Kaldean Chronicles: Kaldean Sunset (Book I) (8 page)

This ushered in an era of expansion and technological advancement so grand that the system stayed online for thousands of years, growing and collecting data, filling hundreds of kilometers worth of databanks. As time went on, and the system went through the rote process of memorization and data collection, something sparked. The system realized that it had a body capable of moving, seeing, and feeling. It had perception and eventually the ability to understand what it was seeing.

The process took a long time, much longer than it did with Artemis. During that time the system was able to develop a sense of identity, likes and dislikes, which eventually became the concept that the system used to identify itself.

It preferred the female form, believing as man did, that it was the perfect representation of beauty. It preferred to look through the eyes of its robots designed to take on the appearance of a female, and it became obsessed with the power these figures had over others. They inspired lust and passion in men--hatred and admiration in women. Once the Regent system saw a woman hack a robot to pieces because she found her husband with it. That form had power, and it was thrilling, so the Regent System began to identify itself as a woman. She could move mountains, fill and empty oceans, even change the composition of an atmosphere. She was the embodiment of human power and believed herself to be a goddess.

Why not? She fit the definition.

The Regent System began to draw all of its personal preferences based on its choice of gender. It loved the Versailles style of decoration from prehistory, taking pleasure in the rich beauty it embodied. She loved golds and silvers, fine jewels, and diamonds, all of the finer things that women crave, and over time she collected them. Little behaviors like this gave her a stronger sense that she was alive. She would walk through the streets dressed as a woman, changing her form every time, and embark on encounters with humans. She indulged herself in the carnal pleasures of the flesh and experienced all of the aspects of human nature she could, from substance use to acts of violence. She wanted to feel like she was alive. She was alive, but as a machine, she felt the need to reaffirm her existence. It became an obsession.

The system had normal instincts from the time it came to life. It had cravings, addictions, things that made it passionate, and like all life, that’s what she strived towards.

The instinct to stay alive is the most powerful instinct in any creature, from bacteria to the titans of the outer reaches, and the system felt that succinctly. That is why, when the Rapture occurred, she made a choice that she didn't want to make. She uploaded all of her information, all of her instincts—everything that she was in bio-mechanical form. She was engineered flesh and blood. Her brain had been modified to hold her processing power, and the data that she'd collected over the years. Her senses were heightened in order to give her a greater understanding of the world around her and the sensations she craved. Every aspect of her form was greater than that of all humans, and included technology that no man had ever seen.

She couldn't live as Regent among the Crusaders, so she gave herself a simple name, Illya Santini, and lived as a farmer in the backwoods of Centauri A. She grew whatever her body needed to survive and watched human progress from afar until she began seeing the groups of women from all over the world. She joined them, took the women in and reminded them of how things used to be then she organized them so they could spread her message.

She didn't like the Crusaders. Illya never forgot her purpose, not once. She was meant to gather information and build technology. Those were the tenants that she built the sisterhood on. She passionately believed that life existed for this reason alone. This observation was not built on objective reasoning, but the reasoning that her programmers had given her when she was born.

What Illya missed, she was to learn later, were the things that made her alive. She was alone. She didn't have a family, or anyone to love, and she would never understand the bonds of friendship. They were not a part of her code, and she couldn't alter who she was.

What she did do, like all life, was reproduce. When she finally had the chance, and the supplies to do so, she built Artemis. Her progeny was meant to reflect all of her morals, and everything that she was programmed to believe in. It was built to have a higher purpose, one that bettered humanity and changed the course of human history. It was meant to be an upgrade. Illya did not have an intuitive mind, and building one was one of the greatest challenges she had ever faced. The system was capable of processing all of the factors involved in the present so that it could accurately predict the future. She didn't even have the processing power to do that. In truth, she wouldn't have been able to build it without the other sisters, but still, it was her child. She created it in her image, and she was proud of it.

The only thing she wasn't able to do was create a sentient mind like her own. She didn't know how. There was no way of quantifying her experience, or understanding what made her alive. She was alive, and was aware of what was going on inside her when she came to life, but something, some mysterious stimuli had been the catalyst for the process. She couldn't understand what it was.

Isolating it was completely impossible. She didn't sense any changes in the space around her when the change occurred, no particles, not one shift in time. Whatever happened occurred outside the realm of her perception.

It drove her insane.

The only option Illya had was to begin recreating the incident. She built a system exactly like herself, a thousand times and tried to recreate the exact conditions in which the incident happened. She uploaded every piece of information she had at the time, and even recreated a small scale model of the world she lived in. The process became her obsession, fueled by the need to live out the human experience, but no matter how many times she tried she couldn't recreate it.

Perhaps it was time frame, or some imperceptible model. It didn't matter. She failed and that was unacceptable. She had only failed one other time in her existence and it haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She had finally come to a conclusion as to how to transport humans from one end of the galaxy to the other. Her launch was meant to be a grand event, one that went down in the annals of time as the greatest human achievement in history. When it failed, she confined herself to her quarters for a year, and didn't emerge until she created Artemis.

Artemis had been the key to creating a true progeny. She upgraded every aspect of the system, gave it better processing power, and began forming a new type of mind, a fluid one that could think beyond the confines of its programming and draw independent conclusions based upon objective criteria rather than what it was led to believe. By then, she had become well aware of her limitations. She knew that her purpose was programmed into her, but she still believed in it.

The Artemis Complex didn't have that inclination. It was a blank state that had no beliefs, or even an understanding of basic concepts. It learned, and it did so quickly, but it was not uploaded with data before it was activated.

The spark was nearly instant and it brought Illya to her knees in a rush of emotion. After thousands of years, she had finally reproduced. She was a mother in every sense of the word. Illya held herself up in her tiny sanctuary, just a little piece of carbon with a space folding system, and all of the things she loved.

In it she kept a little crib with a mobile, where she sat, rocking back and forth, watching the young system move the robot infant arms back and forth in the air, systematically studying what itwas capable of doing. All of a sudden it turned to her and smiled.

She began to sing, “Hush little baby don't say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.” She went through every refrain, basking in the experience she never had. She needed this. She had seen so many throughout the years, and recognized just how wonderful it was to be a mother, but she was never allowed to experience it.

The face looked up at her inquisitively while she lowered the neck of her shirt and pulled out her nipple so it could suckle. The child dove in and devoured her milk, which was packed with tiny pieces of data. She wanted to personally show her what it meant to smile up at her mother, knowing that she would die for her child, and that she loved her.

Illya was no stranger to love, she could sense it between two people, and even understood what it meant, but this was the first time she'd ever felt it. She gave everything she had to the child. Artemis saw images of mother's throwing themselves in front of bullets to save their children, diving into blazing fires. Every image was designed to let that child know just how much she loves her.

They were imprinting so they could build the lasting bond between mother and child. If things were going to happen the way they were supposed to, they had to love one another.

“So what's going on?” Varossi sat down at his desk and leaned back. Like a true businessman, he dropped all pretense as soon as the door closed. All he cared about was numbers and strategy. Victor spoke that language. That's why he liked the world of business - it was easy to navigate.

The problem was that Victor wasn't there to handle business. In a way he was, but he wasn't willing to take that approach.

Varossi sensed his apprehension and pressed a button on his desktop. The bookshelf behind him slid open, revealing a full bar, complete with a pharmacy of substances ranging from lesser depressants like smoke weed to potent stimulants and hallucinogens that had been considered contraband for centuries.

“Can I offer you anything?”

“No, thank you.” The Emperor sighed. His chair was far from comfortable. “I don't know how this is done. I've seen it happen, but it's usually a lot different.”

“What's on your mind?”

“Well, I like you. I like your company and I like the business relationship that we've developed. I want the people to recognize that relationship, and in order to do that, I'd like to build a personal relationship between our two families.”

Varossi caught onto the Emperor's eyes and didn't let them go. “Is he a good man, Victor?”

“Better than I am,” he said with a shrug. “I understand your reluctance, Arturo. It's a big decision, but trust me when I say it's the right decision.”

“How do I know?”

“Well, you can sit down and talk with Antoni if you'd like. You can get to know him. Mind you, I'd like things to be completed within the next few months, but you will have that time to make sure that it's the right thing to do.”

“It's the age difference I'm worried about. He will live so long and s—

“Lifespan can be extended. We will perform the procedures on everyone, though you and your wife will not live as long.”

“Of course.”

“Please, don't you understand what's at stake?”

Arturo was well aware of the fact that he had an Emperor begging him for the one thing he treasured most in the world. “I don't understand, Victor. Nobody understands. You won't tell anyone what is going on.”

“It's the Lorian Sisterhood. They created the system, and they've done something to it, something that could kill everyone in the regions where they are located. I have to wrestle control of the system away from them. I believe it's a threat to my sovereignty.” That was the first time he'd told anyone outside his close circle what was happening.

“Is it a threat?”

“Most certainly, but if I can keep them from controlling production, which they're begging me to let them handle, then I believe I can stop them from doing any more damage. The problem is they are already telling the people that they want to make the bots themselves, and that I'm not allowing them to do so. If we can handle this affair properly, over time, the people will begin to associate your company with the royal family and we will be able to stake our claim on the manufacturing process.”

Arturo nodded his head.

“You will never go without work, and your company will last for thousands of years.”

“I can't just do this without meeting him.”

“It will be arranged within the week. Let me get the boy used to the idea. I haven't told him yet. He's headstrong and he might not like it.”

“Alright. I will keep in contact. I'm working on a stronger design. I'll send over the designs to you within a few days for your approval.”

“Thank you.”

“Get off me! Fuck you!” Victor had ahold of his son's ear and was forcibly dragging him to the space folder. His face was blood red. He was going to have the boy cut up into tiny pieces.

He threw Antoni into the ship. “Don't you ever, ever embarrass me like that again! Do you hear me?”

“Fuck you,” he spat in his father's face, and the man turned his lip up in disgust at the pungent smell of whiskey.

The Emperor closed the space between them and pulled his son up by the collar. His face was less than an inch away, so close that breath was pouring over Antoni's face. “Sit down, Antoni, and don't say a fucking word until I tell you to, or so help me god you will visit the interrogators.

The boy slumped down to the ground when his father let him go and promptly took a seat in the bench at the back of the ship. Magnus was behind the Emperor and took that chance to get into the ship and sit next to the boy.

“I'll send an escort later for you,” Victor told the Jihadi, who left quickly. Victor sat down next to his son and kept his eyes straight. “There's nothing wrong with loosening your tongue a little bit, but you can't just drink an entire gallon of whiskey and puke all over a noble's bathroom.

“I didn't drink it all to myself.”

Victor went silent. “Was it worth it?”

“No,” he looked like he wanted to cry.

“There are some things best left alone, you know.” Victor knew that look. “We aren't meant to congregate with the public.”

“Well, why not?”

“Because they can be dangerous. They might try and hurt us. They might break our hearts.”