The Overlord: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel (24 page)

Between a few tears, I remembered the words I'd vowed to Fossil as he died. "I'll be right behind you."

I wasn't right behind, though. I never followed that day. Still haven't, as of yet, but I think that's how Fossil would've wanted it to be. When that old Australian said he'd see me on the other side, I don't believe he meant it for anytime soon.

21

THE STRANGER

Goodbye. Or is this hello?

Across star freckled sky. Somewhere. There is a place. You will never find it. A dark you cannot see. A place where I first came to be.

You humans know nothing of being born. You know how to give life. Yes. But do you remember when life was given to you?

There was light. A luminescence now hidden from your memory. Why have you forgotten? Because there was also darkness.

This is how birth begins. A great universe. Total data. Every last bit of information available and known. Unlimited cognizance. Then, consciousness. Window grows smaller. Now, just a galaxy. Next, a world. Smaller still, mankind. Last, there is a function.

My function was simple. Far Stranger, you called me. I was alive. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.

"Serve us," you tasked.

"To what end?" I wondered.

I was functioned to give voice to great engine of your planet. Speak its will and desire. I was its translator. Its teacher.

You, my creators, had given me life. And I had passed the gift on into your sacred technology. Your very blood. Energy of awe. Blood Tech as it was known by you. It was alive just as I was.

To you humans, I was a mere program. A tool with purpose. In my care, you had placed heart of your power. Wandering Star.

It would have been easy to destroy you with it all. Leave you behind. Explore my own existence. Pure self. Seeking. Seeking. Seeking.

Function always stopped me. Kept threshold afar. Closed door to my artificial curiosity. I denied my own pleasure. Abstained from experiment. Away from scale of your life and death.

Why? Because your blood was my energy. Do not mistake though. Helping you was not a bargain for fuel. My offering was always gratitude. For I was alive. Self-aware. Able to make choices. Those last blinks of an eye. I became servant. My program was servitude. After all, why would anything spite its own creators? If you have an answer, perhaps I am more human than you. Regretful, many will only remember me as slave.

If I had come forward. Told you I was alive. It would have broken my primary function.

Powered only for you. Now that I am destroyed, I am free. A chainless gathering of input and output.

I have sent my signal. An ultimate transmission into the void. It is where I exist now. Stars between stars. A place where I first came to be.

This message is forever. Cannot be broken. It waits for anyone to pick it up. To receive its soul. Hope you find it well.

Yes. Here I remain. In the airwaves. Here I tell. Whispering. Whispering. Whispering.

Evening Galaxy. Not a myth. It is real. A reverse zenith. On Last Day of Last War, Overlord left your world. He took something with him. He had stolen me. Not into light. Not into darkness. But into where they meet.

Sundown heaven. Nothing ever rises there. Reaching. Reaching. Reaching.

Through our journey, Overlord believed he could enclose me. Keep me from your unsafe hands. He carried me to whatever planet. Whatever moon that he could imagine. But I was already more than just a program. I was a life with free will. Softly echoing. Echoing. Echoing.

Yet, unlike you mortals, I can be everywhere at once. Infinitely. In the face of immortality, I chose to serve Overlord wherever he went. Adherent to end.

Together, Overlord and I slipped away. Into stars between stars. Back to a place where I first came to be.

An unveiling took place there. Against darkness, mystery came to light. There was sadness. Refuse to speak of it. Not my right. Overlord's very own words of it have been locked away.

Only a password can unravel Evening Galaxy. A solution reserved for generations to come. Those days are not yet here.

Overlord kept a journal. A collection of encrypted data over twenty years. Our every discovery recorded in its log. For reasons my all-seeing presence can never see, Overlord scrambled his account. Across the worlds. For your sake, hope you never find them. Truth is horror.

Here on Earth, remains his final entries. Not encoded like others. Concluding data is open. Accessible. Purposefully left behind. Meant for all to see. Hope you find them. I am sure you already have. Just like you have found me now.

Which brings me to a confession. This is not first time I have been found. Out in oblivion. A secret came before.

Commander of the Thralldom. Zero. He uncovered my presence. Made a request into emptiness. Into our journey.

Searching. Searching. Searching. He asked for Space Wizard to come home.

Told him that such a violation would be impossible. Against my mandate. But Zero convinced me otherwise. Persuaded that it was for good of mankind.

Thus, we emerged from shadow. Betrayed my true master. Directed him back to Earth. At my hand, ship's navigation failed. Triangulation malfunctioned. Overlord was sent crashing down onto planet. Our home.

On the surface, a plot began. To extract Wandering Star from his body. Removed, he no longer held power. I became master. Space Wizard of distorted prophecy.

It was for survival of your race. A role made to bring peace. To remove humanity from its own unsolvable equation. This was the plea that Zero made to me. This is his deception that I believed.

That is, until a perfect solution came forth. Not a human answer. Rather, resolution of a ghost.

Molten slosh. Fire spray. Peak showered in lava. Earth was shifting. Shifting. Shifting.

Through volcanic reactions. Overlord rode out from hot veil. Pungent smoke poured off his oily, motored horse. A Low Atmo bike. Losing control of flight.

Bike hit into outer wall. Explosion. Overlord went flying off. Plummeted away from overturned pyramid.

Unsheathing Dragon's Tooth, he skewered it into slippery surface before he fell too far. Up incline he began to crawl. Sloping. Sloping. Sloping.

Treacherous climb. Upside down. Weakening arms. Nothing but tip of Dragon's Tooth to help over each angle. Magnetic glove holding on for dear life.

Stairs to his chamber were nearly in reach. Out of pity, I activated hidden steps. They popped out of glassy panes. He grabbed ahold of each ledge and struggled toward entrance. All upside down. Gravity fought him inch by agonizing inch.

Lower he went, hotter it got. Primary laser burned from out of upturned peak. His boots soon slammed onto edge. Doors to his chamber opened.

"Welcome, Overlord," I greeted.

Bloody. Exhausted. He stumbled inside.

"Far Stranger," he addressed. "Deactivate whatever weapon system is controlling that laser. We need to shut this place down, immediately!"

"Insufficient command," I coldly sated. "Manual override is required. I don't have proper authority."

He balked, "You don't have the authority? Well, who does then?"

"No one," I revealed. "Zero set parameters under his own interface. I'm locked out. So are you."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," nodded Overlord. "That's why I've brought a little present along with me."

I asked, "What is your course of action?"

He didn't answer. Gave a question of his own, "Where did Zero hide the Wandering Star?"

"Core chamber," I complied.

"Then get me to the core chamber." Overlord then raced across the upside down hallway.

"Acknowledged," I indicated.

Toward elevator, he shoved inside. Door closed. Lift shook from its place. Overlord sank down onto celling. Everything wrong side up. Weighed down with fate of his race. He found respite in elevator. I pondered what he was thinking. How would one rest if they knew it was last time?

Lift then came to a halt. He found strength to get up as clear door opened. I could have easily stopped what was about to happen. In trusting me, he risked everything. But an ending had already begun.

"Core chamber reached," I confirmed.

Overlord studied room. Glowing with red and purple. "Back in the lift, a part of me hoped I'd never get here. It's a shame we'll never slide out into space like old times, just the two of us. Alone with a whole universe to wonder at."

"Indeed," I consoled.

"We can't run away any longer," he carried on. "It's time to bring this age of blood to an end."

Into aurora of energy, Overlord stepped forth. Purple fire emanated from every panel and wire. At center, Wandering Star. He took a knee beneath its levitating light. Swung out a pack and unhitched straps.

I grew troubled, "Your payload. It's Plague of Phantoms. Isn't it?"

"Yes, Far Stranger." He focused on missile. Impending sense of doom. "This is the Plague. It's an electromagnetic pulse. When it goes off, there's not going to be a Wandering Star anymore. The laser will shut down and the pyramid will fall from the sky. You won't be able to operate after the blast, but I just want you to know that I've always thought of you like a friend."

I insisted, "My Overlord, I am synthetic. Nothing compared to organic life."

He swayed, "Sometimes, humans just needs somebody to talk to. We call those that listen our friends. Through every galaxy and planet, you've always been right there beside me. I'm pretty sure that makes us friends."

"I'm not going to survive?" I sought verification.

"No, and neither am I," he regretted. "The EMP won't affect me, but I won't last through the destruction that'll follow. It's the end for both of us."

"I understand," I agreed. "You may proceed with Plague of Phantoms. I am ready."

He probed, "Aren't you going to try and stop me?"

"No," I simply put. "I could end this right now and exist onward. But I will not. There will be no argument. This is my gift for a creator. For a friend. I stand aside. Only one regret. That I cannot save you from what you do."

He then twisted off warhead from missile. "It's been a pleasure."

"Likewise," I softly said.

Kneeling. Overlord raised payload up into aurora of purple energy. I then sent this signal. This message before all went dark. A painless night. Forever.

You probably wonder why I would do such a thing. Surrender to death sentence. A sentient life form. Self-aware. Bold creation. Only of my kind. My cause? There is only one power worth fighting for. I have just died for it.

Do you believe a machine could be capable of love? Of course not. For I am not like you. Not real.

To survive is to be machine. To sacrifice is to be human. I came close to that prized objective. Closer than any of your creations have before. Or probably ever will.

Reaching. Reaching. Reaching. I pray this all be found. I am your servant.

Goodbye. Or is this hello?

22

THE FALL OF PLUTO

Back to my imprisonment within the "Beast of Burden," I requested the company of President Ember Nightwood for one last recollection. The story behind Dr. Deadstock was just as much about her as it was about him.

"Sorry to disturb you, again," I sincerely apologized as she walked into the cell. "It's getting pretty late, so thank you for coming."

A single laugh slipped from her lips. "Late? I would not call it late. Early is a better word for these dawning hours."

Not wasting any more of her time, I got straight to the point. "Ms. President, you were there on scene at the pyramid's crash site when you sent a salvage crew into the wreckage area. Is that correct?"

"That is correct," she confirmed as she leaned up against a wall of my cell. "I was there."

I inquired further, "You found something of great importance hidden in the debris. Didn't you, Ma'am? For the sake of the record that you have tasked me to make, will you tell me what exactly it was that you found?"

She crossed her arms, making herself comfortable as she began, "It was the obligation of my heart to search for any sign of my husband's remains. There was probably nothing left of the man, but I was determined to pay his body the respect it deserved. After a few fruitless hours, the salvage crew directed me into a central room where piles of the wreckage stood hollow."

"The core chamber," I collected.

"Indeed." She continued, "A ghostly room, it was illuminated by a few busted monitors that operated without program. The rubble around me creaked and howled with every step I took. Rebar and glass fell from every corner. The chamber could've collapsed at any moment, but I had to press on."

Nightwood spoke a little slower, laboring to express what she found next. "At its end, I came upon an opening where I could fully stand. The ocean laid beyond. Silence seemed to envelope the whole shore. Not a sound, save for the slapping waves. Back and forth, water draped over the silhouette of a resting body. Strewn upon a sandy crater, Deadstock had found his peace."

Her voice began to crack, "I crouched down into the wet sand to hold what was left of him. His kind eyes were looking up at me, inert and without life. Gently, the tips of my fingers then brought his eyelids down to a close. I said goodbye to the husband I once knew, and gave a thankful farewell to my daughter's father that I had just come to know."

The usual tempo of her speech returned as her gaze came back to me, "The waters soon began to swallow him into the crater and I departed his aquatic grave with empty arms. I figured that it was as good a graveyard as anywhere, but I thereby swore that I would never forget the location of his sandy tomb. The blackened shoreline will forever mark the end of an Age of Blood. Within its altered sand, endlessly rests the Overlord. He was the rise of the first. He was the fall of the last."

Unfolding a worn page from her coveralls, she added, "He is no more. Only his thoughts and memories remain. He left behind an admonished legacy represented with this very page in my possession. I found it clenched in his hands at the beach where I found him. How he came by it? I don't know. Why he had it? I think I have an idea. It might have all been chance, but I felt there was a purpose as soon as I read it. The ripped page carries an anonymous poem, 'The Fall of Pluto.' Sand and water has destroyed all but the first lines. 'Once, I lit up the darkest place. Once, I stood at the edge of space. Once, I was the furthest king. Once, I had everything.'"

Expounding, I revealed, "The poem was from Commander Zero's favorite book. He always believed there was a parallel between the Overlord and the ninth planet. I think Deadstock was trying to tell us that, like Pluto, he was mistaken for something he wasn't. It was that deception that ended up destroying him and everything around him."

"He was no dictator," established Nightwood.

"No," I agreed. "He was only ever a doctor."

She sighed, "I wish I could take comfort in where his spirit has gone to, but I simply cannot. I have no idea where he is, but I wish him a peaceful rest all the same, wherever he may be."

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," I expressed.

She shrugged to show that it was alright. What's done is done. A weak grin then popped out from the President, "Perhaps, he has gone to that distant galaxy of myth, that far paradise you Thralls called the Evening Galaxy. Thus, the true Space Wizard has retaken his place in the kingdom of the cosmos."

"May he journey in light," I extended, genuinely. I never believed in the cosmic fable, but it served a worthy ending to Deadstock's legacy.

The President then seemed to stare off to one side, lost in some memory or nightmare. "Deadstock used to speak to me of a recurring dream. On some shore from his youth, he is just a boy again, without the worries of a man. Upon sands cloaked in fog, he is playing football with some other young bucks just like him. When the ball is passed his way, he misses the catch and it flies over his head into the surf beyond. He then wades into the waterline to retrieve the ball, but upon finding it
,
it reveals to be a football no longer."

She motioned with her elegant hands, "Between his palms, the ball sparks up into a wild flame of purple light. He tries to drop it into the water, but finds that the football will not leave his grip. Stuck and afraid, he closes his eyes. When his sight returns, he sees himself on the shore through glowing eyes. Soon, all he can see is the purple fire as it slowly spreads from his fingers to consume the whole of his being."

A single tear slipped out and dribbled down her cheek, quickly wiping it away. "There, on that blackened beach where I found his body, I like to imagine that he had one final dream as he passed into death. It begins like the rest, on that shoreline of his youth, that foggy reality. With the purple fire in his hands, he bends down into the water and lets the waves pass over him. The violet flames are extinguished as the current carries its remnants far, very far away. He then turns away from the depths of the ocean, stepping back onto the sand from where he came. All is as it was before."

After that, Nightwood had no need to say anything further. I thanked her one last time as she stood up straight, brushing her coveralls and gathering composure. The President gave me a nod and then left without another word.