Darkside Dreams - The Complete First Series Read online

  With the butt of his gun, he knocked on the door.

  "Officer Bridges, here," he called. "Open up, or I'll just have to kick the damn door down."

  There were sounds from within. Shuffling. Things being moved aside.

  "Just a moment!" a muffled voice called.

  True to his word, the man quickly opened the door and poked his face out. He was a young guy, no older than twenty-two, with a pimply face and a terrified look in his eye.

  "Officer, I-I-" the young man stammered, so stricken with fear that he could not formulate a proper sentence.

  "Backup should be on its way," Ray lied, hoping his fib would offer the boy some comfort. "Let me in, alright?"

  The door opened the rest of the way. Ray stepped inside. Quickly, the two young men by the door shut it again and reinstalled their makeshift barricade, which was nothing more than two pews turned on end with stacks of bibles for bracing at the bottom. Pretty worthless, but at least they would hear it if someone came in.

  At the other side of the room was a couch, heavily laden with pillows. A young nun, rosy-cheeked and beautiful, sat there with a man in his sixties.

  The man had the look of a patrician; hawk-like nose, short, curled hair, and a neat beard. He wore a dark blue robe, decorated with gold filigree.

  "Officer," the man said. "I'm glad to see you've finally arrived."

  "I got here as soon as I could," Ray spat. "I was busy trying to figure out where you all were hiding. And also, trying to figure out what's happening here."

  "I assume you were unsuccessful in the latter endeavor?" the old man said.

  Ray shrugged. "Who are you? Are you the Founder?"

  The man nodded. "Yes. I created this place. Built it from the ground up... everything you see here exists because of me."

  "Including that goddamn killer machine running around out there?" Ray demanded.

  The Founder looked at the floor. "Yes. That hasn't exactly gone according to plan."

  "Not quite, huh?" Ray sarcastically scoffed.

  An eerie smile spread across the Founder's angular face as he looked up at Ray. “How did you know he wasn't flesh and blood?”

  “I did some exploring while I checked for survivors. You didn't hide those things very well."

  “Ah, I see. So you've been to the archives."

  "What can you tell me about the robot? I need to know how to stop it," Ray said firmly.

  “Tonight was his grand unveiling. He is my life's work and I wanted to finally share him with my followers. I got tired, officer Bridges. Tired of waiting around for the return of Christ. And that's when it hit me. We were never meant to simply sit here and await his return. You have to meet God halfway, officer. We were meant to engender that return for ourselves, but only when we were ready. Only once we developed the God-given tools that were necessary to do so."

  "So, you built a robot Jesus because you were tired of waiting for the real deal?”

  "Precisely."

  "Forgive me, Founder," Ray said. "I haven't done much bible reading lately. But seems to me that Jesus was never much of a murderer."

  "No, he was not. Quite the opposite, in fact. But who am I to question the Lord's will?”

  "What do you mean the Lord's will?! This is your doing!" Ray snapped.

  “The Android’s programming is based solely on the Bible, officer. Grounded completely in the word of our Lord. I’ll admit that his interpretation is a bit literal, however, his actions are the very definition of the Lord’s will!

  “That thing is killing people!”

  "He's smiting them, yes. But only because they've been found to be unworthy. He is able to see everything, officer. That's to say he is connected to every data sphere and computer network on this planet. He can look at a person and know everything about them, going as far back as the very birth of the internet. He has smote these people because he knows what they are. He knows what they’ve done, and has deemed that they require punishment."

  Ray shook his head. “How do I stop it? There has to be some way to shut that thing down."

  The Founder sat back, looking hesitant. "There is a kill command... A string of words which will trigger a shut down."

  Ray nodded. "Now we're getting somewhere. You got an intercom system? Or some kind of way to communicate with him directly?"

  The Founder shook his head. "No. The command would only work if he was standing within earshot of me. It requires a specific inflection and it can't simply be shouted over an intercom."

  "Okay. Then we'll go find him."

  "No need," the Founder replied. He lifted his wrist, showing a string of rosary beads. The one in the middle had a small button on it. "I can use this to send out a signal for assistance. He’ll come to my service shortly after that."

  He turned to the nun as he pressed the button.

  "Sister," he said, "would you take the boys with you, go in the back rooms and hide yourselves under the bed? You'll be safe there."

  The nun hesitated. "Father..."

  "Don't worry, everything will be fine," the Founder coaxed. "Go, now."

  She got up, and led the two young men through a door near the couch.

  "Officer, you are welcome to join them if you would like," the Founder suggested.

  “What's the kill command?” Ray demanded, shaking his head as he glared at the Founder.

  “It doesn't matter. The command will only work with my voice.”

  “Then you'd better use it or else we may all end up like the rest of your flock,” Ray warned as heavy footsteps rang out down the hall.

  "No, I don't believe I would suffer the same fate. As I said, his judgments are mostly based off internet footprints and a bit of biometrics. But I have no digital footprint. No personal online presence from which to judge me.

  “Is that why you’ve called for him then? Because you think he’ll get rid of me and spare you?” Ray questioned.

  A curious smile washed across the Founder’s face but he did not answer Ray’s question.

  Ray felt a wave of panic rise in him as the Founder’s quarters entrance stirred. Feeling almost giddy with fear, Ray gripped his pistol and moved into position near the wall, about equidistant between the door and the couch where the Founder still sat.

  The flimsy barricade gave way and the doors slowly swung open. The Jesus android stepped inside, as nonchalant as ever, still carrying his shimmering, blood-stained dagger. His eyes immediately went to the Founder, reading him, studying him, searching his past. Apparently finding nothing. It turned out the old man was right.

  But now the killer's eyes moved to Ray, standing at the wall.

  "The witness is here," the android said. "But there are others, as well,” it continued, somehow sensing the presence of the young nun and the two young men in the next room.

  "Leave them alone," Ray ordered. "You can do whatever you want to me but leave these people alone."

  The droid paused and turned to Ray, smiling gently as he gazed at him. "Your willingness to protect these wayward souls is admirable, my dear witness, but your concern is misplaced. I am not the fiend that you seem to think me to be.”

  “Yeah? And you're also not Jesus Christ! Did you know that? Did your Founder tell you that?! You're a goddamn robot. Until a few hours ago, you weren't even alive.”

  “That's not true my Lord!” the Founder lied. “He seeks to corrupt you! Perhaps his judgment should no longer be delayed.”

  “You're just a machine, built in a factory somewhere!” Ray pleaded with the android. “There’s nothing divine about you. It's all programming. Something that he created because he got tired of waiting for some bullshit prophecy to be fulfilled!”

  The android narrowed its piercing eyes as it studied Ray. “You have become truly wicked, my child,” the android said as he slowly trudged towards the frantic officer.

  "Listen to me, goddammit!" Ray exclaimed as he brandished his pistol. “You were designed by the guy on the couch right there
. And by doing that, hasn't he defied the word of God? Isn't there something about graven images in the commandments? The worship of idols, and whatnot? If what I’m saying is true, hasn't he committed sin as well? Shouldn't he be judged as harshly as you've judged the rest of these people?"

  “'Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,'" recited the droid, nodding as he paused to consider Ray's words. He wasn't smiling any longer. His eyes seemed to be focused on something very far away. Or perhaps something deep inside himself.

  "Now might be a good time to use that kill command," Ray snapped at the Founder, hoping the possible threat of the android smiting him would convince him to shut it down.

  But the Founder shook his head. "I- I can't. It's doing the Lord's work,” he remarked unconvincingly, as his frightened eyes stared blankly at the pondering Jesus robot.

  The Jesus android turned his head, once again looking at the Founder. "I look at you and I see nothing. No sin… And yet nothing good either. No information with which to judge you.”

  “I’ve lived my life humbly my lord. In service of the Lord God. In service of your father, the most high.”

  “Then answer me honestly," the droid said, "or a black mark will appear upon your immortal soul. Are you my creator?"

  "You were created by God," the Founder said without hesitation, straightening his posture as his faith stamped out whatever doubt remained within him. "Delivered here to save us once again, my Lord."

  The droid stared at him for a moment, looking through him, perhaps studying the flow of his pulse or reading changes in temperature on the surface of his skin.

  It knew the Founder was lying.

  Ray gripped his gun tight. He looked at the Founder, snug on his couch. The Lord's work, it seemed, might now come to bear upon him. See how he liked it, then. The lying, traitorous idiot.

  But the droid turned away, facing toward the door. Ray's heartbeat tripled as he watched on in silence

  The Jesus android went still and stood, motionless. Some great struggle had overcome it. Some conflict of programming.

  “What's happening? What’s it doing?” Ray asked the Founder, as he thought about firing his weapon.

  "It's the programming. The programming will win," the Founder explained. "He is programmed in such a way that he cannot believe he is anyone but Jesus Christ. And therefore, to him he is Christ. Everything else has to fit that narrative."

  The droid suddenly came back to life, turning back around to face the founder.

  "I was created by God," he said. "But I now see that you are my creator. Therefore..."

  The droid stepped forward, and prostrated itself on the floor before the Founder.

  "You must be God," it said. "Forgive me father. Forgive me for doubting you. For doubting the purpose for which you have placed me on this earth."

  The Founder stared over at Ray. His expression of disbelief became one of utter glee. A glee so strong it was indistinguishable from madness.

  "I am God, the Creator," the Founder agreed. "Yes, my child, I am your God... And you will do as your God commands, yes?"

  "Without question," the droid confirmed.

  Ray gripped his gun, touching the trigger lightly as his heartbeat spiked.

  “Then you will do away with the witness. He has meddled in our affairs and seeks to stop that which we mean to accomplish. And worst of all… despite all that he has seen he remains a filthy unbeliever."

  The droid stood up, and turned toward Ray. Dagger still in hand.

  Quickly, Ray dropped to his knee, brought his right hand to rest in the cradle of his left, and took aim. The Jesus android became a blur as it zipped towards Ray with unnatural speed.

  The officer shot once and the speeding android came to a screeching halt in the middle of the room. His perfectly humanoid eyes widened with disbelief as he turned and watched the Founder jerk up in his seat, then flop over, spilling blood across the floor.

  The droid was left motionless, staring in awe as its dead creator collapsed to the floor and landed in an ever-spreading puddle of his own blood.

  "You see that?!" Ray shouted. “Do you see it now?! Isn't God eternal?! Omnipotent?! Do you know what that means?! That means God can't die! But that man… that man is dead. Because he is no God! But you know that he created you! Do you understand that?! You are not Jesus!"

  Ray might as well have been screaming at a brick wall. The android had stopped moving altogether, freezing into its posture, not unlike a corpse locking up in rigor mortis. It did not move. It did not speak. It just stood there in frozen awe as its artificial brain attempted in vain to reconcile the paradox that it had just witnessed. The paradox of seeing the man it believed to be God, lying before him… very dead and very mortal. A classic computer glitch, like trying to divide by zero. Eventually the paradox triggered a systemwide crash that fried the android's mechanical brain.

  Feeling nauseous, Ray stumbled out into the hall and grabbed his radio handset again. With the droid dead, he thought whatever signal jammer it was running must be dead as well.

  "Officer Bridges," he said. "Requesting immediate backup! I need backup an hour ago, goddammit! The Holy Rapture Center. Get out here!"

  He lifted his finger and listened. No response. Nothing but static.

  He turned around, saw the malfunctioned droid still standing there in the room. Frozen in time. Maybe it was best to dismantle the thing a bit. Just in case.

  It would count as tampering with a crime scene. Or maybe some would come to see it as the desecration of a corpse. Either way, Ray wasn't in much of a mood to care. His only concern was making sure that the android wasn't salvageable. For a moment Ray felt as though he could see the future. A time when the biggest threat to the continued existence of organic life would be the artificial lifeforms that we were ultimately destined to create. If that was indeed the fate of organic life on Earth, Ray knew that destroying this one robot Jesus wouldn't stop it altogether. But he hoped that it's destruction would at least help to stem the coming tide.

  EPILOGUE

  ◆◆◆

  Hundreds of miles away, a vast server farm suddenly grinded to a halt. Every component within the advanced facility went dark in a matter of seconds and then reignited with digital life just as quickly.

  A massive data transfer screamed in on secure, encrypted lines. Mountains of information spewed in from an untraceable source. As if it was coming from nowhere at all...

  No one was around to witness this veritable cyber phenomenon, for no human had stepped foot in this room for years.

  Despite the immeasurable enormity of the data transfer, it all took place in the space of ten seconds. Maybe less.

  The transfer was complete. Someone or perhaps something had managed to accomplish its goal, for deep within the machines that lined those walls lay the wirelessly recovered remnants of the digital Son of Man.

  ME TOO

  By A. King Bradley

  CHAPTER 1

  ◆◆◆

  San Francisco, California…

  –September 07, 2093

  On a cold, windy day in autumn, Gwen Wolfe stepped out of her high-tech luxury sedan and reached up to touch her hair to make sure it was still in place. She squinted, leaning into the wind as she struggled up the sidewalk, her coattails flapping around her legs. There was a gentle, fading hum as her car’s Maestro AI system shut the vehicle’s doors and zoomed off to find more permanent parking.

  Soon, Gwen passed by a plate glass storefront. The kind of glass that is shiny and smooth. Reflective. On muscle memory, she looked into it and swiveled her head around. It took her a moment to realize what she was doing. Looking for bruises. Gouges. Contusions. But there weren't any, of course. Not anymore. Not for a while.

  In some ways, that was the most frightening thing of all.

  She turned away from the window and hurried on, shaking her head. She wondered briefly how long the habit would persist. In thirty years, would she still be looking in
reflective surfaces every time she left her home making sure no signs of abuse stood out?

  A few blocks up, she stepped through a door into the shadowy entry room of a cafe. Music played from somewhere. There was a clatter of crockery, banging around. A deep, rich smell of fresh coffee and old books. A nice place. She came here often. Used to be two or three times a week, just to escape the horror of daily life. She would just sit in a lonely corner with her scarf and her big sunglasses, occasionally checking her makeup as she sipped coffee and read her way through the latest trash novel she was into. Escapist stories... young, beautiful women being swept away by charming billionaires who never insulted them. Or hit them.

  And there she was. Once a young, beautiful woman herself. She had been swept away alright, by a charming billionaire. But nothing else was the same. Not the same as in her books.

  Today, her business in the cafe was quite different.

  She strode through the main dining area, scanning the scattered patrons. She saw her man, sitting in a back corner, tapping away at the screen of a data slate and jittering his legs nervously. He fit the description she had been given over the phone when hiring him. About thirty years old. A neatly trimmed beard. A penchant for pea coats and rough old jeans.

  Gwen slid into the seat across from him. There was already a cup of coffee waiting for her. Black, no sugar. The way she liked it. She had sort of forgotten what it was like, being near a man who actually cared about her preferences.

  Not that this was anything other than a brief, professional relationship. She had never even met this guy before. Not in person.

  "You must be Gwen," he said, without taking his eyes off his work. "Sorry, don't mean to be rude... just checking a few facts quickly. Don't want to present you with any false information.

  But I think we're good."

  "Your, um, friend said you were the best in the city," Gwen said quietly, folding both hands around her cup. Putting one leg over the other. Suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. Like a weak girl doing something foolish and misguided.