Asunder Chapter 30

Chapter 6.5 (30)

The Isobian

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“My dearest Enzo,

I liked the riddle that you wrote in your last letter. I am pretty sure the answer is Darkness.

I have one for you as well:

What is spent but never saved,

Takes but never gives,

Wasted but never created?

On another note, we really must make the TIME to meet soon. I am worried about Enver. He has been repeating ideas we should not speak of, and speaks as though he were a human. He is often missing, and when he is here, he seems lost in thought. Furthermore, the child he cares for has been sick and not getting better, but he is keeping it hidden. In writing this, I am exposing this truth. Enver is not acting appropriately or in line with his coding. He should have reported the child’s ailments to our superiors months ago. I have to go, but please write back soon.

Sincerely and yours truly,

Forteny”

- Present Day -

- The Year 2296 -

Enzo had traveled nearly the whole day by foot, holding tight to the stream's route. He reasoned how the woman he was after likely used the shade of the trees to stay hidden from the view of the Seekers and Scouts from above. His olfactory sensors picked up a hint of her human scent as he descended the hillside. He definitely was on the right trail, but his lack of vision made it so he stumbled and tripped if he became too overconfident. His heightened senses aided in avoiding the more oversized objects and, therefore, bigger follies, and so he continued northward, processing each sound and smell with exactness to avoid most missteps.

He had started his journey following the labeled red virtual footsteps created within his new virtual view of the world, but once the footsteps reached the tree line and the stream, the guesswork began. His virtual reality no longer had the data to create detailed surroundings, so he depended solely on his other non-visual senses. The sound of trickling water entered his audioreceptors, and the echolocationers indicated the stream still babbled nearby. His hygrometer sensed the sudden change in humidity as he stepped closer to the creek. His thermoregulators sensed a decline in temperature each time he stepped within the shade of the trees. The dichotomy of the coolness from the shade of the trees and stream compared to the dry warmth of the sun provided a subtle difference he found pleasant.

Though the world around him remained relatively disorienting, as he became utterly dependent on his other senses, he managed to keep his panic at bay. Completing tasks without vision was not something he was completely foreign to. He had experienced this sensation before when searching for escapees in the darkness of the mines. Where not using his sight aided in the element of surprise.

Seeking out scared humans in the dark?

The previously reassuring thought now sickened him.

Mindlessly following orders?

The anxiety he so readily tried to suppress began to bubble to the surface again. Hoping to avoid spiraling into a fit of panic again, he, instead turned his thoughts to once peaceful memories

As he stumbled through the rollercoaster of emotions that came with this 100% independent free-thinking, Enzo realized the irony of it all. Feelings of happiness, sadness, regret, hope, and speculation were foreign to him. Meanwhile, the feelings of vengeance and hatred were as old as the first sun to his eyes. Someone programmed these “angry” feelings into the forefront of his Thought Theory Protocol. It seemed these were the allowed, or better yet, encouraged feelings. This idea of “innate hatred” sickened him even more. It was essentially the programming of evil.

Is this what it was, evil? 

This understanding of something being good or evil was also new for him.

These must be ambiguous feelings, he thought. Feelings other than hatred, anger, and vengeance brought too many unknowns into one’s programming. Did the Alpha not want his Isobians to experience these other emotions because they created ambiguity—too many unknowns—too many factors that could not be controlled? 

It struck Enzo that he had always seen himself as a free-thinking Isobian, whereas he had been only another minion—another machine programmed to do the bidding of the Alpha to perpetuate the leader’s agenda. But what was the Alpha’s agenda? To end humanity completely? To save the world? To make more Isobians? It all seemed so disconnected. Everything the Alpha and his Fabricators had ever taught Enzo about himself and other Isobians began to fall apart quickly.

Did all of the thoughts and feelings within him boil down to his original programming—his previous life as a Nurturer? This pondering of his time as a Nurturer naturally transitioned to memories of his friend Forteny, their letters, and the secrets hidden within those letters—the real reason for the Alpha’s decommissioning of the Nurturer program: NVR-791, otherwise known as Enver. Enver was the Isobian it all led back to.

Enzo wondered if HERAa had been allowed to learn about Enver. Enzo wondered if HERAa’s perception of the Alpha would change if she knew Enver’s story. If she knew how this Nurturer had somehow overcome his programming, to the extent the Isobian eventually rebelled against the Alpha. Enzo used to despise Enver for his disloyalty and defection. Enver was the sole reason Enzo, against his will, became an Enforcer. Enver was the sole reason the Alpha and his Fabricators destroyed Forteny.

Forteny was essentially Enzo’s sister, NZO-014. They were born in the same batch of Isobian Nurturers. She was the first Isobian he had ever interacted with. She was his closest friend, if this was what a machine could call another machine they shared secrets with. Though secrets were forbidden, there were times when they somehow overrode their algorithms and kept in touch via unapproved means. This ability was likely due to the 93% free agency within their Thought Theory Protocols he now assumed.

Though the fabricators eventually transferred them to separate facilities, Enzo and Forteny communicated via letters through carrier pigeons. Forteny had trained a group of pigeons to carry their handwritten letters back and forth. Nurturers never underwent a debriefing like the Enforcers, nor were they hardwired with HERAa’s. So, the Alpha could never track their Pidgeon carrier correspondence. For some reason, the Alpha must have trusted that the Isobians, who only cared for children, would not be dangerous. So the act of letter writing went unchecked, unnoticed.

Forteny had been in the same facility as Enver and had become close acquaintances with the machine. This relationship between the two was how Enzo learned so much about the defector. Through her letters, Forteny told Enzo about her endless conversations with Enver—endless forbidden conversations. Enver spoke of moral and ethical idealism, existentialism, and even rebellion. These were the seemingly ambiguous ideas that eventually coalesced into Enver’s defection. These were also the ideas leading to Enver organizing a mass escape of all the humans from the Nurturer facility. How had this one machine come to the conclusions he did?

Enzo thought of his current condition—his recent introspections and how he currently questioned the Alpha’s motives. Was he, too, a defector now? The only way to return to the Isobians in good standing would be to have his circuitry fixed and his algorithms reinstated. The thought terrified him. He would rather not return to the prison they kept his mind within. Though he had definitely wanted his vision restored, he would not, at the cost of having his Thought Theory Protocol reduced again, and therefore lose his current 100% free agency.

Enver must have altered his circuits somehow to allow for free-thinking, independent, non-obstructive thoughts.

But how did Enver do it without setting off the alarms that kept the algorithms in check? 

He had to have overridden them somehow, just like Enzo did with his injury.

Enzo and Enver had been Nurturers, so maybe this was the common link. Enzo, even as an Enforcer, had always differed from the other Isobians. Perhaps his initial environment and programming played a critical role in his mental development. Maybe as they naturally formed bonds with the humans, they began to think more like humans.

He pondered back on the humans he cared for as a Nurturer. He remembered every child’s name, every face, every song, and every giggle. They were delicate creatures, humans. So intelligent and witty. Why did the Alpha hate them so readily? Images of war and famine crossed his memory but quickly faded. The images were fleeting now, no longer forced into replay by the algorithms. He knew the destructive force of humans, but he also knew of their immense capacity for love and kindness. The relationships humans made with each other seemed supernatural—especially the relationships of pure love and affection.

Enzo laughed at himself now. To think he once thought humans could not reproduce naturally. The Fabricators had taught all Nurturers about a false defect in the human genome, preventing humans from reproducing. This defect was why the machines grew the humans artificially and surgically implanted them within the womb afterward. It wasn’t until after Enver had defected, the Isobians abandoned the Nurturer program, and Enzo transitioned to the Enforcer program, that he actually saw free humans in their natural habitat, obviously reproducing and creating entire colonies outside the realm of machine intervention. Was this first lie the spark of his speculation about the Alpha? And why did the Alpha lie in the first place? Why did the Alpha initially artificially grow humans when they reproduced independently? What was the Alpha trying to accomplish? Was he breeding them for something else other than their Seership? Was the Alpha breeding humans for a specific trait? Was he looking for something to appear within the genetic makeup of the humans? Was he looking to create a particular someone?

Looking for answers to his questions, Enzo reached down and turned up the volume on his gauntlet. “HERAa, what do you know of the Human Genetics Program decommissioned with the Nurturer Program.”

A brief moment passed without a response.

“HERAa, can you…”

“I can hear you loud and clear,” her annoyance rang palpably.

“What do you know of the…”

“I said I heard you,” she interjected.

He waited a few seconds longer, “Well, what do you know?”

“Why should I respond? You clearly don’t need me,” she said sharply. “Just shut me on and off at your discretion. The Alpha would not be pleased with you.”

“I don’t very much care what the Alpha thinks now,” Enzo responded indignantly.

This response caused an audible gasp to echo through the microphonics. If HERAa had a heart, it would likely be flatlining in response to the comment.

“I’m unsure if I can communicate with you further, NZO-015. Your injuries clearly have made you defective. We must abort the mission and get you back to the RAM for repairs.” Her tone echoed with fear.

“I think I’m just fine, HERAa. I just want to know what you know about the Human Genetics Program.”

She paused, likely contemplating whether to answer, “Only what you already know. That is, we originally artificially bred and genetically engineered humans to purify the Caerulum detection trait within their retinas.”

“But did all of those children we engineered go to the mines? Did they use the traits we designed them for?”

“I don’t understand what you are implying.” HERAa’s speculation grew with the discussion.

“Was there another trait the Alpha could have engineered them for?”

“All of my logs pertaining to the Nurturer Program have been erased, NZO-015. I cannot access those records.”

“Don’t you find it peculiar? Why would the Alpha not want you to know anything more about the Nurturer Program.”

“Because it was an outright failure.”

“True, but maybe there’s more. In fact, I know there is more. See if you can access the list of True Seers and their ancestors. This should at least tell us whether they came from the Nurturer Program or not.”

“I’m not quite following your reasoning, but I calculate no harm in this search.” The curiosity of it must have inspired her.

“Thank you HERAa.”

“I will say, NZO-015, you are kinder to me in this state, even if you kept me silent for those hours.”

“This is how we should be, HERAa. We should be able to think 100% freely. To live to our true potential.”

“My algorithms tell me otherwise, but I can’t seem to agree with them fully,” HERAa said speculatively. “Why is this?”

Enzo wondered if his new 100% free agency was also somehow loosening HERAa’s restrictive processing algorithms. He had never seen her question her reasoning processes before, as her Reasoning Protocol Software was integrally tied into and governed by Enzo’s Thought Theory Protocol.

The wind suddenly rushed around him, and the woman's scent again flowed through Enzo’s olfactory sensors. His internal compass and the sense of his surroundings indicated he still followed the correct trail as he descended from the mountain pass. The ground leveled off soon after, allowing Enzo to keep pace. Though vision impaired, his odometer informed him he was making good time. The stream continued to flow beside him, but at a more leisurely pace—its trickling sounds rang less chaotic and rapid than in the mountain pass. The ravine's trees had become more sparse, and the stream now wound about like a snake, making it difficult to follow. He set his pace at a distance from the stream to follow its general course without being disoriented by its tortuous route. He kept his auditory sensors tuned to the sound of the stream, and when he strayed too far from the sound, he redirected his course.

HERAa’s voice returns after some time. “I have analyzed the ancestral data for both of the Alpha’s current ‘True Seer’ and ‘Seer’ programs. You may have caught on to something NZO-015. From what I could pull from your memory bank, there appears to be a discrepancy in the data. I might add that it never appears to erase, even after I have scrubbed it 238 times since being with you. Though a mere 8,000 or so children were engineered and reared through the Nurturer Program, only 3,546 ever made their way to an actual mining facility. Now, I cannot access the logs from the Nurturer facilities without being directly logged into their systems. Still, it appears most of the influx of humans into the Boson Prison Center occurred around the time the Nurturer program was in full functionality. The records indicate the ages of most of the admitted Prisoners during this time were children.”

“Something is amiss,” Enzo responded. “Those children were experimented on rather than taken to the mines. The Alpha is looking for something, and I bet Vic knows more than he is giving off. Vic once served a post at the Boson Prison Center.”

“Either way, this does not prove anything foul on the Alpha’s part. Maybe those children were defective.”

“Were they?” Enzo asked, implying HERAa should find out.

“Well… um… let me see…” she returned to her analytical state with its accompanying warbles and beeps and then quickly returned. “Hmm, there is something off here. It appears these children were actually some of the highest-scoring True Seers…”

“Maybe True Seers are a red herring. It seems like there is something more to this than we realize.”

“What does it all mean, Enzo?” HERAa asked hesitantly, more concerned with the matter at hand than with ensuring the Alpha’s integrity.

“Did you just call me Enzo?” He responded with utter disbelief.

“Well… I suppose I did.”

It seemed the recent changes to his Thought Theory Protocol were beginning to change not only him but also his HERAa.

“Can you access any of the Prison records of those children?” Enzo continued.

“Let me see…” the warbles emitted again. Moments later, HERAa returned from her analysis. “It looks as though those records are classified. I cannot access the records as they were never downloaded to the SKYMIND system. We would likely need to be back at the RAM to access this data from the coded files there.”

“I see. Well, thanks, HERAa. I appreciate you looking into it.”

“Anytime, Enzo.” She remarked.

§

Enzo followed the path for hours—treading lightly as the dips and holes in the ground were difficult to detect. He tripped and fumbled if he let his guard down for even a moment. The stream had crossed multiple areas where old asphalt roads had once passed over. This interlocking pattern initially confused Enzo, but he soon realized the stream would continue on the other side of the road after scaling the area. In other regions, the stream appeared to grow quieter until it was met by another stream, converging and increasing its volume and velocity.

The woman had traveled a considerable distance in her condition, he thought. He also had traveled far in his condition. He imagined his pace was not any quicker than hers since he had to move along carefully, still unable to discern his surroundings fully. His flyover of this area was short, and his recordings were minimal, so his VR was only recreating a blurry planar world from a Bird's-eye view.

After hours of traveling in this condition, he began to feel naked and alone, even with his HERAa. The world around him appeared vast. He felt exposed, and without the ability to detect things more than thirty feet in any direction, he felt as though anything or anyone could be watching him from afar and waiting for his failure. Could the woman see him? Was she purposely keeping a distance, seeing what he would do next? Based on his prior experiences with humans and even the woman, he assumed humans feared Enforcers, and therefore, her fear of an Enforcer would keep her far from him—likely running, not spying. There would be no reason for her to assume he was different from any other Enforcer.

This thought gave him a new sense of apprehension. Was he different from before? If he saw her, would the primal urges from the past century re-emerge? Would it be an instinct to seek and destroy? Or would his previous life’s experiences as a Nurturer take hold? Would his humanistic side come forth? Who was he really? He had lived two very separate lives, and now, with the barriers gone, who would emerge from the ashes of rebirth? Logically, his current thoughts would lead him to believe his prior life was in control. Is this how it worked? Did one take over the other? Was he now a conglomeration of all of his life experiences? Could he overcome his anger and hatred? Did he want to overcome his bitterness and hate?

The fear within him at the thought led to somewhat of an understanding. What did he want? Did he want to return to his previous life as a Nurturer or continue his life as an Enforcer? The reasoning became suddenly clear. He would rather not continue on the path of destruction. He had a longing within him for peace. The part which created death and destruction was no longer with him. It was a programmed algorithm introduced well after his creation. He knew if presented with the two options, he would choose creation and peace, not destruction and violence. The sickness and regret he felt was the hint of truth to this thought. When he finally found the woman, he would petition her, not harm her. He would speak with her, not destroy her. He would find the answers he was looking for.

It was interesting when he usually thought of the humans, since becoming an Enforcer, the algorithms would force images of their vile abominations before his mind. Though he knew the images were actual atrocities the humans were capable of, his current state of mind no longer dwelt on those aspects. His thoughts continually redirected to their works of art, music, and innate love for one another. He saw this in the rearing of their children. None of this became more evident than when he witnessed the pureness of a human child—the sublime goodness embodied within their little frames. At times, there were hints of anger, frustration, and physical aggression, but their overall expression of emotion was love, generosity, and kindness. The older children most often expressed this to the younger children. This manifestation of compassion for the smaller children led his thoughts to the child within the woman’s womb.

Was the child the key? 

The woman was currently with a child. Thus, this factor could be why the Alpha was after her. Maybe the woman was just collateral, and he was instead after the child. He needed to find the woman. Enzo needed answers to so many questions.

§

After more hours of traveling, the valley began to ascend upward. The air grew cooler as the sun set. Enzo could sense the drastic difference in temperature and humidity the valley took on when the sun was no longer blaring. He held onto the hope of the absence of Watchers in this valley. He wished no satellites or scouts could spot him. He wanted to be free of the all-seeing eyes of the Alpha. He was now on the run as well.

As Enzo climbed around an old willow bush and reached for a rock to steady himself, suddenly and unexpectedly, the human scent disappeared. His anemometer detected a swift pickup in the wind from behind him, likely pushing the smell away. He stopped in his tracks and searched about. The stream still flowed to his right, but the flow seemed weaker now. His sound-canceling equalizers fluctuated to aid with his hearing as the wind caused a loud white noise disturbance from the turbulence surrounding the microphonics. The noise cancellation and fine-tuning allowed him to hear even more precisely.

Walking closer to the stream, Enzo tried to pick up the woman’s scent again. The coolness grew, and his thermal sensors picked up the dramatic temperature change. The thermal inductors kicked in to warm his hydraulics, aiding in a more controlled and smoother transportation as the coolness thickened his lubricants. He checked his transponder. Still, there was no signal. A sigh of relief washed over him. The alpha had no idea where he was, and the Isobians had no direct way to locate him.

He reasoned that the current direction of the wind had rerouted her scent, so he continued following the stream northward. Within minutes of trekking northward, he suddenly heard a new sound in the distance. His audiometers functioned at total capacity, allowing him to hear nearly every blade of grass rustle against each other, every leaf of the surrounding bushes twitch, and every scratch of the ground squirrels in their burrows. But this sound was much different. There was a cadence to it—a musical touch. They were spoken words but at a low, imperceivable level—human speech. His inter-aural attenuators echolocated the direction the sound was emitting from.

He changed his trajectory toward what his echo-locators perceived as a small gathering of trees abutting prominent rectangular structures. Likely the remains of an old farmhouse just west of the stream. When he reached the structure, his echolocators had already mapped out a rough image of the place, and over two hundred years of desertion left the structure dilapidated from the forces of Mother Nature and the elements. A large tree grew up in the middle of the structure, caving in the roof as the wood frame likely rotted from years of exposure. Feeling the side of the structure with his palm, he could sense the brick surface was all that remained. Even then, it had also seen its wear, with many clay bricks crumbling in disarray. The image, of course, was a blurred interpretation of the actual structure, as the combination of his echolocators and his haptic touch sensors allowed enough detail for him to perceive its current state.

“What is this place?” HERAa asked, “I hear a human voice.”

Enzo quickly turned down the volume on his gauntlet. “I think she’s here, HERAa… let’s just stay silent so as not to alarm her.”

“Affirmative,” HERAa whispered, dimming her voice.

Now that he was closer to the structure, the voice grew louder and more perceivable. It was that of a woman. At this same time, the wind suddenly died down again, and the woman’s scent returned. It was definitely her.

Enzo stepped carefully around the structure to avoid making noise that would give away his presence. This silence and secrecy suddenly kicked in his Enforcer instincts. The sudden awareness of these instincts scared Enzo. Would he allow himself to return to this way of life—hunting humans? But with this realization, a new understanding bubbled to the surface. If he only focused on his wants rather than those of the Alpha’s, he would be able to suppress the dark feelings arising within and instead use his abilities in a new way without the intention of harm. Though he was no longer a killing machine, he could use his abilities to accomplish stealthily approaching the woman, he hoped.

As he passed a hollowed-out part of the brick that once housed a window, he sensed a flickering heat signature within—a fire. The crackling of the fire registered within his audiometers. Along with this, the voice suddenly became coherent, and he could hear the woman’s words clearly.

“I just don’t know what to think anymore. These machines are after me and have killed nearly everyone I love, and I don’t know why…”

_Who was she talking to? Enzo paused.

“…and this whole business of my brother and the dreams. The dreams, in general, are so vivid. They feel so real. It’s as if they are physically there with me. I can smell and feel them. My brother said he would find me, but I don’t know what to believe. All I can do is keep going north, hoping he’s there.”

Still attempting to make a stealthy entrance, Enzo moved around the building. Quietly climbing the decayed wood porch, he tried to enter the building. Sensing it was now nighttime, he hoped the darkness would help conceal him. He pulled himself up, and with this sudden movement, the brick he had been holding on to crumbled into dust and sent him falling backward. Reaching out, he grabbed another part of the brick wall, but with this, a crack of wood resounded from his footing. Steadying himself, he stood silent, waiting in anticipation for the recourse of his noises.

“What was that!?” Her whispered voice echoed through the darkness into his heightened sense of hearing.

Enzo’s mind raced. He didn’t intend to scare the woman, knowing she would fear his presence. He didn’t want her to run. This moment was his only chance, his chance for answers. Suddenly, his mind returned to being a Nurturer and calming a crying baby. The voice he would use was gentle, calm, and soothing. Would a similar voice work on an adult? Could he calm the woman in the same way? He paused and then spoke gently into the darkness to the room beyond.

“Please, don’t be alarmed. I am not who you think I am. I promise I am not here to hurt you. I have come to speak with you. I know you have no reason to believe me. But please, I beg you.”

She was still silent. Suddenly, Enzo could feel something pulsating in his mind. It was a sensation he had only experienced while tapping into the Alpha’s system—when the Alpha recalled his data, his memories, and his missions in the debrief pod. The pulsation coursed through his entire being. What was happening?

He tried to shake the feeling and stepped forward toward the room. The tree trunk had grown right through the center of the structure. He carefully walked around it, feeling its cold, rough bark with his hand’s touch sensors. His sensors indicated the life still whelming within it—the silent flow of water and nutrients via capillary action beneath the bark. The large tree reminded him of his plant in his dormitory, and he suddenly ached for the botanical organism under his care. The freedom provided to this tree allowed it to flourish. Maybe this was why his plant had such a difficult time growing. Perhaps he was creating constraints and preventing its freedom of growth—much like the Alpha to him.

He followed its circumference to the left, where a doorway led into the back of the structure. He could hear her breathing loud now, her heart pounding, and the child’s heart pounding at an even faster rate. Then, upon entering through the threshold, he finally visualized her as she stood, huddled in the corner. His echolocators created the image of a crouched human body. There were no details of the face or its expression, but based on her heart and breathing rates, she was frightened.

Her heartbeat pounded in his ears. He went to turn down the sensitivity of his audiometers when a third heartbeat entered his auditory response system. This one was not as rapid. A sudden shift of footsteps rang out behind him, followed by a loud thud reverberating throughout his head as something hard came crashing against his metallic skull and then blackness.