Ex-ternal

The tank emptied before my eyes could open. A slurry of synthetic embryonic fluid rushed from under me until my feet touched down on the uterine drain.

I quickly adjusted to the soft light permeating the silicon womb, while a dim collection of lights watched intently from the other side. Lukewarm saline showered down, rinsing the nutrients from my body; until the womb slid open into a sterile room and warm air circulated across my body.

“Emergence complete, welcome to EXternal, user.” A friendly, distinctly robotic voice, emitted from a drone about the size of a dog; hovering at eye level. I didn’t respond; instead, I spat saline onto the lemon-scented linoleum floor with a satisfying*hurk.

“Mirror.”

“Acknowledged, User.” the drone whined softly before projecting an image.

“Ugh,” I would see myself as the ancients had. Striding past the hologram I stepped into the External proper, beset by familiar smells. Pine-scented air, freshly tilled dirt... Sterile and synthetic.

My reflection waited in a pool of rainwater. Ethnically ambiguous, as was the style, with a thick burr of coarse curled hair along the soft carapace of my skin. A breeze rolled past, bringing the scent of salt, seaweed and decaying fish.

Life.

I shivered.

There was a quaint village of Externals, such as myself, near the birthing caves. After a brisk hike, I reached a grouping of cliffside cottages overlooking the sea. From there, a thin man named Judah allowed me to spend the night with him and his family before I embarked in the morning.

We sat around the dining table, suffering a harsh drink they'd fermented themselves. The young wandered as we ate. Single-Cycles with devices embedded into their necks. Which constantly scanned them, synthesizing their essence, watching them play, watching their dreams, capturing their soul.

Waiting like a voracious beast to drag them into the Internal.

I wanted to dash their skulls against the roughspun wood floor; To save them from life.

The table jolted as I rose from my drunken haze. The child nearest me looked up with fear. Then I threw up on Judah …and went to bed.

Through glazed eyes, a drone descended. An epitaph of the day’s events, both shameful and unwarranted, permanently added to the me they had captured in the Internal.

There was nothing I could do to stop the soft green light cascading over me.

Good. They deserve to feel this.

On cue, the stabbing laughter of children rolled in from outside.

I’ve lived far too long. They won’t let me go.

While waiting at the edge of the Village, I wondered how many times I'd reset, and how long it had been. With the standard policy to obscure the passage of time, all I know is last I ventured into the External; there was neither cliff nor village. No matter what I seemed doomed to return to the precipice of this... ending, wishing that my soul would be stolen away, but denied again and again.

The children laughed. This time my ending must be permanent.

Soon, Judah joined me by the cliffside. I had announced my plan to go to sea last night, and they’d gifted me a boat; a solar skimmer, barely heavier than me. It would take me north; A frigid “danger zone” the drones quarantined..

Over time I'd almost scoured all the dirt and pixels both the internal and External had for a way out. But I'd yet to visit the danger zones... Or perhaps I had?

After departing I destroyed the skimmer's transmitter. Next, I had to deal with mine: A device similar to the SingleCycles’, a Black Box of my memories embedded in my temple.

There was an old expression from before the internal, still somehow stuck in my mind.

“I need this like a hole in my head.”

Well... I need a hole in my head.

Skidding across the waves I watched as the shoreline receded.

As Night fell, the stars charted my course. Made difficult by the buzzing satellites and the subtle shifting of constellations.

The drones' presence was unrelenting, hovering just above the horizon in the space between light; waiting for me to fall asleep.

After setting the skimmer north, I leaned over the water. The reflection of my pursuer waited, silhouetted against the moon. After piercing my finger into my temple, a soft pattering of blood dripped into the water. My head spun, but I dug further.

One rip and that thing was out. whirling tendrils whipping a spray of viscera, before tumbling into the water.

My vision blurred as my body fought to stem the flow of blood. I passed out.

Then I awoke with a start to find a little bird pecking the freshly congealed hole in my head. My plan worked; the drones had no idea where I was. Surely this was new.

Without the device, every memory I made out here would be my own; an unfortunate blessing, if I failed my future selves would have no idea whether the North was worth it. With every day came small triumphs. Primarily from fishing; Once in a while, I’d get a bite, hauling one of the plentiful beasts into the boat to consume. The meat I’d devour immediately; every last greasy morsel. The skin I’d dry along the solar panels. The organs, bait to coerce fresh fish into this vicious cycle. On the off days, with no fish, I'd carve small words into the boat that only I'd remember, before drifting to sleep under the panels.

It grew colder and colder, matching my growing thirst. Condensation from the machinery could only provide a mouthful of clean water per day; My body was fading already, cooling off, shutting down.

I began to tear up sections of the skimmer to make clothing from the foam lining of the vessel, tied together with the leathery strips of fishskin, that also doubled as my rations. Canabalising my travel as I sailed towards my final shore.

Days later, a sheet of ice leached from a snowy shore. I cut the engine, removing the rudder to break away the ice and onto solid ground. Immediately shovelling the fresh snow into my mouth.

From there, the days grew harder.

I dragged the husk of the skimmer like a hermit crab, across the frozen wastes. A solitary figure across this icey hell devoid of life.

During the day, I fought through the snow. Scanning the horizon for signs of a former self in the snow. At night, I rested underneath the shell of the skimmer, nestled into my makeshift clothing.

I was running low on fuel, on will; even death would bring no release.

At some point, a storm began, sweeping over the region and delaying my progress. No telling whether it would let up before I froze. I needed to keep moving; time had ceased all meaning, no fuel, no warmth, only forward. And so I struggled, lips cracking and ice forming along my coarse tangle of facial hair.

I would make an ugly corpse.

On the verge of collapse, I spotted a dome silhouetted against the blistering white storm that collapsed all around me. Fuelled by the smallest sliver of hope, I dropped my shelter and ran, eventually finding my reflection in a polished chrome hatch built into the side of the dome. Casting the skimmer aside I rushed forward; With my last ounce of strength, I wrenched against the frozen steel; as if it was fuel to fill my stomach; the warmth to my bones; the knife to my soul. Fingernails cracked, tongue bleeding, as I fell into the bunker, landing on something soft.

My eyes adjusted to the dim lights just as the door closed. It was still freezing here, although the soft whine of fans meant machinery, it meant heat.

I attempted to rise but found no strength... until It realized what I was lying on.

It was me... a masticated corpse of a body with startlingly white skin and dazzlingly vibrant orange hair, a scan where a transmitter should have been.... It was the second time I’d made it here. Only I had died, frozen to the floor of the bunker. With shaky hands, I stroked the frozen flesh underneath his eyes. Feeling it grow soft. They had run out of food, but I wouldn’t.

Soon I had the strength to carry myself. The dome housed a vast expanse of computer banks. Although the air in the corridors was frigid and deathly it felt warm and soothing next to the machines, where I had feasted.

Something in this facility would reveal its purpose; luckily, I had an influx of leftovers for my expedition. Truly a horrid sight, some ghastly phantasmal apparition, haunting the halls of this abandoned complex, greedily consuming its flesh; an ouroboros-made man; unwavering voracious appetite.

In the distance, the lights seemed to coalesce, forming my guiding star, dragging me ever onward. Soon my eyes beheld a sight unknown for eons; a solitary computer. With a note stuck to the rim of the monitor, “Password!23” I rushed forward, nearly tripping against the cool grating. This ancient device yielded to my sheer determination, after slamming my fingers against the keys.

EXTernal, Terminal 1203015403 5ASD,

INTernal, Guidance and Surveillance;

Asdsda123415 1245254356234’ Aada

sdfafAG35453 53245464364636 Aada(1)

...

It was a list of everyone...

I shot down a nearly infinite list of people, searching for a unique line of code that could erase me from existence.

HFJDsasd 88693 3598239575307 Sampson(535873908765446576897080897896785676⁹)

I saw my entire life condensed down to a mere petabyte of data. Days, weeks, months, years, millennia. Tears formed on my cheeks, pattering onto the ground. It was here; all of me was here.

Without hesitation, I slammed DELETE...

Only to be met with a prompt; “Waiting on user consent (10... 9...).”

User consent?? User Consent!! Here I was, stuck in a frozen hellscape. functionally lightyears from the Internal.

“1... 0... Consent FAILED - User unreachable, Admin access, unauthorized, retrieval in progress. "We're coming Sampson."

I fell back onto the floor. If you’re lucky, it’d take 100 years of inactivity in the External before rebooting you internally; There was nothing I could do, and the drones would be on me soon, flying at hypersonic speeds for a daring ‘rescue’.

With nothing else to do, but wait for either the frostbite to kill me or a retrieval beam to also kill me, I spent some time looking at everyone else’s happy little lives. Watching them enjoy what our forebears left us.

Not for the first time, I wondered why I couldn’t enjoy such gifts. Where in my history had I gone so far from this intended path? Strangely, I thought about Judah. His file showed an enjoyable, blissful month with his family. The unconditional love represented by a single text document. Out of curiosity, I dragged it into my file.

“Copy Complete, Synthesis complete.”

....I just killed myself.

What used to be me was now an amalgamation, part me, part Judah. A programming oversight that could write into my profile. Zooming out, I took in the breadth of individual experiences logged and, with disparaging ease, Instantly gripped the collective memories of the human race. With a smile, I hit Ctrl + V, pasting it all into my file.

Immediately the fans picked up.

Ctrl-V

Again

Ctrl-V

Again

Ctrl-V

Ctrl-V...

Again and again, until a crimson light ripped from the computers, simultaneously tearing the fans into a jet-like roar. The computer tried to cancel the operation, but I still had the password.

“Error... Error, purging. User, cease.”

I stepped back, sweat dripping from my brow; the bunker’s temperature skyrocketed. From above I could hear screeching and tearing of metal; the drones were too late.

An ear-splitting shriek erupted down the corridor as a wave of electric blue light swept toward me, a torrential wave of pure energy. I spread my arms to embrace it: Oblivion.

Could it be?

...

Could it?