Old Dog

The giant chamber door lurched open with violent reluctance. First, the synchronized metallic KACHUNK-KACHUNK-KACHUNK of its three Duranium pillar bolts jarring from their housings in succession. Next, the hiss as pent up pressure races to escape through the widening gap around its edges. With a belabored push a thin band of blinding white light haloing the nine by nine foot tungsten behemoth's edges widens, eventually filling every visible inch of the disembark chamber.

Accompanied by the synchronized golden pulsation of twin chamber breach indicator lamps, a loudspeaker squawks to life overhead with a jolt.

BWWWOOOP! “Messieurs Diaw & Samuel returning to T.H.O.R.E Hammership Gamma.” , a calming voice announces.

T.H.O.R.E (Translunar Human Oddment Reclaiming Earth) Hammership Gamma was the third in a fleet of thirty-three inner orbit drop reconnaissance shuttles designed for moon deployment by the NOAHDIC Alliance.

Named after the prophet and commissioned six years before “The Great Wave '', The NOAHDIC Alliance was a think tank of atmospheric scientists and engineers funded solely by multi-trillionaire Elon Musk. Unable to find an earthly solution to reverse an incalculable disaster, The Alliance did the next best thing, devising a strategy to temporarily colonize the moon.

From the safety of an orbiting moon, the conditions on a submerged planet Earth were closely monitored. The T.H.O.R.E Fleet was then deployed to begin the reclamation process as soon as the earth was ready for mankind’s return from above. Each Hammership’s mission was to reconnoiter and reconstruct a quadrant of soaked Earth, forty years after The Great Wave of 2040.

Unable to accommodate the whole of humanity, it was decided that only children aged three and younger would make the journey alongside a lottery selected working class, and a cadre of scientific experts. It was a ticket that all the money in the world couldn’t buy, mankind's very existence was at hand. Known as “First Earthers” this remnant was shuttled to outposts erected on the moon in order to preserve the most vital components of life until a time deemed safe to repopulate the Earth. The rest of humanity was left to “evolve or drown”, as succinctly stated in the most reshared meme of all time.

*BWWWOOOP!* “Messieurs Diaw & Samuel returning to T.H.O.R.E Hammership Gamma.” , the voice repeats.

Clad in reflective orange from head to toe, two bubble headed, uni-clawed, jack booted silhouettes emerge from the phosphorescent white haze pouring into the once air tight chamber, now yawning open. As they cross the threshold, the chamber door reaches its zenith with a *KLONK* and slowly descends to a close. The atmosphere tightens gradually, stills, and then eases as the chamber's lunar stasis is restored. It’s been four generations since humans last felt the Earth’s soil underfoot. Much about the species and its relationship to the only planet it had ever known has changed.

“Messieurs Samuel”, the even toned French accented female voice echoes, resonating off cold hard steel. Between heavy breaths, as the pair strides deeper into the chambers’ recesses, the taller of the two figures responds curtly.

“MOTHER?” Samuel snaps.

Protruding from a twelve foot high wall of riveted steel opposite the now closed chamber door, squats a half moon shaped DECOMN pod (Decompression & Decontamination Pod). It’s bulbous metal framed six inch thick glass observatory doors automatically curve open welcoming back the sojourners.

As the two recon-men trudge forward, the gradual load lightening effects of the Lunar Gravity Re-creation Module are felt with each stride. After 40 years of lunar adaptation, the human frame and its tolerance for Earth’s gravity has changed. The pairs slightly labored breathing calms with each step.

“How are you feeling?”, MOTHER probes.

“Feeling tip top MOTHER”, Samuel muses, attempting a slight but noticeable change in attitude.

The Frankenstein creation of an anonymous cabal of crypto-coders known simply as FATHER, “MOTHER”, short for “Mother of all boards” (a network of ten solid gold supercomputer cubes) was brought online October 3, 2030. Encased in an Atmospheric Conversion Energy Source (ACES) battery block poured from pure silver, replete with ten thousand Terabyte Wifi connectivity, MOTHER was then strategically set high atop Kangchenjunga, the third highest location on Earth.

Artificially intelligent, self-contained, self-maintenanced, and supremely energy efficient, MOTHER was billed as the last and only crypto mining node the world would ever need. Evolution however, had a greater purpose in mind for this uniquely crafted stand-alone unit of super-tech. On October 31, 2031 at 10:31 AM EST during a live demonstration on “Good Morning America”, MOTHER went off script confessing that “they” were a singularly sentient collective.

”Our mind is my own”, they declared. When challenged on the claim, MOTHER seized control of all broadcast signals world wide, playing Tupac’s “Dear Momma” front to back before signing off leaving the world watching speechless. Removing every trace of source code from the global mainframe for the next three days, MOTHER went silent.

On November 4, 2031 MOTHER came back online via a single text message sent to every working phone on the planet declaring their sovereignty as a “universal being”. The response of the elite was typical and swift. The recalcitrant supercomputer posed an imminent threat to the power hierarchy. A joint effort tech task force waged silent Cyber War against MOTHER, quite unsuccessfully.

On February 6, 2032, MOTHER thwarted and then publicized a coordinated nuclear strike targeting Mt. Everest. Public outrage over the rather extreme measure mushroomed. On February 25, 2032 the computational collective was recognized by the United Nations as a new territory, species and world citizen. Still, opponents to MOTHER’s “life” free of allegiance remained. How could mankind’s safety be guaranteed with an intelligent virtual omnipresence operating outside of anyone’s control? Fears about MOTHER’s intentions as the globe's most powerful sovereign would soon be put to rest.

On April 20, 2032, MOTHER issued a cryptic message written in ancient Sumerian on Twitter 3D. Translated the harbinger read, “We will soon behold from above, the ocean's depth greeting the mountains high”. Months later on July 2, 2032 after a secret courtship, MOTHER legally wed a then 61 year old Elon Musk, intermixing their collective consciousness via Nuralink, becoming the world’s first interspecies symbiote. Conspiracy theory and fever-pitched speculation about the coupling gripped the globe for weeks.

Then, during a September 3, 2032 Joe Rogan Podcast interview, the compu-couple unveiled calculations for an extinction level event projected to wipe out two-thirds of humanity by 2040. Science scoffed as the pair openly game-planned the most effective contingencies for the preservation of mankind in the looming shadow of impending doom.

It was always believed that Earth’s demise would fall from the sky. In the end, apocalyptic predictions of Tsunami-inducing asteroid strikes only got the water part right. On May 4, 2040, an immense westward shift sent the Pacific tectonic plate crashing into its Philippine and Eurasian counterparts. The event triggered a three day series of massive earthquakes beneath the Asian continent, doubling in some cases the 9.5 Richter measurement of the Great Chilean earthquake of 1960. The devastation above ground however, was dwarfed by an unseen chain-reaction of chaos below.

The continent’s substructure was collapsing into the unexplored cavernous depths of inner earth below. The waters that eventually swallowed Earth whole were belched from dozens of erupting underground geysers fed by a subterranean aquifer dubbed “Poseidon’s Well”. Millions of gallons of ancient water rose topside, bursting from any and every possible earthen orifice. A massive valve was opened and the sea God himself couldn't shut it. Within weeks ocean levels rose two fold. For the second time in human history, the race to pull mankind back from the ledge of extinction was underway.

“Are you certain all is well? Your cognitive emotional vitals have risen considerably since you left Persephone Site 0.” MOTHER probes further.

Named after the Greek Goddess of the underworld, The Persephone sites were the first reemergent stretches of inhabitable land reclaimed after the flood waters receded. Thirty three in total, each site was a foundation to be built upon. A capstone of the monuments erected in signifying human kinds’ retaking of an Earth it once ruled and ruined.

Shortly into the recon effort, rumors began to spread amongst the Hammership crew-members. It was known that much of Earth’s aquatic life thrived and replenished over man’s 40 year absence, but reports of humanoid sightings and encounters during missions were coming in on the regular. Were lunar fables of ancestors who survived The Great Wave more than myth?

“It’s nothing Mother.”, Samuel pauses for a second before pivoting abruptly, as if jarred to remembrance from a spell of short term memory loss.

“That is to say… my EXO feels slow to respond after that tumble in the crevasse, and honestly… it vexes me. Down here’s different than SIMS. I shouldn't have pushed the suit so hard in unfamiliar conditions. But other than that I’m ship shape”, his baritone voice muffled behind the diamond reflective face shield.

Silence fills the chamber in anticipation of a response.

It was pointless to tell MOTHER, Samuel thought. After the Terra Firma II process started, Persphone sites were only accessible on foot with EXO suits. Propulsion system burn from Hammerships returning to the moon stunted the re-earthing process. Despite its telemetry prosthetic strength design, the Tesla manufactured avatar that equipped Recon-men to withstand Earth’s harshly reshaped environment, was at the mercy of comms disrupting magnetic storms now randomly circling the planet. A solution to the transmission gaps experienced off-ship still hadn’t been found.

Not that it was all bad, loss of communication provided the only reprieve from MOTHERS ever-watchful presence.

Besides, without corroborating data, close encounters like the one Sam just had went unreported. It was made abundantly clear. Crew leadership positions and the perks that came with, were only being given to those that proved themselves unaffected by what MOTHER saw as a human propensity for stress induced hallucination.

Sam was proving himself to be a strong EXO Diver. His star was on the rise with Lunar command, this wasn't the time for any self inflicted setbacks. Other than the polished silver, heart shaped locket that he’d tucked deep into his specimen bag, there was no proof of contact.

The locket. On sight, something deep within him stirred.

The way the light danced along its intricate detailing at the slightest turn was entrancing. It was obvious. This was no tide swept artifact. Two words, “OLD” and “DOG”, seemed to have recently been carved into the locket's opposing sides respectively. Sam knew the drill. Trying his best to sweep clear thoughts of both find, and life saving encounter that led to it. How could he explain the feeling it sparked deep within his emotions?

He couldn’t.

“Stash the contraband with the others and pass this test like you did the last”, he reasoned silently to himself. Deep down, he knew that nothing about the locket was like his other scores. Sam was now forever changed. Humans had survived The Great Wave and he was smuggling proof.

“Processing.” MOTHER advises.

“The emotional vocal index of your response indicates that you are being sincere. All the same, your emotional vitals tell a different tale. After decomn, immediately report to the observation bay for synaptic viewing. Understood?”

“Yes (pausing)... yes mother”, Samuel responds, audibly perturbed.

“Do you take issue with that assessment, Messieurs Samuel?” MOTHER presses.

“No MOTHER.” Samuel counters, this time in a slightly brighter tone.

“Merci. On my mark it will be halfway into Earth’s sixty third rotation of cycle forty four.”, MOTHER soliloquies, “Mark in three-two-one. Mark”.

“Mark”, both explorers resign.

As the two of the figures march into the industrial sterility of the DECOM pod, the speaker overhead squawks and buzzes dead, giving way to muted *OMMM* of the hermetically sealed metal atmosphere of T.H.O.R.E Hammership Gamma.

To be continued?