Pandora

L-0W quickly glanced at her arm, where her PerCo Personal Data Companion had just finished analysis of the air quality, particle identification, radiation levels, and weather patterns of the gloomy dustbowl and was now issuing a comically long series of warnings. She snorted. Coming here meant death; she already knew that. Still, she quickly swallowed an iodine tablet, drew her nanite weave tight around her face, and tightened the straps on her goggles and oxygen mask, for she could already taste the deadly, radioactive salt. It was bitter and numbed her lips, and the smallest particles couldn't be avoided. It was the first time she had ever tasted salt, and she had been bracing herself for the sensation.

What she wasn't prepared for was the somber beauty of the place. She found herself in a desert canyon so large, it had once covered thirty-odd percent of the earth. White dunes of salt and mica and phosphates carved into steep crags, pillars, and deep valleys, and behind her- the reddish cliffs that marked a vast continental shelf. Long ago, she was told, it had been a sprawling blue ocean, teeming with all sorts of curious biological marvels; forms of life she'd only seen in holograms. She could still see remnants of bone and shell littering the desert sands, which were a chalky white. This is why she had come. She must not fail. Her creator had sacrificed so much for this moment. Her hand went instinctively to the heart-shaped locket around her neck; the last gift from her creator. Her mother.

She turned to rummage through a small carbon crate on the back of her Basilisk, an Automobeast, which began a low, rumbling whine out of anxiety. She retrieved a set of long-distance binoculars, and turned in her saddle to stroke the chimera on the snout. It may have been mostly machine, but there was a glimmer of life in it's eyes, which betrayed a primordial intelligence.

“Shhhh. It's alright,” she said with a soothing voice. “It's a strange place, I know. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Why are you lying?” Asked her PerCo in his warbling voice. “You'll both be dead within a day or so.”

“I wish you wouldn't say that.”

“It can't understand what I'm saying, but you can. Miss L, I would greatly advise you to turn back. There's enough depleted uranium in the dust here to... I can't bear the thought of losing you. I do realize that you are—”

“You don't 'realize' anything, Percival. You're not real.” The digital assistant fell silent, brooding. She felt a pang of guilt.

“...Percival, I'm sorry.”

“Quite alright. I'm just afraid of being alone.” The computer said sullenly.

“That is why I have to do this. For us. So man isn't so lonely anymore. Mom asked me to. You know?”

“I know.”

“So I have to.” She raised the binoculars to her eyes, obtained her course, and gripped the throttle.

Across the marbled sands they sped, the sun and the salt draining the moisture from every pore, and every bodily crevice became a burning spear. The Basilisk must have been in pain, but didn't show it, and deftly navigated mile-wide craters left from a hundred years of nuclear bombardment. The dust was relentless, and occasionally massive swells would kick up from the swirling winds, blinding L-0W, but the Basilisk sped on with a roar, undaunted, with the precision and endurance of a machine. This is what it loved, if it could be said to love.

Oceans. These were oceans. The thought was absurd, and yet sublime. Once, the Earth had been a place where life, motion, beauty and cool water spilled out across the expanses, enveloping the planet with precious oxygen. Legends spoke of mythical gardens, where life hung dangling from every precipice, and forests that stretched a thousand miles. There was white snow, and green grass, and flowers of every color. Now all that remained was a pale graveyard. Vicious storms of static electricity. Cities of broken glass. War. Dust. Death. Colorless. Heartless. A thousand thousand cloned and augmented men left huddled in fortresses of metal. The victorious gods of death; imprisoned by their own mastery of nature, their merging with machine. No human fear nor spiritual regret would sway them any longer, for they had long ago traded them for merciless artificial minds. They had bargained with the Devil at the crossroads of singularity, and had bought power in exchange for their souls. All but a few precious men and women. L-0W's mother.

These thoughts churned in her head as hours passed, and L-0W neared her destination. In the distance loomed a dark and fateful spire, coming ever closer, which protruded like a sword from the enormous salt flat in which it lie. The black tower of her fate. It couldn't have come at a better time; the Basilisk was beginning to show signs of radiation poisoning, and the poor creature had begun to shake and tremble and it's breathing was becoming labored. L-0W was beginning to feel the effects, herself. Soon she would be comatose, and shortly after, she would die. The sun had begun to set over the pale landscape, and strange and brilliant colors cascaded across the windswept desert.

Percival announced her arrival with a grim assurance. “Approaching Pandora Project Uplink Facility, South Pacifica, latitude -36.290576, longitude -107.052817. Weather advisory: static electrical buildup detected. Please proceed with caution.”

“Thank you, Percival. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Miss L.”

She pulled the Basilisk to a covered entryway, which had been half-buried in chalky white sand. Dismounting, she gathered her pack, slung it over her shoulders, and snapped the buckles into place. Overhead, silent flashes of lightning struck eerily, a foreboding warning of the doom which surrounded her. The Basilisk gave out a low moan, and began to shudder roughly. L-0W knelt sorrowfully, pressing her forehead to the Automobeast's brow, and gently stroked it like her mother used to stroke her when she would wake up terrified by the sound of bombings in the night. She began to weep, and the salt stung her eyes.

“Thank you,” she sobbed. “You've been a good friend. You've helped me so much. I love you, and if I didn't have to leave, I wouldn't. I promise I wouldn't.”

The Basilisk gave a weak huff in response. Time was too short. L-0W had to keep moving. Even now she could feel the weakness in her muscles as uranium poisoning began shutting down her organs. She was dizzy, and feeling very sick. She stood, and after one last look at the loyal Basilisk, she ducked under the rusted black archway which led to life and death.

After some time it became too dark to see, and Percival activated the PerCo's torch. A large vaulted ceiling greeted L-0W, and several yards away, a door. As she approached, a keypad flickered on, and the facility sprang to life.

An automated female voice echoed out into the cavernous dark: “Pandora Project Uplink Facility iteration SP-03 online. Timestamp 18:22 10.28.2213. Stand-by for genetic identification and sterilization procedure.”

A blue laser shot from the dark and began to inspect her. L-0W held her breath. The fate of all mankind would hinge on this moment. The light vanished, and there was a long pause.

“Genetic identification complete. Welcome, Dr. Lawrence.”

L-0W exhaled sharply, and chuckled. Her mother's work had not been in vain.

“Amazing woman,” Percival remarked. Indeed she was.

A glass panel slid firmly shut behind her, and promptly, the long hiss of silver-ozone aerosol flooding the chamber. After a moment, it began to dissipate.

“Sterilization complete. You may now proceed, Dr. Lawrence. Please enjoy your stay.”

The irony. She called the elevator, which roared open with blinding light. She stepped inside, and up she went. From the rising glass elevator walls, she could see the vastness of the facility, now starkly lit by still-flickering florescent bulbs. Row upon metal row of strange scenes of glowing tubes and bubbling vats and alien equipment. This was it. This was the moment she had been created for. She was so close. Her mother would be so proud of her.

“Percival,” she said. “Please play holotape number eight.”

“Of course, Miss,” he said softly. A buzzing blue light sprang into view, garbled static, which formed into a beautiful face. A soft breath. She began to speak, and L-0W mouthed the words she'd heard a hundred times:

“L, darling. I'm sorry to say this, but if you're watching this then I'm gone. I've asked Percival to play this message in the case that I've been arrested or killed. You're on your own, now... Dr. Kushnir and Dr. Batista are not to be trusted. Don't tell them anything. Just take the locket and the Basilisk and run... You know where to go. My sweet baby, I wish I could have gone with you, but in my line of work, you make a lot of enemies. My only advice is to be strong. Be brave. Take your mask and your goggles and your iodine, and first-aid. Trust in Pandora to make things right. We must succeed. We must fix this mess. Nobody knows happiness anymore. We need you to do this. The animals. The trees...All life is in your hands now. So I ask you, please finish what I have started. You are everything I've dreamed of, L. You are the best parts of me, and I love you with all my heart. That is why I gave you my heart, to wear around your neck until it's finished. The heart of God. To you I give the whole world. Goodbye, L. I love you. Percival, end recording.”

The elevator had long since come to a stop, the door hanging open. Silence returned as her mother's voice echoed off into the metallic spaces beyond. L-0W wiped the tears from her stinging eyes, and with it, small patches of hair came free from her scalp. Her hand felt wet on her face, and looking down, she realized it was slick with blood. No turning back, now. Not ever.

Before her lay the control room. A large computer terminal sat on a raised platform before a enormous window that gazed out upon the ancient ocean floor. It was awaiting input with a dim glow. L-0W calmly reached behind her neck, and undid the delicate clasp of the silvery, heart-shaped locket. On the side, amid a maze of floral engravings, there was a hidden latch. With a small burst of humidity-controlled, pressurized air, the hatch swung open. Inside, between soft padding, was a tiny golden box. Pandora's Box. Inside of this tiny box lie all mankind. Untold evils, monstrosities, vicious creatures, and Hope.

L-0W did what she had trained her whole life to do. She worked quickly, for fear her irradiated body would contaminate the precious cargo inside the little box. She deftly navigated the computer's complex interface, her vision blurring and head aching, entering of dozens parameters and fail-safe codes. A small electronic drawer slid open, and in the center; a cube-shaped receptacle. She placed the box inside with slow deliberation and shut the drawer.

“Please enter four character alphanumeric launch code,” the terminal read.

With a trembling hand, she entered the sequence, one which she could never forget:

“L...-...0...W. Enter.”

Then the tower began to shake as if it were awakening from a long sleep. Terminals sprang to life, and strings of data began to scroll at breakneck speed. In the distance, she could hear the roars of rockets. Satellites sung to one another in low-orbit, and spewed forth an aerosolized mixture to blot out the sun for years to come. Across the world, the machine-man chimeras howled in terror as their empires crumbled before their eyes. Soon they would be gone; replaced by a new and pure humanity; a rejuvenated earth, with trees and birds and fish. There would be oceans.

“You did it, L.” Percival said. She didn't answer.