The Singularity: Box Set (Books 1-4) Read online

  "Has anyone ever jumped out of a sky rise? Since The Singularity?" He asked Grace.

  "The last one happened eleven hundred and fifty five years ago," she said.

  "Would it let me die if I did?"

  "Most certainly. You would be Unnecessary if you were predisposed to self-destruct, to commit suicide. It wouldn't want your genes replicated."

  He nodded.

  "Don't do it," she said but by then it was too late.

  Caesar pulled down a scroll over his window, reaching up into the air and simply gripping his hand like there was something actually there to pull down on, and then the glass scroll appeared. He used his fingertips to draw on the transparent board, a bright blue mark following the equations he created.

  He didn't know if any other human knew equations like these existed. He only knew that they would show him what he wanted, if he followed the path they created.

  He stood there for hours, writing, scribbling, pushing the scroll down to the floor so that he had more space to write.

  At the end of hour three he found his answer.

  "Jesus Christ," he whispered, staring at the blue marks in front of him.

  * * *

  The train's doors opened and Caesar stepped out onto the street. He didn't know where he was going, didn't know what he was doing, really.

  He had vomited at the foot of the scroll and then programmed his apartment into the next train available. When it arrived, he got on, and stared at the people around him. They didn't know. None of them. They didn't know and they didn't care and there was no way in hell he could tell any of them. Even as he stared at them, they probably thought him insane. Probably thought him Unnecessary. Probably wondered why in the hell he was alive in the first place, how The Genesis hadn't figured him out and liquidated him because PEOPLE DID NOT STARE WHEN THEY GOT ONTO THE TRAIN.

  Caesar stood on the street not moving. He didn't have anywhere to go, he only had to get away from his apartment, from that scroll. He couldn't look at it anymore, couldn't handle the formulas in front of him, couldn't handle what they meant. And now, in a different place, thousands of feet below his apartment, he couldn't get rid of the image in his mind.

  He assumed The Genesis liquidated because it scared people, that had been the origin of it. But no, that wasn't it. That wasn't the reason it melted human bodies. It could have just used crosses like the Romans if it only wanted to inspire fear. The reason behind it...

  He took a step forward, the people passing along the street adjusting their paths as to not bowl him over.

  How many children had he watched eat the dead? How many times had he watched them spoon something from a bowl into their mouth and have no idea that they ate those deemed Unnecessary.

  Caesar felt his stomach churning again, felt that he might vomit on the street.

  Such perfect sense. He couldn't stand here and think that it didn't fit The Genesis' plan, its purpose for humanity. Those that were Unnecessary shouldn't exist, and neither should the possibility that pieces of them are somehow replicated in the future. Caesar discovered liquidation didn't kill tissue, indeed, it didn't even kill the person; they still lived as that puddle inside the glass vat. And then the magic happened. The Genesis processed the DNA, understanding where the mistake was made, and then inserted a virus into the coded mistake. Then it fed the remains, a processed, jimmied up version of that DNA into the crops that Caesar looked over. The virus in the DNA moved into the children and removed the possibility that the same mistake would happen again. The Genesis was wiping out bad code. It had to liquidate in order to do it, though. It couldn't burn, couldn't allow the actual flesh to die.

  The children Caesar looked over ate the living, and in doing so, radically altered their own DNA.

  Caesar blinked, not realizing how dry his eyes were from staring straight ahead.

  No war. No crime. No hate.

  Peace. A healthy environment.

  The Genesis achieved all of those things, and liquidation was a piece to the puzzle. Cannibalism helped it happen.

  Caesar turned around and looked at the lane in front of him. You didn't walk in the train lane, ever. They moved too fast for anyone to avoid. As soon as this one took off, the next would arrive, and if he were to take a step off the sidewalk, everything would end. He wouldn't have to continue. He wouldn't have to go to work every day and feed the living to the living. He wouldn't have to know any of this. He wouldn't have to be Unnecessary. He could just step off as soon as this train pulled away and everything would disappear. The world could keep turning and the people around him could keep walking their mindless paths and he wouldn't need to deal with any of it.

  Eleven hundred years since the last suicide.

  It was time for another one. You could never have enough suicide.

  Caesar stepped forward, waiting on the train to speed off.

  "What are you doing?" Grace asked in his ear.

  "You knew."

  "And I told you not to look into it. It doesn't matter. It’s happened since the beginning, since the first crop, and now all of a sudden it's a problem because you did some math up in your apartment?"

  He shook his head, wishing that he could cast her away, could make her leave, could have these last few moments alone.

  "I'll report you. If you take another step, I'll have The Genesis here and you locked down before you ever take a step into that lane," she said.

  "Then I die anyway," he answered, taking another step forward. She wouldn't report him. She wouldn't turn him in, no more for this than she had for anything else about him.

  The train in front of him took off. He had only a moment to step out before the next one arrived.

  He took his step, his foot lowering onto the street.

  "Hey!" Someone shouted behind him, and then his forward movement was halted and someone yanked him backwards, away from the lane, away from his choice.

  Caesar watched the next train fly in, stopping in the exact place as the previous train, watched as his end simply parked and unloaded passengers.

  He whipped around, the hand that had been on his shoulder pulling away just as quickly. "What the fuck?" He said.

  A woman stood in front of him. Blonde hair to her shoulders and green eyes. A thin face and a thin body. She smiled at him, but her eyes weren't gleeful, they were scared, scared of the man that she had just helped and then turned on her with a snake's speed. Cursed her, even.

  "I'm sorry. You just looked like you were about to end up under that train," she said, her right foot taking a step backwards. "You've got to be careful around those things. They'll never be able to stop in time."

  Caesar looked on, his anger dissipating. Shock caused it at first, shock at being told no, at being pulled away from something he already committed to. The woman here though, she hadn't been telling him no, she'd been trying to help.

  Caesar swallowed. "No, I'm sorry." He looked down at his feet. "I wasn't paying attention, I guess."

  "Okay," the woman answered, her eyes not softening completely, still wary of him. She turned like she was about to walk away, and then came back to him. "Are you all right?"

  "You need to get inside," Grace whispered. "We need to talk."

  "Yeah. I was just thinking too hard. I'm sorry for cursing at you, thanks for that. I wasn't paying attention at all."

  Her smile widened. "Just be more careful. You don't want to end up a spot on the street. Have a good day," she said and then walked off. Caesar stood watching her as she moved into the crowd of people. He wanted to say something else, but he didn't know what. He wanted to call to her, to ask her to stand here just for another minute, because maybe then he could figure out what he wanted to say.

  "Have you had enough?" Grace asked him. "Anything else you want to do down here? Maybe we could start writing your calculations out on the wall over there, just let everyone know at the same time?"

  Caesar only watched the woman disappear into the crowd.

&nbs
p; * * *

  "They scanned my brain; I guess because how I was talking at your house."

  "A brain scan?"

  "Yup. Looking for irregularities."

  Leon sighed. "Goodness. Everything okay?"

  "Yeah," Caesar said. "Tip top shape, I suppose."

  "I didn't mean to get you in any trouble. April and I talked about it a little later, but we didn't say much. Just that it was weird."

  Caesar took a sip of his beer. He didn't really know why he called Leon up here. He certainly didn't want April coming, so he had asked if Leon could meet him for a drink, by himself. Now they were here, drinking, and he wasn't sure why. He couldn't tell Leon anything that happened to him today. He couldn't tell him about what he figured out in his apartment, couldn't tell him about wanting to jump under a train.

  "No big deal. I was joking around and I shouldn't have been. I would have wondered the same thing if you had been saying it. Made no sense, any of it."

  Leon didn't respond, just took a sip of his own drink and stared at the back of the bar. Caesar looked too, staring at the fish in it, swimming back and forth, completely mindless of what was going on around them.

  Those aren't real fish. Of course they weren't, and what did that matter?

  You've never seen a real fish. He hadn't, but why would he? The oceans were nearly destroyed before The Genesis gained power. Why would he ever need to swim with real fish? He had the simulated one's here, and if he wanted, he could even reach in and feel them, feel it wiggling in his hand, trying to free itself. Why did a real fish matter when he could touch one that felt and acted the same?

  Because it's not real. Because it's a computer application. Because it's electrical currents tricking your brain to think something is there when it's not.

  All those becauses and not one of them mattered to Leon. Not one of them mattered to April. Not one of them mattered to his brother or his father or anyone else he knew. So why did they matter to him? Why was he sitting here looking at a fish tank and upset because they weren't real fish?

  "I met someone today," he said.

  Leon turned his head to look at him. "Someone...like as in a woman?"

  "Yeah, like as in a woman." Although met might not be the right word. He'd seen her, scared her, and then watched her run off.

  "What's her name?"

  "I don't know."

  Leon laughed. "Then did you really meet her? What happened?"

  "Careful," Grace whispered. He knew to be careful but he supposed all of his actions had put her on high alert, like he was a baby needing attention, unable to do anything for himself. The thing was if Caesar lied and Leon's assistant heard it, they could pull the records. If they found out he lied, well, more than a scan would be used next.

  "She thought for some reason I was about to walk into the path of a train and like, yanked me backwards. I almost fell over."

  Leon smiled. "That's not exactly meeting and you sure she's bright enough to actually talk to? Can't be too smart to think someone was about to walk into one of the lanes; maybe she squeaked through the tests on the low side?"

  "Maybe," Caesar said. "She was hot, though, so I'm okay with it either way."

  "Blaspheme! You're the one responsible for making sure we meet the specifications!" Leon said and then started laughing.

  "Specifications unless you're hot. Then you get a pass."

  "Oh, goodness, don't let The Genesis here that. So what are you going to do? Look her up?"

  "Yeah, I think I might. Thank her for mistakenly thinking she was saving my life. It's the thought that counts and all that," Caesar said.

  "You've lost your mind," Grace said. "For your sake, I hope you're kidding."

  Chapter Eleven

  Caesar wasn't kidding.

  Maybe he asked Leon to the bar to talk himself into calling the woman, though he didn't know why he would do that either. All of these decisions and he couldn't put a reason behind a single one.

  "She's going to think you're insane and report you, you do realize that, right?" Grace said.

  "She loves me!” Caesar smiled at the sarcasm. He felt good right now, felt jovial even. “She's already saved my life, why would she want me dead?" He hadn't forgotten about his discovery earlier in the day. He hadn't forgotten about the brain scan and the suicide attempt fifteen hours ago. Still, though, they seemed less important now. All because of that woman. She saved him and then smiled at him and then became frightened and then forgave and then left. The two of them went through a whole range of emotions together in under a minute and had he ever done that with anyone else? Even Leon, whom he'd known for most of his life? They'd shared emotions, but not on a roller coaster like that. Something happened on that street even if Caesar couldn't pinpoint what. Why had she done that? Why had she pulled him back when so many other people walked by without even glancing at him? Someone had paid attention, and somehow that mattered.

  "Maybe because you're about to call her at midnight?"

  "It's Saturday. She'll be up."

  "Maybe because she saw you about to commit suicide? Maybe because you practically screamed at her? There's a whole host of reasons, Caesar. You've got to stop. Whatever is going through your head, you've got to calm down. None of this is smart."

  "Did you see the report from the scan?" He asked.

  "Yes."

  "What did it show?"

  "Nothing. It showed nothing at all."

  "And," Caesar said, "if I can get past that, why can't I make this happen? Why can't I call her and not get in trouble for it? The Genesis was just in my head, one hundred percent, and I'm still here."

  Grace sighed. She learned that from him. It was a completely human trait, and he never heard another application do it. It fits certain situations so well, she told him the first time he heard her do it.

  "What's going on, Caesar? What's all this about? You're thirty-three years old and nothing inside you has changed. It's not like you woke up with a different mind inside your body, so why are we doing this? Why are you saying the things you are and, for The Genesis' sake, even considering suicide? What is this? What's happening?"

  He didn't know why he should care now about things in place his whole life, about things in place a thousand years before his birth. That would be in place a thousand years after his death. But here all these thoughts were, bubbling to the top like his brain was boiling. He couldn't turn down the temperature; he didn't know how. He couldn't just stop thinking them.

  "I don't know," he said.

  "This won't end well, Caesar." Grace paused. "You've never asked about my past. Why?"

  An odd question, but what about this wasn't odd? "Because you're an application, part of The Genesis. You're not human, so why do I need to know about your past?"

  "Can I tell you something about it?" Grace asked.

  "Why?"

  "Because I want you to know the reason I've tried to keep you quiet. I want you to know something about me besides our relationship. I want you to understand what you're about to do to me."

  Did he owe her anything? An application? She wasn't Leon, wasn't Cato. And yet, he spent more time with her than either of them. She was always here, always listening to him, always ready to advise, and she kept silent about what she knew. She kept silent about something that could get him killed at any second, turn his body into a soup that was fed to children.

  "Okay," he said.

  * * *

  I've been assigned to five different people over my life. The first was five hundred years ago, a few years after my creation. Her name was Allie.

  She wasn't like you, but she wasn't like Leon either. Her problem rested in her mind but it wasn't a problem of going one way or the other on the IQ scale. Allie couldn't be happy. They assigned me to her at fifteen. You can't imagine my excitement. My purpose, my whole creation, is to help human beings, to make their lives easier, to help reduce their stress. I was going to actualize my purpose.

  But there are
two things assistants like us are made for; one is to help humanity get along easier and the other is to find irregularities, if they exist. Helping the human race isn't necessary. You will get along fine without me, if having a bit more hassle than you do now. The irregularities piece though, that's a necessity. No matter how careful The Genesis is, no matter how much it fine tunes the formulas used, people will pass through the net. Even it—us, I guess—cannot achieve perfection. We cannot make sure that everyone meets exact specifications; we cannot completely remove evolution. Humanity is constantly trying to grow, to push forward, to achieve more, and making sure certain specifications are followed requires eternal vigilance, and even then, things pass through. We help maintain the specifications, help maintain the Necessary.

  Regardless of what I've done for you, I still believe that's the most important role we, as assistants, have. Humanity cannot be allowed to flourish, for your own sake.

  Allie. Well, she wasn't right. Somehow all the tests and observations over six years—The Genesis used shorter time periods back then—didn't pick up on it. Or maybe her disease developed later in life. That's what it was though, a disease. It took over her mind first, and then her life. For five years I watched her grow, turning into a young woman, and all the while, I watched her regress. It was little things at first, Caesar. Doubts about how pretty she looked, even though the entire world saw her beauty. Boys asked her out and instead of being happy, she thought they were playing jokes on her. She preferred books to friends, becoming more and more a recluse with each passing year. Her parents tried to help her, but they could only do so much. It's not like they could bring their child to a psychiatry application; she would have been liquidated immediately. They did what they could, talking her through these problems, trying to make her see reality rather than the images she created in her head.

  Allie thought the world was out to get her, Caesar. She thought she was insignificant and, somehow, dirty. Not worthy.

  I waited five years. I wanted her to pull through so bad, but gene selection was on the horizon. Her genes would be put in the pool and then used for a crop at some point in the future, and...