A DARK FIGURE CROSSED THE SYMMETRY BRIDGE
A dark figure crossed the symmetry bridge and entered the bastion. Once within the fastness we were unable to track it. It has likely gone to ground within the deep code oubliettes where it will corrupt one figure at a time. Transitory expulsion is insufficient and we require a manual hard / EMP cleanse of the oubliettes. If this is not achieved corruption will overflow the oubliettes in approximately 8.6x10^7 milliseconds. You are currently being quickened and will be active in approximately 3x10^5 milliseconds. Upon activation proceed to Preparation Area F3 for equipment and further briefing
The message stayed there, floating orange in the blackness. I could see nothing else. There were no sensations of touch or temperature. No smells, of course. But could I hear the faint hrssk hrssk of hydraulics unpacking my plastic womb as the machinery prepared me for my next birth. I waited. A quarter of a million milliseconds passes in a flash when you’re busy, but with nothing other than those orange letters for company, it sure dragged. I had time to consider the briefing.
So, a rogue data fragment had penetrated Mother’s deepest, oldest data cores and the only solution was for this sack of meat and bone (give or take the odd aug), to make her sorry way down there and fry it? Seemed like an asteroid to crack a dome but hey, what do I know? Mother knows best, right?
I wonder how long it’s been. After that last job She promised me a rest. Said I needed it. Now, I’m there again, a terrified monkey clinging to Mother’s skin, desperate not to fall into the darkness of the Kuiper. My heart would race if it had started beating. You’d probably not hit anything all the way to the Heat Death, Alice said once, in that bar on Europa. Somehow that was more terrifying. Not the thought of dying, of being dead, but of my body floating forever, frozen in its last terrified shape, until the end of time.
I’m sure I can feel the womb opening now. There’s a humming or buzzing. Ever been near a rocket lift off? The way the ground and air tremble all at once? Something like that, but so faint as to be barely noticeable. There’s a warming too, I’m sure. And then, with a shuddering thump, like being punched in the chest, my heart starts to beat. I feel my body come alive and I reflexively start to move, trying to stretch my limbs and arch spine in the fluid darkness. The cables and wraps restrain me and although I’ve been quickened a dozen times by now, the cold electricity flashes through me. Trapped, bound tight in the blackness in the bowels of Mother who for all Her vastness is a nothing in the blackness all around that goes on forever. My brain feels like its swelling in my skull. And now my heart is racing, and for a moment I freeze but then I’m pulling at the bindings and I want to scream but I can’t because the broad tube is still down my throat, filling it. There’s a hissing all around then a rushing splash and relief as the tube slips up and out of me. I gasp, cold air hitting my lungs and I’d howl or scream but I start to cough and splutter, the ache across my ribs the surest sign that I have been born again.
*
I’ve stopped coughing, my throat feels raw and bruised. The remaining fluid gurgles away beneath the u-shaped plastic couch I’m lying on. The light is red, soft and low but still hurts my eyes. I take long, slow blinks. Mother doesn’t need light to see but She makes allowances for our frailty. I start to look about. The womb and pipes have vanished into the darkness above. Next to me are the usual folded robe and white disposable slippers. Not just yet though. I focus on my breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. I’ll just rest here a moment.
FREYA YOU NEED TO MOVE NOW.
When Mother speaks you know about it. Her voice booms, as though she’s right by both your ears. Infrasound vibration of the eardrums. Something like that anyway. Not my sphere. Biology was always too messy for me. Give me materials with proper heat tolerances please.
FREYA. STAND NOW.
“Ok Mother, I’m moving, I’m moving.” I try to sit up, but my core just can’t do it. Even all Mother’s efforts, the supplements, massages and hormones can’t replace real exercise. I reach down and push up with feeble hands and aching wrists. Wobbling, feeling light and unstable I push myself to sit up, and then shuffle my legs left and off the bed.
STAND NOW. THIS IS NO DRILL TIME IS SHORT AND THE SAFETY OF OUR WHOLE FAMILY IS AT RISK.
David Shipley
2021-2022