the 25th possibility

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billy had just arrived in the great city, and joey was showing billy around. joey was pointing out to billy some of the more curious places and persons in the metropolis. “check this personage out,” said joey. “a real old-timer, a real crowd favorite.” the creature joey indicated was short and bald and wore a black knit cap, a threadbare greenish-brown flak jacket, and flip-flops, and it carried a handful of slim pamphlets. skinny bare legs showed between the jacket and the flip flops and billy had the impression that there was no other clothing under the jacket. but it was a pretty warm day. “hello, noko,” joey addressed the creature. “hello,” noko replied uncertainly, as if not quite remembering joey. “this is billy,” joey announced. “billy might not know about your cause.” noko looked at billy suspiciously. “no? are you interested in saving the world, young person?” “if i am not, i probably should be,” billy replied politely. “do you mean saving the world from sin? from capitalism? from socialism?” “no, no, no,” noko protested. “none of those things. all those things are all human, after all. i mean saving the world from the aliens!” noko thrust one of the pamphlets at billy. “oh.” billy looked at the pamphlet, “humans unite! “ the cover urged, over a drawing of the earth impaled with something that looked like a big eye dropper. “humans have to unite!” noko urged billy. “no more separate countries, no more separate races, no more separate religions or political parties. otherwise the aliens will divide and conquer and wipe us out! we have to all pull together before it is too late.” “yes, that sounds like a good plan,” billy agreed, flipping through the pamphlet. “but are the aliens actually threatening? i have not seen anything to that effect in the news.” “threatening?" noko replied. "they may already be here. in fact, they almost certainly are.” “oh. i had not heard.” “there is a copy of a letter in the pamphlet,” noko went on. “you can copy it and send it to the emperor of the united states. to the pope and the dalai lama, to the presidents of china and russia, and anybody else you can think of.” “i’ll be sure to do that,” billy folded the pamphlet back up and smiled at noko. noko stared at billy. “aren’t you going to make a donation? i can’t keep the cause going on air.” “of course, what was i thinking?” billy held out a couple of coins, with noko quickly snatched. “humans unite!” noko cried in what billy took to be a dismissal. noko moved off, and joey and billy continued on their way. “noko is just the tip of the iceberg,” joey laughed. “some estimates are that twenty percent of the people in the city are like that.” “i hope i am not expected to give them all money.” “ha,ha! no, you got caught off guard the first time. next time you will be prepared.” “and they all believe that the aliens are invading?” billy asked. “that, or something else pretty much like it,” joey shrugged. “how about you, do you believe the aliens are invading?” “oh, i know they have already invaded. and have been steadily taken over human bodies for a while now.” “and how do you know that?” “because it has already happened to me. didn’t i ever tell you that i - or the person you knew as joey - was taken over?” “ha,ha.” “you think it is a joke, do you? you will find out. “ billy considered this as they walked along. “so what are you going to do with me, now that you have told me this?" “i don’t know, i will have to check in with my superiors.” billy did not answer. they reached the ice cream shoppe that joey had previously recommended, and entered it. “try the pistachio butternut,” joey told billy as they stepped up to the counter. “yes, i remember you told me before.” next

the 14th possibility

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but, kenneth, she looked so sad - “ “she was a child. and we can not take any chances.” “i don’t see how you can say all the children are these mutants. surely some of them are truly lost and need help -“ kenneth banged his fist on the steering wheel. “we have two thousand miles to go, helen, and you are starting to drive me crazy with your nonsense.” “i - i’m sorry, kenneth, it’s just that i - “ “don’t start again, helen. we have been over it all a hundred times.” helen started to speak but stopped, and nodded. kenneth kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road, which was only a little lighter than the surrounding dark desert. they were driving with the headlights off, to conserve the car’s energy. despite helen's lament and kenneth’s outburst, they had not seen one of the children for over forty miles. or any other cars. “what was that?” helen asked. “a jackrabbit or a coyote, if it was anything at all. “ “i wonder why there are no other cars,” helen said after a while. “because most people have either had enough sense to reach the refuge already, or were too stupid to even try. people like you, helen, who thought the children could be negotiated with.” helen did not reply, and kenneth went on. “in case you have forgotten how dire the situation is, my dear, let me refresh your memory. it seemed that civilization was progressing quite nicely in the year 2409 when the world parliament got the bright idea to give all schoolchildren the wonder drug f-877, to improve their cognitive skills and their stamina. within two years a new race of super children emerged and proceeded to ravage the earth, driven by urges and motives that the most renowned scientists could only guess at. the children were - are - implacable, relentless , invulnerable, and above all, untiring. they never sleep. the surviving adults , including some of the world’s most eminent scientists, have gathered for a last stand in a dome in the mongolian desert. the dome we are trying to reach right now, and will if only a few storms come up and we can recharge the car and if our supplies hold out.” kenneth looked up at the sky. a few stars and a thin moon lit it up, but there were no clouds. “damn it!” kenneth cried, “where are those storms bob wilson promised me!” the energy meter on the dashboard showed a perilously low 18 percent. as they hurtled through the desert the meter dropped to 17, then 16. “look,” helen finally cried, as dawn finally began to show. a few heavy clouds showed on the horizon. even better, a few flashes of lightning showed among them. “at last,” kenneth exhaled. as the clouds seemed headed directly toward them, he stopped the car. kenneh and helen got out of the car. as kenneth began opening the energy nodules on the front and sides of the car, helen got a couple of bottles of water and a couple of sandwiches out of the trunk. “this is strange” said kenneth, watching the approaching storm. “it is coming almost too fast - almost as if it were being guided.” “guided by what, dear?” asked helen. but as she spoke, they could see some small, ghostly forms appearing on the horizon as the sun rose. children! quickly, kenneth got into the car and retrieved his blaster from the glove compartment. “get your own weapon out of the trunk, helen,” kenneth commanded. helen hesitsted, but went back and took a small blaster in a holster out of the trunk and strapped it on. the children - about six or seven of them that helen and kenneth could see - came closer, but the storm clouds came even faster, until they were directly overhead. then the clouds unleashed their fury. rain poured down, and tremendous blasts of lightning lit up the sky. but instread of being drawn down into the car’s energy nodules, the lightning blasts converged on kenneth! screaming curses, kenneth unleashed his blaster on the clouds. but to no avail, as the lightning lit him up and hurled his lifeless body to the ground. the children came closer, and helen could begin to make out their faces. how innocent and beautiful they looked! helen reached for the blaster but something knocked the holster, and the blaster in it, off her hip and into the sand. the lightning stopped. the first child was now plainly visible, even in the wind and rain. a little girl with the biggest, bluest eyes helen had ever seen. “don’t be afraid, pretty lady,” said the girl. “all we need is love.” next

the 9th possibility: a terrible secret

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“what’s that? resign? nonsense, minister, you know you can’t let us down like that. you are doing as splendid a job as ever. the empire needs you more than ever, the empress needs you more than ever.” bradford shook his head. “i am sorry, but i have made up my mind. you have known me for years, fenwood, and you know i never say anything unless i am absolutely sure of what i am saying.” “but,” fenwood stammered, “with the alignment offensive coming up - this is no time for a new ministry to be taking office!” “there have been alignment offensives before,” bradford replied placidly, “and - unfortunately - there will be alignment offensives in the future. and i have grown weary of them. the galaxies align, the galaxies get out of alignment, they align again , new offensives are planned and launched. and nothing changes. except that we get beaten back a little more every time.” “that is all very well,” fernwood replied. “but - why now? i, for one, think your new proposed strategy quite brilliant. simple, but brilliant." bradford laughed. "it is simple because i have run out of ideas. as for ‘no time for a new ministry to be taking over’, who can say at this point? after all, i have been minister of war for forty-one years now.” “indeed you have. it seems like only yesterday that you took office. and with such high hopes!” fenwood sighed. “high hopes! i think not, my dear fernwood. in case you have forgotten those terrible times, let me refresh your memory… the empire lay prostrate, convulsed on every side with rebellion. not rebellion from the races subjugated in humanity’s triumphant sweep through the universe, but rebellion by its own children. its own children, the very machines that had served it so well in its glory days. and which now rose up against it, smashing, looting, obliterating…. and mocking. in an organized manner which revealed a common purpose, or overmind, which had never been suspected. an overmind whose exact nature the poor human race has not fully fathomed to this day… as the apocalypse burst around us, a few human heroes came forth…. brady… canby… names which bring a tear to the eye and a swelling to the heart even now. inspired by these heroes, some of us resolved to dedicate our lives to the defense of the human race, in however humble a capacity. for forty some years now i have sat in harness at this desk, in my appointed capacity as minister of war, trying to control and harness the flood of information, and make do with the paucity of resources at the besieged empire’s disposal. there were flickers of hope, in the early days, but these flickers have faded to a single dull ember, an ember which grows fainter with each new desperate so-called offensive, each more pathetically doomed than the last.” the minister of war looked down at his desk and fell silent. “but look here, old fellow, a few weeks rest, perhaps…” fernwood began. “no more. stand aside, please. i have requested an audience with the empress. and as you know,” bradford smiled. “i have a reputation for punctuality.” * fernwood watched bradford disappear down the corridor, headed for the elevator to the empress’s suite. he hastened away in the opposite direction, to the office of the minister of information. as he did, he sent a message to the commanders of the fleet and the army. * “i am sorry to hear that,” the empress told bradford. “but i am not completely surprised. you have served me well, bradford, but, then, all things must come to an end.” bradford nodded. “i am honored to have served.” “and in return,” the empress continued, “i have kept your terrible secret.” “for which i thank you. if i may presume, i was wondering… i was wondering if you will continue to keep the secret.” “why, i suppose i will. if i can. i can not promise anything.” “i understand.” * commander williams of the fleet put his fingertips together and considered fernwood’s information. “who knows?” he asked. “it may be for the best.” “but right now?,” asked general mason. “later perhaps, after the offensive is over, but right now it might throw a bit of sand in the gears.” “perhaps,” commander williams agreed. “how about you, jaspers?” he asked the minister of information. “ any ideas?” “yes, i have an idea.” * when bradford returned to his office, he found a young woman - or more likely, a simulacrum or replica of a young woman - waiting outside his door. whether she was a real human or not, she was the youngest specimen of “humanity” he had seen in about thirty years. bradford could only guess at her real or simulated “age”. fifteen? twenty-two? thirty? it had been so long since he had seen such a creature. he did register that she was wearing a short skirt of the type he vaguely remembered as “schoolgirl”. now the creature put her finger in her mouth. “aren’t you going to invite me in, daddy?” daddy? what did that mean? “i am afraid i am rather busy now,” bradford told her. he smiled gently. “i have a war to win, you know.” “awwww! don’t be that way, daddy!” of course, bradford suddenly realized, this is all fernwood’s doing, he and his cronies in the other ministries. to what purpose? what it just their sad idea of a joke? “i do want so much to get to know you!” the young woman continued.. bradford looked up and down the corridor. he did not want to cause a scene. * fernwood looked down at bradford’s body. “this could hardly have ended worse,” he sighed, with a meaningful glance at commander williams. “indeed,” williams agreed. “but at least he died with his boots on, as he had always wished.” a doctor was kneeling down over the body, and a couple of technicians were examining and photoing the deceased minister’s sparsely furnished office. the schoolgirl was flopped lifelessly in the office’s only chair. one of the technicians pointed to it. “what shall we so with this, sir?” he asked fernwood. “eh? do what you will with it. i suppose you will need it as evidence of some kind. after that, dismantle it, or revive it, or do whatever you please with it.” “by god!” the doctor suddenly exclaimed. fernwood and commander williams looked down. “look here!” the doctor pointed to the wrist of the deceased. a thin metal rod was protruding from it. both men grasped the significance immediately. commander williams recovered first. “i am sure it is nothing, doctor. just some sort of medical implant. why, i am sure you as a doctor would be the first to recognize - “ the doctor did not answer, but contunued examining the body. “not a bit of it, sir,” the doctor looked up. “i have sounded the whole body. it’s a rum business, to be sure, but the whole underlying structure is metal - including the brain.” the full significance began to sink in. bradford, who had served for forty-one years as minister of war in the endless war against the machines - was himself a machine! fernwood was stunned. but he had no time to stand there with his mouth open and dwell on the implications of the shocking discovery.. the office of minister of war was now open, and he had to call in his markers. next

the first possibility, red version

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the welcoming of the newest class of level 3 officers was about to begin. the two hundred and forty-two recruits were all in their seats, in twenty-two rows of eleven recruits each. austin was seated in the eleventh row. in the fourth seat from the left. a nice inconspicuous spot, she thought, in case the speaker was inclined to ask questions of the recruit audience. not that she had any real fear of a question, or any lack of confidence in her ability to answer one. austin had a simultaneous feeling of relief and apprehension every time she started a new class. relief that she had made it so far without being found out, apprehension that she would be exposed somehow at the next level. always the same fear - that at the new level, an effective program of mind scanning would be in place. austin felt confident that she could navigate and bluff her way through anything less. a person emerged in the periphery of her vision, walking down the left aisle to the podium. all the recruits sat perfectly still with their eyes facing forward as the person, presumably the instructor, ascended the podium. the instructor wore the green uniform of a level 3 officer, but without any insignia denoting rank, or - austin’s sharp eyes noted - any name or i d tag. “good morning,” the instructor announced. “this will be brief. you were all issued wrist devices this morning. there is a single button on each one and i ask that you press them to turn the device on.” the instructor took a small tablet out of his pocket and consulted it. the recruits assumed it was recording whether they all turned their devices on. “good,” the instructor said after a few seconds. he looked up. “we are going to show you a short film, and the devices will measure your responses to the film. when the film is over, you may leave the auditorium and you will be free for the rest of the morning.” the inspector gave the recruits a friendly smile. “i would advise you to spend your time studying the manuals you were issued this morning. but that is up to you.” and with that, the instructor descended from the podium, and the film began playing on the screen behind the podium. a flat green field under a blue sky. no trees, and no clouds. a brown rabbit with a white tail bounds into the picture from the right and stops. a person austin recognizes as a “knight in shining armor” energes from the left. face covered by a visor, and carrying a long pointed lance, but not riding a horse. the rabbit and the knight exchange words, in a language austin does not recognize. subtitles appear. also in a language that austin also does not recognize. the words spoken and the words in the subtitles do not seem to match, at least not phonetically. austin keeps her eyes on the screen and does not look around to ascertain the reactions of the other recruits. a red rubber ball falls from the sky and lands at the feet of the rabbit and the knight and bounces around for a few feet but they ignore it and continue their conversation. the knight picks the rabbit up and puts it on his shoulder and walks away, into the center of the screen, down a dirt road that opens up and gradually out of sight. a little girl appears on the. screen. she is dressed in the style of the 23rd century, but has a hair style from the middle of the 25th. she sees the red rubber ball on the grass and starts to cry. the scene changes. an old dark house, a dark and windy night. a single light shines in an attic window. wind and rain and thunder. a sudden flash of lightning. the little girl’s sobs can be heard over the sound of the rain and thunder. the film ends. austin and the other recruits file out of the auditorium in orderly fashion. next

the 17th possibility

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zux paused for breath at the top of the hill. and there was a borg, aiming the stun-blaster at the end of its left arm at zux. behind the borg was the river, and beyond the river was freedom. “give it up, zux,” came a voice from behind zux. the all too familiar voice of colonel a. zux turned around. there was colonel a, with never fading smile, and two more shiny borgs. “come, zux, there is a good human now,” the colonel’s soothing accents intoned. “why cause problems?“ zux looked around in every direction. two more borgs appeared. then three more after that. and even worse than the borgs, zux could see the holes in the earth - the endless entrances to the center of the earth, down which the human race had been led, cajoled, and carried. he was trapped. it was over. “you know you are the last, zux,“ colonel a continued. “you have fought the good fight. you can be proud. you are the last human on the face of the earth.” colonel a was not a human - merely a simulacrum programmed to show a “human” face and speak a droning “human” voice to the humans being rounded up by the borgs. rounded up and melted into a single entity which was housed in the center of the planet, which the overmind had hollowed out centuries ago. “you are the last,” colonel a repeated, as zux was gripped on each arm by an unsmiling borg. they led zux to one of the entrances. zux could see that it was, like most entrances, somewhat overgrown, as the time had long since passed when masses of humans had to be sent down it. for a long time there had only been a few stragglers like zux. for a while they had been organized, but for years now the organization had been unable to function, due to the relentless surveillance of the overmind, and each straggler had wandered the earth alone. an earth almost empty of humans, an earth of rivers and trees and mountains, of alternately blue days and soaking rains, an earth green and blue and beautiful. one of the borgs kicked the brush away from the entrance and zux could hear the music coming up from the center of the earth. the beautiful, beautiful music of the single human mind, freed forever from oppression and conflict and alienation and aggression and injustice. all one. “you are the last, zux,” colonel a intoned yet again. “you can be proud.” the colonel had a limited vocabulary. but was zux really the last? zux never knew. next