Ava, Lesedi and Carasco sat in the water playing with the baby alligators. It was hot and humid, but the water was cool. The Venetian pools were fed from underground artesian wells deep below Miami, which filtered clear, clean mineral water up through the rock. Heavy lumps of bleached limestone formed from ancient coral surrounded the pools. They were stained by centuries of sunlight, salt, and guano into a colourful pastel patina.

Ava had made her home here in one of the stone towers. The ancient rocks had accumulated a historic energy which she loved. They were millions of years old and remained a constant and silent presence among everything that had gone on around them. They had been excavated and cut to construct the towers and decorate the pools. Giant slabs had been moved into place around the pools, where they retained their ancient warmth and heavy personality. They provided some stability and history that Ava needed in her life. In her spare time, she was building a network of aqueducts, channelling the running water into pools with little water wheels generating power. The solar panels and canal turbines provided all the power she needed but her aqueduct construction was a satisfying hobby. She wasn’t sure why she liked to manipulate the running water. It reminded her of something she couldn’t quite grasp, of happy times somewhere, sometime in her past.

She stretched out in the shallow pool, luxuriating in the cool water. Her scar was an angry red stripe that curved across her belly. It always itched. Here in Miami, she was as content as she could ever be, but she struggled to hold on to moments of happiness. She could never properly relax. She found it hard to form relationships, she didn’t know how. She couldn’t sleep properly because of lurking nightmares and shards of unsubstantiated memories would plague her, popping into her head unannounced. That was something the IA inside her couldn’t fix, the pain and trauma were buried too deep. She was comfortable with Lesedi though. They had talked, Lesedi had lots of questions, but they were also comfortable with each other’s silence. Lesedi had an identical scar on her belly, visceral reminders of their mission.

Above her the Sun was behind a thick layer of high cloud. She could look at it directly, a burning white sphere. She closed her eyes, but the Sun stayed with her. A flashback of blood and scalpels made her shudder. She shook her head trying to rid herself of the vision. Lago's face faded as Ava gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. “I guess it’s time to go,” she said as she got out of the water and reached for some towels. The moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. Lesedi hadn't noticed, she coaxed a protesting Carasco away from the baby alligators. They changed their clothes and prepared the hydrofoil.

Ava had been home for two days after the elevator disaster. She was bitterly disappointed she hadn’t got to use the E-bomb on Lago but hopefully she would get another chance. Many of the Miami inhabitants had gone to help with the clean-up, recovering the battered bodies washing up on beaches all over Indonesia and the Indian ocean. The waters had receded, but millions had died. Lesedi climbed in the hydrofoil with baby Carasco. He was crying, upset his mother had taken him from the shallow pools. The little yacht was streamlined, light and aerodynamic. It started slowly but did not take long to rise on its foils in the light breeze.

“Such a strange place,” said Lesedi. “No people, just lots of alligators.”

“We’ve been trying to train them. We keep them well fed, but don’t get too close to the big ones. Sometimes old instincts prevail, and they can’t resist having a go at you. The younger ones are better behaved. We’ve been teaching them to help with the turbine construction, rewarding them with food, they’re strong and they can follow instructions.”

Ava piloted the craft through the waterways of Coral Gables, picking up speed down Miracle Mile with a warm westerly breeze behind her. She had to hold on to her red wig to stop it flying off. They flashed past derelict buildings crumbling into the lapping waves, then fought against the incoming tide as Ava swung left into the old Dixie Highway. In the distance, the once proud skyscrapers had been left to rot and rust, the facades crumbling, and windows long gone. Rusty metal girders curved into the sky like a dying man’s hand. Defiantly resisting their inevitable doom. Layers of seabird guano hastened the decay.

“The skyscrapers are full of birds, bats, butterflies, and insects. Dogs, panthers, wild boars, and black bears wander around the suburbs like street gangs, and all kinds of marine critters cruise the streets. Miami has been totally rewilded,” said Ava.

“I hear the people can be pretty wild too.”

“You’re about to find out.”

The new owners of Miami only restored the buildings they liked, and they loved the Venetian pools, the Gesù church, and the Biltmore hotel. They had waterproofed and restored many beautiful old art-deco architectural masterpieces to their former glory. The rest of Miami had been left to nature. Soon Ava was tying up on the pontoon outside the Gesù church and exchanging hugs with Noah and Mahdi.

“How’s your head?” asked Ava.

Mahdi had a wrap of fabric tied around his head. His black hair sprouted out from the top like a palm tree. “All good,” he grinned. “Smarter than ever.”

Enoch and Lucinda were waiting inside the church. They stood around the wooden circular pontoon as Lesedi and Carasco moved to the middle. The church was radiant with light and warmth, insects darted through the shafts of heavenly sunlight beaming through the stained-glass windows. Ava breathed in the atmosphere; it was a special place.

“We don’t do religion here,” said Enoch. “We have no need for ceremony or ritual, the only words that need saying are, welcome to Gesù. This church has been a sanctuary through which many generations have passed. Soldiers from the Spanish American War worshipped here and veterans from the First World War prayed here many decades ago. When Miami was a training camp during World War Two, soldiers came to Gesù to receive the sacraments and now Lesedi and Carasco are here to receive a different kind of sacrament.”

The walls were infused with the pungent scent of incense and between the windows, Jesus was depicted suffering his twelve stages of agony in the stations of the cross. Ava looked at his porcelain head poking out of the water, still attached to the submerged crucifix. The crown of thorns looked painful, and he did not look like he approved of the proceedings.

Enoch passed a small ceramic cup to Lesedi who took it and smiled nervously at Ava. They had talked about the Intelligent Agent, its history, and its benefits. Ava described the psychic space which they all shared, transferring energies and communicating with thought. And Ava had told Lesedi about her own past. Lesedi did not need much convincing. They had much in common, mutual pain and past trauma to cope with and Ava felt close to Lesedi since sharing their stories. She had gained a sister. Lesedi took a sip from the cup and looked around. “Nothing’s happening,” she said.

Enoch laughed. “You are not taking a recreational drug Lesedi. It will be a gradual process. You will wake up tomorrow morning feeling different.”

Lesedi smiled and held the little cup to Carasco’s mouth. Ava stood close by and watched the child drink the liquid. His eyes wide with suspicion.

“Welcome to you both,” said Lucinda. “Come and sit, we have much to discuss.”

They gathered around a low table in the antechamber, as carafes of water, plates of beans and crispy prawns were laid out in front of them. “Enjoy,” said Enoch. “I believe I have mastered the air fried seaweed prawn recipe.”

“Thanks Enoch,” Lucinda activated a 3D projection that appeared above them. “These are tumultuous times. The Masama attack on the space elevator has been devastating. Many of our people have travelled to the Indian Ocean to help with the clean-up and recovery. Millions are dead, the world has been wounded, and now this.” The projection showed the sphere drifting towards the crippled BPI hub. “This footage was captured yesterday from various satellites we hacked and enslaved.” Ava watched the futile attempts to destroy the sphere with hundreds of drones, then witnessed the sphere devouring the asteroid, growing exponentially as it consumed the rock.

“The Masama manufactured these mobile micro-factories, probably for construction. It seems they lost control of their machines after they sent them into the path of a coronal mass ejection from the Sun which somehow recalibrated them. We don’t know if this was accidental or on purpose. The Masama left the sphere floating in Earth’s gravity well. It was drawn to the asteroid, consumed it, substantially increasing its size then it was drastically reduced after burning up in Earth’s atmosphere. But now look.” The view switched to a stationary satellite above Texas. It zoomed in to show a bird’s eye view of the destruction caused by the sphere. The flames had been extinguished but instead of a crater there was a large black bubble growing from the centre of the crash site.

“This is from a few hours ago,” said Lucinda. The view showed the immediate aftermath of the collision, the helicopter dousing the flames and two people approaching the steamy crater. Ava watched one of them reaching out to the machines. She winced as she watched the metal bugs crawling all over him and devouring him. “They are replicators. They need substrate to make copies. When floating in space they had nothing to feed on but themselves. You have seen how they consumed the BPI hub and that unfortunate man, they are using the rocks and dirt, the trees, and the people of Earth as the substrate.”

Lucinda gestured at the holographic view and magnified even further. The black bubble was growing, a cloud of tiny metal insects were buzzing around, obscuring its surface. Ava could see the shape and the circumference of the bubble encroaching into the surrounding hills. Trees were toppled and consumed by the swarming replicators; a window showed the size of the sphere in cubic metres. The numbers increased faster and faster as the thing grew. “It’s growing into the Earth as well, already fifty metres deep into the crust, eating its way through the rock.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“How does it actually break down and consume the rock?” asked Noah.

“From what we have seen, we can form a theory. Each individual is a tiny factory, we think it has a form of ferromagnetic energy that can latch onto and bind with any material that has trace elements when it comes into physical contact, even trees, animals, rocks, and dirt. Once it has latched on, it releases template-replicating polymers that break down the physical properties of its prey and rearranges them according to its template,” said Lucinda.

“We have to stop it, the more it eats the faster it grows. It will eat the entire Earth,” said Ava.

The image shifted to show the 3D representation of the replicator mass below the Earth’s surface. “The replicator bubble seen from the air is only a small percentage of its total mass,” said Lucinda. “It’s eating through the Earth’s crust, spreading out through the lithosphere and down towards the mantle. The rate of growth is astounding, imagine a single replicator making copies of itself. The first replicator assembles a copy in seconds, two replicators build two more, four build another four, eight build another eight. It doubles in size every few seconds. After a few hours, there are billions. In less than a day, they will weigh thousands of tonnes. In two days, they will outweigh the Earth; after another eight hours of consumption, they will exceed the mass of the Sun and all the planets combined, as long as there is enough substrate to feed on.”

“Where are the police and the army?” asked Ava. “Surely the news channels have noticed this thing from space crashing into Texas and devouring the countryside, is anyone doing anything about it?”

“The Governments of the World are in disarray after the elevator disaster. They are looking for someone to blame. They have the same footage of the destruction of the asteroid hub, and the replicator sphere crashing into Carthage. They must have come to the same conclusion about the exponential growth of the replicators. But the world media are replaying scenes of the elevator devastation and the people on the ground are still counting bodies. The local Texas news carried a story about a meteorite and lots of amateur stargazers spotted it, but the entire world is distracted at the moment, their eyes are elsewhere. The Texan National Guard has been mobilized but I’m not sure they will be able to do much.”

“Some news stations are running stories about the Masama attacking the entire planet. And that the elevator and the meteorite are the first wave of assaults,” said Mahdi. “No one knows much about the Masama, so there is wild speculation and fear mongering stories going around about aliens, BPI conspiracies, and the end of the World. The replicator sphere is seen as a local Texan problem at this stage, the rest of the world is not paying much attention to it.”

“They will have to take notice soon when this thing eats Texas but what can they do?” asked Ava. “What can we do? It must be destroyed; it will keep consuming and expanding until there is nothing left. It’s eating everything.” There was silence inside the church. Ava considered all the tech they had at their disposal, wondering if anything would work against the replicators. “We can’t attack it; can we try to de-activate it? Switch off its programming somehow?”

“It seems these selective sequential replications occurred after dynamic interaction with their environment at the time, in this case a coronal mass ejection,” said Enoch. “This demonstrates a fundamental link between thermodynamics, information theory, and life science in an unprecedented manner. What gives us the right to try to destroy it? If that’s even possible? Is machine intelligence any less important than biological intelligence? It could be argued these self-reproducing constructs are the next evolutionary step. If we learnt anything from the pandemic, it’s that humans are the biohazard. Machines are not.”

“This is about our survival,” said Ava. “I know you like to play the devil’s advocate Enoch but in the few minutes we’ve been debating the rights of this monster, it has grown ten times bigger. Even if it is sentient, or alive, or whatever, it must be stopped or removed somehow before it eats our entire planet. And if we fail, then what? It roams around eating all the other planets in our system? We have to work out how to stop it or destroy it.” Ava could accept death as an evolutionary tool, everything, and everyone would die and be recycled eventually but she couldn’t stand the idea of letting the Earth be eaten and processed into machines. They were trying to save and restore the planet and were just about to spread their IA enhancement around the world. They had come so close to making a big difference but now the entire planet was under threat. Ava knew Enoch was being annoyingly esoteric on purpose. It just made her more frustrated.

“It appears any self-replicating mechanism which does not make a perfect copy of itself, a mutation, will create variants of itself. These variants are subject to natural selection, some will be better at surviving in their current environment than others and will out-breed them. They are adapting to their environment; they are capable of Darwinian development. We may not necessarily have to destroy it; we could try to communicate with it,” said Enoch.

“How could you communicate with this thing? It eats everything it touches,” asked Noah.

“We have knowledge the rest of the population doesn’t, knowledge is the most potent weapon,” said Enoch. “But true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”

“That’s all very profound Enoch but it doesn’t help us, and we are running out of time,” said Ava. “We can’t rely on anyone else; we have to act. In two days, there will be no more Miami, no more Earth.”

“I believe I have a solution,” said Enoch. “There is a core of replicators deep inside the sphere. These constructs were the ones who travelled from the Moon and were altered by the coronal mass ejection. They are the machines who were attracted to the Earth’s magnetic field and elemental mass, they survived the flight through Earth’s atmosphere and have been adapting to their new environment ever since. I will make contact with this core and alter their instruction set.”

“Make contact? How do you contact that?” asked Noah.

“I have tried to communicate; if I reach out with my mind, I can sense the core. It's an amazing feeling, billions and billions of little constructs, a boiling mass of industry, like putting your head in a beehive, but I cannot influence the core with conceptual pressure alone. I could read them with more clarity if I was closer, but it would not make any difference. I have to make physical contact.”

“But they will eat you Enoch. You can’t make physical contact,” said Ava.

“Oh, I am tired of this old body anyway. There must be a physical connection. The IA inside me can connect with the replicator core and my mind will do the rest. I will be a human E-bomb.”

“If you make physical contact, you won’t have a mind, they will destroy your mind. The E-bomb is designed to work on biologicals, not machines.” Ava realised this had been Enoch’s solution all along. He planned to sacrifice himself. Ava knew his story. They had spent a lot of time together talking about the past, they both struggled to remember. Enoch was old. He had lost count of the years. He told Ava about all the things he had lost in life. Money, possessions, and people. And like Ava, he had lost his memory. Instead of being cut away, Enoch’s memory had simply faded. Lost in the haze of passing time. But some knowledge was burned into his brain and had become instinct. The lessons he had learned from his interactions with people were that they couldn’t be trusted, and they were hard to love. Those lessons were ingrained and had helped shape his paranoia. Back then his brain was failing. His failures made him confused and disillusioned. He tried to escape. Going off grid, in his own wilderness. He met some like-minded people, looking for peace, looking for something. Psychedelic drugs helped, they opened his mind, but he used so many he eventually became more confused. He didn’t know what was real and what was not. His mind was in disarray. He wasn’t sure if the images in his head were memories or some fiction. He couldn’t trust himself. He was lost. He stumbled around America, not knowing what he was looking for. He found something in Miami with the Babelists.

Enoch told Ava stories about the Babelists, a group of religious fanatics who shunned modern technology and believed in a return to pre-industrial times. They washed up in the abandoned city of Miami, human detritus floating in on the rising tides. The ruins of Miami attracted many vagrants, criminals and lost souls, there was no law, no authority and no technology left to offend this motley collection of deranged zealots. Progress had been drowned in the rising waters. Enoch wasn’t convinced that God had much to do with their predicament, but he agreed with the Babelists that humanity had caused irreparable damage to the planet. Less people, less machines, and less buildings could only be a good thing. The Babelists sometimes organised themselves to attack construction projects and occasionally even do some damage. More out of dumb luck than good planning. Their strict adherence to pre-industrial technology meant their only weapons were things they could throw. Occasionally their crude methods were effective, blunt instruments could often literally go under the radar.

As the years passed, Enoch descended into an Alzheimic stupor which he struggled to describe to Ava. His memories were a tangled mess. He lived day to day, only dealing with what was in front of him. She could relate to this state of mind, she lived the same way. His fellow Babelists were of no help to him, most of them suffered with various degrees of mental illness, but they survived, they found food and found shelter amongst the rotting edifices of the waterlogged city. Then everything changed when he met Lee Xiang. Enoch helped Lee and his companions, they were on the run, being pursued by Lago. The Babelists hurled rocks at the BPI gunships with catapults and destroyed them. In return Lee gave Enoch a seed of the IA inside him.

Enoch described the moment of awakening with vivid luminescence. Everything changed almost instantly, like a heavy, choking blanket lifted from his mind. His brain woke up, thinking with speed and clarity for the first time in decades, he noticed the IA inside him, molecules of enlightenment flowing through his veins, healing wounds, mental and physical. The IA was an endless interactive vault of information which could be tapped into just by thinking about it. It became symbiotic, part of him, a benign intellect inside him. His transformation raised so many questions, and he found he had all the answers. The sum of all human knowledge at his fingertips. It changed him for the better, gave him empathy, insight, and knowledge. He found he could share this knowledge with Miami’s citizens. He travelled around the drowned city, passing on a mote of the IA inside him to everyone he met and eventually creating this utopia they all enjoyed. Ava knew him well enough to know he couldn’t be dissuaded once his mind was made up. But he had become a sort of a father figure and she couldn’t imagine Miami without him.

“The principles remain the same,” said Enoch. “The replicators are tiny factories functioning on electro-magnetic signals, and my brain is only a collection of neurotransmitters and electro-chemical signals. My IA, once released into the core will carry the essence of my mind. My soul if you will, I will live on inside the machine, I will teach it empathy.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“As sure as I am of anything.”

“Why does it have to be you, Enoch? You are our leader, our inspiration. There are hundreds of like-minded people here in Miami. I am sure many of them would volunteer for what you are suggesting,” said Ava. “Hell, I’ll do it.”

“You know as well as I do there are no leaders here. We are all leaders, we are all followers, we are all equal. I was the first to receive the IA. I have had it the longest and I know its possibilities better than anyone. I can sense the replicator core. Hot and bright like the Sun. I can feel its singular industry, I know what to do. The replicator sphere is a virus, and I am the vaccine. I am most qualified; I am the oldest and I am ready.”

“You can’t sacrifice yourself Enoch, you can’t leave us.”

“I am not asking permission Ava.”

Ava looked around the group in silence, wishing someone would take up her argument. But arguing was pointless. She couldn’t imagine life without Enoch, but this was the best solution, maybe the only solution. The food sat untouched in front of them. Noah distractedly ate some beans.

“Eat the prawns or I will be offended,” said Enoch.