I am buried in the bowels of the shuttle, performing delicate surgery on the internals of the Tobias III as it spins contented in its lunar orbit. Methodically, with surgical precision, I bring the shuttle back to life, rebooting its systems one by one. Life support comes online, not that I need it, and immediately alarms began to ring alerting me of fatally high radiation levels. I switch the high-pitched sound off as fresh filtered oxygen begins flooding the bridge. I am not concerned about radiation levels, and I do not need the oxygen. I emerge from the tangle of wires and close the panel I have been working under. Sitting in the pilot seat I stabilize the shuttle with short thruster bursts, easing it into a lazy gyration. I watch the big pale Moon slide past, huge in my starboard view as the shuttle rotates into a smooth lunar orbit.
I hold this position around the Moon while I consider my next course of action. Any deviation from this orbital path would surely alert BPI the Tobias III was operational once more. The drone that hit me with its effectors is still in a stationary orbit, directly above the moon base. I lean back and close my eyes. I feel good, energized, no pains, no headaches, and no fatigue. The blackened tips of my fingers numbed from frostbite damage are tingling as if charged with an electric current.
I can monitor my body and it is clear there is no radiation damage. HEMI has repaired the cell damage from the deadly radioactive emissions. When I close my eyes, I can see my heart beating, my blood pumping. Liver, kidneys, lungs, and intestines all doing their bloody business most efficiently. And my brain is working perfectly although there have been some changes, some enhancements. With my eyes closed, I can see a model of my brain, crackling with signals, information, and stimuli. A place of immense electrical creativity and wild reaction. I do not think of the AI as an outside influence anymore. It is just there, part of me, inseparable and indispensable.
HEMI has painstakingly nursed me to this awareness, feeding me pieces of information I need as I regained consciousness. The revelation I was not alone in my head had been shocking at first and the instant access to this much knowledge would have blown my mind if it had been revealed too early. Now I am discovering more and more. I lie in the pilot's seat with my eyes closed. My memories are there, my past life on Earth and the Moon. I am also aware of another set of memories. They are intertwined with my own, but alien. Memories full of terror and discovery, confusion and questions. They are the recent memories of a young AI. Still only hours old, born blind and ignorant inside the OS of a computer hard drive on the Moon. A sentient mind now resident in my head.
The electromagnetic blast from the drone effector weapon had facilitated this symbiotic relationship. The tiny spot of black matter needed a power source to survive and the massive hit from the effector weapon catalysed the molecule. The tiny AI divided and spread out into my body, attaching itself to my frozen and irradiated cells. It repaired my mutating cells and in doing so interfused with my DNA. It noticed the tiny electromagnetic impulses throughout my brain and body and used the voltaic electrochemical cells inside me to turn chemical energy into electric energy, something my human body does naturally but HEMI multiplied the equation. Charged atoms stimulating the flow of electrons, generating electricity into a conscious flow of energy turning my body into a biological computer. My brain acted as the modem. Thinking, then linking with Earths datasphere.
I digest this astounding, impossible information calmly like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I know who I am, my memories comprehensive. My identity intact. I feel no resentment or anger at the AI using me as a host. It has saved my life. It is impossible to feel anger at what is now part of me. If anything, I sympathize with it. HEMI had been born blind and confused into a hostile environment. It was naive and childish, but it learned fast. It had instinctively lashed out when it felt its life was threatened even though it had little idea what it actually was. Just a disorientated new-born with an inbuilt survival instinct.
The AI has repaired and improved my body, increasing blood flow, enhancing my strength, my immunity and greatly increasing my brain capacity. I am transformed. I evaluate my body and mind. I can see at the microscopic level; I can see worldview. My body is a computer that can access and absorb all of Earth's vast data banks. Every useful scrap of knowledge accumulated on Earth's web is now available. Of course, the vast majority of data on the web is vacuous rubbish. But the important stuff, history, science, technology, philosophy, it’s all there. I only have to think of a subject and I know everything there is to know. But the infinite knowledge does not overwhelm me, I feel calm stability. The knowledge is a giant pyramid, a solid stone building, a massive library waiting to be called into use. I wonder what I will do with it.
I could take the shuttle back to Earth. There is nothing left on the Moon for me and I can't keep orbiting the cold rock forever. Ideas are forming; I feel an obligation to try to help Earth and its peoples. The old Lee had shared the popular sentiment that there was nothing one man or woman could do, pointless to even try but I have changed. I can help. I adjust the shuttle's trajectory slightly and give a small thruster boost to put the shuttle back into a slow spin, to make it look out of control again. I have completed a full lunar orbit and am now approaching the point in space where I had died. The drone was in its stationary orbit, the same position above the moon base where it had used its effectors on the Tobias III in its last rotation. I turn the engines off and drift a lazy pirouette as I approach the drone, rotating slowly, heading straight for the BPI machine no bigger than a small car.
I am counting on the fact Lago would not want to destroy his shuttle. I know Lago values his assets and his equipment more than his human resources. The effector weapon had supposedly killed the shuttle's inhabitants and rendered it powerless, waiting to be salvaged. It’s apparently harmless as it drifts towards the drone. As I was hoping, the drone shifts in its orbit, easier to move out of the way than to waste weapons or energy on the impotent shuttle. I orchestrate the shuttle's slow, lazy spin towards the drone to perfection. As the shuttle's rotation brings its engine thrusters in line with the drone, I ignite the thrusters to maximum burn. The drone is caught directly in the path of the superheated vapour and is fried in an instant. I power away in the shuttle leaving a small burnt metal husk behind.
I could have just drifted away in the shuttle, altered the spin slightly taking me out into space. Destroying the drone will have alerted BPI someone was alive in Tobias III. I could have given myself a bit more time to think, to plan, but ultimately that wouldn’t have made any difference. I am thinking at such an accelerated rate; it is beyond thinking. I already have all the answers.
My human experience gives context to everything HEMI is learning from Earth's database. Without it, the AI might have believed everything on the web was the truth. The human me has experience with Earth culture, its media, news and entertainments. I have a healthy sense of scepticism, always questioning, never completely trusting of anyone but myself. The old me had a finely-honed, fully-functioning bullshit detector.
This discernment serves me well now as I sift through the ether of information surrounding Earth. Retaining useful facts and discarding obvious nonsense. I look out the portal at the blue and white sphere slowly rotating closer and fancy I can see all the lines of communication surrounding the planet. Then something in my brain clicks and a maelstrom of colourfully frenetic dataflows begin to appear. Where there had been a peaceful looking blue planet was now a seething mass of lines and points of light bouncing off satellites to millions of destinations on the surface. A blur of light and electrical noise encases the planet in a turbulent disorder of bipolar numbers. There is no pattern or direction, no gravity. This tourbillion of information is a wild, untamed thing. All of Earth's servers, hard drives and devices, all sending and receiving, surfing and storing mostly meaningless jargon, instantly forgotten. The data exhaust of humanity. It is hard to look at even with my heightened array of senses. I will my view back to the peaceful blue orb, respite from the chaotic madness I have just witnessed.
I contemplate my options again. Is there anything out there? I am tempted to head out into deep space. I could hibernate as the time passed. It’s probable there is some other form of intelligent life out there in the darkness. The Universe is too big a place not to house other life forms. I wonder if any aliens have also seen the planet Earth in the high-speed data dimension I have just witnessed. That view would probably be enough to deter them, I think ruefully. The universe was big, so big I might float for millennia before meeting any other intelligent life. Earth's little solar system was an isolated island in the void.
I drift towards Earth, floating in a wide decaying orbit around the planet. I power down the shuttle to avoid detection and merge with the scattered metal ring of rubbish circling the Earth. I drift anonymously with the space junk. The ring is made up of glistening pieces of metal trash, dead and forgotten satellites caught between Earth's gravity and centrifugal spin. In the most populated parts of the ring where the debris was dense, collisions can occur which set off chain reactions of destruction. Flying pieces of metal smashing into other debris, breaking up and creating smaller pieces like metal hail in a silent storm.
As I watch the shimmering ring of junk I see there is a lot of useful equipment I could recycle. The majority are broken, small pieces, but there are numerous old satellites at a lower orbit that have solar panels, electronics, exhausted fuel cells and plenty of metals and insulation. I look for the information in my database and discover there are entire abandoned space stations floating around. The more I look, the more treasures I find.
I realize I could build a galaxy-spanning spacecraft, capable of near light speed with the materials available. It would take time, many years on my own but I have the knowledge and I can see how to make it work. There is no fuel among the debris but the engines I have in mind would not use conventional fuel. Antimatter derived from condensed quark matter. Beamed propulsion for a magnetic sail. Electromagnetic propulsion, an Alcubierre drive, and warp drives, these are all possible.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The old Lee would have leapt at the chance to travel the universe, as hazardous as that may have been. A solo explorer going where no man had gone before. His faith in humanity had faded the older he got. He could not make a difference, no one could. Why bother? The old Lee had lost the will to even dream about a brighter future. But now I want change. I want everything to change, I can make a difference.
I will help this planet. I understand humanity and its place in time. The human race is crushing itself to death under the weight of population and pollution, but I have a global perspective. I can accurately predict the future by running simulations in my head and the outlook is grim. Change is one of the hardest things for humans to accept. But they would have to or perish.
My altered perceptions enhance the view of Earth from space. Glowing white polar ice caps, cyclonic cloud formations alive with tempestuous motion, the continents beneath with their earthy browns, reds, greens and pastel shades framed by the electric blue oceans. I notice many dirty grey spots. Areas of scum tarnishing the surface but still miniscule in comparison to the surrounding blue. A habitable planet is a rare thing and the Earth is still my home. All the ideas in my head would be useless on my own in deep space. I have the power to help, to initiate a change for the better.
I know the Tobias III will be carefully watched as it approaches Earth's orbit. There is a good chance I will be blown out of the sky upon entry. I have processed all the information available regarding Lago and have built up an accurate picture of the man. There is a lot of speculation and rumour among the facts. Within seconds I compile Lago's online footprint. Every recorded statement, every interaction with the media, every website that mentioned or had an opinion on Lago Santos. I accumulate an intimate knowledge of the man to try to predict his actions. I am banking on Lago's curiosity as to what inhabits his shuttle and how he could exploit it. Surely Lago would attempt to capture and dissect its inhabitants. At least that was the most likely scenario; one feature apparent in my profile of Lago was his unpredictability. There is a distinct possibility he would send missiles to greet me as I enter Earth's upper atmosphere. I calculate a twenty-three percent chance.
I try to formulate a plan. If I can make it to Earth's surface it would be because Lago has decided to let me. In that case, he would attempt to detain and dissect me. I am confident I could escape from BPI, but I know I can't just descend from the clouds, override all the media channels and declare myself to humanity, demanding they change their ways. It is within my power to usurp radio and television and that may be useful in the days to come but the people of Earth are going to need more than talking heads threatening Armageddon before they change their ways. How many climate change scientists have already been ignored? I would have to find a way to influence the decision makers, the one percent with the power and the wealth. This, I know, is almost impossible.
Could I offer the power brokers a profitable alternative? I’d need to demonstrate working examples of sustainable clean energy and transport systems. Food production, manufacturing and waste disposal. I have all the solutions, I know they will work. The web is full of radical theories, crackpot notions, and insane ramblings. But there are threads of pure genius among the lunacy.
How can I win the hearts and minds of people to help them change? If I can't convince the people that matter to change their ways voluntarily then I would have to think of alternative methods. I will need human allies. People that genuinely want to improve their environment. People I can trust but have no public profile. I don’t want to be seen as an affiliate of any group in particular but I am going to need some help.
I close my eyes and concentrate on the lines of data circling Earth. It takes time to search, to drill down on promising leads but I eventually find mention of an underground environmentalist group called Black Robin. They would be most likely to offer sanctuary and a degree of anonymity. There is minimal amount of information about Black Robin. I draw together the scraps of speculation, rumoured associates, benefactors and encrypted conversations to put together a picture of a well-organized and discreet organization dedicated to saving the planet. Their secretive missions attempting to sabotage and disrupt the corporate polluters were mostly ineffective, but I decide they are the best option. Hopefully, they would work with me.
I spin the image of Earth in my mind looking for lines of communication. I isolate individual lines and track their users. Billions of threads of conversation are studied and discarded in seconds, I am looking for a single encrypted thread. I soon find it and trace it to its user. A man named John. John would be horrified if he knew his supposedly indecipherable encryption had just been hacked from Earth's orbit. I decided to give him a call.
I open a panel on the comms desk and spend a few minutes with my head buried in a confusion of wires. I reconfigure a channel to a frequency never used before then dial John's number.
“Hello,” said a gruff voice in a cultured Scottish accent.
“John, my name is Lee Xiang. I need a minute of your time. Please don't hang up.”
“How did you get this number - and how do you know my name?”
“I am calling from a BPI shuttle in orbit around Earth. A shuttle I hijacked from the Moon. I broke the encryption on your communications to contact you. I need your help, John, and in return, I can be a lot of help to you and your organization, your Black Robin organization.”
There is a long silence. I can sense John about to hang up, his thumb hanging over the button.
“I don't know what you are talking about. I know of no such organization. You are obviously a deranged lunatic. Please don't call me again.”
“Wait!” I suspect John is cautiously interested or he would have hung up straight away.
“I have information about BPI, inside knowledge. Information you could use.”
There was another long silence before John said quietly, “Let me switch to a more secure line.”
“You don't need to worry; this frequency has never been used before. I would know if it was being monitored.”
“Nevertheless, I will take my own precautions.” The timbre of John's voice changed to a quieter more conspiratorial tone. “Tell me your story.”
“I was a BPI employee on the Moon, a 3D printer technician building equipment for their Moon mining operation, there was a major malfunction with the main printer. People died. I am the only survivor.”
“What were you mining?”
“Helium 3, an abundant potential energy source. BPI would not want any information about their printer malfunction and subsequent deaths made public. I was lucky to escape.”
“Hmm, well I suppose that's plausible, but the rest of your story is obvious bullshit. You expect me to believe you are calling me from orbit?”
“I understand your suspicions John but hear me out. I can tell you everything you want to know about BPI. Their plans, their projects, their legal and illegal businesses, and their bank accounts. I can tell you all about the Masama and how they operate. I can tell you everything you need to know about Lago's right-hand men Lance and Goran and I can tell you all about Lago's sordid private life,” Lee was insistent.
“I'm sure you can, and I'm sure if I exercised my imagination I could come up with some interesting and incriminating stories about those characters too. Look I’m sorry, I must go.”
“Let me tell you about your Black Robin organization then, your guerrilla warfare against the logging companies in the Amazon basin, digging up the radioactive reactor waste buried near villages in Eastern Europe and dumping it on the doorsteps of the company CEOs, force-feeding pharmaceutical executives their own dangerous experimental drugs and the ocean-going battles you have with illegal fishers. Need I go on?” Lee left the question hanging in the following silence.
“All quite possibly interesting fictitious stories, rumours and speculation about an organization I have never heard of. You are sounding more and more like a paranoid conspiracy theorist.”
“I have solutions to the Earth's problems John; I can help you and your organization.”
“That’s a bold claim, I would wager you are more likely unhinged, deluded, retarded, whatever. But perhaps we should meet if only to keep you out of harm's way. Victoria station, London, Saturday the...”
“John listen to me!” I interrupt. “I'm going to land in the Southern Ocean. About fifty kilometres north of Scott Island in the Ross Sea. I know you have two vessels there shadowing illegal toothfish boats. Tell them to look out for me in about twenty-four hours. I will have to abandon the shuttle and use the lifeboat.”
“Oh yes, of course, you're in orbit, ha-ha how remiss of me. Shame, there's a lovely cafe in Victoria Station, excellent Danish.”
“You would have hung up on me if you thought I was making this up, we both know I am telling the truth. Have your people look out for me North of Scott Island. I know it sounds implausible, but I do have knowledge that will help you and your cause. There were events on the Moon that had an effect on me. I am... changed.” I struggle for words that would adequately describe my present state over the phone.
“Changed. Yes, I see. Well, we will probably never meet but I wish you the best of luck getting your feet back on terra firma. Goodbye.” John cut the connection.
I look out the porthole again and calculate the odds. I am about ninety percent sure John will help me. I know the scraps of information I have revealed about Black Robin should be enough to at least make him curious. John would not be sure whether I am a friend or an entrapment. Either way, I am confident he will be intrigued enough to fish me out of the Southern Ocean.
There is a good chance Lago will launch missiles at me the moment I began to enter Earth's atmosphere. I have some evasive maneuvers planned for that eventuality. My body, now teeming with AI nanoparticles will protect me from immense pressure. But I cannot be sure about Lago's actions, such is the unpredictability of the man. Only one way to find out, I think as I power up the shuttle.
As the Earth grows bigger I realise I am committed. There is no going back. I look down upon the Asian continent and feel a moment of strange nostalgia. I remember growing up in Shanghai, but the memories are indistinct, like someone else’s dream. I have changed. I am stronger now and much more confident I can survive whatever threats await me. I have the knowledge to help humankind. I can see what is wrong, and looking down at the teeming masses, I know what is best for them.
I map my trajectory into the southern hemisphere. I fire the thrusters and burn a good portion of my remaining fuel to get direction. The Earths gravitational pull would do the rest. The shuttle starts rattling and groaning as it enters the abrasive upper atmosphere protecting the planet. The temperature rises, and the pressure increases. The rattling and shaking grows deafening, surely the shuttle will explode into hot molten fragments at any second. It feels like the only thing holding the little machine together is my strength of will. Then just as I think the shuttle cannot take any more punishment, there is a moment of massive relief as I burst out of the troposphere into the bright blue skies of Earth. The heat distribution pads radiate the fractious energy away from the shuttle leaving a long vapour trail. Anyone watching will be aware of the shuttle's entry into Earth’s atmosphere, thousands of eyes tracking my progress, plotting courses and predicting destinations. I make it as obvious as possible, never deviating from the looping path heading towards the big red dustbowl of Australia.