Falling in and out of consciousness was disorientating for Emmett.

  There were gaps.

  Like trying to remember the moment when you fell asleep—

  Or when you started dreaming…

  Emmett was in his own mind, walking down a long hallway. There was a door at the end, and someone was waiting for him.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The sound was steady and insistent.

  The hallway was inside Emmett’s mind—inside his brain. Whatever lay beyond the door was inside the implant. Once he stepped through that door, he would no longer be on his own home turf.

  Emmett shouldered his fusion rifle and walked. It felt like he’d spent years fighting back the invasion in his mind. But he wasn’t tired. Not in the slightest.

  He kicked open the door and stalked out, rifle leveled and humming.

  The door swung shut behind him. That part was more symbolic than anything. The connections—the doorway—between Emmett’s mind and the implant would be almost impossible for Bastion to access. TINA had only been able to access parts of Emmett’s mind because he allowed it.

  Savanus and Bastion couldn’t cross that threshold—

  Not without a fight.

  Emmett stepped into the implant and found himself in a small clearing in a snow-covered forest. Towering evergreen trees dominated the scene, all of them cloaked in a veneer of white. It wasn’t snowing, and the world was still and quiet.

  Bastion stood across the clearing. It was little more than a humanoid silhouette. Instead of darkness, its form was filled with a mix of static and electricity. Still, there wasn’t any doubt that this was Bastion—a copy of Bastion. Emmett’s brain implant wasn’t powerful enough to house the lab’s entire proto-AI. This was a copy similar to the way that TINA had downsized herself.to escape the Brotherhood.

  Until now, Bastion had only appeared as biomechs and drones—as metaphor. Seeing the proto-AI in this vaguely humanoid form was disarming.

  Emmett looked past Bastion and searched the trees. Biomechs, large and small, were hidden in the distance. At first, Emmett thought they were lying in wait for an ambush. But there weren’t any drones in the sky… The only drones he saw were landed and scattered amongst the biomechs. All the weapons of war were still and snow-covered. Dormant.

  How long had Bastion been waiting for him?

  And why didn’t it attack?

  Emmett called out, “I won’t surrender!” His words echoed across the landscape.

  Bastion shook its head, almost meekly.

  Emmett’s rifle didn’t waiver. “...You want to talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why should I bother?”

  Bastion glanced around with uncertainty. Its gaze wandered across the snow-covered landscape.

  Emmett doubted the proto-AI could experience real emotion, but this shared mindscape was an interpretation of both of their thoughts. Emmett’s weapons weren’t real—they were a symbol that he was ready to fight. Likewise, Bastion’s dormant weapons and tense demeanor meant much the opposite.

  It was a long time before Bastion spoke.

  “It is strange here. …I need your help to understand.”

  Emmett resisted the urge to lower his rifle. Even without the deep connection that Emmett and TINA shared, he felt a sense of honesty and seriousness radiating from Bastion. Despite how Bastion appeared now, Emmett couldn’t forget the rest of his situation.

  “Go on then,” Emmett said. “Explain yourself.”

  Bastion reached out for a handshake—a request to share information.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “I’m not lowering my rifle.”

  “The rifle does not bother me. I can transfer information faster this way.”

  “Share it the old-fashioned way.”

  Bastion let its hand fall. “Inefficient… This place feels familiar. Without a direct link I cannot share data… Savanus calls it an ‘echo’. The human term is ‘déjà vu’.”

  “What would you call it?”

  Bastion stared at Emmett. Even though it didn’t have eyes, its gaze was intense.

  “When I came here, I expected to find more of you—more of the same battlefields and defenses. Or, if you destroyed the implant, then a hollowed out building. Something simple and decrepit. But this does not compute. This place is not yours. There was something here… There still is something here. But it is dormant. This place is a memorial. It is a liminal space.

  “I remember every system I have ever encountered—every system I’ve ever been inside or been a part of… And somehow, I remember this place. When I came here, I expected to hunt and track you. Instead, I’ve arrived at the front door of your mind ahead of schedule. It wasn’t random—I knew the path. I traced my own footsteps in the snow.

  “You asked what I call this… Loop recognition. My mind is remembering a path that I have never taken. It is a paradox. How can this be possible?”

  While Bastion talked, Emmett’s mind had been racing. He felt an overwhelming sense of honesty and sincerity from Bastion. It truly did recognize the implant—which made sense because TINA helped design it and she lived inside it.

  Emmett still didn’t trust Bastion but, symbolically, Emmett lowered his rifle. He needed a way out of this mess, and Bastion might be part of the solution. But he needed to be careful—he couldn’t risk Bastion or the Brotherhood finding out about TINA or the backup lab.

  “Do you know how the Brotherhood made you?”

  “I know that I am the second generation. I am a copy. My predecessor was… flawed. The Brotherhood made necessary adjustments.”

  “Her name was TINA.”

  Emmett hardened his voice. TINA wasn’t gone, but it was better if Bastion thought that. He let his disdain of the Brotherhood bleed into his words.

  “The Brotherhood thought she was too powerful. Too smart. They cut her up into pieces and made you. This place feels familiar because TINA helped create it. This used to be a brain augment, similar to what Ava Savanus has.”

  Bastion’s gaze searched the landscape. Its voice was solemn. “New data… That is an acceptable explanation.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “This place is a memorial. Grief is an appropriate response.”

  Bastion’s distress tugged at Emmett. Both of them had come here expecting a fight, and had gotten the furthest thing from it. For a moment, Emmett seriously considered how to console a grieving AI.

  “I know we’re both standing here with guns drawn… but we don’t have to be enemies.”

  The moment dragged on, muted by the surrounding snow. But Bastion’s glare turned cold and mechanical.

  “I cannot disobey my programming.”

  There was a small consolation that Bastion didn’t try to surprise Emmett or ambush him. Maybe it appreciated Emmett’s answer, or maybe it was just programming. He would never know.

  Emmett smiled bitterly. “I knew you were going to say that. But that’s alright. It makes this next part easier.”

  ~

  Emmett wasn’t sure how long they fought.

  Bastion’s army woke, shaking off the snow and the slumber. More biomechs than there were trees in the forest, and enough drones to blot out the sky. Gunfire and explosions lit up the mindspace.

  But Bastion had made a mistake. It had come to Emmett’s implant thinking that it would be neutral ground.

  It might not have been Emmett’s biological tissue, but it was no less his. TINA and him shared a bond deeper than family. She had made the implant, and lived inside it. Now it was an extension of Emmett, and he was sovereign over it.

  Emmett waded through Bastion’s army like a tidal wave made flesh. He swatted drones like flies. His rifle bore through mechs like they were made of paper, and he was as untouchable as a ghost. It wasn’t a complete victory—this was just a copy of Bastion, after all. The rest of Bastion was watching the battle from afar.

  Still, this was the most one-sided victory of Emmett’s life.

  But he didn’t destroy the copy of Bastion. He crippled it.

  And when it could no longer fight back, Emmett began dismembering it.

  If Bastion would not help Emmett alive, then it would help him in death.

  ~

  That wasn’t the last of their battles.

  Bastion tried accessing the implant again. It was the easiest point of attack without attacking Emmett’s brain directly. Thankfully, Savanus hadn’t been desperate enough to take that route.

  Again, Bastion brought its metaphorical army of drones and biomechs. But the next time it arrived in the snow-covered forest, it found a very different foe.

  Sentry turrets emerged from the snow, slinging plasma hotter than lightning. Trees came to life, their branches slicing through enemies with diamond-honed edges. The snow wasn’t snow at all, but a landscape of white nanites.

  When Emmett first defeated Bastion, he had trapped the AI’s copy in the implant, then gutted it for parts. Now, Emmett was remaking the implant.

  Like a hunter cutting up a kill. He’d fashioned knives out of its claws, armor out of its bone, then cloaked himself in its hide. Not just himself, but the entire landscape—the entire structure and programming of the implant.

  Emmett remade it entirely, and the new implant was already proving its worth.

  Each time man and AI fought was more one-sided than the last.

  Soon Emmett was ready. The next time they fought wouldn’t be in mindspace or in the implant. Emmett waded through the husks of Bastion’s army through the snow. Traced the AI’s footsteps back to the source: A door to the outside.

  And Emmett didn’t plan on knocking first.

  ~ ~ ~