Modified Horizon Read online

  Modified Horizon

  By

  Ran Vant

  Copyright © 2020 Ran Vant

  All rights reserved.

  Modified Horizon

  A Shear Plane Book

  This is fiction. The characters, names, events, places, and other elements of the novel are fictitious or used fictitiously.

  Book One

  Version: 20200607

  ISBN: 978-1-952977-00-8

  Copyright 2020 Ran Vant

  All rights reserved

  Contents

  0. Light and Shadow

  Prologue

  1. Lightbringer

  2. Father and Daughter

  3. Download

  4. The Rebel

  5. Perfection

  6. Fanatics

  7. Tag

  8. Understanding

  9. Found Treasure

  10. Guests on High

  11. Salvation in a Bottle

  12. Knots

  13. Red-Faced Robots

  14. Shadow of the Past

  15. Odin Rules

  16. No Closer to Home?

  17. Congratulations

  18. Hanging in the Balance

  19. Jack

  20. Bumpy Ride

  21. Robos

  22. Reaching Towards the Sky

  23. The Dragonfly

  24. Circle of Light

  25. Pulverized

  26. The Green Light

  27. Time

  28. Flora

  29. What's New?

  30. Gathering in Shadow

  31. Gray Refuge

  32. One More Chance

  33. Down the Hatch

  34. Plans

  35. Interception

  36. The Grab

  37. A New Day

  38. Held Down

  39. The Odds

  40. Awakening

  41. Mortar and Pestle

  42. In Red We Trust

  43. Puzzles

  44. Machine Watching

  45. Play Along

  46. Thoughts

  47. Some Assembly Required

  48. Clues and Concealment

  49. The Network

  50. Triple Redundancy

  51. Fading Beauty

  52. Survival

  53. Blue Books

  54. What Then?

  55. Priorities

  56. Answers

  57. Through the Tunnels

  58. For Every Season

  59. Action and Reaction

  60. A Mustache and a Drink

  61. Unrestrained

  62. Avoiding the Claudius Effect

  63. All the Way

  64. No More Death

  65. Learning

  66. Intelligence

  67. Reviewing Progress

  68. Always

  69. The Event Nears

  70. No Holds Barred

  71. Saints and Sinners

  72. It's There

  73. Binary Disturbance

  74. Forever Promises

  75. The Vault

  76. Regrets

  77. Disruption

  78. As Predicted

  79. Dangerous Games

  80. Signs of...

  81. New Connections

  82. Remote

  83. Where's Damien?

  84. Achievement

  85. Critical

  86. Final Inspection

  87. Minds Alive

  88. Compartmentalization Countdown

  89. The Bell Rang

  90. Release

  91. Freedom Waits

  92. Race Against Time

  93. Cleansing

  94. The First Breath Outside

  95. Sky Breaker

  96. Scramble

  97. Re-Emergence

  98. Silent Skies

  99. Breathing Again

  100. Garden Banishment

  101. The Study Subject

  102. Battle Sky

  103. Visions

  104. Dead End Corridors

  105. Broken Silence

  106. A Visit

  107. Warning Signs

  108. Walls and Doorways

  109. Last Run

  110. One Left

  111. Slippery Fish

  112. Rise and Fall

  113. Window of Opportunity

  114. Contention

  Epilogue

  0.

  Light and Shadow

  A single shaft of light cut down through the dusty workshop air, creating a world of shadow. The shadow was silent. It had been quiet for a long time. But soon the silence would be broken.

  A hint of voices emerged out of the stillness. Laughter grew louder in the distance.

  “Where on earth are you taking us, Es?”

  “Just a few steps farther.”

  “This better be good, dragging us all the way out here.”

  “Oh, it will be. Trust me.”

  A latch on a solid steel door lifted. The voices became loud and clear.

  “I do have classes tomorrow. I can't be out all night.”

  “Relax, William. We all do.”

  “Yeah, but I have to-”

  Jamie cut William off as she got her first glimpse into the secret workshop. “What is this place?”

  The four university students walked into the dark fabrication shop.

  “It's kinda creepy in here, Es.”

  Es walked over to a panel on the wall, and did what she had become used to doing: she threw the light switch, illuminating the center of the room and the sleek winged machine that waited there. But she wasn’t looking at the winged machine; she was watching her friends to see their reactions.

  William, Jamie, and Felix stood for a moment stunned, taking it in. Felix stood with his mouth agape. Es watched them with pride. This was just the beginning. Wait until they heard about the rest. She had been patient, she had kept the secrets, she had worked hard. The anticipation had been like buying the perfect gift months in advance of that special day when it would be given. Now came the joy of revelation. Finally she could begin to tell them about it, about what they could accomplish together. And she could also tell them that they would not need to do it alone.

  Jamie jumped up and down. “I can't believe it! Look at that, Es! It's amazing!” Jamie had read the old books, so she knew exactly what she was looking at. But this was the first time she had ever seen a real life exemplar.

  “What is it?” William asked, the only non-engineer of the group.

  “A sled, you moron!” Jamie ran over to it.

  “Pardon me, Miss Know-It-All. I've never seen one before,” William said. “How was I supposed to know?” Why should he know about banned technology? Why should anyone?

  “Nobody around here has seen one before. That's the point. Nobody and nothing has been allowed to fly for ages,” Felix said.

  “It probably doesn't even work,” William commented.

  “Oh, it will fly, no doubt about that. This baby is capable of climbing up to the heavens. And she packs a punch, too,” Es said. She should know; she helped build it. The models, the testing, proved it. No doubt about it: it would fly.

  “How'd you do it?” Jamie said, already trying to crawl into the cockpit to get a good look at the controls.

  “That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” Es said. “The gens have been calling the shots for far too long. I mean, who do they think they are? I met some people, some people who don't just talk about bringing down those genetically modified freaks. These people are actually working on how to do it. The gens seem to think that they are becoming gods, if not gods already. We aim to show them that they still can die just like the rest of us.”

  William scoffed. He may not have studied old flying machine engineering books, but
William had read a lot of other things. And he knew that what he was hearing was dangerous. “You know how many people have thought that way before, Es? You see them around? No? You don't see them around because they are gone, because they are dead. People who talk like you are talking don't last long. People who build planes and rockets and sleds die. That's the way it is. Whether the gens are gods or not doesn't matter. Nobody else is around who thinks the way Es is talking, cause the gens are good at killing them.”

  “Dude, Billy-boy, relax for once in your life!” Jamie’s muffled voice came from the cockpit.

  “No, we are around, William,” Es corrected him in a gentler tone than Jamie had. “You just don't have the eyes to see us, William. We’re here. We're growing stronger every day. There's more of us than you think. But we need more good people. People with an education in the relevant fields. People like you.”

  Jamie scrambled out from the cockpit. Was she seriously being recruited? By Es? Jamie needed to hear this as clearly as possible. This was too awesome.

  William was not so enthusiastic. “Are you kidding me? You're crazy, Es! You can't bring down the gens. You should be reading fewer engineering books and more history books. You think a couple little flying sleds with guns are going to tilt the scales of power against the gens one little bit?” You didn’t need to be an engineer to see that a sled was no match for a gen army.

  “Sleds alone? Of course not,” Es said.

  “What else, then?” William asked. It would take a miracle weapon to even begin to dent the gens. And how many people had tried even so-called miracle weapons and failed? So what did Es think she had up her sleeve?

  “Don't be ridiculous, Billy,” Jamie admonished. “You think you get to know all the secrets up front? You just find out one of your best friends is secretly working with the Organization and now you expect her to spill the beans on everything? Come on! But use your imagination. If Es here can build this with a little help, without us even knowing, think what a whole bunch of us could do. The sky’s the limit.”

  “I've learned how to build sleds and more. You can be trained for-”

  Es stopped as she heard two distinct bumps on the roof directly above the aero sled.

  The others looked up.

  The ceiling exploded downward and a shower of glass and metal rained down. A black winged figured dropped through the hole in the ceiling, landing heavily on the sled, causing the flying machine to buckle under the force of the figure's impact.

  The black figure's wings spread wide. “For the crime of developing the forbidden technology of flight, you are sentenced to death.” The figure raised its gauntleted fist: Es fell to the ground, lifeless.

  Then the armored creature pointed its gauntleted fists straight down at the aerial combat sled beneath its feet and melted it into slag and smoldering plastics. The black figure rode the melting sled to the floor.

  It is said that creatures, when confronted with danger, have two natural responses: fight or flight. But the dark figure knew from experience that there was a third natural reaction, for he had seen it time and time again among the primitive humans. After the one named Es fell, the others did not fight or flee. They froze, paralyzed with fear, unable to act or speak. Jamie whimpered, on the verge of collapsing into a heap of uncontrolled emotion. William shook with fear. Felix stood with eyes wide, watching. The winged creature knew that the cowering humans before him who were still alive had no special knowledge, had not developed or possessed forbidden technology, and would serve a more useful purpose alive than dead. They would serve as witnesses to what happened to those that tried to defy the Ancients.

  “Remember,” the dark winged figure said as it prepared to leave: “The sky belongs to us.”

  Prologue

  There is always change. Yet some remain the same, only different.

  I have changed much since I took my first breath upon the earth. Still, there is a part of me that I feel has been the same since the beginning. I feel that I have been continuous, but no doubt many would not recognize me now. Nor would many who know me now have recognized me then. My ideas, my appearance, my desires, my dreams – all have changed. Am I the same person then?

  You rarely know when change is going to happen, that moment when the world shifts, and you see everything from a whole new perspective. Sometimes the change happens quickly. Sometimes it is a gradual process, evolving over time. Sometimes you look back and you know the change happened, but you are hard pressed to find the moment, to say when or how it happened. You simply know that it did.

  Then there are those rare moments, those times when you can see the change about to happen. Sometimes the change is lurking in the shadows; you know something is out there, but you aren't quite sure when it will strike, only that it likely will. Other times the change is a storm on the horizon, building, wind shifts announcing to those who can read the signs that the sunshine is soon coming to an end. You can prepare for some change, even fight it on occasion. Other times, it is like the tide: inevitable, unstoppable.

  Of course, the tides have risen and fallen for nearly an eternity. Storms have come and gone countless times. Creatures have leapt from and back into the shadows since long before they crawled from the sea.

  And you. You have failed, you have succeeded. I have succeeded, I have failed. Is there anything new under the sun?

  New, or old, I intend to tell you a story. And as I find with most stories, it is hard to know this story's true beginning, and therefore it is hard to know where I should start. Perhaps that is because all stories are part of one bigger story, and there has only been one true beginning. Or perhaps only a few witness each new beginning, and this makes the start blurred to the rest of us. Perhaps the story is a coil, a circle with never a beginning nor an end. Perhaps it is something else entirely. Though I have seen much, I do not know the answer.

  Whether they are at the beginning or at the end, or more likely somewhere in between, I want to tell you about the one called Michael and the one called Clara. Each of us has reasons; sometimes different reasons at different times. I have my purposes; you have yours. But in order for you to understand, I will need to go back further.

  For generations, human society had been based on the idea that every person had the ability to succeed, to improve one’s condition, even to rise to the top. The idea was one of equality of potential and of opportunity. These were the concepts that made the world go round, that powered the masses, that fueled economies, that improved standards of living, that gave hope. Despite the occasional setback, the idea contained a simple equation that stated that hard work would pay off, that effort would yield gains; Try, and eventually things would work out; Work hard, and one day you’ll make it. This idea made life better for billions where other ideas had failed.

  The equation, however, changed. Hope in equality did not spring eternal. One might argue it began with the drugs or with the chips. One might argue it began long before. But whether or not they were the genesis of events, the drugs and chips mattered. Some of the first drugs subtly improved memory. Others improved stamina and alertness. Then came those that dramatically reduced the time needed for sleep – some found they need no sleep at all. Later, the drugs radically increased brain connectivity. New breakthroughs were made. Life got better.

  The chips were simple enough back then. Accountants, businesspeople, and engineers found math bio-chips useful. Why bother with clumsy user interfaces and slow speed, when a bio-chip in the brain or under the skin could do the work flawlessly and with little effort, almost intuitively? Language and communication chips offered the promise of even closer human societies. Life got better.

  Life got better. For some.

  The drugs and the bio-chips came to be known as “the modification technologies,” “modology,” or, in shorthand, “mod.” It could have been that the modification technologies were simply an extension of what humanity had always done. Throughout recorded history, and likely even before, human
s were always changing their environment to better suit their needs and wants. And they were always changing themselves. They changed what they ate. They changed how they worked. They changed what they thought. Why not change a little more? It could have been merely a subtle continuation, but it wasn’t. Modology wasn’t simply a gradual extension of what humanity had always done. It was a sudden revolution, and a revolution not accepted by all.

  Perhaps the most alluring part of the mod revolution was the extension of life. Having obtained the fruit from the tree of knowledge long ago, they now sought to seize the fruit from the tree of life. But who could blame them? Would you turn down 10 more years of healthy life if it were offered to you in a pill? Would you turn down 50 more years? Or 100? Why not try to live forever? Who could blame them?

  Well, many people found that they could blame those who sought immortality, and they did. They blamed them out of jealousy or out of moral outrage. They blamed them out of concern for the less fortunate or out of concern for the future. They blamed them for many reasons. The modification technologies were expensive and not all could afford them. Others could afford them, but opposed the technologies on moral grounds. What was the true cost? Should thousands work almost as slaves so one can try to live forever? What right did these people have to play god? Couldn’t they see what the modification technologies were doing to economies and social systems? Did some people have the right to try to live forever at the expense of the rest?

  They called those who used the modification technologies “modified humans” or just “mods.” Those who rejected modology were first called “traditionalists,” or sometimes “true humans,” but they were soon known simply as “truds,” a shortened version of “traditional” coined by a modified who looked upon them as people who allowed themselves to be walked over, little more than evolution’s residual sludge. And then there soon arose a third major grouping: the “genetically modified” or “gens.”

  The gens did not merely adopt the modification technologies; the genetically modified were changed before conception, genetically engineered to be superior. First, parents might have simply selected the sex of their child, then the eye color. But why not give them perfect vision, too? Or how about a better memory? Or the ability to think faster? Better looks? More athletic? A better way to naturally interface with the chips? Why not? It could be done. All of it. For a price.