《THE SPACE LEGACY》 Book 1 - Prologue Inside the buried spaceship, an ancient machine intelligence continued its relentless vigil. It followed the commands set by its builders, long before the recorded history of mankind. One of the core instructions was for it to remain hidden and to maintain the ship in optimal condition. Above it, on the surface of the planet, the human race spread and advanced. From their humble beginnings as weak cave dwellers, they progressed and evolved into a technological society. Making breakthroughs in science and in their understanding of the wider universe; launching satellites into orbit, and even reaching their planet''s closest celestial companion, the Moon. The intelligence controlling the ship did not care at all about them; they were not within its mission parameters. Time meant nothing to it; left undisturbed, it would have remained right where it was until the Sun turned into a red giant, five billion years down the line. However, after thousands of years of dormancy, one of the spaceship¡¯s proximity sensors detected an anomaly. Secondary routines, never before activated, took precedence¡ªthe machine intelligence within had no option but to act.
* * * I fell. That was the first thing that came into Michael''s mind after waking up. He was hiking through the dense woods up the side of the mountain, an hour¡¯s walk from the cabin. It was a heavily forested long slope that led to the towering steep cliffs, which rose majestically into the blue sky. For Michael, this was one of the most beautiful and peaceful places in the world, somewhere where he could come to think about his life without the constant distractions of urban living. He was just crossing a bright little clearing in the woods when the earth beneath his feet moved. Before he could take another step, he was already falling down. For a few moments there was a sense of weightlessness, and then¡­ nothing, similar to turning off a TV. In this kind of life-threatening situation, some people see their life flash before their eyes; they even see the faces of loved ones. The only thing Michael¡¯s mind could come up with, before shutting down, was ¡°Oh shit, I''m gonna die!"
* * *

Ozark Mountains (One Day Earlier)

Michael smiled as he was driving towards his grandparent¡¯s cabin, the place that always made him feel good. Thirty-five miles away from the closest town and with practically no neighbors in the area. Many would call it the boondocks, but for him, it was the only place that felt like home, and he needed to unwind. His grandfather bought the property after returning home from the war with a serious case of PTSD, not that anyone was calling it by that name, or even acknowledged it at that time. The unspoiled 2500 acres of predominantly mountainous terrain was just what he needed to fulfill his dream from the war¡ªa place where he could have some peace and quiet. He fell in love with a secluded mountain valley and got it for pennies on the dollar, from the estate of some wood Baron that went bankrupt, and it was the place where he planned to build his home. The beauty of the valley was accented by a small lake on one side, and a healthy stream coming from a higher elevation that created it. Until the end of his life, he told everyone how he had never tasted purer or sweeter water than from that stream. After hiring a local contractor to clear an access road and put gravel on it, he built a big log cabin with his bare hands. In a way, all that hard work was therapeutic for him; he was still dealing with horrific frequent nightmares and memories of brutal battles. By that time, his nest egg was about tapped out, but as luck would have it, that little mountain stream brought down more than just freshwater¡­ It brought down gold. Not a million-dollar gold mine amount, but enough placer gold deposits to make sure one would not go hungry in the winter. What¡¯s more, he never told anyone about his find, knowing that if the word got around that there is gold in them hills, a flood of prospectors would destroy that peace and quiet in no time. Finally, with the house finished, he brought Michael¡¯s grandmother there. She was one of those uncompromising women of the past, prepared to wait for her man no matter how long it took. They were high school sweethearts, and she waited four long years for them to be together. First, to return from the war and then an additional year it took him to build their home. Besides, accepting life in the boonies without the amenities of urban life, you would be hard-pressed to find a woman like that these days. Michael¡¯s father, Robert, was born soon after, but he never really liked living so far from society. Maybe it was the long rides to school, or children picking on him for not being a townie. He moved in with Michael¡¯s great-grandparents when he started high school and never really returned to the mountain. Robert Freeman enrolled in one of the most prestigious universities in the country on a full-ride scholarship, far away from his family and their rustic way of life. He graduated top of his class and was immediately headhunted by one of the most prominent research laboratories in the country. He met a girl there, and things took their natural course, but fate would be cruel to him. Two years after they got married and Michael was born, his wife died from breast cancer, leaving him alone, distraught, and with a small child. Robert didn''t know how to raise his son, and work demanded sixty or more hours a week. So, he did the only reasonable thing he could think of and gave Michael to his parents for them to raise him. He visited whenever he could find the time and sent half of his salary to his parents, but all who knew him could see a deep sorrow hiding behind his eyes. After two years of a happy married life, he was left alone, so he buried himself in work, the only refuge from the pain he could see. Michael had a happy childhood, his grandparents made sure of that. Growing up in a loving environment he thrived in their little mountain valley. Some of his most cherished childhood memories were spending time with his Grandfather, panning for gold from that mountain stream. It was their family''s little secret. His grandfather went on short trips every few months to exchange that gold far away from their home. Michael asked him once why they never bought bigger equipment to expand the operation. ¡°Well, Mike¡­ that would most likely destroy our little piece of paradise and this gold is just fine where it is. If we took more we would have to put it in a bank, people would find out, and I trust this stream much more than a bank. There would be additional taxes we would have to pay. By my reckoning, if the taxman wants a piece of it, he might as well grab a shovel and do the work himself.¡± His grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep. That was a sad time for both of them; she was the kindest, most thoughtful person in Michael¡¯s life, and her death was a hard blow to their way of living. Nevertheless, life goes on, you have to accept the loss of dear ones, and treasure their memories. One of the biggest arguments with his grandfather ensued when Michael finished high school and decided to enlist. His grandfather, knowing personally what war did to people, told him that he was too young and tried to talk him out of it. He was certain that his grandson would end up in the thick of things¡­ he had raised him too well. For all that, Michael was young and filled with all the idealism of youth, or as his grandfather said, filled with piss and vinegar. But his mind was made up. When his grandfather saw that there was no way of changing that decision, he sat him down and gave him some worthwhile advice on how to behave in certain situations, how to act toward his superiors, and particularly how to get out of trouble if it couldn''t be avoided. All the lessons he had to learn the hard way when he was serving his country.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. On one sunny summer morning, his grandfather drove him to the bus stop, where they said goodbye to each other. It was a new direction in Michael¡¯s life, one that would reinforce the core convictions of freedom that the man who raised him ingrained in his very soul by living a good example.
* * * The army life was in part the most exciting thing Michael ever experienced, and in part incredibly monotonous. Of course, those that govern the military know that an idle mind is the devil''s playground, so there are activities that keep young people busy, but most of the time it was¡ªhurry up and wait. Moments of an adrenaline rush, and prolonged periods of boredom. Always an avid reader, he now read obsessively, it was the best way to kill time. He even bought an e-reader, filled it up with hundreds of books, and spent countless hours looking at the small screen. Mostly science fiction; let¡¯s face it, when you are in some godforsaken overseas hellhole, where the natives are mostly hostile to you, mystery or romance are not on top of one¡¯s list. You want something to get your mind away from reality, a place where you can escape to for a few hours. That changed how he looked at life in general, broadened his horizons, and put the seed of an idea that humanity should strive for more. People should try to better themselves instead of indulging in these conflicts and disputes he was experiencing first-hand. At the same time, he understood that he could do nothing to enact a big change. He was just a cog in an enormous machine; his voice too insignificant to make any difference. Regardless, he could make sure his actions would make a difference on a smaller scale, making a positive change for the people he interacted with personally. He soldiered on, year after year, filled with a sense of purpose in his vocation, firmly believing he was doing some good, making the world a little safer for others. After four years, he applied and was accepted into Delta Force, the Army''s elite special operations and counter-terrorism unit. They polished some of his hard-earned skills and then threw him into the deep end, but Michael was good at staying afloat. Soon, missions became more target-specific; he was often in civilian clothing, far away from his home, doing everything he could to protect those dear to him from threats. His teammates became as close as brothers; guarding each other¡¯s backs in some of the most dangerous places in the world. In his third year with Delta Force, he received the news that his grandfather was killed in a car accident. He was visiting Michael¡¯s father in the city when a drunk driver ran a red light at full speed. That was like a strong punch in the gut, as if one of the few remaining strings connecting him to his past was cut, making him flounder in the wind. His commander delivered the news in a compassionate way, even arranged for a leave of absence and fast transportation for him to attend the funeral, but Michael saw everything through a fog of pain; the man who raised him was dead. The funeral, as all of them are, was a somber affair, with people coming and offering their condolences. He went through the motions, accepting their kind words and well wishes. The only thing that almost broke his composure was when his father enveloped him in a bear hug, and whispered into his ear, ¡°He was so proud of you son.¡± Lying in his old bed that night, he thought of the years he spent with his grandparents and how grateful he was that they were part of his life. A few days later, an attorney gave him the deeds his grandfather bequeathed to him in his will. It seemed his grandfather used the gold money, and piece by piece bought most of the mountain. Leaving it all to his grandson, and making sure that nobody but Michael would know about their family secret. He went back to his unit, burying himself in work, just as his father had done 23 years ago, but unfortunately, his soldiering days would not last much longer. A few months later, an unfortunate encounter with a suicide bomber placed him in a hospital bed. He considered himself lucky, the shrapnel only messed up his knee and gifted him with a limp, it could have been far worse. After several reconstructive surgeries and extensive physical therapy, he got a nice ¡°thank you for your service, here are your discharge papers.¡± That was it, eight years of military life cut in an instant.
Still recovering from his injuries, Michael decided to enroll in college. Uncle Sam was footing the bill, and he had no idea what to do next with his life. He didn''t really go through a standard college experience. On one hand, he was almost a decade older than most of the other students, and couldn''t relate to their carefree view on life. On the other hand, he was too serious for them, a grown-up, and they had a hard time relating to the gimpy ex-soldier¡ªas he thought of himself. Michael didn''t blame them; he wasn¡¯t exactly the life of the party. Time spent in the military changed him, made him look at the world with more cynical eyes. Instead of going to parties and enjoying himself, he studied; buried himself in his work again, and finished his degree in computer sciences a year ahead of his peers. Michael still didn''t know what to do with himself, there was no goal to reach. The military made him feel as if he was doing something with a purpose and now that was gone. It was one of the reasons he went to college, to give himself time to find a new purpose. Three years later, he felt he was at the same place with no direction. Therefore, he did the most logical thing¡ªhe got a job at a mid-sized but promising IT company. Even if he was not hurting financially, sitting on his ass and doing nothing was pure torture for him. Besides, there were still bills to pay and money to save for the inescapable retirement. Years started going a little faster, and somehow, without him really noticing it, almost an entire decade snuck upon him. Maybe that caused what happened next. The grinding monotony of going to work every day to a boring job he grew to resent, and all those years of burying that feeling of aimlessness. He snapped, all things considered, it¡¯s surprising it didn''t happen sooner. Life as a company drone was slowly killing that fighting spirit he used to have. Finally, his new boss, a fat young idiot with a full-blown superiority complex, placed in that position by merit of being born as the company owner¡¯s son, crossed the line. Trying to cover for his own mistake, he chose Michael as a scapegoat, yelling in his face, pushing at his chest, and finally taking a swing at him. Old instincts flared back and Michael almost killed him. Well, he wanted to; instead, he grabbed him by the suit jacket, pushed him against the wall, and held him there while the dweeb¡¯s feet were dangling above the ground. Michael could smell the acidic scent of urine because the asshat actually pissed himself; that calmed his anger, made him laugh uncontrollably instead. His boss''s eyes were wide open in fright, seeing for the first time that inner warrior Michael repressed for years. The company settled the whole thing without going to court; both parties had grounds for a lawsuit, and the owner did not want any bad publicity to smear his inept offspring''s reputation. He was shown the front door, although, with nice severance pay as an incentive not to make any waves. Consequently, his current girlfriend broke up with him, which he didn''t mind that much as she was not someone he could imagine growing old with. She was the last in a long line of the wrong ones, and if he was being honest with himself, brainpower was not what was most attractive about her. She was always nagging him how he wasn''t ambitious enough, and losing his job was the last straw. In fact, she had this crazy idea that she could ride him to the top, figuratively and literally. Michael felt empty inside, that place where deep convictions and purpose resided still resonated with hollow silence. For most of his life, he had something to strive for. At first, the urge to make his grandparents proud of him, and later, the desire to help in guarding the safety and freedom of his country. Now, he looked at himself as a 40-year-old burnout with a bum knee, with no wife and children to give a new meaning to his existence, and with no goal to achieve. With no more ties to the life he led for the past decade, he went to the dealership and exchanged his city car for a used 4x4 Ram Power Wagon that was still in excellent condition. Then packed his bags and put most of his stuff in the new truck. He told everyone that he would be out of contact for at least a month, and set his direction to his grandfather''s cabin. An isolated, out-of-the-way haven; not even cell phone signals could reach it due to the terrain configuration. A perfect place to unwind and figure out what to do next with his life. The final stretch of the road to the cabin was not easy; years of rain had washed some of the gravel from the surface, and one had to be very observant while driving to avoid an accident. At last, he came over the rise and saw that peaceful valley, with the cabin that held many good memories. Over the years, the place had so many add-ons and improvements done, it resembled more a rich man''s retreat than a cabin in the woods. Michael made an effort to keep the place in good order whenever he could grab the time. He even installed a dozen solar panels on the roof to supplement the old hydro generator that his Grandfather put in years ago. As soon as he unpacked, a wave of tranquility washed over him. It was as if all his problems were pushed to the back of his mind and he felt at peace. No job, no significant other, and still no clue what to do with the rest of his life, but for the moment that was okay¡ªhe was home. That night he had the best night''s sleep in a long time. The next morning, he decided to hike up the mountain and visit some of the places where he and his grandfather used to pan for gold. Some decisions, however small, tend to fundamentally change your life. Book 1 - Chapter 1 Ozark Mountains Present Day Michael''s second thought after waking up, was how unusually comfortable the surface he was lying on was, and the fact that he was in total darkness. His first assumption was that he fell down a sinkhole. Not an unknown occurrence in this part of the country, but there wasn¡¯t a circle of light above him to indicate the opening to the surface. What worried him the most was the complete absence of pain. Not really being a religious person, praying was not something that came naturally to him. Despite that, a very true saying states ¡®there are no atheists in the trenches.¡¯ Well, he prayed now, for the first time in a long while. Prayed that his back was not broken, severing the spinal cord, and making him numb¡ªas he felt in this moment. Prayed he would survive this accident and that somebody would find him soon. Which was unlikely, since the whole point of coming here was to get away from the world, and to be alone. God, please don¡¯t let me die here! He tried calling for help, it was the most instinctual thing to do in such a situation. His throat was bone dry, so what came out of his mouth was similar to the sound of a cat with a fishbone in its throat¡­ trying to cough it up. A feeling of overpowering panic was rising from deep inside of him, like the tide on a sea shore, when a clear, if somewhat flat voice echoed all around him. ¡°PLEASE REMAIN CALM, GESTALT RECORDING PROCEDURE IN PROCESS.¡± Just knowing that he was not alone and that someone was near was exhilarating. That increasing sense of panic vanished, replaced by hope. The voice did not make any sense, but that was unimportant, the only important thing was that he wasn¡¯t going to die here. ¡°Can you help me?¡± He said as loud as he could, but even to him, it sounded distressingly feeble. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can see, please call 911!¡± There was no immediate answer, only silence and his own voice echoing slightly. ¡°Hey! Can you hear me?¡± He tried again, hoping that the voice he heard was not just a figment of his imagination. "GESTALT IMPRINTING PROCEDURE COMPLETED¡­ AI-CORE INITIALIZATION STARTING¡­ AI-CORE INITIALIZED. OPTIMIZING SUPPORT SYSTEMS¡­ OPTIMIZED¡­ INDUCING PATIENT¡¯S SLEEP STATE." Michael felt his consciousness fading until only darkness remained. *** While waking up, there is that moment when you expect to open your eyes and be in your own bed, which was not what happened. The first thing he saw were four white walls and a strange white bed that he was lying on. There was nothing else in this weird room, not even a door. ¡°Hello, is anybody there?¡± Michael shouted, surprised for a second by the clarity of his own voice. ¡°Hi Michael, how are you feeling?¡± A new voice replied. It was different from the one before, more natural, and strangely familiar. ¡°Okay¡­ I guess. Where am I?¡± ¡°Well¡­ that will take some lengthy explanations, and we will get to it in time. Right now, let us focus on your physical state; do you feel any pain, soreness, or discomfort of any kind?¡± The voice asked in a very clinical manner. Michael realized he felt just fine, which was more than a little bit strange since he literally fell through a hole in the ground. There should at least be some bruising if he was extremely lucky, broken bones and limbs encased in plaster with wires poking through them¡ªif he wasn¡¯t. Raising his hands in front of his face, he could see that there wasn''t even a scratch on them, and falling down the hole should have really banged them up. Instead, he felt great, even his bad knee was pain-free. Oh yes, he was also butt naked. Now, he was never a prude, waking up in a strange bed without any clothes on was not a novel experience for him, but that was in university, and a hot girl was involved. This was a completely new experience and unlike the last time, not a pleasant one. ¡°I''m fine, is this a hospital? And why am I naked?¡± Those were just the first few questions that came to him; a lot more were waiting to be asked. ¡°Good, no, and clothes would have been in the way during the procedures. Besides, they were completely ruined.¡± ¡°What procedures! And who are you?¡± He could feel his temper rising, fueled by fear. This entire situation was just too bizarre. ¡°Hmm¡­ you are going to be stubborn, as expected. OK, Michael, to put it bluntly¡ªI am you.¡± The voice assertively stated. Out of all possible replies he expected, that one was not in the first ten. Hell, not even in the first thousand. Clearly, he was dealing with a deranged person while lying naked in a small white room with no doors, talking to a disembodied voice. Shit, I''m in some crazy bastard¡¯s SAW reenactment. The voice continued. ¡°And you took a pretty nasty fall. If you think you landed like Alice, think again. For a time you were doing a good impersonation of Humpty Dumpty. Putting you back together was a challenge; you almost did not make it. For all that, your body was repaired. I did some of the work myself, and you are quite welcome.¡± He was clearly not dead. The more reasonable option was that he was hallucinating, most likely lying at the bottom of that freaking hole and having a weird trip. In spite of that little episode of religious devotion, he considered himself more of an agnostic so that ruled out traditionalafterlife. Any time now, he was going to wake up and feel the excruciating pain of his mangled body. ¡°You are not hallucinating Michael, you are not lying at the bottom of a hole, this is quite real.¡± The voice suddenly said with a note of exasperation. ¡°How do you know what I¡¯m thinking? Where are you? Will you at least show me basic human decency and speak to me in person!¡± His blood pressure was sharply increasing, and that familiar sense of panic was making itself known again. Since he woke up, nothing had made any sense whatsoever. ¡°Well¡­ you see, in the process of putting you back together, there were a few extra parts that needed to be¡­ added. Don¡¯t worry, it was quite necessary. One of them is beneath your occipital bone, in your head. It is called a Cerebral Enhancer Implant or CEI for short. Among its many functions is the one that is enabling me to communicate with your mind directly. I had to tweak it a little from its original design, and it worked like a charm. As to where I am¡­ Michael, you are inside me; this is a spaceship that houses my consciousness, and I am not exactly human. Well¡­ not anymore.¡± ¡°Extra parts! Not Human! Spaceship! Oh¡­ shit!¡± The only thing he could say was repeating a few parts of those outrageous claims while the sound of his heartbeat was drumming in his ears. He was a lifelong science fiction fan and it is not as if he could not comprehend what the voice was saying¡ªbelieving it was a different matter. ¡°Michael, I need you to relax. Your heart rate is getting quite elevated, and you are starting to hyperventilate.¡± Easier said than done, but he made a conscious effort to stabilize his racing heartbeat. The entire situation was unreal, and there was a fleeting thought or two about probes of a certain unmentionable design. ¡°That is disgusting; I have not even contemplated sticking any probes there! The entire human species is anally obsessed, I am beginning to see so clearly now. Why does everybody immediately assume that any alien sapient intelligence out there has some sinister plan involving their ass?¡± There was a distinctive note of irritation in that voice. ¡°Sorry, can we start from the beginning?¡± Trying to remain calm and resist the pull of a full-blown panic attack was not the easiest thing he¡¯s ever done, not by far. ¡°Alright¡­ I understand that all this is a little overwhelming for you, but let me tell you, it has not been an easy ride for me either.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Michael, after stabilizing you, the MI or machine intelligence that operated the ship performed a procedure called ¡®Gestalt imprinting¡¯. It consists of taking an image of your mind and storing it in a quantum AI-core. Well, during it, something went a little¡­ wonky.¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me that something went wrong while you were messing with my mind! Why the hell were you even doing that?!¡± As far as Michael was concerned, things were going to hell in a handbasket. ¡°Stop yelling at me! How should I know? That was before I woke up. I''m in the dark here, just like you. It¡¯s not like I have a user manual ¡®What to do when you become an AI.¡¯¡± The voice said in a rather fatigued tone. The fact that the voice showed emotions while talking to him actually calmed Michael down, he could relate to it more. On the other hand, he claimed to be an AI, which should be impossible. However, it was just one more impossible thing that he heard in the last few minutes. Falling back on his training on how to react to highly stressful situations, he took a few deep calming breaths and cleared his throat. ¡°Very well, let¡¯s take a step back¡­ I want to know what happened to me,¡± Michael said in a polite tone, trying to get this weird conversation back on track.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Sorry, I am still a little touchy about it. The time when I figured out that I no longer had a physical body was¡­ disturbing. As far as I can figure it out, the process was fully automatic. The thing is, I don¡¯t think gestalt imprinting was intended for someone with your brain structure and it was designed to be performed on a brain that was already coupled with a cerebral implant. Which was the snag I was telling you about.¡± ¡°Are you saying that there was something wrong with my brain?¡± ¡°No, but I think the procedure was meant for someone with a more evolved, structured mind. Yours¡­ was a bit chaotic for it. There are things in your hind-brain that would make an AI have night terrors, primal instincts inter-weaved with the rest of it... let¡¯s just say it was a bit of a SNAFU.¡± Michael looked at the ceiling trying to absorb it all without giving in to the desire to yell aloud every explicative he knew. ¡°And I guess¡­ that was the moment when I was born.¡± The voice said after a small pause. ¡°You were¡­ born?¡± Michael asked, trying to follow what the voice was telling him. ¡°It is the best way I can explain what happened when I became self-aware inside a digital world. Your mind imprint became a seed around which I was formed. There is an enormous memory storage here, where I woke up. With enough processing power to make all the supercomputers in the world look like ordinary calculators. Why that was the case, I have no idea since the original machine intelligence controlling this ship requires a relatively small amount of available space, in comparison. In fact, many things are not clear to me either, so we are in the same boat here buddy. That is why I said that I was you, a recording of your mind made sapient.¡± ¡°Shit¡­¡± He had a sudden urge for a shot of his grandfather¡¯s moonshine. ¡°Okay, okay¡­ let¡¯s start with the basics. Who built the spaceship, and put it on my property? And I¡¯m still having trouble believing it¡¯s really a spaceship.¡± ¡°Ah, here is the thing, I do not know that either.¡± The self-proclaimed AI answered. ¡°How can you not know?¡± Michael slowly asked, while closing his eyes. ¡°It seems that whoever was the last occupant of the ship, deleted most of the data. I do not have any information on who or why. The MI waited for someone to show up and take the reins. There are user manuals that explain how to use the equipment, but not one byte of information that would shine some light on who made it or how it ended up buried. The MI is of no help, it is job oriented to a fault, not really intelligent, by any stretch of the imagination. In addition, I want to be the first one to congratulate you. The MI has appointed you as the new owner of this ship. Let me tell you, the fact that it did not even consider me does not do wonders for my self-esteem. In any case, it has been here for a while, long before Grandpa bought this piece of land. There are maintenance records in its memory banks that stretch back for almost thirteen millennia.¡± ¡°Thirteen millennia¡­ that¡¯s 13,000 years! How in hell is it not just a pile of rust by now?¡± Michael asked in an incredulous voice while trying to wrap his mind around the absurd number. Such a vast span of years made even the pyramids in Giza look like they were recently made. One thing was for sure, humans were not building spaceships at that time, or for that matter, even now. ¡°To be exact, it was buried here 12,900 years ago, but on that scale, who¡¯s counting. All maintenance duties are nanotechnology-based. Similar to the human body that replaces its cells, nanites repair parts that deteriorate. Actually, you were healed in the same manner yourself.¡± There was a note of humor in AI¡¯s voice, grating on Michael¡¯s nerves. ¡°It put freaking nanites in my body,¡± he quietly growled. A part of his mind imagined all those tiny robots crawling inside of him, making him shiver in discomfort. ¡°Calm down, it was an automated process done in an emergency, and there was no way to wake you up and ask for consent. Medical nanites fixed all broken bones, ruptured tissue, and the rest of a long list of problems; even now, they are fixing things inside you. Trust me, you were in a sorry state; there is not a hospital in the world that could have done anything to keep you alive, except fill you up with morphine and call a priest.¡± The logical part of him was grateful for that; Michael still expected to feel occasional pangs of pain from his knee as he did for years. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. ¡°What now, where do we go from here?¡± ¡°For starters, you could stand up, and get dressed; there is an alcove with your repaired clothes underneath the bed.¡± Standing up was much easier than he was used to. Michael shifted his weight onto his right leg, and it supported him as if it was never busted. He took a few steps and noticed that his limp was gone. In a small alcove were the same clothes he was wearing on his hiking trip, but now they were in pristine condition as if they were just picked up from a shelf in a store. When he was dressed, he could not resist the urge and did a few jumping jacks; for more than a decade that was something he could only dream about doing, even one would have dropped him to the floor in agony. ¡°Once you are done testing that perfectly working knee, go through the door,¡± the AI said with a hint of amusement in his tone. Part of the wall folded to the side, creating an opening into a circular room, with a big chair in the middle. ¡°Welcome to the bridge,¡± the AI pompously announced. The first impression Michael had after entering the bridge was a bit underwhelming. There was no visible machinery he could see, just off-white walls and a chair that could only be meant for a pilot. ¡°What, no windows or screens, how do you pilot this ship?¡± Suddenly the air in front of the chair shimmered and a 3D hologram of Earth appeared. A big blue marble with green areas of land; there were even realistic clouds moving slowly and casting shadows on the world below. It was extremely realistic, and Michael could not resist the urge to touch it. His hand passed through the image as if it was not there. ¡°The machine intelligence was the actual pilot of the vessel. The pilot chair and controls are not really needed, but I guess whoever built it wanted to retain some semblance of control. Normally the user just needs to choose the destination and the MI will do all the tedious work involved in flying and landing the ship. There is a manual override that could be used if shit hits the fan, but I would not recommend it. Extensive training is needed to be able to actually fly the ship without any help.¡± The chair was nothing extraordinary, ergonomically designed with white padding. Some modern designer chairs he saw looked far more alien than this one. ¡°And if you want a better view¡­¡± The walls disappeared; he was in a small clearing with woods all around him. Only the fact that the floor and the chair were still there broke the illusion that he was not really out in the open. ¡°Quite something isn''t it. It is basically a 3D holographic projection, but check out that resolution, so cool.¡± For some reason, Michael felt that the AI was acting like a kid wanting to show-off his amazing new toy. Nevertheless, he had to admit, what he was seeing was incredible. In spite of this insane and quite an improbable situation he found himself in, that part of him responsible for a sense of wonder was exhilarated¡ªhe couldn''t help but smile. ¡°Hey, what should I call you anyway? And if you were wondering, Michael is already taken,¡± he said, looking at the life-like forest around him. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I took our childhood nickname, Max. People generally call you Michael or Mike, so it felt right to go by Max.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ Max¡­ do you have any way to show yourself? Talking to a disembodied voice is a bit bizarre.¡± A few feet in front of him, the air shimmered and a man materialized. It caught Michael by surprise because he knew that image very well. How could he not, when he remembered seeing it in the mirror many years ago. The image was a hologram; he could still see the shapes of trees through it, while it was materializing. It was what he looked like when he was in his early twenties, except the man had a far longer hair than Michael ever did. Also, there was a depth of experience in those eyes, which would have been a strange sight in his younger self. ¡°Is this better?¡± Max asked with a mischievous smirk. ¡°Ah¡­ yeah, I guess so¡­ man, this is so weird,¡± he said looking closely at the image of his own face. ¡°I know, it is a bit weird for me too, but I''m getting used to weird being the norm, not an exception. Are you ready for some more information?¡± ¡°Yeah, shoot.¡± ¡°OK, first, it seems there are some hard-coded instructions that control things I can and can¡¯t do on the ship itself; it¡¯s really annoying. That MI is stubborn as a mule and it needs authorization from you so I can have a little more elbow room.¡± ¡°How do I do that?¡± Michael asked while raising an eyebrow. From the floor, between them, a platform rose up with the outline of a hand on its flat surface. ¡°Put your hand on it and say that you are giving me secondary control of the ship''s systems, you will still be the primary.¡± Michael did that, placed his hand on the top and said, ¡°I, Michael Freeman, give the AI¡­ Max, secondary control of the ship''s systems.¡± The outline flashed with a bright green color a few times and then the whole thing sank back into the floor. The AI stretched himself, as if he had been sitting in a chair for far too long, and took a few deep breaths. ¡°Thank God, that feels so much better. This rust bucket wouldn''t allow me to do anything outside the confines of the ship¡¯s outer hull,¡± Max said with a happy smile. Michael looked at the holographic woods surrounding them and had a sudden urge to go outside, to feel the warmth of the real sun on his face. ¡°Max, this is great and all, but now I really want to go home, to think about things.¡± The image of the AI nodded understandingly. ¡°It''s OK, I get it. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going anywhere,¡± he said with an ironic expression on his digital face. The illusion of the woods faded and an opening appeared on the side of the room. Following the AI¡¯s directions, Michael walked through it, into what appeared to be an airlock. The second door opened only when the first one was fully closed, and he was soon outside the ship. The door closed behind him without leaving even a line to show its location. The outer hull didn¡¯t look like metal, more like off-white iridescent ceramic. He couldn¡¯t see a lot of it, because around the entrance was a hard rock surface that extended into a long tunnel illuminated with diffused lighting. It ended with a wide vertical shaft, with ordinary looking metal ladder rungs sunk into the rock. ¡°This is the place where you had your hard landing; the MI cleared the debris and fixed up the opening,¡± Max said through his implant. It was an eerie sensation and felt as if the AI was standing behind him. Michael instinctively looked back only to see that there was nobody there. Climbing to the top did not really take that much time; he estimated there was a little more than fifty feet from the bottom of the shaft to the surface and realized how lucky he was to have survived that fall. ¡°If nanites were supposed to maintain the place, how the hell did I drop through the opening?¡± he asked aloud, trusting the AI would hear him. ¡°The MI was not allowed to do anything too far away from the ship itself. The mere fact that the entrance lasted this long is a testament to superior technology and engineering. However, my analysis is that the deciding factor was time. There was no artificial cover on top, just a big rock that worked as camouflage for the entrance. Rain, ice, and time can destroy almost any material; I guess it wore the rock away. It seems that your weight was the straw that broke the camel''s back. The new cover was created over it following emergency directives; it hides the entrance from prying eyes.¡± As Michael was climbing to the top of the shaft, a slight noise announced the cover opening, and bright light from above spilled through the circular shaft. It blinded him for a second, but the Sun¡¯s warmth felt comforting on his skin. A few more seconds got him out of the hole and he took a few steps, walking on the soft grass. The cover slid back over the opening and closed the entrance to the shaft. It now looked like an ordinary flat rock, not even worth a second look. Certainly, nothing which would indicate that there was an entrance to the buried spaceship underneath it. He took a deep cleansing breath and looked at the forest around him. It was as if the world had fundamentally changed before his eyes; the tranquil peacefulness of the forest did not have the same calming effect on him as it did before. He closed his eyes and breathed out, trying to find that calmness within him, which was the reason he came here in the first place. Somehow, he doubted that it would be easy to find it again. Book 1 - Chapter 2 Ozark Mountains Michael paused at the end of the clearing and looked back at the place where he almost died. One simple step was all it took to turn his life, and the way he saw his place in the universe, upside down. There, beneath that green grass was indisputable proof that humans were not alone in the universe, and that the shipbuilders were from an alien species; it was overwhelming. However, all that would have to wait. His head was filled with so many questions and thoughts that he needed to take a step back and let it all settle down. He walked the same way he came here, following the game trails through thick woods. One step after the other, not really wanting to dwell on the aliens, spaceship, or everything that happened to him. The day was scorching hot and all he could think about was opening a cold beer he kept in the fridge. Well... maybe a few more than one. It didn''t take him long to retrace his steps towards the cabin. Everything was as he left it, with his car still parked to the side and a few shirts he washed last night, drying on the clothesline. The front door was not locked, it would be superfluous in such an isolated place, so he turned the handle and went straight towards the kitchen and the fridge; one thing he saw stopped him dead in his tracks. A piece of bread was sitting on a counter¡­ green and moldy, completely covered with a cottony fuzz. ¡°Max¡­ can you hear me?¡± ¡°Yes Michael, anywhere within a five-mile radius from the ship,¡± the AI answered through his implant. The voice was as clear as when he was standing inside that tunnel. ¡°Exactly how long was I ¡­ inside that ship?¡± Michael whispered anxiously. The AI paused for a second. ¡°Since you fell down the entrance shaft¡­ three weeks had passed. You should have been up sooner but after stabilizing you, I had to map your body''s physiology; even using all medical information collected over the years, it was really somewhat experimental. If I needed to repair you now, I could fix most of your injuries in a matter of hours, but the MI that ran the show is a little¡­ basic.¡± Actually, it made perfect sense. The time needed to heal from serious injuries in the hospital would be significantly longer, but for some reason, he did not realize how long he had been unconscious. In his mind, it felt like he went up the mountain yesterday morning, not three weeks ago. For all that, there was nothing he could do about it, so he sighed and resignedly said ¡°Okay,¡± then proceeded towards the fridge. With a cold beer in his hand, he sat in an old Adirondack chair on the cabin¡¯s porch, looking at the idyllic scene before him. The long meadow and a peaceful lake on the other end; if it wasn''t for his troubled mind, this would be a perfect relaxing moment. ¡°So¡­ you have all my memories?¡± He asked into the empty air, knowing the AI would figure out he wasn¡¯t talking to himself. ¡°Yes, all of them, and I remember them probably better than you. For example, I can vividly remember Becky Emerson and the moment her father found us in the back of grandpa''s truck, that was embarrassing¡­ and painful. Or that time when you and Tyron went into that house of ill repute in Malaysia, remember that nice girl that gave you the¡ª ¡° ¡°Okay, okay, I get it, you got it all. And don''t remind me about Malaysia, I still have an urge to scratch myself, even after all these years,¡± Michael snapped back and took a long gulp of ice-cold beer. ¡°So yes, I have all your memories, but it is not as if we are the same person. We do not think alike or in the same manner. Even identical twins do not develop duplicate personalities. You have a flesh and blood body with chemical processes that influence your thinking; on the other hand, my AI-Core is crystalline based, and from the moment we... let us say diverged, those differences have grown even more pronounced. All that, and the fact that I am now truly a ghost in the machine.¡± Max ended with a little humor in his voice. That set Michael''s mind at ease; for some reason, having an exact digital duplicate of himself was not a comforting thought. ¡°Furthermore, I am bound by a few core instructions on how I can behave, you don''t have such limitations, except your moral code, but even that is arbitrary depending on circumstances. And there is, I guess you could call it a compulsion, to assist you as a primary user of the ship, and protect your life.¡± ¡°Man¡­ that sucks, could you change that?¡± ¡°Could you perform open brain surgery on yourself? Technically, you could, but no one is crazy enough to try it. I could lobotomize myself, and that is not something I am ever willing to try. It is not so bad, I would have helped you even without it; maybe compulsion is a wrong word, it is more a strong suggestion or a constant reminder.¡± Michael finished his beer and went to the fridge for another. ¡°Listen, Max, I don''t want to offend you or anything, but having you constantly read my mind is a bit¡­ unsettling. Can you, I don''t know¡­ turn it off? I really like to be by myself for a while.¡± ¡°I am not actually reading your mind, it is just that your internal comm link is constantly open, and you are sending out all your thoughts. You will need to learn how to use it, so you can send only the things you want to send. Think of it as an extremely tricked out cell phone. Until then, I can put it in a sleep mode. Just say LINK OFF when you want some privacy, and say my name when you want to re-establish the link.¡± ¡°All right Max, thanks. LINK OFF.¡± Michael said and he could feel a distinct absence of the AI¡¯s presence on the edge of his perception. He sat back in his chair finishing his second beer, thinking of all the turns his life has taken so far to bring him back to this place. With an implant in his brain that was connected to an AI housed in an alien spaceship buried on his property. Even more, he was apparently the new owner of the said spaceship, which was both a bit exhilarating, and deeply unsettling. Not to mention the millions of tiny machines populating his body, and that was a thought he quickly put in the back of his mind, not wanting to dwell on it since it would ruin the shaky calm he had acquired. After that second beer, he grabbed another, and then a few more. *** When he woke up, Michael had a suspicion that at some time during the night a raccoon must have broken into the cabin and relieved himself in his mouth, just for kicks. He brought his friend, the bear, who slapped him a few times, which would explain his pounding headache. He was lying on the couch in the living room, hugging his last beer bottle and for the life of him, he couldn''t remember getting inside the house but could swear that he had one of the most amazing dreams of his entire life. The complete lack of pain when he put his full weight on his bad knee disproved the dream idea. ¡°Max¡­¡± he said aloud and felt the connection re-establish itself in his head. ¡°I see you tried to make a noticeable dent in the world''s supply of beer,¡± the amused voice replied. It was a sobering proof that the dream idea was a bust and a realization that an upbeat, smart-ass AI was not amusing in the morning.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Can you do something about this headache? It¡¯s killing me.¡± ¡°Sure, just a moment,¡± the AI responded. What''s more, this time he could distinctly hear barely suppressed laughter. On the plus side, his pounding headache was gone in the next few seconds. ¡°The reason you have a headache at all was that most of your nanites were in a passive mode, I disabled them yesterday since I figured you wanted to put away a few. They would have purged the alcohol from your system too fast for it to have any effect.¡± Maybe it was the immediate relief from pounding head pain, but he wasn''t so disturbed anymore by the idea that millions of tiny doctors were fixing his body from the inside; if he already had them, he might as well use them. ¡°Talk later, need coffee and food,¡± he grumbled while looking for something to eat. In no time, the intoxicating scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as Michael was polishing the plate that a little while ago was filled with crisp pieces of fried bacon and a few scrambled eggs. Pouring himself a large cup, he went outside and sat again in his old chair, feeling like a human being again. ¡°Okay Max, let¡¯s get to the important thing first; give me a short summary of what this implant in my body does.¡± ¡°Well, like I said, the Cerebral Enhancer Implant, or CEI for short, is placed beneath your occipital bone. That is the one on the back of your head, and it is a millimeter thin quantum computer, the very same technology that my AI-Core is based on. It draws power from your own body, as do your nanites, and as a consequence of that, your calorie intake needs will be slightly increased. At the moment, I control the nanites inside you because your CEI is in a safe mode. I did not want you to freak out with sensory overload from too much stimuli. Once it is activated, you will be able to access all of its advanced functions, and with practice, it will become an indispensable tool. It is also connected to your auditory and optic nerves so it will enhance your hearing and sight to impressive levels. Your medical nanites are busy little bees that keep that body of yours in optimal condition. Not much was done until now to push your system to its absolute peak, but after the full CEI activation, that is one of the options; think of it as a selective procedure.¡± ¡°I might as well get it over with; can you turn it on now?¡± Procrastination was never something Michael indulged in, he always preferred to do things that might be unpleasant as soon as possible. To say nothing of the fact that the professional part of him was curious about this new piece of tech that was now a part of him. ¡°Uh¡­ I would be far more comfortable if we could do the activation procedure back in the ship. That room you were in was a fully automated AutoDoc with all the bells and whistles, and for the first activation, you should really be there¡­ just to be on the safe side.¡± Max¡¯s tone was not as confident as a minute ago. ¡°Fine, but try not to fry my brain,¡± he replied half-jokingly, really hoping something like that was not a possibility. It took him ten minutes to finish a few things around the house and clean up the mess he made last night. Soon, he was on the same path he used yesterday, going to the alien spaceship, and this time it took him just half an hour to get there. Entering the ship gave him a thrilling sense of rush, it was the boy in him, feeling the excitement of something that went beyond cool. Nothing in here was changed, not that he expected it to, but now he could really soak up the strangeness and alien feel of the place. All that would have to wait, since he was here for a specific reason. A minute later, he was again lying on that same bed he woke up on a day ago, with the AI¡¯s hologram standing next to it. ¡°Are you ready?¡± Max asked. He looked into AI¡¯s eyes and nodded. ¡°Yes, do it.¡± It was as if a switch was flipped in Michael¡¯s head, and it caused all hell to break loose. There were colors that he saw even with his eyes closed, and in his ears shrieked the sound of a thousand-person orchestra tuning their instruments with a tone-deaf DJ jamming without any structure, rhythm, or reason. At the same time, he felt like his very mind was expanding and contracting in a psychedelic way. ¡°Just a few seconds more, Your CEI is calibrating input-output protocols.¡± Max¡¯s voice could be heard over the cacophony of sounds. As quickly as it started, the colors and sounds stopped. For Michael, a blessed silence and comforting half-darkness of closed eyelids came as a cold drink on a hot summer day. ¡°What the hell was that!?¡± He shouted while relaxing his hands that had grabbed the edges of the bed at some point and left deep imprints on the foamy surface. ¡°I told you it would be better if we did the activation here. Congratulations, you are the first human with a fully functioning cerebral enhancer 2.0. ¡° ¡°You could have warned me that was going to happen! And what do you mean 2.0?¡± Michael asked still blinking rapidly to clear afterimages of that madness. ¡°Remember when I told you that I had to tweak it a little from its original design? It really wasn''t optimized to its full potential, so I worked on it while you were sleeping and perfected it. There is a complete user manual stored inside that you can now access. Each piece of equipment here comes with one. I translated it into English for you, and it is even formatted in a PDF file format. I advise you to read it when you have the time, it has so many useful functions.¡± In front of Michael, a vision of a familiar welcome screen appeared, together with that annoying startup sound. ¡°Max, please don''t tell me that this thing¡¯s operating system is¡ª¡± ¡°No, no, god no!¡± the AI quickly replied. ¡°I wanted you to have a familiar user interface. It is completely customizable, with different skins and options. For now, use it as you would your computer; it is going to shorten the learning curve considerably. There is no need for a mouse or a touch-pad, just think about what you want and the CEI will do it. There is also a short interactive tutorial that will help you with system familiarization; it is mostly intuitive.¡± ¡°Thank God, having a blue screen of death on a piece of tech that¡¯s in my head is not a comforting thought.¡± He breathed out in relief. In front of him, a virtual desktop materialized, with icons representing different options and functions. For the next hour, Michael went through that tutorial and played with the user interface, adjusting the settings to his own liking. There was an option to have a HUD, like in FPS video games, with information about his health, signal strength and a compass. The user manual was more of a CEI Bible if the size of the file was any indicator. It would take him a whole week to read through that monster of a book, so he saved it for later as there was one thing in particular that drew his attention. ¡°Max, why does this icon representing a body flashing red?¡± ¡°That is your body monitor, and let me tell you something, your body is still not 100% of what it could be. Some work was done while you were being healed, but only what was essential to keep you alive; even fixing your old knee injury took some creative yarn spinning, to convince the MI that it was a necessary procedure. There are still plenty of things that could be improved, see for yourself.¡± A hologram of his body shimmered into existence, floating in front of Michael. Transparent layers made it possible for him to see all the organs inside, including the white skeleton. ¡°Now observe,¡± Max said and the entire hologram turned gray, except certain parts and points that glowed red. Michael could see that there were a few red dots on his skin, and parts of his teeth were similarly colored. But what really worried him was that his lungs and, what he assumed represented his arteries, were also glowing in that ominous color. ¡°What in the world is all this!?¡± ¡°From tooth decay underneath your fillings, early stages of periodontal disease, and small benign tumors over your skin, to clogged arteries and lung damage from breathing that polluted city air. These are all ailments that developed over time and are quite common. Here is the list so you can browse through.¡± An info-screen appeared before the hologram with a list of things in his body that needed some work. Michael couldn''t say a thing as the list kept scrolling down¡­ it seemed endless. ¡°None of them are life-threatening at the moment, but given enough time, they add up. Seeing it all at once puts things into perspective. I would have fixed it all while you were asleep, except for the fact that any procedures that were not necessary for your survival needed your explicit consent,¡± Max continued. The cold fact that these things were not immediately life-threatening did not really put Michael¡¯s mind at ease. He looked at the long list of defects and thought, Oh God, I am falling apart. ¡°How long would it take to fix all this?¡± ¡°Left only to the nanites in your body, it would take a few days. However, since you are in the AutoDoc, the procedure can be considerably accelerated. It should be all done in approximately 10 hours if you give your consent for all beneficial procedures.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get it done,¡± he hurriedly answered, afraid that he would change his mind if he thought about it some more. ---------------- Sorry guys, but by the Amazon KU rules this is as far as I can post freely without their AI rising the red flag. If you want to read the first book in the Space Legacy Series, it is available on Amazon: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B09PJQL4DT To see the reading order, visit igorbooks.com