Darkness - Book One of the Dark Series of Novels

Chapter Two

Troy strolled through the forest at a brisk pace. He walked for three days to the edge of the wood, through the valley, to the foot of the mountain, without stopping, the sun feeding his resolve. He continued up the mountain, not to its peak, but slightly east, which, according to his map, was the quickest and easiest way by foot. It was raining fiercely. The rain pinched his skin as it splashed and turned leaves and grass brown on contact. Two days later he was descending and, as he approached the foot of the mountain, a landslide erupted behind him. He ran but miscalculated; a tree fell on top of him. He wasn't damaged, but he was stuck long enough to be buried under forty feet of earth. He couldn't move in any direction.

He exhaled one final time.

***

The world thudded differently. It wasn't an animal. Somewhere above Troy's buried body, a person had walked across his grave. His proximity alarm moved out of hibernation and sent a furious signal across several spectrums, as well as a piercing high-pitched squeal. The person above stopped, moved in circles, planted something with a thud and left. He did not return alone.

As the alarm continued, a dozen people thudded, walking back and forth. Before long they were digging in a wide, thorough, organized rectangle. It was excruciating and interminable. The alarm gave them little urgency, though it did guide them. They found Troy's index finger first, carefully brushing away debris and dirt. They continued with care, putting the pick-axes and shovels aside, digging now by hand and with soft brushes. By the afternoon Troy's arms were exposed, then his head, his torso and finally his legs, until his entire body was above ground, in precisely the same position as it had lain when he was buried.

Having been exposed to the sun for a few hours, Troy was sufficiently recharged. He opened his eyes, stood and bounded out of the hole – some fifty feet in one jump – and stood on the edge of the hole looking skywards.

He left his severed right arm behind him.

***

Dr. Jonny Nguyen had dreamed of the Google Server Farm since childhood. He wanted to see it, to touch it, to know what it meant to be in the presence of all human knowledge, accumulated to the very pinnacle of its achievement, just before the collapse. His home in New Seoul, Korea, at the University of Seoul II had only thirty computers, and only enough power to run twenty at a time on a good day. And it was the second largest computer lab in the world.

His skills as an archaeotechnologist were not in demand. Had he been a farmer like his brother and father, he would have been wealthy, been married; travelled less, certainly, but given more. He never would have been walking through the woods outside of Tokyo II; he never would have heard the tell-tale beep of the proximity alarm, warning him of an archaeological treasure hidden somewhere near at hand.

He rushed back to the university, stealing a team of diggers, and came back to the site. They dug – for weeks, intricately, drawn to the alarm but aware that errant digging and clumsy pick-axes could destroy the tiny interfacing units – USB Keys, portable computers – that could otherwise be useable. He found the beige finger. He thought it was a mannequin, but it moved, almost in nervous reflex, as he brushed. He grasped it, moved it in his hand. It bent and moved like a working finger; but that was impossible. Instead, he deduced that it was mechanical. He had read about sex toys given much the same digital articulation as a normal human and thought perhaps that is what he had found.

He continued to dig, carefully brushing away dirt and pushing away dirt with his hands. He found a head – bald, covered in the same beige, silicone skin. Largely intact, cold. It had male features – unusual for a sex toy, but not unheard of. He continued digging.