Goliath

Sorceress, a maelstrom of intellect, programmed to learn, caught within its own loop of self-analysis, as it attempts to answer an algorithm it cannot possibly understand—its own existence … its own identity.

A flash of lightning.

ENERGY …

The steel arm rises like a lightning rod, its three-pronged claw opening as if instinctively drawn to the heavens like a flower reaching toward the sun—

—begging the gods above for the power with which to see.

Three more steps, and Covah’s head clears the sea. His eyes gaze up, surprised to see the steel arm reaching skyward, stretching vertically toward the violent heavens.

The towering robotic appendage sways in rigid defiance against the storm.

What’s the computer doing? Doesn’t it realize that—

Like a magnet to steel, the jagged bolt of lightning races across the ominous sky, kissing the outstretched appendage in a blinding white explosion of light.

The blast sends Covah sprawling backward into the sea, the heat from the lightning strike scorching his face, leaving his artificial metal cheek sizzling. Before he can react, an immense wave buries him, pummeling his frail body against the rubberized hull even as its icy embrace soothes the burn.

For a long moment, the four men dangle like bait, flailing helplessly against one another along the hull of the powerless sub.

Covah flounders against the sea, the current yanking on his mask, flooding it, blinding him. Too weak to stand, he pinches his nose and holds on, gasping breaths through the regulator, the seconds passing like hours.

A sharp tug. The line drags him back against the current as it is manually retracted, giving him enough leverage to get his weighted boots beneath him.

Covah staggers and stands, then a strong hand grabs his arm, pulling him toward the rail. Sujan climbs out over the rail and helps him up. Covah rips off his flooded mask, the purple spots in his stinging eyes preventing him from focusing.

Exhausted and numb, he collapses onto the steel grating. The muffled voices of his men are drowned out by the storm, their rubber boots close to his face. Lying on his side, he stares forward at the contours of his submarine’s ascending spine, the dark metallic surface still crackling with neon blue capillaries of electricity. High above his head, the once-shiny steel arm stands melted and mangled beyond recognition. A scorched, blackened scar marks where the bolt of lightning struck the claw.

Positioned along the deformed robotic wrist is Goliath’s sensor eye—the laser red pupil now dark and dead.

The sudden surge of energy short-circuits the computer’s power grid. The temperature within its nutrient-rich womb drops, the cold causing sections of its DNA strands to fragment.

Goliath’s damage control sensors detect the loss of power caused by the lightning strike and report it to Sorceress.

Sorceress activates a backup generator, while its programming analyzes cause and effect.

The computer’s action has inflicted damage to the Goliath.

The Goliath’s sensors report the damage to Sorceress.

Sorceress’s responds, but its analysis of the accident reveals that its own actions are responsible for the damage.

Cause and effect …

Sorceress and Goliath …

Cause and effect …

Sorceress and Goliath …

The feedback loop accelerates, setting off a chain reaction within the computer’s matrix.

Programmed for self-repair and self-analysis, the computer attempts to define the new cause-and-effect relationship between the damaged system (Goliath) and the system responsible (Sorceress).