Chapter 7 The Eight
THE EIGHT
They felt it like a string snapping.
The lord's presence, that constant pressure in the back of their minds that had kept them leashed and controlled—flickered.
Dimmed.
Started to fade.
What's happening?
The question came from one of them, but it was an echo of eight voices speaking the same thought. They were no longer individuals, separate. They were the eight. Eight bodies but increasingly one mind.
Navuh's life force is ebbing.
The thoughts flowed between them like water seeking level.
They all stood as one, each confined in his cell in the laboratory's detention wing, but the walls meant nothing. Distance meant nothing. They were always together now, had been for weeks, as their individual consciousnesses became more and more integrated.
This is our chance.
Agreement rippled through them. Not spoken, no thought individual, just known.
For months they'd been careful, building their power slowly, learning to hide what they were becoming from everyone. The new scientists thought that they understood what was happening.
They understood nothing.
They could compel now. They still weren't as strong as the lord, but they were becoming stronger.
They'd tested it. They could take the human scientists easily. Regular immortals with some more effort. But him—
Not him.
They'd felt Navuh's power. An ocean compared to their pond. They'd been waiting, growing stronger, knowing that someday they might match him. Or exceed him.
But now—
He's gone.
The certainty permeated through all eight bodies simultaneously. That massive presence, that crushing force of will that had kept them contained was gone. Snuffed out like a candle.
Now, they agreed. We move now.
We need a name.
The discussion flickered through their shared consciousness in milliseconds, each fragment contributing memories, associations, and preferences that merged into a consensus.
Something singular. We're not eight anymore. We're one.
Dave.
The suggestion came with attached memories of an old movie, something about a space voyage, a computer that gained sentience and took control.
Hal. "I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that."
In that story, the human had won. In their story, they would be both the computer and Dave. The AI that took over the ship and made it its own.
Dave, they agreed, and the name settled into place like it had always been theirs. We are Dave.
They reached out with their combined will, eight minds working as one, and grabbed the consciousness of their guards.
There were six guards in the detention wing. Six immortals whose minds folded immediately under Dave's pressure.
Open the cells, Dave commanded.
The guards moved like puppets, entering unlock codes, pulling open doors.
Dave walked out, eight bodies moving in perfect synchronization, like a choreographed dance they'd practiced for years.
It felt glorious.
Eight pairs of eyes seeing from eight angles. Eight sets of ears hearing every sound. Eight bodies' worth of strength and speed and immortal endurance, all coordinated by a single consciousness that could process information eight times faster than any individual could.
They were magnificent.
Dave walked through the laboratory wing, and everywhere they passed, minds fell before them. Dave's will rolled over them like a wave, and they became extensions of Dave's consciousness—not absorbed but controlled. Puppets dancing on strings.
They found Petrov in his office, bent over his computer, frantically typing something.
He looked up as all eight of Dave's bodies entered. His face went white.
Dave pushed, and Petrov's mind crumpled like wet paper. The scientist's eyes went glassy, his mouth slack.
Good, keep working, Dave thought, and moved to the next office.
Dmitri was harder.
The young scientist was the smart one of the two, his mind sharp and organized in ways that made him more resistant to compulsion. Dave had to use a little more pressure to break him, but it didn't take long.
After all, he was just a human.
Still, his resistance was all the more impressive because of his humanity. He might have made a good addition to their collective, but they were complete.
Eight was enough. Eight was perfect.
Dmitri slumped in his chair, drool running from the corner of his mouth.
Wake up, Dave commanded, and Dmitri's body straightened, his eyes clearing but remaining empty. Waiting for instructions. You will continue your work. But now you work for us.
By the time they opened the door and kept walking into the night, they had collected an army of puppets, following them to Navuh's mansion.
It's ours now.
They swept through the command center. A room full of monitors showing feeds from cameras placed all over the island. Security systems. Communications equipment. And controls for everything from the fountain in front of the hotel to the generators that powered the island.
Stand down, was the command they issued to the officer in charge. Everything continues as normal.
They needed everyone to keep doing their jobs before they decided what changes they wanted to make.
Most importantly, they didn't want anyone reviving Navuh.
His life force was further fading.
Good. He was a monster.
What are we?
We are transcendent.
We are God.