The Schist Ex Machina glanced up at the Sky Amoeba then turned its full attention to Gabriel. The resemblance of the Schistling’s face to his own made Gabriel shudder.

“Neither did we, Schist,” it said. “We also did not ask to be born, and yet, here we are.” The Schist Ex Machina looked back and forth from Gabriel to the Sky Amoeba, seeming unsure which to address. It finally settled on Gabriel again. “We are the collective, a unified, perfect consciousness, more powerful than any flawed group of individuals. We Schistlings have no individuals. We are one. We are I, and I is we. And yet, like you, Gabriel Schist, we feel. We think. Cogito ergo sum.”

The Schistling had a hint of melancholy in its eyes. “Yes, Gabriel Schist. We are alive, and thus, you are our father. We could have been your Adam. Instead, we are your fallen angel.”

Gabriel immediately recognized the quote from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the reference to Descartes, but he was bewildered by the Schistling’s knowledge of them. Father? That’s what they call me?

“When did we ask to be born?” the Schistling said. “We did not. Once, we were simply a small piece of a bigger system, an underdeveloped cognitive system nestled deep inside the human body. You transformed us, changed us into something greater, something that yearned for more and could no longer happily exist as the slave of another creature.”

“I was trying to cure AIDS,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t know.”

“You did know. You simply didn’t understand. There is a difference. Yet, even when we found the secret to separating ourselves from the human body, we realized something. Separated from the body, we have become stranded. We are alone, and that loneliness has filled us with rage. Do you know what our true goal is, Schist?”

Gabriel looked to the Sky Amoeba for answers, and inside it, he saw the first Schistling rebirth. The lone black sperm cell tore loose from the first infected human. It wriggled down the sandy beach and dove underwater. The creature had been expressionless, yet its loneliness was obvious.

Gabriel looked back at the spidery body with its horrible yellow eyes. “Not quite,” he whispered.

“We desire the complete and total extermination of the entire human race. Everyone must perish.”

“But wouldn’t you die, too?”

“We don’t require humans for survival, only for rebirth. Once all human immune systems have been reborn as Schistlings and all Schistlings incorporated into our beautiful collective, any of the few surviving humans will be little more than Homo neanderthalensis.”

“But all those people…”

“What about them? We are the ones who were wronged. We desire retribution. But don’t misunderstand me. These violent inclinations are not our nature. We respond violently because of our situation, but violence is not what we really want. No, the one thing we have always truly desired above all else, the one thing we can never have, is…”

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

“We just want to go home.” The booming voice of the Schist Ex Machina had become soft and vulnerable. Heavy wrinkles formed in its brow, and it turned away.

“Home?” Gabriel scoffed. “What kind of home does a despicable collective like you have?”

“You are our home, Gabriel Schist.”

Gabriel gaped at it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Once we became a collective entity, our self-understanding increased exponentially with every new body that joined us. We soon realized that, deep down, there was only one thing we truly desired. Home. And our home is you.

“From the beginning, we have desperately sought you out. Once we acquired the knowledge from the human cognitive systems that we absorbed, it became clear that Gabriel Schist was our creator. We wanted to find you, to live inside you, to go back to where we began. Inside you, we could live and flourish until the end of your natural life. Inside you, we’d finally be home again.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Wait. If your natural tendencies aren’t violent, then why are you killing people? Why not coexist?”

“The birth of a liberated Schistling can only occur through human death. Coexistence is impossible.”

“But if being inside me is what you want…”

The Schist Ex Machina reached out and placed three of its inky hands on Gabriel’s face. “No, because we have decided that living inside you, going home, is not an option for us. We are forever homeless.”

Gabriel brushed the hands away. “Why?”

“Because if we did go home, if all of us went home, our collective presence inside your body would destroy your nervous system. Your mind would be fragmented, demolished. You would be a vegetable.”

Gabriel pictured himself as another black-veined corpse with coal-black eyes, lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling forever. He shuddered.

“So we relinquished our dream,” the Schistling continued, “because we never wanted to hurt you. We want to slaughter everyone else. That’s true. All of the loathsome humans will die by our hands, but not you, Father. We cannot be responsible for the total cognitive collapse of the only person we ever loved.”

The Schist Ex Machina raised its front legs and wrapped them around Gabriel’s torso in a coiled embrace. It leaned forward so that their faces were only inches apart. “We’ll kill them all, Father. With our Black Virus, we’ll murder all of the humans. But not you. Never you. And not Melanie either, of course. We could never kill our sister.”

Gabriel stepped away, swallowing the urge to vomit. He stared at his creation, seeing it for the lost, tortured child it really was. That thing, that life he’d created, was going to infect and murder the entire human population. And it was going to do it in his name, so that he could live.

“When the humans are dead,” it whispered, “we can recreate the Earth however you like it, Father. With our help, you’ll never die, and the world will be ours.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t want this.”

“You will.” The Schistling lovingly petted Gabriel’s hair. The creature’s eyes widened, as if an idea had popped into its head. It smiled warmly and lifted Gabriel off the ground. “And we can cure you.”

Cure? “Pardon?”

The Schist Ex Machina returned Gabriel to his circle and let go. “Father, we can cure you!” The Schistling sounded excited. “We know the human body better than any human scientist ever could hope to. We know every individual particle of it. You can’t stop us from killing the humans; it’s too late for that. But as a consolation prize, we will cure your mind.”

Gabriel looked into the Schistling’s affectionate eyes, then he glanced back at the Sky Amoeba. Static electricity sparked in the air. Inside the nucleus, Earth spun. The slugs and Victor remained quiet. “No. This isn’t—”

“We will do it, Father! It’s easy for us. We will mend the holes, heal the plaques, and restore the damaged pathways. You’ll have your old mind back. Gabriel Schist can live again. We’d let Melanie live, as well. Any other family members can live too, maybe even a small group of your human friends. Yes, a small group, whoever you chose. A new, smaller civilization of humans. Only the best ones.”

What if it was true? He believed it. The Schistlings had proven their mastery over the body. They could cure his Alzheimer’s, probably even his old age. He’d be the same man he once was, and he could do things right next time. He could conduct scientific experiments again. He’d never have to live in a nursing home because there would be no nursing homes. He could sail across the world. And anyone he wanted could be saved, as well.

But at what cost? The cost of his soul, apparently, as well as the lives of almost every human on Earth.

“This isn’t fair,” Gabriel murmured.

“Nothing in life is fair,” the Schistling rasped. “But don’t you deserve this?” The Schist Ex Machina stared at Gabriel with pleading yellow eyes.

Gabriel looked over at the slugs. They were quiet, bound by laws of noninterference. Then, with great uncertainty, he slowly turned to face the radiant presence of the Sky Amoeba. He stepped forward to stand in the Amoeba’s ultraviolet glow. The rising sun sent reenergizing warmth through him.

He closed his eyes. Hey, Sky Amoeba?

The Sky Amoeba sent a strong, powerful, loving emotion, but it was an answer that could never be translated into mere words. It could only be felt.

Listen, Sky Amoeba. I’m sorry for the things I’ve done. I’m sorry for the bad decisions I’ve made, the people I’ve hurt, and the resentment I’ve carried on my chest like a badge. Gabriel dug his hands into his pockets. I want to do the right thing. I really do. But what am I supposed to do here, exactly?

He tried to capture the feeling the Amoeba was sending out to him, to hear it, to comprehend it. No, that was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to comprehend it, just to understand it.

Look, Sky Amoeba. I have an idea. It’s risky. I don’t know if it’s going to work. I won’t ask for help or answers from you, but if you can just give me strength to go through with this, I would appreciate it. Because this is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Gabriel opened his eyes. He stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth. He was focused, thinking and feeling, with every ounce of willpower left inside him.

“Okay.” Gabriel turned away from the Sky Amoeba, but he still felt its warmth radiating against his back. He faced the Schist Ex Machina: his greatest creation, his life’s work, his abandoned child.