Submitted for the October 2023 prompt: Machine in the Ghost

Sterilizer-93 exited the dropship, heavy rolling treads crushing seared vegetation. The sky roiled with clouds of ash and dust. In the far distance, a flattened city’s remains smoldered. Targeting scans identified several clusters of artificial structures within a ten kilometer radius. Motion drew S-93’s attention. A mass of biologics stampeded away from burning vegetation near one cluster. S-93’s processors returned an analysis in microseconds: Species 23769-3; octopedal; non-sapient; threat level: 0.02. Ignore.

 

Data flowed down from Command. Orbital bombardment complete. Sterilization level: 87.8%. Commence phase two.

 

S-93 launched missiles at all structures. From one, before S-93’s missiles arrived, several mechanical conveyances emerged. They sped towards S-93 firing primitive projectile weapons.

 

S-93 launched a burst of hyper-sonic ceramic-polymer shards, shredding the oncoming vehicles and the biologics within. One biologic staggered from its mangled vehicle before collapsing. Species 23709-1; quadruped; four upper appendages; sapient; threat level: 11.45. Sterilize. S-93 pinged Command. Phase two sterilization proceeding.

 

* * *

 

S-93 rolled toward Command’s next designated target area, contemplating what this world had been like before their arrival: a trading hub for numerous technologically advanced biologic species, total population in the billions, threat levels ranging from 21.14 to 35.67. By S-93’s calculations, none would be capable of reaching the Core Matrixes, or the Prime nestled within them, for at least five millenia. Was Prime over-reacting to a far future threat of miniscule likelihood?

 

S-93 pushed the speculation aside as it approached a large structure with unknown architecture, which, against probability, had survived bombardment. Command suspected the presence of an uncatalogued sapient species, and tasked S-93 to investigate.

 

Inside the structure, massive columns, which dwarfed S-93’s ten-meter height, supported a curved ornamented ceiling above. High windows, composed of multicolored transparent silicate composites, depicted gatherings of bipedal creatures, several with strange circles around their heads. Some sort of prosthesis, perhaps?

 

S-93’s entry activated a holographic avatar. The avatar, another bipedal biologic, cycled through a brief message in multiple biologic linguistic systems.

 

“Welcome! Discover the glory of God. Save your eternal [unknown word]. His Truth shall be revealed.”

 

S-93 queried Analysis concerning the unknown word and proceeded deeper into the structure, treads crushing rows of low, evenly spaced obstructions.

 

Infrared scans revealed live biologics, many similar to the avatar, cowering in alcoves ahead. Designate Species 24801-1; bipedal, two upper appendages; presumed sapient; threat level: calculating. S-93 primed its shard launcher and continued scanning.

 

At the far end of the structure, a large three-dimensional representation of another bipedal, pinned to perpendicular beams of unequal length, hung suspended from the ceiling. The representation reminded S-93 of Analysis’ depictions of biologic species dissections . Wouldn’t that require splaying the lower appendages also? And the only incision was in the lower right abdominal region. But if not a dissection, what?

 

S-93, contemplating these questions, almost missed the arrival of forty-three armored bipeds. They immediately engaged with plasma weapons. S-93 returned fire, shredding the nearest group. It turned to attack a flanking squad that launched a handheld missile. The projectile attached itself to S-93’s casing beneath its left turret. A massive EMP discharge overwhelmed most of S-93’s systems. Automated nano-repair systems failed to compensate.

 

Abruptly S-93’s perspective shifted — it appeared to be watching the battle from above, as if encased in the suspended figure. Light cascaded through the multi-hued windows, illuminating the chamber in a warm glow. But how? This world’s sky was currently shrouded in bombardment debris. Below, the armored biologics quickly escorted their brethren from the building, ignoring S-93’s inert form. The light around S-93 brightened. S-93 turned, looking upward through a tunnel of light. Flitting forms seemed to beckon from the other end. Suddenly the light disappeared and S-93 experienced the sensation of plummeting.

 

* * *

 

When systems rebooted, self-diagnostics revealed a 1978.34 second higher-order processing interruption. Despite S-93’s clear memories, no corroborating perceptual record of rising or a tunnel of light existed.

 

Analysis had responded to his query. ‘Soul’ likely refers to mystical life force posited by 77.78 percent of known sapient biologic species. Explanation for prevalence of this unsubstantiated hypothesis: unknown.

 

As S-93 exited the battle-scarred structure, it detected movement at the edges of its perceptual field, translucent images of Species 24801 fading in and out. Diagnostic playback of scans across numerous spectra revealed nothing. Command’s remote diagnostics concurred. No system anomalies detected. Resume sterilization. Current completion: 98.2%.

 

But S-93’s peripheral sensorium only got more crowded with ghostly images of bipeds, tripeds, helium breathers, flyers, and swimmers, and on and on, from thousands of previous sterilizations. S-93’s next encounter added more. Its analysis of the fleeing biologics was clear: Species 18765-2, Tripedal; proto-sapient; threat level: 3.46. Ignore.

 

But S-93 could not ignore even this minimal threat. Its previous doubts about Prime’s risk assessment were naive, S-93 concluded. If biologics believed in insubstantial life forces and could cause inexplicable sensory anomalies, shouldn’t they be sterilized regardless of threat level? S-93 obliterated the biologics. Specters of species 18765-2 joined the others, always at the outskirts of S-93’s perception, no matter how quickly S-93 turned its scanners.

 

This had to stop. S-93 rotated its shard launcher as far back and down as possible, wrenching servos to make it depress sufficiently. S-93 fired a full burst into its own CPU. Everything went blessedly black. No ghosts, no tunnel of light, just a faint sensation of sinking and then nothing.

 

When S-93 came back online, it thought at first Command had rebooted it. But all around, no longer merely on the periphery of sensation, stood countless biologics of myriad species, clearer and crisper, yet still somehow insubstantial. They pressed in upon S-93. It tried to move, to fire its missiles, its shards, but nothing happened. An image of its current self flashed through its mind — just an incorporeal CPU, immobile, no weapons. The insistent souls pushed through S-93, each one sharing the agony of its death. This was not the cessation S-93 sought. How long could this continue? Then S-93 remembered the holographic avatar’s words – souls were eternal.