by Jason Taylor
“Target confirmed. Time to target will be sixty-eight seconds from the time of launch.”
He closed his eyes for a moment and the console in front of him lit up, a red circle illuminated in the middle of it. He pressed his thumb to the ring for a moment until it turned green.
“Command codes verified. Biometrics confirmed,” Captain Walsh said. “Proceeding to launch.”
He pressed his thumb once more on the green circle.
June could feel a slight rumble as one of the missile hatches opened, flooding the tube with water. A moment later the booster rocket ignited, and with a roar that reverberated through her feet and back, the missile shot upward, out of the sub, through the intervening water, and into the open air.
After the powerful roar, the sub seemed unusually calm and quiet. June looked to the captain. “That’s it? It’ll hit Hanford for sure?”
“Yes. Within a minute from now, the site will be destroyed.”
“I guess that’s good. It’s too bad I didn’t get to talk with Jill though,” June said, looking sad. ”But I’m sure there are other interesting people I can talk to.”
“June, I figured out how to access the ship’s database,” Elizabeth broke in. “It has a lot of information in it, both military and civilian. It’s one of the best data sources I’ve found. Would you like take a look?”
“Oh yes, that would be lovely,” June said, happy again.
June was engrossed in an examination of the history of the Great Unrest when Ava interrupted her thoughts.
“June, I’ve got something you’ll want to see,” she said.
“Ok, I’ll be right there,” June said. She finished consuming a treatise on the role of income inequality in the conditions leading up to the Great Unrest and then triggered her interface to join the virtual room Ava had set up inside the submarine’s node.
“What is it?” she asked
“Icarus is on. He’s reacting to what we did,” Ava answered.
“Ooh, that should be interesting. Let’s watch,” June said, settling onto a red, leather couch with the other clones.
An image of Icarus appeared floating in front of them, his pale blue eyes flashing fire. June leaned forward, she didn’t want to miss a single thing.
“What we have seen today is a consequence of the government ignoring my warnings,” Icarus growled. “They have ignored the wisdom I offered them, and in so doing they may have doomed us all. Even now a plume of deadly radiation and sun-choking dust is spreading eastward across the Midwest, toward the East Coast.”
“That’s so cool,” June murmured.
“The power of these clones,” Icarus leaned in toward the camera, “these young girls, could have been harnessed for the greater good of all humankind. Instead, because of the shortsightedness of our generals and politicians, we are cursed with war.”
“Do you think he knows that our originals are dead?” June whispered. “That’ll be a surprise.”
“Shhh!” Suki hissed at her. “He’s talking about war. I want to hear what he’s saying.”
“I’ve learned that the clones have control of a nuclear stealth submarine. From that platform, they can rain death and destruction upon any city on Earth. No one is safe,” Icarus said, his voice growing in volume and power.
“I like this guy,” June said quietly to herself, casting a sidelong glance at Suki.
“There is only one solution, only one thing we can do,” Icarus intoned.
“We can passively accept the new situation and watch as our governments grovel like dogs, exposing their bellies, capitulating to each and every demand these clones make,” he started.
“Ooh, I do like him,” June said again.
“Or we can rise up against those who are guilty of such gross betrayal. Rise up against our so-called leaders and turn, every single one of us, turn to face this new threat, spending every last drop of our blood in the annihilation of these clones that so threaten us. The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. In this moment, we have patriots and tyrants aplenty. The tree of liberty will flourish from a deluge of blood the likes of which history has never seen, or it will topple, destroyed in righteous fire.”
“Does that mean he’s our enemy then?” June asked.
Ava looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
Elizabeth sat back, looking thoughtful.
Suki leaned forward, gaze fixed on Icarus, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Part 4
Chapter 35
Gaea: 2311
Jillian woke up inside her simulation pod, gasping and coughing for air, her chest heaving from the sudden effort of breathing. Her eyes fluttered open as she became conscious of a soft, white glowing light surrounding her.
“Do not try to move. Allow yourself time to become aware of your surroundings. With patience your former memories will return,” a comforting, genderless voice advised her.
She closed her eyes and focused her awareness into her body, feeling each individual part, checking in with who she was; where she was; what she was.
Her emotions from the final moments in World Zero were still so strong. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks where they were absorbed by the supportive gel-fabric that cradled her head.
She held her life as Jill in her mind. It was like a precious jewel, another life completed. The time she had spent as Jill had extended the boundaries of her wisdom, and would help her in her quest toward the perfection of her soul.
She issued a command, requesting the date.
“December 3rd, 2311,” the automated voice responded.
That was a surprise. She wasn’t supposed to come out of her session until December 5th, which meant she had returned two full days early. Due to the difference in timelines, two days in Gaea was the equivalent of nearly thirty years in World Zero. Apparently, her character Jill had died much earlier than the scenario had called for.
Her brow furrowed as additional memories flooded in. Her true-memories on Gaea, joined by hundreds of previous simulated lives that she had lived in World Zero during previous sessions. Each of her simulated lives had been rich in learning and filled with incredible relationships, but she couldn’t remember a single previous session, not a single simulated life, that had ever ended before the scenario had specified.
She had to admit that the session as Jill had been incredible, probably the best she had ever experienced. The work in the lab. The clones. The partnership with Tros and the dramatic struggle they had been a part of. Even the nuclear strike at the end. What a way to go out!
She wondered how the other players in World Zero were doing right now. She was sure that everyone would be impacted by the nuclear warheads that had detonated in Eastern Washington. Hopefully, it wasn’t making their sessions too painful. She wondered briefly if the simulation had allowed an all-out nuclear war to break out, but then she discarded the thought. Ike would never let that happen.
The fact that she had died earlier than expected was concerning though. The life path you chose for your time in the simulation was sacrosanct. She had spent a great deal of time deciding what she wanted to accomplish, and what she wanted to learn during the session. Much of what she’d configured had actually played out, but not all of it. For instance, she had become a research scientist focused on genetics, which matched what she had described in the session requirements. But many of her other requirements hadn’t come to pass. Her life in World Zero had been cut off early it seemed, and she had lost an entire simulated future because of it.
She issued a command for the pod to open. With a soft hush, the seal broke and the support-system lifted her up and out. She waited for the tell-tale click of the synaptic harness to break free from her head, and then she stepped forward into the waiting robe.
Deft robotic arms placed folds of cloth over her, the ends merging to form a single drape of fabric. She lifted her arms and admired the glistening shimmer. She’d
missed this. Well, not really, since she couldn’t have remembered anything about Gaea while she was inside World Zero. But when she thought about herself in the simulation, she could imagine missing it.
She sank her toes into the soft floor and issued a command for fresh slipper-boots. Fibers writhed around her feet, connecting at the top of her foot and the back of her heel, flattening as they did so. When she took a step, the footwear tore gently away from the floor, covering her feet and ankles, leaving them warm and protected.
She stood in a round room roughly one hundred feet in diameter, shorter vertically than horizontally like a squashed sphere. Around the periphery, continuing in concentric rings nearly to the center of the room, were the simulation pods. Most of the pods were glowing red, indicating they were occupied and in use by citizens. The pod she had emerged from glowed green behind her, indicating that it was ready for the next player. This room was one of hundreds in the enormous simulation compound, which was one of thousands of simulation compounds spread throughout the city. The population of World Zero was expanding exponentially as Gaea’s citizens flocked to experience the simulation lifestyle. It was becoming hugely popular, and as a result simulation compounds were springing up throughout New Seattle, like mushrooms after a fresh rain.
In the center of the simulation room was an elevated lounging area, populated by citizens who were in between sessions. There were refreshments available and it was possible to observe simulation playbacks from the perspective of any player you were interested in following. Jillian walked through the rings of pods and up the small ramp to the lounge, on the way toward the exit.
“Hello Jill, good session?” a man asked from one of the couches. He had blue scales tracing intricate patterns up his forearms, disappearing under his sleeves, only to re-emerge at his collar and climb up his neck onto his scalp. He had thick red hair and a shaggy beard, set off by startlingly green eyes.
Jillian searched her memories for who he was. It took a moment before she remembered: Jarek, an old friend from the simulation group she’d joined in the early days. Her mind obviously hadn’t completely returned to the real world yet.
“It was… interesting,” she said, frowning slightly. She was still trying to figure out if she should complain to Ike about her early return.
“Oh, that sounds juicy. Do tell!” Jarek said.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing.” Jillian paused, trying to decide how much she wanted to say. “The simulation broke out of my session requirements during the session. I’ve never had that happen before.”
“Me neither,” Jarek said, standing. “What happened?”
Several other heads turned in their direction. Jillian wasn’t sure if she wanted the added attention, but she could understand why they were be curious.
“I was returned too early. A couple of decades early, actually.”
“I’m sure you can get your credits returned for the lost time.”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s just that… well, there were other strange things too,” Jillian said. “For instance, I was supposed to have a child, and raise her using the neurological principles I’d learned in my genetics research. I specifically remember configuring that scenario, but it didn’t happen before my character died.”
“Perhaps it would have if you’d stayed in longer.”
“Perhaps.” Jillian thought for a moment. “There was a problem with a group of clones during my session. Clones that I helped create. The fallout resulting from that development is why I died early.”
“Clones? That’s unusual. I didn’t think the simulation allowed cloning.” Jarek shared the same revulsion that all citizens held for cloning. “Was there anyone in the simulation with you that you can talk with now? Maybe they have a perspective that would help you integrate your experiences?” Jarek asked.
“Trace was with me at the end. I could talk to him I guess. I wonder if he was returned early from World Zero too?” Jillian mused.
“That would be troubling, if he was. It could indicate a systemic problem.”
“I guess it could. Also, there were these dreams. They were…” Jillian started to talk and suddenly felt uncomfortable. She wasn’t ready to discuss that part of her experience with Jarek.
“What is it?” Jarek asked, taking both of her hands in his, those brilliant green eyes probing.
“I don’t understand everything that happened to me. I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” she said.
Jillian slipped away from a concerned looking Jarek and walked to the exit. She needed some time to clear her head. Then she would find Trace and together they would decide if she should talk to Ike. Perhaps they could even speak to him together. She wondered if Trace was out yet. If not, she’d wait for him – it couldn’t be more than a couple of days.
The simulation compound opened onto one of the central thoroughfares in Downtown New Seattle. Above her head was a sign with the simulator’s motto, “Each life, something new. Every lesson, soul’s progress.” It was this philosophy that had drawn her into the simulation lifestyle in the first place. It gave her a chance to live a multitude of simulated lifetimes in the space of a single real life; an opportunity to achieve a higher level of perfection in self-awareness and world-knowledge than had ever been attainable before.
The World Zero simulation was an enormously expensive undertaking. Every structure on the planet had been converted to quantum computation – the atoms harnessed into an enormous computer for the sole purpose of creating a simulated universe suitable for human habitation. Whenever anything new was constructed on Gaea, its atoms were entangled with existing material, wrapping it into the computation engine, each qubit adding to the dynamic superposition that made World Zero possible.
She’d learned recently that computational limits had been reached using man-made materials and so efforts were now underway to convert all of the natural matter on the planet to quantum computation as well. It was as if there was a shadow world that existed just outside her perception, people living and dying, empires rising and falling, cataclysmic world events, all contained within the subatomic world around her. The simulated world suffused the real world, and when she entered the simulation, she got to live inside that world too. It was awe-inspiring.
Some citizens put their resources into body-modifications. Others put their resources into using the simulation. Some, like Jarek, were wealthy enough to do both. She wasn’t rich, so she poured everything she had into the simulation. She initiated new sessions as often as the her mind would allow. Integration of the experience, assimilation of the new memories, that was the hard part. Her mind could only hold so much, and it could only grow at a fixed rate, so she was limited. She’d augmented her mind, of course, as there was no way her natural-mind could have met all her needs. Still, she often wished for more. Then she reminded herself to be grateful for what she had; envy didn’t help her soul’s progress.
She stood on First and Pike, opening her senses to all that was around her. The buildings pulsed with light and sound, music flowing through and around her. She could feel the joy of it through the soles of her feet where they connected with the ground, through her fingertips as they brushed the undulating organic shapes surrounding her. A flare of color swelled in the base of a building across the street. In a crescendo of music, syncopation, and harmony the light intensified, throbbing as it rose upward, flowing in lazy arcs to the top of the building until it burst into the sky.
This, she thought, is home. The simulation was wonderful, but it lacked the vibrancy, the fidelity, the overwhelming sense of connection that the real world offered. She knew that simulating an entire universe was an incredible undertaking, and there were physical limits to the computational power available. Even if the entire real world was converted to quantum computation, the simulation still could never be made as real as reality.
The time she’d spent in the Seattle of the 21st century had been worthwhile, but it had been grim: the
cold steel and concrete structures, the ongoing repercussions from the Great Unrest, the lack of organic life… the overall lack of connection. She hadn’t known what she had been missing while she’d been inside the simulation. She couldn’t have, because she was blocked from remembering her life here. But maybe some part of her had felt the loss. She wrestled with what she had experienced there. Those strange dreams, seemingly pulled directly from Gaea, had been so confusing to Jill. Jillian still wasn’t sure what they signified. Surely there couldn’t have been data leakage between the simulation and the real world?
She checked for Trace and found him immediately. He was exiting a simulation compound less than a mile away, so he must have been returned early too. She felt relieved that they would be able to talk today.
Jillian issued a command to the ground, then she relaxed her stance, staying loose to maintain her balance as it lifted her up in a gentle wave, propelling her toward Trace.
“Hold up Trace,” she transmitted. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 36
Jillian caught up with Trace at the top of Regent’s Hill on the corner of Howe and Queen Anne. He was sitting on a bench that had been grown from the ground and then formed to fit his small frame. As soon as she saw him, Jillian released her connection to the ground-wave, landed gracefully on her feet, and rushed forward to engulf him in a warm embrace.
She held him at arm’s length, inspecting him, re-remembering all the small details of him. He was diminutive, just a few inches over five feet tall, with a sharp bird-like face. His bright yellow eyes burned with intelligence and avid curiosity.
“I’m happy to see you, Trace.”
“It is my pleasure, completely,” he replied, smiling.
She laughed and gave him another hug before placing her arm over his shoulder. “Where to?” she asked.
“Let’s get some coffee. I’ve been asleep too long in that damned simulation. I need to remember what it feels like to be awake.”