Neurotopia

by Tony Mohorovich

  Unlikely, Okiro thought, and the look on Foster’s face mirrored the sentiment. Okiro addressed the maya. ‘Scanners, identify the patient.’

  ​3:5

  As a child, Sky had a recurring nightmare, one that would occasionally revisit her in adulthood. It was about a force—a thing—that lay on her chest as she slept. The thing never took a physical form, yet she recognized its quality—it was herself. It was Sky. Or a Sky. Once she recognized it, the thing would begin to change, to become someone else… another Sky, then another… it was like losing and finding yourself over and over again, never stable, never still. Forever adrift. It would become heavier and heavier… pushing down so hard that she thought her lungs would collapse under the weight and she would sink through the bed and crash through the floors below.

  Sky woke with a start. It was dark. She was no longer sitting against the front door, cradled in her mother’s arms, but lying on something soft… a bed… her own bed.

  < You’ve only slept ten minutes, ma’am. I can help you sleep a little longer, if you like? > Uncle Jesse’s voice had a timbre as rich as an ancient oak. It was soothing, just as Sky had programmed him to be.

  If she had only slept ten minutes, it was still morning. Her mother must have tinted the windows black.

  Sky sat up. Her head throbbed with the programming hangover. She recalled the backlog of scanning cases and forced herself out of bed.

  Shielding her eyes from the sudden light in the living room, she shuffled to her office. On the way there she knocked her knee against something. The something thudded on the floor from the impact. It was her mother’s old travel luggage.

  Great time to start spring cleaning, Ma, Sky thought, rubbing her knee.

  Her mother stood outside her bedroom, arms folded.

  ‘You’re up already?’ her mother asked with concern.

  ‘I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘Please don’t go in there again, Sky.’ Winona’s face hung in disappointment as only a mother’s face could. ‘The world’s right here,’ she said, pointing to the source of the harsh sunlight. ‘Everyone is here while you’re locked away day and night, roaming around in their heads. Sometimes I think you’d sim your own mother if you had the chance.’

  ‘Ma, that’s ridiculous. Come on, we can talk about this later. I’ve got a ton of work this weekend.’

  Winona moved closer, her dark eyes glistening. She placed her palms on Sky’s cheeks. ‘It’s partly my fault,’ her mother said with a gentle certainty. ‘I helped you become dependent. But you can’t spend the rest of your forties like this. Don’t waste your youth. It’s time, dear. Even for you, it’s time.’ There was an unusual finality in her tone.

  ‘What do you mean, it’s time?’ Sky said, dreading the response. ‘Time for what?’

  ‘I’ve been talking to Doctor Aquino…’ her mother began in a low voice, ‘… about your condition.’

  ‘Ma—’

  ‘Dr. Aquino says your programming should have made more of an impact by now.’

  ‘Ma—’

  ‘We decided it would be best if you were a little more… independent.’

  Sky’s perception of the world took on a surreal quality, and she wondered—hoped—that she was actually inside one of Dr. Aquino’s psychological sims, testing her limits.

  < It’s no sim, ma’am. >

  Sky’s heart sank. ‘How will I get better if I’m alone? Ma, please—’

  ‘I’m not your mother, dear. I’m an excuse.’

  Sky felt the words like a body blow. It took her a few moments to get her breath back.

  In the meantime, her mother had taken hold of her hands. The woman’s eyes were soft, worn, and heavy. They almost smiled this time. ‘I won’t be here forever, dear. Whether you like it or not, one day you’ll be on your own. I want you to be ready.’

  I’ll never be ready.

  Her mother took a breath, preparing for something. ‘This is where I’ll be staying,’ she said, motioning to the surrounding air as if a maya hung there.

  Sky saw nothing. ‘Your maya’s on private again, Ma.’

  ‘Oh, I hate these bloody things,’ Winona said, exasperated. ‘How’s a woman supposed to know what’s in her head and what’s not? I really don’t see how artificial hallucinations can be healthy. I never had these problems with holos.’

  ‘Just ask your Brain Operating System to make it public—’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  A moment later the images appeared; quaint units sitting among manicured lawns, tennis courts, and golf courses. Then Sky spotted the location…

  ‘Thailand?’

  ‘Dr. Aquino said the distance would facilitate your independence.’

  ‘There are perfectly good homes here in Detroit.’

  Her mother ignored the comment. ‘And maybe, if all goes well, I might finally get a chance to take that space cruise. Perhaps even a tour of the Moon. If I can’t pass on my savings to you when I die, I might as well enjoy them.’

  The seriousness of the proposal tore something from Sky. She had no idea what it was, but she knew she had to have it back. Her mother had to put it back.

  ‘I’m getting better,’ Sky pleaded.

  Her mother responded with a look that was part sympathy, part sorrow… it was pity.

  Sky wanted to run. She fought the urge to turn on her jogging sim and instead she ran around in her mind, in circles, while her mother picked up her luggage and wheeled it to the front door.

  Before Sky had time to process her actions, she had leapt over the sofa and grabbed hold of the luggage with such force that she tore a portion of its maroon lining. Her mother gasped, ‘Sky!’

  Sky just raised her forefinger, demanding silence, then marched to the door.

  < Ma’am, your cortisol levels are— >

  Sky did not care, Turn the freaking mood alerts off, Uncle Jesse, and calm me the hell down before my heart pops.

  Ever the ally, Uncle Jesse responded, < Neurosedative on its way, ma’am. >

  Sky began to disappear inside her skin, a little further from the world. The pounding of her heart faded to a more tolerable level.

  < Sorry ma’am, that’s all the sedative I can give you. >

  Sky glanced back at her mother who stood beside the torn luggage, a confused expression across her face.

  < You can do this, ma’am, > Uncle Jesse whispered.

  Sky pulled her hood over her head for good measure. ‘I’m going for a run, Ma…’ Sky thordered the door open, ‘… outside. In the real world.’

  The door swung open. Wide open.

  The springtime sun poured in through the corridor’s window wall to warm her skin. ‘I’m going to puke,’ she muttered to herself.

  < Anti-nausea stim on its way, ma’am. >

  A single expletive repeated in Sky’s mind.

  Sky stepped into the doorway.

  She froze.

  The thing held her back. That thing on her chest, screaming, No, danger, death! That thing that made no sense. It was as if it had a mind of its own. As if she were two-in-one, and her other half was intent on preventing her every attempt at normality.

  Emotions are chains and engines.

  Sky had learned that much from her years observing others’ minds. For some, their emotions were engines, motivating them to pursue and reach their desires. For others, whose programming barely scratched the surface, their emotions were chains, holding them back. For these unlucky few, it was a daily bloody war. Each dawn demanded resources, strategy, fear, sacrifice, blood, and loss. Each day filled with unenviable options of bad and worse. And even then, after all that, the rewards of success were but a handful of raindrops in a drought.

  But this time would be different.

  Sky stepped into the corridor for the first time in… years? It had indeed been years.

  She felt a surge of energy, but it was not fear. Perhaps the latest programming had worked? Perhaps she had finally got over the hump, a
fter all the climbing and falling and climbing again?

  < One step at a time, ma’am, just like the good doctor ordered. >

  She was in the corridor. The world stood still around her. She saw movement in the distance, past the windowed wall, on the far side of the atrium, on a balcony… the movement of another human being, a boy…

  Her chest squeezed. She could hear her breath moving, in and out, through her teeth.

  A boy. A real human. What was it about the presence of a stranger that caused her body to sway this way and that against her will?

  Sky remained steadfast. She would prove to her mother that she was on the mend. She glanced back with a proud smile.

  Winona stood at the entrance, hand on her heart, her free hand shaking.

  But it was something other than Sky that had caught Winona’s eye. Something over Sky’s shoulder, through the corridor’s transparent walls.

  Sky turned to see it for herself.

  Out there in the atrium, something fell from a balcony. Then, from another balcony, another thing fell. And another.

  Sky stepped toward the window and focused her vision. She realized the falling objects were not things at all; they were people.

  Plummeting…

  A child. The boy. Over the railing. He let go just before his guardian could grab him. He let go, but as he did, his other arm reached out for the adult, as if part of him was desperate to hold on. But it was too late. Uncaring gravity did the rest.

  A child shouldn’t fall like that, Sky thought. It’s unnatural. She had to steady herself against the transparent wall.

  The child stopped falling all of a sudden. The way he had stopped was unnatural too, as if time itself had frozen. He lay there on the ground, like the others around him, in an atrium stained with red.

  Sky’s body trembled. She whispered something, like an afterthought:

  ‘We’ve been hacked.’

  ​3:6

  ‘Ma,’ Sky cried. ‘It’s a hack. Get off the net.’

  Sky disconnected herself from the Neuronet. She spun for the apartment. Her mother stood mute in the doorway.

  ‘Get off the net, Ma,’ Sky bustled her inside. ‘Ask your BOS to disconnect you.’

  Her mother nodded, ‘Okay, okay, Sky, it’s done,’ she said, shaking.

  Sky closed her eyes and let out a breath in relief, her hands still clasping her mother’s shoulders.

  Sky heard cries in the distance. Unable to bear the screams, she thordered the door closed. Just as it was about to shut, the door froze in place.

  Whirr-tap.

  Sky thought the sound had come from the door, perhaps its mechanics were on the blink. She approached it with a hand extended to push it shut, but as she did, something began to materialize before her. She jumped back.

  The fabric of space seemed to part until a human figure became visible. It was the old man—the telepath… the brainbender. His head was hairless. His face, perhaps once a healthy brown, had a grayish tinge, likely the result of outdated life-extension procedures. Sky saw no sign that he was a maya.

  ‘Hello, again,’ he said to Sky. The door shut and the automated curtains began to close on the living room’s windowed vista of Detroit city.

  ‘Do you know this man?’ Sky’s mother asked her.

  Before Sky could answer, the old man said, ‘Winona, you should rest.’ With that, her mother’s eyes rolled back into white and her legs lost their strength. Sky half caught, half cushioned, her mother’s fall, and laid her on the floor.

  ‘What have you done to her?’ Sky said, checking her mother’s breathing.

  ‘She’s merely asleep.’

  Sky’s fear turned to anger, ‘I don’t know how you have been able to avoid Detroit security, but right now the scanners are reading my thoughts and seeing you through my eyes. The NIA will be here any minute.’

  The old man waved a hand in a dismissive manner, ‘The scanners believe you and your mother fell asleep before I arrived. I have manipulated your brain signals to provide the scanners with false data.’

  How could he possibly hide another person’s brain signals from the scanners? Was this another one of his hacks? Or was he lying?

  It did not matter, for this decaying telepath had made a basic error. The apartment had miniature cameras in the walls and ceiling which provided footage for maya communications. Sky had only to thorder the cameras to send footage to the authorities and they would learn of the telepath’s presence.

  But for some reason Sky could not understand, she was unable to give the thorder. Every time she tried, her mind went blank and she could not complete the thought.

  ‘This decaying telepath does not make basic errors,’ the old man said. He shut his eyes. ‘You did well to find me, if only for a moment, I will give you that much. But your interference has resulted in a noose tightening around my neck much sooner than I had anticipated. You have forced my hand in ways I had hoped to avoid.’

  A thud-thud-thudding came from somewhere outside. Perhaps a hopper. It must have been close because Sky could feel the reverberations under her feet.

  The brainbender said, ‘However, I do think it fortunate that you, of all people, were the one to locate me, given your father’s position.’

  Her father? He must mean Jeong-soo Tester.

  ‘A father,’ the telepath continued, ‘is less likely to order a drone strike on a location occupied by his daughter.’

  I wouldn’t bet on it, Sky thought. The telepath indulged in a quiet chuckle.

  ‘So I’m your human shield?’ she said.

  ‘Until my legacy is complete.’

  Sky had no idea what he was talking about. She checked on her mother. She was still breathing. Sky wondered what was going on outside, if it was indeed this brainbender who was responsible for the suicides. Who else? The thought of this man observing the contents of her mind made her sick to her stomach.

  The brainbender’s eyes sprung open. His frame whirred into action and he headed for the door. ‘It’s done,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘I won’t leave her,’ Sky said, clinging to her mother.

  ‘She will be safe as long as you do what I say,’ his voice crackled.

  ‘You think I’m going to shield you after you’ve hacked innocent people?’

  You have no choice, he said, but his lips did not move.

  Sky recoiled at the sound of this man in her thoughts. She was a forty-six-year-old child, utterly helpless, nowhere to hide, not even in her mind.

  There came a curious sensation, as if tentacles were rummaging around her scalp. She felt a spike of fear, then anger, then revulsion. The feelings diminished and she floated—or she felt as if she were floating—just above her head. Her body went numb. Her right leg took a step forward even though she had not had the intention to do so. Her left leg followed.

  Sky searched for a way back into her body. A shot of pain coursed through her, as if the tentacles had just severed a nerve.

  Uncle Jesse, she screamed, help.

  There was no answer.

  Her body was about to take another step when she forced herself back into her flesh, regaining control. It took all her focus to stay there; it was like holding a balloon underwater with one hand.

  The telepath turned around to look at her. He seemed surprised. Perhaps intrigued. Keep resisting like that and your mother will never wake, he told her.

  That was enough to convince Sky, so she did as he commanded. She would not have held him off much longer anyway. Her body moved to his rhythm as she walked to the front door.

  That’s better.

  The telepath wore a dark backpack. It began to melt around him, like a shifting wall of black tar. It sucked so much light that it appeared two-dimensional. She had seen footage of such a thing; it was a military swarm. It looked as unnatural in person as it had on maya.

  As the swarm covered the telepath’s body it began to dissolve into the environment until the telepath disappeared from
sight.

  Come.

  Though she could not see him, she somehow sensed his location. She followed him into the corridor. He whirrr-tapped faster now.

  Sky looked out through the window wall and into the atrium. Two human-sized streaks dropped past the window, on their way to the ground.

  At the end of the corridor, the elevator doors opened and Neuroprogramming Officer Okiro Mohammed-Levi leapt out.

  ‘Sky?’ he called.

  She had never seen him like this, without a barrier to separate them. She was sufficiently numb not to care.

  Sky heard a window shatter somewhere behind her. In an instant, the telepath’s swarm slid off his body, revealing his exoskeleton-clad frame once more. A part of the swarm grabbed Okiro and threw him past Sky, sending him sprawling down the corridor. Another part wrapped around Sky’s torso, lifted her off her feet and spun her around.

  Sky saw what the telepath had reacted to; at the other end of the corridor stood a figure in black battle armor, his tinted visor gleaming in the sunlight. A swarm swirled at his feet. Four other figures leapt into the corridor through a shattered window. These were covered head to toe in their own swarm.

  Sky dangled in the air between the telepath and the armored soldiers. Okiro lay against a wall, looking around at the scene in utter confusion. She caught his eye. He stood up, but a tentacle from the armored soldier’s swarm forced him to the floor, perhaps for his own safety.

  For a moment, it was quiet. The armored soldier was as still as night. His four comrades waited. Sky could not see what the old brainbender was doing, but she could hear his struggling breath.

  Then he laughed and everything fell apart.

  Bolts and charges whizzed past Sky. The telepath’s exoskeleton groaned. She felt the impact of the floor. She caught sight of the brainbender, his swarm deflecting ordnance as he dashed toward the nearest apartment, splintering the door as if it were made of paper. He disappeared inside as gunfire pounded the walls in his wake.

  Something lifted her and she was airborne again. Another swarm had wrapped around her, blocking the light. She felt herself being carried like a babe, then the light appeared again and she landed on the floor beside Okiro. The swarm retreated to its master, the armored soldier, as he stepped past them.