The admission had stunned her silent. It was just as Earth had suspected, just as she had expected. Yet, she noticed a part of her was disappointed, a part of her had wanted to believe Dante was innocent, and she did not know why. ‘First you tell me Earth created the virus, and now you tell me you infected Earth? Which one is it?’
‘Both.’
Her confusion turned to frustration. ‘It can’t be both.’
Dante sighed. ‘That old-timer in the exoskeleton—the one who manipulated you at your apartment—he was a researcher confined to an NIA facility where they’d developed the Geppetto program.’
Sky had never discussed the brainbender incident with Dante. Had he picked this up from her memory scan, or had he seen her while she was linked with the brainbender?
He continued, ‘His name was Dr. Yukawa. He wanted to leak Geppetto to us, but the program was so large that it would have taken hours to upload. He couldn’t risk it while he was in the lab, so he planned an escape. Once free, he was able to hack and avoid Detroit security systems but, thanks to you, the NIA closed in on him. We needed more time. It was our only chance to get a hold of Geppetto. We were desperate…’ he said, ‘… so we released the virus.’
Sky’s chest burned with anger. It took all of her will to allow him to continue to speak. To let him bury himself.
‘We didn’t mean for it to get out of control,’ he said. ‘We targeted the local nodes, just enough to slow down the system, to keep the NIA off our backs.’ He paused, looking away. ‘But the virus spread faster than we had expected.’
She wanted to scream. But this was no time for emotion. She needed her wits.
‘Sky, not everyone agreed to that course of action. Many of our kin opposed it.’
It did not matter who created the virus, Sky thought. All that mattered was who was willing to use it. Dante had admitted to infecting Earth, to infecting her mother, and that was enough.
‘No need to apologize, Dante.’ A series of overlapping voices startled Sky.
Olon Rhodes stood a few meters behind her. ‘It worked, we got what we wanted, and Earth got a taste of its own programming. They created the virus to gnaw away at us, hoping no one would notice, until one day—poof—we’re all gone, out of their hair, problem solved. It serves them right,’ Rhodes spat.
Sky stared at their cascading faces. The Olon fired back, ‘Don’t you judge us. Your kind is worse; Earth could cure its infected in an instant, but it would rather keep its dirty little weapon a secret.’
Sky addressed Dante, ‘I’m here for my mother. She barely has four days before the virus destroys her. I need that cure—I need Geppetto.’
Dante opened his hand. In his palm was a twirling maya; a DNA strand. ‘We managed to download it before they got to the old-timer.’
Geppetto?
A chill ran down her spine. Her throat constricted and she realized she was holding her breath.
They had the cure the whole time?
‘You lied,’ Sky said. ‘You told me Earth had the cure. I thought you said liars were mind-rapers.’
‘Earth does have the cure, that part was true.’
‘A half-truth is still a lie.’
‘In a world where our existence is at stake, we do what we must.’
They’re not so different from the rest of us, after all. I was right to distrust them. And what now? The bargain. Always the bargain with these people.
Dante left the DNA strand hanging in the air. ‘Before Dr. Yukawa transferred Geppetto, he gave us the processing and neural requirements a human needed to wield it. They were both unique and colossal. The sort of neurals that took years of specialized programming. None of us qualified, but one of our best hackers—or brainbenders as you people call them—thought he could handle it. We tried to talk him out of it, but he was hell-bent on uploading it; he thought it was safer for one of us to control Geppetto than to seek help from an outsider. He disconnected from our network and made the attempt.’
Dante shook his head. ‘Geppetto’s security mechanism infected him, just as Dr. Yukawa had warned us. We have the cure, that much is true, but what we lack is the means to use it.’
Sky finally understood why Dante had allowed her into the colony, against the wishes of many. ‘But I might.’
‘Yes,’ Dante replied. ‘You might.’
Are they really offering me Geppetto? It can’t be this easy.
‘I don’t understand. If you have Geppetto, why keep it hidden?’ Sky said. ‘Why not reveal it to the public? You have billions of people across the VOL. You’d find a suitable user within hours—within milli,’ she corrected herself, ‘—and then it wouldn’t matter who created Geppetto because everyone would have the cure. We could cure them all.’
She waited for a response, looking for signs that her strategy was one that had not occurred to them. One that had some merit.
The Olon’s faces showed no emotion.
Dante chuckled, but it was more sorrow than mirth. ‘You don’t know the VOL like we do,’ he said. ‘Yes, we’re free, but even freedom has a price. If we were to release Geppetto on the market, we couldn’t control it. It would only be a matter of time before someone reengineered Geppetto and developed their own version. We already have companies dedicated to developing brain hacks, and others to developing counter-hacks to prevent intrusion. They’ve had some success, granted, but they haven’t been able to concoct anything like Geppetto. Those who could afford the programming to wield Geppetto would manipulate those who could not.’
‘But you have the law of consent; no one could manipulate anyone without their permission.’ As soon as the words came out Sky recognized their foolishness. Her experiences in Shackleton City had been evidence to the contrary.
‘To have a law is one thing. To enforce it is something else,’ he said. ‘And how would you even know you had been manipulated by Geppetto? Even if you could prove an intrusion, could you afford a lengthy court battle against powerful wielders?’
Strange, Sky thought. Here she was in the VOL, the land of the “free”, with a telepath telling her that a program was too powerful to release to the market. There was something amiss, like smoke without fire.
‘You wouldn’t have to release Geppetto,’ she said. ‘You could just let the VOL know you have it and that you need someone to wield it.’
‘True. However, if we handed over proof that Earth had been interfering in VOL affairs, breaching the Declaration… there are folks here who’d push for war. You’ve never known war. Only a telepath can truly know it; what it does to others, what it does to you. Humanity against humanity. For a ’path there is no enemy, only victims.’
With a sudden fluid move, he pushed himself off the ground and stood. ‘No, it is not the time reveal Geppetto. For now, it will be enough that we can use it to cure the infected.’
Sky looked up at him. ‘If what you say is true, you’re taking a big risk holding the only offworld copy of Geppetto. What if Earth catches up with you and reclaims it? What then?’
‘Geppetto is safe,’ he said with certainty.
Dante’s responses did little to allay Sky’s suspicions. The telepaths had no interest in sharing Geppetto.
Either they’re lying, and they’re the ones who created Geppetto… or they stole it and want to be one of the few to control it.
She felt as if she were inside a maze, and each dead end was a falsehood. Her mind spun with possibilities whose realities she could not verify. She needed space to think. ‘You would have found a more suitable user in the VOL. Someone without my links to the NIA.’
‘We would have, eventually,’ Dante said. ‘But we had infected of our own and their time was running out. Dr. Yukawa told us the best matches for Geppetto would come from Earth itself; from your security agencies, who were breeding the next generation of wielders. So, like a desperate fly, we built a web to attract the spider, hoping to tame it.’
Or eat it.
‘NIA operatives
are stacked for the job. You’d never get one to turn,’ Sky said.
The Olon’s swarm slithered over Sky’s shoulder then rippled around her. ‘And you’re sure about that?’ they said.
Sky paused. Could it be? How? ‘You’re an agent?’
‘Were,’ they said.
Sky inspected the swarm. It had seen better days. But she had no way of knowing if the Olon had once been a member of the NIA. It could have easily been a lie.
‘You left this spider out in the desert,’ Sky said. ‘What was that all about? Playing hard-to-get?’
The Olon’s faces flipped until Dante appeared. ‘We were desperate, not stupid.’
Sky turned to Dante, preferring to see him in the flesh rather than on the Olon.
‘You refused to join our network,’ Dante-in-the-flesh continued. ‘We wanted to heal our infected, of course, but we couldn’t risk the rest of the colony. When you returned on foot…’ he chuckled, perhaps impressed, ‘… when you chose death over connecting with us, I knew we could trust you.’
Sky had all but exhausted her questions. She realized she was stalling. She was afraid, looking for a way out, even though this moment, so close to Geppetto, was everything she had fought for.
‘What’s the price?’ Sky asked. ‘If you give me Geppetto, and if I can control it, what do you get in return?’
‘You heal our infected first,’ Dante said. ‘Then we’ll help you heal your mother, and the others on Earth, if that’s what you want.’
Too good to be true.
The Olon’s next words proved her right. ‘With one condition. You see, not everyone trusts you like Dante does. Geppetto would be deadly in the wrong hands.’
The irony of their words appeared lost on them.
Dante added, ‘Some of my kin need more assurance of your good intentions.’
Here it comes…
Olon Rhodes squatted beside her. ‘If you networked with us, we wouldn’t need trust; we would know you…’
‘… and you’d know us,’ Dante finished. ‘You could access our minds. We couldn’t hide any secrets from you. Instead of doubts, you’d have answers.’
First they tell me they trust me, and then they don’t.
Yet, she could picture her mother standing on her own once more, speaking, smiling, and laughing. Alive.
But what if, instead of giving her Geppetto, the telepaths used her to return to Earth and infect more of her fellow citizens? What kind of person was she to risk the lives of innocents for the chance to save just one?
A familiar message appeared:
ATTENTION
This is a brain-to-brain connection request from an unknown source… DANTE.
WARNING: Connecting to an untrusted source may void your security and health insurances and result in neurovirus infection.
Do you wish to proceed (not recommended)?
If the telepaths were telling the truth, she would never forgive herself for letting her mother die. But if they were lying…
Her heart ached. Ached. As if it were being squeezed, and no matter which way she turned, the vise would tighten.
Uncle Jesse, how long did I fight off Dr. Yukawa’s hack at the apartment?
< A good thirty-five seconds before he told you to stop resistin’. But I reckon you could’ve gone a little longer if he hadn’t threatened your ma. >
That meant she might have a window to peer into their minds, to test whether they were telling the truth, before they took her entirely.
Thirty-five seconds. Thirty to be safe.
Yet this time it was not just one telepath, it was thousands. Would that make any difference? Only hours ago she would have chosen to die rather than network her brain with them. But now, with Geppetto dangling before her…
11:4
‘I’ll do it,’ Sky told Dante, ‘I’ll connect.’
Her decision gave her immediate relief. One way or another, she was about to uncover the truth.
Uncle Jesse, I want to be out of the network before thirty seconds are up.
< Understood. Heads up, ma’am—here he comes. >
Thirty seconds.
She did not feel any different.
Twenty-eight seconds.
Sky.
It was Dante’s voice. His lips were still.
Stay calm, I’m here to help, he said.
She did not recoil at the sound of his voice in her mind, her most sacred space. Rather, it was as if he had been with her all along and she had only just noticed.
I’ve disconnected from the others, he said, to test your mind. Judging from our network security analysis, I’d say it’s safe enough.
Seconds later, other voices joined in.
You had better be right about this. It was Olon Rhodes, their voices overlapping; male, female, adult, child. Sky had expected to feel the Olon’s hate, but instead there was just an intense protectiveness, a concern for their mind-kin, especially for the young ones.
Olon Rhodes’ memories came to her; born on Earth, the young Rhodes had excelled at his studies and his programming, which led him to the NIA. Rhodes was an agent, or had been. The NIA had sent him against the telepaths long ago, but then he learned the truth. After many years as an ordinary telepath, he joined the order of the Olon-Kholboo, the “Many-Union”.
You were right, Dante, Olon Rhodes said, she’s clean as a whistle. My apologies, sister. Welcome. Let’s introduce you to the others.
At first, it was just a drip, here and there: Welcome. Welcome. A new sister. My name is… thank you… help us… we see your mother… we know your pain…
Twenty-five seconds.
The storm came, chattering voices across the human octave, a plague of cicadas in her head, so very loud.
Twenty-one seconds.
‘Too many,’ Sky said. Beads of sweat formed on her brow.
‘They will subside,’ Dante said aloud, clear over the voices in her head.
When Sky had freescanned back on Earth, she had been able to sift through the many mind-voices. But those voices had not looked back at her or experienced her as the telepaths did now. The two-way feedback made her so self-conscious she could not focus.
At some point, Sky lost herself. Like a child in a crowd; there one moment, gone the next. She struggled to pinpoint her thoughts. It took effort to distinguish them from the others. There were just thoughts bouncing around in her head and they had no face, no ownership; just neural signals and electro-chemical reactions.
‘Where am I?’ she cried.
Fifteen seconds.
Don’t look for yourself, Dante told her, look for the others. Follow me. Follow me…
In the storm of her mind she followed his voice, and it brought her to another place. There she felt the others’ presence, like bubbles of thought in her own mind which she could either hold or ignore. The entire colony was there, with their own senses filtering the world, impressions left by the past—joy and pain—the subjective experiences of over ten thousand humans.
Ten seconds.
Something had changed.
Eight seconds.
Fear faded. In its place came a new sensation. Security? Yes, a sense that she could fall and be caught. It was the trust she had for her mother, expanded. She no longer had the urge to run.
Seven seconds.
Sky’s memories played, moments here and there, as the colonists trawled through her life. She felt a burden lift, as if the act of maintaining privacy had taken an enormous toll on her mind. She was astounded at how she had ever lived under such strain.
New memories came; not her own, but those of her mind-kin.
Three seconds.
She saw snippets of old lives on Earth; escaping the scanners, the programmers.
One second.
< Ma’am, you told me to remind you… >
At first, they fled to the poles; the Arctic and Antarctic, and the ocean cities, where there were no scanners. There, in those harsh environments, they built thei
r homes, perfecting the technology that would one day enable them to thrive on the Moon. When the scanners’ claws finally reached them, many fled to Apollo, to Mars, and other colonies. Anywhere but Earth.
Zero seconds.
Sky looked at her hands: they belonged to a boy, sitting on his bed, a view of the telepath colony outside his window. The hands changed, they now had gloves; she wore the overalls of a technician at the colony’s hangar. At every turn she was a different person, with different genes, ancestors, age, sex. She tried on new lives like dresses at a virtual store. Her consciousness flitted among the telepaths faster than it ever had with Detroit’s citizens.
Minus 315 seconds.
How had so much time passed?
Stay with us. You are divine. We would be less without you. Their thoughts pattered like warm spring rain.
Minus 400 seconds.
Sky saw how the colony had been infected. They had downloaded Geppetto into one of their young ones, then disconnected him for his own safety and to secure the program. But the NIA had somehow tapped into the remnants of the telepathic link with Dr. Yukawa and hit the colony with the virus.
Minus 500 seconds.
Sky erased the timer. She had no need of it; everything Dante had told her was true. Earth had created the virus. Earth had lied to her. It was if her own mother had stabbed her in the back. No, her father—he would have known the truth. He would have known all along.
Sky shed tears for the lies she had led, for the reality she had lost, for the families the virus had torn apart, on Earth and offworld. She shed tears for them all and she trembled. Yet she did not fall, for they held her, every last one of them.
11:5
Sky learned everything that had come to pass since the infection on Earth. Days earlier, the telepaths had seen Sky through the eyes of Dr. Yukawa, the one known as the Bellringer. Was it then that they had implanted a desire in her to seek out Geppetto? No. They would not risk enticing the daughter of an NIA director to their colony, no matter how promising her neurals. They would find someone in the VOL who could handle Geppetto.
After the NIA had infected the colony, the telepaths needed a cure, and fast. They began their desperate search for candidates to wield Geppetto. When that proved too time-consuming, they decided to lure Earth agents. They contacted rumormongers, like Mym Mento, to lay the bait—a staged memory of Olon Rhodes killing a runaway telepath. In reality, the “victim” was alive and well in the colony, connected with Sky at that very moment. He smiled an apology.
Neurotopia Page 20