‘After the war, Earth was keen to protect itself from the creeping influence of the newly independent colonies. All the research funding went into security measures to prevent another ’36, and the government took a keen interest in the hacking element of Geppetto. I had to make a living…’
The old man shrugged in resignation. ‘Research is like a foggy morning; sometimes you can only see a few meters ahead at a time. It was a road which, for better or worse, eventually led us to the current iteration of Geppetto. At first, Earth’s security council only used it for defense. Later, they decided to use Geppetto for more aggressive purposes. They began influencing power-players in the VOL, convincing them to ignore Earth’s mounting debt. For those VOL oligarchs who were out of Geppetto’s reach, we used the Tellinii virus to hobble their operations and limit their power.’
A maya of a dog appeared at Yukawa’s feet. It was a Labrador puppy with creamy fur. Yukawa’s exoskeleton groaned as he reached down and picked it up. ‘Earth’s ability to influence the VOL is growing by the day. Eventually it will reclaim the colonies. I do not know whether that would ultimately be positive or negative for humanity, but I decided long ago that the methods by which Earth seeks to achieve its goal are unacceptable.’
He scratched the Labrador puppy behind the ears. ‘I had such high hopes for Geppetto when I first began.’
The Labrador began to grow in size, from a pup to a full-grown dog in a matter of seconds. It growled and Yukawa dropped it. The dog landed then turned to face the Bellringer, snarling. The Bellringer watched it with a melancholic expression, at which point the dog disappeared and Yukawa looked up at Sky. ‘I must undo the damage I have done. At present, for better or worse, you are the only one who can help me. If Earth finds you—and they will—Geppetto and the truth will be lost. We must act quickly; you must reveal your memories to the Solar System, show them the truth, show them Geppetto, and heal their infected.’
‘Last time I tried healing with Geppetto, it didn’t end too well for a few thousand people,’ Sky said. The memory of the destruction of Dante’s colony was like carrying a snake in her womb.
Dr. Yukawa dismissed her concerns with a wave of his bony hand. ‘As you suggested, it was likely an NIA implant, a neural-bomb perhaps. I have not, as yet, been able to discern the precise method. There are indications in your brain that such a program had been active, but it has since either destroyed itself or else it has served its purpose. Like you, I sat helpless as Geppetto was once again twisted for destruction, to wipe out ten thousand people who accepted me into their family. Do not blame yourself, Sky Marion; it does not take long for guilt to transform into self-hatred and impotence.’
He paused, looking down at the regolith for a moment. With a sudden move, he straightened his torso so that his hunch disappeared. ‘What we need now is action, the very sort you just displayed when you escaped from the NIA. If you had stayed on that ship, your father would have deleted Geppetto from your neurals. You would never have tapped into Geppetto on your own. You would never have freed me.’
Sky faced the blue haze on the horizon, a promise of Earth, her once-home.
Dr. Yukawa whirrr-tapped off his rock and approached her. ‘Unfortunately, I have become aware of a certain embryonic intention forming in your neurals, one which could risk everything which I and Dante’s people have sacrificed.’
‘And what might that intention be?’ Sky asked with an air of someone who already had the answer.
‘There is a small, childish, part of you which is considering—’
‘You said you wanted action.’
‘I was referring to productive action.’
Sky cleared her throat. ‘I’ve decided nothing.’
‘Not consciously, perhaps.’
A part of Sky had toyed with the idea of trading with the NIA; they would send her mother to the VOL, cured, and in return Sky would allow them to delete her Geppetto. Another part wanted to reveal the truth to the public. Another wanted to retreat to a quiet colony somewhere, as far away from Earth as possible. The ideas bounced around in her mind, ricocheting off the walls, colliding against other ideas in a game that would ultimately leave only one standing.
‘Be careful, Ms. Marion. Geppetto has not yet integrated with your neurals; it will be days before you can unlock its full potential. Until then, you are little more than a scanner reviewer with a swarm. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.’
Sky’s swarm lifted the giant caterpillar wheel and threaded itself through the rim. The remainder of the swarm fashioned itself into a seat on top of the tire. She climbed on board, the wheel turned, and she left the Bellringer in the dust.
Seconds later, he reappeared beside her. ‘I’m in your brain, remember; you can’t leave me behind.’
‘You might have hitched a ride on Geppetto, but you’re not part of it. If you won’t leave me alone, I’ll find a way to delete you.’
‘You wouldn’t delete me; you find me much too useful.’ He smiled.
She glared at him.
Dr. Yukawa raised his palms in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Whatever you do, at least deposit your memories in a mem-bank; if you fall, the truth falls with you.’ Yukawa smiled then flickered out of existence.
Sky rolled onward, a speck in the vast gray.
13:2
The Scarlett Tours sped toward the invisible border in space that separated lunar and Earth jurisdictions. It shot volleys of countermeasures in its wake to distract the missiles and other armaments fired by the pursuing VOL frigate—a vessel shaped like a driver ant with two large mandible-guns at its head, covered in advertising. It was four times the size of the Scarlett Tours.
Director Tester watched the approaching frigate from the comfort of his quarters. It was not a priority. He was more interested in the progress of the upload to NIA servers; 97… 98… 100% complete. He waited until he received the message: TJS Upload Confirmed.
A blast rocked the ship.
Tester called the White House. His maya-call expanded until it enveloped half his quarters. In it, Federator Alexa Two-Eagle was leaning over her desk and assessing a young bonsai tree, a new addition.
‘The VOL has demanded a meeting with the Security Council to discuss the incident at the telepath colony,’ she said. ‘We will deny any involvement, of course. We will devise a plausible explanation as to why your ship is trying to escape into Earth-space, and we will make another plea for the cure, for the sake of appearances. However, if we are to play the victim successfully we must—above all—retrieve Sky before they do. If they gain access to her brain—’
‘They won’t find her,’ Tester said.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘She has Geppetto and she’s learning to use it, faster than most.’
The federator smirked. ‘Fatherly pride, Jeong-soo?’
‘I’m not proud of what she’s done. She has turned her back on her own people. I have failed her.’
Tester’s ship rocked again. A second VOL frigate had appeared, blocking the Scarlett’s path back to Earth.
‘No programming is one hundred per cent accurate, Jeong-soo,’ Two-Eagle said, coiling a wire around the thin trunk of the young bonsai. ‘The more complex it is, the greater the chance of an oversight, even with our systems. You successfully prevented the telepaths from wielding Geppetto, now all we have to do is keep it out of their reach.’
‘She’ll come for Winona,’ he said, as if it were a statement of fact. ‘Her core emotional programming is anchored to her mother. She’ll try to save her.’
The federator paused. ‘If you are right, it would make our task easier. However, my concern is that by the time she gets here she may be too powerful to manipulate.’
It was possible, Tester thought, though unlikely. It would take days for Geppetto to fully integrate into Sky’s neurals.
The federator snipped a wire, then bent a bonsai branch in a new direction. ‘The attachment to offspring can be a power
ful one. It is a primal bond, a deep programming not easily overcome.’
A maya appeared behind her; it was a man in his thirties, light brown hair, asleep on a hospital bed. Videl was his name. He was the federator’s son.
The federator placed the new bonsai plant beside the existing one. ‘Sometimes, that attachment can affect your actions without your awareness, rising from those dark primitive recesses of your mind where even programming has trouble reaching.’
She turned to face Videl’s maya. ‘In the Before, rulers would send the sons and daughters of others to fight and die in wars. But in the After, in our new civilization, we demand that rulers make the first sacrifice.’
‘I understand, Madam Federator. I am prepared to serve my planet.’
‘I know you are, Jeong-soo, yet I cannot ask you to do a thing I could not.’
The federator zoomed in on the medical readouts surrounding her son. Superimposed over the data was a translucent button with the word: Euthanasia.
The federator stared at it with childlike curiosity. ‘When I was young, I believed in good and bad. Dad was good. Mom was bad. Simple. But now…’ she looked down at the features of the comatose man, his prominent cheekbones and crescent eyes, much like the federator’s own, ‘… the good comes with the bad, and the bad comes with the good. My father was kind but weak; my mother was distant but a provider. Not so simple. Every important choice demands a sacrifice.’
A ringing brought Tester’s attention back to the Scarlett Tours—the ship’s captain was calling. Tester noticed that a third VOL frigate had arrived. He answered the captain.
‘Sir,’ the captain said, ‘we’ve exhausted our countermeasures and armaments, we’ve got nothing left. We’re sitting ducks.’
‘They want us alive,’ Tester told him and raised an index finger; wait.
Tester returned his attention to the Oval Office where the federator watched over the bedridden man, her eyes glistening. Despite her vulnerable state, Tester still saw the pillar of strength that she was, one of the many reasons he had served her for so long.
His voice was soft but deep, ‘You don’t have to do this.’
‘But I do, Jeong-soo.’
The button depressed and the med-maya announced, ‘Euthanasia in progress.’
Two-Eagle recoiled for a second. Then settled. Tester watched as her son’s vital signs faded.
Alexa Two-Eagle wiped a tear from her face. Her dead son’s maya disappeared. ‘A leader must make the first sacrifice. Only then can she expect others to follow with their own.’
Tester’s connection to the White House cut out. The federator had ended the call. He found himself back in his cramped quarters with the captain still waiting for a response. Tester told him, ‘Notify me when they try to board,’ and hung up.
He took a moment to rest. He lay on the bed and listened to the hum of the ship.
Tester initiated Geppetto and re-established his mind-link with the unsuspecting Apollan CEO, Rem Singh. It appeared that Rem was about to meet with the influential VOL financier, Thomas Lysander.
There may be a way out of this mess yet.
13:3
Sky’s swarm-wheel turned, as did her mind. She stayed off the roads, which was easy enough because there were not many of them. She maintained a connection with the caterpillar’s comms, responding as required to the jet escorts.
Sky stopped her vehicle. The dust settled and she welcomed the stillness, for her body at least.
Where to now? She could not return to Shackleton City, for the growing list of admirers and enemies would make it too dangerous.
There has to be a way to help Ma, she told herself.
She needed to speak to someone who had experience in clandestine matters. Someone like Mym Mento. The rumormonger could not be trusted, of course. Unless there was a way to tap into Mento’s mind without her being aware… perhaps with the aid of Geppetto?
Sky did not trust Geppetto. For all she knew, it might kill her just as it had Dante and his people—her people. Yet she realized that up until now, Geppetto had not harmed her directly. Dr. Yukawa had suggested it was safe. And if she were to learn to tame Geppetto, to access its cure, she would have to start somewhere. What did she have to lose? She was on the verge of losing everything already.
Sky engaged the program.
Minutes passed and she remained unharmed. With newfound confidence, she decided to seek Mym Mento. The program allowed her to flit across the local nets, from mind to mind, much like freescanning. Perhaps, she thought, it was no coincidence she had “chosen” to become a scanner reviewer.
Try as she might, the closest she got to Mento were the minds of passers-by outside her store. The rumormonger had somehow walled herself off.
Makes sense, given her line of work.
Sky searched for an alternative way to access Mym Mento. She found it in the form of Mr. Polat who ran an air purification store next to Mento’s. His memories suggested he had had cordial dealings with Mento (unlike her other neighbors). Mr. Polat was a patient man, not the type to take things too personally. He had been meaning to talk to Mento about their shared shopfront wall, which had cracked in the last quake. He had hoped she would pay half for the repair, but he had put off speaking to her, partly out of fear of confronting his neighbor. But now, with a sudden newfound courage (from where, he did not know), he entered Mym Mento’s Memorium.
He had expected to be greeted by the android sales assistant, but it was nowhere to be seen.
Strange, Mr. Polat thought.
‘Madam Mento?’ he called. There was no answer.
Sky sensed his concern; it was unusual for the mechanical sales assistant to be absent.
Mr. Polat made his way to the back of the store, past the multitude of memory frames replaying lives once lived, and found one of the android’s spidery legs on the floor, minus the body. He discovered the rest of the machine in the storeroom, where it lay with its head detached from its torso.
Mr. Polat noticed that the door to Mym’s lab was ajar. A corner of the door was bent, as if it had been pried open. It would take a lot of power to do that sort of damage, Mr. Polat told himself.
He spun for the exit.
From Sky’s perspective, Mr. Polat’s mind bucked, trying to rid itself of the new passenger. It was fascinating to watch the brain’s fear responses light up.
Geppetto diverted Mr. Polat’s attention by pulling on his emotional strings; his concern for Mym, curiosity, even a little greed (there would be something of value hidden in her lab, no doubt). Geppetto dialed up these emotions until the fear was, in comparison, an afterthought.
Sky realized that whoever had forced entry into Mym’s lab might still be inside. She was putting Mr. Polat at risk for her own gain.
I am no better than the rest of them, she thought, yet no worse.
She was now a part of, rather than apart from, the sludge of humanity. At least, that was how she justified it to herself.
Sky urged Mr. Polat into the lab.
He walked down the darkened staircase which opened up into the lab proper. Mr. Polat had never been this far into the store and wished he could make himself retreat.
There were no bodies on the memory extraction tables. The door of the tinted central hub hung off its hinges. One body lay on the floor outside the hub. It was the body of Mym Mento—her head, once whole, was now a flat red blotch on the floor.
Though Sky had witnessed more death than a single human should ever see, and although she knew that Mym Mento had conned her, Sky’s heart still ached at her demise. Another life lost. Another victim.
Mym’s body shifted. Her elbows rose, then the knees, and the body stood, headless.
Geppetto worked overtime to prevent Mr. Polat from both fleeing and screaming.
‘Mr. Polat?’ It was Mym’s voice. ‘Oh dear, if I’d known visitors were coming I would have dressed,’ she said. A maya of Mym’s face appeared where her head should have been. She lo
oked at the red mess at her feet. ‘Got me good, didn’t they? Wasn’t expecting them; a couple of swarm-wielders, would you believe it? I really pissed off someone this time. But my cloned head fooled ’em good,’ she chuckled.
Mym waddled over to her central office. She pulled a cord out of the wall, lifted her top, and plugged the end of the cord into her hip.
‘Hope you don’t mind me recharging,’ Mym said, ‘Anyway, what can I do for ya?’
‘You’re… an android?’ Mr. Polat said.
‘Uh, not quite; this is a remote unit,’ Mym tapped her torso. ‘In my line of work, it pays not be at work.’
Very clever, Sky thought. Mym had cloned a copy of her head and stuck it onto the android body, manipulating it like a biological finger puppet. The unsuspecting assassins would have gone for the head, to destroy the evidence, and been satisfied with the bloody outcome.
‘But,’ Mym continued, ‘it’s getting so dangerous these days, I reckon I’ll have to move the store further underground, somewhere my enemies are too afraid to follow.’
Mr. Polat shuddered at the thought.
Mym laughed. ‘I’ve lived on a few levels in my time. Everyone thinks the level below them is worse. It ain’t. The knives are just cheaper.’
Mr. Polat turned to the issue of the cracks in their shared wall. Sky took the opportunity to search for the Mym’s true location.
Geppetto detected the weak signals of a human brain somewhere below Mr. Polat’s feet, guarded by both metal and virtual walls. The signal was just strong enough to identify the owner—Mym Mento.
Sky searched Mym’s mind for options, something that might help her mother. None were any good, and all required a sacrifice; but which sacrifice would she choose? Had she chosen already? She could not even admit it to herself; it was there in the pit of her stomach, wanting to cry out, but she feared that if she gave it a voice she could never go through with it.
Whilst scanning Mento’s mind, Sky came across the memory of Mym selling her out to the telepaths. Why had she done it? Money?
Neurotopia Page 24