Neurotopia

by Tony Mohorovich

  Sky had hoped for a smaller vessel, a crew she could easily commandeer, but this would have to do.

  She realized that infiltrating a military base would not be easy, even with a cloaked swarm. The base might have additional sensors, ones that could pick up the movement of an invisible swarm-wielder.

  She passed the security checkpoints without trouble, making the guards turn away and miss her soft footfalls. She had a helpful quartermaster leave a military-issue spacesuit (her size) unattended. It was bulkier than the average lunesuit, but she would need the extra protection where she was going.

  Suited up and cloaked in her swarm, Sky made her way to the tarmac. The gunship’s propulsion systems thud-thudded in readiness.

  Stowing herself aboard the vessel was risky; she might get cornered.

  Sky scanned the surrounding minds and discovered a maintenance crew who were about to replace an armor plate on a gun turret.

  Sky made sure she was on top of the replacement plate when, minutes later, a crane lifted it into position on the gun turret. There she lay as still as she could, flat against the turret, waiting for the ship to depart, hoping to remain unseen.

  Despite being in the middle of a hornet’s nest, she was calm.

  Half an hour later, the gunship shook, rose into the sunset, en route for Earth-space. Its mission: to prevent the brainbender Sky Marion from doing the same.

  Chapter 17

  Parasite

  ​17:1

  Ol’ Pete had crossed a quarter of the globe, searching for a safe opening into space, but to no avail. As soon as one gunship passed, another would appear. The net around Earth was tight.

  ‘They’ve got us pinned alright,’ Billy-Jay muttered as they passed over the Pacific Ocean. He was following the night, where the ship’s black-on-black camouflage worked best. ‘And our charge is low,’ he said, tapping a gauge. ‘If we don’t make a move soon, we’ll get to see if Earth gravity really is 9.81 meters per second squared.’

  *

  The Earth gunship breached the atmosphere then entered orbit, with Sky still clinging to the gun turret’s armor plate. She watched the universe through her maya, a blinding unfiltered sun against a canopy of starless black.

  < Ms. Marion, > her BOS said, < you requested that I inform you when VOL networks are available. There are VOL networks available. >

  Sky was relieved to discover that Earth’s communication blockade did not extend to space.

  Apollo was in sight. It was time for the diversion.

  Sky searched the gunship with Geppetto and found a fighter pilot by the name of Clarissa. Sky scanned her mind to determine the take-off procedure, and which officers could authorize it.

  Minutes later, a lone hammerhead fighter exited the gunship’s flight deck, circled the ship and landed near Sky. The cockpit opened with Clarissa inside. The navigator seat was empty.

  Sky had to move fast; someone would soon realize the captain had not ordered the launch. She planned on being halfway to Apollo before they could react. Sky decamped from the gun turret, gripping whatever protrusions she could on the sleek hull, and crawled in zero gravity toward the waiting vessel.

  As Sky approached the fighter, she spotted something in her periphery.

  It was a second fighter, heading her way. At first Sky assumed it had come from the gunship, but then she realized it was too far out in space.

  Try as she might, Geppetto could not breach the mind of this new pilot.

  *

  ‘I’ve got an opening,’ Billy-Jay pointed at his control panel.

  ‘No,’ Winona said, ‘Sky wanted us to wait until—’

  ‘We won’t get another chance like this.’

  He fired up the engines and pushed Ol’ Pete into Earth-space. When it broke through the atmosphere, Winona watched a holo of the planet she was leaving behind. It was her first time in space. At least she could tick one thing off her bucket list. It was a bittersweet moment, for she realized she would never return.

  ‘It’s open space from here on,’ Billy-Jay smiled. He pushed the ship further out, into the black.

  ‘But you’re taking us away from the Moon,’ Winona said with concern.

  ‘Don’t you worry, ma’am. There are too many gunships Moon-side. We’ll just fly our little selves out into space and wait for the Moon to come to us.’

  *

  The enemy fighter was upon Sky before she knew it. Sky readied her swarm, expecting the approaching vessel to fire on her.

  The vessel did not fire. Instead, it circled the gunship. It was the shape of a lightning bolt, or a skewed Z. Each side mirrored the other so that if Sky had not witnessed its arrival, she would not be able to tell forward from aft. It landed on a protruding hull-block of the gunship not far from Sky.

  A panel in the fighter opened up, and a figure leapt out. His spacesuit was the same hue as Sky’s, a navy blue with reinforced plating around the joints. But his appeared to be bulkier, as if he were wearing armor.

  As he glided to the gunship’s surface, a swarm poured out of his fighter and embraced him around his waist, then it spread out on either side to gain a foothold on the ship’s surface. The swarm was visible, and had almost twice the mass of Sky’s. It cast a shadow that reached her long before he did.

  The man clawed his way down the hull-block like an octopus along the seabed. In the background, Earth and Apollo stared each other down, their faces highlighted by the unfiltered sunlight. Sky’s helmet had to compensate for the glare so as not to lose sight of the approaching swarm-wielder.

  She heard his words through her comms, ‘Stubborn to the end.’ The internal lights of his visor exposed his features. It was Tester. The sight of him stirred paradoxical emotions, the most prominent of which was anger.

  ‘How did you find me this time?’ Sky asked, switching off her cloak and revealing herself.

  Tester pointed to the hull at his feet. ‘A diligent crewmember conducted a hull diagnostic when the ship entered space and discovered that one of the gun turrets was a little overweight.’ He looked tired, even from a distance, this copy of a copy of a copy of a man.

  Sky had no idea where her mother was, but she wouldn’t risk a connection now. All Sky could do was hope her presence would attract Earth gunships and give Billy-Jay an opportunity to escape to Apollo. Her mother still had a chance. Sky prepared her swarm to strike.

  I will not go back.

  Tester stopped. He swayed in his swarm tether, waiting for something.

  What’s he doing? she wondered. Her new BOS did not detect any mental intrusions.

  He hung there for a while longer, then his swarm lowered him to the hull. There he sat, on a throne created by his swarm, staring into space.

  ‘Get the hell out of here,’ he said.

  He never failed to catch her off-guard. Was this not the man who had shot at her caterpillar on the lunar surface? The man who had infected her with Tellinii? And now he was letting her go? Was this a ruse?

  ‘Go,’ he said.

  Still unable to make sense of it, Sky moved toward her stolen fighter with caution, watching him, expecting his swarm to lash out and grab her at any moment. But Tester just sat there, his swarm splayed against the hull like an exhausted bird.

  As she neared the fighter, she paused. She had so many competing emotions for this man, she did not know where to start; strike him or thank him? Or both?

  Tester turned his head toward her. ‘You may be free of the scanners, but I am not. The NIA will already have been alerted to my decision.’

  He had his own fighter, Sky thought. He could come with her. Surely, he knew that? He did not need an invite. Perhaps he wanted to stay.

  Torn between frustration and gratitude, Sky lifted herself into the navigator seat behind the pilot Clarissa, leaving her father to await his fate.

  As she did, she felt her swarm react. She was shunted to one side, then pulled back with a powerful jerk. The next thing she knew she was hurtling across t
he gunship’s surface.

  She caught sight of Tester. He was standing with his swarm in an offensive position, one part of it extended as if it had just thrown something; namely, her.

  Sky hit the hull and bounced off, tumbling into space. As she flailed, the gunship, Apollo, and Earth spun around her vision. She reached out with her swarm, desperate to grab hold of something. It extended itself and scraped along the hull, unable to find a foothold until it came upon a handrail, which it managed to grab. Sky swayed above the gunship like a human helium balloon.

  When she righted herself again, she turned to face Tester. His visor had tinted so that his face lay in shadows, but she could still make out some of his features. Superimposed in front of his body, like a second skin, was the maya of the Americas’ federator, Alexa Two-Eagle.

  ​17:2

  Tester’s lips moved in perfect sync with the federator’s.

  ‘Ms. Tester,’ the maya said.

  ‘Marion,’ Sky corrected her.

  ‘Ms. Tester, do not blame your father. His Geppetto obeys mine; a necessary security precaution, I am afraid, especially given my vice of overestimating people. Unfortunately, as a result of a prudent modification by Dr. Yukawa, I am unable to override your own Geppetto—.’

  ‘That’s not at all unfortunate,’ Sky said.

  ‘Oh it is, Ms. Tester, because it means I will have to resort to other, less civilized, modes of influence.’

  Tester’s swarm whipped at Sky.

  She blocked the strike with her own swarm, but the force of the collision sent her flying. Her swarm gripped the hull and she spun like an unruly kite. She winched herself back to the surface.

  I need to get to one of those fighters, Sky thought. But her father—controlled by Federator Two-Eagle—was blocking her escape.

  Two-Eagle said, ‘Is it not odd that only days ago you were an upstanding citizen, a public servant—a scanner reviewer no less—with no mental priors and an outstanding record of service?’ The federator’s swarm rippled in the harsh sunlight. ‘Yet here you stand, as a terrorist, threatening to defect to the VOL with information that would compromise our planet’s security. It is a remarkable transformation, don’t you think?’

  You killed thousands of innocent telepaths, and I’m the terrorist?

  The federator continued, ‘How do you know you are not a puppet of the telepaths?’

  ‘I’m not,’ Sky said without hesitation.

  The federator appeared unconvinced. ‘Do you know where your thoughts come from, Ms. Tester?’

  ‘What does it matter?’

  ‘If you do not know the origin of your thoughts, how can you be sure they are your own?’

  It was a question that emptied Sky’s mind, like a Zen riddle, impossible to answer. Who knew the origin of their thoughts? She could not know who was pulling her strings; whether Earth, the VOL, or herself.

  ‘I can’t help what I’m doing, any more than you can,’ Sky replied. ‘We’re all prisoners.’

  ‘Your place is with us. Your planet needs you. Don’t turn your back on it.’

  Sky struck with her swarm, swatting at the woman’s maya—and at her puppet father—across one side. Two-Eagle’s swarm blocked it with ease, but Sky propelled herself around the federator, swinging along the side of the gunship like a pendulum, and landed near Tester’s fighter.

  The federator’s swarm stretched out and caught her own. The two weapons locked and rolled, each seeking an advantage, then—finding none—they disengaged.

  Tester was alone now. The federator’s maya was at a distance, sitting on what appeared to be a sofa, one leg crossed over the other, hands in her lap, with a thin self-satisfied smile splitting her face.

  Her father’s body attacked again. He controlled his swarm like a master of whips. The blows rained down on Sky, one after the other, and all she could do was shield herself from the beating. She felt trapped inside her helmet—the only sound she could hear was her breathing and the movement of her suit. Her opponent’s swarm attacked in soundless bursts, forcing Sky to rely on her sense of sight.

  ‘I do admire your courage and ingenuity,’ Two-Eagle said as her father’s assault herded Sky away from the two fighters. ‘But you are naïve to think you can defeat a veteran swarm-wielder like your father.’

  The blows stopped.

  Two-Eagle rose from her maya seat and approached, walking on the hull as if she were moving in Earth gravity. ‘Most people prefer a villain; it is intellectually simpler and more emotionally satisfying to demonize, rather than sympathize.’ The maya vanished then reanimated in front of Tester’s body.

  A series of images formed around the federator, swirling like an infant’s mobile. ‘Half a century ago, our planet—your home—was a basket-case of never-ending conflict.’ The revolving images confirmed it; civil unrest, terrorism, world wars. Civilians bled as civilians were prone to do.

  ‘You were too young to appreciate the insanity of the times.’ Two-Eagle snapped her swarm at the hull so fast that it would have broken the sound barrier if they had been on Earth. Sky leapt out of the way just in time.

  ‘Every day: rape, murder, famine, war, and genocide. All for the most irrational and idiotic of reasons: land, resources, ethnicity, religion—’

  The federator struck again and again. Her attacks were lazy and imprecise, but they forced Sky to retreat.

  ‘I cannot allow it to happen again. I will not go back to that.’ Two-Eagle’s cheeks flushed, her eyes were wild. The historical footage multiplied around the federator, tripling her size.

  ‘Over a million violent deaths each year, most from suicide—long before Tellinii—and tens of millions of deaths from poverty and treatable illnesses. But under our united governments the death toll is not even five per cent of that. Is that not worth something?’

  Sky said nothing. She was waiting for an opening to one of the stationary fighters.

  The federator’s chest heaved. ‘People want to be better. They want to be happy and healthy, but their genetic and environmental programming can sabotage their discipline. In my time, humans inhaled gasses that destroyed their lungs, and injected themselves with chemicals that destroyed their bodies. They wanted to stop. They tried, but their baser natures overpowered their will. We gave them the strength to do what they needed to do, to overcome themselves.’

  ‘I don’t deny any of that,’ Sky said, trying to circle around. ‘Do what you like with Earth. The VOL doesn’t want your help.’

  ‘They will appreciate it in the long run. We cannot turn our back on the VOL; it would be like a parent neglecting to provide limits for their child, to allow them to be manipulated by their own whims. On Earth, we brought peace at every level of existence; anger, jealousy, and selfishness will soon be extinct. We achieved what the old religions could not. Do you know how much the average Earth citizen’s brain has evolved under our guardianship? We can do that for all humanity. What kind of person are you to oppose that? Have you no compassion?’

  ‘Compassion?’ Sky flung the word back in her face. ‘You murder opponents in the VOL with no regard for the innocent. You would allow a million of your own citizens to die from a virus—’

  ‘We are in the middle of a war for the future of humanity. It is a choice between our world and theirs. Someone in my position does not have the luxury of ethical purity. You think that I order such actions because I enjoy them? Because I think them virtuous? You mistake me, Ms. Tester. I despise them. But I choose them, because to do otherwise would bring upon us even greater suffering. If you could only appreciate the tightrope we walk between civilization and anarchy, you would not turn against your own people, not for your mother or father or anyone.’

  ‘You speak as if I could destroy civilization itself.’

  ‘Because like it or not, you can.’ The federator’s forefinger stabbed at the Moon. ‘If they learn of Geppetto, it will destroy any advantage we have. Even as we speak, their great powers are seeking an excuse f
or war. Would you give it to them?’

  Sky recalled that Dante’s telepaths, too, had been concerned about the possibility of war. It was the reason Dante had chosen to keep Geppetto’s crimes hidden.

  Two-Eagle said, ‘If it comes to war and we lose—and there is a chance we may—their vultures would descend and enslave us all, as they have enslaved their own. You have seen their people; fearful of where they’ll get their next meal, fearful of how they’ll protect themselves and their loved ones, fearful of falling ill, fearful of who will care for them in their old age. Those with resources easily exploit such fears. Is that what you wish for your own people? To replace our hard-won security with fear?’

  These types, Sky thought, always had their eyes on the big picture, yanking the harness of society’s beast. But each pull had ramifications on the ground. If history had taught us anything, it was that the path to atrocity was paved with collective justifications.

  Sky would not discard her heart as Two-Eagle had. Not for Earth, not for the VOL, not for any cause.

  ‘You desecrated my family,’ Sky spat.

  Two-Eagle paused, as if taken aback. She responded with an unexpected look; something without malice or frustration, something kinder. Disappointment? The sort of look a mother reserves only for her children, the ones she cannot but love.

  Sky cloaked her swarm and hit the federator with a whir of strikes, manipulating the swarm like the tri-bladed Urumi she had used in battle sims. The haze of blades sawed through the federator’s defenses. The impacts caused loosened swarm bots to spray out like fireworks.

  In response, her father’s swarm cloaked itself. Sky had to rely on her own swarm’s sensors to see the outline of her opponent’s weapon.

  The three of them—Sky, the federator, and the puppet Tester—became a twisting mess of swarms that blinked in and out of existence.

  Two-Eagle was calm, not at all perturbed by the lashing weapons. Her maya detached again and floated away from the battle.