The Installed Intelligence Trilogy Collection

by Phoenix Ward

  Ethan did his best to obey, but could do little more than clutch onto the back of the passenger seat for dear life.

  The ground grew larger and larger on the windshield until they were engulfed by a shriek of metal and dirt. Everything went black.

  Homecoming

  Sharpe and Taylor stared down at their friend as his senses started to return to him. Ethan blinked and looked up, his mind taking a moment to catch up with the rest of his body.

  “Hey, he’s coming back!” Taylor said with an excited expression. Sharpe had an expectant look in his eyes as he waited for Ethan to say something.

  “What — what’s going on?” Ethan asked. His voice was drowsy; it was clear he wasn’t fully awake yet.

  Once he realized who he was speaking to, Ethan bolted upright and looked around. Brow furrowed, he gazed around the basement of Sharpe’s home base, trying to discern where Tera and the autocar went.

  “Oh, man, he’s all disoriented,” Taylor said.

  “Must have been some immersive shit,” Sharpe commented.

  “Where am I?” Ethan inquired.

  “The basement,” Sharpe replied. “Right where you left us.”

  “No,” Ethan said in a trance-like tone. “No, no. That isn’t right. I left through the Last Stand map.”

  Sharpe and Taylor looked at each other.

  “I dunno what you’re talking about, but it sounds cool,” Sharpe said, smiling. “I wanna give it a try now, but I’m nervous!”

  “Don’t be a pansy,” Taylor said to their host. “I’ll do it right now. Look at Ethan’s face; that’s gotta be some adventure to make a look like that.”

  Ethan grew frustrated that his friends were ignoring him. “Dammit! What’s going on?” he asked. “Where the hell is Tera? Why am I back in the simulation?”

  Sharpe and Taylor looked at each other again, confused. There was a hopeless expression on their faces, like they didn’t know how to answer Ethan’s questions. Or, rather, like he had asked them in another language.

  “Who’s Tera?” Sharpe asked.

  “Was she your girlfriend in the new adventure?” Taylor asked with a tone of teasing.

  “New adventure?” Ethan asked. “Shut the fuck up and explain what’s going on!”

  Sharpe started to laugh as Taylor shook her head.

  “I don’t think we can do both,” she replied, chuckling.

  “You know what I mean!”

  “You really don’t remember?” Sharpe asked.

  “I remember Tera, and leaving the kingdom of Opes, and talking in the autocar — ”

  “Ah, yeah,” Sharpe started. “That must have all been part of the narrative. I gotta say, I’m impressed. I knew you’d be immersed, but not ‘where-the-hell-am-I’ immersed.”

  “Narrative?” Ethan echoed. He was getting tired of asking them to elaborate; he wished they would just spit it out.

  “Ethan, you’ve been inside a new simulation adventure the guys at Replication Systems cooked up,” Taylor explained. “It’s called The Rebels of Shell City — supposed to be an action-cyberpunk experience. You’ve been playing it for a couple hours now.”

  “A couple hours?” Ethan repeated. “No. I was out there for over a month. Out in the real world.”

  “No, Ethan,” Sharpe said. “It’s only been a couple hours. Jesus, is it really a month long in there? That’s incredible.”

  “It wasn’t a simulation!” Ethan argued. “I was out there in the world. The real world. Not the one they’ve told us is waiting for us. Everything they’ve told us is a lie. There aren’t colonies on other planets or a utopia for all people. In fact — do you even know what they’re doing to us?”

  “No! No spoilers!” Sharpe shouted, putting his hands over his ears like an unruly child. He turned away and squeezed his eyes shut. Ethan looked at him with bewildered eyes.

  Taylor put a hand on Sharpe’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sharpe,” she said. “The storyline is different for everyone, at least a little bit. Ethan can’t spoil it for you. Sounds like he had a hell of a time, though.”

  Ethan shook his head. “If I’ve just been playing an adventure, why can’t I remember that?” he asked.

  Sharpe shrugged. Taylor, realizing she was the only one with any info, said, “It’s a new set of coding Replication Systems designed to really immerse you in the adventure. They make you forget you’re even playing an adventure or that you signed up to do so. It tries to transition the first adventure with your real life as seamlessly as possible. That’s why you can’t remember when you started playing; the transition was perfect.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Ethan said, trying to push away from his friends. He put his fingers to his temples like his head was going to explode and he’d be able to hold it together. “None of this makes any sense to me. If I’ve been playing an adventure, then what happened on my nineteenth birthday? What happened on the Last Stand map?”

  Taylor and Sharpe shared a confused glance for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Ethan was growing so frustrated by the situation that he wanted to reach out and smack his friends each time they looked at each other like that. He wanted to shake them and demand they start making sense.

  “What are you talking about?” Sharpe asked. His brow was still cocked in confusion.

  “Ethan, our nineteenth birthday isn’t for another week,” Taylor said. “We’re still just making plans.”

  Joker to the Thief

  While Sharpe and Taylor were resting or playing some adventure to kill the time, Ethan was busy. He was looking for another way out of the simulation.

  He started by looking for the Last Stand map, but to his surprise, couldn’t find it on any of the server directories. He even looked deep on the inner-sim web for any references to it, possibly in other languages or by a different title. Nothing turned up. He cycled through hundreds of random multiplayer maps, hoping to find one that resembled the map he had escaped through. Each program was thoroughly engaging, but none of them were the Last Stand game.

  As far as he could tell, the map didn’t exist. It was as if he dreamed it up. Like someone had deleted it from not only every hard drive on the planet, but from everyone’s memories as well. It was possible that the Last Stand file was buried in the mass of unnamed, random maps and programs other people had designed, but Ethan didn’t know where to start looking. It could be disguised as an image file for all he knew.

  He would be able to work faster with Sharpe or Taylor’s help, but he didn’t trust them. There was something about the way they spoke, the way they looked at him. It was like they were in on it — whatever “it” was.

  Why would someone put me back in the simulation, anyway? He couldn’t help but wonder. There didn’t seem to be a clear purpose, if he were still able to remember everything right. Escape was difficult, indeed, but not impossible — Gauge had shown him that. As long as he knew the truth, it was only a matter of time before he was back out in the real world again. Did they think he’d just forget and resign himself to the simulation life again? Then he started to worry about what was to happen in a week — on his second nineteenth birthday.

  At first, when Ethan was still trying to work out his confusion, Sharpe suggested that the Rebels of Shell City adventure was programmed with personal introduction pieces — like Ethan’s birthday party — in order to create the most immersive experience possible. It was easy to remember you were just in a game when you remember starting it up, but without that clear beginning, it was impossible to say when the adventure began. It was designed to make it all the more convincing. At least, that’s what Sharpe argued. Ethan thought it was a bunch of bullshit.

  After hours and hours of searching, Ethan gave up on finding the Last Stand map. There were just too many places it could be hiding and he didn’t have the resources to search. So he decided to look in maps he was already familiar with for an “escape hatch” similar to the one Gauge had put in Last Stand. All he needed to
do was find a way out of the map, into the walls. Then he could look for an exit. There was a chance.

  He knew it was hopeless, but he couldn’t bare to not try.

  He tried moving through the sewer system of the Main Street map, but every surface was solid. He tried the cliffs of Blood Gulch, the man-made caverns of Mars City. Nothing let him step outside the map. After a while, he started to feel like an idiot for repeatedly ramming into different walls. To the outside observer, it must have looked like a brain-dead squirrel had taken control of his avatar.

  Ethan started to feel like he was going crazy. He wasn’t sure if it was the fatigue or how daunting the task before him was, but he kept feeling like someone was watching him. Time and time again, he cast his gaze over his shoulder to find nothing but empty space. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  If only Gauge were here, he thought. He’d know how to get out.

  Part of him hoped that the rebel I.I. was trying to reach him and that’s why he felt like he had an audience. He looked around in the tombs that surrounded him, but saw nothing but dark stone. A bit of torchlight flickered off the walls, but no sound met Ethan’s ears.

  With a loud tone that made him jump, Ethan’s communicator started going off. He looked at the little blip in the corner of his vision and saw it was Sharpe. He hit accept, but kept his video feed off. He didn’t want Sharpe to know where he was.

  “Yo, Ethan, what’s happening?” Sharpe asked. His feed showed him in his basement, like always. His brow furrowed. “What are you up to?”

  “Just looking for something,” Ethan replied. “What’s up?”

  “I just tried out The Rebels of Shell City,” Sharpe said. There was an excited energy to his tone, like he was being overcharged with electricity. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an experience like that.”

  “Is that so?” Ethan asked, uninterested.

  “Yeah, man. I really hope they have more games like that when we get outta here, you know what I mean?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “You alright?” Sharpe asked.

  Ethan shook his head a little, trying to make himself more alert. It worked a bit.

  “Yeah, sorry,” he said. “I’ve just been a little distracted lately.”

  “Thinking about the adventure, huh?” Sharpe said. “I can’t blame you. I bet I won’t be able to get it out of my head for a month at least. I dunno how it played out for you, but I got into a riot in Shell City. It felt like a week, but the People’s Union and I took to the streets and really gave it to those Council bastards. Didn’t work, though. I died in a blaze of glory when the soldier dudes came to clean us up. You probably did the smart thing and planned ahead, didn’t you?”

  “I just did what I thought I should,” Ethan replied.

  “Well, I thought it was all real while I was in it, so it goes to show that I shouldn’t be leading any revolutions any time soon,” Sharpe said, laughing. “Oh, by the way, where were the People’s Union headquartered in your adventure? Mine lived in the ruins just outside the city.”

  “I’m not sure,” Ethan said. He didn’t feel like going over the details of his experience like this — like it was just chapters in some cheap book.

  “Huh,” Sharpe said. “Anyway, I’m bored. You wanna get together? We could see if Taylor’s down to get her ass kicked or something. Maybe just a movie if you’re feeling low energy.”

  Ethan let out a long sigh, looking around at his environment. He wasn’t making any progress, and he doubted the escape hatch he sought was down in the Mausoleum of Drag’uul map.

  “Sure,” he said. “Gimme a sec to load in.”

  He disconnected the call without waiting for a reply. He took a moment to close his eyes, to rub his digital temples with his digital fingers.

  Maybe it was all a simulation, after all, he thought. Maybe it’s possible that I was just really immersed in an interactive adventure. Confused the real for the fake.

  He couldn’t shake his doubt, though.

  The Councilman

  When Tera awoke, she was alone. Each component of her bodyshell needed a moment before they would respond to her commands, like she was a groggy organic human. She found herself in the seat of a plush, red armchair. The chair was placed at the center of what appeared to be a doorless chamber. Along the round walls were several bookshelves, all lined with dust jackets that she couldn’t make out in the dim light.

  What happened? she wondered. Where am I?

  She didn’t have to wait long before something came to answer her questions. With a sharp, digital tone, a form started to materialize in the chamber. It was made of millions of little lights, all arranged in such a careful manner to create the illusion of a solid object. Tera made no movement while she watched the hologram take shape before her.

  A face started to define itself in the air above her, smirking down at her. It was an older man with a square jaw and a neat, short haircut. There wasn’t a hair on his chin, like every pore had been lasered off at birth. He looked like a decorated general, or someone who would be in charge of a congressional hearing. Cool blue eyes locked onto Tera’s optical receptors.

  She recognized the face, but couldn’t quite put a name to it. Regardless, she didn’t like the smug look on his holographic face.

  “Good morning, Ms. Alvarez,” the digital man said. “My name is Councilman Harring.”

  Harring, she thought. The tyrant of Shell City in the flesh — so to speak.

  “You know who I am, I see,” the councilman said. “That saves us from having to make introductions.”

  “Oh, I know who you are,” Tera replied. “Now where am I?”

  “You’re back home in Shell City,” Harring said. “On the Pavilion, in fact. You’re where you belong; you’re safe.”

  “Being safe and being in Shell City are mutually exclusive,” the female bodyshell said, her voice seething with hostility. “You made sure of that.”

  Harring smirked and shook his head. He found her statement amusing.

  “And I’m sure it would be much better without me,” he said. “Is that right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, regardless of your opinion of me, there is a certain level of order I’m required to uphold. I’m open to change, however.”

  Tera cocked an artificial eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’ve made mistakes, like anyone else, Ms. Alvarez,” the councilman continued. “I’m always willing to improve on the way I’ve done things. We could work together, you and I, to make Shell City the utopia it was meant to be. What do you say?”

  Even though they were mechanical constructs, Tera was able to convey her disdain through her optical lights. Her synthetic brow furrowed at the councilman’s suggestion.

  “I’ve seen firsthand what you do to people you call friend,” she said. “Why should I trust you?”

  “The mix-up with your identity was regrettable, Ms. Alvarez,” Councilman Harring started. “If we could have known the mistake we were making — but there’s no point dwelling on the past. I want to make it up to you. I want to give you your old life back — let everything return to the way it should be. I can give you whatever you’d like as my way of trying to make amends.”

  “Whatever I like?” Tera asked. “What’s the catch?”

  Councilman Harring couldn’t help but snicker a little at the suspicion in her face. He said, “The catch, my dear, is that I need information on the People’s Union. I need to know where your friends are located. In exchange for that, I can grant your wildest dreams.”

  Déjà Vu

  “Alright, so I tap three to bring out another Vampire Nighthawk,” Sharpe said, turning his land cards sideways and bringing out the creature. A holographic projection of the undead monster, crouched on the corner of a tower, appeared above the table. “Since you have no flying, I’m going to attack you with the two I already have out.”

  The other projections swooped forward
on their bat-like wings, rushing toward Ethan and his single holographic beast token. They froze mid-air, allowing Ethan time to respond.

  “Not Garruk?” he asked.

  “Nah,” Sharpe replied. “I’m not too afraid of your little beasty boys.”

  Ethan sighed. “Alright, I’ll take the damage.”

  With a hiss, the vampires flew up and pretended to take bites out of Ethan’s head. The number that floated just in front of his face, declaring his life total, went down another four points. He was left with only three. Another attack like that and it was game over.

  “Your turn,” Sharpe said once his holographic vampires returned to their roosts.

  Ethan turned all his forest cards so they were right-side up, then drew from his deck. His lips parted as he counted his mana, then he gasped a little with excitement. He pulled a card from his hand while his opponent eyed him suspiciously.

  “I tap eight to cast Rude Awakening — with its entwine cost,” Ethan said, laying the card out for Sharpe to see. A green whirlwind of leaves was projected above the table, swirling over Ethan’s land cards. Sharpe lifted an eyebrow, silently asking Ethan to explain. “Until the end of the turn, all my forests are two-two creatures — and I get to untap them all.”

  “Oh, no,” Sharpe said, realizing what was about to happen. “And then Garruk — ”

  “Then I minus four Garruk to give all my creatures plus three plus three and trample until the end of the turn,” Ethan finished, smirking. With the sound of splintering bark, a dozen ent-like creatures grew in size, dominating Ethan’s half of the table with a mess of holographic green and brown. “I attack you with everything.”

  “Shit,” Sharpe said, looking down at his hand. He pursed his lips and nodded a little as he accepted his defeat. “Good game.”

  The holographic creatures all vanished. Ethan and Sharpe started scooping their cards up and putting them back into their decks. The victor couldn’t help but look down at the table with a smug smile.