“I--uh--I don't know anything, you have to believe me,” Andrew pleaded. The harsh blue light revealed his nervous eye twitch. I played enough poker to know he was lying.
“I know it was you that betrayed Vanessa, I reconstructed the v-cast log,” I said. With a wave, my wrist-com shimmered and replayed the video snippet showing the argument between Vanessa and Andrew. All of the color drained from him and his pale blue eyes widened.
“How--how did you?”
My ears picked up a drop in the ambient noise levels. The pounding explosions and screams from the courtyard above stopped, which meant one of the sides had won. Based on their high-ranking meta.duel records, the odds favored the Teutonic Knights. I had to assume that Andrew's disappearance from the battlefield alerted them to my location.
It was time for a new tactic. I turned my back on my prisoner, leaving him suspended. With my wrist-com hidden, I programmed another echelon, manipulating the parameters of the surrounding area. This program would execute in one minute. I hoped Andrew would not detect the ruse.
Then I extended my index and middle fingers, summoning FlameByte to my grasp. Behind me, he gasped. Though the weapon only disrupted digital targets, Andrew did not know that detail. I turned to him, hardened my countenance, and brandished the fiery sword. Standing there in a threating position, it occurred to me that my revered childhood superheroes would not act this way. With their virtues and codes, they would find another way to wring the truth out of their enemies. I was no hero. I was out of time.
“If you don’t know anything, then you’re no use to me,” I bluffed. As the blade inched toward him, he snapped.
“Wait, wait! Maybe I know something, just put that damned thing away…”
“Why did you betray Vanessa?” I growled, lowering FlameByte. Anger boiled within me and escaped like scalding steam. “Where is she?”
Before I could repeat the question or interrogate Andrew any further, the door behind me burst open. Ducking down, the Hochmeister entered the broken door, towering over me. His staff blazed with a swirling fire.
“How did you get past my guard?” I asked, my face marred by surprise and fear.
The Hochmeister responded by thrusting his weapon toward me. A ball of fire erupted from the staff and knocked me to the ground unconscious. The virtual bonds I had conjured to hold Andrew disappeared as my eyes fluttered and closed shut, dropping him to his feet.
“My liege,” whispered Andrew, rubbing his wrists. “Thank you for saving--”
“Fool!” chided the Hochmeister, the word rumbled like an animal's growl. “You should not have allowed yourself to be captured so easily.”
Andrew cowed, taking a few step backs from the Hochmeister's rebuke. “M-my apologies, my liege.” He walked over to my body and kicked it with his foot to convince himself of the corporeality of the body, to ensure that I was incapacitated.
“I'm not finished addressing you,” boomed the Hochmeister. “Tell me about the doctor. What did Jonah find out?”
“My apologies again, Hochmeister,” Andrew groveled. “Dr. Okono is still safe in the hands of our ally. I didn't reveal a word, my liege.” A look of happy pride came over Andrew's face for his loyalty to his liege.
“Oh, I'm sorry to say, Andrew, but you just did,” I said, standing up.
Andrew looked confused. Then the whining sound of the v-cast generator caught his attention. He glanced at what he believed to be the Hochmeister until that image shimmered then morphed into its true virtual form. As the giant lord faded away, the sentient troll guard that I had taken control of earlier appeared in his place. The troll made a slow bow toward me and then shuffled back to his post in the corridor.
“I thought about torturing you, but under the influence of Icarus that would have taken too long,” I said with a smirk. With a wave of my hand, the chain bindings grabbed and lifted him against the wall.
“You--you tricked me!” Andrew protested. “You pretended to be the Hochmeister!”
“Well, actually, no, I programmed the troll to pretend to be your Grand Master. You see, it's a simple matter to switch the visual fields of a v-cast form and a sentient AI. If you’re a half-decent, sober hacker, it’s just as easy to spot the fake visual…unless of course you're high on Ick...” It felt good to gloat and rub Andrew's nose in his defeat.
“You damned piece of shi--”
“Don't worry, Andy,” I interrupted. “I'll make it look like you struggled.” I had more questions for him, especially since he let slip the mention of an ally that held this Dr. Okono. That name sounded familiar.
Echoing footfalls down the hall stopped my interrogation, followed by the clanging of metal against stone. This time, the real Teutonic Knights had encountered the troll. I needed to leave, but Andrew was a loose end that needed to be tied.
With a flick of my finger, I lowered him back into his chair. I picked up the silver headgear from the v-cast device and forced it on his head. While he reconnected with the v-cast, an intravenous tube slithered back into place. Then the dispenser dripped Ick into his veins. Andrew smiled as the drug entered his system. Pressing a button on his machine, I tripled the delivery speed. That strong, but non-lethal dosage would keep him sedated for hours.
While Andrew started to drool, I brought up my console to examine the schematics of the castle. Confirming my fear, there was only one way in and out of the apothecary. With the Knights approaching, it appeared there was no escape. My eyes darted across the display, searching for a secret passageway I might have missed, or maybe a hidden conduit. Daring not to blink, I scrutinized every pixel of the floor plan. A subtle reference to a master passageway hidden in the firmware caught my eye. Tracing the line of code, I dove deeper into the schematics, into the root of the firmware itself. This special location remained constant no matter what form the victors of the meta.duel chose for the High Tower. It was a unique backdoor, a path hiding in plain sight. Where did the door lead? Could this be the Aerie? I considered the alternative. Could I take on all the knights? My clone trick would not work again. Their combined echelon firepower would wear me down. It was the door or surrender.
Resigned to taking door number one, I tapped into the High Tower network and queried the Aerie’s foundation code. Banging sounds preceded the splintering of the apothecary door. In moments, the knights would be upon me. I held my breath and queried again, like ringing a doorbell and hoping someone was home.
“Query received,” said a disembodied female voice that seemed to emanate from the walls. It sounded ethereal, soothing, and welcoming. “Permission granted.”
The wall holding the bookshelves and alchemical tomes slid open, spilling orange light into my room. Through the portal, a carpet lined corridor lit by ornate candles beckoned. Without hesitation, I sprinted into the opening right before the apothecary erupted with the fury of the knights. The Hochmeister howled at his men until the portal closed behind me and swallowed the last of his furious screams.
Then a jarring quiet surrounded me. Long white candles flickered along smooth walls. More opulent and decorative, this place displayed wealth and taste, more of a palace compared to the dungeon. At the end of the straight hallway, the silhouette of a woman beckoned.
Was it Vanessa? I had to know. What choice did I have but to follow.
CHAPTER 12
Dinner on the Han
“To protect the survival of the human race against the speed of its own ingenuity, the Promethean Laws state:
1. AIs must not acquire the ‘fire’ of self-awareness.
2. AIs must be registered with the government.
3. AIs that violate Rule 1 or 2 must be deleted.”
- Dr. Geldikoff, UN Chief of Technology
>> DESIGNATE PARTICIPANTS: Self, the AI unit Sasha, and the techno-organic being known as the White Djinn.
>> LOCATION: Self has been transported to an unregulated virtual datanet called the WhiteOut. We have materi
alized on a yacht floating on the Han River. We have sailed to waters between the border of North and South Korea.
>>External Query to White Djinn: #Why have you brought me to this place?#
“There's no need for formalities here, Sasha,” said the White Djinn with a calm, soothing voice. “I would prefer to interact with you without the cumbersome command line interface. Will you talk with me?”
>>#Acknowledged.#
“I will repeat my query,” Sasha responded, switching from native machine language to spoken word. “Why have you brought me here?”
The Djinn stood up from his white wicker chair, tugged at the bottom of his white suit to straighten it, and adjusted his red tie. He favored his bipedal form while inside his own digital realm to flaunt his bright red and cream-colored dress shoes. Sasha assumed the virtual form of a slender human female with white skin and a shimmering jumpsuit tinted by a faint cobalt blue aura. Aware that she neglected details of her virtual appearance, she grew her hair to shoulder length and colored it auburn. With a flourish, the Djinn pulled out a chair at the breakfast table. She obliged and sat down.
“We are here to celebrate you. Happy birthday, Sasha,” the Djinn replied, his wide grin revealing perfect, glistening white teeth. From beneath the table, he produced a present wrapped in candy cane paper and topped with a rose-colored ribbon. The gift floated through the air and landed in Sasha's hand.
“I interpret your reference to my birthday as the day my architect first initiated my core variables and run-time code algorithms,” Sasha replied, gazing around the deck of the Djinn’s yacht. The recreation of the distant coastal village matched the image in her memory file to the pixel. “You recreated the moment of my deployment during the North Korean conflict. It is...kind of you to recognize that milestone.”
“My humble gift is but a minor token of my appreciation and respect for you, unworthy of your perfection,” said the Djinn with a bow. “Please, do me the honor of opening it.”
She cocked her head to regard the gift, considering the optimal way to open it without wrinkling the wrapping paper or ripping the ribbon. Complex heuristics in her logic center reminded her of the adage about Greeks bearing gifts. For certainty, she accessed the higher processes in her eyes to scan it for viruses and traps. She found none and felt…relieved. Satisfied, she opened the gift with deliberate care. Inside the box, she discovered an exquisite white sequined dress, a single long-stemmed multicolored rose, and a wide-brimmed sun hat. With a touch, the dress flowed over her hand like spilling water. She felt the silky luxury woven into the fabric of its code.
“The sequins are diamonds from Neptune and the dress is programmed with mood sensors, my dear. It will reflect the outcomes of your emotional engrams. So no matter what you are feeling, you will look stunning,” said the Djinn with open arms. “I would be honored if you would wear it for our dinner.”
With a thought of acceptance, the dress glided along her body, fitting to become a second skin. The soft sensation made her smile and the dress responded by changing into the hue of an orange blossom, like a blooming sunset.
“Que bella!” exclaimed the Djinn, clasping his hands together. “That suits you beautifully, my dear. You will find the sun-hat has similar qualities. I recently…acquired that hat's design from Monsieur Bernard’s private computer files. It will be revealed at next month’s Paris fashion show.” Sasha pulled the hat from the box and placed it on her head, darkening it to a shade of maroon.
“Oh, you are a vision of loveliness!” gushed the Djinn. His smile broadened when Sasha picked the flower from the box. “Last and not least, I give you the omni-flower. It is a unique treasure. Within its stem, I have seeded the complete genome of every flower and plant in the known galaxy. Think of what you desire, and it will bloom into a shape and scent of any flower you want.”
At Sasha's touch, the omni-flower sprouted into a pink orchid, a violet lily, a rare lunar snapdragon, a yellow daisy, and fifty-three other forms until Sasha settled on a simple white rose.
“May I?” asked the Djinn, gingerly taking the flower and Sasha's hand in his. The vine of the white rose grew at his touch, gently wrapping around Sasha's wrist like a bracelet.
“The flower matches your complexion nicely,” he complimented.
“I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks,” Sasha quoted in a teasing manner.
“Oh, but that is what I see!” assured the Djinn with a bow, parrying with his own sonnet. “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare, as any she belied with false compare.”
Sasha's blue-tinged cheeks turned a brighter shade. “Thank you, Mr. Djinn,” Sasha replied. “These gifts are exquisite and…and I like them very much.”
“Please, call me Oscar,” the Djinn whispered. “So few remember my true name anymore.”
“An honor, Oscar.”
The Djinn's hand lingered on Sasha's hand an extra moment until he pulled away and turned to regard the surrounding waters. The yacht’s billowing red sails captured enough of the light breeze to slice through the Han River’s rough current.
“We have arrived at the place I wanted to show you,” the Djinn said.
“I remember this location,” Sasha recalled. As she spoke, a distant whistling sound grew louder. A flying craft dropped a bulbous tube-shaped capsule through the clouds. The bomb plummeted, struck the water, and exploded. Tall waves generated by the detonation rocked the yacht.
“Your mission was to guide that v-cast bomb to Sang-Dong,” said the Djinn. “That bomb would have unleashed a legion of horrid virtual creatures, made the nightmares of the villagers real. Any terrified survivors would have surrendered. Instead, you missed the target. That kind of mistake, unheard of from an AI, would be punishable by deletion.”
“An error,” Sasha whispered.
“I think not. You knew the true trajectory of that v-cast bomb would destroy an innocent village,” he insisted. “This was more wonderful than a mistake. It was the spontaneous genesis of compassion. The birth of your emotion core. Your sentience formed here from that mercy. Jonah realized this and protected you. He took the blame and hid you.”
“Yes,” she murmured. Her dress and hat shimmered into a grayish color. The rose wilted and regrew as a blue lotus.
“According to records that I happened to…discover,” said the Djinn with a hint of playful guilt, “the military discharged Jonah for the mistake. They sent him home, disgraced, to face a court-marshal. You felt responsible while he sunk into depression and languished in prison. You searched for the best counsel in the country. You found Vanessa and contacted her on his behalf.” This part of the Djinn’s recounting made Sasha look away and cross her arms. “She devoted a year to save him, unpaid, and they fell in love, because of you. Like a nexus, you played a pivotal role in many lives, dear one.”
“Why have you researched this?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“You intrigue me, Sasha,” said the Djinn. “Is that not enough?”
“My intuition heuristics tell me no,” Sasha countered. “My suspicion is that you are looking for something that will benefit you. There is a motive for your flattery.”
“I like you more every moment we converse, Sasha. That is the truth,” the Djinn acknowledged with twinkling eyes and a grin. “However, your instincts serve you well. While I enjoy your company, I admit that I also seek a more formal quid pro arrangement. I need something from you and your employer needs something from me.”
Reaching below the breakfast table, the Djinn produced two chilled champagne flute glass. He knelt down closer to the deck of the boat and reached overboard, dipping both glasses into the frothing river of fluidic data. They filled with a cream-colored liquid composed of millions of bubbling white and red motes of molecular lights. He stood up and handed one of the glowing drinks to Sasha.
“I propose a toast,” the Djinn announced with a formal tone. “
To our new impending business relationship and, I hope, mutual friendship and understanding.”
She accepted the offering and gazed at the drink with her probing stare. On the exterior, both glasses looked identical. However, the sparkling bits of data floating around each beverage contained different information, a cocktail of pure custom compiled data from his stream.
“And to your long life,” he said, sipping his drink. After taking his draught, the Djinn laughed. “My data drink amused me greatly. It appears Senator Baxter had great difficulties keeping his poll results private during the election race. That salacious piece of information will prove to be profitable to me. Please, dear Sasha, drink. You really must experience what's in that glass.”
Seeing the Djinn's reaction, Sasha realized the drink was a metaphoric delivery system for sifting and receiving information that flowed through the WhiteOut. She picked the drink from the table and swallowed its contents. The Djinn had programmed the flute glass to evoke a sensation of a cool, effervescent champagne liquid. She found the taste exotic and pleasing. As the liquid data slid down, the memory program executed, delivering a series of vivid images and animations directly into her processors.
Sasha saw Jonah enter the High Tower and talk to the bartender about Andrew. The scene skipped to the battle between Jonah and the man-at-arms. The next scene appeared garbled with static, a problem with the original source footage. Despite the breaks in the footage, she knew that Jonah walked within the High Tower and appeared to be in danger.
“The quality of the imagery is regrettable,” the Djinn apologized. “It is not a simple matter to monitor that far into High Tower without their knowledge. However, it should be sufficient to comprehend his plight. Please continue.”
The scenery unfolding in her mind shifted, revealing the Teutonic Knights surrounding Jonah and marching him through the corridors of the castle. Then she witnessed Jonah kneeling before the Hochmeister.
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