The Reality Incursion

by Paul Anlee

  Mary snorted.

  “Maybe Leisha’s right.” Darya paused to allow the others to shift gears and focus. “The humans of this era were used to taking orders from the top, down, just like we are.”

  “As in, ‘Might makes right’?” chimed in Mary.

  Darya laughed. “Yes. Cybrids outworld and most humans in the Alternus inworld have no real power. We all just do what we’re told. The difference is that the leaders on Earth of this time, and therefore here on Alternus, rule according to what they think their voters want. If they sense public opinion is in favor of space colonization, they will support our proposals.”

  Leisha regarded Darya with awe. “How do you know so much? Were you around back then?”

  Darya blushed. “Not exactly, though I do have access to detailed data and memories from that time. That’s how I was able to design this mess.” She indicated the entire planet with a wave of her hands.”

  “So do you think a publicity campaign could work in our favor?” Gerhardt brought their attention back to the current topic.

  “I do,” replied Darya. “It’s worth a try, anyway. Why don’t we see if we can find some expertise among the Partials?”

  Mary nodded. “That’s a good idea. Judging by our wasted efforts in Lysrandia, we don’t know as much about PR as we thought.”

  The rest of the meeting flew by. They reviewed the growing list of personnel who’d already signed on for Space Colonization and were awaiting political approval of the project. They kicked around a few asteroid habitat design concepts but only for fun. They agreed it was essential the human Partials do most of the thinking for themselves. It would be counterproductive to contaminate the Partials’ ideas with superior technology and intellect.

  They broke off around 3:30, and went their separate ways with assigned tasks and contact lists in hand. The revised lists included individuals who had sizeable followings in a broad range of popular social media, print, or film. The list didn’t include a single politician; not one had sufficient public credibility.

  Darya grabbed the subway back to her office near the UN Plaza. Halfway there, she decided to get off and walk the rest of the way. Meandering along the way between Greenwich Village and the UN was an effective way to reset.

  The atmosphere had changed considerably over the years. The streets leading up to the UN and its coterie of well-paid employees were lined with beggars. Darya tossed a few coins to the ones she recognized. A number of them she considered friends, or nearly so, having shared lengthy conversations from time to time. They moved around within a several-block radius, so she was never sure who she might encounter on any given day, but they were a good source of strikingly alternative perspectives.

  Today’s walk revealed a new face. Darya slowed as she neared the disheveled and peculiarly dressed fellow. His soft face was carved with fatigue and he looked more out-of-place than others in the row of resigned countenances. She couldn’t recall seeing him at all before. Granted, she’d been away six months on outworld assignment and had been inundated with distracting and urgent demands on her attention since getting back.

  She deep-scanned her memories of the past year. There were no recordings of the man. Even more intriguing, when she inquired of the Supervisor, the man’s code was neither Partial nor Full. That doesn’t make sense. How could that be? Darya knew inworld Earth code substrate intimately and had been in frequent contact with the Supervisor since her return. This was a first. She wouldn’t have thought his presence here possible if she weren’t looking right at him.

  The man’s concepta and persona were rich; any passerby would have assumed he was a Cybrid inworld instantiation, though Beggar would be an odd role to choose. But she could find no link to the man's outworld trueself. Intent on resolving the mystery, she queried the Supervisor for deeper data. The immediate and succinct response was another dead end: Identity indeterminate. Origin unknown.

  Had this been some inworld sim other than the one she’d personally and meticulously designed, she could imagine a few ways this might be possible. Some inworlds were careless, leaving echoes of previous instantiations hanging around for lengthy periods. Sometimes, someone pushed the autonomy and self-referential factors of a Partial’s concepta too far, usually, in some misguided backdoor attempt to force the Instantiation Committees into declaring a Supervisor’s favorite Partial as a Full persona. The inworld she designed had none of that sloppiness. Partials and Fulls were carefully and clearly separated.

  So what is this man doing here? And how did he come to be here? She opened her mouth to ask but words failed her. “How…? What…?” She reigned in her thoughts and settled on, “Who are you?”

  Though clearly tired, hungry, and dirty, the man looked up at her with bright eyes. He stood, brushed off his clothes, bowed, and held out his hand. “Why, my name is Timothy, madam. And who might you be?”

  Despite the passing eons since she’d last encountered it, Darya recognized the accent as the ancient English of a well-bred or well-educated individual. She regarded the gently extended hand leading up to an open and friendly face, smiled, and graciously accepted his greeting.

  “Hello, Timothy. My name is Darya. You have such an unusual accent and…aura,” she ventured. “Might I inquire as to how you came to be in New York?” She surprised herself with how easily she slipped into the tone and cadence of the man’s native language.

  “Certainly, madam. I followed Mr. Trillian through the closet door from the family dining room.” Timothy replied cheerfully, as if the statement were perfectly self-explanatory. “Might you be able to spare a little change for a man who is, as these fine gentlemen would say, a little down on his luck, my Lady? I mean, madam?”

  Darya noticed the slip. ‘My Lady?’ Nobody uses that term here. As she reached into her wallet, she asked, “Where are you from, Timothy?”

  “Why DonTon, of course, madam,” he replied.

  Her fingers paused on the edge of the wallet. She recognized the name. Everyone working in the Sagittarius A* system knew that sim. It was famously difficult to join, even as a weekend guest. “Casa DonTon?” she queried. He had her full attention again.

  “The very same, madam,” he beamed. “Do you know the Chattingbarons?” His eyes were filled with hope.

  “I know of them,” she replied cautiously, “though I can’t say we’ve ever met.” She watched Timothy’s rigid posture relax. Beneath the wear and the layers of grime, the remnants of his formal white collar and tie of the Victorian era held him upright. She could not fathom how this…man?...could have crossed into the Alternus sim from DonTon.

  “Timothy,” she began.

  “Yes?”

  “What was your…role in DonTon?”

  “My role? Oh, my position.” He stood tall and proudly smoothed his scraggly beard and dusty clothing. “First Footman Timothy at your service, my Lady.” He bowed gallantly as his nearby compatriots guffawed at the sight of a beggar putting on airs.

  Darya was astounded. He’s a DonTon Partial! That explains the out of place attire and manner. But how could a Partial make the leap across inworlds? And how would a Partial become a Full instantiation in DonTon? He was a Full, there was no doubt about that.

  She ran a quick diagnostic with the Supervisor.

  No leaks detected—it reported.

  Well, that’s a relief. Darya hadn’t realized she’d tensed up until she felt herself relaxing again. If there’s no leak, how can I explain Timothy’s presence here? Wait. He said he followed someone here. Trillian. That can’t be a coincidence. Surely not Shard Trillian!

  “Timothy, you said you followed Mr. Trillian through a closet door.”

  “That’s right, my Lady,” he delivered as if Darya were a member of the English landed class of his age. She didn’t feel compelled to correct him for the moment.

  “Was Mr. Trillian a guest, then?”

  “Oh, quite, my Lady. And as handsome and gracious a guest as anyone could want. Although
he didn’t appear to have much taste for the hunt, if I may be so bold, my Lady.”

  “Hmm. And he simply opened a closet door and walked into New York, did he?”

  “Yes, indeed. I never thought that door went anywhere myself. Clearly, I was mistaken.” He hesitated a moment. “A short while before he went through, there was a strange buzzing sound and I felt some dizziness. I might have thought I fainted and dreamt all this, except how could all of this possibly be a dream?”

  “How long have you been in New York?” Darya made an effort to remain calm. A Shard—not just any Shard, but Trillian himself—bypassing her security measures and instantiating in the middle of her inworld sim was not something she looked forward to dealing with. And none of that explained how a Servitor Partial could be standing here in her sim as a full persona.

  Timothy looked down at his feet. “I’m not sure I recall exactly, my Lady. I’m afraid some of the times are a bit…unfocused in my memories. I think I’ve been here at least four months, probably more.” He looked around at his nearby friends and called out to one of them. “Bob! How long have we been working in this area?”

  “Three months,” the other man growled, and he shuffled a few yards farther down the block, muttering to himself.

  Timothy turned back to Darya. “I was here for at least a month before I met Bob. He’s been a true friend in any altercations with the other gentlemen. Before that, the details are a little hazy, I’m afraid. There was the time in the hospital…,” his voice trailed off. He looked troubled and confused.

  Darya listened to Timothy with compassion and concern, but she was also relieved. Four months and the Shard hasn’t found us yet, then. Good. “Timothy, I would like to hear the rest of your story but not here. I would like to invite you to stay as a guest at my residence.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly, my Lady,” the man protested. He looked down unhappily at his unsatisfactory state. His eyes sank, wistfully.

  “I won’t accept ‘No’ for an answer,” Darya responded. “I insist you come with me. My people will ensure your comfort and we can become better acquainted.”

  Darya turned and began to walk toward her apartment. Timothy followed dutifully, accompanied by the whistles and cat-calls of his compatriots.

  “Ho, ho! You hooked yourself a live one there, matey! Or was it the other way around?” Raucous laughter echoed down the street behind them. Darya didn’t notice.

  So, a Shard is loose in Alternus, and I’ve befriended an impossible persona. Interesting day.

  18

  Blink and, just like that, ten thousand Angels, a full Wing of Alum’s enforcers, materialized in a 25,000 km wide circle around the Cybrid asteroid station Rafael 116.4.4.

  Moments earlier, Lord Mika had been dozens of light years away, field-testing his new battle components and recent upgrades by the maintenance Cybrids. He’d been darting about the asteroid belt of his assigned system, shifting from planetoid to planetoid as fast as he could, and firing a single powerful bolt from his sword each time without stopping to assess its destruction. After annihilating over a hundred of the presumably uninhabited rocks, he retraced his flight path, analyzing the fragments to assure himself the blasts had efficiently obliterated his intended targets.

  Then, without warning, he was in a different star system in full alert. It took him a couple of milliseconds to process and adjust. Something must have tripped Alum’s passive detectors—the old mechanical switches—without the higher tech active motion sensors being activated. The pattern matched the footprint of the intruder.

  Mika’s Wing activated their quantum decoherence field generators and linked their shift blockers to create an enormous net. Blazing energy emanated from their swords, outshining the twinkle of distant stars. No one and nothing would be shifting out of their grasp this time.

  The Angel’s position as leader of the Wing put him just inside the containment field. Though his nearest neighbors over 200 klicks away were imperceptible, his internal projections showed each of their positions and statuses clearly. The trap was set.

  Mika gave the command and led the drawing of the net inward. Half the Angels shifted ten thousand kilometers closer to the asteroid, where they established a new inner perimeter. The other half subsequently shifted to just outside this shell and took over, holding the new outermost layer of the net.

  The inner group shifted another thousand klicks closer and established a new, concentric shell with only two thousand of their number. The remainder moved closer and established three more shells in the same way. By the time they were done, there were five successively smaller shift-blocking nets and a thousand Angels—the Primary Group of the Wing—inside, ready to chase their quarry.

  The maneuver had been executed beautifully. The sensors inside the Cybrid station continued to show the intruder. It was almost effortless. Mika doubted the invader was the false Shard from Gargus 718. That being had been far too competent to be caught off guard so easily. More likely something thrown at us by rogue Aelu.

  If it was from that respected, enemy civilization, it was behaving more like a single lorei—one of the Aelu’s powerfully-armed, spiny, star shaped, explorer robots—than a battle group.

  Angels were accustomed to dealing with Aelu combat groups. No 216-strong habnar would ever permit itself to be contained in such a small volume of space without engaging the enemy. A habnar would be pouring out of the asteroid station in attack formation by now.

  Perhaps it’s something new!

  Mika sent a hundred Angels—a Feather of the Primary Group—inside the asteroid to flush out the intruder. The Wing Commander linked into several perception channels of the vanguard group and followed their progress inside the asteroid.

  He watched his Angels shift within corridors and chambers, cutting off physical escape routes. Members of the Feather moved efficiently through the work chambers and connecting corridors toward the last reported position of the intruder.

  They passed working Cybrids, who made respectful inquiries as to their unexpected presence. The Angels responded by demanding identification. Lorei wouldn’t hesitate to cast an illusory image in that form if served a purpose; the Angels weren’t taking any chances that the intruder might slip past undetected.

  The intruder hadn’t tripped any new detectors in the past few minutes. According to Alum’s reports, it was in the Biodesign Lab. There was a Cybrid in the lab with it, and still no sign it suspected a trap. There was only one entrance to the lab, which led to a service corridor.

  Good for pinning down anything that can’t shift, but an easily-defended position, as well—thought Mika.

  Feather Leader Jonto moved into the lab antechamber. Dozens of Angels lined the corridor behind him, awaiting his orders. Others staked out the adjoining chambers that shared a common wall with the lab.

  Jonto peered around the threshold of the door. An Angel he did not recognize from their Wing stood beside a hovering Cybrid, deep in a conversation. Jonto was confused. He sent a query to Mika, “Is there one of us from another Wing here?”

  The reply from his Wing Commander was immediate, “No! Detain him! ”

  Three members from his Feather shifted inside the chamber and grabbed at the arms of the unknown Angel. The intruder spilled out of their grasp and flowed like liquid under the Cybrid. The liquid rose on the other side in a new shape.

  The Angels were briefly stunned into inaction.

  Not a lorei, an actual Aelo, a single member of the species! Mika recognized the tricks of the alien. The three Angels had grasped at a holographic projection, nothing more. “Go to active radar scanning,” he commanded. The Aelo sprang into sharp relief.

  Its small elliptical body perched on an articulated tripod. Above the body, three manipulators moved menacingly. It was hard not to be mesmerized by the floating limbs, each one trifurcating into smaller, more refined, appendages, all waving rhythmically. Some of the appendages extended to hair-like filaments, for fine manipulat
ion; others ended more bluntly and were tipped with tools or weapons.

  The inky black, homogenous body was otherwise featureless. From past dissections of captured enemies, the Angels knew the creatures had visual and other sensors, but no orifice or sensory organs showed from the outside at any scanning wavelength.

  Three bright beams flared from embedded weapons along the lengths of the Aelo’s manipulator stalks. One ripped into the Cybrid, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. The other two beams blasted a hole through the wall and into the adjacent chamber.

  Jonto and two others shifted to cover the next chamber. Six Angels confronted the Aelo directly, three behind and three in front. Jonto shifted to within a meter of the alien invader and thrust his sword forward. It struck empty air. The Aelo had shifted away unscathed.

  The Feather spread out through the rest of the asteroid. The intruder was spotted in seconds, but continued to shift away from engagement. It was quickly seen in dozens of different chambers throughout the asteroid.

  Mika watched with growing frustration as his lead team tried to corral the invader. As long as the Aelo could shift within the warrens of the asteroid, the Angels were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek they couldn’t win. The intruder was too fast and leading the chase.

  Mika would have to flood the halls and rooms of the asteroid with the entire Wing to have any real chance of capturing the Aelo inside the intact planetoid. To do that, they’d have to break their shift-blocking network. Then the Aelo could simply escape. The situation was impossible.

  I can simplify this game. Clear out—Mika ordered his troops. I’ll remove its hiding places.

  The Feather shifted back to outer space, well clear of the hollowed-out planetoid. Mika adjusted the power of his sword, pointed it at the heart of the asteroid station, and activated it.

  The asteroid shattered under the intense energy. Thousands of Cybrids inside perished. Only a few managed to escape the blast. The invader would be among them. Aelu were not so easy to kill as Cybrids.