The Reality Incursion

by Paul Anlee

  Even over the intercom security camera, Darya could see the tears welling in Mary’s eyes. “No, Darya. He’s really dead. Trueself dead.”

  What? Darya pushed the Enter button. “Come on up.”

  While she waited for Mary to arrive, Darya made a hurried pass through the bathroom. She did her best to rearrange her long hair and wipe the sleep from her eyes, then went out to the foyer to wait for the elevator.

  The metal doors slid open, and Mary staggered out. She was sobbing uncontrollably and fell into her friend’s arms.

  Darya shuffled the two of them into the nearby living room where they collapsed onto the sofa. She tried awkwardly to calm the other woman. For her millions of years of existence, Darya still wasn’t sure how to react to grief. She passed her a tissue and let the sobs play out until the heaving slowed and the tears abated.

  Darya held Mary at arms length and searched her weepy, red, swollen eyes, looking for a sign she was ready to talk. She collected Mary’s hands in her own and took a deep breath, hoping her distressed friend would emulate it.

  “Now, tell me what happened,” she said.

  Mary blew her nose and folded the wadded tissue over and over. “That’s the thing. I don’t exactly know. Gerhardt and I were supposed to meet last night for drinks. We wanted to fine-tune the proposal for some new derivatives but he didn’t show. That’s not like Gerhardt; he’s never late. I waited half an hour and then tried his phone.

  “Some cop answered. She asked who I was, and how I knew Gerhardt. It took a lot of pressing but she finally told me his Director Campeau instantiation was shot earlier that afternoon in Manhattan.” The recollection threatened to bring on a fresh wave of tears.

  “Take your time,” Darya soothed, “I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

  Mary collected herself more easily this time. “She wouldn’t give me any more information over the phone. She told me to report to the precinct station to find out what happened and to tell them whatever I could about Gerhardt.

  “Apparently, he was involved in a fight at a café—you know how proud Gerhardt was of his martial arts skills—and some thug shot him. One of the bullets hit his heart. He bled out right there, almost instantly.”

  “That’s terrible,” Darya said. She handed her friend a glass of water and a fresh tissue. “Here, drink a little water and take another deep breath for me, sweetie. Okay?”

  She sat down beside Mary and rubbed the distraught woman’s arm with genuine tenderness. “I’m sorry. I know this must be really difficult for you, but getting it out will help you feel better, and then we can figure out what happened. “Are you okay to continue?”

  Mary nodded, and wrung the fresh tissue into a tight spiral.

  “Okay,” Darya prompted, “so he gets in a fight and somebody shoots him.”

  “I didn’t believe it either, at first. I mean, given all his training, plus that gun he walks around with, to be brought down in some bar fight? No way, that’s not Gerhardt.”

  “But you said his trueself was dead, not just his inworld self,” Darya pressed.

  “Right. Even if someone got the upper hand on him, inworld death would be just a minor inconvenience, wouldn’t it? We take our twelve-hour timeout from Alternus, and start over in another instantiation. No biggie, right?

  “So I wasn’t worried about him at all, at that point. I figured I’d pop outworld and give him a call to reschedule our meeting, and maybe give him a bit of a rough time for standing me up. I know the docking bay he uses; it’s not far from my recharge station so I drifted over there to set up a line.

  “There was no response. I tried a half a dozen times—nothing. That’s when I started to worry. Actually, I was more confused than worried. Where’d he go?” Mary looked down and twisted, untwisted, and retwisted the disintegrating tissue. “I’m embarrassed to say, I even approached bodily and bumped him, if you can believe it. I mean, who does that? But he wasn’t there, Darya. He wasn’t in his trueself body, either.” She took a shuddering breath.

  “So what did you do?” Darya asked.

  “What could I do? I returned to Alternus and put in a query about him to the Supervisor. It told me Invalid Instantiation. He’s no longer connected to this sim at all.

  “I dropped back out to the Routing Supervisor at the recharge station, to see if he’d taken a break in some other inworld or something. I don’t know why I bothered. Gerhardt would never leave me hanging like that. He would’ve at least left a message for me. I’ve never known anyone so punctual and responsible; it’s like a compulsion with him. Not even inworld death would’ve stopped him from checking in,” Mary tried to chuckle but it came out as a choked cough.

  “He’s nowhere, Darya. Not outworld, not inworld. I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, people don’t just die, right? That’s when I came here.”

  “Give me a second,” she said. She sent her own detailed query to the Supervisor.

  Invalid Instantiation—it returned. Subject did not correctly exit simulation. Dissipation detected.

  What? That wasn’t supposed to happen! Darya looked away to hide the worry written across her face.

  Even when the Securitors had crashed her dragon-killing show in Lysrandia, they’d only blocked people from leaving, they didn’t de-instantiate them. Administration did everything it could to avoid promoting substitute Partials to Fulls until absolutely necessary. To be fair, training newbies was always a pain. Replacing a talented and experienced mind with a fresh and unpredictable new persona was never done lightly.

  And why didn’t the safeguards kick in? Remembering how violent the real Earth had been in her days, Darya had designed measures that ensured trueselves could not be trapped in the Alternus inworld, especially not her team members. They were supposed to have a way out if they needed it. Always.

  She interrogated the Supervisor a little deeper. She queried its stored version of events in the café. She replayed Gerhardt’s conversation and the fight with Trillian and his henchmen. Her worry grew.

  “We need to shut down the Alternus inworld,” Darya said when she’d finished her review. “I don’t know how, but Shard Trillian’s hacked into the sim from DonTon, and he got past the introductory virus without being infected. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have thought that was possible, but it’s the only reasonable explanation. I’ll contact Qiwei and Leisha, and get all three of you out immediately. As soon as they’re safe, I’ll send out a System Maintenance Alert to everyone else inworld.”

  “And Gerhardt?” Mary’s lip trembled hopefully.

  “I’m sorry. I think you’re right. I think he’s really gone,” replied Darya.

  So why don’t I feel anything?—she asked herself. He was one of my oldest and dearest friends. She pressed her fists against her lap and straightened her back. No time for sorrow. I’ve got more urgent matters to attend to.

  “The Supervisor reports that Gerhardt’s return to his trueself was blocked,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Trillian had something to do with that.”

  Mary nodded. “Do you think he knows about us, too?”

  “I hope not. I’ll call Qiwei and Leisha right now and tell them to drop everything and exit to the outworld immediately.”

  Darya got up and headed into the corridor toward the bedrooms. She nearly collided with Timothy, who’d been standing there, rather awkwardly, in his pajamas.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I heard people talking,” he said softly. “I thought I could make some tea.”

  Mary turned at the sound of the man’s voice. She looked at Darya with surprise and a hint of amusement. “Ohmygosh, I’m so sorry. Have you been…entertaining?”

  Darya rolled her eyes and grimaced. “Very funny. No. Well, yes, but not the way you’re thinking. This is Timothy. He’s got a very interesting story. When we have a little more time, I’ll have him tell you.”

  “Oh, oh,” Darya added, tapping her forehead a couple of times.

  “What’s wron
g?” asked Mary.

  “Timothy’s an anomaly,” replied Darya. “When Trillian hacked into the Alternus inworld it somehow caused Timothy’s Partial, a DonTon persona, to convert into a full instantiation. I have no idea how that could’ve happened; I’ve never heard of such a thing. Regardless, Timothy has no trueself to return to. If I shut Alternus down right now, our friend here will just…dissipate.”

  Mary’s jaw dropped. “Oh. That wouldn’t be nice.”

  “Not nice? It would be murder,” Darya replied. She concentrated a second or two. “Maybe there’s a solution. I wonder if Trillian’s block on Gerhardt’s trueself is still in effect.”

  “I don’t know; I didn’t check,” replied Mary. Her eyes grew wide when she realized what Darya was thinking. “You can’t be serious!”

  “It’s the only option he has for survival,” Darya answered.

  The two women regarded Timothy.

  “He can take over Gerhardt’s body,” Darya confirmed.

  While Mary and Timothy stared at each other, Darya retrieved her cell phone.

  Damn! Lattice technology sure would be handy on Alternus right now. Unfortunately, she was stuck with the ancient system.

  I just hope Leisha and Qiwei have their phones on. She wanted them out as soon as possible. She started dialing Leisha’s number.

  “No Service Available,” the screen flashed.

  “Crap!” she said.

  “What is it?” asked Mary.

  “Cell service is out. We’ll have to go there in person.”

  “Trillian again?”

  “I don’t know; I hope not. Let’s go.” Darya sent Timothy to put on some street clothes and did the same herself. “Dress in layers,” she told him. “We may be out for a while; best to be prepared.”

  Within minutes, the three of them were in the street. The temperature was a good 15 degrees lower in the pre-dawn hours. The wind had picked up, and it was starting to rain. As they stepped outside, lightning cracked about a mile away.

  “Great.” Darya stepped back in and tried to call a taxi from the land line in the lobby, but that line was as dead as her cell. She hoped they’d be able to hail a cab.

  Out front, they scanned in both directions, but Fifth Avenue was eerily deserted. Without the usual foot and vehicle traffic, Central Park looked dark and foreboding. No way I’m going to cut through there.

  They turned down a side street and headed toward Madison and Park. It was the same in that direction: strangely silent streets, devoid of cars and pedestrians.

  This is absurd—Darya thought. New York never sleeps, not even at four in the morning. They didn’t pass a single person, and not one of the shops, clubs, or bars was open. What’s going on?—Darya wondered.

  They exchanged worried glances, but no one wanted to say anything out loud. Just as she was about to announce a change of plans, the headlights of a single car approached them along Park Avenue. It was a taxi.

  Darya held up her hand to hail the cab and, miraculously, it pulled over for them. The rear doors opened and two men got out. Darya recognized—from her review of Gerhardt’s fight—one as Shard Trillian and the other had to be one of his thugs.

  She faced them square on, and let them walk to her. Mary and Timothy cowered behind.

  Shard Trillian flashed a brilliant white smile. “Darya!” He greeted her as if they were old friends. “I have been anticipating meeting you for such a long time.” He gave a short bow in Mary’s direction. “And this lovely creature, I presume, is Mary.”

  “I think you know exactly who she is,” Darya scowled.

  “Yes,” he admitted, “though we’ve not been formally introduced.” He took notice of the tall, well-groomed man attempting to comfort Mary.

  “And I believe I recognize this adventurous young man from Casa DonTon. Did I not tell you to close that door, Timothy?”

  “You did, my Lord,” the former Footman stammered. “I’m afraid that in my excitement at being threatened by a Securitor, I disobeyed that particular order, my Lord. Or, at least, your intent. To be precise, my Lord, you said, “Would you close that, please?” And I did. Behind me, though, once I’d passed through.”

  “Interesting,” said Trillian. “My dear man, have you made the leap to persondom?”

  “Pardon, my Lord?”

  “Are you now fully instantiated?” Trillian demanded.

  Timothy stood proudly. “It would appear so, my Lord.”

  “Fascinating. I will have to discuss this mechanism with Alum, upon our return.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” interrupted Darya. She was pointing a small but efficient-looking Berretta at Trillian and his thug.

  The henchman growled at her. In reply, she shot him in the left thigh and he fell to the ground screaming, trying to stop the bleeding with his hands.

  She smiled coldly at Trillian. “He’s not a Full, is he?” She brought the barrel to bear on the Shard. “You, however, are,” she threatened.

  Trillian put his head back and laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said. “That which we make can so easily be unmade. Don’t you agree?” He stepped past the thug, who’d stopped screaming but was still struggling on the pavement.

  “I wouldn’t come any closer,” said Darya.

  Trillian’s creepy smile transformed into a wicked leer as he took two more steps.

  She aimed her pistol above his right ear and pulled the trigger. The shot was deafening in the otherwise deserted street.

  Trillian hesitated for a fraction of a second and then closed his eyes.

  Darya was puzzled by his reaction until she heard the buzzing sound.

  “Mary, Timothy, run!” she ordered.

  The two had been slowly backing away as Trillian came forward. They turned and bolted.

  Darya watched them enter a nearby alley.

  Trillian opened his eyes, and his malicious smile returned. “I’ll round up your underlings later,” he said and took another step.

  Darya aimed the gun mid-torso and pulled the trigger. There was a soft click, and another. Click, click, click, click.

  Trillian held his hands out. “Oh, that wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”

  She was sure the clip had been full. She’d only used two bullets; there should be eight more in there. Click, click, click, click.

  Trillian had been closing in the gap. He lunged for Darya.

  She took a step back and flung the pistol, backhand, at his face.

  Her fierceness took him by surprise. He batted the gun out of the air but his attention was diverted long enough for her to direct a kick at his stomach. It connected solidly, and a winded Trillian fell to his knees.

  Darya wheeled and with a sweeping kick, sent him to the ground. Without waiting to see him land, she bolted for the dark alley where her companions had gone.

  Against orders, they’d waited at the entrance. “Follow me,” she hissed and plunged deeper into the darkness. “We don’t have much time before he’s back on his feet.”

  “How’d you do that?” Mary huffed from beside Darya as she struggled to keep up.

  “I’m a warrior princess, remember?

  “So why didn’t you just knock him out or kill him?” asked a breathless Timothy from her other side.

  “He hacked the Supervisor,” Darya answered. “That move only worked because it surprised him. He’d already put up a shield by the time I pulled my foot back. Another blow wouldn’t have connected.”

  A narrow passage between two old brick buildings appeared on the left.

  “Down here!” Darya urged, and they picked their way down.

  Mary and Timothy followed as fast as they could, but Mary’s stylistic bulk and Timothy’s months of inactivity limited their speed. They were tiring quickly.

  “Ah, yes, here it is,” Darya said. She opened the third door they passed. The three of them tumbled through the door and into a small, dimly lit all-night bar/café.

&nb
sp; A few dozen patrons gave life to the space, even at this hour. Some were winding down after a late night comedy show. Animated conversations flowed among groups of college students. Solitary customers caressed their drinks or picked at their food while they people-watched.

  Darya hustled Mary and Timothy into a booth anchoring a dimly lit wall.

  “I don’t know how long we have before he finds us,” Darya said. “Mary, you don’t need to stay for this. Head back outworld, and we’ll meet up at Secondus in a few hours.”

  Mary’s eyes were filled with worry.

  “We’ll be okay,” Darya assured her. “Go!”

  Mary hung her head in resignation and nodded weakly. She closed her eyes and sent the lattice command to leave for the outworld.

  Nothing happened.

  With renewed exertion, she scrunched her brow tight and concentrated. It made no difference. The signal wasn’t getting out.

  “Darya!” she whispered. “I can’t exit!”

  38

  Darya didn’t waste a second. She closed her eyes and gave the command to return to her trueself. Her persona bounced off the barrier denying exit from the Alternus sim and right back into her inworld body.

  “I should’ve realized he’d shut us in immediately.” She chided herself. “Okay, try sending the UNHQ code, and we’ll see if you can transfer to the United Nations Headquarters. That’ll buy us some time to figure out what to do next.”

  Mary sent the transfer code. Again, nothing. Hope drained from her face. “We’re going to die here,” she said.

  “We are not going to die,” Darya replied. “First of all, I’m sure Trillian would rather take us for complete interrogation. Second, we are not going to be killed or caught. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Maybe she couldn’t upload her persona back to her outworld trueself, but that wasn’t the only way to escape.

  Darya hadn’t trusted any inworld since the events of Lysrandia. As a precaution, she’d copied her quark-spin lattice capabilities into the inworld hardware. Unlike others who came to this world with only human-level capabilities, she still had access to lattice IQ-enhancements of her own design.