by Vern Buzarde
Tess briefly allowed herself to contemplate the ramifications of failure. Then she willed it out of her head and concentrated on the task at hand. She opened the basis of design file and scrolled to the pages listing modules by category in the order they would be downloaded.
Developing the five modules had taken up much of the team’s time, and all had been exhaustively peer reviewed internally. Tess expected extreme volatility in the beginning. Anything could happen, and things could quickly get messy. The magnitude of it all made her tremble slightly.
She looked at the clock. An hour and twenty-two minutes had passed. She tried to remember whether it was Wednesday or Thursday. She hadn’t slept in at least forty hours…or was it more? She wasn’t sure. It really didn’t matter. The days would undoubtedly run together in that strange, disorienting skew when their sleep-starved brains overcompensated with adrenaline. That and a burning desire to succeed.
It was a world Tess knew well.
18
Milo peered out over the Santa Monica coastline from outside his airstream trailer, basking in another glorious sunset as the giant pink disc sank into the horizon. People from all walks of life in every shape and size wandered below. He scanned the crowded beach, searching for figures that resembled him and his mother all those years ago. This had been their special place. She loved it here.
“Maybe we’ll see a movie star,” she’d say, although even as a kid Milo knew movie stars didn’t hang around public beaches in this part of California. But she never gave up hope.
He felt calm watching children as they dug sand with red plastic shovels and filled blue buckets painted with pictures of fish, dumping them randomly, often on each other. Some chased the tide as it advanced, then retreated, racing the water and each other. Their excited squeals rose with the gentle evening breeze. Parents followed with towels or sunscreen or water bottles. Seagulls circled, screeching aggressively as they scavenged for discarded food. So peaceful.
Milo closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. His airstream, overlooking the California coastline, was one of his favorite places on Earth. He could still remember the first time he saw it. When he was young, he and his mother left Tuscaloosa, Alabama, traveling for weeks, stopping when they ran out of gas money or the old Ford Falcon broke down. She would take a waitressing job or work as a maid, anything she could get so they could save enough to move on. They spent the whole summer making their way west, their money running out frequently.
When they finally arrived, Milo had been totally overwhelmed by the enormity of the Pacific, lined by the clean sandy beaches. He felt as though he was home for the first time in his life. Milo was six years old that summer and had never been to school. His mother enrolled him that fall. He was quickly identified as gifted and began climbing swiftly through the public school system.
His mother got a job at a jelly factory, and then she died of mesothelioma when he was eleven. He remembered understanding the disease better than she did, along with her limited prospect for survival. Etta Ackerman’s only legacy was Milo. In every other way, her life had been unremarkable and forgettable. Any trace of her presence on Earth existed only in Milo’s consciousness, a fact he found oddly beautiful.
He went into the trailer and opened a laptop, repeating his standard routine for logging on to the site. The time was 7:58 p.m. The viewer count was over fifteen million and climbing. He typed, and the well-known image of the Helix Robotics facility filled the screen, an aerial view from a drone. The camera zoomed in. Because of the magnification, the drone’s minor movements were exaggerated, shifting and tilting the image.
Milo loaded his updated manifesto, preparing to formally declare his war on technology to the millions logged on. As the clock on the computer flashed 8:00, the Helios building shuddered. Dirt and dust rose around its base. The lights on the building flickered and went dark. Electrical sparks were followed by roiling black smoke near the roof. Seconds later, aggressive orange flames escaped, lighting up the night.
Milo typed:
The human race will not survive the current course toward destruction. If not corrected, doom is inevitable. We are becoming slaves to the technology we create. Our time is running out. We are declaring war on the technological machine. Read our manifesto and join us.
We are the Enlightened Path.
Milo watched the comments roll in:
Awesome
Where do I sign up?
This is more CGI, right?
Let’s kick their asses!
War is coming!
I thought this was a porn site
I want to join. How do I contact you?
Free Ted Kaczynski! He was right all along!
Milo logged off and destroyed the laptop. The hacked drone would head straight toward the ocean until its batteries died. If by some chance it was recovered, there was no way to trace who had controlled it.
He turned on the television. His handiwork was already plastered on the screen, recorded by a news helicopter. Flames and smoke billowed through broken windows and doors and multiple ruptures in the roof. After a few minutes, a reporter arrived on the scene. The news anchor asked, “Kate, any word on casualties?
“No, Tom. We have been unable to find a spokesman for the company. At this point, I’m not sure anyone really knows how many people may have been here at this time of night. We’re hearing reports that it’s possible only a skeleton crew of maintenance and security guards were inside the building, but—”
The anchor cut her off. “Kate, sorry to interrupt, but we’re receiving word that several terrorist organizations have claimed responsibility. Just a reminder to our viewers, it is our policy here at KREN not to publicize the names of individuals or organizations responsible for acts of terror. But we’re being told all of the groups claiming credit are unfamiliar to local and federal authorities.”
Two hours later, Milo watched as an army of firefighters and police filled the streets around the center. The anchor and reporters continued to improvise, as everything known about the explosion and subsequent fire had been repeated numerous times.
This reporter was clearly trying to come up with something new to say when she was cut off by the anchor. “Kate, we are getting word…” He repositioned his earpiece. “We’re hearing there have been multiple attacks on companies and businesses in Silicon Valley. Apparently small groups armed with Molotov cocktails have been targeting some of the tech giants, as well as retail outlets selling their products. It’s not clear if this is related to the Helix bombing, or simply random violence inspired by it.”
Kate broke in. “Tom, I have been contacted by someone claiming to be the bomber. I’m going to speak to him off-air and try to confirm his claim. He says he can provide information that only the bomber would know, along with information about the group calling itself Enlightened Path.”
“Damnit, Kate, we don’t say the names of the—”
“Tom,” Kate cut him off again, almost cheerfully, “I have just been informed that all eight personnel who were scheduled to be inside last night were evacuated several minutes prior to the explosion. An anonymous call came in, warning them. All eight are reported to be safe and uninjured.”
“Well, Kate, that is certainly good news. Absolutely fantastic. I’m being told our colleague Henry Alexander has more.” Henry had retired from his anchor position more than ten years earlier, but management liked to bring him in for major events to lend an elder statesman gravitas to these situations. “Henry, what can you tell us?”
“Tom, I just heard from a very credible source that this attack is the direct result of Helix’s declining support for the Nisi Cochleum movement.” He pronounced the name slowly, enunciating the words. “I’m told—”
Tom cut him off. “Henry, we don’t say the names of any terrorist groups. Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, we weren’t able to catch that
in the delay. Our policy—” Tom touched his earpiece. “What? Jesus! Ladies and gentlemen, we are told Nisi Cochleum is in fact Latin for ‘save the snails.’ We apologize it slipped through, but obviously it was some sort of sick joke.”
Henry was being escorted off the set, in camera view, by a young producer.
Milo couldn’t help but chuckle. The level of absurdity in the news coverage was something he never anticipated.
Kate was trying to get the anchor’s attention, unaware she was visible to the audience. She was disheveled, having been on the air for hours now but refused to give up the limelight to another reporter. A wild shock of red hair stuck out of her head like a flaming arrow. The wind and smoke had coated everything with a thin film of ash, including her forehead, which looked like an emptied ashtray when the camera lights came on. She cursed at the cameraman, then smiled, having received a cue or signal. “Tom. Tom, I have some new information. I’ve been told—”
Milo smiled. He was overjoyed, pleased with the “save the snails” stunt and envious he hadn’t called it in. So perfect! He turned the television off, proud of the way the first act of his opera was unfolding.
***
Every muscle in Tess’s body tensed when the reporter mentioned Enlightened Path. She remembered Natalie’s words: the path to enlightenment. After all this time, a possible lead, only a tiny thread, but she instinctively felt there was a connection.
For the first time, there was something tangible to investigate. And if all went well, Prajna would be fully functional in a matter of weeks. The most powerful machine ever created would be at her disposal. This was what she had been waiting for. Her enemy had exposed themselves.
19
Tess felt a hand on her shoulder and heard, “Dr. Carrillo. Tess. Tess…we’re ready.” She tried to ignore it, to remain in this place, so familiar now. A better place, where a woman who could be her lived with a man who could be Ryan. A different life but more real every time—so perfect. If only I could stay. That song. Ryan singing that hypnotic song. She could still hear it. Let me stay a little longer.
Tess opened her eyes, recognizing Jeannie. She checked the timer on her phone and realized the download of Module 1 should be finished. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling of waking up in the wrong place.
“Wow, Tess, you were really out. For a minute I wasn’t sure I could wake you up. Like you were in a coma or something.”
“Thank you, Jeannie,” she said. “Give me five minutes.” Tess rubbed her eyes, waiting for the fog to clear and realized she’d slept for seven hours. A new record? But something had changed. She felt different, like part of her had stayed in the sleep world.
Tess entered the packed control room. All twenty-four team members were already there, some at workstations, others standing against the wall in the back. Arriving last felt wrong. She didn’t like it. Nevertheless, her excitement was mounting. Soon they would be living in another world. Just what that world looked like was about to be revealed.
Sandeep smiled at Tess. “It’s like when my sister went into labor. This is happening. There’s no turning back now. One way or another, something’s coming out.”
Tess smiled and glanced at the monitor at Module 1’s overview.
Formal Sciences
1.1Computer Sciences
1.2Mathematics
1.3Statistics
“All right,” she said, “let’s start welcoming our baby to the world. Sandeep, please enter the five problems per the procedure.”
Sandeep typed, paused, turned toward the group, and said, “Here goes.”
All eyes were on the big monitor. The answers to the five problems appeared.
“So far so good,” Tess said. “Okay, now something more complex.”
“Quadratic equations, loading now,” Sandeep said. The answers popped onto the screen again. Sandeep confirmed their accuracy, then asked, “Should we give it—”
Before he could finish the LEDs on Prajna’s surface came to life. The holograph sparked, strobed several times, then displayed tens of thousands of multicolored numbers. They hung in the air, gently drifting, glowing like phosphorous plankton. Everything started to rotate, slowly at first, then coalesced into a three-dimensional swirl.
The speed increased, and the numbers swelled and shrank, their colors changing when they clashed, seeming to compete for positions at the top of the vortex. Numbers spun and inverted, rose and fell, continuing to build velocity. Equations formed and disappeared. Numbers connected, then exploded, falling like digital rain, immediately replaced by a new set. Tess tried to find a pattern or meaning, but it was all changing too fast.
The team watched in stunned silence. The cyclone grew more chaotic, and Tess considered discontinuing the test, sensing the machine didn’t quite have control over itself, like discovering it could fly but unsure of how to land.
The cyclone narrowed, the numbers a dense vertical coil, each competing to rise, fighting for positions at the top. The rope thickened, twisting and oscillating. The roiling numbers blinked with such intense luminosity people had to squint. A few became dizzy and had to turn away. What was happening was unprecedented, the experience so immersive Tess feared they were being swept up in a storm they couldn’t control. She had an uncomfortable sense they were nearing a flash point.
Tess motioned for Sandeep to initiate the shutdown procedure, but as she did, everything froze. The numbers suspended in midair. The team was motionless, waiting. Without warning, the cyclone exploded, numbers flying like shrapnel. Everyone reacted, flinching, ducking, turning away, covering their heads with their arms, instinctively bracing themselves for a deluge of debris to come crashing through the glass. But nothing happened.
The remaining dense soup of colors faded into nothingness. The LED lights went dark.
The stunned team was silent for several seconds, then broke out in wild applause.
“What…the fook…was that?” Angus said. Even he seemed impressed.
Byron wore a goofy grin on his face before catching himself and replacing it with his trademark scowl.
Jeannie clapped. “Can we see it again? Whatever it was, can you make Prajna do it again?”
Tess replayed the scene in her mind. The numbers, the colors, the equations. Were they random? She hadn’t seen a pattern, yet something was familiar.
“Tess,” Sandeep said, “what did we just see? And why?”
Tess moved closer to the glass separating the control room from Prajna below and shivered, certain she was staring at a living entity. In a tone barely above a whisper, she said, “I think maybe…it was dreaming.”
20
“And… the natural sciences module is complete, Tess.” The room had been packed for over an hour in anticipation of another dizzying display. The atmosphere was more like a carnival road show than a high-tech lab. “We could sell tickets,” Sandeep said.
The control room monitor displayed:
Natural Sciences
2.1Biology
2.2Chemistry
2.3Earth Science
2.4Space Sciences
2.5Physics
Tess couldn’t help but notice several of the team were closer to each other than the cramped room required, for the first time aware romantic relationships were still occurring around her. Or sexual interludes, at least. Locked up together, working long hours. Physical relationships were inevitable.
Tess was sure there had been some wild sexual themes in her dreams but only remembered bits and pieces. An intimate physical relationship seemed distant and unlikely here, although her life in the dream was more like home each time. She felt guilty.
It’s him…but it’s not.
“Sandeep,” Tess said, “please ask Prajna to activate the holograph and create a 3D model of the solar system.”
“Awesome!” S
andeep beamed his approval of the idea, typed some keys, and said, “Here we go.”
The LEDs blinked, then stopped. They waited in silence for three minutes. Nothing happened.
“Are you sure the module loaded completely?” Tess asked. “Maybe you should—”
The holograph exploded with a backdrop of thousands of stars. Planets began to form, all with an astonishing level of resolution. Tess wanted to touch them. The sun burned fiercely in the center, so realistic she expected to feel heat. The planets danced in their assigned orbits, their axes adjusting as they rotated.
“Beautiful!” someone exclaimed.
Tess thought the holograph seemed so real, it was like they were actually floating in space. A few of her team members were dizzy and slightly nauseated, their equilibrium challenged by the movement.
“Let’s expand our view of Earth,” she said. “Isolate it and zoom from one hundred miles.” Sandeep typed some keys, and their planet filled the room below. The continents were clearly distinguishable, shaded with the most beautiful colors Tess had ever seen. They had all seen lesser simulations of it, but nothing compared to the magnitude of this.
“Tess,” Sandeep said, “can we try something more challenging? Maybe the galaxy? The Milky Way?”
Prajna did seem to have better control this time, but Tess still wanted to take it slowly. They watched for several more minutes.
“Okay, Sandeep,” she said. “Go ahead. Let’s have a look at Prajna’s Milky Way.”
Sandeep hit enter, and constellations filled the holograph. Multicolored gases and a dizzying array of blinking stars of various sizes and luminosity appeared. The beauty and intensity scared her slightly. Once again, she reminded herself of the need for caution.
Jeannie pointed to the upper-right corner. “Is that a black hole?”