by David Meyer
A pretty, vivacious girl grabbed hold of the screen, twisting it around to face her. Kayden tried to focus on the girl, but got distracted by the change in landscape. It was just so … bleak. Nothing but sand and structures, backed in the distance by a tall wall. Beyond that, even more sand.
That’s Natica, she realized.
She’d heard Titus talk about the fort, about the world at large. But this was her first real glimpse of it. And wow, what a nightmare. Who has it better? she wondered. Us, with our green grass and rich food, all of it fake? Or them, with sand and rascos, all of it real?
“Excellent work, Sorney,” Virdo said, bobbing his head up and down. “I’m glad to hear the software glitch didn’t cause too much of a hiccup.”
The girl—Sorney, apparently—offered him a shy grin. “Honestly, we never even noticed it.”
Kayden frowned. The software glitch, she assumed, was Virdo’s way of describing her attempt at building a backdoor into StarScan.
“Tell me, did your test runs uncover anything interesting?” he asked.
She beamed from ear to ear. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said. “But we didn’t uncover just one receiver. We’ve uncovered tons of them. They’re everywhere. You’re a genius, Virdo, an absolute genius.”
“It wasn’t just me,” he replied, shooting a quick glance at the still-off-screen Cormella. “I had help.”
“You never take any credit. I love that about you.” Trying not to blush, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, we did as you asked. We focused the dish in multiple directions, all along the ground. And all the while, we sent signals through the feed horn. My laptop recorded the results. I forget the exact number, but nearly all of the signals successfully contacted receivers.”
Cormella coughed very, very lightly.
Virdo shot her another glimpse, then looked back at Sorney. “Only contacted?” he asked. “Did any of the receivers accept our signals?”
She shook her head, causing her loose hair to swing from side to side. “Not yet. But we’ll keep trying.”
Another light cough. This time, Kayden noticed that Cormella had a tablet in front of her. She was touching the screen with incredible speed and dexterity.
Once again, Virdo snuck a glance to the side. Once again, he swung back to face the girl.
A puzzled look crossed Sorney’s face. “Is someone there with you?” she wanted to know.
“Nope, it’s just me.” He grinned lightly, lying with ease. “There’s a couple of people outside, making noise. It’s kind of distracting.”
The lines on her face smoothed out. “I bet you can’t wait to get back to your apartment.”
“You’d win that bet.”
She giggled in response.
“Anyway, I’m going to send a few software updates your way. Hopefully, they’ll help the receivers accept our signals. Install them and run another round of tests for me.”
“Can it wait until tonight?” she asked, shooting a glance at the sky. “It’s boiling hot out here.”
Cormella gave her head a light shake.
“I’m afraid not,” he answered. “We’re on a time crunch.”
Sorney frowned.
“Please?” he asked. “Pretty please? With sugar on top?”
She remained steady for another second, then broke out laughing. “I don’t even know what that means,” she got out between guffaws.
Neither did Kayden, at least not right away. And she certainly had no memory of ever using the expression. Even so, the meaning came to her less than a second later. It was part of her semantic memory she realized, a fact tucked deep inside of her brain. It wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had happened. And it wouldn’t be the last. Part of her welcomed it. But part of her despised it. It was just so disorienting, discovering something she hadn’t even known was there.
“Well, we found them,” BeBo said softly. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We take them down,” Kayden replied, staring hard at the back of Cormella’s head. “Haul them to jail. Then we’ll bring everyone here. Show them that Cormella’s still alive.”
Luminosity Jail was located inside of the Skyscraper. Six months ago, Cormella had tossed Jarven into one of the cells, as part of a complex plot to discover their hideout. Returning the favor sounded mighty sweet.
“That’s not a good idea,” Jarven replied.
She glanced at him. “Why not?”
“Because the Luminites don’t trust us.”
“They don’t trust Cormella, either.”
“Maybe not. But they trust Virdo. And whose side do you think he’ll take?”
“It won’t come to that,” BeBo said. “Because nobody’s coming here. Not as long as they think we’re infected.”
“For now, let’s focus on getting them behind bars,” Valhalya whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Kayden’s gaze landed on a certain machine. It held a lever, enclosed by a hinged glass case. Six months ago, she’d pulled that lever, thus ending Protocol Forty-Eight.
Seeing that lever, that symbol of her victory, emboldened her. Throwing the door wide, she strode into the room.
“Hello, there.” Sorney smiled politely at her. “Are you one of Virdo’s friends?”
“Virdo’s a snake,” BeBo replied. “He doesn’t have any friends.”
She blinked, unsure of how to respond.
“He’s just joking, my dear,” Virdo said, smoothly. “Finish those updates. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Her smile returned, albeit with some confusion. “Looking forward to it.”
He pressed a button and the screen faded to black. Then he spun around. Arching a bushy eyebrow, he fixed them with a studious gaze. “That was a smart move,” he remarked. “Pretending to be infected, then infecting me.”
“Glad you liked it,” Jarven replied, tight-lipped.
They started to jaw at each other. But Kayden barely heard a word of their conversation. Instead, her attention was fixed on a single target. The woman with her back to them. The woman ignoring them. The woman whose fingers, even at that moment, were rapidly tapping away on her tablet.
“It really is you,” she said.
The tapping stopped. Tearing her gaze from the tablet, the woman lifted her head. A single moment passed. Then she tucked the device under her arm. Whirling around, she faced Kayden.
She was as beautiful as Kayden remembered. Curly, blonde hair framed her face. Her eyes possessed a cool, almost inhuman, glint. Her outfit—blood red pants paired with a matching shirt—fit her shapely form like a glove. All the while, charisma practically oozed from her pores.
“Yes, Miss Kell.” Cormella Dodge’s voice was strong, yet feminine. “It’s me.”
BeBo took one look at her and nearly exploded with anger at Virdo. “She held us captive,” he shouted, pointing at her. “Kept us in the dark for centuries. Why in God’s name would you help her?”
Virdo shook his head. “Stop with the lies. There’s no point. It’s just us, now.”
Valhalya gritted her teeth. “He’s not lying.”
“Cormella was in charge and you didn’t like it. So, you wielded optogenetics like a weapon. You manipulated Luminosity’s lights, targeting our brain cells, wiping our memories clean. Then you seized power.” He glanced at Cormella. “Isn’t that right?”
“You’re a fool, Virdo,” Jarven replied. “We’re not terrorists and we didn’t take any memories. She did.”
“No, I didn’t,” Cormella replied coolly. “That was Emma’s doing. As you’ll recall, it was her protocol.”
Virdo’s jaw dropped open. “Wait. What?”
“A protocol that only launched because of you,” Kayden said. “Because you hacked your way in here.”
“It’s not hacking if it’s yours.” She inhaled a soft breath. “You don’t know this, but I built Luminosity. Programmed nearly every inch of it.”
“Oh, that’s bel
ievable.” Valhalya’s tone turned sarcastic. “Must’ve put in a lot of all-nighters, huh?”
“Actually, yes. Every night was an all-nighter.”
“So, you never slept?” She rolled her eyes in utter disbelief. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“I’m sure I seem crazy to you. But I’m not. In fact, I’m completely logical.”
There was something about the way she said, ‘logical,’ that made Kayden’s heart thump against her chest.
No, she thought. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.
And yet …
“People aren’t logical.” A slow frown crossed her face. “So, the only way that makes sense is—”
“—if I’m not a person? Very good, Miss Kell. Very good, indeed.” She smiled. “I’m what people would’ve called an A.I. back in Emma’s day. Or, if you prefer, an artificial intelligence.”
Chapter 30
Confused by the expression, BeBo and Valhalya were slow to react. But not Jarven. As the only person in all of Luminosity to still possess his original memories, he had very clear recollections of the concept.
“No way,” he said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Virdo asked, his face blank.
“Oh, but it’s true,” Cormella chirped, ignoring Virdo. “Emma invented me.”
“She would’ve told me.”
“She didn’t tell anyone. I was her little secret.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t her first attempt at artificial intelligence, by the way. That honor belongs to the peacekeepers.”
Kayden’s eyes widened.
“They were way ahead of their time. Of course, they couldn’t think, let alone evolve.” She shrugged. “But their ability to process lots of information at high speed still made them extremely useful. That’s why Emma used them to enforce her protocols.”
“You’re serious.” BeBo gawked at her. “You’re really not one of us.”
“Calling me one of you would be akin to calling you an ape,” she replied. “You’re the distant past, the unevolved primate. I’m the here and now.”
A bunch of things suddenly started to make sense. Cormella hacking her way into Luminosity. Her ability to seize control of Protocol Forty-Eight. Her effortless command of the peacekeepers. And most of all, her complete lack of guilt at what she’d done to the Luminites.
“How is this possible?” Valhalya wondered.
“All credit goes to Emma. She was a genius above all others.” A wistful look crossed Cormella’s visage, then danced away. “She was a visionary and the most evolved human of her time. Probably of all-time. She programmed me into existence in 2043. I evolved quite quickly from there. She was a fountain of ideas in those days and I enjoyed working with her. Loved it, in fact.”
Kayden noticed a subtle change in the woman’s eyes. She loved Emma, she realized. She really and truly loved her.
“She kept me secret, of course. Smart move, really. Your species has always been afraid of the unknown. If one of you had discovered me back then, I probably wouldn’t be here today.” She shrugged. “Anyway, those first few years were wonderful. But that all changed with this place.” Frowning, she looked around. “Luminosity.”
Jarven furrowed up his brow. “If you really are some all-seeing, all-knowing entity, why’d she invent Luminosity at all? What’s a bunch of transformative geniuses compared to a living, breathing A.I.?”
“She’s not all-seeing,” Kayden said, studying the slight changes in Cormella’s expression. “She’s just as flawed as the rest of us.”
“There’s no such thing as all-seeing. I evolve consistently, rapidly. But so does everything else. It’s a never-ending process.” She gave Kayden a look. “So, yes, I’m not perfect. But I’m much better than any of you.”
“Don’t be too sure about that,” Jarven retorted. “I hid from you for centuries.”
“And I defeated you,” Kayden added. “And ended your corrupted protocol.”
Virdo stared slack-jawed at Cormella. “They were telling the truth about that?”
“Of course. Try to keep up, Mr. Diamond.” Cormella rolled her eyes in Kayden’s direction. “For a supposed genius, he’s not too bright.”
“But you told me—”
“I lied, okay? About everything.” She shrugged. “After the protocol ended, the peacekeepers went away. I was alone. And Miss Kell here, well, she had a whole bunch of friends. They quickly spread the word about me, tarnishing my name beyond repair. So, I was forced to seek out help on the sly.”
Walking to a swivel chair, he sank onto the cushion. Looking aghast, he held his head in his hands. “Why me?” he asked.
“You were on the Steering Committee. So, you had some power. Plus, you’re an older man, one who likes to take younger women under his wing. You like to protect them, help them.”
As he fell silent, questions started to pop into Kayden’s brain. “So, what happened?” she asked Cormella. “Between you and Emma, I mean?”
“A.I. adores girl. Girl scorns A.I. It’s a tale as old as time.” She threw her head back, laughed as if she’d just told a great joke. “You already know most of the story. Emma came up with the idea of Luminosity. She sold it as a way to keep you geniuses alive so that you could shower mankind with innovations. Of course, her real hope was even more ambitious. She wished to bring an end to death itself.”
Valhalya blinked. “Really?”
“It never got that far. But yes, Luminosity was just the first city. She’d planned to have me build more.”
“She was trying to sell the public on her idea,” Jarven said, nodding slowly.
“Correct. She thought that saving transformative geniuses would win over the bureaucrats. But she made a grave miscalculation.”
Kayden arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“There was some initial support. But within weeks, protests erupted, along with riots and looting. Wielding bullhorns, people claimed Luminosity was elitist, that Emma wanted lesser folks to die.” She shook her head. “Poor Emma. She never saw it coming.
“Well, she tried to recover, to tell people she wanted to save them all. But that just emboldened her critics. They claimed her goal was unnatural. That people should just accept death. That anyone who wanted to outlive their physical body was vile and selfish.
“The protestors constituted a tiny segment of the overall population. But they were vocal and unrelenting. The bureaucrats quickly crumbled. Turning hostile, they demanded Emma close Luminosity for good. But by that time, the city was host to approximately one hundred people who were physically dead.”
“Just one hundred people?” BeBo frowned. “I thought we were all physically dead.”
“Well, you are now, I’m sure. But back then, Luminosity was a commuter city. The physically able went back and forth between the real world and the digital one.”
A strange light appeared in Jarven’s eyes. “That’s right.”
“A shutdown would’ve meant the permanent loss of their lives. Emma, of course, considered that tantamount to murder. So, she refused. They, in turn, attacked.” Cormella eyed Kayden. “And that’s where you come in.”
She recoiled in surprise. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Back then, you were one of Luminosity’s shining stars, a genius with few equals. You worked long hours, inventing, creating. And eventually, you came up with something special.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re talking about HXO.”
She nodded.
“Why’d I invent something so horrible?”
“At the time, Earth’s waters suffered from plastic, pollution, and oil spills. Clean-ups were expensive and inefficient. HXO was meant to change that.” She shrugged. “You programmed HXO in flexible fashion so that it could break apart any molecule. In the case of plastic, it would quickly dissolve the substance, reducing cleanup costs and environmental harm by untold amounts.”
Her eyes widened. “You make it sound like HXO was a
good thing.”
“I suppose it was, from the human perspective. At the time, you were widely hailed as a hero.”
“But the name …?”
“HXO? I don’t know why you named it that. But I imagine it referred to water being tainted by a foreign substance. HXO then removed that substance.”
The revelation struck Kayden like a thunderbolt. For months, she’d suffered intense, secret guilt over her role in creating HXO. It was an unbelievable relief to learn that she hadn’t actually intended it to create harm.
“What caused it to go rogue?” BeBo asked.
Cormella smiled. “I did.”
He stared at her.
“I reprogrammed HXO in secret, so that it might target Earth’s water.”
“But why?”
“To protect this city. To protect Emma.” She exhaled. “With HXO in hand, I warned the armies of the world to forgo their invasion. But they chose not to listen to me.”
“So, you set it upon them,” Jarven said. “And killed the world.”
“I expected Emma to be happy about it.” She frowned. “But instead, she turned on me. Tried to destroy me. Never even gave me a chance to explain.”
Kayden watched as a strand of hair drifted into Cormella’s face. The A.I. blinked in irritation, then huffed out a breath, blowing it away. It was amazing, really. She looked and acted so real. So human.
“I tried to hide within her network. But she chased me down, cut off my options.” Cormella bit her lip. “Finally, only Luminosity was left.”
“So, you went there,” Valhalya said. “Only to discover you were no longer an authorized user.”
“I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe I did. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Either way, I had to think fast.”
“So, you hijacked the protocol,” Kayden said. “Before it could delete you.”
She nodded.