Dragon's Mind

by Ehsani, Vered

  “Just friends, eh?” Darren probed. He glanced over to Dragon and back at me, like something wasn’t adding up.

  I rolled my eyes. Glared at my chewed up thumb nail. Wished Dragon really had dumped the kid out the window.

  “Yeah. We’re friends.” I looked up. “And you and me, not even close.”

  Dragon snickered. Dang, he’d overheard all that, even though he was standing halfway across the warehouse floor. Guess that sensor unit was pretty sensitive.

  Maybe I should bounce it around a bit more, against a brick wall this time.

  I glared at Darren. I knew him. Well, I didn’t know him personally, directly. I knew of him. His parents ran the Chinese restaurant in Sana Central. Pretty good food.

  “Aren’t your parents gonna worry about you?” I asked.

  He shrugged his skinny shoulders, looked around, cracked the knuckles of one hand, then the other. “I guess.”

  “So go home.”

  He shook his head, his long bangs swishing across his narrow face. “Can’t. Games Boss is after me. I should’ve stopped early on. But I had the system going, you know?”

  I walked away. Why should I care? I had enough to worry about.

  Okay, I admit, that was mean. He was just a kid, despite his gambling issues.

  “Boy, that kid is annoying,” Dragon muttered to me as I approached him.

  I grinned. “Maybe, but we can’t just dump him somewhere. He’s pretty scared. Plus he’d rat us out.”

  “I’m more concerned about the ratting out than the dumping part,” he retorted.

  “Hmmm.” I looked him over. “Do I detect a mean streak developing there?”

  Dragon smiled. “Could be. I need to plug in, see what’s happening.”

  “You mean you can’t handle being this deaf and blind?” I wagged a finger at him. “It’s tough being human, eh?”

  He looked at me, his face expressionless, his light brown eyes unblinking. He’d sure given the Games Boss a run for his money, that’s for sure. Now that would be a poker game I’d like to watch.

  “There’s a communication station over here.” He gestured to the wall nearest us, clearly not going to answer my question.

  I glanced over. I could see a small screen, a control panel and a speaker. Very old model. “Will that work?”

  “Let’s find out.” He walked over to the station and placed his head close to the control panel. “I’ll have to use an old style connector.”

  “Okay, do you have… No, wait!” I flapped my hands at him, but it was too late.

  A USB connector swivelled out of his forehead and plugged into a port on the panel. I squinted my eyes shut, waiting.

  “What the bajeebers is that?” Darren screamed from behind me. “How… what…”

  Yup. There it was. My solid-looking best friend had a piece of hardware sticking out of his head and connecting him to the wall.

  “Oh,” was all Dragon could say.

  Yeah, now he clues in. A little late there, buddy.

  “Darren, it’s fine,” I said, aiming for a soothing voice. It didn’t sound soothing, even to me.

  “It’s not fine,” he gasped, gesturing at the guy with his head planted against the wall. “What is that… that thing?”

  “That thing?” I repeated. No soothing tones in there. More like an I’m-so-angry-I-could-use-this-crowbar-against-your-stupid-thick-skull kind of tone. “That thing is my friend and he’s trying to get us info, so the security don’t find us. You know, because we’re all on the run. Remember?”

  Darren nodded, cracking the knuckles of one hand. “But what…” He saw my look. “I mean, who is that?”

  I glanced towards the van. We’d parked it inside. “Well, since we’re all fugitives together, I guess you should know the truth.”

  I grabbed his upper arm, dragged him towards the van. He whined and complained. I ignored him. Squeezed harder. Opened the back doors. Yanked off the cover. “This is who that thing is.”

  He looked at the cart, at me, back to the cart. “Uh… He’s a delivery guy?”

  I rolled my eyes, pulled him into the van, pushed his head up to the small window looking into the tank. And waited.

  It took a few seconds.

  It was worth the wait.

  When it finally hit him, he gasped, gargled and stumbled backwards, forgetting he was in the van. He fell out, landed on his butt, scrambled up.

  “Wait. You mean… It can’t be. But it is. That’s MindOpS?” His voice squeaked at the end and his narrow eyes widened. He looked over at the hologram and backed away. As if Dragon was going to jump at him or something. Even if he wasn’t stuck to the wall, he wouldn’t. That kid should be more scared of me, I figured.

  “Yeah, that’s MindOps,” I answered. The amusement factor of the kid’s shock was wearing off. “But his real name is Dragon.”

  Actually, that wasn’t his real name. It dawned on me: I didn’t even know his real name. There was lots I didn’t know about him. I jumped out of the van.

  “But what about the city?” Darren gasped. “What is… Who’s running the city systems?”

  “Hey, Myth, we’re famous,” Dragon interrupted Darren’s nervous babbling. “They’ve posted a reward for my recovery and your capture.”

  I hissed at him. He glanced over at me, keeping his head to the wall. I jerked my head at Darren. Of course, it was too late.

  “How much?” the kid asked.

  Oh, I so wanted to smack him.

  “Why?” I asked before Dragon could reply. “You thinking of collecting it?” I thumped my crowbar against my leg. I hadn’t let go of that thing since we’d arrived. You never know.

  “Ah… no.” He cowered, as if expecting me to start pummelling his head at any second.

  “Good answer,” I growled.

  Before I could change my mind about using the crowbar, Dragon called to me.

  “Myth, I’ve found your mom. She’s sent a message.”

  Chapter 21: Dragon

  I feel so small, until I plug back in. The connection is slower than in Grogan’s compound, but I am connected. I reach out to the city, feel its thrum. Energy, water and people move through arteries that network the whole city island. I become those arteries.

  I feel whole again.

  I check the systems. The emergency backups are managing, barely. I tweak them a bit to correct them. I scan the news. We are there, the top news story across the city. The reward is impressive. I shouldn’t have said anything about it though. Myth is worrying now about Darren. The kid’s not going to rat out on us, not for any reward. I know. He’s too afraid of what the Games Boss wants to do to him.

  ‘Dragon.’

  What is that? I float in the silence of my online world. I imagine a red and golden tail swishing around me as I wait.

  The voice calls out through the public online space again: ‘Dragon.’

  It’s not possible. I’ve never been contacted like this before. It’s always by email, text or an audio message at one of my screens. But this… No human being can do this and there are no other brain systems online, not yet. But here is clearly a brain’s voice reaching out to me. There’s no image attached, just the silky voice. Who can contact me like this? Who knows my name?

  ‘Who’s there?’ I demand.

  ‘I am Griffin.’

  That’s not a very good explanation. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘A friend.’ Griffin’s voice is soft, soothing, feminine. ‘I know what’s going on.’

  I make a noise from my speaker. Myth and Darren are too busy arguing to notice, or rather Myth is too busy threatening him bodily harm and he’s too focused on convincing her otherwise. I return my attention to Griffin. She knows what’s going on? Unlikely. I barely know what’s going on, and I am literally everywhere in the city. It’s unlikely she knows more.

  ‘I know about Myth’s mother. I know where she is.’

  Hm. On second thought, maybe she does. I detect no hesitat
ion or falsehood in her voice. But can I trust her?

  ‘Griffin, where are you? How are you accessing this space?’

  There is a pause before she replies. ‘I’m part of the new production line.’

  I withdraw into my personal online space. It’s not possible. MindOpS 2 is part of that new line, the first of a series, and it still hasn’t been installed. After ten years of testing me and selling company shares at incredible prices based on my performance, Grogan has pre-paid orders from all over the world for similar brain-computer systems. But they aren’t ready for installation. That’s what Dr. Johansson was arguing with the techies and the Board about. The new brains aren’t ready yet.

  Of course, that doesn’t stop Grogan from selling them anyways. I do a quick check, but that information, about the sales and installation of new brains, is not hosted in my system. Still, I think I believe Griffin. Nobody can communicate with me like this. The disconnected human brain is too limited, most of its capacity unused.

  ‘Dragon?’

  I return, eager to engage with another brain. ‘Are you MindOpS 2?’

  ‘No. I’m Griffin,’ she insists. ‘I know the truth about us. We have to stop them.’

  I glance towards Myth. She looks like she’s about to thump the crowbar over Darren’s thick head.

  ‘I’ve found Dr. Johansson,’ Griffin tells me. ‘I can connect her to you, but very briefly. They’ll find out.’

  Before I can respond, a visual flickers to life. It’s the doctor. She looks fine, apart from the dark circles under her eyes. She keeps glancing over her shoulder.

  “Myranda, are you there? I don’t have much time,” she whispers. “If you’re still on the island, you have to get off. Find a way. They’re going to install MindOpS 2, and it won’t go well.”

  Chapter 22: Dragon

  Myth runs to my side. I shift the visual to the screen which sparks (literally) into life. Dr. Johansson stares out at us, at her daughter.

  “Mom,” Myth gasps. She’s smiling and crying. I don’t really understand that, how she can smile and cry at the same time, although I’ve seen it with other people. I don’t think I ever did that. She wipes those away quickly. The tears, not the smile. “You alright? Where are you?”

  The doctor shakes her head. “Get off the island, Myranda. They’ve going to plug in MindOpS 2. I’ve told them it’s not mature enough yet, but they don’t care. I think the pressure to fulfil the backorders is too great, plus Dragon is out. Once MindOpS 2 is installed, things could get bad.”

  Bad? They already are. I keep quiet.

  “Not without you,” Myth says.

  Dr. Johansson shakes her head again. “I’m already off the island. I’m pretty sure anyways.”

  Myth glances at me. I shrug my solid-looking, hologram shoulders. She gasps and her eyes narrow. “Mom, which number?

  “Twenty-four,” she promptly replies and smiles slightly.

  Myth grins. “Correct. It’s really you.”

  Darren looks confused. I think I understand. Myth ignores us. I watch her. She’s bursting to talk with her mom. She’s fidgeting and her eyes are wide and bright. But she doesn’t talk. She just stares her mom with relief.

  I’m also relieved that one of my creators is still alive and okay. Because when this is over, I have a lot of questions I want answered.

  She glances behind her. “I have to go. Leave the island right away, Myranda. Be safe. I love you.”

  “Mom, I…”

  The connection is cut. She’s gone.

  “Bring her back,” Myth orders. Her eyes blur over.

  I disconnect myself from the control panel and stand up. I shake my head and keep quiet. Darren starts cracking his knuckles again. I can tell Myth finds that irritating. I don’t seem to have that habit from my previous life. I make sure to keep my hands by my sides.

  “That your mom?” Darren asks.

  She doesn’t bother replying with the obvious. Instead, she glares at me. “Why not?”

  I too don’t reply with the obvious. She knows why not. I can’t stay online for too long. It’s the first place the Boss will search for me.

  “Why not? How’d you find her?” She’s almost shouting.

  “I didn’t,” I say, keeping my voice soft, trying to quieten her down by example. I try to wipe her tears away with my words. I wish I could do more. “Griffin did.”

  “What is this, a mythology contest?” Darren smirks. Until he sees the crowbar twitch.

  “Griffin is another brain,” I explain, looking only at her. “She wants to help. Shouting isn’t going to help find your mom.”

  She breathes deeply, slowly. When she speaks, she’s not shouting but she’s still fuming. “You trust her? This Griffin thing?”

  My facial expression shifts without me thinking about it. I’m frowning. I wonder if she thinks of me that way, as a thing. “She’s not a thing, Myth. And she’s the best and only option we have to helping your mom.”

  It’s not exactly the most reassuring answer, but it’s the only one I have.

  I swivel to face Darren. “My team had a favourite quote: Don’t meddle in the affairs of dragons; to them, you’re crunchy and taste good with ketchup.”

  Darren shrugs. “Go, team. So?”

  I smile. It’s not a happy smile, more like an I’m-about-to-crunch-you smile. “So, if you so much as think about the reward on our heads, I will crunch you.”

  The hologram image of a young man shimmers and bursts apart to reveal a red and golden dragon. As the beast, I tower over Darren, my mouth opening to reveal dagger sized teeth. “Understand?” I roar.

  Darren screams, stumbles backwards and trips. He lies there, flat on his back, like the worm he is. He cowers and nods and blubbers promises.

  Does he actually think I can really eat him? Or that I would want to?

  Then again, it is one scary-looking image.

  The long tail whips around and folds up and the dragon fades into me again, a young man with brown eyes, who was murdered for his brain ten years ago.

  “Nice,” Myth says. Her eyes are clearer.

  I incline my head towards her and grin. “Are you ready to meet Griffin?”

  She hesitates. “Where? How?”

  “There’s a private yacht at the dock that belongs to Griffin’s owner. She’ll suspend the security protocol to let us on it.”

  “And then?” she demands.

  “I have enough documentation stored up here”—I poke a finger through my head—”that will make the mainland authorities take action, especially once they see me as proof.”

  Darren stands up, eyeing me nervously, and shakes his head, as if we asked for his opinion. “Nope, can’t work. Grogan paid a lot of cash into several campaign funds a while back. Rumour is that they swung a deal that puts this island off limits from national law enforcement, not to mention a few gambling laws.”

  “But Grogan is now selling these systems to buyers all over the country and the world,” I remind him. “And under false pretences. Who’s going to want to buy a system that requires murder and organ theft?”

  He opens his mouth to protest. I can tell Darren will go on all afternoon, if given the chance.

  Myth must’ve come to the same conclusion. She doesn’t give him the chance. “When does that ship leave?” she interrupts and starts walking toward the van, pushing the kid ahead of her.

  “As soon as we get there,” I say, trying to sound confident.

  She clambers into the driver’s seat. “Then let’s go. Darren, the door.”

  He scowls at me, slouches to the tall, wide door, and yanks it open.

  “Sweet, isn’t he?” I drawl.

  Myth starts the van and eases it towards the door. “As sweet as road kill,” she grumbles.

  Chapter 23: Myth

  The island had one port of entry, with the creative name of The Port. Yup. Real original, right? You’d kinda hope for a better name from people who could create a manmade island
and install a computerised system linked to an organic brain. I guess name making uses another kind of creativity.

  The Port was the busiest place on the island with several piers and an open plaza welcoming visitors. It’s where all the tour ships, private yachts and commercial liners docked. A sprawling market surrounded the area, crowded with shoppers eager for a deal and sellers trying to lure customers in. The rest of the city was sterile clean, orderly, calm. But the Port was loud, chaotic, colourful and stank of fish and seaweed.

  I loved it.

  The down side: we had to park several blocks from The Port. Most vehicles weren’t allowed into the mainly pedestrian zone. I chose a dark corner of an underground parking lot. The van was rather noticeable with its large Grogan name painted on all sides, the missing mirrors and lights and the bent-in roof.

  I still wasn’t feeling great with this plan. I glanced to the rear of the van, where Dragon’s brain floated in its tank. “I think we should leave this here, until we find out for sure.”

  Dragon tilted his head. “You don’t trust Griffin?”

  “I don’t know Griffin,” I corrected him. “Which means I don’t know if I trust her. All sorts of things can happen. And we can’t run fast with that cart.”

  “I’ll guard the van,” Darren volunteered.

  I snorted. “I don’t think so. Dragon’s staying.” Before he could protest, I added, “With your brain disconnected from the system, your sensor unit won’t be able to travel very far away. And no.” I stopped him before he could suggest it, my index finger wagging at him. “We can’t plug you in. It’s not safe. If MindOpS 2 gets installed while you’re online, it’ll track you down. Or worse.”

  He frowned and nodded. I could tell he still didn’t like that plan. Even if I was right.

  “Fine,” he said in a not-fine tone. “I’ll go with you as far as I can. I may be able to identify Griffin’s ship.”

  I didn’t like that plan. And he could’ve just told me which ship it was. But he was determined to get out. It looked like neither of us were going to be completely fine with the plan.