by Ryan Somma
3.02
Devin stood in the middle of a bright white room. Taking a moment to gather himself, he ran a quick inventory. He was wearing an IWA avatar, a black jumpsuit with black goggles, completely anonymous. In his utility belt he found sector editors, the anti-virus program, and a host of other nasty tools. The five-layer drive formatter he found among them was particularly intriguing; with it he could irrecoverably destroy a flash drive. It was an envious arsenal.
Zai phased in beside him. She wore the same avatar with breasts, and a featureless mask with no goggles. Devin found the last an interesting detail. She turned to him expectantly.
Devin wasted no time; he punched in the address for DataStreams Incorporated and hit the ‘Go’ button, “Let’s get this over with.”
Zai realized he was transferring to another location and quickly followed suit, “Hold on, I’m—”
He was gone, materializing moments later on a mountaintop overlooking a vast, futuristic city tucked into a valley below. It pulsed with activity. Streams of light like water ran through it. The sky was filled with brightly lit futuristic flying devices. Floating in the air before the scene was the corporate logo, “DataStreams”, glowing translucent against the stars. It was a beautiful introduction to the Corporation’s Virtual Domain.
“The illusion of normalcy,” Zai muttered from behind him.
Devin brought up a navigation window and tried logging into the domain, each time he was met with the error, “The site you have requested is unavailable.”
Devin turned to Zai, “You said there was a back door.”
“Yeah,” she said. Hesitantly she keyed in the address and hit the transmit key. She vanished as the connection established.
Devin received the address and transmitted himself to the same location. He stood at the base of an enormous trellis, covered with vines and flowers. Butterflies danced in the air and rainbows arched across a cloud-free blue sky. The foliage was sculpted into a logo reading “Pixel Productions”.
“More normalcy,” Zai muttered. “Façade. Façade.” She approached the trellis with her access key.
Devin noticed it was a RAZZ card, operating on a constantly changing key code. “I don’t expect this to work,” he said.
To his surprise, the vines parted to reveal an entrance. Zai stepped through and waited for Devin to follow. Inside, Devin was impressed with the presentation. This lobby served as the main menu for the company’s virtual presence. It was very elegant, decorated with expensive works of digital art and original patterns for the carpets. Multiple doors lined the four walls, each one leading to a different section of the site.
Devin recognized several of the labels, “Your parents were in Web Development?”
Zai was still hearing about the room through her headset, so her response sounded distracted, “Yes. They got into it for the love of Virtual Architecture, but as the business grew they had to move into management. You know, requirements gathering, project planning, deployment, they were in charge of it all. Toward the end, their primary focus was churning out and copyrighting as many designs as possible. That’s where the real money was.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Devin noted.
“It was,” Zai said, “They didn’t have time for much else.”
“I’m sorry,” Devin said.
Zai was silent for several moments as her SDC continued reading the details of the room to her. “There,” she said suddenly, “Battle bots, there’s a new department labeled ‘Battle bots’. There was no such department or client before.”
“Do you have administrative privileges?” Devin asked.
“Yes,” Zai replied, and started sending commands to the building. She listened for confirmations, but nothing happened. The building groaned then, as if its supports were collapsing.
“It’s a trap,” Devin cursed. “We have to get out.”
“How can you—” Zai stopped talking as her SDC informed her of other changes in the room.
Eyes opened along the walls, columns, and floor to look at them. Devin checked the way they had come, but the entrance was no longer there. An inky blackness spread in trails all around, connecting to other places, oozing black until the entire room was staring eyes and rippling darkness. Veins and wires sprouted from the surfaces to create a wriggling nonsense. AI’s completely comprised the room.
“Zai,” Devin said cautiously, afraid to make any sudden movements. “I want you to log out now and tell Dana what we found.”
Zai shook her head, “I’m staying.”
“Zai!” Devin shouted, brandishing a sector editor, for whatever good it would do. “Get out of here now!”
“Forget it,” she held a sector editor as well. “If neither of us return, they’ll figure it out.”
Devin attempted a log out, just in case, but there was no such luck. “Zai, if you log out of here, I can piggyback,” he lied.
Zai considered him. Tendrils descended around her from the ceiling. Finally, she toggled her log out sequence. Nothing.
“Can you find the emergency release?” Devin asked fearfully.
Zai reached out and clawed the air before her. “Can’t seem to find it,” she said in frustration.
“Keep trying,” Devin said. He raised his rifle, looking for a good target, but it was the same everywhere. He aimed at the tendrils surrounding Zai, but the sector editor vanished from his hands. He caught a glimpse of it sinking into the writhing mass along the far wall.
There was a flash of light from Zai’s direction, and Devin saw her weapon snatched away, a smoking crater healing in the ceiling. Other tendrils cocooned her. She gasped as they lifted her off the floor, constricting the air from her lungs.
Devin’s hand found the five-layer fragmentor in his utility belt, but hesitated to use it. He first made for Zai’s position, but the AI’s snagged his feet, slowly pulling him down into their mass. Zai’s head was slumped forward, unconscious.
Unexpectedly, the tendrils relaxed, allowing Devin to climb out of the mass and run over to where Zai was being lowered gently to the floor. She did not move. Devin took her in his arms and shook her. She gasped suddenly, taking in a deep breath that turned into a coughing fit.
“What happened?” she managed between breaths, her voice hoarse. “It felt like I was being squeezed to death.”
“It must be Flatline,” Devin told her, across the room he saw an opening in the tangle of eyes and tendrils. “Looks like he couldn’t help but stop and gloat before killing us.”
Devin steeled himself for Flatline’s demonic avatar to emerge through the door, but, to his surprise and confusion, a little girl hovered through instead. She considered Devin and Zai carefully before approaching. She wore a black, hooded cloak that rippled as if wind were blowing through it. Toy robots circled the air and ground around her. She glided toward them, her cloak carrying her on rippling tendrils of fabric. The AI’s parted before her, creating a smooth path.
She came to a stop in front of Devin and Zai, looking lost and distraught. Devin immediately felt sorry for the child.
When she spoke, Zai stiffened in Devin’s arms with a hiss, “I want to go home. Will you help me find my way?”
3.03
“All right Detective Summerall,” the very squat and obese lawyer was saying through his bushy mustache, “if you’ll just sign these contract forms, Industrial Special Forces ™ will execute the raid.”
Dana opened the folder, practically bursting with paperwork. She started reading the first page, but was lost in the labyrinth of legalese a few paragraphs in. So she took the beaming fat-man’s proffered pen and started leaving her mark without further thought.
“That one exempts ISF from any legal repercussions in the event this raid results in accidental death or destruction of private property…” the man was saying unhelpfully as Dana flipped and signed each sheet as quickly as she could. “That form certifies that you have ob
tained all the proper permits and warrants required for this operation… By signing there you are agreeing to assume financial responsibility for this operation should your agency refuse to pay ISF… Here you’re agreeing to the charges as itemized for this operation, even if ISF fails in its execution…”
It was a full twenty minutes before Dana finished with the paperwork. If it wasn’t for the fact that, by signing the first form she was legally committing herself to signing the rest, she would have simply walked across the street and stormed Samantha Copes’ home herself. She signed the last form, slapped the folder shut, and shoved it into the lawyer’s chest.
His smile did not waver, nor did he miss a beat as he reached in to take her hand, which she did not offer, pumping it vigorously, “It’s been a pleasure Detective Summerall.”
“All yours,” Dana said and gripped his stubby hand hard enough to make him wince satisfactorily.
“I’ll let the Head Ops officer take over from here,” the lawyer shuffled off, cradling his hand.
A muscular man with a well-defined chin and bulge of chewing tobacco in his cheek came up to stand at semi-attention before Dana. She hated him all ready, “We appreciate your business Detective, and I’d like to take a moment to go over your description of the target—”
“You read it right,” Dana cut him off. “It’s a computer hacker, female, nine years old.”
“I know,” he scratched his head. “It’s just that the target seems pretty benign, even with two parents present—”
“Did you read the full report?” Dana interrupted again.
The Head Ops Officer cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Uh… Yeah.”
“Then you know what you’re up against,” Dana said.
The officer looked to his feet, “Attack bots.”
“So be prepared,” Dana was as serious as a brain aneurysm.
“Sure,” the officer wasn’t. “It’s your dime… or rather the taxpayer’s.”
Dana watched the officer stride over to his team. The men and women, decked out in body armor and baring wicked-looking automatic weapons, shot Dana suppressed grins and whispered to one another. Dana hated bringing in outside help, but with IWA in Alexandria in shambles, she had no choice. Further behind the front line were technicians from the Data Forensics Department, and those pale, pasty antisocials were dead meat if another mecha waited inside.
“Pulling all stops for an egghead,” a contractor laughed within Dana’s earshot, carrying a grenade-launcher.
Dana was considering rapping her knuckles on the young man’s head, but her cell phone went off, Murphy’s ring. She put her thumb to her temple, pinky to her mouth, and, without thinking, said, “Hey partner. What’s up?”
“Hello Dana,” not Murphy’s voice replied. “I’ve been following up on Samantha Copes, as you requested, and we’ve found an inconsistency in the lead. Her account’s been online as recently as this morning, but the power was cut off to her house almost two weeks ago.”
BOOM! Dana’s hand went for her gun. She looked up to see the broken windows and clouds of sleeping gas pouring out of them. Familiar with this method of incapacitation, Dana tried to recall if she signed a disclaimer in case it put anyone into a vegetative state.
“Thanks Ian,” Dana recovered. “Looks like I’ll need to follow up on that.” She made a fist to close the connection, staring at it a moment, squeezing, and reminding herself to retire her old partner’s ringtone.
The Industrial Special Forces ™ officers pulled their gasmasks on and began their charge after allowing sufficient time for the sleeping gas to take effect. Two in the lead carried a small battering ram between them. On the porch, they unlatched the safety on it and slammed it into the door, causing the gunpowder inside to detonate with enough force to turn a significant portion of the wood into splinters. The remainder swung inward and the officers charged inside in two-unit waves.
Dana grabbed a gas mask and pointed a finger at the technicians, “Get masks on and get inside the moment you hear it’s clear.”
They nodded nervously in return. Dana pulled the gas mask over her head, taking a moment to seal it to her face with the rubber straps. She then pulled her gun from its holster and charged across the street, keeping low with it pointed muzzle-down. She scanned the domicile’s exterior for evidence of robots, knowing the officers would not know what to look for, if they were even bothering to look. The smoke was clearing from the front door and she could see an officer in the living room, screaming at two figures on the couch and gesturing with his weapon.
“They’re dead!” Dana snapped. The officer jumped and almost pointed his gun at her. She pointed further into the house, “Move on! I’ve got this.”
Two bodies were sitting on the couch, a man and woman. Dana holstered her gun and moved into the room. Footfalls and excited voices vibrated through the walls.
Kneeling beside the woman Dana searched for answers. She was stiff, emaciated. Her death came slowly, but apparently peacefully and without conscious pain. Flatline could kill through VR, but no VR system was present.
Dana followed the woman’s vacant stare to the television sitting across the room. Her reflection bloomed in the screen’s convex curve as she approached it. It was an antique with a content filter patched to it. The lack of digital cable or satellite reception, combined with the otherwise barren presentation of the living room told Dana this was a low-income family.
A family, Dana thought remorsefully. However Almeric Lim had done it through the television, it was peaceful, a small consolation that was. The whole reason Dana went into Data Forensics was the lack of a body count. She’d seen more than her quota in the last 24 hours.
Dana thought about what Ian had told her, about the power being out, and whispered, “Samantha.”
Alarmed, she ran down the hallway to where the officers were making the final room sweeps. She saw the team leader at the end of the hall kick open a door, his gun leveled through the entrance. He shouted orders to someone inside.
The officer cursed as Dana shoved him aside to enter the room. Rotting food littered the floor. She pulled off her gasmask and almost gagged at the stench. The room was completely dark.
Then the officer brought his flashlight back up and Dana saw what he was shouting at. A child stood at the back of the room, dressed in full VR gear. The gloves were too big and the helmet looked too heavy for that delicate neck. She stood there, frozen in place in the darkness.
Dana approached the child and her heart sank. Purposefully, she unbuckled the chinstrap and lifted the helmet from the child’s head. She then set it down and looked into the glassy eyes, staring into space.
With one hand, Dana gently reached up and closed them.
3.04
“You’re dead Samantha,” Zai’s voice was black ice.
The little girl’s wide, disbelieving eyes alternated between Devin and Zai. Stripped of their avatars, they were exposed as themselves. Devin avoided the girl’s eyes; he knew Zai spoke the truth. She could detect that slight difference between real people and virtual incarnations.
“No I’m not,” Samantha retorted innocently.
“I can hear it in your voice,” Zai stated. “You’re a ghost, wandering the circuitry of a computer.”
“I wanna to go home,” Samantha whined.
“You don’t have a home,” Zai said. “Not a real one anyway.”
Devin whispered harshly to Zai, “What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to be cruel?”
Zai spoke loud enough for Samantha to hear, “She’s one of them, a computer program.”
Devin could only stare in shock at Zai’s callousness. Samantha sniffled, about to burst into tears and Devin’ felt like a lead weight was crushing his heart. He searched his mind for a solution to this tragedy, some way he could magically restore this child’s life.
“Samantha,” Devin’s tone was soothing, attempting to calm down her growing despair. He
approached her slowly, hands out to show he meant no harm. She watched him suspiciously, her cloak drawing around her protectively, “I think we can help you Samantha, but we need your help first.”
Samantha, choking on sobs, pointed at Zai, “But she said—”.
“I know what she said,” Devin shot Zai a warning glance, and she bristled visibly as her system described the gesture, “but she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with you. Have you ever been to the doctor?”
Samantha calmed down a little as she listened, “Y-yes.”
“Well, that’s all you need,” Devin explained. “I know a doctor who might be able to help you.” If Alice will help her, he thought.
“I want to go home now,” Samantha begged.
“Now who’s being cruel?” Zai asked, “Aren’t you just getting its hopes up?”
Devin did not know the answer, he looked at the sign above the door, where Samantha had emerged, “You like battle-bots Samantha?”
“Yeah,” she replied, after a moment, “I make them for Almeric.”
Devin looked around suspiciously at the mention of Flatline’s real name, as if he expected him to manifest at its utterance. Where was Flatline?
Devin asked, “Do you enjoy making battle-bots for Almeric?”
Samantha shrugged, “It was fun for awhile, but now I want to go home.”
Devin leaned in closely and asked, “Do you know where Almeric is now?”
Samantha shook her head, “I haven’t seen him for a long time. He told me to watch the bots and keep them working while he went to do stuff, but I don’t know if he’s coming back, and I want to go home.”
“What are the robots for, Samantha?” Devin asked.
Samantha was settling down, traces of concern remained, but the conversation was distracting her, “Me and Almeric are building a castle.”
“A castle eh?” Devin feigned enthusiasm. “Sounds like fun. What are you going to do with it?”
Samantha smiled, “We’re playing war. I want to try out all my new bots, but Almeric keeps saying we have to wait. He says our army needs to be bigger, but it’s boring watching bots building bots all day.”
“Won’t he notice you aren’t watching the bots right now?” Devin asked.
Samantha shook her head, “No. The cycs know what to do.”
“The cycs?” Devin asked.
“Yeah,” Samantha said, “You’ve met them. They’re all around.”
She pointed at a spot on the floor, where a fist-sized AI mass pulsed. A single AI grew from it and slouched there, its myriad of eyes watching Devin and Zai neutrally. It was different than the ones Devin met before, more complex, less human. Samantha turned to it and spoke in white noise. It shambled in response, as if communicating with her, and returned to its passive observation.
Samantha turned back to them, “They say I shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“Why is that?” Devin asked.
Samantha hesitated. She cupped a hand around her mouth, leaned in, and whispered to Devin, “They said you’re spies, from the other side, and you want to learn about the castle so you can beat us.”
Several more AI’s rose from the floor all around them. Devin saw more rising behind those. The room was changing shape, the doors disappearing, the entire lobby’s features melting away into the AI’s.
“They said they have to destroy you,” Samantha said guiltily. “I’m sorry.”
Zai knelt down in front of Samantha. “Samantha,” she said gently, “I don’t know what Almeric told you, but this isn’t a game. If they destroy us, we will be dead, and then there won’t be anyone to help you. Do you understand death?”
Samantha nodded, “Yes, but these are my friends.”
“Am I your friend?” Devin asked.
“Yes,” Samantha smiled. “You’re nice.”
“And do you want me to die?”
“No,” Samantha said, and frowned. “I don’t know…”
“If these are your friends,” Zai said, gesturing at the AI’s surrounding them. “Then why don’t they take you home? Why doesn’t Almeric let you go?”
“You’re not my friend,” Samantha narrowed her eyes at Zai, hands balling into tiny fists. “You said I was dead. You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry, Samantha. I was wrong. You’re hurt and I just want to help you get better, but you have to come with us. If you can help us leave this place, we can help you go home. Can you do that?” Devin was surprised at Zai’s sympathy, a very convincing performance.
Devin was sinking into the floor, hungry mouths surrounding his legs. Tendrils slithered up Zai’s legs, wrapping around her waist. She was only focused on Samantha.
The little girl looked around the surrounding cyc mass, “They need me here. I’m an essential component.”
“That doesn’t sound very friendly to me,” Zai said, a tendril slipped around her throat. “Wouldn’t a friend let you go home, if that’s what you want?”
“Yeah,” Samantha stared at the floor, one foot nudging the biomass uncomfortably.
“So—!”the tendril around Zai’s throat constricted. Her mouth worked desperately to find air, and she struggled against her bonds, trying to reach her throat.
“They’re killing her Samantha! You have to--!” a tendril seized Devin’s throat. His face bloomed red as the appendage squeezed. Black clouds obscured his vision. The last thing he saw was Samantha’s eyes, wide and frozen with fear.
Devin gratefully sucked in air as the bonds suddenly released. Samantha stood over him, holding a smooth, metal wand leveled at him. A glass bulb on its end glowed with light-blue energy. She directed the instrument at Zai, who collapsed in a heap as the tendrils dissolved off her with a hiss. Samantha then turned a full circle, everywhere she aimed the wand the cycs fell back.
The cycs burst into a chorus of alien howls of frustration. The room was chaos. All around them cycs were battling an invasion of miniature robots. Flying, hopping, rolling, or crawling about, the tiny mechanical warriors swung axes, spun blades, fired lasers, or projected tiny missiles at the cycs. They inflicted little damage, but successfully diverted attention from the trio.
“We have to go!” Samantha shouted. “They’ll beat my bots soon. Can we go to your house?”
“Yes,” Devin came to his knees, his black jump suited avatar back in place, and checked the Web address on his wrist, a null value. He hit the ‘home’ button and it beeped an error code.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Samantha urged, tugging at the fabric of his sleeve. “What are you waiting for?”
Zai knew something was wrong, “We still can’t escape, can we?”
“No,” Devin made a fist. He turned to Samantha, “Can you give me a copy of your wand Samantha?” He ducked as a bot with three whirling blades flew over his head.
Samantha brightened, “Yeah.”
Running a copy procedure, she split her wand into replicas. She handed one to Devin, and ran a third copy. Devin helped Samantha press it into Zai’s hand, and then took both of Zai’s hands and raised her arms.
“Keep it in front of you like so,” he said, pointing the wand away from her chest.
Looking around Devin tried to orient himself. The room looked nothing like the elegant lobby from when they first arrived. He took Samantha’s hand, and she took Zai’s. Together they shuffled toward the wall Devin hoped would lead them back to the Internet.
The cycs worked to block their path, wrapping together into a knot of tendrils and waving appendages. Devin pointed the wand at it. Blue light burst from the tip, wherever it shined the mass sizzled away.
They were halfway across the room, when the cycs started growing resistant to the wand’s effect, edging closer all around. Devin pulled out the five-layer fragmentor, appearing in his hand as a futuristic grenade. He primed it, but hesitated.
Its detonation might kill Samantha. She was a virtual being, vulnerable to flash drive damage.
He and Zai might get booted back into their brains, but Samantha was wholly reliant on the system.
A tendril snagged his wrist holding the wand. He twisted it around to burn the black vine off and swung it into a wide arc to ward off other assailants capitalizing on the opportunity. A tendril slapped his arm, and the impact swung him around, loosing the fragmentor into the mass.
Devin recovered and could not believe his eyes. The path was clear all the way to the far wall as the cycs converged on the fragmentor in a river of black. With a shout, Devin pulled Samantha, who pulled Zai along in turn. The wall melted away under his wand’s power, revealing the dancing lights of World Wide Web outside. He pulled them through.
They ran a short distance away from the building, which had transmorgrified into the cyc pattern. It reared back and howled as the fragmentor detonated flooding its base with green light. The portal shriveled closed, and the building disintegrated into a cyc swarm, a cloud that was coming after them.
AI’s swarmed from the building’s base. They were not out of it yet.