The Reality Rebellions

by Paul Anlee

  “A little more enhanced and less independent.”

  “I don’t understand; how would that work?” he said.

  “I’ll maintain a constant link to the Partial. It will transmit back to me in real time and I’ll set general directives for it to follow while it moves around inworld. Operating a Partial completely by remote slows it down too much, especially over these distances, so I have to give it a fair bit of autonomy on the details. I’ll be able to sever the link and erase the Partial instantly if I get into an untenable situation.

  “Don’t worry; there’s no danger,” she added.

  Timothy didn’t look convinced. “If there’s no danger, why are you taking such precautions?”

  “Okay, there’s always some danger. In this case, the biggest problem will be if I inadvertently alert Trillian and have to leave before I’ve learned anything useful.”

  “I don’t imagine I can talk you out of trying?”

  “No.”

  Timothy heaved a long, tired sigh. “Very well, then. I’m going with you.”

  “You’ll only complicate things.”

  “We’ve already been through this. I’m useless to you out here on my own. It’s too new and foreign. Even with the updates you’ve made to my concepta, I can’t manage your revolution without you. Remember?”

  “It’ll be dangerous,” she countered.

  “You just finished trying to convince me that it wasn’t. Besides, I’ve been training for this a long time,” he replied.

  The force of his determination surprised Darya. “Are you honestly looking forward to going back to Alternus?”

  “Truthfully, it’s a little boring here and, as you pointed out, Mary needs our help.”

  “Did you just manipulate me into taking you inworld?” For a moment, Darya wished Cybrids had faces; she was sure Timothy’s would be wearing a smirk.

  “Are you suggesting I could outsmart you?”

  “I may have let my guard down. Briefly.”

  “Well, you won’t make that mistake again anytime soon, will you?”

  “No, I promise never to underestimate your skills, or your wit, again.”

  Timothy moved over toward the nearest interface station. “Then, let’s get going, shall we?”

  28

  Jared Strang and Jenny Thurgood waited in the Reception Area outside Alum’s office. They watched people coming and going through the doorway for about an hour before Thurgood’s impatience got the better of her.

  Ignoring the eight others who’d been sitting quietly for the past sixty minutes, some even longer, she walked up to the receptionist and demanded to see Alum at his next available moment. “We’re on the Governing Council, you know.”

  “Yes,” the Receptionist replied, “and you were also in the old Administration.” She returned Thurgood’s intimidating stare without flinching. “I’m sure you realize that as Leader of the Council, Alum is very busy. I will let you know when he becomes available.”

  The Councillor walked back to her bench, defeated. Jared patted her hand in consolation, but she snapped it away.

  Despite the rebuke, they were ushered into the Leader’s office fifteen minutes later. Alum remained behind his desk, working on some papers. Without a word or looking up, he motioned for them to take a seat.

  No comfy chat on the sofas today—Strang noted.

  The two visitors waited in their austere chairs while Alum completed his work. After a few minutes, he returned his stylus to the desktop and regarded them with an indulgent smile.

  “It’s not every day two Councillors appear together in my office. How can I help you?”

  Thurgood deferred to Strang.

  Fair enough. It was my idea, I guess I should start—Strang thought.

  “We are here to talk about how we may help you, sir,” he said.

  Alum looked surprised, which in turn surprised Strang. There weren’t many times one got ahead of the Leader; his information and planning were astonishingly thorough.

  “That is unexpected,” Alum said. “I’m aware your group is forming an opposition party. I didn’t expect us to find much cause for helping one another over the next few years.”

  “Any decent democracy requires an opposition,” Thurgood began. The edge in her voice drew a subtle smile from Alum.

  “But that opposition doesn’t have to be inimical,” Strang interjected. He saw the flash of an indignant glare from Thurgood but pushed on. “Our interests, all of our interests, lie in ensuring the colonies are well administered, nothing more.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. I suppose some kind of sober second thought might be helpful from time to time. “That is, indeed, why I set up the Council in the first place.”

  “Exactly. After all, what’s an election without someone to run against, however much it’s just for show?”

  Alum stroked his chin. “None of your representatives has a chance of winning. That doesn’t bother you?”

  “We’ll have to see,” challenged Thurgood. “The outcome may not be what you expect. Even among your most ardent supporters, there are many who see the merit in separating church and state.”

  Alum sat upright. “Are you suggesting I should resign my post as Spiritual Leader in order to run in the election?”

  “It’s a thought,” Thurgood replied. “But as you pointed out, our representatives have practically no chance of winning, anyway.”

  Alum gave a good-natured shrug. “Perhaps I should reconsider. Maybe we need to incorporate some form of proportional representation in the election, if for no other reason, to give your candidates a fighting chance.” He smiled graciously.

  Thurgood returned his generosity with a cold stare.

  “If the troubles we’re experiencing throughout the habitats continue, the race may be closer than you expect,” Strang said.

  Alum grimaced and dismissed their seriousness with a backhanded gesture. “All temporary. Simple shake-out problems that one might expect of any new system.”

  “I’m not sure all of your citizens would agree with you on that,” Strang replied.

  Alum opened his mouth to reply, but Strang charged forward. “In any case, we are here to offer our help in whatever capacity we can.”

  Alum regarded him suspiciously. “I don’t see how help from you would benefit this Administration. Wouldn’t that simply weaken public perception of my leadership?”

  “I did say our chief interest is in seeing the habitats run effectively. What good would an election be if the people were driven to riots beforehand?”

  “Riots? I don’t see how conditions have deteriorated to that stage!” Alum exclaimed.

  Thurgood had seen large populations suddenly switch allegiances before; it was a frightful thing to behold. “You’re too young to remember the Pension Riots and Treasury Bond Runs. When people have a hard time accessing what they see as ‘their’ money, things turn ugly very quickly.”

  “I’m aware there have been a few issues during centralization of the banking system,” Alum allowed. “But I’m sure these are nothing more than implementation hiccups and will soon disappear.”

  “And the other infrastructure problems?” Jared challenged.

  “What of them? A few problems with water and electricity.”

  “And sewage,” Thurgood added.

  “And sewage,” conceded Alum. “All of these will be cleared up quickly enough. We have people working on them around the clock.”

  “Yes, and that’s why we’ve come to see you today,” Strang answered.

  “Okay,” Alum conceded. “How can you help me?”

  “Though the vast majority of our experts amongst the previous colonists were…exchanged…for lesser qualified people among the new colonists, we still have a vast pool of expertise we could call on for assistance.”

  “The Cybrids,” Alum muttered.

  “Yes, and the hundred million Cybrid processors awaiting activation,” added Jared.

  Al
um pushed away from his desk and walked to the window, turning his back on his guests. “This Administration is not predisposed to excessive use of Cybrid technology.”

  “We understand that,” Thurgood replied. “But within that pool of expertise, we have financial and banking experts, engineers, and scientists.” She glanced at Strang for backup.

  In his best selling voice, Jared added, “And they are simply sitting there. All that vast knowledge is going to waste, while your people fumble for solutions, sir.”

  Alum spun around. “Fumble? There may have been challenges, but I don’t believe anyone is fumbling.”

  “Our sources suggest differently,” Thurgood stated.

  Alum’s eyes squinted warily. “Are you suggesting your information is better than the official Administration’s?”

  Jared soothed, “Not at all. But we have been talking to people on the street, and there is some grumbling and discontent. We think it would serve us all best to put every means at our disposal to resolve these problems.”

  “You would place robots in charge? Over people?”

  Jared could feel the Leader’s ire building. He tried to think of something that would both convince and placate.

  Thurgood chimed in before any words came to him. “The Cybrids were in charge of these habitats long before you people came here.”

  Oh, bollocks—Jared thought—here we go.

  Before he could put any words together, Alum exploded in fury.

  “The old ways, the ways of technology and sin will never return to My People,” he thundered. “Our Lord, Yehsua, has given these habitats to My People. My People! Not to the old sinners and their machines.”

  Jared could hear the capitalization. “My People.” Jenny, why did you have to push him? Had she forgotten how short a step it was from leader of religion and politics to outright megalomaniac?

  “Perhaps we all need to take a breath,” Jared said, trying to bring the discussion back to a calm place. “No one is suggesting people answer to the Cybrids. We are simply suggesting we use all available skills to solve our current problems before they become dangerous. Cybrids can help. Those of us in the old Administration can help. We all just want to help.”

  Alum strode back to his place behind his desk and sat imperiously in his chair.

  “This meeting is over. You may bring your proposals to Council if you wish to pursue it with them.”

  He bowed his head to the displays on his desktop and picked up his stylus.

  Strang and Thurgood glanced at each other and left quietly.

  Once the two Councillors had vacated the room, John Trillian walked in from an adjoining room and softly closed the door behind them.

  Alum put down his stylus. “Any comments?” he asked.

  Trillian was intrigued by the lack of emotion in his Leader’s face. Moments earlier, he’d sounded enraged; now he appeared perfectly calm. He wasn’t sure whether to admire the Leader’s control or to be afraid of it.

  “They seem to have good information,” was all he said.

  Alum rubbed his chin. “Indeed. They are a little closer to the mark than what we’ve leaked. Blind luck, or something else?”

  “Well, they’re not fools, and they are well connected to the situation on the ground.”

  “Yes, their network is sparse but wide. Do you think it’s more than that?”

  “Do I think they have a hand in causing the problems?” Trillian clarified. “No, their hands are clean. Everything points to the others.”

  “To Hodge and Cutter?” Alum asked.

  Trillian nodded. “Yes, and a few of their influential friends and colleagues. I’ve linked troubles in the banks directly to executive orders from those two. They were tricky. Some of those orders were only caught on what they thought were inactive cameras in private meeting rooms and in supposedly unmonitored corridors.”

  “Did you have sound in those as well?” Alum asked.

  “In the majority of them, yes. When they moved out of range, we had to do a little lip-reading. Handy algorithm, that.”

  “Quite. So you think these two, Strang and Thurgood, may be genuine?” Alum asked.

  “I will accede to your judgement, of course, but they seem trustworthy to me,” Trillian replied.

  “Was I too harsh with them?”

  Trillian barked a laugh. “No; there’s no harm in putting a little fear of God in them, sir.”

  Alum allowed himself a little smile. “Well, they needed it. They are smugly confident of their own skills and of their precious Cybrids.”

  “I hate to say it but, in this case, they may have good reason to be smug,”

  “Yes, I think I’ve let them run unchecked for too long,” Alum conceded. He tapped his chin with his index finger while he thought.

  Trillian watched in silence until the corners of his Leader’s eyes pulled upward and an impish grin form on his lips.

  “You have a plan, sir?”

  “Always, John. Let’s give the Councillors a little leeway. When they bring their proposal up in chambers, I think I will side with them.”

  “That will come as a surprise.”

  “I expect it will. Let’s allow their Cybrids to come in and attempt to help. At the same time, let’s allow Hodge and Cutter to continue their efforts.”

  Trillian was confused. “Pit them against each other? How will that help our position?”

  “It won’t, not directly,” Alum replied. “I expect things to get better sometimes and worse sometimes. We may have to help out Hodge and his crew if the Cybrids start gaining too much of an upper hand.”

  “Sabotage our own plans?”

  “You have to think of the long game, John. It will end when we want it to, when it’s to our best advantage.”

  “Will we be able to control how it plays out?”

  “Of course,” Alum assured him. “We have something they don’t know about. We have the Securitors.” He picked up his stylus and went back to work.

  Trillian nodded appreciation, and returned to his surveillance. Those troublemakers have no idea what they’re up against. No idea.

  29

  Mary’s virtual consciousness floated in a haze of golden light sandwiched between two infinite jade plains.

  She manoeuvred through clouds of words and symbols, lines and circles, images and neural networks that, collectively, comprised the high-level representation of her software and knowledge base. The plane above represented the inworld simulation in which she was trapped; the plane below, her concepta. Between the two was the most fundamental level of her operating system, the BIOS.

  Some areas appeared hazy or patchy; others were clearer. She recognized the latter as sections of her BIOS machine code that she’d rewritten into a programming language she could follow. The crude, inelegant code even in those areas revealed her shaky understanding of her connection to this simulated prison.

  It’s rudimentary but I’m making progress.

  Given more time, maybe a few more years, she’d have no trouble unravelling the program and turning the odds to her favor. But she didn’t have that luxury; Trillian could be back any minute, and this time, he wouldn’t be in the mood to go easy. She was pretty sure of that.

  What other tools and powers did you bury in my system, Darya? Is the answer already inside me? I’ve let you down; I didn’t make the time to explore the tools you gave me and now it could cost me my life.

  If I make it out of here, I’ll have some homework to catch up on. In the meantime, I’ll just have to make do with what’ve I’ve got.

  She went back to thinking about the Alternus program. There’s got to be a weak point here somewhere. One more time, what do we know?

  The simulation runs on its own quark-spin substrate. It’s grown on the same spintronic microchips found on inworld computers. Some routine or subroutine would have to connect the simulation code to its exotic hardware.

  Which means….

  The beginning of an idea
was germinating. Mary struggled to coax it forward into her consciousness.

  Which means….

  Which means…. Come on, think!

  Which means, somewhere in the billions of lines of code that make this prison cell, there’s a connection between Vacationland and the basic Alternus code. And from there, to the quark-spin hardware.

  That’s it! If I can just find the code and figure out how to interface with it, I’ll have Darya’s ability to hack the inworlds. I can get out of here!

  Except, I have no idea what the routines look like. How am I going to find the interface in all that code? She looked with despair at the billions of instructions streaming by in the plane overhead?

  It didn’t help that her present environment was less than optimal for concentrating. I have to keep trying. If I don’t find a way to win against Trillian, what little time I have left in this life will be painful.

  I just need more time.

  The drawn-out creak from the rusty prison door hinges penetrated her concentration. He’s back!

  Mary opened her eyes. Not one but four Trillians stood at the entrance to her cell, all wearing the same smirk. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. Was she seeing double? Rather, quadruple?

  “Come for another chat, have you?” she said to the Trillians.

  The left-most Trillian answered for all four. “Not exactly; it’s time to take our little game up a notch.”

  Mary stood up and took a strong stance. She was ready to confront him. Correction, them.

  Since becoming a guest of Trillian’s special hospitality, she’d been working out intensively, something unheard of to inworld Cybrids. Why would anyone exercise when you could simply change your avatar’s body type on a whim? When Trillian cut her off from the Vacationland Supervisor, that all changed. No more commands or requests. No ordering up any physique she wanted. If she wanted something, she was going to have to make it happen all by herself.

  More proof that the realistic physics of Alternus has leaked into this inworld. Alternus had been the first inworld she’d ever heard of in which people had to exercise if they wanted to become stronger.

  And so, for the first time in her long existence, she threw herself into building up her muscle naturally, through hard work. She was determined not to be held back by the physical limitations—the burden—of her defiantly overweight, under-muscled inworld body choice.