Socket 1 - The Discovery of Socket Greeny

by Tony Bertauski

  The trees all looked the same and soon the path ended. We slowly picked our way through the forest until we reached the next ridge. We stopped on a stone outcropping that overlooked ten thousand acres of white treetops. Walnut-sized snowflakes blotted out the sun.

  Streeter was right, the Rime was huge. With all the dataflow needed to keep it running, we would be like grains of sand on a long beach. A lookit spy returned from the trees and warbled in her ear.

  “There’s a small cave a quarter-mile down this side.”

  The hill was steep. I couldn’t slow down, not with the gimpy leg, and ended up rolling half the way. I bounced off trees and tumbled from rocky ledges. Chute hooked an arm around my waist, hauling me to level ground. We splashed through a stream. My leg was hardly working by then.

  The water weaved between snow-covered boulders and fell over a cliff. We stopped at the edge of the waterfall, the water dropping twenty feet into a pool of rising steam.

  “It’s over there,” she said. The opening to the cave was partially obscured by heavy spruce branches. “Let’s follow it into the mountain. Streeter said the more we get lost, the harder it will be to find us.”

  We leaped together, arm-in-arm, torpedoing down the waterfall to the bottom of the pool. Our battle gear was too heavy for swimming, so we climbed out. Chute wrung out her cape, throwing it over her shoulder. We were well protected by ancient conifers and cliffs. The wind howled high above, but at the mouth of the cave it was as still as dawn.

  “Come on.” Chute moved ahead, dotting the virgin snow. “Let’s get inside before we freeze solid.”

  Ice crystals formed on my nose. My pants crunched. Chute held the branches out of the way and I hobbled into the dreary darkness. The portal glowed through Chute’s pouch, silent ever since we left the cabin.

  “Got a light?” I said.

  “Hold on.” She felt around. “It’s in here somewhere.”

  Just pull out the portal. Or forget it; we’ll walk in the dark. I never said either of those things. A snaky sensation rolled in my guts and seized my mind. Something was in there—with us.

  “Will this do?” A dim light flickered in someone’s palm, glowing brighter, illuminating his white face and body. “Dear Socket?”

  Monster and monsters

  We ran from the cave but I fell headfirst into the snow. Chute stooped to help me to my feet. “Go!” I yanked away. “Take the portal and go!”

  Chute pulled me through the snow. Behind us, Broak watched with his hands on his hips, both arms intact. Slit-mouth turned up.

  “What’d you want?” she shouted. “You want this?” She tore away the pouch. “You want to save the world by yourself, is that what you came for? Well, here, go save the world, hero!”

  “No!” I caught the corner of the pouch and it landed at my feet. “Don’t give it to him.”

  “He’s going to shred our sims, so what?” She squatted down, put her arms around my chest and sat me up.

  “I’m going to be saving the world, indeed,” he said, “though perhaps not as you envision.”

  Broak eased the portal out of the pouch. His generic face radiated pale blue. He turned it around, admired the swirling colors. He snapped off a piece of the shell and sank his fingers into the portal. It jiggled like a gooey mass and jumped away, at first, then oozed up his wrist. The opaque whiteness of his skin darkened. Blue flames ignited from inside the portal, creeping up his arm. Veins pulsed up his shoulder, bulging like slithering purple snakes. The flames wrapped around his shoulders then engulfed his entire body, the whiteness giving way to fleshy color. The details of his skin-body took form and absorbed the flames and then he was there, the real Broak. Black eyes, black hair and perfect teeth.

  He stretched, admiring his hand, front and back. Smiled. “Welcome to a new era, dear friends.”

  “What just happened?” Chute’s voice quivered.

  The portal was the same colors as the wormhole Mom drove through. The same as the sacred portal deep below the Garrison that ripped me from my skin, took me somewhere through space and time. The portal was a transporter, too; transporting our awareness from skin to sim. But he was, in a sense, making direct contact with it. Did it transport him? Was that really Broak? Did he bring his skin into virtualmode?

  He twirled around, head back and arms extended catching snowflakes on his tongue. Snow crunched under his feet as he giggled. He didn’t want to save the portal, he wanted to use it. Broak had nothing to do with the Paladins. And if he wasn’t a Paladin…

  “You’re a duplicate.”

  He bent down next to me. “That is very astute, dear Socket, but incorrect. I am not a duplicate, but it is true I am no longer associated with the Paladin Nation. They will find my skin in the Garrison connected to a portal, but it is of no use to me now. That heart need beat no longer.”

  “You never had a heart. You’re a traitor.”

  “Of course I had a heart. I am flesh and blood, but never was my heart with the Paladins. I find them to be soiled and imperfect.” He tilted his head, looking for the right word. “Too human.”

  “They created you. How could you betray them?”

  “They created me.” He chuckled. “Do you hear yourself? They created me. Does that sound human to you?” His lip quivered. “They built me, manufactured me, put breath in my lungs and told me what to do. Does that sound human to you? Mmmm?” He nudged me with his boot. “Mmmm, tell me, does it?”

  Chute slid back, pulled me with her. Broak planted the tip of his boot into my shattered knee. My leg flopped like a rag, crackling like a bag of rocks.

  “DOES THAT SOUND HUMAN TO YOU?” he bellowed.

  His smooth cheeks flushed with rage, he went to the cave and stared into the darkness, collecting his thoughts. He was feeling something, needed to get it under control.

  When he turned back to us, his smile was a perfect mask. “The duplicates showed me the way. If life is good, why waste it with imperfection? Duplicates make decisions based on fact, not feelings. You will see, dear Socket. The world will be a better place when the duplications make decisions. There will be no more corruption, only perfection.”

  “They’re imitations. Not real.”

  “Who says they’re not real? They think, they laugh, they feel. I believe those are the characteristics that define you and me as human, isn’t that so? Mmmm?”

  “Who said we’re supposed to be perfect?”

  He tilted his head, looking all too much like Spindle. “Who says we shouldn’t?”

  Screeches called from the portal. Broak held it to his ear, swayed back and forth. His eyes fluttered and closed. “Let’s get on with the task at hand, shall we?”

  He yanked me toward him with effortless strength—so quickly that Chute fell over my shoulder. She boxed him in the middle of the face, pulling me away with her other arm. Broak grabbed my hand. He casually wiped the blood trickling out his nose and looked disgusted.

  “They wanted to kill you, dear Socket. The duplicates wanted their crawlers to unlock the virtualmode and kill you at the same time.” He shook his head, tsking. “Those darn imitations are so efficient. Always multi-tasking.”

  “Why do they want virtualmode?”

  “Why, to get back to the source, of course. They share the same desire as humans, you see. They crave to be connected with the source of their creation just as humans seek peace in their so-called soul. They were born of the virtualmode universe, they cannot survive without it. Paladins sought to cut them off from their life source, but they did not foresee the size of the snake they were taunting. The duplicates cannot be stopped. There are just too many of them. Too bad they didn’t have that dirty rat Pivot to tell the Paladins this truth.” He leaned in and whispered, “The world is ours, now.”

  I struck with my rigid fingers, aiming to split his face in half. He caught my wrist and broke it, my fingers went limp, and then in one smooth motion he plunged my hand into the portal. Blue flames crept up my ar
m to my shoulder. My teeth tingled. I struggled, but Broak held me firm. Chute swatted at the flames walking around my neck, encircling my chest. Veins swelled on the back of my hand. White hair fell over my face.

  My sim doesn’t have white hair.

  The flames stalled and flickered, then rushed around me and Chute like we were bales of dry straw. My hand burned. My smashed knee ached.

  Cold nipped at my cheeks.

  Frozen fabric pressed against my skin.

  Chute screamed.

  The pain came all at once. Shattered bones and broken nerves radiated like nails into my knee. Chute squeezed tighter.

  “Baaill… bail…” My lips were stiff and numb. “Code… bailll out code bail.”

  “Welcome, dear friends, to your new skin!” Broak raised his arms. “Sometimes you feel pleasure, sometimes you feel… pain.”

  I blacked out.

  * * * * *

  Chute was rocking me back and forth when I came to. “What’s going on, Socket?”

  Her teeth chattered. That’s when I noticed her hands wrapped over my chest. They were fleshy. She was shaking.

  “I did not bring you here to murder, dear Socket.” Broak paced restlessly toward the cave. “I will admit I tried to end your life in the Graveyard, yes. Forgive me for that, will you, dear friend? Because since then, I have had an epiphany. I cannot take credit for this brilliant idea. It was my mentor that understood your true potential. This was all his idea, yes.”

  The portal swelled to twice its size in his hands. It was screeching.

  “If you will excuse me a moment.”

  He dug his fingers in and pulled it open. The remains of the shell twinkled onto his feet. He smiled, at first, then grunted. His arms bulged as the portal attempted to close, forcing Broak to one knee for leverage. He stretched it open again and this time a jointed stick poked through, feeling around. Another poked out and then another until there were eight. The jointed sticks helped hold the portal open until it gave birth to a putty-colored glob.

  The crawler fell into the snow, then rose up like a newborn calf, its body pulsing. Two more plopped next to it, all three shaking on new legs, growing with each pulsation.

  “I will admit, your death seemed to be the only solution.” Broak tossed the portal aside. “The duplicates already find Paladins a formidable opponent; they couldn’t have you making the Nation stronger, faster and smarter. They wanted you dead. But then my mentor came up with an idea, not just a way to eliminate you but a way to steal you from them.”

  The crawlers were already double their original size, spiking their legs into the ground. Broak stroked their backs.

  “You see, my friends are going to pull you apart and integrate your genetic code into our database. Your DNA will be the blueprint for new and improved duplications. You will help us, dear Socket. You will become one of us.” He smiled wide and whispered. “Is that not wonderful?”

  Savior

  Chute tried to lift me, but I screamed at the effort. She slid me to the water, panting. Her foot plunked into the pool. The crawlers’ bodies beat like hearts, watching us struggle with their brightening eyelights. Broak edged closer.

  “Don’t fret, dear Socket.” He wiped the water from my cheek. “You’re going on to a better life.”

  Chute slapped his hand. “Don’t touch him!”

  He only smiled and went back to his pets, now shoulder tall, bobbing and weaving. He rubbed their bodies. They nuzzled back.

  “As you can see, we have everything the Paladins have. Technology is our specialty.”

  “You’re not a duplicate,” I said.

  “Not yet.” He held out his arms. “But soon, I will download into a fabricated body of my choice. I will determine my fate. I will be the captain of my life.” His energy darkened, casting a shadow over his face. “Do you think I want to be victimized by those Paladins any longer? Slave to the human race, mmm? I am my own god now, dear Socket. I can become whatever I want in the real world. What’s not real about that, mmm? Why would humans resist their heart’s desire? They are far too selfish not to follow. And here’s the big surprise, my dear one. Are you ready for it?” He stood straight and his expression brightened. “You’re coming with me.”

  Chute whimpered, pulling me deeper into the water. I was struggling just to keep from screaming. “There’s… nothing real… about you.”

  “Well, if I’m no longer real…” He kicked my broken knee. The pain radiated like electricity. “Maybe that will change your mind.”

  I could hold the scream in no longer.

  * * * * *

  “Rejoice!” Broak shouted with his back to us, his voice echoing into the cave. “Mankind will no longer toil in incompetence.”

  My teeth clattered. Chute’s breath was warm on my ear.

  “Humanity’s suffering will come to an end! We will put the world in order. The human race will evolve into a super species of choice and freedom!”

  The timeslicing spark flashed inside me. Brighter. Firmer. I wrapped my mind around it and colors swirled. Snowflakes staggered. Broak lifted his arms, palms to the sky, surrounded by a halo of light.

  I sliced time.

  Energy filled me, pouring into every muscle and every broken bone. In the dead silence, I closed my eyes and searched out the source of my agony. I traveled through my own veins, penetrating tissues and nerves. I knew the ways of my body intimately, and commanded it to heal. Cartilage reconnected in my knees, bones fused together in my wrist. Pain was arrested.

  But the spark slipped like a greased rat, squirming from my grip. Nerve lines screamed again. A crawler lifted Broak onto its back. Broak squeezed it between his knees, his face lifted to the heavens.

  “Do that again,” Chute said. “Whatever you just did, do it again. You felt stronger.”

  “I… can’t.” The spark was dim. It was too soon. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  “Don’t say sorry.” She squeezed tighter. “Don’t you say that!”

  “Flawless.” Broak almost sang the word, the hard line of his brow darkening his eyes. “That is what we’ll bring them, dear Socket. Unadulterated perfection.”

  His choppy laughter echoed over the trees. I chased the spark again, squeezed it every direction I could, but it avoided me. Rudder! Please, bring it back.

  The crawlers reared up on their hind legs like wild stallions and unleashed a screech, blowing the hair away from my face. Blood rushed past my throbbing eardrums. Chute scrambled deeper, dragging me with her. Water crept above my waist.

  “We are saviors.” He raised the portal with both hands. “Rejoice… for it is at hand, dear Socket… rejoice for I WILL LEAD THEM TO THE PROMISELAND!!”

  The crawlers reared again, their jointed legs aimed at us. They would pull me apart, study every cell and every strand of DNA. They would become stronger because of me. They would become faster because of me. People would suffer. The world, the real world, would end. It would end because of me. I didn’t want this. Pivot was wrong. I was no hero, I was a curse. The world would pay, because of me.

  “LOOK OUT!” Streeter’s voice vibrated in my skull.

  CccrrraaaaaAAAACCCKKKKKKKKK!

  A flash, then blindness. Deafness. The percussion stopped my heart and the world spun.

  Colder. And wetter.

  * * * * *

  Frigidness stole the feeling from my skin and the air from my lungs. I opened my mouth and sucked a mouthful of water. My wet clothes pulled me down. I couldn’t tell which way was up until I hit the rocky bottom. I tried to kick upward, but my leg would not work. I heaved myself up, but the surface was too far away. I wouldn’t get there. My lungs blazed and unconsciousness settled around me like a warm blanket. My hand slipped and I fell. I scrambled again, but felt myself drifting.

  Something grabbed my wrist and yanked me up. Once. Twice. Three times, someone pulled at me with frantic desperation. Darkness had settled on my wide-open eyes.

  * * * * *
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  Something soft and warm pressed on my lips, blew air into my chest. It happened again. And then I puked warm water.

  “Oh, god,” I blubbered, rolling over.

  “Socket.” Chute grabbed my tunic and shook me. “Oh, thank God you’re all right! I thought you were gone.”

  The world was bleached and bleary. Water dripped off Chute’s chattering chin. Her eyes were red and misty. Her hair smelled sulfuric. We lay on muddy ground; the snow was gone.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  She sat back on her knees. “Lightning.”

  I turned my head. A blackened crater sizzled at the mouth of the cave, smoke rising from the center. The crawlers’ misshapen bodies were scattered around, their legs twisted and bent.

  Chute helped me stand, our water-soaked clothes already stiffening in the arctic air, but it kept me numb. I hobbled with her help to the smoking crater. Broak lay in the bottom. The left half of his chest was missing, as was his left arm. His hair and clothes had evaporated to his waist, revealing skin blistered like tar. Perfect teeth gleamed through holes in his cheeks. The portal, blue and glittering, lay wedged under his arm.

  “Holy shit.” Streeter’s voice echoed in my skull. “I just fried those assholes like butter. I’m sorry it took so long, I don’t have the control panels in this crawl space and I wanted to build a lightning bolt with enough voltage to melt them like plastic.” He chuckled. “They won’t virtualmode for months. Not in those sims.”

  Chute couldn’t look away. She began to shake, pushing me away and staring at the bottom of the crater. She tried to speak. I held her close but she pushed again. “This isn’t happening… this isn’t…”

  I turned her from the scene, held her closer. Tensed and shaking, she tried to fight me off. I held her until she went limp. She laid her head on my shoulder and wept. We stayed that way, swaying back and forth while she cried.