Shards [Book Three]

by Peter W Prellwitz

  “Please! Please stop!” He screamed, but nothing came out of his throat.

  “That's much better! I never thought teaching manners would be so hard, even to an ass like you.” Sheets of pure energy rose out of the floor, surrounding him. He felt himself being lifted free of the lava by another sheet. Suddenly, they slammed around him, encasing him. He flinched, but they didn't hurt. In fact, they eliminated all the pain. He looked at his feet and felt relieved they were back, as were his hands. He rose shakily.

  His office had started transforming. It was still his office, but the walls were beginning to separate at the corners, and pure, blinding light was flooding in. His desk had turned into a bright red stone, which the creature was sitting on. It was looking at him with an intensity that was almost a physical blow.

  “Who, who are you?” Posen stammered. “You're from NATech Xeno, aren't you? I can explain."

  “By all means, please explain. I'd love to hear about your actions. Level thirty-one."

  Posen flinched, but nothing happened other than the walls became partially translucent. He looked around to the chair he always kept in the corner and found its replacement: a dull red rock. He sat gingerly on it, then relaxed when it didn't hurt. He felt slightly better. He was still at the mercy of this glowing monster, but if there was any talent Posen had above all others, it was the ability to explain away the unexplainable. It was this gift that had gotten him into Randex, into a commission, into good graces with both the Resistance and NATech. This would be harder, but still doable.

  With great detail, and more truth than he thought possible, he reported to the Xeno creature his entire mission concerning Abigail Wyeth. He omitted only his independent attentions. He finished and waited. The thing seemed in no hurry to say anything. Finally, unable to bear the constant stare, Posen rose angrily to his feet.

  “Well? I've given you my full report. Your orders have been carried out exactly. Wyeth has been forcibly sharded three times in two days, and is now on her way to that refuge town. Glenside, or Glenwood or whatever. What more do you want?"

  The creature raised a finger and Posen heard his own voice filling every cubic centimeter of space.

  “It was I who carried you back to your bed, getting your blood all over my tunic. It seemed you owed me for the inconvenience, so I helped myself to payment. You were unconscious, but that was probably for the better, seeing the effect you had on Hawthorne. And since you couldn't resist, it made our time together far sweeter. I enjoyed you thoroughly It was I who carried you back to your bed, getting your blood all over my tunic. It seemed you owed me for the inconvenience, so I helped myself to payment. You were unconscious, but that was probably for the better, seeing the effect you had on Hawthorne. And since you couldn't resist, it made our time together far sweeter. I enjoyed you thoroughly. It was I who carried—"

  “All right!” he yelled, barely audible above the booming sound. “All right! I—I took advantage of her while she was unconscious."

  “You mean you sexually molested her. Level forty-one.” The walls turned to glass, and Posen found himself in the middle of a vast plain. As far as he could see, there was a field of shimmering gold and green grass. Close by was a stream that was an impossible blue, shot through with ribbons of vivid scarlet-silver. Overhead, the sky was pitch black, but light flooded from everywhere.

  “It was I who carried you back to your bed, getting your blood all over my tunic.” His voice was even louder, pushing him to his knees and causing the grass to vibrate, setting off a low hum. “It seemed you owed me for the inconvenience, so I helped myself to payment. You were unconscious, but that was probably for the better, seeing the effect you had on Hawthorne. And since you couldn't resist, it made our time together far sweeter. I enjoyed you thoroughly. It was I who—"

  “Yes! Yes! I molested her! But she's just a Cue! She has no legal rights or recourse! Why does it concern you? I carried out your orders!” He covered his ears without effect. “I wish I'd never seen that damned bitch!"

  The self-accusing voice was silenced; the creature stood up and helped Posen to his feet.

  “That's your second wish, flesh, and you wasted that one, too. What's done is done. Only one wish left. Better use it right. Come on, up you go, flesh. Let me show you something.” They walked a few step to the now transparent walls. The creature yanked Posen back.

  “We can't go through there. The walls would shatter. and there'd be litter all over the place. That's easily fixed, though.” He raised his voice again. “Level fifty-three."

  Instantly the walls vanished and the plain came to life. Glowing brown plants sprouting blue crystal petals sprang up from the ground. The green and gold grass swallowed up the hard floor, and Posen felt its velvety softness take the weight from his feet. He felt an excitement and joy begin to fill him.

  “Good,” the thing said contentedly. “Not best, but good. Follow me."

  They walked for several minutes, covering ground at a fantastic rate. Posen knew where he was now. They had entered the puterverse, and this creature was one of its programmed residents. That meant he was safe from mortal harm. Perhaps this was a kind of test, to see if he were worthy of promotion within NATech Xeno. Promotion! He began to feel embarrassment over his earlier showings of fear. But at least he saw a way out. The tormenting had ended when he confessed to his molesting of the girl. Did Xeno use sexual attack in the same manner as the NATech SS? It made sense.

  “Tell me, creature, do you have a name?"

  “Yep.” Posen's ears burned with irritation when it said nothing else. He felt anger as well. What right did this non-living thing have to not obey him? But he held his tongue, remembering the shielding He was still not absolutely certain that he was safe.

  They continued on and Posen saw the land begin sloping down. He saw for the first time a large river less than a kilometer away.

  “That can't be the Quantum!” he said in disbelief.

  “Yes it can, flesh. Pretty, isn't it?"

  It was more than pretty, it was stunning. It was filled with endless streams of data, intertwined together until they became an unstoppable force working along the massive river bed. Impossibly deep shades of blue set the background for the more playful slivers of color that dashed in and out, carrying data, information, and hopes and dreams.

  “I never dreamed it could be this beautiful!” Posen forgot where he was, he was so taken by the sight.

  “Yeah? Try this ... Level sixty-one!” The creature called out.

  Again the landscape changed dramatically while remaining the same. Blacks became indescribably solid, and whites blinding white. Posen was able to see millions of colors all around him, and could actually see them as millions of colors. His senses reeled from the sight and he stumbled to the ground, staring at it, able to pick out each one of the billion bits of data that it was composed of. Yet despite the near overload, he reveled in it.

  Then he heard a soft sound, wafting on the breeze that came off the river. Unlike everything else, he had to strain to hear it. At first it sounded like a song. Then he could pick out words. They were his words.

  “It was I who carried you back to your bed, getting your blood all over my tunic. It seemed you owed me for the inconvenience, so I helped myself to payment. You were unconscious, but that was probably for the better, seeing the effect you had on Hawthorne. And since you couldn't resist, it made our time together far sweeter. I enjoyed you thoroughly. It was I who carried you back to your bed, getting..."

  He smiled this time, not feeling any guilt. He understood now why he was here. He rose to his feet and looked at the creature, who stood staring at him, arms folded.

  “I said those words, creature. They are mine and only barely describe what I meant."

  “Then you stand by them?"

  “More than that. I was going to act on them again. I had hoped to spend a full night with her. I didn't have the nerve to take her fully the first time, but believe me, I've learne
d to—"

  The creature held up an arm, cutting him off.

  “Okay, fine. That's enough.” He seemed almost uncomfortable with Posen's frankness, and Posen felt a sense of victory. He was now in control of the situation.

  “Good. I hope I have proven my loyalty and willingness to serve Xeno. You will now return me to my quarters, creature."

  “Just a second, flesh. We've got one more place to go."

  How much further could they go? They were at level sixty-one already, only three from the theoretical limit. Did NATech have this much power? A silly question. Of course they did.

  “Very well, creature. But hurry. It's been a long day for me."

  “Yeah, I'll just bet it has.” He cleared his throat and spoke a single word.

  “Access.” Why did that single word send an icy lance through his soul?

  The thin veneer of beauty fell away from the puterverse, and Posen was standing in a vision. He could see things at a thousand kilometers or at a subatomic level. He looked at the Quantum and gasped.

  It wasn't full of data. It was full of thoughts. In an instant he could see into everyone's hopes, he could read the world as a book, or as a single life. Colors became emotions which in turn became sensations of reality as well as thought.

  “Where are we?” he whispered.

  “We're at unrestricted access, flesh. We're in a place that is composed of pure unbound trinary code."

  Posen snapped his head around. “UTC? Impossible! Not even NATech can solve the unsolvable secret, can they?"

  “That bunch of jerks? Not a chance.” Posen felt the shiver in his being again. This time, though, that shiver was also light blue laced with green and smelled like bitter cold. “This is Abigail's world."

  The words drove home with white-red razors of terror. Wyeth did this? That Shard? But he knew it was true. His terror faded to a dull throb of violet sadness. He could smell her sweet scent on the breeze. But it was a scent that accused him, for he had stolen his taste. The ground felt like her skin, but it refused him its softness, for he had stolen that as well. And the air he breathed was made from her laugh and joy and happiness. All things he had destroyed. He turned to the creature to see that it had turned dark green. Deep in its chest was a blue flame, and its eyes had turned to obsidian.

  It had come. Something that happened to everyone else had now come for Posen. He should have been terrified, but he wasn't. He felt a great calm.

  “You spoke correctly, creature. You have given me my own private hell. I destroyed the person who made this, and you are now going to destroy me.” He waved a hand. “All this is a taste of something I can never have. You've shown it to me to convict me. And I stand convicted. And you comfort me with my victim's gentleness, knowing that I have come to my execution on soft wings.” He was amazed at how poetic he sounded. Poetic justice? He smiled sadly.

  “You will kill me now, and I will go to Hell. I will go there with a small taste of what I have surrendered for my deeds. For all eternity I am doomed to know what I could have had. This was your intent?"

  “You got it, flesh. Abby's my best friend. She made me. She took care of me when I needed it. She teaches me, plays with me, works with me, loves me, though not in the way I wish were possible.” He turned his back on Posen, and looked into the Quantum. “The last thing she gave me, flesh, was the ability to access people into the puterverse. It took a while to understand, but I managed.

  “What took even longer to understand was the responsibility that came with it. Think about it, flesh. From this point on, I can choose anyone I want and bring them into this world. And once they are here, all I need to do is snap my fingers and their life-sustaining shield melts away. Just like yours is going to in a moment.

  “It's a huge responsibility, flesh. A huge trust. But like I said, this is Abigail's world. Not yours. Not mine. Not anyone's. It's hers. So though I may bring people here on occasion, it won't be to execute them but to educate them. If Abigail survives her sharding dissolution—and I believe she will somehow—then we'll be in a great position to begin the education. Because NATech will be gone."

  “And what of me, creature? Are you to renege on your claim that you will not execute people you bring here?"

  “Sorry, Posen, but you didn't hear right. I didn't bring you here, remember? You're here at Abigail's request. She might stop me, she might not. But we won't find out in time for you, because you sharded her. So I go with her last words."

  The creature calling him at last by name was his sentence of death. Posen couldn't put it off any longer. Nor did he want to. The peace and serenity of the puterverse was deep inside him already, and every moment here only made his eternal damnation that much worse. It was time to end it.

  “Very well, creature. Allow me my third wish. Be quick."

  Mike raised his hand and smiled. “Now that, I can do.” And he snapped his fingers.

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  . COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RESET POUR PRESS COOL RE

  ...sight came back to my eyes and I looked around. It was dark, but there was a slit of sunlight that forced its way through the boarded windows and shone on the far wall, setting a spider's web ablaze with the color of sunset red. The spinner of the web seemed to be making the best of the fading daylight, and was busily stretching new threads onto its sticky framework, hoping to lay the perfect net for tonight's catch of mosquitoes, gnats and flies.

  I sat up. I was back in my room. Alan, or one of his people, must have discovered me and brought me back, laying me on my mattress. My shirt, a NATech issue piece of faded gray cotton, was soaked in sweat. My pants, also NATech issue and faded gray, were folded neatly and sitting on the crate I used for a dresser. That meant it had been Dorothy who put me to bed. She always took off my pants and cleaned them whenever I sharded. They were my only pair, and they needed to last until the Resistance hov snuck in with more. NATech issued one pair of pants and two shirts to you at official internment, assuming those who outlived their clothes could replace them with the clothes of those who did not. Underclothes were luxuries

  I flipped the sheet aside and rolled onto the floor, at trip of three inches since my mattress lay on it, and carefully stood up. The room swayed a little as the blood redistributed itself, but I stayed on my feet. I went to my counter, where I kept a small cross leaning against the wall, and did my morning devotion and prayers. I had managed to acquire a Bible shortly after arriving in Glendale, so I was also able to do a short study. Romans 6 today, which was very appropriate for shards, as comforting to us as the Twenty-third Psalm.

  I finished my reading and put the tired Book down and rose. I looked at my bed and was relieved to see I didn't have to clean up; sharding caused the body's metabolism to nearly shut down, but particularly long episodes could lead to messy consequences. My shards hadn't reached the point where they lasted longer than three days, for which I was thankful.

  I went to my small sink and pulled the stopper out of the bare pipe. A small but steady trickle of water flowed into my washbasin. The water started out hot, brought to high temperature from the desert sun, but became tepid after a few moments.

  While I waited for the basin to fill, I began doing my stretching exercises. I didn't know who I'd sharded as, but it was a fairly safe bet it hadn't been as Miss DeChant or the girl; my muscles vigorously protested my actions. I still had most of my strength and agility. What I lacked these days was endurance. Four months of irregular meals consuming food of questionable nutritional value will do that to you.

  I only stretched for five minutes. By now I was completely covered in sweat. The sun was going down within the hour, but my room was still over thirty degrees. The basin was about half full, so I stopped up the pipe. I pee
led off my worn out shirt and doubly worn out panties to wash up. Dorothy had already taken off my bra, to help me breathe easier during my shard.

  I doled out a small amount of soap into the basin, then set it aside. Grabbing my cooking pot, I laid it under the pipe and unstopped it again. It began filling slowly. Using my shirt as a washcloth, I cleaned myself head to toe, rinsing with the water in the pot. Using my wash water, I then cleaned both shirt and panties, silently thanking Dorothy that she'd already done my pants. Whenever I had to do them, I was stuck in my room until they dried. Walking around half naked in a town filled with ripers and NATech grunts was a less than wise idea. I wrung out my only pair of panties and put them on. My shirt I also wrung out, but hung up to dry since I had another.

  I went to the crate to fetch my other shirt and noticed a note from Dorothy. She always left a note of encouragement for her charges, something to pick us up after the episode ended.

  Rise & Shine, Runt!

  You went off to la-la land about halfway back to your room. A runner found you about four hours later, during night patrol. I put you to bed and did the wash. That was yesterday. You'll need to stick your head in at quarters when you get back to find out how long it's been since then. Oh, put a mark in the Foundry column. Don't stay away too long, love. We miss you! Alan and the gang say hi.

  Dorothy

  PS. It's now two days.

  I pulled my other shirt from the crate and used it to dry off. Dorothy had gotten so good with shards that she could distinguish between even non-organic shards. My foundry ripe tended to leave my body completely limp, whereas my apartment, netter, orbital station and PlaNet ripes had various degrees of tenseness. To me, they were indistinguishable except for the soreness of my muscles when I woke up. I picked up a pencil and wrote a hash in the Foundry column on my tablet. That made ten in the last three months, more than all the others combined, not counting Miss DeChant and the girl. I wondered why.