by Paul Anlee
“Yes. I’m involved in the banking world, as well. He thought we might share some common interests.”
“You don’t say. How intriguing. Where do you work?” Leisha knew most of the important international bankers and had never seen this man before. “Or have you only recently started inworld?”
“Yes, indeed,” he replied. “But long enough to get established. Apparently, I have some small talent in computer security, likely a result of my outworld design work. A few months ago, I was able to find an inworld inhabitant who owns a consulting business in banking systems security. He wasn’t taken yet, so I instantiated into his character. Gerhardt, in his role as Director Campeau, recently hired my services to review the risk profile of some medium-sized state banks. It’s already been great fun, I must say.”
“And did you know Gerhardt…outside?”
“No. I mean, I knew of him, but we always got assigned to different projects. Then again, there’s an awful lot of us involved in the…outside construction. Too many to know personally.”
“That’s true.” Leisha laughed at his oblique reference to the Deplosion Array. There weren’t any official rules prohibiting discussion of the outworld while in an inworld sim. It just wasn’t done, especially not within the more realistic inworlds, of which, Alternus was surely the epitome.
“Would you like to join me? I’ve just ordered some lunch.”
“I would be delighted.” The man scanned the terrace and windows to make sure none of the staff were looking and, with a roguish grin, placed both hands on the fence and vaulted over. He landed gracefully on the patio and bowed with a flourish calculated to garner Leisha’s appreciative applause. As a capping gesture, he lifted her hand to his lips and delivered a gentle kiss more suited to the finer company in Latin Europe than downtown Manhattan.
“My inworld name is Jack Trillian. I am enchanted to make your acquaintance, Ms. Grishwold.”
“Trillian?” Leisha was immediately cautious. “An interesting name choice.”
“Alum was feeling generous the day I chose it. It’s meant to honor the Shard, whom I respect greatly. And perhaps to reflect my own charming roguishness.” He bowed, but his smile was clearly ironic.
Leisha laughed appreciatively. “Please, do sit down, Mr. Trillian. You’ll embarrass me. I’m trying to avoid attention today.”
Trillian sat, settling into his role. “Thank you. I suppose you must find it difficult escaping unwanted attention, with your position in this troubled world and, doubly so, with your breathtaking beauty.”
“Oh, stop now,” said Leisha. “Behave yourself or I’ll have to un-invite you from my table.”
Trillian smirked. “I beg your pardon. I’ve just come from Casa DonTon, where things are considerably more formal.”
“Ah, DonTon, yes. Is it as pretentious as they say?”
“Positively stodgy, and the Chattingbaron clan is every bit as snobby as advertised. I don’t know that I’d recommend the place, even if you could wrangle one of the rare invitations.”
“And how did you come to be there?”
“Business, sadly. A number of my colleagues outside challenged me to gain an invitation. My inworld honor was at stake, so I had to visit. I am able to confirm that it is, indeed, truly overrated. Stilted, boring, and stale. Alum should simply abolish it and be done.”
“Is that so? Are you in the habit of giving advice to the Living God?” Leisha held her wineglass tantalizingly near her lips. For a moment, he considered playing this game to its normal conclusion before proceeding to his true business, but only for a moment. It would not come out well if he were to displease Alum by entertaining dalliances ahead of duties.
Trillian caught a waiter’s attention and, without perusing the menu, ordered a French onion soup, small salad, and a glass of Shiraz. The waiter nodded. “Would you like both meals delivered at the same time?”
Leisha replied for them both. “Oui, s’il vous plait.”
Trillian smiled to see the beautiful young woman showing off for him. That she’d have undoubtedly downloaded a number of ancient languages for her international work did not diminish the gesture.
He sipped his wine thoughtfully as they enjoyed the warm sunshine and waited for their meals.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Only one?” Leisha smiled playfully.
“Well one to start the conversation, and we can see where it goes from there.”
“Well, in that case...” Leisha sat up, folded her hands on the table in front of her, and looked attentive.
“Why are we here?”
Leisha burst out laughing. Was he being boldly suggestive or unexpectedly philosophical?
Darya’s group had been grappling with their goals and purpose, both inworld and outworld, in a meeting the previous day. She had not expected the topic to come up so soon in casual conversation.
“I’m sorry,” she said, still chuckling. “That’s not at all what I was expecting.” She wiped her tearing eyes. “Could you clarify the question, please? Do you mean at this café, this inworld sim, or in the larger universe outside?”
Trillian’s eyes twinkled mischievously, imagining other scenarios. “Let’s start with this sim. Gerhardt told me a bit about Earth, I mean Alternus, and how all of you in Darya’s group are pushing for this new Space Program but he didn’t say why.”
He was pleased to see his mention of Darya and the push into space elicited raised brows and then acceptance on Leisha’s part.
“Is this your first instantiation in any of the versions of Alternus?” she asked, instead of addressing his comment.
He scrambled for a reasonable response.
“I’m guessing it is, or you wouldn’t be so surprised by my asking,” she observed.
I must remember how extremely realistic this inworld is—Trillian admonished himself. I need to guard my emotions more closely. Outwardly, he remained calm and confident. “You’ve discovered my secret. Yes, I’m sorry to say, I am a novice here. But not for long.”
Leisha leaned in and spoke in a hush. “This is iteration number four. We’ve had two complete disasters and one peacefully failed resolution to date.”
It was Trillian’s turn to be caught off guard and mildly confused. He fought the urge but curiosity won out; he couldn’t stop himself from forestalling his intended task. He had to find out. “What do you mean?”
“In the past three versions of the sim, we were unable to avoid complete destruction. Twice by nuclear war. The third time, we moved the world toward what we thought would be a promising new economic and cultural foundation. The Supervisor judged it to be inadequate over the long term and terminated the game. So now we’re trying to expand into space, the way the Supervisor wants.”
Despite his considerable intellect and extensive background reading, Trillian was baffled. “But isn’t this all just a game, an entertainment?”
“Sure, it’s a game. But it’s not like Vacationland where the point is simply to have fun. It’s more like a game of Footie or chess, where you have defined, achievable goals—except it’s infinitely more complicated, and the whole world’s involved. We all need to win, collectively.”
“And what would winning entail?”
“According to the Supervisor, it means getting the stubborn, scared, xenophobic people of Earth to work together and start colonizing space.”
“And apart from the satisfaction of a game well-played, what do participants gain from this game?”
“We learn how to rule over humans well enough that we stop them from destroying themselves, either slowly or quickly. At least, that’s how Darya interprets the Supervisor’s judgments.”
“But Alum rules over all,” protested Trillian. “Why would you…we…want to rule in His place?”
“Alum doesn’t rule here,” replied Leisha. “The inhabitants hold amazingly incompatible belief systems based on no rational evidence at all. They call them religions. They all seem to have th
eir own versions of a god or gods, or no God at all. And not one of their gods rules the way Alum rules in the real universe.”
“Alum is truly the Living God.”
Leisha smiled slyly. “I see we’ve switched to discussing outside. This seems like one very long question.”
Trillian spread his hands and pouted sheepishly.
Leisha found the gesture charming, despite its calculated origin. She’d studied inworld human gestures and body language and used the expertise to her own advantage on multiple occasions.
“Very well,” she offered. “I think I can trust you. Anyway, Darya will kill you, literally kill you, if you leak any of this.” She waved him in closer.
Trillian positioned his ear near her lips. Crowning himself the master of this charade did not prevent him from becoming excited by her intoxicating scent. He struggled to focus.
“We are planning a coup,” Leisha whispered.
Trillian’s mind reeled. This was preposterous. Blasphemous! He could hardly breathe through his anger. “A…coup?”
“Well, obviously we can’t replace God, can we? We’re just hoping to isolate a number of star systems from Him so we can determine our own destinies.”
“Won’t Alum send in the Angels?”
“Not if we remove the systems from the starstep network. Without them, it would take thousands of years for Angels to arrive. Who knows what kinds of defenses we could develop by then?” Leisha sat back, defiantly folded her arms, and stared intently at Trillian.
The Shard struggled to regain control of his emotions in the face of Leisha’s arrogance. He met her gaze evenly before dropping his eyes to the wineglass.
To think they would challenge God! Small groups in a few remote systems had attempted to break away in the distant past, the most recent being at the conclusion of the Aelu Wars. Alum’s rule was complete. One could no more oppose Him than…than…sunlight. His Law was perfect and absolute. The mighty Aelu had learned the hard way, through annihilation.
Trillian shook himself back into the moment. He still had much to learn.
“Gerhardt hinted this inworld was somehow connected to the opposition of Alum’s Divine Plan in the outworld. He wasn’t terribly specific, and I couldn’t see how the two could possibly be related,” he admitted. “How would that fit into our plan?”
Leisha noted Trillian had used the word “our” in an attempt to include himself among the conspirators. A hint of caution tugged at her. “I’m not sure I can discuss that. Have you been to one of the meetings yet?”
“Meetings?”
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’. Has anyone given you a brochure for a meeting about Alum’s Divine Plan?”
Trillian recalled someone approaching him at least once every few weeks with an invitation to such a meeting. The brochures were obviously associated with some kind of virus; his defenses easily detected the threat before physical contact was made. He’d brusquely refused the first invitation and waved off every one since. He couldn’t let on that he knew full well what they contained.
“Oh, those! I’ve seen people handing them out. I’ve never been given one, myself. I’m not into group activities, anyway. What does any of that have to do with Cybrids blowing themselves up along with so many asteroid stations?”
Leisha frowned. As far as she was aware, no one had connected the mass suicide bombing around Sagittarius A* with anything happening within the Earth sim. “I probably shouldn’t say any more,” she replied prudently.
The waiter arrived with the meals, giving them both an opportunity to compose their thoughts. Leisha looked at the steaming dishes. “Why don’t we enjoy our lunches while they’re still hot?”
Trillian reached forward and rested a hand on hers. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” he said.
Leisha heard a buzzing near her right ear and reached up with her free hand to brush it away. A glazed look fell over her and she lowered her ineffectively sweeping hand to the table.
Trillian inserted the mind-reaming virus into the unsuspecting Cybrid’s inworld persona and scanned Leisha’s memories for information about Darya’s group and their plans. He reviewed meetings in the cloud restaurants of Vacationland and here inside the Earth sim. He discovered the group’s awareness of the true purpose of Alum’s Divine Plan.
What he didn’t expect to find, buried deep within Leisha’s belief structure, was their dire objection to the Lord’s plan to remake the universe into a state of eternal perfection.
I don’t understand. They should be joyous to be part of the Living God’s final triumph over the unwieldy and unpredictable chaos of this reality! It is an unparalleled honor.
His suspicions were true. The purpose of the meetings was to convince other Cybrids to join the group in active opposition to the Realm.
He replayed the standard pitch used in the meetings and was astonished that anyone would be convinced by such weak arguments. Their concepta virus is more powerful and subtle than I thought.
Trillian shook his head at the arrogance of this Cybrid, the leader of this rebellion: Darya. To oppose the will of the Living God was an act of unspeakable hubris. How can she claim to know what is best for all of Creation? What wisdom does she have to compare to that of the eternal Alum?
She was even more dangerous than they’d thought. To have created an entire inworld of stunning complexity for the sole purpose of infecting large numbers of Cybrids with such obviously-suicidal beliefs, that was an amazing feat.
To remain hidden from Alum and His Shards while creating all this in secret, was incredible.
To base the sim within a technology unknown even to the Lord of All was simply unbelievable. Who was this Cybrid?
The Cybrid. Right. While wallowing in speculation, Trillian had let entire seconds tick away. He sat back in his chair releasing Leisha from the grip of the probe.
“Of course, you’re right,” he said picking up his soup spoon as if nothing untoward had transpired.
Leisha blinked, momentarily dazed as she returned to self-directed consciousness. Wow, where was I? She smiled and picked up her fork, happy to return to a simple social situation. Must be a glitch in the inworld system—she decided.
20
The morning before the G26 meeting, Greg and Kathy hosted a science demo like none the world had ever witnessed.
Vice Presidents, Deputy Prime Ministers, Vice Chancellors, Generals, and scientific advisors of the twenty-six developed nations of the world crowded into the lab beside the enormous vacuum isolation chamber housing the Eater.
Greg performed as scientific Master of Ceremonies, discovering a hitherto hidden flair for the dramatic.
“I’d like you to take a closer look at this thirty-centimeter square plate made of two-point-five-centimeter thick industrial steel. That’s about one foot square and one inch thick. If you’d like to verify its composition, please come forward and lift it. It weighs about seventeen kilos, almost forty pounds, so please be careful as you handle it.”
“It wouldn’t matter if it was made of wood, plastic, or titanium, the effect of the Eater is the same on all materials.” Greg waited while a few walked to the front of the group and lifted the heavy plate and knocked on its burnished surface.
“Okay? Now, I’ll set the plate into this frame and introduce it into the isolation chamber.” Greg nodded, and Kathy opened a sample door in the side of the chamber. He strained as he lifted the block inside and fixed it solidly within the clamp assembly. He closed the door and caught his breath before beginning the demonstration.
“Please direct your attention to the monitors. The Eater has been growing at a slow, stable rate even while isolated within this vacuum chamber several months ago. It is now some ten-point-two centimeters in diameter, about four inches. Today’s demonstration will result in a jump in size to ten-point-three centimeters. We’ll, of course, allow everyone to verify that independently. Unfortunately, the demo will cause the projected demise of Earth to be brought
forward by about six weeks. Unfortunate, but necessary. It’s a fair trade-off to adequately impress upon you the seriousness of Earth’s situation. Can everyone see? Okay, let’s begin.
“The Eater absorbs all matter and energy impinging on its surface and it does so instantly. The apparatus we’ve constructed to move the steel plate over the Eater will measure the velocity of the plate as it encounters the Eater. If you watch the monitor, you’ll see the plate accelerate up to three meters per second before it collides with the microverse.”
Greg pumped out all the air in the sample chamber to equilibrate it with the larger isolation chamber. He pushed a button and the plate shot toward the Eater. A pair of rails guided the block on a collision course with the strange anomaly floating in the center of the vacuum.
Outside the chamber, the monitor displayed the increasing velocity, distance to the Eater, and time left until impact. Seconds and milliseconds spun down as the metal block zipped along its rails. The audience held its collective breath over the last second and released it in a single gasp as the block collided smoothly with the Eater. Its speed didn’t change at all. It was as if it had passed through nothing more solid than a holographic projection.
The frame-and-track assembly returned the block to its starting point. Greg equalized the pressure to match the lab, opened the sample-chamber door, and removed the steel plate. It had a perfectly smooth ten-point-two diameter hole running through the middle. The scientists gasped.
“We believe the surface of the Eater to be a boundary between this universe and a microscale universe with different physical laws from ours,” Greg explained. “The Eater doesn’t merely convert the solid metal to a different state, such as gas or plasma. Matter that contacts the Eater is simply and irretrievably removed from this universe. We haven’t been able to saturate its rate of ingestion; it eats everything we introduce no matter how much or how fast.”
Someone near the back of the room, Greg didn’t see who, called out an objection. “You can’t remove matter from this universe without breaking the First Law of Thermodynamics, that energy and matter be conserved in a closed system.”