Social Faith

by Damien Boyes

  “We have studied the probabilities,” Ankur says, his face plain. “Thoroughly, I assure you. There exists a high likelihood a broad majority of the human race will choose to exist in Fate rather than see their lives end, or choose it voluntarily as a better option than the one they have now. Fate is also the largest supplier of distributed knowledge work on the planet. They contract the Ancestors out for pennies on the dollar. Eventually, this will lead to massive unemployment. A whole sector of the economy undercut by an order of magnitude. We barely recovered from the Bot Crash. Society will collapse once again, and Fate will be there to welcome the refugees, it’s gamified existence the only recourse to a world gone to pieces.”

  It takes me a moment to parse this. “Who cares if people decide a simulated life is better than death? Isn’t it? I chose it. I’ve been in some virts. I could barely tell the difference. Why shoudn’t some poor unlucky bastard born in the wrong part of the world get the chance to live like that? Isn’t it better for everyone? The planet could use a whole bunch fewer people on it.”

  “Because the Ancestors are slaves. You and I, our minds are our own, to use and control. The Ancestors are merely intellectual assets on a hamster wheel simulation of life. Human zombies running an endless maze.”

  “Better a zombie than a corpse.”

  He shakes his head, takes another step closer. “The choice Fate offers is a false dichotomy. Fate uses the Ancestors as slaves. As weapons—” His face tenses, then something comes over him and he smiles. The first time I’ve seen him look anything but pained. “This is Xiao’s goal: a free mesh, for all who want in. Where life—even digital life—is free, and the Ancestors are liberated to seek their own destinies. The future of humanity is being decided here, Mr. Gage. Today. We cannot stop the restoration revolution from coming, but when it arrives, would you have us be slaves?”

  Xiao was supposed to be some kind of evil mastermind crimelord, but everything I’ve heard about him up until now makes him sound like boss of the year. He was a mentor to Vaelyn. Ankur clearly idolizes him. It sounds like he’s trying to save the world.

  Why was Finsbury trying so hard to take Xiao down?

  “Who is Xiao?” I ask. “What is he planning?”

  Ankur pauses, studying my face while he ponders some kind of decision, then says, “Xiao is a refugee from the Yuanfen—an Ancestor. He has experienced the life of someone who's surrendered their destiny to a corporation.”

  I take a breath, stomp some feeling back into my feet, let this all percolate. Ankur’s asking a hell of a lot, and I’m not sure I understand it all anyway.

  Yes, he told me about the fragment hunting me, and yes, he offered to let me kill him if I said so, but who’s to say both of these overtures weren’t calculated to gain my trust? If he’s the fragment, he’d know by now he won’t be able to force me into doing anything I don’t want to do. The only alternative is to get me to volunteer. Give him what he wants.

  Maybe this key is what the fragment wanted all along. Maybe this is why it wanted into my head.

  Ankur’s watching me. Waiting patiently. I don’t quite trust him, he comes across as halfway to zealot with this Fate stuff, but I’m also not sure he’s the fragment of a homicidal superintelligence out to destroy me either. If what he’s saying is true though, if Fate is holding the Ancestor’s lives hostage—

  I have to be sure.

  “What do you need Eka for?” I ask.

  Ankur’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “Not Eka. No, Eka is dead. A failed evolutionary branch. He tempered his emotions and in doing so robbed himself of his humanity. I have no wish to resurrect what he had become. However, his extended rithm still exists. If I can reinhabit it, without the block in my head I’ll have full access to everything I am. Everything he could never be. I won’t become like he did. Cold and vengeful. But we need his skill. Fate’s network is heavily protected. Xiao is able to make limited encursions inside, psyphon out minds one at a time if she’s fortunate. Only Eka can possibly engineer a method for liberating all the minds contained within the Yuanfen.”

  “What happens if you don’t find this key?”

  “We will do our best and likely fail,” he says plainly.

  “And if you find this key, you’d be a superintelligence? Capable of rewriting your thoughts while living in multiple places at once? You’ll be exactly why they’ve got guys with very big guns dedicated to keeping a lid on the AMPs, and take out anyone who tries to illegally grow one with a strike team. You’ll be the most powerful thing the planet has ever seen, and answerable to no one but yourself.”

  His face grows pallid, and after a moment he asks, “Do you have the key, Mr. Gage?”

  I don’t know what key he’s talking about, and even if I did I wouldn’t give it to him. A being like Eka—no one person should have that kind of power.

  But if Fate really is out to enslave the world, one mind at a time…isn't letting a superintelligence on the loose worth the future of humanity?

  “This key,” I ask. “What does it look like?”

  “I can’t be sure. Possibly a datakey.”

  I tore my apartment apart looking for my wedding ring and didn’t find a datakey, looks like I’m not—and then I remember: Dora dumping her bag the first time she came to my apartment. The black datakey scattered amongst her other belongings. Could it be the same one?

  Even if it is, can I trust Ankur to use the power it contains?

  I need to know that Ankur is telling the truth, and there’s only one way I can think of to do that. I need to corroborate his story.

  I need to talk to Xiao.

  “I might have your key,” I say. “But if you want it, I have conditions.”

  He looks at me, wary. “Conditions?”

  “Condition then. Just one.”

  He takes a slight breath, nods. “Name it.”

  “I want to meet Xiao.”

  This seems to catch him off guard. His brow furrows, unsure. Even a little scared.

  A robot wouldn’t look scared.

  “That is impossible,” he says after a moment. “The secrecy of his operation is of the utmost importance. We can’t risk his safety. Even if we have to sacrifice the Eka pattern.”

  “You just told me the future of humanity is at stake. You’re the one who got me into this. That fragment is out there because of you. If you hadn’t gone on that joyride, your head would still be in one piece and I’d still have Connie. You and Xiao would be halfway to wherever it is you’re going. Instead, we’re both fucked. You want the whole world fucked too?” He shakes his head. “I talk to Xiao, he tells me the same thing as you, and I’ll help you find your key. We have a deal?”

  Ankur puts his hands in his pockets, takes a long breath, and nods.

  StatUS-ID

  [a646:d17e:8670:511f::Finsbury/D//GAGE]

  SysDate

  [11:12:18. Wednesday, May 1, 2058]

  “What do you want?” Galvan says as I enter his hospital room. He’s propped up in bed, lying on the sheet. Sterile wraps cover the remains of his legs. His wrists are capped with neurotrode bands, ready for the prosthetics. Thick dark whiskers bristle on his face. He looks older, like he’s lived a decade in the past week.

  I brought him a bag of burgers and fries, lay it on his bedside table. “Brought you lunch,” I say. “Real cow. No pickles.”

  I hadn’t thought though, how’s he going to eat it without hands?

  Now I feel like an asshole.

  “How are you healing?” I ask, my cheeks warm.

  His eyes flick to the bandage on my temple. “Get out,” he says, slowly, the nerve blocks slurring his speech.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but you probably heard—we had a huge break in the Xiao case and I’ve been—”

  “Then get back to it,” he says, dead-eyed.

  “Look, Galvan, I know you’re mad at me—”

  “Mad?” he says, his voice rising, life seeping back in
to his face. “Mad? I was mad at you for letting DeBlanc slide on shyft possession. For talking me into hitting the arKade without back-up. For constantly showing up late. For—” He shoots forward from the waist, his anger stronger than the sedatives, and pounds his wrists into the mattress where his legs should be, “—I’ve got no hands! You did this to me.”

  He’s right. This is my fault. If I hadn’t been shyfting, I’d never have pulled that stunt with the grenades. The cyphers would have locked themselves in their container and set it to broil. He wouldn’t have been in the path of that blast.

  But with the container door open, the cypher with the transmitter survived the heat and lead us to McMillian. Yes, it was a risk, but it was calculated. If Galvan had just hung back instead of getting in the way, instead of getting self-righteous with me—

  I shake my head, tamp the anger down. He’s hurt and lashing out. Let it go. “They’ll fit you for prosthetics and you’ll be up and about before you know it. I served with guys who were hurt as bad as this, it was rough at first but they came around. Most of them were amazed at what new things the tech—”

  “Did they have their dick half-burned off too?” he seethes.

  “I—” They had, some of them. But he doesn’t want to hear that. “I’m sorry, Galvan.”

  “You’re sorry.” His chest is heaving. “You’re sorry.” All at once he straightens, locks eyes with me. “Tell me, Detective Gage.” He’s clamped down on his voice. It’s tight, measured. Cold. “How was it exactly that you managed to single-handedly take out Kade’s muscle at the arKade? For the record. And for that matter, the cyphers at the drone yard? Are you telling me you’re just that good?”

  “I got lucky,” I say. Even I don’t believe me.

  “Bullshit,” he spits back. “You were Revved. You’re Revved now. And who knows what the hell else. You know it and I know it and as soon as I get out of this bed, I’m going to make it my mission to prove that you’re just as dirty as Xiao or DeBlanc or any of those other scumbags who pollute their rithms. I’m going to have your badge and drive your rep so far into the low, roaches won’t give you the time of day.”

  I may be breaking the law, technically, but everything I’ve done has only made me better at my job. I found Eka. I saved lives in McMillian’s apartment. So what if the Revv’s illegal? The way things are going, it won’t be for long.

  Galvan drops back into his pillows, rolls away from me. “Now get the fuck out, Finsbury. And take your goddamned lunch with you. I’d throw it at you but I don’t have any thumbs.”

  I consider telling Galvan everything. About why I started shyfting. About my search for Eka. How it was all about justice for Connie. That I’m not dirty.

  But I don’t. Even in my head that all sounds like excuses. Rationalizations.

  Regardless of the outcome, I’ve done wrong. I’ve broken the law. There’s no excusing what I’ve done to get here.

  Because even now, knowing what’s happened, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  If I confessed, that’d be the end of it all.

  Xiao.

  Eka.

  I’d never find either of them.

  He won’t understand.

  I leave the bag on the table, turn and walk out. I’m not worried about the threats or his anger. He’s in pain and looking for someone to blame. I get it.

  This thing with Eka, I’ve been telling myself it’s about justice, about finding the man responsible for killing Connie, but it’s past that now.

  Galvan’s right. I’ve gone too far. I could never build a case against Amit Johari for killing Connie. Nothing I’ve done would hold up in court. There’s not going to be any justice when I find him.

  Galvan can threaten whatever he wants. By the time his accusations get anywhere, I don’t imagine I’ll be around for him to get any satisfaction out of bringing me down.

  StatUS-ID

  [fdaa:9afe:17e6:a2ef::Gage/-//GIBSON]

  SysDate

  [19:31:13. Sunday, January 19, 2059]

  Ankur walks us up the boardwalk to the street, and an empty black hirecar pulls up as we arrive at the curb, windows blacked-out. The door slides open and Ankur gestures me in.

  I’m reminded of the last time someone wanted me in a hirecar. The fragment, inhabiting Dub, was attempting to abduct me. I hope I’m not falling for a different version of the same trick.

  “Where are we going?” I ask him.

  “I can’t tell you that,” he says.

  I step back, away from the car. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  Ankur doesn’t relent. “I am already putting Xiao’s operation at great risk by bringing you to him. I can’t allow you to become, even unwittingly, in a position to reveal his location. We are at too fine a juncture. A failure now is failure complete. Additionally, I’ll need you to relinquish your tab.”

  He’s conservative, careful. Doesn’t want us tracked. Okay, I’ll play along. For now.

  I need to talk to Dora first. She’ll be waiting for me, anxious to leave. I need to call and tell her where I’m going, who I’m with. She isn’t going to like it, but I don’t want her worrying when I don’t come right back to Saabir’s.

  “Get in,” I say to Ankur. “I need to make a call and then you can have my tab.”

  He chews on his lip, but ducks, slides in and across the seat.

  I step away from the car and get the IMP to call Dora. She answers immediately. Her face is pallid, like she could sleep for a week.

  “What’s wrong?” she says, her eyes darting around on the screen. “Are you okay? Is he dead?”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, and give her a comforting smile. “I’m fine. I’m just going to be a little longer. I have one more thing to do.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t kill him.”

  “No,” I say. “He might be able to help with the fragment. We won’t have to look over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.”

  I see her consider this. “What are you going to do?”

  “I can’t say, not on the phone.”

  She inhales and her chin scrunches up but surprisingly, she doesn’t try to talk me out of it. “Go,” she says, and her eyes soften. “I’m safe here with Saabir. Go what you have to do, but hurry back.”

  “I will,” I say, and as I do a sliver of something bright shines out from the haze of dread and despair that’s been surrounding me since my restoration. My life has been nothing but one bleak revelation after the next, but I have the sense that things may be turning.

  A life with Dora, somewhere warm and safe and remote, might not be so bad after all.

  “One more thing,” I say before she cuts the connection. “That datakey in your bag. Where’d you get it?”

  “What datakey?” She thinks for a second, her eyes flicking back and forth. “Oh that—? It was Elder’s. He left it behind the last night he came to counselling. The night before he disappeared.”

  That’d make sense, if Elder was somehow the fragment’s patient zero. “Did you look at what was on it?”

  She nods, raises the corner of her mouth. “Not at first. I was holding it for him until he came back, but when he didn’t I thought maybe it would have something that we could use to find him.”

  “And?”

  “And I couldn’t read it. My IMP said it was corrupted or something. Nothing but an endless stream of random numbers.”

  “Good. Hold onto it.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Because,” I say. “We might need it to save the world.”

  StatUS-ID

  [a646:d17e:8670:511f::Finsbury/D//GAGE]

  SysDate

  [10:45:52. Thursday, May 2, 2058]

  I’m sitting in a pitch-black storage unit, perched on a twenty-litre barrel of microgel, the display on my weapon the only light. Not that I need it. I’ve been watching the internal security feeds aligned in a two by three grid of boxes along the left side of my peripheral vision, bright
against the darkness. It’s been three hours since the call went out to the owner of the unit that there’d been a break-in and nothing yet.

  I’m not worried. They’ll come.

  We’d found the source of Xiao’s skyn resupply in the Storage Hutt, a self-storage facility less than a kilometer away from the AV yard. At first I thought finding it would be would be impossible. I plugged the cypher’s bio/kin into SecNet and scoured all the local businesses and other public cameras in the area for any sign of the Xiao’s little girl cyphers and, as expected, came up empty. Eka’d been clearing Xiao’s tracks, there wouldn’t be any digital records, but the short travel time made the search radius so small we could canvas it on foot, go building to building with an image of the cyphers, knock on doors, talk face to face. Real police work, like cops used to do. It felt good to be talking to people instead of staring at a display, waiting for a red dot to appear.

  Still, we came up with nothing.

  So when that didn’t work, I called Agent Sòng, told her what I knew and what we were looking for. Six hours later Fate came back with an address just outside our search radius. The Storage Hutt: a three-storey block of rental units, open 24/7.

  Luckily for us, the Storage Hutt hadn’t completely automated, and still kept a night clerk on. He recognized the cyphers immediately. Said the two women came every Saturday night like clockwork. Access records showed another visit every Wednesday morning. Wednesday to drop stuff off, Saturday to load back up again—boxes, small drums of chemicals, lab equipment. They’d rented it for a full year, paid for in advance with a cashcard.

  Just like that, we had our suspects.

  The clerk thought they were maybe urban pharmers, using the unit to cook. Internal sensors never showed anything dangerous going on, so he let them be. He even showed me the closed-circuit security feed, the stuff that never made it to SecNet, the stuff Eka wouldn’t have been able to touch remotely.

  Two Chinese girls, similar enough to be twins. No question, it was them.