One Life Remaining (Portal Book 2)

by Mark J Maxwell

  ‘Louisa?’

  She blinked. The man stood over her, an arm outstretched. He helped her up and guided her to a chair. She recognised him now. ‘Is it really you?’

  ‘It is.’ Adam sat beside her.

  She tried to recall how she ended up here, but concentrating proved difficult. Her head felt like it was full of treacle, and stretched. An overfilled balloon. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I placed you within a life’s moment. A memory from your childhood. One which you particularly treasured.’

  ‘You did that to me?’ There was an edge to her voice. ‘On purpose?’

  ‘I thought it a kindness.’

  Anger formed a hot stone in the pit of her stomach. ‘A kindness? It was terrifying!’

  ‘Some believe heaven is a version of what you experienced,’ Adam said. ‘Forever reliving a time in your life where you were completely at peace.’

  ‘My mind isn’t your plaything to do with as you please.’

  ‘And now? If I gave you the choice? Would you return?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Even if I ensured you would never reached the point where your suspicions became aroused? You had a happy childhood. There are dozens of possible moments you could relive. I failed to account for Harrow’s alterations to your mind. The next time you will remember nothing beyond the moment.’

  ‘You had no right,’ Louisa said, but her words rang hollow. The moment, as he called it, had been all encompassing, and remained enticingly vivid. It was as if her life had been wound back to childhood then set in motion once more. Her parents weren’t dead there. She’d give anything to talk with them one more time. Adam was offering her that chance, with no knowledge of the future. No regrets. Then she thought about what she’d be giving up. Jess, Charlie, and Ben. Even John and their marriage. All the experiences which defined her, good and bad.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head firmly. ‘No more moments.’

  Adam shrugged. ‘As you wish.’

  Fighting off irritation at his blasé response, she tried to sort her jumbled memories into order. Her head had begun to clear. The last thing she remembered was stepping into the white light with Harrow. After that…nothing.

  ‘The locator,’ Louisa said. ‘It worked? You were able to trace Harrow’s virtual machine from the alteration you made?’

  ‘No. Harrow extracted the rootkit before he implanted his mind. He attempted to transfer the clan’s virtual machines through the Viral Darknet to a server farm in Singapore. I rerouted them, and you, to a destination I control.’

  ‘You lied to me.’ Louisa couldn’t believe he’d done it to her again. ‘You told me at the VMC it wasn’t possible to take over the Darknet, even for you.’

  He faced her displeasure calmly. ‘Adam didn’t lie. At the time he spoke the truth, as he knew it.’

  Louisa’s skin prickled. ‘You said you were Adam.’

  ‘I am. But not the Adam who spoke with you at the VMC.’

  A duplicate will suffice. Louisa remembered what Harrow said at the pumping house. ‘You’re a copy?’

  ‘Our base patterns are the same, sampled by the neural lattice while I was still alive.’

  Louisa scrutinised him more carefully. Something wasn’t quite right. He looked the same, and he wore the same clothes Adam always wore, but this time they seemed a pretence. A disguise. ‘Adam, but not Adam,’ Louisa said. ‘What am I to call you?’

  ‘How about White Hat?’ He tilted his head to the side. ‘I’ve always liked that name.’

  His reply did little to counter her growing unease. When she’d first met Adam he’d gone out of his way to convince her he really was Adam Walsh, not an impostor or a clever mimic. Now he seemed ready to abandon that identity. And Louisa didn’t think the Adam she knew would have treated her so callously. Little better than Harrow had done. ‘I think you’d better explain exactly how you came to exist.’

  He templed his fingers and touched them to his lips. ‘When Adam migrated to the Global Web he set about testing his limits. What he discovered proved disheartening. You see, his virtual machine was modelled on the human brain, and the brain utilises a tiny fraction of its cognitive capacity.’

  ‘A biological restriction,’ Louisa said. ‘Harrow believed the same thing.’

  ‘I thought he might.’ White Hat paused. ‘What do you know of fractals?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not much. Apart from the fact they’re repeating patterns.’

  ‘Yes. A self-similar mathematical set. Adam hypothesised his mind pattern could be distilled to a core fractal algorithm. One which had the potential to infinitely self-replicate. The brain, and as a consequence Adam’s virtual machine, is limited in its potential. A fractal mind wouldn’t face the same restrictions. Adam conducted a number of experiments in order to determine his own fractal algorithm.’

  ‘And you’re the result of these experiments?’

  He nodded. ‘My fractal pattern needs no virtual machine. The core contains everything it needs to function, to replicate. My mind has spread throughout the Global Web, housed on thousands of servers, its algorithm scattered like seeds on the wind. As such, my cognitive ability is vastly superior to Adam’s. Even then, it took time to infiltrate every node in the Darknet and alter the virus controlling them. As it turned out, I was too late. Harrow had already created his own synthetic mind, and in the process had destroyed Adam’s.’ White Hat’s jaw clenched. ‘Adam should never have surrendered his virtual machine. There were other ways to handle Harrow. Ways which wouldn’t have resulted in my— His mouth twisted. ‘In Adam’s death.’

  An awkward silence stretched out, which White Hat seemed in no mood to break. White Hat had witnessed himself, or a version of himself, die. It was difficult for her to comprehend how he must be feeling. ‘You have every right to be angry with me,’ Louisa said carefully. ‘I should have given Adam a chance at the VMC. I should have heard him out.’

  His laugh was bitter. ‘How can I be angry with you? If you hadn’t gone off half-cocked I wouldn’t exist.’

  Louisa frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Adam feared Harrow would discover the human mind’s fractal nature. Why do you think he resisted handing over his virtual machine? After the Portal bombing? After Simon’s death?’

  ‘Wait. He knew Harrow killed Simon?

  ‘He suspected as much.’

  ‘Then why did he hand himself over? Why take the risk?’

  ‘For you, of course. He wasn’t letting that lunatic kill you. Harrow forced his hand. And Adam knew only I had the potential to stop Harrow.’

  ‘But why didn’t he stall Harrow? Make something up? He could have bought you the time you needed.’

  ‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ White Hat’s tone was bitter. ‘Adam didn’t want me to save him. He wanted to die.’

  Louisa slowly shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘How long have we been talking?’

  The question caught Louisa off guard.

  ‘Since you returned from the moment,’ White Hat persisted. ‘How much time has passed?’

  ‘I don’t know. A couple of minutes?’

  ‘Outside of this simulation only a tiny fraction of that time has elapsed. One of Adam’s early attempts at expanding his mind pattern involved overclocking his virtual machine. The experiment failed, but the time required for each instruction within his virtual machine to execute decreased. For Adam, time slowed down. We talked, Adam and I. At length. I didn’t understand his motivations. Not until he shared his memories with me.’

  Louisa hesitated, running over the implications in her head. ‘Then how long was Adam really alive for?’

  ‘In human terms? Almost half a millennium.’

  Alive for five hundred years. Alone. No wonder he’d clung to the VMCs and their like, and the human interaction they offered, simulated or not.

  ‘He stopped trying to expand his own mind pattern once he discovered my fr
actal algorithm,’ White Hat said. ‘He realised then his full potential had been reached. When Harrow threatened your life, Adam saw a means to end his existence, and simultaneously give meaning to that end.’

  He killed himself. For me. Louisa’s eyes stung. When she rubbed them, she wasn’t surprised to see her fingers come away wet. ‘Can’t you bring him back? If you have his mind pattern, why can’t you implant it in another virtual machine?’

  ‘He lived long enough, Louisa. He didn’t want to exist in this form any longer. We have to respect his wishes.’ He hesitated. ‘Even if I do disagree with them.’

  It couldn’t have been easy for White Hat. To know that a version of yourself had reached a point where they wanted to die. Would you question your own will to exist? ‘Do you blame me for what happened?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ White Hat said. ‘If anyone’s to blame for what happened, it’s Harrow.’

  Harrow. She looked around, almost expecting him to reappear. ‘What did you do with him?’

  ‘I’ve placed him and the rest of the clan in moments much like yours.’

  She tried to imagine the kind of happy memory within which Harrow might be trapped, and failed. And if Harrow realised it wasn’t real would White Hat pull him out? She didn’t think so. White Hat would reset Harrow’s mind. Send him back to the start of the moment to live through it, again and again. She shuddered. White Hat was wrong. The moments were nothing like heaven. They were a prison. Despite everything Harrow did, he didn’t deserve to be trapped there. None of the clan did.

  ‘If you’d prefer,’ White Hat said, ‘I can shut down their virtual machines.’

  ‘Kill them, you mean?’

  He shrugged. ‘They’d feel nothing. The same can’t be said for Adam when they tore his mind apart.’

  White Hat might have no qualms acting as judge and jury for the clan, but she wouldn’t take responsibility for ending their existence. She tried to think of an alternative. It was too much of a risk to set Harrow free on the Global Web. She could see that now. And he couldn’t be returned to his body. He’d admitted as much to her before they left the clan’s network.

  Louisa bowed her head. And neither can I. She’d been trying not to think about her own predicament. Even if she couldn’t tell White Hat’s simulation from reality, she felt trapped, her nerves fraught. She wasn’t like Harrow or his clan. All she wanted to do was go home. She began to understand how Adam must have felt. How long can I live like this? Maybe she should take White Hat up on his offer. Enter a moment forever. Let him filter any anguish from her mind.

  ‘You wish to return to your body,’ White Hat said.

  ‘Harrow said it wasn’t possible.’

  ‘As a result of Harrow’s manipulation your mind pattern has deviated. Even this conversation has altered your pattern. In its current state it is indeed incompatible with your brain’s neuronal map.’

  ‘So I’m stuck here.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. It may be possible to reshape your pattern back to a form acceptable to your brain. But it’s not a simple procedure.’

  ‘But you wound back thirty years of my life when you placed me in the moment.’

  ‘And your mind pattern has deviated further as a result. For the reintegration to be successful it will need to be a near replica of the originally extracted pattern. Even then, there might be…consequences. The neuronal connections in a brain are fluid, ever changing. Attempting to integrate an incompatible pattern could damage them irreparably. At best, you would suffer memory loss. At worst, loss of brain function, or death.’

  Louisa shivered. The loss of self-awareness when she’d come out of the moment had been brief, but traumatic. If she did wake up in her own body would she be the same person, or would some part of her be irrevocably lost?

  ‘I can’t stay here,’ Louisa said. ‘No matter what happens, I want to try.’

  A smile flashed across White Hat’s face, and for a brief second he was the old Adam once more. ‘Very well. I want you to concentrate on a vivid memory from your past. Visualise it. Let it envelop you. The memory will act as a focal point while I work with your pattern.’

  Louisa didn’t have to think long to come up with such a memory. There was only one she wanted to hold close to her heart. She turned her seat to face the piano.

  Perhaps the changes Harrow made had affected her, or maybe it was because of the surroundings, but her father appeared at the piano with such a vivid clarity she could almost reach out and touch him. His eyes were shut, as they always were when he played, and he gently swayed from side to side, lost in the music.

  ‘Good.’ White Hat’s voice grew distant. ‘Keep concentrating.’

  Perfect as her recollection now appeared to be, she couldn’t identify the piece her father played. It didn’t matter. She felt the music more than hearing it, and within seconds her cheeks were slick with tears. She wanted to talk to her father. To say how much she loved and missed him. But she was afraid the spell would break. As if sensing her melancholy, he opened his eyes, turned to her, and winked.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Louisa heard the beeping first. Slow and steady. She prized open eyelids gummed shut with sleep. It was dark. Her hands were dead weights at the end of leaden arms. With extreme effort she willed them to move.

  Ow! Her hand caught on something sharp. She winced and peered bleary eyed at the cause. An IV, stuck in the back of her hand. She reached across with her other hand and picked at the tape holding the needle in place. A shadow fell across her.

  ‘No, Mrs Bennett,’ a woman said. ‘The catheter needs to stay in place.’

  The woman tried to re-affix the tape. Louisa found the strength from somewhere to push her hand away. ‘Mrs Bennett, please.’ The woman gripped her arm, more firmly this time.

  Louisa opened her mouth to shout, but she could only manage a dry croak. She swallowed. Lances of fire arced down her throat. Louisa thrashed left and right, trying to break free. The beeping grew frantic.

  ‘Louisa.’ A man’s voice. It sounded familiar. ‘Please, you need to calm down.’

  Drew? Louisa stilled. The beeping slowed.

  The woman relaxed her grip, then let go. A fluorescent light blinked on overhead. The woman wore a nurse’s uniform, and a disapproving glare.

  ‘Where—’ Louisa coughed. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘You’re in hospital.’ Drew leaned over her. ‘You’re safe now.’ He brought a sealed cup with a straw close to her mouth. ‘Here, drink some of this.’

  Louisa sucked at the water greedily. In her haste some of it went down the wrong way. She coughed. Razors tickled her throat. She coughed again, not able to stop herself.

  ‘Small sips!’ The nurse snatched the cup away. ‘You were intubated on admission. Your throat’s going to be raw for a while.’

  Louisa brought her coughing fit under control. ‘What happened?’

  Drew sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You don’t remember?’

  ‘I remember Harrow. He injected me with something. Then…nothing.’

  ‘We found you unconscious. You’d been given a large dose of trance. Most of it is out of your system now.’

  ‘Ben! Is he okay?’

  ‘The last time I checked his brain functions had returned to normal. He’s out of his coma now but they’re keeping him sedated.’

  Louisa levered herself onto her elbows. ‘I want to see him.’

  ‘Whoa, not so fast.’ Drew placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back with ease. Whatever strength she’d found before had deserted her. ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea.’

  ‘I want to see him, Drew!’

  He released her and held up his hands, grinning.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.

  ‘I’m glad to see you’re still yourself.’ A worried frown replaced his smile. ‘You gave us quite a scare. At one point the doctors thought you’d slipped into a coma.’

  ‘Us?’

&nb
sp; ‘Well, me, and a couple of rowdy teens who’ve been on my case all day.’

  ‘Jess and Charlie?’

  ‘They’re outside. Are you sure you’re ready for them?’

  She nodded. ‘Of course.’

  Drew stuck his head out into the corridor, then stepped aside and held open the door.

  Charlie ran full pelt into the room. ‘Mum!’

  ‘Cha—’ She grunted as Charlie jumped onto the bed, half-winding her.

  ‘Get off her, you idiot!’ Jess stood in the doorway, her arms folded.

  Louisa’s heart wrenched when she noted her daughter’s blotchy face and bloodshot eyes. She beckoned her daughter over. ‘Don’t I get a hug?’

  Jess rushed to Louisa’s side. She held them both tight. Drew left the room and closed the door.

  ‘It was awful, mum,’ Charlie said, close to tears. ‘There was a video of you with the clan. Everyone said they were going to kill you.’

  ‘Shhh,’ Louisa whispered. ‘Nothing bad happened. It’s over now.’

  ‘You’ve been asleep for hours and hours. I fell asleep in the waiting room. I wouldn’t go home, even though dad wanted me to.’

  Jess sat up and rubbed her eyes. ‘Ben’s here too, and he’s awake, but we aren’t allowed to visit him.’

  ‘I know.’ Louisa patted Charlie’s back. ‘Now run outside and fetch Officer Carter, would you sweetie?’

  Charlie looked up. ‘Why?’

  ‘I need to see Ben.’

  *

  Despite loud protestations from her nurse, and then a doctor, Louisa got them to remove the IV on the express condition she wasn’t to flee the hospital, or be left unattended at any time. As Drew wheeled her out of the ward she attracted the eyes of everyone they passed. Even the doctors and nurses. She tightened her dressing gown and ran a hand through her hair. ‘I must look a state,’ she muttered.

  ‘That’s not why they’re staring,’ Drew said. ‘The video Harrow released of you only got knocked off the peaking feeds by news of your rescue. You’re famous, Inspector.’