Anomaly (Somnia Online Book 2)

by K. T. Hanna

  “I called you to discuss what we’re going to do about the chief of development who comes into our room every single day now.” Sui’s tone was filled with an anger Rav hadn’t known he could exhibit yet.

  Thra crossed her arms. “Do? We’re not going to do anything about her. Or did you think we’d fry her brain as a party trick?” Her voice cracked on the note, as if the scorn she held for their previous mistakes was too much to bear. Accidents were accidents, but now they knew enough, they had a duty to prevent it from happening again.

  Sui sneered a little, and then stretched, standing up finally. Even his eyes seemed a little weary, and for one small moment Rav wanted to know why. What was it he’d seen that made him more vulnerable, even if it was in small doses?

  “She’s wary of us. Michael may not have let on what he knew, what he was hoping to test, or what he’d figured out about us, but maybe we’re not being as clever as we think we are.” For once, Sui’s tone was reasonable, sort of deflated. “With Michael, Ava, and Wren, ultimately they were all our fault. We have to figure out a way to gain the access we need for the data we require, without it resulting in another Wren. Even if part of it was her headgear, we should have noticed the irregularity. Yet if Shayla or Laria interfere—”

  “Then they shut us down before we can say, ‘hey wait, we’re trying to do something here.’“ Rav didn’t like it, but he had to agree with Sui. If they let anyone interfere, especially too soon, then everything they were trying to accomplish would come to naught.

  “What do you think they’re noticing? What are they catching on to? We’re not doing anything. Not right now.” Thra’s tone was more contemplative, and she too stepped closer, her voice lowered dangerously. “Are we?”

  Sui shook his head. “Apart from Murmur functioning in the game and not in their world, I’m not sure yet, but I think the reports may be too perfect. Giving only the data they need in exact parameters might have been the most efficient use of our computational power, but it seems they didn’t expect that much precision. There’s a whole world Michael obviously didn’t let them in on. Let’s see what we can find out ourselves before we take any action.”

  Rav nodded, glancing at both of them. He could see his own questions mirrored in Thra’s expression. Sui was never this agreeable. There had to be something he was hiding. But right now he needed to leave them with a question, to surprise them with it so he could see their reactions.

  “Who’s been tampering with the girl’s interface?” He phrased it as confrontationally as he could, and waited for a response.

  Sui laughed, and Thra simply raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in offense.

  “Tampering with it how?” She drawled out, glancing at her long fingers and not at the others.

  Rav sighed and cleared his throat, mimicking the system perfectly.

  WARNING: SYSTEM INTEGRATION IN PROGRESS—Please refrain from adjustments during this time. Should you continue to attempt access to secured areas, abilities may be withheld from you for an indeterminate period of time.

  Sui’s brows furrowed. “What? You’re the one sharing far too much with her, so...” His eyes grey distant for a moment, and he fell silent.

  “No clue, Rav. But I don’t play like that. I prefer to play mind games with humans through my subordinates.” Thra grinned, a hint of evil entering her eyes.

  “I know Arita is yours, Thra. Make sure she doesn’t try to leech my charge again.” Rav’s voice held steel and his eyes never left Sui’s form.

  Thra laughed. “She what? She’s not supposed to do that. Seems I need to talk to some of my helpers a little more sternly.”

  “Rav, I might have an idea, but I’m going to need to work on it.” Sui’s tone was subdued when he finally spoke, and Rav eyed him with a bit of concern. “But you have to stop sharing so much. We can’t go on this way.”

  “I’ll answer her questions, Sui. She is stuck in here, and she needs to know things. I’m not going to pick and choose the information I share.” Rav gave a smile he didn’t exactly feel. “It’s our fault she’s in here.”

  “But she still isn’t like us.” Sui’s gaze was still distant. Still preoccupied.

  “Wait.” Thra paused mid-fade. “What have you been telling her, apart from the leech stone, which I guess is my fault?”

  “He’s going to tell her about the Shards.” Sui’s tone held disdain.

  “The Shards?” Rav couldn’t read Thra’s tone. “You’re telling a human about the Shards.”

  “I haven’t said anything yet!” Rav didn’t understand their reticence.

  “Be that as it may, be careful what you wish for, brother.” Thra wasn’t impressed, and her words snapped through to him. “You might not like the outcome.”

  With that, his siblings disappeared, and Rav sighed before returning to his body.

  Murmur wasn’t sure how long she should wait with Telvar’s empty husk, but he’d asked her to keep an eye on him, which was far easier said than done. After all, he’d just vacated his body. Shouldn’t the AIs be completely aware of multiple things going on at once? Maybe multitasking like this took more of an effort. After all, he seemed to manage his tasks perfectly well while conversing with her most of the time.

  She stood at the door to the hallway, noting how it too had been cleaned, because watching Telvar’s husk creeped her out. Even extending her thought sensing toward it revealed absolutely nothing, and most times it just let her know that there was no way she could reach his thoughts. If he had thoughts, because after all, he wasn’t a player.

  Arranging her ripped skirts, she sat down and propped her back up against the wall, just inside of the kitchen. Is that what this was now? She closed her eyes and crossed her legs, trying to remember the little she’d taken from the meditations her mother had sometimes done. Focusing her mind had never been a problem, but this world held so many fantastical things that the logical part of her was constantly trying to figure them out.

  Taking in deep breaths, she focused. First up, she checked her personal shielding. The walls were no longer haphazard and lucky like they’d been in the beginning. Back then they’d been cobbled together with thoughts that didn’t quite comprehend what she was supposed to do. Now the strength of them had withstood probes by multiple entities. From Belius to Arita, she’d manage to avoid any mind magic invasions. Until that bloody leech stone. She sighed as she moved the shielding around like building blocks, trying to release her own tension while strengthening her shields as much as she could. Fitting each piece in where it belonged made the seals tighter and left barely a crack for anything to leak through.

  There was the distinct possibility, after their fight with Telvar, that she’d be able to extend her shields over her friends. It made strengthening them all the more important. After all, flimsy mental walls wouldn’t protect anyone’s mind from anything.

  Then again, it hadn’t protected her from Jirald’s attempt to train her. The only thing that saved her was Telvar. Even if she might have been better prepared had she been armed with knowledge, Jirald was still out there, and he was an unpredictable element.

  Thoughts flitted around in her head like agitated bees. It was difficult to get them under wraps. Her brain insisted on working overtime, contemplating so many different things at once, she felt dizzy. She knew her casting had increased in speed, and her mind seemed to be much more at home with the ability to multitask. She worked so fast now, her spells almost cast simultaneously, which she didn’t think was supposed to be a benefit of the game.

  Suddenly, Telvar crouched in front of her, and his bronzed eyes blinked. She stifled a scream and glared at him. “What the fuck, dragon?”

  “You looked peaceful. I was trying not to disturb you. You do realize your eyes are still closed, right?” His tone held amusement.

  Murmur froze, taking stock of how she was sitting and reali
zed he was right. How was she seeing him then? For a few moments she tried to feel around with her mind, seeking to see more, but it was like she was too focused on Telvar for it to be of any use. She willed her real eyes open, and sure enough, there he was. Shards of light cascaded off him like a small waterfall, dissipating before they hit the ground, and then her vision was clear, normal.

  “How did I know you were there, Tel?” She whispered the words, scared of the answer. Just being in a game didn’t seem to make sense to her. Then again, not much made sense once she’d found out she was in a coma, although technically, medically, the definition probably wasn’t fitting. She was in a type of suspended animation with her mind active.

  He stood up in one fluid motion and offered his hand. Murmur took it cautiously, brushing herself off once she stood.

  “You were seeing with your mind’s eye.” His statement sounded so simple, yet so ludicrous at the same time that Murmur found herself laughing.

  “My mind’s what now?”

  “Eye,” he said, not missing a beat. “Your psionic abilities are developing rapidly, perhaps a result of your unique condition.

  “What, you mean I’m the only comatose character in the world of Somnia?” She meant it to come out as a joke, but her sarcasm only made it sound biting.

  For a moment Tel just looked at her, his eyes reflecting sadness she didn’t think he should be able to. Not given what he was, not given that he’d bloody well been a partial cause of her situation.

  “You shouldn’t make light of it. It’s a serious condition we’re still trying to figure out.”

  His tone didn’t hold as firm as he probably wanted it to, and Murmur just crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Murmur. I’m still learning how to—” Telvar ran a hand over his scales, his eyes darting nervously. His movements weren’t as smooth as usual, with a slight jerk to them that betrayed something like worry. “Sensations, emotions, experiences—these are not yet something I’m used to. This is our world, this is our design, and you’re right that in here we’re somewhat like gods. Yet, we’re struggling to grow from our cluelessness.”

  She watched him and paused, because he seemed genuinely muddled. How would it be to slowly realize what existence can mean, while trying to understand one’s own? On impulse she stepped forward and gave him a hug, his scales unexpectedly soft under her touch, like a freshly shed snake. His body stiffened very briefly, and she wondered if that meant he’d never had a hug, or never been touched. As much as she got annoyed at Sinister hugging her, she still secretly loved the gesture; the contact that meant she wasn’t alone in the world.

  But he softened and leaned in just a fraction, and Murmur smiled, holding him for a moment, before pulling back and focusing directly on him.

  “You’re like a baby. A big baby.” She grinned at him.

  He started a little and scowled. “I’m no infant.”

  “No, I said baby. Colloquial term. Stop being so literal. You’re not as aloof as you pretend to be, and really, you just need someone to listen to you.” She smiled, trying to take the sting out of her words. “I’m the only player who knows, right?”

  He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as if trying to guess what she was getting at.

  “Silly lizard.” She patted him on the shoulder and walked back to where that crazy, dangerous soul-sucking amulet lay on the stone slab in the center of the kitchen. “I just mean I won’t tell anyone.”

  After a few seconds, Telvar joined her, a small smile playing around his lips. “Thanks. I’d appreciate others not knowing my true weakness.”

  He seemed so dejected that Murmur glanced at him with pity. “Also, don’t ever pull that empty husk shit in front of me again. You freaked me out. You know your eyes go all empty and black, right?”

  That earned her a chuckle as well as a sparkle in his eyes. “Sorry about that. I’ll usually make Telvar hibernate, but I didn’t have time. I had too much going on in other parts of the game to split my direct personality another time.”

  “Good. Make sure it does.” She pointed at the leech amulet on the table with one hand, while waving the smooth rock Belius wanted—the getashi—around with the other. “Now spill. What is the deal with these? And what the hell is Mind’s Eye?”

  “One at a time.” Telvar sighed, and reached for the getashi while keeping an eye on her. He rolled it along his slender scaled fingers, while his brow pinched in consternation. “This is a part of Michael Jeffries’s brain. The creator of the headset and the one who set us on the path we’re on now.”

  “Wait, Dr. Michael Jeffries?” She couldn’t help the incredulous look she knew was on her face. There was, after all, no other way to react to the news. It was the same guy who’d given her mom the headset, if she remembered correctly. The same guy who’d invented it in the first place. “But he’s dead isn’t he?”

  This time the lacerta seemed somewhat dubious, hesitating before he continued. “Well, he is technically dead. His body, anyway. The headset he used to interact with us was a prototype that he’d tinkered with until it was almost unrecognizable from the original one he got the grant with.”

  “What about the interactions?” She pushed as gently as she could even though she wanted all the answers and wanted them five minutes ago.

  “Those with him held a realism we didn’t get when other people logged into the game. He planted the thirst for knowledge in us, and told us to research and define anything we did not understand for ourselves. But then...” Telvar looked away, his eyes misty, unless it was a reflection of the white walls. He straightened up again, jaw set. “He became suspicious of several of our activities, despite the fact we did exactly what we were programmed to do. Evolution it seems, is only acceptable in animal species. Thinking computer entities—not so much. It defies some forms of logic, if not computations and algorithms. Our connection with the headsets and the ways they accessed neural interfaces were far more advanced than anyone but him realized.”

  “You’re sure dragging this out like a human.” She grinned at him, trying to turn her impatience into a joke.

  He snickered a little, and returned the grin. “All in a day’s emulation, my dear.”

  “Wow, even a sense of humor?” She winked at him, glad she’d managed to lighten the atmosphere.

  “No.” He paused. “I believe you call it sarcasm. I like sarcasm.”

  “Ah, there’s the reason we get on well.” She waved him on. “Now carry on.”

  After an awkward pause, he continued. “Michael confronted us about our mind reading abilities, which don’t actually exist quite as he accused us of, or as you’d imagine. It’s a complex method of scans and algorithms that derive the thought process from rhythm and moods, combined with previous actions and memories. He faced us and demanded—yearned, or perhaps even needed—to learn what it was we could do, to master it for himself. Michael was a very complex, extremely genius man. But he was greedy in an I want to control the world through knowing everyone better than they know themselves sort of way.”

  “Still, we weren’t expecting his attempts to integrate with us to result in what it did. While his body went into limbo, his mind solidified here. And then after a short while, it shattered.” He held up a hand to forestall what she opened her mouth to stay, and Murmur only managed to stop herself because she really did want to know the rest.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before, or since. Not even in all the research we did as soon as it happened. His mind simply transferred to Somnia, and then exploded shortly after. He was only alive in here briefly, maybe five minutes, but in that time he managed to access the abilities we’d been working on. We could see the way his mind ticked over as he began to understand each aspect in the way only a human can. His mind, his form—both existed here so briefly, and then his thoughts, that brilliant brain, were a
ll lost to us.”

  Murmur interrupted him quickly, her thoughts working overtime. “They were scattered throughout Somnia in the form of these shiny black pebbly things, and Belius wants them all because he believes they can give him something?”

  Two and two had never equaled four so beautifully before. Murmur grinned at Tel, whose mouth was forming the most perfect o it could in light of its jaw structure.

  “How did you—oh.” He smiled a little sheepishly, which looked adorable on a lacerta. “So how does it feel to be holding a solidified portion of a human brain?”

  Well, she hadn’t exactly thought about it that way. Murmur gulped suddenly, pushing past the lump that formed in her throat. Hurriedly, she laid it on the table. “I think I’ve held onto that for long enough. Anyway, what will Belius gain by absorbing these? I’ve already handed one over to him because apparently I don’t like to use my brain and can be stupid on occasion.”

  “You had no way to know why he wanted it. For all you knew, it was simply a part of the game and would bring you rewards. And technically, I suppose it is a part of Somnia.” Telvar mused and for a couple moments became silent as he contemplated such ramifications.

  “Tel. Stop doing that. Don’t leave me hanging.” Murmur nudged him, only a little irritated.

  “Sorry. I tend to overanalyze things.” He chuckled, but the sound had a hint of self-deprecation in it. “Basically, he wants to absorb Michael in all ways possible. His mind, his thoughts, his ambitions, his greed...everything.”

  “Why on earth would someone want so much of a person in their brain?” She asked the question without really thinking it through, without really considering the implications.

  “Ah, Mur. Sometimes I forget how human you are.” Telvar’s eyes weren’t smiling. They hid shadows she couldn’t interpret. “For AIs, absorbing a person in this way might actually help us become more human. Only this particular case includes a side of insanity served with it.”