by KB Shaw
“Yeah, like 45-East’s meeting with a nude Napoleon,” said Ian.
“That was a whole new spin on ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes,’” said Raul. Everyone laughed at that, including Socrates Jones. Of course, Becky giggled.
“The glitches only seem to affect the IHT-generated characters,” Mr. S went on to explain. “Anyway, that is why we will be closing down the Academy simulations over the holiday break.”
A general chorus of moans permeated the hallway. Mr. S held up his hands in an effort to silence the class. “Okay, settle down. The technicians need to check all the existing programs thoroughly, and they want to concentrate on the new simulations for next semester’s studies.”
“What new simulations?” asked Rosa.
“Next semester we’re going to concentrate on the solar system.”
“Space!” said Andrew, who was an unabashed science nut.
“That is correct, Mr. Martin.” Socrates rubbed his hands together as he spoke. “Okay, let’s get back to today’s class. Follow me upstairs and we’ll begin in Scrooge’s bedroom.”
Mr. S proceeded up the steps. Or at least his head did! When he heard the gasps of his students behind him, he stopped and turned to face them. “What is the matter now…” he began, but he was shocked into silence when he saw his headless body standing four steps below.
Consuela’s mouth gaped open. Becky Weingold flattened herself against the wall. She wasn’t giggling.
“Is this part of the ‘Christmas Carol’ simulation?” asked Cameron. “Are you playing one of the Christmas ghosts?”
The head of Socrates Jones spoke as it glided down the stairs to reposition itself atop his body. “No, I assure you, it is not part of the simulation.”
Ian McKierny was awestruck. “Yeah, but it’s a neat trick all the same.”
Rosa looked puzzled. “You said the glitches only affected IHT-generated characters.”
Socrates Jones responded with a crooked little smile and a raised eyebrow.
“No!” said Consuela. “I can’t believe it! Mr. S—you’re an AI!”
• • •
TWO DAYS after Christmas, Meagan Fletcher sat in her New York apartment, talking to Jason.
“Do you really have to fly to Oslo again?” Jason’s upgraded voice sounded sullen. “Can’t this be done in an IHT conference?”
“Some of what we need to discuss is too sensitive to talk about on even the most secure com channel. Some of it, Jason, is between just Mr. Villfarelse and myself.”
Back in September, Jason had been removed from the WBN building and impounded in a secure place until his ownership was settled in court. It was now the end of December, and he had only recently been installed in the study of Meagan’s new apartment.
“There are things you have not told me. Why haven’t you told me who this boy wonder is? You know, don’t you?”
“Yes, Jason, I do. But a lot has happened since you were… uh…”
“Shut down.” His comment had an edge to it.
“Yes, shut down,” she said apologetically. “Was it hard on you? I mean, being shut down for so long?”
“Was it hard on me? Were the four months I was shut down hard on me?” He scrutinized the expression on Meagan’s face. “No, not at all.” His voice was cold and flat. “When a multiCom is shut down, it is shut down. To me, the moment I was turned off was immediately followed by the moment I was powered up again. I had no time to be lonely or bored, or to dwell on my predicament.”
“Oh.” Meagan didn’t know how to react.
“What is hard is now.” Jason’s inflections crackled with emotion. “It is hard knowing that I missed four months of my… my life.”
“But you’re able to catch up on everything. You have access to all the net archives.”
“That is true, Meagan. I am now aware of all that has happened during my blackout. But I didn’t get to experience those four months. There is a difference between knowing something happened and experiencing it, you know.”
A strained silence overwhelmed the room. “Within days of your return from Oslo, I was shut down. Now within days of being turned on again, you are leaving.”
There was a buzz at the door. “Ms. Fletcher,” a voice called from the hall, “your car is here.”
“It’s business,” said Meagan. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back on January 5th. Then I’ll give you so much work you won’t be able to wait until I go away again. Okay?””
“Okay,” said Jason.
“Blinds closed while I’m gone?”
“Yes, please.”
Meagan pulled the curtains closed, then shut the office door behind her as she left, shrouding the room in a mid-day dusk. Her muffled conversation with the doorman could be heard after she opened the apartment door. This was followed by the sound of the door closing. Finally, the mechanical click of the door lock punctuated her departure. The rooms fell silent.
From the darkest recess of the office, a shadowy figure moved forward. It was a vague, almost transparent form, forged from the darkness itself. As it glided toward the desk, the nebulous shape resolved itself into an almost human form.
It moved behind the desk and reached out tentatively with what could best be described as an arm. When the end of the arm touched the back of a chair, the chair moved. The arm withdrew in surprise, then touched the chair again, this time more confidently. The chair gave way to the shadow’s touch, rolling back from the desk. Fingers budded from the stubby ends of the featureless arms, forming hands of a sort. The phantom seated itself, and began to probe the contents of Meagan’s desk.
Chapter 38:
Plans
EVEN THOUGH the Academy’s IHT simulations had been shut down, almost all the students kept in touch over their multiComs. Speculation ran rampant on whether or not all the Academy faculty members were IHT-generated personalities. Some of the more mathematically inclined students were setting odds on which faculty members were real and which weren’t.
Cameron, Rosa, Sam, and Vee were discussing the rumors. It was three days before the new year.
“Remember the reporter from WBN? You know, the one who interviewed Cameron and Rosa,” said Vee.
“Meagan Fletcher,” said Cameron.
“Yeah, she works for GundTech now, doesn’t she?” asked Rosa.
Sam confirmed Rosa’s comment.
“Remember what she said about sorting truth from rumor?” asked Vee. “What if we collected all the reports and rumors about the glitches and bugs in the simulations?”
Sam caught on to Vee’s idea. “That is brilliant, Vee. We collect all the data in one spot and analyze it.”
“Exactly,” said Vee.
Rosa expanded on the idea. “We’ll ask all the students to submit every error they can personally remember and have them rank the reports on how clearly they remember the incident.”
“Vee and I will search the news archives for any mention of problems in the public IHT simulations,” said Sam.
Vee added, “And we will attempt to access GundTech’s monitor logs for confirmation.”
“I guess I know what we’ll be doing for the next few weeks,” said Cameron.
• • •
THE MEETING in Oslo had just been adjourned and Meagan now understood the full extent of the problems cropping up in the IHT simulations. Gus was also informed that Professor Ling’s project had experienced a single “outbound anomaly,” but was on schedule. Meagan, Gwen, and Gus remained seated at the conference room table as the others filtered out.
“The glitches aren’t too serious, are they?”” Meagan directed the comment to Gus. “Bugs are to be expected in new programs, right?” She picked up the bug report from the table and started to scan down the list of glitches. “These are mostly internal Academy simulations, that’s good. And, thankfully, problems with the public simulations were limited to programs shutting down because there were too many users.”
“That’s a problem w
e can solve with participation limits,” said Gwen. She gave Gus a probing look. “What’s this project you have Ling working on? What’s an outbound anomaly?”
“I might’ve found something…” interrupted Meagan. “That boy/girl team from the U.S. were involved in every incident. Did you notice that? Maybe something’s wrong with one of their IHT units…”
Gus remained silent, as if he hadn’t heard Gwen’s questions or Meagan’s observation. He looked forlorn. His large frame was hunched forward, elbows resting on the table, his head resting in his hands. He was massaging his temples with his fingers. Slowly, his gaze drifted in Meagan’s direction. “What about COMFORT?”
Meagan shot a furtive glance in Gwen’s direction. She could see a trace of anger in Gwen’s eyes. Or was it concern? Gwen was obviously not accustomed to having her questions ignored by her boss.
“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” Meagan responded in a tone meant to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the room. “First, the good news. COMFORT has stopped its heavy-handed media campaign against technology. Well, they really didn’t have much choice in the matter, since most respectable media outlets refused to run their ads.”
“That is good news,” said Gwen. “Isn’t it, Gus?” Her eyes were trying to be bright, her mouth was forced into a smile, and her voice searched for soothing tones.
“And the bad news?” asked Gus.
Gwen’s strained expression collapsed. Again she had been ignored.
“The bad news is, my sources say this Calthern fellow, the Swiss guy who finances the committee, may try to shut down the Academy.”
Gwen was staggered by the news. “What? How?”
“A friend at WBN said she saw a presentation of a so-called documentary Calthern produced. It’s pretty nasty stuff. He says the Academy is an attempt to brainwash the children of the world. He’s trying to fan the flames of suspicion and fear of AI. My friend said Calthern’s attack ads and pseudo-documentary programs use images of the Nazi youth movement of the 1930s and 40s.”
“They won’t let him… I mean…” Gwen was almost in shock.
Gus sat silently as Meagan continued. “WBN all but bodily threw Calthern’s agent from the building, and I suspect all the legitimate media will do the same.” She saw Gwen breathe a sigh of relief. “But don’t get too complacent. I’ve done some research into this guy. He’s almost as hard to track as you, Gus—very secretive.
“He initially made his money—a lot of money—during the original tech boom in the 1990s. The guy had an impeccable sense of the market’s rhythms. He knew what and when to buy and sell. What this means is, he has deep pockets—very deep pockets! He’ll probably just lease a comNet channel and broadcast the videos twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
Gwen was livid. “Can’t we stop him from leasing a channel? For God’s sake, we practically own the comNet.”
“Yes, you do practically own the comNet. You could bring to bear all the awesome force of this corporation on any service provider who might lease a channel to COMFORT. But there’s the little issue of freedom of speech,” said Meagan. “It was GundTech’s, or should I say Gus’s, high ideals that brought me here. If Gundtech attempts any heavy-handed tactics or willfully violates anyone’s rights, it will alienate the public—and I will walk away from this without a second thought.” The two women glared at each other.
“Thank you, Gwen,” Gus said somberly. “You can go now.”
Gewn was taken aback by the abrupt dismissal. “You don’t want me to stay?”
“No. Thanks. I want to talk to Meagan privately for a …moment.”
Gwen rose brusquely and shot a penetrating look at Meagan Fletcher. She then shifted her gaze to the man sitting across the table. Her face softened, and her eyes glistened with moisture as she saw him staring blankly into his now clasped hands. “I will see you tomorrow, then,” she said softly before turning to leave.
When the door closed behind Gwen Johanssen, Meagan asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Lots of things… nothing… I don’t know.”
“Talk to me, Gus.”
He sat silent.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“I’m trusting you with my life, Meagan. But this is personal.”
“Is it Gwen? Is Gwen in love with you? Do you think she is jealous? Of me? Of our relationship?”
Gus shook his head, but his words contradicted his gesture, “Well, yes. She does love me.” He withdrew one of his hands and placed it on top of Meagan’s, looking sadly into her eyes.
“This is embarrassingly self-centered and selfish of me. My world… MY world is about to change.” Meagan knew now what was weighing so heavily upon this man. “I know I planned to reveal my true self to you so you could inform the world in April, but…” He withdrew his hands, pushed himself back from the table, and stood, looking down at Meagan.
“You’re not going to back away from your promise, are you?” It was more than professional pride that prompted Meagan’s question.
“No, Meagan. I’d never do that. In fact, I want to tell you—I need to tell you everything now. Someone has been trying to hack into GundTech’s core files, trying to identify me.”
“Has the phantom been back?”
“Not like before, but I think, yes. I mean there is definitely a hacker, and maybe it’s the phantom, but maybe it’s not. No matter, someone clever enough to get as far as you did last summer, plus knowledgeable enough to cover his or her tracks, is trying to find me out. And I don’t think some of the mishaps in the Academy simulations are accidental or sloppy programming. And you’re right, those two Americans seem to be at the center of the mishaps.”
“Costas and Rush—they’re pretty sharp kids.”
“And curious,” said Gus.
“Didn’t the network manager say they were trying to access the simulation monitoring reports? Do you think…”
“It’s not them. I assure you.”
“How can you be sure?”
Gus’s spirits seemed to pick up slightly. “To be honest, I’ve been watching them quite closely.”
Meagan’s reporter’s instinct was piqued. “You do think they’re up to something then? Something else?”
“Quite the opposite. I’m impressed with them. In fact, I instructed Johann to give them access to the monitoring files. Maybe their open minds will see something we missed.”
He became somewhat wistful as his thoughts were momentarily diverted. “I’m working on something new, you see. Something with Ling in England…” he trailed off as something dark descended upon his thoughts. “No. The two kids are his target. He seems to know something about them and is targeting their simulations.”
“Who’s targeting them? The phantom? What does he seem to know?”
Gus rambled on without answering. “And Ling reported an outbound anomaly. What if that’s him, too? My God! He’s gotten behind our firewalls and is in our private network.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could this Calthern guy be behind it? He made his money in the tech industry. He would know people who could hack in. Hell, he could buy an army of people to try to break in.”
“Maybe. Maybe not…”
“Who else would want to do this to you? Who’s close enough and has the working knowledge to hack your system?” Gus shrugged in frustration as Meagan mulled the questions over in her mind. “No one here needs to pry, do they? Surely the management team knows who you are.”
“They only know me as the person my family helped me create: Gus Villfarelse. To them, I’m just the man who runs the company, the man through whom the ‘boy wonder,’ as you call him, funnels his thoughts. I’m just an illusion.”
“Gwen!” said Meagan. “Gwen Johanssen!” For the first time that day, Gus smiled. He walked around the table, seated himself next to Meagan, and took her delicate hand i
n his. “No, it’s not Gwen.”
“You said she loved you. You saw how she reacted when you asked her to leave.”
“You need to know one thing about Gwen to understand her.”
“And what’s that?”
“She’s my sister—Gwen is my twin sister.”
Chapter 39:
Star of Calcutta
THE SEMESTER BREAK swiftly came to an end. Rosa and Cameron gained access to the GundTech monitoring reports, which they used to verify reports from their fellow students. Vee and Sam carefully analyzed all the collected data and could not find anything unusual or suspicious other than the embarrassing fact that their own simulations seemed to have caused all the problems.
Rosa stared at the error report. “¡Mierda!”
“Ditto,” said Cameron. “I didn’t realize we sucked this bad.”
“Suck isn’t the word for it. ¡Mierda! ¡Mierda! ¡Mierda! We need to be more careful.”
“¡Mierda!” said Cameron, finally succumbing to his frustration.
• • •
WITH THE START of the new semester, the students’ imaginations were captured by the new simulations, which were literally out of this world. Rosa’s birthday came and went, and the spring equinox was quickly approaching. It was mid-March when something peculiar happened.
“Emer…cy …gency!” The multiCom speaker crackled with static. “Have los… …er… Only …ergen… …adio …upport sys… working…”
Captain Cameron Rush of the Solar Rescue Patrol turned to Sparks, the radioman. “Someone’s in trouble, Sparks. Lock in on their signal.”
No one was better than Corporal Sparks when it came to electronics. Sparks turned dials and typed complex codes into the multiCom. “Signal locked, sir.”
“Emergency! Emergency! We have lost main power. Only emergency radio working. Help us. Does anyone hear? Repeat. Emergency! Emergency! We have lost main power. Only emergency radio and life support systems working. Help us,” came a distant female voice.