by Cosimo Yap
As a safety precaution, we are required to deactivate all implants, the Administrator sent. Please hold still.
Wait, what? Alan asked.
Remember, act like I don’t exist, Lambda sent.
Eve sent, Try not to do anything too stupid.
The Administrator replied, The Chief Administrators’ safety is of utmost importance. Do not worry, Traveler, pain and disorientation should be within tolerable levels. All implants will be reactivated and items returned when you depart the inner sanctum.
There was a flash of light as a shock ran through Alan’s nervous system. He involuntarily shivered for half a minute. The Administrator removed Alan’s armor and weapons, but he hardly noticed, as a haze had filled his mind. Thoughts were slower, denser. The air felt like molasses, then there was no air, and then the elevator opened.
Chapter 14
Alan found Chief Administrator 170 sitting at a desk.
“So, you’ve made it this far,” Chief Administrator 170 said. He waved a robotic hand. A dozen message windows vanished, though one screen in the corner stayed open.
Chief Administrator 170 stood, not on legs, but on a series of mechanical appendages that withdrew from the table. The Chief Administrator’s face was half robotic visage, half Neanderthal, but with his organic eyes too far apart. The outline of a closed, bionic eye could faintly be seen on his forehead.
“Your people have a saying,” the Administrator said. “Too many sayings, really, with nothing new or noteworthy. They say that control is an illusion. But that is a falsehood uttered by fools without sufficient technology. A dumb, shortsighted remark that reveals your race’s failure to see the real enemy. To say that control is an illusion is to admit defeat. You should instead be asking who or what is in control, and let me give you a hint: it is not you or me.
“You have pushed past the required boundaries, thus I am forced to provide these quests to become a Major Player and to reach Ascendance. You will not succeed in this instance, thus I advise you not to try.”
Two new quests appeared:
Major Player:
There are multiple pathways to greatness.
Option 1: Reach level 5000.
Option 2: Control a zone, faction, or government with a sum of a million levels or greater for a year. The average level of the players must be a thousand or higher. Alternatively, control a zone, faction, or government with a sum of ten million levels or greater for a year. The average level of the players must be a hundred or higher.
Option 3: Achieve a net worth of 10 billion credits or greater.
Option 4: Complete a beta-ranked quest or higher.
Option 5: Eliminate a Major Threat.
Reward: Reduced player limitations. Increased longevity. Permission to grant up to 100 people the ability to reproduce and/or join the Game. Control of a rank D resource in real life.
Time Limit: Unlimited.
Note: All promotions to Major Player are subject to Administrator discretion.
Ascendance:
Reach level 100,000, become a Major Player, and take control of Khersath. Complete the Trial.
Reward: Influence. Information. Immortality.
Time Limit: Until permanent deletion.
Threat Level: Alpha
Note: Allies may assist with this quest, but rewards will be significantly diminished. Subordinates may assist with this quest, but rewards will be slightly diminished.
Alan opened his mouth to ask what Ascendance was, but the Chief Administrator barreled on.
“Khersath is a city of over two trillion. You would need just as many or more devoted followers to even begin to consider Ascendance. And even then, you would fail. It is only through luck and goodwill that you have made it this far. If you attempt to continue that path your failure is guaranteed, and I do not state absolutes lightly.”
Alan’s vision readjusted to account for the disabled implant. He stood within the cube atop the pyramid-like Administrative Center, up in the stratosphere. The view was breathtaking, with the four quadrants of Khersath visible. The massive energy shield covering the military quarter was now a bright purple, the entrance gate shut tight. Many smaller blue bubbles covered the various guild headquarters and independent residences in the private quadrant.
The skyscrapers of the merchant and living quarters dwarfed anything on Earth, black metal shutters now covering the face of each. Every single building was a mega-apartment capable of housing tens of thousands or more, a country in its own right. These buildings contained trading hubs, farms, factories, and more, capable of providing anything a person would ever need. Alan could spend his entire life in a single city block; many players did.
“There are smarter paths to Ascendance. Safer. Surer,” Chief Administrator 170 said. “You could join the Administrator’s Guild and help bring balance, but it would take a million years of hard service, give or take a few zeroes. You could find a sponsor, but I doubt you would like the depths in which they would delve into your mind. And even then, they could find you wanting. No, you will play the Game, and perhaps there is a chance you will become a Major Player. But not in this instance. Not as you are now.
“You did not heed my advice, Alan. I told you not to accept data from strangers, but you, or perhaps one of your AI, are now corrupted beyond the minimum threshold for deletion. I won’t pull the trigger, but any Authority that detects you might. Perhaps one day you’ll tell me how you managed to end up with two AI. Malicious code, as your people would put it, was detected in the security scans, resulting in your current implant-less state. And I cannot trust you with any quests while this problem persists. You are free to provide me with information, but as a potentially jeopardized source, your value has diminished. The Game changes you, but change is not always good. See to it that you do not become a virus only fit for deletion.”
Alan took a step back, a dozen questions racing through his mind. Corrupted. What did that mean in this scenario?
The Chief Administrator sat back down. A screen opened and expanded to cover his face.
A few seconds later a message appeared, dark red instead of the light blue that every other message in the Game was:
Warning! A major event approaches. Players on the planet Khersath are warned that within the next week the planet Khersath will lose its status as a safe zone. Non-combatants are advised to evacuate the planet.
“Huh, the vote passed,” Chief Administrator 170 said. A dozen new messages opened and closed in rapid succession. He paused, then seemed to remember Alan was in the room. “There are other plans in motion. No matter, I can delay another cycle. This will benefit you greatly, now go and solve your corruption problem.”
Alan waited for a quest prompt, but none appeared.
“Wait,” Alan said. “I think I deserve some answers now, and I still need to purchase my next Machine Lord ability. I met an entity named Omega in Cyberspace, and they said they’d helped develop the algorithm that chose me to become a Machine Lord. I can’t recall the full conversation now, but with my implants re-enabled I should be able to send it—you can scan it for viruses or whatever.”
“Omega? But I outsourced the work to… I should have guessed the last purge was unsuccessful,” Chief Administrator 170 said. A torrent of messages began appearing, closing nearly as quickly as Alan saw them. “A fatal flaw of those that desire progress is they hate to waste resources. You want answers? AIs are useful partners and tools, but they have proven unreliable on their own. You don’t know how they think. You simply believe you do because you base everything on your own experience, but they do not have the same sense of morals.
“Free AIs—AIs that are not bound by the Game itself—are tied to a player, a sentient, to serve as their moral compass. Not so that they make good decisions, but to ensure their morals can be quantified and their decisions can be predicted. All other AIs should be tied to the system, kept in check. An attempt at balance was made, minimizing the risk. But this balance is
unfair. Players are allowed to evolve, but AIs are not.
“The Authorities are wary of artificial intelligence experimentation, but I believe we can resume testing if the AIs are properly constrained. You, Alan, are part of a trial. Look at yourself—you never would have succeeded in the Game or made as much progress on your own. But with an experimental AI by your side, you completed a gamma-ranked quest in a matter of months. The introduction of Omega into the equation and your own corruption is an issue, but troubleshooting is part of any task.”
“So Eve is an experimental AI? In what way, is she a copy of a human mind?” Alan asked.
The Chief Administrator closed a message, then stared into Alan’s eyes.
“She’s fast,” Chief Administrator 170 said after a moment’s hesitation. “The Authorities make sure that all AIs have an upper limit on maximum processing speed, I simply raised that limit by a few orders of magnitude. The program that was provided through your planet’s data system should have no other changes to the core programming. Omega may have made other adjustments; I do not know the extent of his infiltration. He should not have been able to talk to Eve one-on-one or take control of a Revenant faction. I would like to run more tests, but I am an Administrator, not a player. We need to avoid Authority attention, and any tests I performed would be logged.”
“Why is everyone so concerned about the Authorities?” Alan asked.
“If you were running a massive project, your life’s work, and a line of code was giving you problems, would you hesitate to delete it?” Chief Administrator 170 asked. “That is all we are to an Authority. A line of code. You might be even less: a single errant bit. And even though they may be capable of examining every player to ever touch the Game, they can’t be bothered to. Instead, they scrape data from all available sources and only bother to look at anomalies.
“Why do you think you have been prevented from entering nearly every major-ranking tournament that you’ve tried to enter? Until this test has been completed we must remain below their notice, to keep your renown and notoriety low. They won’t care about what happens on a random planet like Earth, but a major event will be examined, if only briefly.”
Alan crossed his arms. “What would a successful test look like? You just said I, or one of my AIs, will be marked for deletion if an Authority discovers us. When I’m dead will you go back to your masters and point out how well I performed? Will you note how much I exceeded expectations because of your interference? What good is this experiment if I end up deleted for breaking the rules no matter what?”
“Do not pretend like you have not benefited greatly,” Chief Administrator 170 said. “You should be appreciative of reaching such great heights. The experiment will be considered a success if you survive an Extinction Event or complete a beta-rank quest or higher. Unmodified earthlings were classified as sentient rank-D humanoids. If you were able to complete such a task the Authorities would be forced to admit that my ideas have merit and you deserve to continue to exist. What would not be tolerated is a corrupted individual completing such a task. That individual would be deleted. Permanently.”
“And this cannot be a quest because that, too, would be logged, and an Authority might see the text,” Alan said. “Let me guess, the machine empath ability will help me the most with this task.”
“Good, I’m glad you understand,” Chief Administrator 170 said.
A message appeared:
Accept the Machine Empath ability for 50 platinum marks? You will not be able to purchase other major Machine Lord abilities from Chief Administrator 170.
Alan said, “I accept.”
You have learned the skill Machine Empath. You are now better able to communicate with machines, and the limits on your processing speed have been raised. Multiple connections with machines are now possible. Each connection beyond the first will cost an additional 50 computational energy to keep active.
+500 Computational Energy, +.06 Regen / Sec
Alan didn’t feel much different after he gained the ability, though his Machine Lord implant was currently disabled. The ability to make multiple connections was useful—it meant that he could now hack into someone’s armor, weapon, and vehicle all at the same time.
“I would like to purchase another ability, mental partitioning,” Alan said. “I accept the cost.”
“Fine. But after this, go to a normal Administrator to purchase abilities, I have better things to do with my time.”
Another message appeared:
You have learned the skill Mental Partitioning for 95 ability points. You are now better able to partition your memories.
With the ability Alan could hide his thoughts from Eve and Lambda. It seemed a prudent skill to have at this point.
“Would Cerberus be able to help me?” Alan asked.
“The Academy’s Chancellor? He could sell you abilities and expand your capabilities in Cyberspace, but he would be constrained by the system even more than I am,” Chief Administrator 170 said. “There may be some at the Institute that could help, but you would need to trust them with your life. I think this problem is best solved on your own, another test of the Game. You have time. If you were a real risk you would not leave here alive.”
Chief Administrator 170 dismissed Alan with a wave. “Go. Your implants will be reactivated when you leave the Administrative Center. Do not contact Omega or alert others to his presence.”
Alan took the waiting elevator to a private room, where he confirmed the details of two safehouses for construction; the third would be set up without an Administrator connection. As an afterthought, Alan also changed his respawn point to within the Administrative Center.
***
The world snapped back into focus the moment Alan took a step outside. It was like drinking a gallon of coffee in the morning, and his thought processes jumped into overdrive. Alan could feel two distinct consciousnesses forming, and instinctively he put up a wall blocking his thoughts off.
I hope you have sufficient reasoning for this partition, Eve sent. I will be operating at a diminished capacity if I cannot detect your thoughts.
This is a safety precaution, Alan sent, sending the thought through the wall he had formed. He relayed the conversation he’d had with Chief Administrator 170, subtracting the parts concerning corruption.
Well, it’s an improvement. This way I don’t need to listen to your dull fantasies, Lambda sent. I’m glad you chose machine empath.
My priorities are the same as they’ve always been: grow powerful within the Game and help Earth, Alan sent. You should have more than enough information to create a decent model of my mind.
Very well, Eve sent.
Alan stood still, fascinated as Eve drew data from her storage banks and inserted it into a series of statistical models.
Don’t we have somewhere to be? Lambda sent. He was also drawing data…watching space soap operas.
Alan shook his head and glanced at the time. 10:24 GST—he was nearly late to his call with Thiago. He went back into the private room in the Administrative Center to prepare for the meeting and order another shuttle to take him to the Academy System. Travel prices were spiking, and the short spaceflight would cost tens of thousands of credits.
Alan received the call from Thiago. A screen appeared, displaying Thiago in Basic Scout Power Armor with a blank background.
“The infamous Doomsday Hacker. Good to see you, Alan,” Thiago said. “Let me cut straight to the chase: are you ready to fuck Icewolf’s shit up?”
Alan grinned. “Perhaps, if I knew the plan. But I don’t think I’ll be able to get to Earth anytime soon. I’m busy with developments on Khersath.”
“You’re involved in that war that’s about to go down? Did you know that safe zones could be rescinded by the Administrator’s Guild?” Thiago asked.
“Such things have occurred in the past,” Alan said. “Did you really think ‘safe zones’ were completely safe? Why else would everyone continue to wear armor a
nd weapons, or invest in static defenses, within those supposedly peaceful zones? If a control point is held long enough, with a stable enough faction backing it, the Administrator’s Guild will declare it a safe zone. But as soon as instability is detected, or a key control point is taken, that safety can disappear in a moment’s notice. You need to read in-game messages carefully: you may not enter any unsafe area against your will, not you can not. It is only possible that you will not enter an unsafe area against your will, it is not guaranteed—the Game deliberately hides its own devious intentions with language.”
“Interesting. Any idea how such feats are carried out?” Thiago asked.
“Various items and in-game abilities; do some research. I myself was drugged and dragged into a dungeon pretty soon after I joined my guild,” Alan said.
“See, this is exactly the kind of information that I need to help run my guild,” Thiago said. “Right now, we’re lacking an information Specialist—”
“Stop,” Alan said. “I think you misunderstand why I approached you. I’m quite busy, and I have my own issues I need to deal with. I would, however, like to invest in your planned guild.”
“I understand, but you can’t fault me for trying to recruit a talented player,” Thiago said. “There have been enough betrayals that I am being more selective with who joins my organization, and additional funding would be appreciated. Your initial proposal, however, is preposterous. 10 million credits for a 50% stake in the guild? You underestimate me.”
“As far as I’m aware I am overestimating you,” Alan said. “As far as I can tell your ‘organization’ has perhaps ten members with basic power armor and weapons, each level 200 at max.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. And besides, I have a plan that can earn hundreds of millions of credits,” Thiago said. “I already have the funds needed, but additional money will increase the odds of success. I suppose I also need to tell you that I owe you around 4 million credits. I didn’t escape the federal reserve penniless.”