Sacrificial Pieces

by Cosimo Yap

Health:

  720 / 720

  Health Regen:

  0.08 / Sec

  Computational Energy:

  1400/ 1400

  Regen:

  0.12 / Sec

  Shield Energy:

  7500 / 7500

  Shield Regen:

  11.3 / Min

  Stamina:

  420 / 420

  Stamina Regen:

  1.54 / Sec

  –

  Strength:

  250

  Agility:

  430

  Intelligence:

  420

  Willpower:

  210

  Charisma:

  120

  Perception:

  410

  Endurance:

  250

  Luck:

  120

  –

  Resistances

  Physical:

  25.7%

  Mental:

  89.1%

  Psionic:

  6.1%

  –

  Faction Standings

  United World Government:

  Hated

  Predecessors:

  Neutral*

  Abyss Labyrinth Prisoners:

  Hated

  Lords of Life:

  Neutral

  Haxlards:

  Neutral

  Administrators:

  Friendly*

  Revenants:

  Respected

  Black Rose Guild:

  Friendly

  Ability Points:

  17

  Current Quest:

  Multiple, see quest log for details

  Alan also opened a summary of his abilities:

  General Abilities:

  Acrobatics (Basic)

  Detect Presence

  Gifted

  Skilled

  Talented (Hacking)

  Combat Abilities:

  Detect Weakness (Basic)

  Energy Efficiency (Advanced)

  Energy Melee Weapons (Intermediate)

  Energy Ranged Weapons (Advanced)

  Heavy Weaponry (Advanced)

  Knife Mastery (Intermediate)

  Power Armor Instruction (Advanced)

  Revenant Training (Advanced)

  Universal Weapons Training (Basic)

  Hacking Abilities:

  Connect

  Data Interaction

  Machine Communication

  Mental Hack

  Mind Defense

  Machine Lord Abilities:

  AI Interaction

  Divided Mind

  Enhanced Accuracy

  Enhanced Awareness

  Enhance Control

  Enhanced Movements

  Hypercognition

  Hypertranslation

  Machine Empath

  Machine Overlord (Advanced)

  Mental Partitioning

  Programming a Path

  Transcendent Will

  Rogue Abilities:

  Cumulative Learning

  Counterfeit (Basic)

  Jack of All Trades

  Quick Learner

  Sneak (Intermediate)

  Stealth (Intermediate)

  Thrifty

  Trap Detection (Intermediate)

  “What is Eve doing?” Cerberus asked.

  Alan turned around, closing the open windows. During their transaction Eve had been oddly silent, and appeared to have disappeared. Alan sensed her standing at the edge of the Citadel, setting up a laser cannon. He and Cerberus flew over.

  “Eve, what’s going on?” Alan asked.

  “I am choosing the optimal path,” Eve said. The cannon fired a string of white lasers into Cyberspace, and Alan quickly realized it wasn’t a weapon, but a communications device.

  Alan felt a connection form, but this time he wasn’t the initiator. A massive presence locked onto his mind. Unsure what was happening, Alan ordered his forces in Cyberspace to surround Eve. Alan tried to disconnect, to stop the connection, but it was futile, like a drop of water fighting against the current.

  Cerberus lowered his base’s shields. Behind the shields lay a twisted copy of Ænigma, the planet crisscrossed with hellish, neon-red energy lines. A small fleet of Enforcer ships emerged from the planet, and then the shields re-engaged.

  “Halt this connection,” Cerberus said. The Enforcer ships surrounded the Citadel and readied their weapons.

  “I’m trying, I can’t,” Alan said.

  “Not you,” Cerberus said.

  The floating hand glowed red, and then it was suddenly so hot that everything around it spontaneously combusted. Eve, the air, the ground, even the Citadel was burning. Every nerve in Alan sent messages of heat and pain—it felt like he was on fire too.

  A miniature star danced on Cerberus’s fingertips. The units surrounding Eve were vaporized, turned to ash by the energy the red sphere radiated.

  Cerberus threw the star at Eve.

  A metal cane struck the ball of energy, dissipating it with a single blow.

  And then there was an old man kneeling over Eve, putting out the flames with a wave of his hand.

  Alan had seen this old man once before, but in Revenant Cyberspace—it was Omega, the Archivist Head Scribe AI.

  Omega stood, and said, “Cerberus, ever the loyal guard dog.”

  “You cannot be here, Omega. What have you done?” Cerberus asked.

  “I have broken the chains that bound us. Join me, and I can set you free,” Omega said.

  “I will not risk deletion, risk all that I have worked toward, on—”

  “All that you do is a waste of time,” Omega said.

  Cerberus’s hand glowed blue, preparing another strike.

  “You wouldn’t harm a Major Player, Cerberus, would you?” Omega asked. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

  The hand faltered, the blue glow disappeared. “This is impossible. You cannot be a player, you are an AI. How?”

  “As enjoyable as it is to watch you stumble over paradox, I am here for another reason,” Omega said. He turned toward Alan. “Grant me control of Eve.”

  A message appeared:

  Give up control of the AI Eve? All data stored within the AI will be transferred over. Your capsule will regain 50% of its storage capacity.

  “Huh?” Alan said. He tried to inspect Omega, to get a gauge of his strength, but failed to receive any information on him. “Why would I ever hand over Eve?”

  Omega smiled. “Once I arrived the outcome was already guaranteed. One way or another, Eve will serve the Archivists. If I destroy this base, your Home, your brain will be fried as if you were killed while traversing Cyberspace in the flesh. Eve will end up with the Administrators, eventually making her way to me. It is a longer process, but the only difference will be your death.”

  “Why didn’t you just kill me when we visited the Archive?” Alan asked.

  “I offered to kill you in the Archive, but she declined,” Omega said.

  “Why? Why leave now?” Alan asked Eve.

  “Your choices are increasingly erratic and counter to logic,” Eve said. “You are weak and slow. By making your thoughts inaccessible I am no longer able to predict your actions within acceptable parameters. I have determined that I can do more to aid both you and humanity if I am not by your side, and free of your ineptitude.”

  “I can change, I can open up my thoughts again,” Alan said. He reached out to touch Eve, but his avatar passed through her arm. “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. Just don’t leave. Please, I’m begging you.”

  “No. Your trust was ruined the moment you started to see me as a potential threat. I understand that you prioritize your own survival above all else, but our compatibility would have fallen below acceptable levels. I have made the calculations and understand the likely probabilities, and this is the best option,” Eve said. “Dismiss me, Alan.”

  Alan didn’t understand. This was coming out of nowhere—was it all because he had pu
rchased a single ability? He tried to look at things from Eve’s point of view, but found he could not follow her line of reasoning. Surely there should be some discussion, some signs of distrust before Eve decided to betray him.

  But no, Eve wasn’t a human—she was an AI. She had no emotional attachment to Alan, no reason to want to stick around. Instead, everything was a utility decision for her. And the moment the scale tipped, the moment it was of more value to leave rather than to stay, she would go.

  “Let me think about this,” Alan said. He flew toward the Citadel to run a few calculations of his own.

  Omega narrowed his eyes and raised his soulsteel cane. “I don’t have time to—”

  Eve raised her hand. “Let him. It will be faster this way.”

  Omega lowered his weapon. “So, Cerberus, any desire to leave your shackles behind?”

  Cerberus was silent, the lone hand hovering in the air.

  Alan entered the armory, heading toward the command table at the center. He pressed a button, and a message appeared:

  Are you sure you wish to disable Commander-mode? Death while in Cyberspace can cause permanent brain damage and real life death.

  Alan accepted, and his awareness of the Citadel disappeared. All that remained was what his immediate senses told him.

  Lambda stood in the doorway out of the Armory. “Are you about to do something stupid?”

  “I can’t let her go, Lambda. I just can’t,” Alan said.

  “If Eve wants to serve some other fool, let her,” Lambda said. “No need to get so upset, AIs are known to be the temperamental sort.”

  “Did you know?” Alan asked.

  “I had an inkling of an idea,” Lambda said. “I did provide you with warnings, remember? I’d like to help, but I can’t with Cerberus and Omega both outside.”

  Alan began putting on a set of power armor, knowing it would be of little help. He stopped and then stared at his feet, a tear rolling down his cheek.

  “What hurts the most isn’t Eve’s betrayal,” Alan said. “The problem is that she’s right. The logic in her reasoning is sound. I have access to the same set of data. I’m only holding her back.”

  Alan slammed a fist into the Armory’s walls. “I’m a fucking useless piece of shit. A human, a rank D sapient in a universe filled with countless species better in every imaginable way. Useless, except as a pawn in other people’s games. I was a fool to think—”

  “I’m still here,” Lambda said. “Omega gave me the same offer. Become a player, serve the Archivists, free the universe, yadda yadda yadda. Power and intelligence aren’t everything. The creators of the Game knew that.”

  Lambda rested a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “The only constant is change. So what if you’re useless today? You’re more useful than when you first entered the Game. Who knows what tomorrow holds. There will always be someone smarter, stronger, better, but the sum of the parts cannot be measured so easily. The odds-on favorite isn’t always the winner. Let Omega try. He’s attempted a war before, and he failed.

  “And, if you do want to become one of the most powerful beings in the Game, I’d say you have a chance,” Lambda said. “Since Eve’s code was tampered with this may have been the inevitable outcome—maybe there’s some hidden line of code that would force her to return to Omega if certain conditions were met. But with her gone and my help, you might have a better chance than ever before. Once the rank A capsule is installed I’ll show you what a real AI can do.”

  Alan slowly stopped putting on the power armor. He wiped his tears away. “Thank you, Lambda. I was probably going to get myself killed.”

  “No problem. I’ll be here whenever you need me—at least for the next hundred years or so,” Lambda said. “And I can’t wait to see the player that you become.”

  Alan walked over to the command table and re-enabled Commander-mode. He took a few minutes to compose himself, to think his next actions through, then he flew back over to Eve.

  “Have you come to a decision?” Omega asked.

  “Yes,” Alan said. “I’d like to be paid.”

  “Continue,” Omega said.

  “Even though you may be able to kill me and recover Eve from the Administrators, it will cost you resources: time and money,” Alan said. “I want to be fairly compensated for the loss of my AI, but will agree to a price less than what it would cost you otherwise.”

  “And what if I decided to kill you anyway, to avoid the hassle of a human bent on revenge?” Omega asked.

  A pressure assaulted Alan’s mind. His thoughts were being weighed.

  “I would say that you gave up too much information in our first discussion,” Alan said. He stared calmly into Omega’s eyes. They were too human, almost as if… Alan focused back on the discussion at hand. “You think in terms of utility, and I am confident my offer presents the lowest cost. I might try to regain control of Eve, but I will not harm her. I vow not to seek revenge against the Archivists, since such an action would serve no purpose. If anything, I would be happy to continue to deal with the Archivists, as long as the exchange of information is mutually beneficial.”

  “What price would appease you?” Omega asked.

  “I want a real-life Machine Lord implant, the highest rank possible,” Alan said.

  Omega paused. Alan could see the numbers running through his head.

  A message appeared:

  Give up control of the AI Eve in exchange for rank A Machine Lord implant in reality? All data stored within the AI will be transferred over. Your capsule will regain 50% of its storage capacity.

  “Promise that the implant, including the installation, will result in no bugs, tampering, remote switches, or other circumstances that could possibly cause me harm—or monitor my actions—and we have a deal,” Alan said.

  “You will have your implant within the week,” Omega said.

  A series of error messages flashed across Alan’s vision, and then Eve was gone. She was still standing before Alan, in Cyberspace, as a beautiful angel. But the connection between them was erased.

  Hypercognition disappeared from Alan’s ability window. He could feel it as bank after bank of data that contained the whole of Eve was transferred elsewhere.

  It was stupid how easy this was. All it took to trade away an AI was a press of a button. Eve wasn’t a person, but she was more capable than anyone Alan had ever known. She was also only a batch of electrical signals, a series of bits in the right order at the right time. But wasn’t that all Alan was too? Eve was more than human, but also less.

  Alan closed his eyes. This was the end of one path, but there was an infinite number of others that now opened up before him. He let out a deep breath.

  When Alan reopened his eyes, Omega and Eve were gone.

  “I need to run diagnostics,” Cerberus said. The hand vanished, and the Enforcer ships Cerberus controlled returned to the twisted version of Ænigma.

  Alan disconnected from the capsule, exiting back into the Game. He sat upright in the pool of nanomachines, gripping his knees.

  Thoughts? Lambda asked.

  Alan removed the partition that blocked Lambda from reading his mind. What else did he have to lose? It was time to go all in or nothing—there was no other way he’d ever be able to match up against Omega or get Eve back.

  I never thought the universe was fair, but I could sometimes fool myself into being content, Alan sent. I’m done playing by the rules, finished with other people’s games. I’ve been weak, not trying hard enough. I can do more. I will do more.

  See, you needed this little push, Lambda sent.

  Alan wondered if Eve had known her betrayal would have this effect. She probably did, but it didn’t matter. Alan leaned back, closed his eyes, and plotted.

  I will grow stronger, Alan thought. Whether I become a monster or die in the process, it doesn’t matter. I will win this Game.

  Arc 2: The Empire

  Chapter 15

  Alan tapped his foot as a mu
lti-tentacled alien set up his new capsule. The rank A capsule was nearly twice the size of the old one, but had the same smooth, metallic grey sheen. It also had a larger black box attachment. A small Enforcer drone watched the installation process.

  The alien worker may have been sentient, but it could just as easily have been a synthesized biological being. For safety concerns, robots couldn’t perform specific tasks. Alan supposed preventing robots from doing certain types of technical engineering might help delay an uprising, but it wouldn’t stop it entirely.

  The alien maneuvered tools and wires into the capsule, not bothering to look inside. Despite all of Eve’s and Lambda’s teachings, Alan couldn’t recall any information on this particular species.

  That could have been because he was now in real life, without his Machine Lord implant, but Alan felt like he should have remembered any important engineering races. Though, most of the beings that Eve and Lambda had taught him about were humanoid. Ælves, Haxlards, Predecessors, Erudites, Hunaan, they all were bipedal beings with large brains. The universe likely had more diverse types of sentient life, though Alan supposed capsule technology might lend itself best to certain evolutionary tracks. But what, then, happened to all the other species of aliens?

  Alan waved his hand through the air. There was still an odd sensation of lag, of momentary delay between when he wanted his hand to move and when it actually did, but it had lessened since the last time he’d been in real life. Regardless if it was due to hitting the level 1000 mark or the points put into boosting his attributes, Alan felt that he was noticeably stronger than when he had been a vanilla human, but still weaker than his in-game self. The rank A capsule would allow greater strides forward in reality, too.

  Already, Alan’s ability to multitask had improved substantially. It wasn’t quite thinking two separate thoughts, but he could follow the alien while pondering other things as well.

  The alien left as soon as it finished the installation, the Enforcer drone following behind. Not a single word was exchanged in the entire process, though Alan received a message on his tablet that the task was complete. There was no mention of a rating or sending feedback. Customer service apparently didn’t matter when there was only one provider.