by Gregory Loui
“Haha… the lies you tell yourself at night,” chuckled Tawny, though she took a step back as Gore loomed above her. Tawny glanced to the side at her friends. Then her gaze hardened. “You don’t belong here. Some of us got in the hard way instead of getting lifted up by the government and orc redemption initiative handouts. You don’t deserve to be in this school.”
“So? I’m here now. I’ve stuck in two years. I’ve done twice as much work as all of you combined and gotten half as much recognition. I deserve to be here.” Gore deserved happiness. Or so she told herself.
“You pathetic piece of dragon dung,” hissed Tawny as she glanced her posse. The other elves nodded. Then Tawny raised her wand. Fire rippled around the wood.
“Go on,” growled Gore, leaning in close. Her eyes flaring red. “Try me. This time I won’t make the mistake of letting you live…”
“Um… Gore?” asked Debbie, clutching Gore’s arm. The dwarf used her entire body= in a futile attempt to tear Gore from Tawny. “Your eyes are doing the thing. Come on… there are bigger gryphons to hunt. We ain’t got time for this mastodonshit.”
Ignoring Debbie and curling her hands into fists, Gore snarled and lunged forward.
Eyes blooming wide, Tawny flinched away.
The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place within Gore’s mind. In that flinch, in that briefest moment of weakness, Gore saw Tawny’s true character. A feeble, frail fool who feared the new, who could not conceive a world beyond the one she lived in. A little frog in a well, frightened by anyone who threatened her peace, propped up by the mob surrounding her.
Her rage fleeing her veins as she stopped, all the pent of energy exiting out through her lips, Gore smiled, chuckling and shaking her head. Debbie was right.
Tawny wasn’t worth her rage, her energy and, most of all, her time.
“What are you laughing about?” demanded Tawny, jabbing her wand up between Gore’s eyes.
Still chuckling, Gore didn’t flinch. For once, she didn’t let others rule her mind.
“What’s going on here?” demanded another familiar voice, this time much more welcome than Tawny’s shrill screech. All the students turned around as one to see the Dean storming through the crowds. Darkness swirled around him. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir,” barked both Tawny and Gore. They exchanged a glance.
Then Tawny shook her head and growled, “Just offering words of support to Gore. I truly~ wish the judges are impressed with whatever she’s managed to cobble together.”
Throwing one last withering look at Gore, Tawny marched off in a huff, dragging the rest of her posse with her. Or Tawny was dragged away by her posse. Gore didn’t know which anymore.
“Glad to see you’ve kissed and made up,” deadpanned the Dean, shaking his head and rubbing his smooth face. Then his eyes brightened and the Dean extended a hand. Gore sighed and shook. “I’m actually happy you could make it. I hope you got something to show Agnis. She’s… um… somewhere around here.”
“You lost track of her?” asked Gore as she let go of the Dean’s hand and turned to the cart. A flush crossed her face as a frantic energy filled her veins. She needed to prepare her exhibit, needed to get everything ready, make sure absolutely everything was perfect for Agnis.
Blight, Gore cursed. Why’d the world always have to throw her so many hook shots? To the liver no less…
Gore shook her head. No matter. She just needed to—
“Agnis!” cried the Dean, hopping around Gore and the cart. Her eyes bulging, choking on her own spit, Gore jolted upright, straight as a pillar, her heart stopping. Blight. Blight. Blight. Agnis Hopper is here. Gore repeated that to herself as she ran her hands over her clothes and tried to straighten her appearance. Agnis Hopper is here. Gore would meet the greatest, most brilliant inventor in Valerian. “What are you doing? Get out from under there!”
Gore blinked as she realized someone was peeking under the tarp at her black box. She frowned and leaned around the cart. The low half of a body popped out from under the tarp, clad in frumpy clothes and a lab coat. Wait a moment…
Then the Dean ripped off the tarp to reveal Agnis Hopper.
“Oh… hi there, Acy. How you doing?” sputtered the dwarf before pushing her massive glasses back up her equally massive nose and turning back to examining the black box. “This is fascinating. A perfect meld between technology and magic…”
“Why were you looking under a tarp, Agnis? There were a thousand different exhibits! What in the Blight drew you to look under a freaking tarp?” sputtered the Dean as he slapped his forehead and shook his head. “By the Leaf… can you get anymore awkward?”
Agnis chuckled, “Plenty. Hm… and to answer your question.”
“That was rhetorical.”
“I’m a scientist not a writer… and to answer your question. This black box called to me. Hm… yes. There’s a voice whispering from within the wires and silicon matrix. Almost like… hm, yeah. Sometimes I wish I was a writer. That would make explaining things to your plebeians so much more easier.” Agnis rolled her eyes and continued examining the black box.
“Agnis Hopper, everyone,” groaned the Dean, gesturing to Gore. He frowned, however, when Agnis didn’t react. Sighing again, the Dean jabbed Agnis in the shoulder and jerked his head to Gore. “Pst. This is the student I wanted you to meet. Gore —ahem— Kaikanikani-hau. The orc mechanical engineering major who created the black box you’re so fascinated with.
“Ah, nice to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard so much about you,” said Agnis, hopping off the cart and walking up to Gore. She offered a hand.
Numb, her thoughts still in a whirl, Gore reached out to take her hero’s hand. She stammered, “And I heard so much about you, er, I mean, um… it’s hard not to hear much about you. I was interested in your work since I was three. When you discovered how to create the first functional virtual intelligence based on a ghost. But you probably don’t remember that, er, since you’ve done so much since then. Am I rambling? I feel like I’m rambling.”
Debbie’s giggle helped bring Gore back into reality as Gore took a moment to breath and examine her hero.
The dwarf was… shorter than Gore imagined. If that was possible. Dressed almost like how Gore envisioned the stereotypical dwarven matron, thick wool clothes covering every inch of her body, her hair tied up into a messy bun with a pair of chopsticks sticking through it, Agnis did not quite cut a heroic figure. But her eyes… oh by the Blight, behind those thick glasses beamed the fiercest eyes Gore had ever seen, rivaling even her mother in their blinding brilliance. The type of eyes that could pick apart the world down to the smallest atom at a glance. The eyes of a scientist, forever seeking the truth of the world.
Blight, Gore longed to swap places with Agnis. If only for a moment, for the briefest of heartbeats. To know what she knew. To see the world through her eyes.
Then Gore realized she was staring. She blushed and looked down at her feet, mumbling, “Sorry. It’s just so… awesome to meet you at last. You’re my hero, you know? But I mentioned that already. Damn, I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”
“I’m glad I could be source of inspiration, especially to impoverished and marginalized peoples.” Agnis smiled and pat Gore on the shoulder. Gore twitched. Some of the shine on her hero came off. But Gore just sighed. It was probably harmless patronization… right? “But in fact, after all Acy’s been talking my ear off about you, I look to you for inspiration. To know that even in the most dire of circumstance, people can still devote themselves to science and exploration of the universe. For science!”
Agnis let out a maniacal laugh.
Gore raised a eyebrow at the Dean, who coughed and looked away.
“I might have told her about you in several conversations before this whole… situation,” murmured the Dean before he sighed and hopped over to the cart. He began pushing it towards Gore’s spot.
“Thanks…” mumbled Gore, stumbling after them.
“What was that?”
Gore blinked and then coughed, “Thanks for your continued support.”
This time, the Dean raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Damn you’re starting to sound like the board. Stuffy bastards…”
“True. True,” smirked Agnis while the Dean set the cart down and gestured for Gore to come forward.
“Well, we got a lot of other exhibits to go through but we can spend a few minutes looking at your invention, Gore. So…” the Dean smiled. “What’s this doohickey do?”
“Um… yes! This is my invention. I, uh, started, er, inventing it, um, a few years ago…” Gore gulped and looked around for someone to speak in her place. Oh by the Blight… a drake caught her tongue. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breath.
“It’s alright. Everyone gets nervous around a crowd but we have to deal with it. We’re scientists. We need to pick apart our emotions and unravel why we feel them,” murmured Agnis, reaching up on her toes and placing a hand on Gore’s. Gore blinked and looked into her hero’s eyes. “Now. Take a deep breath.”
Gore sucked in air.
“Hold it and count to five…”
Her heart slowing down, Gore closed her eyes.
“Then exhale… good! And again…”
Regaining her composure, Gore sighed, shaking her head as she looked down at the back box. She closed her eyes and listened to the murmurs emanating from the soul held within. She smiled. Gore hadn’t been fair to her inventions. She needed more faith in their abilities, trust in the blood, sweat and tears she had poured into the creation.
Then Gore began again, murmuring, “This is the Magnum Orcus Core. Based on ancient orc soulforging techniques but with a modern twist, implementing new engineering techniques and a silicon matrix as well as a blood gem to create a functional artificial intelligence.”
“Wow,” whistled Debbie, clapping her hands. “I have absolutely no idea what you just said but it sounded intelligent! Good job!”
“Hm… fascinating… so how powerful is this artificial intelligence?” asked Agnis as she leaned in and Gore tapped the power button.
“Very powerful,” murmured Gore while red glint-power cackled from within the Magnum Orcus’s core. For a moment, a face formed within the crackling cloud before submerging back into the nether. As the whispers intensified, Gore chuckled, “With more than a hundred times the processing power of an average matrix, it can process over a thousand equations in a single millisecond. In fact, when I ran the lastest tests, I found the core’s processing power to be almost on par with current reports on military hardware or the cloud’s monitoring system.”
“Even more fascinating. And such a small device as well. You could insert this into almost anything larger than a smart scryer,” whispered Agnis, pulling out a small microscope and examining the cloud of glint still crackling around the core.
“Actually… I don’t even need to connect the core to a device,” chuckled Gore as she tapped the core and whispered, “Please deactivate the lights.”
“Ka rite ki te hiahia koe,” growled the core with the voice of a legion.
Debbie blinked and coughed, “Wait, what did it say—”
A moment later, darkness fell on the ballroom.
Only the glow of magic and the experiments exposed Gore’s smile as the screams of the other students echoed in her ears. Such a sweet symphony… but alas, Gore had to end it too soon. She ordered, “Turn the lights back on. But make them just a little green.”
“Ka rite ki te hiahia koe,” barked the core, causing the lights to flicker back on. And only a shade away from pure white.
The other students, after a swell of murmurs went back to their work. All except for one.
Gore glanced out of the corner of her vision at Tawny. The elf’s hair spun as Tawny turned and glared at Gore.
The two locked eyes for a moment. A thought akin to respect passed between them. Like the day they first met in the intro class to mechanical engineering, when Gore showed off her clock made out of trash, when Tawny showed hers made out of elchite and gems. They had tied for best clock. Remembering the better days, Gore’s face softened for a moment.
Sniffing, her entire face spasming, Tawny gave Gore the briefest of nods.
Respect? Probably not. But close enough.
Gore chuckled at the sight as she turned back to the core, reveling in her invention’s power.
“Damn, now that was impressive,” laughed Debbie, punching Gore in the arm.
Gore punched the dwarf back and continued explaining, “The core can wirelessly access any glint or computer system connected to the cloud within a hundred feet. And that’s not even the best part. You wanna guess what it is?”
“Oh?” asked Agnis, raising an eyebrow. Then she smiled and muttered, “Hm… an artificial intelligence is no good if it’s just a processing machine, even if it is more powerful than any computer on the market. Therefore… you somehow programmed it to be able to grow and learn from it’s experience, correct?”
“Ding ding ding! We have a winner,” crowed Gore as she raised the core to the green light. The memories leaking from the blood gem curled around her arms and bit into her brain. Memories of the glorious Orc civilization in the southern jungle. Gore smiled and whispered, “Because of the magic involved in the blood gem and the programs I installed into the silicon matrix, the artificial intelligence can grow, learn from its experiences and the knowledge it draws from outside sources. It’s never stuck to one path. It will grow and evolve even faster than a regular person. I’ve already compiled some data points from the tests I’ve run on the core.”
Gore gestured to some of the panels stowed under the cart. Her eyes popping, a lightbulb almost flashing over her head, Debbie reached down and pulled out the graph that Gore had referred to. Only upside down. Gore had to resist palming her face as she continued explaining, “In just a few hours, the artificial intelligence had already surpassed the reading comprehension and critical thinking slash problem solving abilities of a three year old child. I project that growth will only accelerate if I give the Core more information.”
Of course, Gore had excluded the countless abilities that she’d discovered through connecting the core to the Magnum Orcus. In fact, Gore was still discovering new abilities that she’d never assumed possible for a hunk of cold steel and elchite. Almost as if the blood gem had transformed the Magnum Orcus into a beast of myth rather than machine…
Gore shook her head.
No need for even her hero to know about the self-healing capabilities, about the ability to draw power from sunlight, about… No need for anyone but her to know what power a blood gem core could breath into an soul forged vehicle.
“Impressive. Incredibly impressive for a mechanical engineering student to accomplish on her own what our finest scientists with the help and funding of the Valerian government could not achieve. Fine work,” nodded Agnis, patting Gore on the back. “I’ll need to conduct further tests but I don’t think there’s another invention here that could compete with yours. I’ll most certainly put forward my full recommendation to your continued advancement through this school’s fine education system.”
Gore’s heart leapt at her hero’s words. Oh Blight… she’d done it. She’d really done it.
Then Gore realized that Agnis continued talking, jabbering, “Though I have to see them all. All these ideas floating in the air, all these young minds putting their heads to work to solve today and tomorrow’s problems just makes me so giddy! Come on, take a break from your exhibit, let’s look at them all together.”
“You are such a nerd,” sighed the Dean, shaking his head with a resigned sigh. “I can’t believe we even dated.”
“Hey, you didn’t complain when I—”
“Agnis! Not in front of the students!” barked the Dean, his eyes wide and face contorting into a strange mix between hideous scowl and piss frightened scream.
“Hahaha!” cackled Agnis as
she slapped her knee. “This will never get old. Just like you. Well, come on… what are we waiting for? The future awaits!”
Her heart light, Gore made to follow her hero through the ballroom of wonder. At that moment, she could leapt into the sky and never fall back down. Despite the dark thoughts still lingering at the edge of her brain, the thoughts of Bones and the rest of the orc world, Gore had never stood taller.
For once, Gore had succeeded at something.
For once, Gore smiled, eyes gold.
Then fire swept through the ballroom.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Blight
The explosion ripped through rows of inventions, sweeping up in a horde of furious faces and gaping maws to consume flesh and metal alike. Narrowing her eyes, unable to block her vision in time, Gore caught a glimpse of seven dwarves scrambling around the source of the explosion before another wave of fire swept out and blocked her view.
For a brief instant, everyone stood gaping at the flames, unable to believe their own eyes.
Gore’s heart stopped. Then she slapped herself back into reality.
“Shit! What happened?” asked the Dean before he shook his head and looked at the students. Eyes hardening to steel, he barked, “We need to evacuate now! Go! Go! Go!”
“On it!” barked Debbie, clutching Fin and Agnis’s hands. With a nod to Gore, she sped off to the exits. “Everyone follow me!”
While Gore ran in the opposite direction.
Cold claws and shadows wrapped around her shoulders. Gore whipped around. The Dean, half-morphed into a swarm of shadowed bats, clung onto her back. The Dean barked, “Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna get my core,” spat Gore as she dodged the exploding shards of an invention. Fabric ripped as a shard of molten glass ripped through her shirt, missing her chest by a fraction of a millimeter. Ducking down but continuing to run, Gore snapped her gaze about. The flames spread up to consume the walls of the ballroom, climbing up the drapes. “Shit, we don’t have much time!”