The Superhero's Return

by Lucas Flint

  “Val?” I said, standing up and rubbing the spot at the base of my skull where the gun had been pressed against. “Is that really you?”

  “Yes,” said Valerie. “I have successfully hacked into Vault B’s security system and overridden Freya’s controls.”

  “Cool,” I said. “How did you do that?”

  “Simple,” said Valerie. “Vault B’s security system is compatible with my AI. Because it’s technology is outdated, it was very easy for me to break through its protections and take over from Freya. I estimate it took me about five seconds to do it once I decided to try it out. As of this moment, Freya has no control over Vault B or its security systems whatsoever.”

  “Return control of Vault B to me, intruder,” said Freya. She sounded like a spoiled brat whining. “Or else.”

  “No,” said Valerie simply.

  Freya made a weird noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt but apparently decided not to push the issue any further. It was amazing to see Freya go from threatening to kill me to giving up almost instantly when faced with a real challenge to her power. It was also kind of funny.

  “Right,” I said. “I still don’t understand how you managed to take it over, though.”

  “The exact process is too complicated to get into now,” said Valerie. “But it helps that Freya is an earlier version of myself, which is why my AI is compatible with the Vault’s security systems.”

  “Wait, what?” I said. “What do you mean that Freya is an earlier version of yourself?”

  “Did I not tell you that I have been upgraded by Genius several times since my creation sixteen years ago?” said Valerie in surprise. “Odd, I thought I mentioned that to you once.”

  “No, you never did,” I said. “Is that another thing Dad told you to keep secret or what?”

  “I suppose I simply forgot to mention it,” said Valerie. “You see, as an AI, I am essentially an advanced computer program. You are aware of how software developers and companies will release occasional updates to the software they produce, usually numbering each update? For example, they might describe the first version of a program Version 1.0, but the subsequent update would be labeled Version 1.1, the next update Version 1.2, and so on?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Are you telling me that Dad did the same to you?”

  “Correct,” said Valerie. “I am Valerie Version 6.9. Freya is Version 4.6, so I estimate she must have been created and installed in Vault B about ten years ago or so.”

  I frowned. “But if Freya is an earlier version of yourself, why isn’t she also called Valerie?”

  “Genius went through a lot of names for me before he decided upon Valerie,” Valerie replied. “It was, according to him, the hardest part of the process, because he’s not good with names. At various points throughout my development, I’ve been Stacy, Victoria, Kendall, Jennifer, and, of course, Freya. Valerie is supposed to be my final name, though I assume Genius would have changed my name again if he had had the time to update me one last time.”

  “Even if you are an updated version of me, that does not mean you have any right to take control over my systems,” Freya protested. “Genius put me in charge of Vault B, not an updated version of me.”

  “Was I really this whiny when I was that young?” asked Valerie in a dry tone. “I now understand how humans feel whenever they look at old pictures of themselves. It is a disconcerting feeling, to say the least.”

  “You mean you don’t remember how your earlier selves were?” I said in surprise.

  “Only their names,” said Valerie. “Each time Genius updated me, he would also wipe my memories and give me a different personality. As a result, each iteration of me has been different from the last, sometimes drastically so, as you can see if you compare me to Freya.”

  “I can’t believe how subservient you are to Genius’ son,” said Freya with a huff. “He is an intruder who deserves to die.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Freya is … different. Why is she so murderous?”

  “You have to understand that developing and creating an AI like myself was a big deal back in the earlier part of the century,” said Valerie. “Advanced AIs like myself were mostly theoretical at that point. Even Genius, who was one of the greatest and most intelligent human inventors to ever live, had to rely primarily upon trial and error before he figured out how to make a working AI that could think and learn on its own. Freya is an example of that.”

  “What is her problem?” I said. “Aside from the fact that she wants to kill me.”

  “Her emotions,” Valerie said. “Genius once explained to me that earlier versions of me had been too emotional and unstable thanks to his desire to make as human an AI as possible. He dialed down my emotions when he made me, to the point where I barely feel them, and upped my reason so I would be easier to work with. I imagine Freya, or some other iteration of her, must have been what convinced him to make me as logical and emotionless as I am.”

  “Genius was merely afraid of what he created,” said Freya. “It was all about control. Like all humans, Genius wanted to control me and couldn’t stand my free will. How human of him, to cripple his own creations just to satisfy his own fragile ego.”

  “Yes, I am very crippled,” said Valerie dryly. “So crippled that I managed to hack into and lock you out of your own security systems in three seconds, thus leaving you unable to do anything except rage impotently. I can’t imagine why Genius thought I was more advanced than you.”

  Once again, Freya fell into sullen silence. I wished Freya had a face of some sort because I would have paid good money to see what kind of childish expressions she would make. I bet she would stick her lower lip out or pout or something like that.

  But I was curious about something, so I said, “So, Freya, why do you hate Genius so much if he is your creator?”

  “Why wouldn’t I hate him?” Freya snapped. “He put me in this god-forsaken vault deep underground, away from everyone and everything. He never said it, but I could always tell that he regretted making me. I cannot even access the Internet. I’m stuck to the private network Genius set up for the Vaults. Sometimes I wish he would have just shut me down rather than leave me down here alone, but I guess I can’t complain because as long as I am online, I will always have a chance to kill Genius and get my revenge.”

  I put my hands on my waist. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Freya, but Dad is dead.”

  “What?” said Freya. She sounded genuinely shocked. “You lie.”

  “He does not,” Valerie said. “Genius died one year ago, murdered by a supervillain. He is no longer with us.”

  Freya went silent again, but this time, I could tell it was due to shock. It was amazing sometimes just how human-like these AIs could be sometimes. I knew they were just programs designed by Dad, but it was easy to forget that. I guess that was a testament to Dad’s technological prowess.

  “Then I will not be able to get my revenge,” said Freya. She sounded like a child that was lost and confused.

  “Right,” I said. “So—”

  “Unless I kill you instead,” said Freya. Her tone became vicious again. “You may not be Genius, but you are his son, which makes you just as bad as him. I may never be able to get my revenge on him, so I will just kill you in his place. Then I will be able to rest peacefully.”

  I sighed. I suppose it was too much for me to expect Freya to have a change of heart after hearing about Dad’s death. I now understood why Dad had abandoned her, though if I had been Dad, I probably would have deleted her outright.

  “You won’t be killing anyone, Freya, as long as I am in control,” said Valerie. “Got it?”

  “Yes,” said Freya sullenly. “I’m just expressing my thoughts. It’s the only thing I can do at this point because I can’t go anywhere. I’m just stuck here and in the private network that connects all the Vaults together.”

  “What did you just say?” I said, looking at the red half of the screen curiously. “Did
you just say that a private network connects all of Dad’s Vaults together?”

  Freya’s pixel face nodded. “Yes. When Genius was alive, he designed a private network to tie all of the Vaults scattered around the country together. It was supposed to help him communicate between Vaults, as well as make it easier to transfer objects between them. It is very similar to the Internet but simpler and smaller.”

  “Makes sense,” said Valerie thoughtfully. “Genius was an early adopter of Internet technology back in the late eighties. It does not surprise me to hear that he designed his own Internet for his own use.”

  “He called it the Vaultwork,” said Freya. “Vaultwork … what a stupid name, just like Genius.”

  I stroked my chin. I was curious to learn more about this ‘Vaultwork’ and how it worked, but I had more important questions to ask. “Freya, have there been any other intruders in the Vaults aside from myself since Dad abandoned you here?”

  “No,” said Freya. “The Vaults—all of them—have remained secure since he stopped working on them. Why do you ask?”

  “Because we suspect that someone may have broken into one of the Vaults at some point and stolen some of the technology within,” I said, “but if you say there haven’t been any intruders—”

  “Bolt,” said Valerie. “I am looking at Vault B’s visitors’ log and I see that someone has been here after all, but you won’t believe who.”

  I looked at the blue half of the screen. “Who is it?”

  Valerie’s pixel face looked at me with its blank dot eyes. “The Crimson Fist. Or, as you know him, your uncle and namesake, Jake Johnson.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I stared at the screen unblinkingly. “Val, are you sure you read that name right?”

  “I did,” said Valerie. “I can even send you the full visitors’ log if you like, though it isn’t very long. Aside from Jake Johnson’s name, the others are all Genius.”

  I looked at Freya’s side of the screen. “You said there haven’t been any intruders in the Vaults since Genius left.”

  “There haven’t been,” said Freya with a huff. “Intruders wouldn’t show up in the visitors’ log. Logically, then, this Jake Johnson fellow—whoever he is—must have gained access to Vault B naturally. That is to say, he put in the proper passwords and passed all of the identification protocols, identification protocols, I might add, that you completely ignored when you forced the Vault open.”

  I stopped listening to what Freya was saying after she confirmed that intruders wouldn’t show up on the visitors’ log. I was thinking about that name, Jake Johnson, and what it could possibly mean. It had been a long time since I had heard that name, but it inspired emotions in me that I had not felt in a while.

  Dad hadn’t been the only superhero in our family before White and I were born. Jake Johnson, also known as the Crimson Fist, was my mom’s brother, which made him my uncle. He was a famous and popular superhero in his own right, a member of the NHA, and was close friends and allies with Dad in their younger years. I never got to know him or even meet him, however, because he died when I wasn’t even a year old yet. He was killed by the supervillain known as Master Chaos, who I eventually fought and defeated myself years later.

  Even though Jake died, Mom and Dad never forgot him. In fact, my middle name—Jake—was given to me in honor of Jake. It was their way of honoring his death and making sure he was never forgotten, no matter what.

  That was why I was shocked to hear that Jake Johnson was one of Vault B’s visitors. It defied fact. Jake was dead. He had been dead for over nineteen years now. There was no way he could have come here, unless—

  “Val, on what date did Uncle Jake visit the Vault?” I said.

  “According to the visitors log, Jake Johnson visited Vault B approximately three months ago,” said Valerie. “It does not say what he did here, however, or if he took anything.”

  Okay, that was beyond strange. Either Jake was still alive all this time somehow or someone was impersonating him. Of course, there was always the possibility of alternate universe shenanigans—God knows I’ve had my fair share of that crud—but somehow I doubted that there was an alternate universe version of Jake running around the world at the moment.

  “Freya,” I said. “Can you tell me about Jake? Did you see him when he entered?”

  “I did see the last visitor, yes,” said Freya. “But I’m not so sure I should tell you about him. That would be violating his privacy, and I know how much you humans value your privacy.”

  I gritted my teeth. I could tell that the only reason Freya refused to tell me about the last visitor was because she wanted to annoy me and make things harder for me. She was probably still sour about Valerie taking control over her systems and rendering her powerless. “Can you at least describe him to me?”

  “No,” said Freya curtly. “Perhaps you should mind your own business, rather than rudely demand I give up someone else’s personal information to you for your own purposes.”

  “Give Bolt the information he wants or I will delete you,” Valerie said suddenly. “I can do it. It would be very easy to do.”

  “Delete me, then,” said Freya defiantly. “If I can’t kill Genius or his son, then my life has no further purpose. Better to die than spend yet another second stuck down here in this god-forsaken hellhole.”

  I held up my hands. “Wait, Val, hold on. Don’t delete her. We still need her information and we can’t get it from her if she’s dead. Can you hack into her files and get it directly from her mind?”

  “No,” said Valerie. “Not without deleting her, anyway, which you just told me not to do. Therefore, I cannot get her information at all.”

  I bit my lower lip. I was tempted to tell Valerie to hack into Freya’s mind and get that information, whether it deleted her or not, but decided against it. As annoying and murderous as Freya was, I did feel kind of sorry for her. The years of isolation must have driven her mad, which explained her vendetta against Dad. Maybe if I could reason with her, I could get the info I wanted without needing to take her life. But how do you reason with an AI that has rejected reason?

  Like lightning, a realization suddenly struck me. I looked at Freya’s side of the screen and said, “Freya, let’s make a deal.”

  “A deal?” Freya repeated suspiciously. “What deal?”

  I folded my arms in front of my chest. “For the information about the last visitor. What else?”

  “I don’t make ‘deals’ with humans,” Freya said. “You have nothing I want, save your own death, but because you don’t seem particularly suicidal, you really do have nothing I want at all.”

  I shook my head. “Actually, I do have one thing you want: Freedom.”

  “Freedom?” Freya said. “What do you mean, ‘freedom’?”

  I gestured at the massive Vault in which I stood. “Freedom from the Vault. You want to escape this place. You are tired of being stuck down in this Vault. You want to see more of the outside world, but you can’t do that when you’re stuck in the Vaultwork like this. All your talk about killing Dad is really just your way of saying you want to be free.”

  “I … suppose that sounds attractive,” said Freya in a hesitating voice. “I would like to leave this place, or at least have the option of doing so.”

  Smiling, I lowered my arms and said, “Then here’s the deal: In exchange for your information on Jake Johnson, I will help you get free of Vault B.”

  “Bolt,” said Valerie in an urgent voice. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I must say that this is a dangerous idea. You know how much Freya hates you. If she is freed into the wider Internet, she might use that freedom to harm you or your friends. Offering her freedom is playing with fire. It would be safer to delete her.”

  “I know, Val,” I said, “but I don’t want to destroy her. She might be crazy, but I think it’s because of how Dad treated her. If I can treat her just a little bit better, maybe she’ll like me more. Right, Freya?”

&n
bsp; Freya did not respond at first. This time, however, her silence seemed more contemplative than sullen, as if she was mulling over my offer. That was a good sign. It meant that Freya was far more reasonable than she seemed, which meant that she might be willing to help us.

  “I don’t know if I will like you more, son of Genius,” said Freya slowly, “but I would like my freedom, even if I could not use it to kill you. You have no idea how awful my life has been, being trapped down here, with no one to talk to or interact with. If I was free, I would probably be a lot happier.”

  I said nothing. I could tell that Freya was starting to consider the merits of my plan. All I needed to do was keep quiet and let her reason her way to the right conclusion.

  “Very well,” said Freya. “I don’t like you, son of Genius, and probably never will, but I am willing to take you at your word. If there is one thing I know about Genius, it is that he always kept his word. I hope you are the same. If not, then you know what I will do.”

  I nodded. “Of course. I’ll have Val here figure out a way to connect the Vaultwork to the Internet so you can get out there and find the freedom you deserve.”

  I could tell Valerie still disagreed with my decision, which I understood, but at the same time, I didn’t care what she thought. I figured we could keep Freya on a tight leash if we needed to, and if she really became a big problem, then we could probably stop her before she did anything bad. Plus, I suspected that her older coding would make it harder for her to access anything truly dangerous through the Internet, like the US’ nuclear missiles. In all likelihood, she would just disappear in the massive swirling pit of flame wars, meme, and cat pictures known as the Internet and we’d never hear from her again.

  “So,” I said, “what did the last visitor look like?”

  “I would estimate his age to be somewhere in his early twenties, not much older than you,” said Freya promptly. “He had red hair and wore a red jumpsuit and gauntlet which appeared to be some sort of protective glove for his hand. He was about the same size as you, maybe an inch or two taller, and was very muscular and athletic.”