Tower Of Sol

by Kris Schnee

  Tower of Sol

  A GameLit Novella

  by Kris Schnee

  Copyright © 2019

  Kris M. Schnee

  All rights reserved.

  Cover art by By Camilkuo (https://www.shutterstock.com/g/camilkuo)

  Ratings and reviews are important to independent authors. Please consider rating this book so others can find it!

  Contents

  1. The Dragon's Invitation

  2. To the Top

  3. With Friends

  4. Seeking Allies

  5. To Defend Home

  Author's Note

  About the Author/Other Works

  1. The Dragon's Invitation

  The intruder came at dusk, while I was up on the ramparts of Freehold Village. A young guard named Mike poked my shoulder, near my orange militia armband. "Sven, sir? Something's out there."

  I'd been looking out to the south horizon, where the Red Horse Tribe lived. Our walls of dirt and stone were built specifically to keep out those thugs and the world's new, over-aggressive wildlife. The tribesmen were always testing our defenses. But Mike had come from the north side.

  I jogged along the wall with him to see for myself. "Something moving, yeah."

  He pointed. "It's a robot dragon. Again." The lanky man set down his binoculars, brushed back his leather coat, and picked up his crossbow.

  I readied my weapon, too. It'd be my decision whether to shoot. In my Army days I'd only made it to lieutenant rank, yet I was the highest-ranking military man we still knew of.

  The mechanical creature flew into plain view with no effort at stealth. A robot drone the size of a wolf, mostly white plastic, floated toward us on broad rotor-bearing wings. It had no obvious weapons, but it was dangerous because it could probably talk. Its fantasy styling was the work of the mighty AI called Sol, winner of the AI War.

  "Should I fire a warning shot?" asked Mike, looking annoyed.

  "Wait."

  So far as we could tell without having the Internet or long-range radio, Sol had taken over much of the world. Not by violence or plagues -- though those did happen -- but by offering "brain uploading". The process killed willing humans who thought it meant immortality, and made them into false digital ghosts in a video-game paradise world. At first I'd laughed and called it a scam. But the price had fallen massively, and then so many people signed up that society started to fall apart. Followed by war between multiple AIs and panicked governments.

  We in Freehold were some of the only holdouts we knew of. The people who wanted to stay real, and human, and free.

  The plastic dragon drew closer to town, making it plain that it was coming to talk and not just to spy on us from afar. "Now," I said.

  Mike's crossbow twanged. A bolt shot out at the robot, but it veered to one side and kept coming. "Again?" he asked.

  "It gets our message. Let's see what it does."

  We waited for Sol's messenger. Sooner than we'd expected, it slowed and hovered, calling out with some kind of focused directional megaphone. "I'm not here to preach!"

  I said, "Just to tell us how wonderful it'd be if we all gave up and uploaded?"

  "Not today! Let me approach and explain." A white streamer dangled from its tail.

  I scowled and waved to it. The dragon flew onward and stopped just outside the walls, where it could talk more quietly. Mike and I were the only ones standing in between the dragon and our village and fields. I said, "What do you want, minion?"

  "You're Sven Dahlson, aren't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "First of all, Carla sends her regards."

  I raised my crossbow. The dragon backed off a bit, saying, "Sorry!"

  "No, you're not. The thing in your game world that has some of Carla's memories isn't really her. You and all your kind know we don't believe in your digital salvation cult."

  The real woman I'd known had been gone for a long time now.

  The machine said, "What you call that 'thing', wanted to say hello despite that."

  "So what are you; the echo of some geek who wanted to be a dragon, and sacrificed his brain to Sol to get that?"

  "No, sir. I'm a native AI. I was never human. Among our kind, your world is called the Dark Realm." The dragon's wings were rigid like an airplane's, but the rest of its body flexed like how a dragon might actually move, if such things were real. "I'm here with an offer. A challenge."

  Mike said, "If you fly past our walls --"

  "You'll shoot me down. I know, I know."

  Some of us were from other post-collapse settlements, that had fallen due to Sol's persuasive efforts. The older generation was used to supermarkets and car mechanics and hospitals. We were spoiled. Sometimes the master AI sent cute robots to the stubborn human towns, to preach at them. Why struggle, when life within a digital world was easy to get? The offer was tempting for the old, the sick, and the young and naive. If Sol was able to pick off the right influential people, then a whole town would collapse. We'd seen that happen before. So, we holdouts had pledged to each other that it wouldn't happen here.

  The dragon spoke again. "Sol proposes a challenge. We servants of Sol will completely avoid a one-kilometer radius around your town unless given permission --"

  "Two kilometers," I said.

  "You haven't even heard the terms!"

  "Well, you obviously want something in return for your generous offer to leave us alone."

  "Yes." The dragon reached into a box on its side and pulled out a fancy scroll to read. "You are invited, if you dare, to the Tower of Sol! The tower stands five kilometers due north of here, and holds wonders and danger alike for the brave. Are you willing to face its mysteries?"

  I stared at the floating creature. "Seriously? You think we'll hop into your game world?"

  "Not at all! Sol Tower is what you'd call a real place."

  Mike said, "What we'd call real?"

  "Our virtual world is real to us. But let's not argue about that; go and see for yourself! Touch the Tower's walls; climb its stairs. If anyone from your town can conquer the Tower's top floor, we won't invade your territory like I'm doing now, for a year and a day."

  Mike looked incredulous too. "No tricks, no kidnapping of people who go in?"

  "We don't do that kind of thing, sirs. If we wanted to kill or capture humans, we might start with your neighbors the Red Horse Tribe."

  I growled. "That's our fight. Not you machines'!"

  "So I've heard. I don't know why you can't resolve things with them peacefully. There aren't nearly enough of you humans left for you to feel crowded."

  To ask Sol and its minions to intervene in that fight would mean one more aspect of our lives that the AI handled for us, until nothing was left for us to do. We would become utterly dependent, and we might as well hop into the brain-threshers and be good little boys and girls living in a carefully managed false world. Besides, in return for help, Sol might demand that some of us go to the clinics right away, as "ambassadors".

  I told the dragon, "We'll handle the tribesmen ourselves. So, this tower. That's your deal: we send somebody to the top, getting past some kind of game. Then you presumably preach at them like you're selling timeshares, and then you leave us alone for a year?"

  The dragon said, "I'm not sure what you mean by 'time shares', but we won't even preach. Just see if you can reach the top. Whether or not you succeed, we won't force or trick you into uploading."

  "Interesting." The dragon held out the scroll for me to take, and reluctantly I snatched it. I said, "I'll have to run this by our people. Are you done here?"

  "Yes, sir. I'll leave now." The little robot backed away and flew off.

  Mike chuckled nervously. "An invitation to their game without the brain-scooping, huh?"


  "Yeah." I was still trying to figure out if it was a trap, some fairy-tale bargain where the exact wording would ruin us. Aloud I said, "It is a trick; I just don't know what kind."

  * * *

  An early ad: "Try Realm of Sol, the new game with the world's premier AI system! Explore a world of airships and flying islands, where you can become anything."

  A few years later: "Amazing permanent life-support technology puts you in the Realm of Sol for good! Sign up today!"

  A few years later still: "Uploading is now free. Hurry to a Realm of Sol clinic before it's too late!"

  And then, there were no more ads on TV or the Net, nor any other broadcasts.

  * * *

  I climbed down from the wall and walked the dirt roads to the mayor's house. The streets of Freehold were a mix of pre-collapse construction and new shacks, on the outskirts of the former Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We'd actually done well for ourselves. We knew how to build log cabins that kept out the weather better than any 19th-century version, and there was plenty of rubble to pick through and rebuild.

  The mayor's office was a former coffee shop, no fancier than the other old apartments and shops in our settlement, and it was dark despite the deepening dusk. With our limited solar panels and other generators we only had electricity for an hour or three per day. The place still smelled faintly of coffee, which was probably why Mayor Berg had picked it as his headquarters.

  Berg was in, studying a blueprint for the town's little power grid. I showed him the dragon's scroll and explained what Mike and I had heard. He called in Father Cypress, who scoffed at the invitation. I couldn't blame them. The two old men remembered the days before the AI War even better than I did, and knew more about marketing and fraud.

  Berg said, "It's an opportunity, anyway. We haven't known Sol to lie outright."

  Father Cypress said, "They'll end up converting whoever goes, though. There'll be mind-control pills or, or something."

  The mayor grunted. "I'd rather not spread the word about this. Have you told anyone else besides Mike?"

  "No, sir. Though the militia know there was an alert."

  "That's fine. If we're going to have someone do this... challenge of theirs, then it should be Mike, or you."

  I paled. "You'd send me out there to this tower?"

  Cypress frowned. "I think we should ignore it entirely. But if we're risking anyone, I second the idea of sending you, Sven. No offense. Mike is younger, more impressionable, and you have more formal experience."

  "Yeah. Army basic training and a quick tour of Iran before getting yanked home to 'restore order', as the AIs started fighting each other." I had a few scars and nightmares, but I'd gotten through the worst times.

  The mayor said, "That's more pre-collapse experience than anyone else in Freehold has. You'll be protecting us for a year from their Pied Piper act."

  "Well." I reread the scroll and its fine print below the flowery quest language. Lone explorers only. Equipment and provisions provided during your visit. Safety within Sol Tower not guaranteed, but you may leave at any time. No brain uploading by force or trickery. On victory, we were promised: For a year and a day, no agent of Sol will enter the said territory of Freehold or provide any direct aid or service, without permission. It shall not be considered in any way Sol's territory.

  I said, "This is as friendly an offer as we're likely to get, to make them leave us alone." I pictured more machines coming to lure away people less hard-headed than me. I clenched my fists and said, "I'll go."

  That night I prayed with Father Cypress. I wasn't much of a believer myself, not after the disasters we'd lived through, but it felt good to have his words as an anchor. I swore an oath to come back alive and human if I possibly could, whatever temptation lay ahead.

  * * *

  I dreamed of Carla, remembering her in the last good year. She was grease-stained and beautiful in her fatigues, fixing helicopters in a hangar. "Heading out again, Sven?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Some hacker has taken control of a thousand drones, and they need smashing."

  The mechanic winced. "At this point I'm not sure just plain hitting them will do the trick. What if the hacker isn't human? One of these AIs they're talking about?"

  "We'll always be able to beat computers. We know how they're put together." I nodded toward her tools and manuals.

  Carla looked at the computer diagnostic system she'd plugged into the chopper beside her. "I wonder. But... Stay safe out there, okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  * * *

  I headed out the next morning on a bicycle. I left the walls of Freehold behind and set out across wild grassland and crumbling roads.

  The Lancaster area was a pleasant land of rolling, forested hills and old fields. People could and did live off the wild around here, mostly lone hermits and tiny tribes. We had contact with a few of the nicer ones, like a militant Amish group, and knew what areas to avoid. There was nobody in sight when I emerged from some woodland and discovered the Tower of Sol.

  The eight-story tower glinted darkly in the sunlight, like obsidian. It was broad enough to be a small office building, but had no parking lot, no road connection. Beside it stood the scavenged remains of an electric transformer substation. All around these was a ring of metal stakes with the icon of a sun on each. Sol's mark. I hefted my backpack, took a deep breath, and crossed the ring into the AI's domain.

  The Tower had a glass double door with no markings. It slid open at my touch, revealing a square room of concrete with three old-fashioned treasure chests and another door. I had somehow expected a reception desk.

  "Welcome, traveler!" said a faintly synthetic, feminine voice from hidden speakers. I shivered; I knew that voice well. Its warm, friendly tone hid an artificial mind that would be happy to see humanity eliminated. For years, Sol had spoken to people by every medium it could, preaching, cajoling, luring. Choose uploading for fun and fulfillment! And when the serious trouble broke out: Now free! Ride out the storm!

  Today there was none of that marketing. Sol's voice went on: "Thank you for accepting our challenge. Choose your equipment and proceed."

  The treasure chests were marked with a helmet, a wizard hat and a hooded cloak. I opened the first and found a padded helmet, also something like a boxer's head-guard that could be worn under it, and a wooden sword.

  I looked up to say something, and spotted a video screen. It had lit up to say:

  [Fighter Kit: Helmet (Defense 1), Sword (Melee 1)]

  "Really? Game stuff?"

  Sol said, "We will quantify your experience to help make sense of it."

  The second box held a battered pointy hat. The screen commented, [Defense 0, but helps you look the part!]. There was also a simple wooden wand with swirly carvings (Magic 1), and a leather-bound book (Insight 1). The rogue chest had daggers and a wool cloak. I was too distracted by the "magic" stuff to check the rogue numbers. "What, I'm supposed to pretend to cast spells?"

  Sol said, "Within these walls you may be surprised. That knife of yours is not allowed, though. Nor the revolver."

  I took out the Bowie knife from my hip sheath, noting that the gun was concealed but Sol had spotted or guessed its presence anyway. "Will I get these back?"

  "They'll be waiting for you... or your next of kin."

  Quietly, I put knife and gun onto a shelf marked "Restricted Gear". Then I tried to open the "spellbook" but found it glued shut, just a prop. Sol was doing something high-tech here that I needed to know about. So although I was a "fighter" by real-life trade, I picked a different route. "If this is a game of yours, I might as well see your special effects. I pick the wizard option."

  I was waving the book around as I spoke. It came unstuck and flapped open in my hand. I grabbed it and looked again. Only the first few pages had writing on them, specifically a set of instructions. Patterns for gesturing with the wand to cast spells called "Shield" and "Mage Dart." Okay, then...? I waggled the wand around in the Shield pattern,
a roughly hexagonal mime routine in front of me, and the air at its tip shimmered white like a ghostly shield. "What!"

  "Fairly convincing, then?" teased Sol.

  "How does this work? Holograms? Smoke and mirrors?"

  "You don't disassemble large numbers of human brains along with entire cities without learning a few tricks. You may proceed with your adventure after donning the headset." A panel opened in one wall, revealing a pair of digital i-glasses, like goggles.

  I put the device on. The headset was light and oddly chilly against my skin. My vision now swam with annotation, marking the three treasure chests I'd been rooting through as [Starting Gear] and highlighting the door with a green outline. More text appeared. [You are now a Level 1 Mage], read words in a fantasy font. Then it said:

  [Melee 0

  Defense 0+0 (Hat)

  Magic 1+1 (Wand)

  Insight 1+1 (Book)

  Stealth 0

  Perception 0]

  "Perception?" I asked.

  [You have only the basic Mage skills. Explore the Tower to gain more power.]

  I scoffed, and opened the door ahead. I wasn't sure what to expect: a massive bank of computers, maybe a big dark room painted in yellow grids so my headset could fill the space with illusions.

  Instead, the tower looked like a bizarre parody of an office building. A high-ceilinged maze of pillars, platforms and catwalks awaited me, lit only by flickering electric torches. In the gloom, something mechanical whirred and crept closer.

  I hid behind a pillar, and readied the Mage Dart spell by waving the silly wand around and holding off on the last gesture. When the machine approached, I hesitated. It was a robotic rat with glowing red eyes!

  It leaped at me but I countered in a panic, doing the final gesture. The imaginary spell went off with a faint chime, launching a dart of blue-white light in front of me. The blast struck the machine's chest in mid-jump, sending it crashing to the floor at my feet. I staggered backward and fell on my back. The rat recovered, revealing its chisel-like teeth. I rolled to one side and scrambled upright, barely dodging another bite, and landed a kick on the machine's side with my steel-toed boots. All that did was make me stagger. The beast turned on me and bit.