The Accidental Hero

by Matt Myklusch

  Jack didn’t think it was possible, but Smart’s additional tests soon had him longing for more sheets of SmartPaper filled with thousands of rude questions. True to his word, Smart didn’t try to dissect Jack, but the tests he had in mind were no walk in SeasonStill Park. Jack had figured he’d be sleigh riding in Winterwind Way or swimming down at the Summershore Stretch by now. No such luck. Instead, he had to stay after school.

  The whole experience did at least give Jack some insight into how Jonas Smart thought. The more Jack saw of Jonas Smart, the more Jack thought maybe he wasn’t the smartest guy in town after all. Jack never had any problems with his infection or heard any Rüstov voices in his head. He never even knew about his infection. In a sense, he was the only one beating the Rüstov. If he were to get really good at using his powers, maybe he could help beat the whole bunch of Rüstov once and for all. It was pretty obvious to Jack. If Smart weren’t so busy making everybody afraid of Jack, he’d see it too.

  But Jack could tell that Smart saw the world differently. He saw the world as a disorganized, chaotic place in need of a hyperintelligent person like him to simplify it. He didn’t think, he knew that everything had its place. A job to do. A role to fulfill. Smart knew that everything had a category it fit into neatly and never moved from. “There is an order that must be preserved,” Smart told Jack while strapping him into a lab chair. “Think of the world like a mathematical equation. We don’t ask mathematical truths to be something other than what they are, do we? No, there is only one correct answer to balance the scales of any given problem. Things must be how they must be. We cannot change that. We must accept that.”

  Smart lived his life by numbers. “Numbers don’t change and numbers don’t lie,” he told Jack. Smart trusted only his experiments and inventions. His machines spit out answers based on hard data, and he did whatever they said, because he didn’t make machines that made mistakes.

  It amazed Jack that someone like Smart could be so closed-minded. How could an inventor, in this of all places, be so lacking in imagination? Smart claimed to love logic and reason, but he didn’t even seem to think for himself. It appeared he was happy to let his machines do that for him.

  Jack could see that even without the Rüstov infection, Smart would have disliked him because of the effect he had on machines. Smart’s Total Personality Test should have categorized him as a Rüstov and recommended immediate termination. Smart “proved” long ago that no biological organism could withstand a Rüstov parasite for longer than five minutes. Yet here Jack was, showing no adverse effects or symptoms of any kind. People like Jack upset the natural order of things. Jack was a set of numbers that didn’t add up. He came along, and simple things that Smart knew to be true were suddenly false. Jack came along, and suddenly 2 + 2 equaled 458.

  “We’re going to find out if it was your powers or the parasite that affected my test,” Smart said. “Are the Rüstov adapting to my methods of detection? I need to know.”

  Smart took a vial of Jack’s blood to run some old-fashioned lab work. He couldn’t run it through his hightech machines, for fear that the blood might corrupt the system. Jack’s blood had crashed his history file back at the Hall of Records pretty easily, and Smart was not about to put his precious mainframe at risk. As for the tests, Smart told Jack he wanted to observe his reaction to a number of different machines in stressful situations. He ordered Jack not to try and take control of the machines, no matter what was happening. “We’re going to gauge the levels and limits of your powers by observing your reaction to negative stimuli.”

  “Negative stimuli?” Jack asked.

  “Electroshocks,” Smart explained.

  “Electroshocks?” Jack cried out. “Are you serious?” Jack struggled to get free of his chair, but he was strapped down.

  “Be still!” Smart ordered. “And don’t question my methods. Impertinent youth,” Smart muttered once Jack had stopped fighting.

  Smart hooked electrodes up to Jack and began the experiment. If he had wanted to be honest with Jack, he could have called it what it really was—an interrogation. Smart asked Jack question after question, and whenever he didn’t like the answer (which was quite often), he gave Jack a shock in the arm, belly, or neck.

  Smart was relentless.

  “Did you really battle Revile?” BZZT! “Where is he now?” BZZT.’ “Are you leading him here to the Imagine Nation?” BZZT.’

  No matter what the question was, Jack got a shock. He even got a shock for telling Smart that his favorite color was blue. Eventually, he couldn’t take anymore, and he shorted out the machine. He didn’t mean to do it. It just happened.

  “But did it really ‘just happen’?” Smart asked. “Did your powers activate to protect you, or did the Rüstov act to protect its host?”

  There was only one way to find out. Jack was ordered to report back the next day for more tests.

  Jack was having second thoughts about the deal he had made with Smart. What exactly had he gotten himself into? He had to wonder if Smart was planning to accidentally kill him in a lab accident. Whoops, I guess now we know we can’t give Jack a hundred thousand volts of electricity.… Oh well! Might as well dissect him now.

  When Jack filled Jazen in on everything after they left the lab, Jazen said he was pretty sure that wasn’t Smart’s plan, if only because it would have required Smart to act like he had made a mistake. Jazen thought Jack had made the right decision. Now he at least had an outside chance of getting Smart’s vote.

  Jack found it funny how things were working out. So far, Jack’s School of Thought report card had two incompletes. He had gotten less than he expected from Stendeval, and more than he expected from Smart. Jack didn’t see that coming. Nothing in the Imagine Nation was ever what you might expect.

  By the time Jack got back to the Ivory Tower, he was fried. He wanted to go check out SeasonStill Park, but he was too tired. He collapsed onto a couch and opted to do some reading instead about the machines of the Imagine Nation. He managed to get one of Smart’s books to help with that after all. The book was Smart’s autobiography, called Jonas Smart: Man of the Future.

  Jack didn’t really expect to get much out of it, but was still curious to read what kind of stuff Smart put into his SmartPaper-powered book. Jack stared at the “start” button on the cover. After a minute or so of intense concentration, Jack managed to turn the book on with his powers. “Nice,” Jack said to himself, and started scrolling through the pages by hand.

  JONAS SMART: MAN OF THE FUTURE

  AS TOLD BY JONAS SMART

  Dear reader,

  You have made a wise decision by purchasing this book. What follows is a detailed description of the accounts of my life. Who I am, and how I came to be. In short, what makes me… me. If you are lucky and work extremely hard (reading this book more than once and purchasing several copies), you will find qualities to emulate and, in time, become more like me.

  At the time of this writing I am honored to be the most senior member of the Inner Circle. The residents of Hightown voted me to this seat shortly after the Rüstov invasion, and I have been shaping Imagine Nation policy ever since that day. As you are almost certainly aware, my superior intellect helped divine the treacherous nature of the Rüstov attack and the identity of the Great Collaborator. At the time, I was known only as a rising young industrialist. I was a brilliant inventor and innovator with no combat training or battle-ready abilities, but my brain proved to be a superpower unto itself. My mind was my weapon. Even today, I am not a fighter. I am a thinker. More importantly for the people of Empire City, as my life story proves quite conclusively, I am a survivor.

  Years ago, I was diagnosed with a terminal heart condition. Countless transplant attempts failed, each one condemning me to die. A lesser man would have turned to despair, but I did not sit around waiting for a fatal heart attack to end my life. Using my TimeScope, I uncovered a cure perfected many years in the future and acted upon that information: I had
my heart surgically removed.

  After my heart was cut out of my chest, its functions were duplicated by a series of magnetic implants placed throughout my body. I now ingest iron-rich supplements that magnetize my blood and circulate it through my veins. A radical solution, to be sure, but no one can argue with the results.

  We must not be afraid of going to extremes in order to ensure the future of our great nation, because our secret war against the Rüstov still wages on Who knows how many Rüstov Left-Behinds are still hiding on Wrekzaw Isle, waiting? Waiting and plotting! Luckily, I have been able to properly protect our borders from the Rüstov Armada so far.

  The people of Empire City have me to thank for the Peacemaker security forces that keep us safe. Some say the Peacemakers are too violent and too reckless. The same critics argue that my SmartCam surveillance program is an infringement upon theoretical rights of freedom and privacy. I ask you: How can people expect privacy and freedom if we are to preserve safety and order? We must remain vigilant against our foes. To be anything less is to be Anti-Imagine Nation

  With Legend gone, killed by Revile, and with Stendeval missing, probably off hiding somewhere… the people have turned to one man to make sure they live to see tomorrow. They have turned to me. I am Jonas Smart, the man of the future, and I will not let you down.

  Next chapter: Is Jonas Smart always right? Turn the page and find out! Hint: The answer is yes!

  When Jack could stomach no more, he turned off the book. He could hardly believe it, but Skerren hadn’t been kidding when he’d called Smart heartless. The man literally had no heart!

  Jack thought that made Smart even scarier. There was no reasoning with Jonas Smart—he dealt only in absolutes. Smart considered Jack to be a Rüstov, and wanted him dead because of it. Meanwhile, Jack knew the Rüstov wanted him dead too, and if the NewsNets were to be believed, they’d followed him here to finish the job. Jack could only guess what their reasons were, and hoped that if there really were Left-Behinds in Empire City, that Revile wasn’t with them.

  Jack tossed Smart’s book into a corner. “How’d I end up with the worst possible enemies on both sides of this war?” he wondered aloud.

  Just lucky, I guess, Jack thought.

  Jack shook his head and forced out a laugh. He didn’t really find it funny, though. He knew the real answer was hidden in his own lost history, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—out there knew exactly what it was.

  CHAPTER

  10

  Virtua’s Reality

  The following day once again brought news of Rüstov activity. Reports of Left-Behind sightings were now coming in from all six boroughs of Empire City. Jazen broke the news to Jack over breakfast, stressing that he didn’t necessarily believe all these reports were grounded in fact. Even so, Jack could tell the city’s reaction to them was real enough. As Jack ate breakfast in the Ivory Tower loft, a SmartNews anchorman was droning on in the background about preparations for a second Rüstov invasion getting under way:

  “This morning in Hightown, Circleman Jonas Smart launched a petition to return his Peacemaker security teams to post-invasion force levels. The Circleman promised to do whatever is necessary to protect this city, and urged all loyal citizens of the Imagine Nation to give the measure their full support.” The newscaster turned to his cohost. “Seems like a no-brainer to me,” he said.

  “Absolutely,” his perky female cohost agreed. “Maybe next we can do something about that infected boy who’s causing all this trouble,” she added brightly.

  Jazen scowled at the holo-screen from his seat at the kitchen table. “Unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s a couple of no-brainers for you right there behind the news desk,” he added.

  “I don’t know,” Jack replied. “Everyone I’ve met here seems to share their opinion. I’m actually starting to wonder about all this myself,” he admitted.

  Jazen looked at Jack. “You are? What are you talking about?”

  Jack looked up from his cereal. “Let’s be real for a minute, Jazen. You don’t think it’s possible that I have some connection to the Rüstov?” he asked. “They already came after me once. I am infected with their technovirus… what if these things are here because of me?”

  Jazen shook his head. “You’ve been watching too much SmartNews,” he said. “You know they only report Jonas Smart’s side of any story. No one that matters is going to take this seriously. Trust me.” Jazen was about to change the channel when a videophone call came in, overtaking the holo-screen. It was Virtua. She wanted to talk to Jack about the recent spike in Rüstov activity. Immediately.

  Jack gave Jazen an I told you so look. “You were saying?”

  Jazen just frowned uncomfortably.

  Not looking to keep the Circlewoman waiting, Jack and Jazen quickly struck off for Machina, home to robots, androids, and other artificial intelligence. Jack found the borough to be like one big machine. It was filled with gleaming, clean buildings, each one glowing with data flow. The buildings’ pointed peaks were capped with flashing lights, and the tower shafts all had a smooth metallic sheen with minimal design and decoration. Jack thought the streets were so clean, he could eat off them—not that there was any food in the borough. There weren’t any signs or advertising messages cluttering up the landscape either. Instead, coded messages flashed nonstop at lightning speed in ones and zeroes on the sides of Machina’s buildings. Everything, everywhere—all the machines—were alive and talking, communicating with one another. Their words hit Jack’s ears like an off-key orchestra blaring out noise that he could only partly understand.

  One thing Jack understood right away was that he had a lot in common with the Mechas. The SmartCams that followed him everywhere he went were all over Machina, watching every inch of the borough.

  “And I thought I had no privacy,” Jack said to Jazen as they made their way through the borough. Jazen explained that the excessive SmartCams were holdovers from the Peacemaker occupation days that followed the Rüstov invasion, after the Great Collaborator was revealed to be a Mecha. As Jack and Jazen walked through the streets, Jack noticed several SmartCorp buildings and SmartCorp-owned businesses. He told Jazen that he was surprised to find Smart had such a strong presence in the other boroughs.

  “Smart owns property everywhere,” Jazen told him. “His business is especially strong here in Machina, though. It’s hard for people here to say no to the deals he puts together.”

  “Because he’s the smartest man in the world?” Jack asked with a trace of sarcasm.

  “No, because Mechas that don’t agree to his terms generally find themselves being investigated as possible Rüstov conspirators,” Jazen said grimly. “I guess you can relate to that, though,” he added.

  “You think that’s what Virtua is worried about?” Jack asked, remembering the way Smart had threatened her during the vote in the sphere. “You think she’s having second thoughts about siding with me on Dedication Day?”

  “I can’t imagine Circlewoman Virtua ever backing down against Smart,” Jazen replied. “Then again, I never imagined you’d get summoned to her data center like this either, so who knows?”

  As soon as Jazen said the word “data center,” a streetlight scanned him and Jack up and down. When the scan was complete, a computer chime sounded and a holo-image of a Mecha robot appeared before them.

  “Hello. Welcome to Machina,” the image said. “I am Shortcut, your help agent. It appears you are trying to find port DCv26/27, data center of the Circlewoman Virtua. May I be of assistance?”

  Jazen thanked Shortcut but declined his offer, saying he knew the way well enough. The help agent’s image vanished from sight. For the moment. A few blocks later, Shortcut appeared again.

  “Hello again,” the image said. “I am Shortcut, your help agent. Are you sure you don’t need me to—”

  “No,” Jazen said, cutting Shortcut off. “Thank you, we’re fine. Really.” Shortcut nodded
and blinked away again with a smile on his face. Unable to take a hint, he reappeared one last time a few blocks down the road.

  “I don’t mean to be a bother, but perhaps I could just—”

  “NO!” Jack and Jazen yelled, having run out of patience with the program’s bothersome interruptions.

  Shortcut straightened up, clearly offended. “Well! If that’s your attitude, forget it,” he said before vanishing for the third and final time. Jazen and Jack just shook their heads. They got along fine without Shortcut. It wasn’t long before they were standing outside Virtua’s physical home—the data center. Jack was nervous about going in. He knew Virtua had stuck her neck out for him when she had voted against his execution and dissection. She couldn’t be happy with the way that was coming back to bite her, with all these Rüstov sightings popping up in the news.

  Jack entered Virtua’s home and was overwhelmed by what he saw. All around, at least a hundred holo-screens floated about, circling the air like carousel horses. Lights, images, codes, and information flashed on the screens and servers at blinding speed, too fast to read unless you were a Mecha. For Jack, it was like staring at a strobe light. At least seven images of Virtua glided through the air. The many Virtuas were looking at the many screens at the same time, drawing videos out from the walls and expanding some screens, while minimizing others and sending them to the background. An additional projection of the Circlewoman generated at the door as Jack entered.

  “Welcome, Jazen… Hello, Jack,” she said. “You may wish to enter slowly and give your eyes a moment to adjust.”

  It was already too late for that. Jack’s eyes spun like slot machine dials, and he leaned against Jazen for support. He struggled to find his balance as the data center assaulted his senses and a kaleidoscope of sound and color bombarded him with a merciless information overload. Flying tangital holo-screens launched a rapid-fire barrage of video clips. Free-flowing Wi-Fi data feeds ghosted through the air on their way to mechanical eyes and ears that could better see and hear them.