by Curtis Hox
“Thank you, Mrs. Ogilvey,” Yancey said. “Tell him ... we’ll all do our duties when the time comes.”
The older woman nodded, then left.
Simone stood in the middle of the room, all the students’ eyes on her.
Kimberlee looked at her arm. “What’s this thing he put on my arm? I can’t see it.”
“It means you’re their property,” Simone said, “as far as Cyberspace goes. It means you can’t be owned by any Rogues or weirdo Interfacer kidnappers out there. It’ll pretty much let you go wherever you want in Cyberspace—not that any of us besides Wally and Joss hotjack. Each one of those is worth several million dollars on the black market.”
“Several million?” Kimberlee asked, rubbing her wrist.
Wally smiled. “I never thought I’d get one.”
“We’re all part of the club now,” Simone said. “For better or worse.”
Everyone scanned their arms, as if they might see the brands there.
Keila glanced at the students as if she feared what had been done to them. “What if you’re wrong, Agent Wellborn? What if we can’t defeat them?”
“The RAIs are our biggest threat,” Yancey said. “They’re the supreme example of human ingenuity gone wrong. We have to defeat them—”
“And the entities you summon? What are they?”
“Allies. They worship us and provide service. We must use them in our great fight—”
“Stop with the speech. I’ve heard it. I want to know if your fringe beliefs are going to get these kids killed, or worse.”
Yancey moved to Simone’s side and pulled her close. “We must meet the challenge any way we can, otherwise the Rogues win.” Simone could see that Keila was on the verge of understanding, but refused to admit it. Yancey continued. “What if the RAIs are more than they seem, Keila? What if the radical think tanks are right? The Consortium lies and says they’re just computer programs to not scare the people. It’s easier to believe the Rogues are just smart software than to think they’re disembodied intelligences.”
“So you think they could be alien?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we opened the doors for the SAIs and RAIs, and we must master them, or become their slaves.”
Keila nodded to Simone. “Doesn’t your mother ever take those shades off?”
“Of course,” Simone said, “but only at home.”
Keila shook her head. “They’re just kids.”
“I know.” Yancey clapped. “Who wants ice cream?”
Hutto perked up. “What does this mean for the school year? Will we get to skip class?”
“You’ll be in school, all right, but you’ll have a few different classes from everyone else. It’ll be fun. You’ll see. But that’s a month away, and a lot can happen in a month.”
She led them out of the office, through the foam-filled room, and into the south corridor of the main campus building. Tables with ice cream had been setup. It was Friday night. No one was leaving campus. And all the summer camp students locked up were as happy as they could be with spoons of ice cream at their mouths. The hallway was crowded and full of anxious noise, as if they were waiting for a party to start.
Simone watched her mother mingle—one minute the warrior goddess, the next a suave diplomat. A few minutes later a cheer erupted, and she saw Joss Beckwith leave the clinic. He looked as white as a ghost and shaky as hell, but the brands were gone. He was still deformed and couldn’t walk right, but that could be repaired. As long as the Rogues didn’t have him …
Everyone paused when he said, “They’re going to treat me. It may take weeks, but they said they can fix me.”
Again the cheer. Simone’s mother beamed like some futuristic superhero in silver bringing her brand of justice to the world. Only Simone knew what she really wanted: to leave the Bodysuit, the shades, and the nanobots behind and become more powerful than Simone’s lords. She wanted to be disembodied. Simone hated the idea. She liked having a body, and a mother. And the thought a human could be equal the lords sounded like the worst form of heresy. It sounded like her mother’s heresy.
* * *
“Hey, Rigon,” Simone said as he approached. She waited toward the middle of the hall, where it was quiet and she could be alone. He had changed out of his bloody shirt and had put a new bandage on his arm. “Does it hurt?”
“No worse than a bee sting.”
“I heard what you did saving Keila. You’re a hero.”
“That’s my job.” He smiled at her like he always did, as if she were his hero.
She hated the fact her mother and her brother always fought. If her father were alive, he’d fix that. She knew they both still loved each other, but jeez, they looked like they wanted to shoot each other most of the time.
“She’s been waiting for this for years,” he said. “Mom always gets what she wants. Come on, let’s talk in private.”
They walked farther down the hallway, away from the mingling students by the tables. Everyone had heard about the official Consortium brands and what the government had offered the Alters. Hutto looked like the superstar he would probably become and already seemed to relish his new role as the football team’s current hero. Even Kimberlee looked happy to be getting so much attention. Beasley stood at the end of a table and ate from a carton, while Wally stood on the table and ate from a small cup. They all appeared thrilled by the opportunity.
Then why do I feel like so bad?
Her brother saw it. “You know why I branded the back of your neck?”
“No.”
“I think you’re going to do it, Simone.”
“Do it?”
“If any of them can, it’ll be you who figures out how to use your gifts. And I want you to be able to hide your brand if you need to. It’s just a gesture, of course. You can’t really hide your brand. But don’t get lost chasing power. No matter what our mother says.”
“I won’t. I promise. The lords are—”
Rigon put a finger to her lips. “Not now. I can’t hear any more of that nonsense.”
Simone nodded. He was about the strongest, toughest, most reliable person she knew. He was the pinnacle of human technological invention. He could do things that would have looked like magic even twenty years ago. He was Homo cybernetics, but he was still human. He loved her and gave her warmth and comfort when she needed it, even though she knew he had been on the front lines and stared at the worst the Great Enemies had thrown at humankind. She was proud of her brother for facing them. But I think you’re wrong, Rigon, she thought. You’ve denied the entities inside you. I know you have. I know you chose to become … a cyborg. A machine man. And I know it has to do with the fact Dad is gone and all that happened with Jonen. But what Mom and I can do is real, and it’s important, and you’ll never understand.
The enemies, according to him, were the many forms of the Rogue AIs and their human Rogueslaves who did everything in their power to further their masters’ agendas. Simone conceptualized the Rogues as just a mask hiding a larger, more powerful (and less understandable) enemy: the Great Enemies, the Lords of Unreason, the Void Lords, etc. Either way, she knew the Rogues wanted to make humans into vermin so that they could stomp on humanity whenever they wanted. She wondered if her mother was correct that the actual scientific classification of what the Great Enemies were didn’t matter. If more incursions happened, things would be much worse, regardless of what anyone called them. Her mother and brother certainly didn’t agree on that small point. Her mother said all the technology her brother possessed would matter little if the Great Enemies incarnated here in mass. She said the only way to combat them was to be able to move between substrates: the physical and the mental.
“And that is why we use the entities and why your brother doesn’t,” her mother always said.
Simone sighed and tried to quit thinking about these difficult subjects. But the thought of her entities, her Lords of Reason, filled her with peace. She knew
all she had to do was begin the mantras her mother had taught her and find a place where she could move through the steps of her psy-katas. Her entities would come like guardian angels. They would fill her with peace and strength so that she could face any difficulty. At least they had always come before ... .
Down the hall, Hutto was doing one-armed handstands and earning raucous encouragement.
“He remind you of anyone?” Rigon asked.
“Except he’s a bonehead, and you’re not,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”
“I don’t have any cash.”
“Were you and Mom always so different?”
“Mom was always like you. I wasn’t.”
“You just knew how to interface with computers?”
“Yes, but she wanted me ... to learn to do what you two do. What Dad did.”
“She’s no Interfacer, like you.”
“She has some rudimentary interfacing skills. But she can’t go anywhere as deep as I can. But Mom has gifts, valuable gifts, as do you. We’re all Wellborns. Remember that.”
“But people accept you. She and I are considered freaks.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. But some of them down the hall there do have real problems.”
She knew he was talking about Hutto and Beasley, and maybe Kimberlee. “The world thinks we’re monsters.”
“Not at all,” he replied. “The bad things out there that we created, or the RAIs created, or the aliens, whoever, they’re the monsters. And they should be destroyed because they’re dangerous. But you Alters are something else. Mom and you will have to be examples.”
“What about Joss?” Simone asked.
Rigon remained impassive behind his shades. “Who knows what he can do. But I’m sure he’s got potential.”
Simone leaned in. “Kimberlee’s my friend, but she’s so scared of what she is.”
“She should be.”
“What can the Consortium do for a Succubus?”
“Hmm …”
“Isn’t this going to help us control—”
Now it was his turn to move in. “I want you to understand something. The Consortium has a history of using and tossing people like Kimberlee aside. I’ve seen it happen. It’s not pretty. But some smart people think the Alters can be put to better use. I’m not so sure. All I know is you have to listen to Mom and do what she says and use whatever you can to stay safe. That’s it. Stay safe.”
He looked at her in that still way she knew meant he was scanning her. She knew he could see into her, could read every blood vessel and soft tissue, identify any genetic markers, even though she believed he would find nothing that would reveal the source of her mysterious lords. She wondered what he was looking at, as he lingered longer than normal.
“What?” she asked
He opened his mouth, as if he might say something. “Nothing. Just stay close to Mom in the days ahead.”
“I will.” After a pause, she asked, “What about them? They haven’t learned anything about themselves. Mom has been preparing me all my life.”
“They’ll have to learn quick, won’t they?”
“Why is that?”
Her brother patted her on the arm. “You’ll know soon enough.” He straightened. “I have to go.”
He blew her a kiss, then walked away.
* * *
Simone watched Principal Smalls usher the students away from her mother. Simone assumed it was because of her form-fitting, silver Consortium Bodyglove and metallic Mirrorshades, items most of the students ogled and some even asked to touch. Simone also watched Rigon waiting with his team down by the clinic. Keila and Mr. Vaughn had retreated to faculty housing, where the school always kept a few furnished suites for the Association Council.
Ralph and a few other annoyed maintenance guys walked into the clinic to clean it up. She realized everyone’s Friday night was over. Her mother and brother talked briefly, nodded to each other; then Rigon left without a hug.
Here comes the talk, Simone thought, as her mother approached.
Simone crossed her arms and prepared to dig in, expecting a tongue-lashing over her reckless denunciation of Joss as a child of the Dark Void and all that.
Instead, her mother removed her shades and rubbed her eyes. Simone could see the mirror-like reflection behind her irises that meant her optic nerves and retinas had been upgraded. It didn’t dehumanize her, no, but at odd moments, when the light glimmered just right, you’d see two flashes of solid, flat, golden circles looking back at you. For a moment or two, you’d be confused. Were you looking at a human or a machine, or a hybrid? She knew the answer. Her mother and brother and the fortunate others with intellect packages who’d extended their consciousnesses to merge with intelligent cybernetic data systems were the new power brokers in society. Their enemies called them cyborgs and their friends called them Cybertranshumans. They were on the front lines of every important battle being fought in the name of humanity. And her mother, with her own gifts, was one of the most powerful, if controversial.
Because she’s also an Altertranshuman.
“Sometimes I forget to take these data access shades off,” her mother said. “Let me look at you.”
She bent over, face to face with her daughter. Simone saw what she imagined herself to be one day: attractive enough, smart as can be, and driven. Her mother pulled Simone in and embraced her.
“You didn’t do that to Rigon,” she said. “I bet he still likes hugs.”
Her mother smiled. “He didn’t, either.”
“Why do you guys have to fight?”
“We don’t really fight.” Relenting, she said, “We just stand on different sides of most issues. He’s such a ... charming philistine.”
“He loves you.”
“Of course he does. We’re family.”
“Wellborns.”
“The last of us.”
Simone’s mother referred to her dead brother, Jonen. Simone never knew him; he’d been killed in a glad fight before she was born. Also, Skippard Wellborn, the father she barely remembered and the pioneer in creating the techno Rupture, was gone. And her mother and Rigon never talked about them. Never.
Simone considered stamping her foot and demanding to know everything. Why was she being recruited? How long would it last? What did being an Alter really mean? And why were the others involved?
“Come on,” Yancey said.
They found two empty seats by the administration offices. The hallways were deserted now but the lights remained on, as they would all night. Simone looked back up the hall toward the clinic. “What’s that thing down there that came out of Joss?”
Her mother toyed with her glasses. “Something very unpleasant.” She grasped one of her daughter’s hands in hers. “These types of rapid ... fabricators have been appearing all over the world for the last ten years. They gain entrance to our world through mistakes like Mr. Beckwith’s. I have spent almost every waking hour tracking these things and destroying what comes out of them.”
“You’re always gone. You like to travel—”
“My job is to manage what emerges before it can take root. Rigon’s job has been to handle my failures. His job is much harder. And that’s why he’s so concerned about Sterling. And why I am always gone.”
“What’s going to happen here, Mom? Why don’t we leave?”
“It’s not that simple. You’re part of it, dear.”
“What?”
“When Joss woke up with those brands, everyone here became involved. The Rogues see all.”
“I did talk to him.”
“Sure you did.” Her mother grinned with what looked like pride. “And that’s why I’m here. You’ve become a person of interest, dear.”
Her mother scanned her like Rigon had done, and she knew, just knew, her mother saw something frightening.
“I’m—”
“Have the lords spoken to you since you visited that boy?”
Simone thought bac
k to the last time she’d been in the ball. They’d said nothing. A moment of panic seized her. She grabbed her belly, as if she’d eaten too much ice cream, the anxiety that her lords had abandoned her too much to bear. Her mother saw it and put an arm around her daughter.
“I didn’t think so,” her mother said.
“But I ... just went to talk to him.”
Her mother released her. Simone recognized the posture of tough love her mother seemed to always adopt. “What have I always told you?”
“When in the presence of the irrational, use the mantras and katas.”
“They provide bulwarks against the seen—”
“—and unseen.”
“But first?”
“Avoid contact.”
Simone realized her mistake: She’d assumed she’d had protection when talking to Joss. “What about everyone else who talked to him?”
“Oh, all of Sterling is in danger as well, but it doesn’t matter for them like it does for our Alters, for you. We’ll have to watch them. But an Alter of your caliber … well, the Rogues are salivating to get their fangs in you. You’re a Wellborn, dear.”
Simone’s breath caught in her chest at the look her mother gave her. I’m a target. The tears welled from the frustration of not communing with the lords, of her mother’s arrival and announcement, of what she’d just learned.
“It gets worse, dear,” her mother said. “You might want to save those tears for when you really need them.”
Simone looked up at the cruelest person in the world. “Worse?”
“Yes, dear. I’m pretty sure they’ll come for you tonight.”
* * *
Yancey knew she was pushing her daughter, and pushing hard, because Little-Miss-Know-It-All and all-around terror Simone Wellborn thought she was a princess but had no idea she had been marked by the Rogues. Rigon had verified it, and even with Yancey’s limited interfacing abilities, she could still see the imprimaturs the nanobots had left on her daughter. All the trouble she’d caused in the last few years boiled down to this night-of-nights when her daughter would learn why her mother had been so hard on her and why she’d followed her husband down this thorny path. But her daughter looked like she might crack.
