Stones: Theory (Stones #4)

by Jacob Whaler

  Diego turns to his right, so his face is in full profile. “That’s Jing-wei’s area of expertise. I’ll switch you back to her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jing-wei’s face materializes, momentarily occupying the same space as Diego’s, and Ryzaard smiles at the mixed features.

  “You had a question about the freedom camps?” Jing-wei turns back from her left and stares ahead.

  “Bring me up to date.” Ryzaard’s breath slowly moves in and out of his lower abdomen as he stares ahead through the semi-transparent image of Jing-wei.

  “A few freedom camps were liquidated by our security forces some time ago, resulting in high casualty rates worldwide. All Mesh reports were suppressed.” She blinks and looks down at her slate. “Soon after, all remaining freedom camps were voluntarily disbanded. A loose organization still exists, and they still abhor technology of any kind. They even have a special word for it. Abomination. They don’t carry jaxes. They stay away from the Mesh. And now they’re thinly spread out in both rural and urban areas. A very difficult target.”

  “How are they communicating with each other?”

  “We assume it’s word of mouth.” Jing-wei’s finger reaches up to brush the blue jewel behind her ear. “To be honest, we’re not sure. A few of them may have unregistered jaxes. They seem to have access to a network of fake IDs, enabling movement between countries.”

  “Have you had any more luck with infiltrators or informers?”

  Jing-wei looks up. “The short answer is no. The Children no longer recruit or accept new members.”

  Ryzaard’s eyebrows jump up. “The Children?”

  “The people of the old freedom camps call themselves the Children.”

  “Children of what?”

  “We don’t know.” Jing-wei’s holo shifts from left to right. “Since the last attacks on their camps, they’ve become more closed. They no longer openly discuss their views or advertise their presence or their ideology. They’ve been instructed to melt into society, in many cases taking jobs and working in companies alongside their non-Children peers.” She leans closer to Ryzaard. “They seem to be hunkering down. Focusing on survival.”

  “No matter. When we reach 99.9% saturation, it will be clear enough who the Children are.” Ryzaard lets his mind recede into the Stones as he moves away. His words fade like whispers in a thunderstorm. “Then we will deal with them directly.”

  Without listening for a reply from Jing-wei, he thinks of deep space where the control node is a glossy blue sphere floating above the planetary network. As its image passes through his mind, he’s already floating in darkness looking down at it. His palm goes onto its surface, and he marvels at the massive machine below him, an entire planet turned into a computing device, an instrument of domination.

  The Lethonen discovered it. Jhata took it from them. And now it’s his.

  Whoever built it in the first place must be the possessor of awesome power.

  He clothes his body in a thin skin of green plasma for protection, grips a Stone from his chest and lets his mind flow through the sphere into the network.

  Following the familiar path of its circuitry, he experiences multiple paths with simultaneous clarity.

  Ryzaard thinks of the Mesh, and his mind leaps to it through the implant.

  Traffic in the Mesh is heavier than before. Popular public Mesh-points are filled with surging crowds, many of them inside the Mesh for the first time. The general feeling of euphoria is palpable and contagious.

  Changes abound.

  Upon first entering the Mesh, a new traveler is assigned a default avatar based on a complex of biometric data and bearing a close, if stylized, resemblance to the real-life person. A tall, thin, Asian female in the real world will look tall, thin, Asian and female inside the Mesh.

  But things are changing. Avatars are being customized in novel ways.

  Non-humanoid life forms are proliferating, with dinosaurs, snakes and butterflies being the most popular. Ryzaard notices other subtle modifications. Many avatars look like the latest movie idol or sports superstar. The culture of the outside world is already invading the Mesh.

  Ryzaard smiles to himself as he walks through a zero gravity stadium of bodies chiseled to perfection, all watching a game of 3D soccer.

  There is no harm in letting them run free for a few more days. In time, after he has taken over, the excesses will be done away with. Order will be restored.

  The Mesh will become the instrument of control that it is meant to be.

  Closing his eyes, he surveys the entire Mesh in his mind, seeing it spread out below him like a familiar painting, becoming part of him. He is drawn to the Mesh-points with the highest access numbers. One stands out above all others. Like a star pulling in meteorites, it draws him closer through sheer gravity.

  Miyazawa’s shrine.

  Jumping there, he walks like a ghost through the worshipping masses, under the torii gate and up to the platform to stand next to the Master Priest, invisible to all but himself. A ring of new cherry trees encircles the shrine, and they drop a continual stream of blossoms to the ground like a white lace curtain as Miyazawa teaches a discourse on the eventual unity of the human race with the Kami.

  Ryzaard touches the Master Priest. As his fingers make contact with the heavy white robes, he enters without resistance into Miyazawa’s mind. A chaos of multiple voices, hundreds or thousands of them, rush past him as if sprinting down a dark hall. They recede in the distance, but then stop, turn and come closer. As they approach, the voices grow quiet.

  He senses a familiarity among them that is difficult to define.

  The words that Miyazawa speaks to the crowd pass first through Ryzaard as packets of thought, and then out through the priest’s lips, like an echo.

  I am the living Kami. I am the Way to Unity. The end of suffering. Join me and we will be One.

  Leaving Miyazawa, Ryzaard returns to the crowd spreading out from the foot of the shrine steps. With the slightest touch, he enters their minds and hears their thoughts.

  His fingers brush against a man kneeling on the bed of pearls.

  Help me find an end to chronic darkness and depression. Show me the Way.

  Ryzaard moves on and rubs against an old woman, her head bowed, her lips moving in a feverish chant.

  You are the Kami. The source of unity. Take my pain and give me joy.

  His eyes focus on the ocean of people that now extend to the foothills of the mountains on the far horizon. From the look of it, all of them have come seeking answers and healing. Ryzaard stretches out his arms, palms forward, and walks through them, absorbing their thoughts and emotions as effortlessly as one tasting a thousand flavors of ice cream.

  Their voices flow through him, a torrent of need and emptiness.

  Bring back my wife.

  Show me how to love my son.

  Heal my sick child, my only daughter.

  I spend all my money on derms. Help me to stop.

  Give me strength to quit gambling on Mesh-games.

  Help my son understand how much I love him.

  I’ve been away so long. I want to go home.

  Take this pain from my heart.

  Where is the truth?

  Why am I here?

  For a long time, he walks through the throng in a drunken stupor, feasting on an endless sea of pain and suffering. Exhaustion overcomes him until finally he can take no more and drops to the ground, still only a fraction of the way into the gathered masses. Looking up, the distant summit of a mountain draws his attention. He instantly transports himself there.

  An entire plane of virtual humanity spreads out below. Their pain is palpable. Left on their own, they will only continue to swim in a world of endless suffering.

  Ryzaard has the cure.

  Be patient. It won’t be long before I free you from your misery.

  CHAPTER 89

  Before closing his eyes, Matt prepares himself for the images and sou
nds that will flood his mind during the night, like so many nights before.

  These are not dreams.

  Dreams are easily forgotten when the morning sun wakes the dreamer. What Matt sees in the night lingers in his memory like an unwelcome guest. He tries to forget, but the images never give up their tenacious hold on his mind.

  He lies on the futon next to Jessica, eyes staring at the ceiling, hands down at his side, palms facing upward, resting in the classic yoga savasana pose. Jessica takes a deep breath in, the signal that, at that instant, she has dropped into sleep.

  It’s not so easy for him. Hours pass in the silent darkness. He drifts in and out of sleep.

  Images come and go. It might be the past. Or the future.

  He’s walking through a forest of rich brown trunks and massive oak trees spread far apart. The ground is flat and even. A hundred and fifty meters ahead, the trees end.

  Passing the last one, he steps onto a prairie of knee-high grass. Rows of parallel lines ripple through it like gentle waves. Without effort or fatigue, he walks unaware of the passage of time. The faint aroma of cherry blossoms comes riding in on the breeze, drawing him to a low ridge. He moves up a shallow slope and reaches the top.

  A large torii gate stands alone on the plain below.

  It gives off a peculiar sound, as if from a tuning fork, drawing him closer.

  A voice from behind causes him to turn back up the hill. No one is there. The voice comes again, this time from below. Turning to the torii gate, he sees a Woman dressed in white robes, standing on the other side of the gate, her eyes on Matt. The voice comes a third time, clear and steady. Matt concentrates on the words as they weave through his mind.

  Pass through the gate.

  He walks closer and stands on the opposite side of the torii gate a few meters from the Woman.

  Her brown eyes and bronze skin are lit from within. A look of utter contentment on her face draws Matt’s eyes like a magnet.

  The two of them stand apart and stare at each other.

  A single chord of sound hangs between them like a strand of spider silk shimmering in the sun.

  Pass through the gate and become clean.

  Without taking his eyes off the Woman, Matt takes three steps forward, moving under the crossbeam of the torii. The Woman offers her hand, and Matt reaches for it. As he steps forward, the air shifts, as if it’s turning to liquid.

  When he touches her fingers, they are colder and thinner than he expects. Looking up, he stares into the face of a Japanese man dressed in the white robes of a Shinto priest.

  The Woman is gone.

  Fear explodes in Matt’s gut. He drops the priest’s hand and takes three steps back through the gate.

  “Who are you?”

  “We are the Kami.” The priest stands with his hands together, a tall black hat riding high on his head.

  “I don’t understand.”

  The priest’s skin crawls with ripples and waves. “We are the Way to Peace and Unity.” His face loses its shape and becomes a grotesque mass of bulges and lumps fading in and out in a random fashion.

  Matt takes another step back.

  The smile on the priest’s face disappears as it stretches out of shape. His robe billows out, as if more than one person were hiding under the long folds of white cloth. His eyes bulge as he stares up at the torii gate.

  Matt follows the priest’s eyes. The gate is reversed. Matt is standing in the interior. The Shinto priest is standing on the outside.

  Metal spikes protrude through the priest’s skin. His teeth take on a canine appearance. Claws grow out of his fingernails. The music that floats in the air between them turns into an eerie silence. The priest’s eyes sink into deep furrows as he opens his mouth.

  Sensing danger, Matt steps back again.

  The priest speaks with a multitude of voices. “Give us the power.” His eyes, now dark and threatening, move methodically down Matt’s neck and arm to the Stone in his hand.

  “Come and get it.” Matt looks up with a sneer.

  The priest’s body goes into convulsions. As the robes fall away, he bursts into a shape out of a child’s nightmare, growing to three meters with a massive mouth and dripping fangs. The arms shrink to tiny appendages, and the body turns snake-like, covered in glistening slime and sharp scales.

  The creature lunges at Matt through the torii gate, but its heavy bulk stops as it slams into an invisible vertical plane that drops down from the crossbeam overhead like a protective field.

  The monster slithers back and rears up again, cobra-like. A scarlet tongue darts between its razor teeth. The mouth opens wide, and it flies at Matt’s head again, pressing itself against the protective barrier.

  Squinting his eyes, Matt sees it. A light blue energy field, as thin as foil, between him and the monster, stretching across the opening of the torii gate. Light explodes as the creature beats its head, again and again, against the barrier. Black blood drips from the side of its mouth. It withdraws to brood and stare at Matt.

  Let us have the power.

  Matt holds up the Stone. “Let the Lethonen withdraw so that the priest can speak on his own.”

  The creature opens its mouth wide and unleashes the screams of ten thousand broken dreams. Wreathing and twisting, it lunges again to snap at Matt and his Stone.

  The priest is ours. Give us the power.

  Matt takes a step closer to the torii gate and pushes the tip of the Stone into the light blue protective field. It cuts through easily.

  The creature screams again, loses its shape and sprouts multiple heads, each striking at Matt’s hand with a gaping mouth and shark teeth. Light explodes from the tip of the Stone as the monster makes contact with it.

  Matt punches his hand through the gate.

  The creature draws back. Horns protrude from its multiple heads.

  Matt walks through the gate, taking two steps forward. “Leave the priest now.” He drops his hands to his side. A bubble of protective blue energy flows out of the Stone and around his body.

  The priest is ours. Give us the power.

  Without a word, Matt lunges forward and grabs a horn in each hand. “I said leave him. Now.” The blue energy begins to run down his hands onto the monster.

  It screams a thousand deaths and jumps back.

  Matt points the Stone. Blue lightning leaps from its tip, spreading like a network of arteries over the monster’s body. The multiple heads collapse into one. Bulges move like scurrying insects under its skin as horns and scales float over its surface. Its cries rend the space around them.

  Matt moves closer to the beast, takes a deep breath and puts both hands on its skin. “Leave him.”

  The shape of the monster slowly changes back into the form of the priest, now naked of the Shinto robes that lie in shreds at his feet.

  Looking down at his hands, the priest’s fists slowly uncurl.

  “What is your name?” Matt says. “What do you do?”

  The man raises his head. “Miyazawa. Master priest of the Earth United Shinto Alliance.”

  Matt studies Miyazawa’s eyes. Recognition floods in. “I’ve seen you before.” He puts a hand on the priest’s cheek and moves his head to the side for a look behind his right ear. It’s just as he suspects. A blue jewel floats in the skin. “You got this from Ryzaard. Now you’re handing them out to everyone.”

  “It is the path to unity. To peace.” Miyazawa presses his palms together in the center of his chest. “To becoming one with the Kami.”

  Matt pulls back his hand. “Ryzaard is deceiving you. Using you. Do you really think he wants the same thing you do?”

  No hint of emotion moves on Miyazawa’s face. “He’s been kind enough to provide the money and means for Shinto to spread to all lands and people. It would have been impossible without him. The world is at peace. War and destruction have been avoided. What more proof do I need?”

  “But don’t you see what’s happening? He’s using Shinto to dis
tribute the blue jewel imbeds.” Matt steps back and runs a finger along the vertical beam of the torii gate. “As soon as he’s finished, he’ll no longer have need of you or Shinto. You’ll be discarded like a piece of trash.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I know.”

  An eyebrow lifts on the priest’s face. “But the implants. They are bringing us together on the Mesh. Peace and unity are not an illusion. It’s happening. Paradise is coming, just as Ryzaard promised. And Shinto is part of it.”

  Matt shakes his head. “Yes. For now. It’s an illusion. I’ve seen what Ryzaard plans to do with the blue jewels. So have others. It’s not difficult to comprehend. His plan makes perfect sense. He’ll bring Paradise, but it won’t be what you expect.”

  “I don’t understand. We all want Paradise.”

  “He’s going to use the implants to take control of everyone’s mind. Then we will have Paradise, Ryzaard’s vision of Paradise. No crime. No suffering. But most importantly, no free will.”

  Miyazawa’s eyes find the Stone in Matt’s hand. “How do you know this?”

  “I’ve seen it.” Matt moves his Stone from hand to hand. “Ryzaard himself showed it to me, a long time ago. He wanted me to be part of it, to share it with him. But I refused to use my power to turn the human race into slaves.”

  For the first time, a hint of emotion appears on the priest’s face.

  “Ryzaard is using me to enslave the human race?” Miyazawa’s eyes narrow. He brings his hands together and stares up at the torii gate over their heads.

  Matt slowly nods. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been infected by the Lethonen. Thousands of them. They’ve taken over your mind and body. I can only guess that they’re trying to get to Ryzaard and his Stones through you. Trying to get some part of his power.”

  The priest shakes his head. “The Lethonen?” He scans his own body, as if trying to see into it, starting with his hands and arms, and then moving down his torso to his knees and feet. “What are the Lethonen?”

  How can Matt explain what he himself doesn’t understand?

  “I’ve seen them, felt them. You might say they’re Kami, but the bad kind. They crave power and will do anything to get it.”