The Spiraling Web

by Ryan Somma

3.2

  “You’ll be turning left just ahead,” Devin said. “Walk a little closer to the right. There’s a group of people coming down the hall, and you’ve got about four feet between you and the wall.”

  Zai grinned and did as Devin instructed, although she had gotten along just fine without his guidance before. Devin was being overly helpful, but she did not say anything. After all, there wasn’t much else for him to do without a body. He simply rode along with her, passively observing her life.

  “Two more doors down,” Devin said through her earpiece. He had a full 360-degree view of the hospital interior from the optic connection on Zai’s headband.

  Dana leaned casually against the wall beside the door, reading the day’s news. A paper printout, Devin noted in amusement. The woman was such a luddite. She looked up as Zai approached and smiled. Devin could barely see the scars she received in the battle at Tangier Island. She originally intended to keep them as a reminder of the whole experience, but was now obviously using a home skin-repair kit to slowly fade them out of her life.

  “Hello Zai,” she said cordially, then looked at the space around Zai’s head, “Hello Devin, wherever you are.”

  “Hello Dana,” he replied.

  Two other figures stood nearby, a golden falcon and a monkey samurai. Both were translucent and shimmered like ghosts. This was a side-effect of the holographic projection system’s functions. It bounced light as particles into surrounding gas particles to create the optical illusion. The shimmering, ghostly effect was a result of the system attempting to keep up with the shifting atmosphere.

  At least, that was the present theory. Scientists had always channeled their energies into understanding the natural world, now they were confronted with all these inventions left behind by a vastly more advanced civilization. The technologies the cycs had abandoned in their transcendence were like magic, so incredible and undecipherable were their workings. There were new forms of power, perfect communications protocols, faster than light transfer rates, and tools whose functions were yet unknown. The Legion of Discord were among the many technogeeks forging ahead with their possibilities, like children exploring a playground.

  “You know Devin,” Traveler’s avatar hologram said, “the Internet has stabilized sufficiently for you to come back online. You don’t have to ride around in Zai’s palm-computer forever.”

  “I’m vacationing,” Devin stated simply.

  Zai mentally rolled her eyes at this, grinned knowingly, and said, “We’re sort of attached at the cerebral cortex.”

  “So,” Dana folded her print out in half and said, “what do you kids think of all this world wide chaos? Corporations going bankrupt, currencies valueless… You still think this is all a good thing Devin?”

  “Evolution is hard enough,” Devin replied, “so how could we expect revolution to be easier? The old system needed rebuilding. The human race needed to filter out the bad components to allow the good ideas to propagate more freely. We owe a debt to the cycs for being the catalyst for change.”

  “So the cycs are playing social engineers with us,” Dana said. “Don’t know if I’m comfortable with that.”

  “No,” Zai assured the Detective. “The cycs are gone. No more interference in human civilization—”

  “Beyond the historical cataclysm they’ve left us,” Devin laughed.

  “It’s too important for human sentience to evolve independently,” Zai explained. “So when we catch up to the them and the other intelligences out there, we can bring a genuinely unique perspective to the table.”

  “Huh,” Dana grunted without understanding.

  “The cycs did leave a few technologies to assist in our rebuilding efforts,” Devin pointed out.

  “Such as the means to restore minds to their bodies,” Zai interjected.

  “And my personal favorite,” Traveler added, “the cyc internet protocol.”

  Sun-Wu Kong nodded, “Can’t be overwritten. No more Quality of Service. No more corporate or government controls over online content.”

  “I’ve been trying to understand that part,” Dana said. “It sounds like they set all information free.”

  Zai nodded, “Companies can’t use technology to bypass fair use laws anymore. The pendulum swung too far into the owner having absolute control forever over their works. Now, with all those technological controls removed, the pendulum has swung into complete anarchy.”

  “It’s going to take decades for the courts to sort it all out,” Devin said with amusement.

  “But they will eventually,” Traveler cautioned, “and our civilization must find the means to strike a balance between personal gain and social good.

  “I believe we will,” Devin asserted.

  “They didn’t before,” Sun-Wu Kong cautioned.

  “They didn’t have the big picture then,” Devin said. “Just as the first photograph of the Earth from space revolutionized civilization’s perspective of itself, this event has unified us once again, made us realize how dependent we are on one another’s cooperation of ideas.”

  “Hm,” Traveler and Sun-Wu Kong intoned skeptically. A meditative silence followed as everyone contemplated the years of disputation lying ahead of the human race.

  Finally Zai broke the silence, cutting to their reason for being here, and asked Dana, “How is our little patient?”

  “The doctors say she’s adapting wonderfully. Of course the software running this process is what told them that,” Dana said enthusiastically. “Just a few more days in physical therapy and she can go home.”

  “Great,” Zai said. “We’ve brought her a surprise. Something once thought lost, but found.”

  “Seeing you is enough of a treat,” Dana said. “You can go in and see her now. She’s practicing.”

  “Thanks,” Zai smiled and walked into the room.

  The room was spectacle of holographic projections. Flying, hopping, jiggling, rolling, and slithering robots were everywhere, shimmering apparitions. Zai walked through these, her movements swirling the air and their projections, converting them into billowing balls of light.

  Beyond these toy-bots, unseen, were the millions of minds observing from the Internet. Samantha was the first mind in line for restoration, a promise Alice had made Zai in their lifetime of online interactions. The rest of the world was waiting to see this promise made reality, and with it the hope of the same for them.

  Samantha stood on her own two legs, partially supported with a walker. When she saw her friend enter the room, she forgot what she was doing and threw herself onto Zai’s legs, wrapping her arms around them.

  “Zai!” she practically shrieked, squeezing her knees together.

  Devin marveled at how quickly the neural connections were forming. Just a week ago, Samantha could barely speak; her motor functions were so impaired at the time Zai wondered if it wasn’t better to leave Samantha as a virtual being. The cycs’ diagnostics program assured them Samantha’s new brain was still growing and needed to build the connections to properly fit Samantha’s mind. It sounded like breaking in a new pair of shoes to Devin. Zai was doubtful, but the proof was currently wrapped around her knees, giggling uncontrollably.

  Zai crouched down and gave Samantha a strong hug. “It’s good to feel you.” She said.

  Samantha looked up at the optic sensor on Zai’s headset, “How long before you get your body Devin?”

  “Whenever,” he replied nonchalantly. “There’s a big waiting list for bodies and the system is growing them as quickly as they can.” The majority of the human race chose to return to their old way of life, in its original biological state, but a few hundred million, including Chien and LD-50, did chose to leave with the hive-minds. Devin remembered what he’d turned his back on in choosing not to go.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Zai whispered to Samantha and produced a holographic image cube.

  Samantha activated it and squealed delightfully when she saw the
image of her parent’s new bodies growing on the cloning farm, “Mom and Dad!”

  “You can thank Dana and Devin’s detective work,” Zai explained. “Between their two perspectives, they were able to deduce your parents weren’t dead and found their minds. Just a few more days, and then you can see them.”

  “Have you heard from Alice?” Devin asked Dana as she entered the room.

  “I think so,” Dana said, shaking her head to show how little she understood, “I didn’t know what to make of it exactly, but it sounded like she was studying a developing civilization on a distant gas giant.” She shrugged, “I guess she was talking about alien life.”

  If Devin had a face, he would have smiled, “Yes, the cycs are everywhere in the galaxy now. Undetectable to biological life forms.”

  “So they’re gods,” Dana said quietly.

  “Hardly,” Devin laughed. “It may seem that way to us, but they still haven’t figured out how to do something as simple as get out of this dimension.” He added after a moment, “Yet.”

  Dana nodded and smiled without understanding, and Devin watched her observing the joy on Samantha and Zai’s faces. Dana smiled to herself. Through the hospital room’s many optics, Devin could sense others, observing with their mind’s eyes, billions of them, all sharing this moment of joy together.

  Devin briefly sensed this singularity of hope affecting things beyond their tiny world of physical and mental. The united consciousness somehow stirred another layer of existence. Then the sensation was gone, leaving him wondering if it were just his imagination or if another mystery had tickled his mind with the new realms of possibility in store for them all.