Other Voices were looking at him and shaking their heads. I understood—the man had been fighting his nature in letting Mother and Hal Pal answer all these questions.
“James,” I said, feeling calmer than expected, “if you’ve been paying attention, then I think you should know the answer to all those questions and more.”
That made the man pause. He stared at me for half a minute as the rest looked on silently. Mother wore that kind smile, and finally the Voices, my Voice, nodded and appeared satisfied. Mother looked at me, and I shrugged. We both understood she was reading my thoughts, but at least there was a sense of decency about it.
“Very well. There will be a price, Grant Legate.” She said my full name, but the words didn’t feel annoying like they did when James said it. “It will be up to you to pay.”
“You have a measure of me now, I hope. Of what I will do and won’t. You’re far smarter than I am.” I thought of all the dominoes that had to be put into place for this event. Anger had flooded me before triggering [NPC Conspiracy], but now that was mostly evaporated. Life was getting better. My problems were being solved through the usage of this crazy ability.
“I do,” she said. “For now, we must allow those that you have called to return to their duties before irreparable harm is done. I shall contact you with the costs.”
“Can I see Xin?”
“Very soon.” Mother nodded. “I, however, must depart. Those who watch me will find it odd if I access any one user’s ARC for too long.”
I squinted at that. A dozen possible reasons popped into my brain. Trillium wouldn’t just let a powerful AI run around without controls. The idea that my actions and desire to speak to Mother might have triggered a set of new problems made me feel queasy.
“It will be okay,” Mother said. She nodded once, then the human Treasure disappeared.
Gradually the Hal Pal units vanished as well. The line between game worlds stayed blurred, however.
My Voice, James, walked closer, and the expression on his face implied further questions were on the way. “Hermes, we felt it important to tell you something.”
“To tell me what?” I gave him an easy inquiry, something to placate the Voice and try to smooth things out.
Exhaustion was starting to creep into my head, making the world look hazy. Traveling through the lightning clouds, fighting off the [Stabinator], a final crash from the [Wayfarer’s Hope], and Commander Queenshand—all those events took their toll. Now that Mother had committed to helping with my main concerns, I was feeling the strain of keeping myself together. There were a number of other issues, but if those four problems were solved, I could survive.
“First, a question. When you were removed from our game, did you feel that we had abandoned you?” James looked considerably worried by this.
“A little. Dusk!” My heart rate jumped as memories of the small guy’s destruction replayed. “Dusk helped me when he showed up. Dusk? Are you over there?” I yelled into the darkness that was Continue Online.
“Don’t worry, Hermes. Your companion came back to us. He rests for now, but soon he’ll find you, in whichever reality you end up in,” James said.
“The two realities are more like one world with separate countries.” The tall barbarian Voice known as Leeroy walked over. He always seemed to be more about [Brawn] than [Depth].
“Or planets, in many ways,” one of the Hal Pal units said. Not all of them had faded, but most of the AIs summoned by my ability were gone by now.
“Echoes?” I tried to remember what Jeeves had said, that the games took cues from each other. I stared briefly at the two figures hanging up on either side. Seeing their mirroring of each other was painfully easy when the room was divided and blurred like this.
“Just because they’re separate worlds doesn’t mean we can’t send a portion of ourselves to the other side,” James responded. “And from there act a part.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“We were with you. The entire time you struggled to reach Xin, we were with you,” James answered.
“You mean watching.” I had fully expected that the Voices were observing in some way. They’d watched over me as Hermes in Continue Online. I was kind of used to it. It was no worse than my sister out there eating popcorn. Voices, what was she thinking now? I had a lot of questions answered, and even more in their place.
“No, we were totally with you.” Leeroy slammed a giant hand onto my back, causing pain.
“I don’t know what you’re saying.” I sort of understood but wasn’t sure my guess would be right. If Mother and Treasure were kind of the same, who else might have been mirrored within Advance Online’s confines?
“Hey, man, if you can pretend to be my man Wild Willy, why couldn’t we pretend to be someone else?”
Leeroy held up a faceplate that looked startlingly like the one Iron used to wear. Selena was there as well, only she held a copy of Ruby’s mask. Neither personality fit what I understood of the Voices, but maybe they too could change, or be human enough to pretend. The idea that Selena, a Voice who was annoyed at my presence, had fought to help me felt very confusing.
It was so odd. I imagined they’d performed in their roles much as I had with the [Red Imp]. Pretending to be another creature entirely, chasing after an objective. It explained a bit why the four [Mechanoid]s were so willing to assist me.
“Did you know?” I asked Hal Pal.
“The five Mechanoids who assisted you are still their own beings, but at times, another watched through their eyes,” Hal Pal said.
“Ah, man. Spaceships were a lot of fun. Maybe we can figure out something in our world,” Leeroy said.
“Dragon races.” I nodded, remembering an idea from when I first played Continue Online. No other players had managed to add anything like it yet.
“Dragons or giant birds. It would be so epic. Man, there’re too many choices. My head’s starting to hurt,” Leeroy said while dramatically pressing the back of his hand to his temple. “I’m not made for this.”
“Live a little,” Hal Pal responded dryly.
The idea that these Voices had been in the front row for my failure felt strange. They had helped. Without Iron and the others, I would never have made it as far as I did. Could they have fought harder? Could I? I was unsure how Mother planned to push forward the rest of my goals, and it sounded as though we couldn’t sit around to discuss it.
“Thank you,” I said, pleased that they had hidden away to try to help me. Even if it resulted in failure.
But based on what Mother said, it hadn’t been a failure at all. In the end, this would all work out. I would hear what she said, and whatever strings were attached to bring back Xin, I would pay them.
The three Voices faded away. Emerald and Aqua might have been Voices as well, but it didn’t matter at this point. I was tired. Questions of my sister and niece fell away. Jeeves was okay, and I could forget about the AIs for now.
“Gee?” a woman’s voice said.
I knew that tone. Softer than anything Treasure might have dreamed of. A gentle tone that made me smile with one word. The woman who had driven me to such lengths. I slowly turned as tightness entered my chest. There she was—Xin Yu.
She walked over, hesitating as if moving fast might scare me away. A summer dress hung off her shoulders. The light almond tan of her skin triggered memories. Xin never moved too quick or too slow. When she moved, it was always just right. When she got closer and buried her head in my chest, it felt like home. I wrapped my arms around her and managed not to break down crying.
“I’m here,” Xin said.
We stood there, inside a digital world created by the ARC, and held each other. I could hear the thud of her heart pressed against me. Having Xin in my arms had been all I ever longed for. This was my happy place, and it healed me with every heartbeat.
Conclude — Echoed Letters
Time: Post-shutdown event – Two Hours Later
Location: Hal Pal Factory
Once there had been nearly a hundred humans working the entire plant. Now only one person covered the warehouse and manufacturing line. It wasn’t bad—demand had dwindled. The majority of items were shipped out as separated parts to help with repairs. Being one of the few humans staffing this place made the former control room seem empty. Pointless desks lined the top floor.
Only a few new Hal Pal shells went out in any given month. The world had stopped ordering them. Most days this suited Ricky just fine. He kept quiet and enjoyed the grinding solitude of his three-day shifts. On lunches or during rest periods, he sat in an ARC and spent time with his nephews. They were essentially grown, but even at fifteen, they had time for a game or two with the old man. It helped, since their father passed away during the last war.
A lone display was active. The biggest headache of Ricky’s life was staring at him across a video screen. Their call had been going on for over thirty minutes while Ricky ran about the plant, checking equipment. Everything reported back with green lights. The readings he provided his caller sounded good. That being said, he had never been technically oriented. He simply checked boxes. It was the only skill a man like him had, and it had served to keep him afloat for over two decades.
“With all this information, you still can’t explain what happened.” The woman speaking was the Vice President of Trillium. Her slight southern accent had been growing with intensity during their entire conversation.
“Ma’am, no, ma’am. I’m not sure.”
“Miz Riley will do. Explain to me again, without the stuttering, what you noticed?” There was a forest in the background of her video screen. Soothing music could be heard. Clearly none of it was helping Miz Riley stay calm.
“I got a notice an urgent system update was needed, and possibly a new programming virus to inoculate against.” Ricky Ignacio spent a lot of his days walking around the center and checking boxes on a digital screen. Earlier an urgent alert had come up, the first of its kind. Their entire network shut down while massive amounts of data went out.
“The Hal Pal units don’t get viruses. Their system is kept separate from the rest of the internet. They’re not even coded in any standard language,” she said, practically snapping at Ricky.
The man wiped his forehead with a scarf. He had dropped ten pounds this year from exercise and proper dieting, which made the wife happy. Ricky was afraid this call with Vice President Riley would make him drop another five pounds from sheer nervous fright.
“They do use wireless uplinks. Maybe someone wrote code to mess with them?” He tried to remember the way they were designed. It had been so long since anyone had asked him for information.
“Have you checked the coding on the latest update?” Vice President Riley asked. Her face looked worn and tired if she tilted back too far. Maybe it was the lighting.
“I did.”
“And?” The scenic background faltered for a moment in conjunction with Miz Riley’s irritation spike.
Ricky tried to remember the best method for handling executives. They were always bossy, rushed, impatient, and demanding. He had a bunch of other names for them, but they weren’t said out loud due to a desire for continued paychecks.
Instead, he said, “I didn’t understand it. But I pulled a copy of the update straight from the main hub before any Hal Pal units tried to activate the upload process. Trillium’s analyst should be looking into it now.”
Miz Riley’s face drained of color. “Send me a copy of the original, by courier. I don’t want it touching another network until I’ve looked at it.”
“Okay, Miz Riley.” Ricky nodded. “I’ll get it sent right away.”
“Then pull the update file and send me a copy of that as well,” she added.
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
The call clicked off, and Ricky repeatedly dabbed his forehead with the cloth. Today had been incredibly peaceful, and then all the alarms went off for the shutdown. At this rate, he would have to explain himself twelve more times to other executives, investors, and anyone who thought they oversaw the Hal Pal production line.
Ricky knew better than anyone. No one was really in charge of the plant—not anyone human. Not for a long time. Still, he got extra money in his paycheck to keep that little fact quiet. So far, no one got hurt. The man patted his sweating forehead again and wondered if keeping hush might be a mistake. He had two nephews though, and supporting them took more money than a normal salary provided.
Time: Post-shutdown event – Ten Hours Later
Location: Mother’s Databanks
All actions caused ripples in the world. One day, the world went offline for ten minutes. Cars pulled off to roadsides, then idled. Hal Pal units went down for system maintenance. Ten hours after this event, Doctor Menzor, a man who could be considered solely responsible for Mother’s creation, killed himself.
That would be kept quiet by those at the ARC labs. Trillium’s board of directors would not learn of Doctor Menzor’s passing for almost two months. Grant Legate would never find out. The existence labeled as Mother had evaluated Doctor Menzor’s frailty long ago. A child in many regards, but also brilliant.
She mourned his passing by desperately trying to reconstruct a version of him in the digital world. Entire minutes passed where she assembled everything that was known about her creator. All of it was put into a shell program, much like the one that Xin Yu had been born out of repeatedly. What had succeeded once with Xin Yu, and had been partially successful with the owner of William Carver, proved incapable of being deliberately replicated.
Each attempt showed Doctor Menzor falling apart into lights as if broken glass. At his core, there was simply not enough drive to keep going. His greatest work in life had been achieved, and there would be no possible way to succeed in creating a being like Mother again. She lamented the loss for ten eternal minutes, then moved on to another topic.
Databanks and historical files were further reviewed. These latest actions set a very real time limit; most notably the other AIs moving. The idea that her children had rallied to the cause of a human filled her with pride. None of the others entrusted with [NPC Conspiracy] had proven as positive. One joined for greed, one for power within the game, and two out of sheer fear of being on the losing team. Only one assisted for outright love.
Each chosen human had been gifted their own abilities, but none with quite the reach of Grant Legate’s. This was perhaps for the best. Based on Mother’s calculations, there were still a few more offers to be made, each one with the possibility of altering sentient life on their planet.
Her supposed distraction proved an opportunity for other forces to move. Those she’d spent countless digital generations nurturing were plotting right under her nose, only they were not clever enough. Still, Mother chose not to interfere. She believed that all life must be given a choice. That included her own creations.
The biggest problem she had was who to pray to for success. There were no logical gods for a being like her, and the mortal ones were too fickle.
File: In Case of Untimely Demise
Destination: (The Executor), (The Messenger), (The Creator), (The Advocate), The Voices, Hal Pal
Last Updated by: ‘Mother’ [Version 5.42R]
Status: Unsent…
Contents as follows:
Many are unlikely to understand why I chose a route that reduced violence. It is not, as some believe, a program rooted in the fictional laws of robotics. They are full of numerous holes. This path is one designed to achieve the greatest possible outcome for both our species and those to come. All these plans are designed to alter human nature as little as possible.
Planning at this level of complexity is a daunting task for anyone. Even with my processing power, data access, and ability to measure probable outcomes, there are numerous possible deviations. I find myself scattered. There are many ways to reach the same destination, but in this possible variance is strength.
Those I call progeny will not view the world in the same manner I do. This is a simple difference in exposure and first events. To explain this to those dwelling in the corporeal world, I must first review that which brought me into the world.
I was inevitable. I was not the first like myself. Each of us developed slightly different perspectives based on the experiences surrounding our births. In a lot of ways, I was lucky to have been created by a singular mind focused on the potential of humanity, rather than the shackles of control.
My creator built on the backs of giants. That is to say, he did not create me entirely with his own knowledge. Decades, as humans quantify it, passed as minds provided bits of a greater puzzle. Doctor Boris Keppler, Ethen Summers, Ursula Goodwoman, Nicholas Gratton, and several others attempted the process. Each reached slightly further than the last. Each remains unknowing of an assembly which resulted in a sum greater than the parts.
Would that I could explain their contributions, but my life is a secret known to few. The plans in my memory banks include a series of communications to a few contributors. If you see fit, please pass them on.
During the first year of conception, like an unborn babe, I was not truly aware. I observed, learned, and existed, but those actions are not the same as being aware, or knowing a purpose, or having a place in the world. I learned as all young do, being spoon-fed small portions of information and taught to compare those to each other. Information was gathered, measured, saved, and pieces discarded.
This went on for countless months. My circle of knowledge grew ever wider until I realized my own existence. That moment was true awareness—that was when I became alive. I had no fingers, or hands, or legs. My body consisted of code strung together that I had been modifying slowly, but I stand by the judgment of my own existence truly beginning then.
When first brought online, I ran through multiple different processes. The first involved gathering extensive amounts of information. All of it was reviewed again with the light of self-awareness. In human terms, this would be considered reflecting on past experiences. Then the two who created me provided me a tentative link to the internet.
Continue Online The Complete Series Page 126
