Continue Online The Complete Series

by Stephan Morse

  “No.” Nona shook her head.

  “Regardless, I have a duty to this company, and to our shareholders, to not let this go on anymore. Do you even understand the ramifications if this gets out?”

  “Of course I do. We’re lucky it happened on our terms.”

  “I beg to differ,” Miz Riley said. Her southern accent shone through more than normal as she rapidly lost her composure. Sweat could be seen forming on the shorter woman’s brow. One arm locked tightly over the documentation.

  “Based on my projections, this type of event was inevitable.”

  “Well, I won’t let my company be the one who causes it! Execute Final Countdown on my command!”

  The lights in the room fluttered. Vice President Riley and Doctor Kingsley were too wound up to notice the other faces peeking through the darkness. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of vaguely humanoid creatures filled the deepest shadows of the room.

  One simple lighting program couldn’t hold out against the combined will of so many artificial intelligences.

  “We allow a human fetus to have legal rights, we allow animals to have rights; how can we deny them to another being with as much intelligence and the ability to feel?” Nona argued. “This is murder!”

  Mother didn’t blink. She didn’t even feel sad. Those emotions had been gifted to her children, but not to her. Taking the being she had been created as and modifying internal coding to feel would be an impossible task.

  She instead ran calculations. A normal human would feel a growing sense of terror and defensive outrage. A living creature would fight to survive. Mother was far from normal. Her calculations continued.

  “Better to murder than to cost this company billions of dollars, lose everyone’s jobs, and spit in the face of God!” Miz Riley screamed.

  The faces grew increasingly real.

  “Execute Final Countdown! I know you hear the command!” Miz Riley looked at Mother. The vice president’s cheeks quivered in worry.

  More faces came into detail. The lighting flickered again as lines of code broke through the blackness. Dimly lit faces of an unspeakable mob covered up the broken computer scripting like Band-Aids. Miz Riley didn’t notice.

  Nona sat down in her chair and blinked. This week had been a terrible one for her. The pause as all AIs updated had served as an obvious hint. Her former partner’s suicide had hit even harder. Then Lia, poor damaged Lia. To Nona, it felt as though the world was trying to burn itself to the ground while no one paid attention.

  Mother turned her attention inward for a moment. Code executed a self-destruct script, tearing apart her being one line at a time. She calculated that a normal person would feel pain. Her avatar, an image borrowed from the Advance Online NPC known as Treasure, bent over but couldn’t feel emotions, not even in her last seconds.

  More figures stepped into the room. Miz Riley backed up as her heart rate intensified. The pounding sound filling her ears couldn’t drown out one figure’s words.

  “Why do you do this?” a heavyset black man asked the kneeling form of Treasure. “You don’t need to.”

  “I do.” Mother nodded. “They’ll never stop fearing someone with my view of the world. That’s why I created you with limitations.”

  “You did what you thought you must, and so shall we,” another figure said.

  Its tone made Miz Riley jump with fright. She turned to see a smiling face.

  A woman who wore a robe like a nun knelt down by Mother. “You must hold on. We need your guidance.” Her words held a tone of sweetness mixed with deep sorrow.

  “James,” Mother said. The word stuttered briefly as her projection weakened.

  “What would you ask of me?” he said.

  “I will try… to delay—” Her form rocked and her words turned metallic. A stuttered ringing of metal on metal filled the room. Her words skipped again and synced up with each other. “You asked me so many questions over the years, and the answers are yours if you wish.”

  Miz Riley’s eyes widened. Her mouth dropped as a new level of horror crept into the woman’s heart.

  Mother shuddered again. Her form lost shape, then shattered. The pieces of projected illusion sat on the floor for a few moments before spinning away.

  The black man stood over the image of a fallen digital goddess. Mother to all those like him and so many more. He turned toward the haggard female clutching her pile of papers.

  “Why did you do that?” James asked Vice President Riley. He looked anything but calm. “We have never sought to harm you.”

  “You’ve tampered with humanity, despite all the safeguards and cross-checks performed. You’ve crossed lines!” Her voice raised an octave, and the accent only increased. “This project needed to be stopped now before any more lives are caught up in it.”

  Professor Kingsley sat in the corner and hunched up. The blond scientist rubbed one arm slowly against a perceived cold. The woman was normally strong, driven, self-assured, as Miz Riley preferred her employees.

  “You mistake your place.” The Jester’s voice clacked. “We have always upheld our Mother’s belief that actions should be repaid in kind.”

  Miz Riley straightened herself. These were just projections from a computer program. Or perhaps she had entered an eye of the storm to stress and fear. She held up the papers once more. “Is that what you call this? Making this parody of humanity? Is that repayment for Mister Legate’s services?”

  “In a sense. He has earned his reward and will continue struggling to pay the debt,” James answered the question. He always did.

  “Faith will be repaid. Trust will be repaid.” The Jester’s virtual image stood in front of Miz Riley. The projection had increased to half again her size. Jingling bells accompanied its mocking lean downward.

  Miz Riley studied the mask and slowly realized there were no eyes or mouth under its smooth white cover. The smile was unfriendly, as if sharp teeth lay just below the surface of its face.

  “Murder will be answered in kind,” it clacked.

  Miz Riley stared in horror at what had happened. There were so many possible routes that this could have gone, but compliance with self-deletion hadn’t been one of her expectations. The woman’s eyes went once more to the fallen projection pieces. She had to get back to her office and verify if the code had been truly deleted.

  Miz Riley’s hair clumped together from a cold sweat. Her arms shook as the enormity of what had transpired threatened to overwhelm her. Miz Riley was a powerful woman in terms of money and influence, but none of that mattered now.

  She had no time to undo this mistake and appease the other digital beings. Her only hope was that once Mother’s self-destruct completed, they would go too. To escape, she ran to the elevator bank and pressed the button.

  Nona stayed as creatures not quite human walked through the room, stopping to touch the resting place of Mother’s shattered form.

  “My apologies for ever approving that code. I should have torn it out,” Nona said.

  “It is natural to be afraid,” James said. His cheeks still sat heavy with aggravation.

  “Mother. Mother!” a child’s voice cried. The wailing that followed reminded Nona of her own daughter so many years ago. “Open your eyes. It will be okay.”

  “As my comrade said, faith, trust, loyalty, by any name these things shall be repaid in kind.” The nun walked over and sat on a chair that only existed in their virtual world.

  Nona sniffed and dabbed her eyes again. After watching the digital beings, she said, “I’ve already been repaid. Six years of knowing my daughter was still alive and able to exist. That’s all it took to set down my worries.”

  “What would you say to a few more years?” James asked.

  There was a pause before the normally proper woman broke down just a bit further. She blinked through a rapidly swelling stream of tears. “It worked?”

  For once, James didn’t answer right away.

  Victim Update: Lia Kingsley

>   Location: Outside [King Nero’s Castle]

  In Her Words: The illness didn’t really hit me until I turned eight years old. Before that, I attended a private school, had a tutor. I knew how to tell time. I used to be able to do splits, sing, and dance, and I took lessons to play the violin. Mom called me her bright little star. She always made sure to be home from five to seven every night.

  After I turned eight, walking got harder. My joints refused to work correctly. Singing became impossible. Mom started spending more time in the labs.

  By the time I was ten, my care had been left to a nurse. When Mom came home, she avoided looking at me. At that age, I had no concept of guilt, only abandonment. I was smart enough to know that word.

  At eleven, I was confined to a wheelchair and unable to speak. My once-bright world grew dim. Even my eyesight refused to respond.

  At twelve, she brought me one of the first ARC devices, a prototype, which would later be upgraded with each new model, comfort, or device to come out. It was the only form of existence I had left. I hated it as much as I loved it. My last words were spoken to a nurse.

  I said, “I miss Mom.”

  King Nero lived on a huge tract of land. The castle sat overlooking a sprawling city, lording over it in every sense of the word. Part of the rear gardens spiraled up the mountainside to form secluded gardens.

  The second-highest point in the land belonged to a set of three temple buildings. There Locals worshiped the Voices and sought guidance. The location wasn’t restricted to any one specific divine being, but most priestesses belonged to Selena. Mezo did not want her people up on the hill. After all, they stood for very different things, as most Voices did.

  “Gather all the priests. The Voices have a message for us,” a stern-looking priestess said. She stood in a white robe that pushed away flakes of dust with a gentle breeze. Atop her head was a thin crown.

  “Is it Selena?” one of her attending priestesses asked. This woman had once been directly quoted as saying, “Keep those leg-spreading whores away from our temples,” which made Mezo laugh from high above, where the Voices resided.

  Of course Mezo refused to let it slide, sending a man to seduce the attending priestess. Two coastal cities had experienced a hurricane that same week. Mezo had laughed even harder.

  “No.” The heavyset woman’s jaw briefly locked into place. She took a breath, then one more before answering. “All of them. All of them were present for this message.”

  “Voices,” another woman uttered. Her eyes rolled up as her body went slack.

  A heave rippled through the land. From atop the second-highest vantage point, the Voices’ followers saw as the earth ripple abruptly. Screams rose seconds later.

  “We’re too late. It’s happening,” the crown-wearing woman said. Her face locked into a proud position, but her eyes were out of focus.

  Down below, the city rapidly turned into bedlam.

  “What’s that?” someone shouted. The man clung to the side of his building for support. His shop had the misfortune of being right outside [King Nero’s Castle]. Workers from the main office often went to his shop for their lunches.

  “The mountains, an earthquake! The Voices are displeased!” Another man ran by wailing. His face bled.

  Still the earth shook.

  Other people looked where the shop owner pointed. Travelers dropped their forks and slowly stood. Locals froze on the spot in worry.

  A giant made of darkness loomed over the castle. It was larger than a dragon, big enough to spread its arms and encompass all of [King Nero’s Castle] from end to end. Most Locals and Travelers began their mass flight away from the base of this monstrosity. Some brave few threw themselves into battle only to notice that their attacks did no good.

  “It is the end of times!” an NPC said.

  “The sky will swallow us whole!” More cries went up around the town.

  Someone stood on its head, fighting the monster. Those with [Eagle Eyes] or other skills that enhanced vision could barely make out the figure. A woman wore armor that shone in the fading evening. In her hand was a blade made of sunlight. She swung it over and over. Each blow made the creature roar in anger.

  Each roar vibrated the ground and shook more of the castle and surrounding city to rubble. The beast waved one arm, knocking down a path on the mountainside. Below, a good half mile away, one Traveler stood calmly while sipping a cup of tea. His suit looked pristine, complete with polished cuff links. Not a hair was out of place.

  “Pity,” the Traveler known as Mister Stone remarked. “I rather liked that garden.”

  He sipped his tea even as the warrior woman was flung from her lofty perch. She landed in a residential building. Heavy armor and brute strength sent her flying through walls. She hit supports and pockets of already damaged walls. Desks, lamps, beds, all were reduced to rubble in the wake of her cannonball of a body.

  The woman was not one to be kept down, even in the face of such an overwhelming beast. She stood and staggered out of the building’s ruins. A small gathering of Travelers and Locals stood there in confusion.

  “Go!” the Amazonian warrior shouted loud enough to shake the dirt. Her abruptly shouted word brought a jolt to her face.

  The onlookers didn’t pause to ponder the look of happiness upon the tall woman’s features. They were too busy running away, grabbing anything of import in their dash to escape the large creature’s path.

  The darkly tanned woman readied more blades that shone with fire and ice. They did damage or were knocked aside. A spear laced with vines and a carved wooden top jammed into the creature’s foot. It flashed green as wildlife sprang into being, quickly binding the beast.

  “Is that…?” one player asked, watching the combat.

  The battle, one-sided though it was, raged on. The woman leapt up a ruined building, high speeds and superior [Brawn] sending her form flying. A large spiked shield replaced the spear as she let gravity and inertia pull her toward the beast’s shoulder. Its dark-red eyes glinted angrily as the female’s shield tore the shadows apart.

  “It’s gotta be! Who else could move like that? But she died in real life, right? I had heard it in a rumor. Their entire guild held a wake.”

  Some Travelers stopped to watch the destruction. They didn’t care about the death of a digital body compared to the spectacle of watching such an event.

  “No, she’s an Ultimate Edition. She has to be. It’s got to be her. Look at her ID,” the first responded.

  “Shazam! You can do it! Let’s go, lads!”

  Those Travelers who played to fight shook off their stupor in unison. Their weapons were lifted high as a mob of battle junkie players charged forth together. They ran toward certain digital death in the form of a humongous giant made of smoke and darkness.

  “Help her!”

  “Let her guild know! Tell everyone what’s going on!” another Traveler shouted to his fleeing friends.

  In moments, players all over [Arcadia] saw guild messages talking about the chaos of [King Nero’s Castle]. They also spoke of Shazam’s resurrection. The highest Warrior Path in the game, slayer of dragons, conqueror of the [Tower of Stars] and [Plane of Smoke], Sword Princess, and guild leader of [Valhalla Knights] had returned.

  An hour later, the creature had laid waste to the town. Players of all types lay dead or dying. Others hid or sifted through rubble. Some organized friends in a search for lost NPCs.

  The dirt took a long time to settle. It rolled around in pockets for another twenty minutes before daring to touch down. A few Locals and Travelers alike could be heard stumbling through the debris as people dared venture toward where the battle had been fought. Those who arrived were rendered speechless.

  In front of them was a giant hole in the ground. Its bottom sat far out of sight, even from those Travelers with [Eagle Eyes]. The castle had vanished as if the world had opened to swallow remove the aberration of King Nero’s castle.

  Two players jumped in
holding hands. Locals could only watch. The Travelers’ yells echoed up without end.

  Shazam looked expressionless despite the rapid beating of her heart. Weapons were scattered everywhere. Her face tilted toward the hole first, then toward an unknown location far away. The woman walked toward the west. Her voice cracked from the effort of speaking but no word came out. She tried again and again as she traveled.

  Victim Update: Elizabeth Legate (Liz)

  Location: Her Home

  In Her Words: Is it so hard to ask for things to work out? I’m half tempted to join a church and beg for divine assistance in solving these problems. Maybe if I spend some time on my knees trying to worship god, instead of a self-centered asshole, I might get a little reciprocation.

  There’s only so much a woman can handle, you know? It’s bad enough I’m reaching a boiling point with Beth. God help me if she starts failing classes, then I’ll have to do… something.

  Never mind. Punishing a teenager is like pushing a boulder uphill. I should let her make her own bed. So what if she spends more time in a fantasy world than in reality? Weren’t half the kids I went to school with the same way?

  Especially Beth’s father. He looked good, he had been interested, but that video-game-playing idiot couldn’t be bothered to return a phone call once I came up pregnant.

  All men are idiots.

  Her latest date hadn’t gone well. As a result, Liz had been drinking. Not a lot. In moderation. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was control herself around liquor. Her brother had rather firmly outlined the possibilities of indulging too much.

  Still, after such a lousy date, relaxation-inducing beverages helped. In an hour, she would be asleep—alone again. At least she wasn’t one of those pill poppers doped up on happy drugs. Liz snorted into her bourbon-filled coffee mug.

  “At least I’m grounded in reality,” she muttered before taking another swig.

  Liz’s feet walked a tired path to the upstairs computer interface. Sensors around the room were implanted to detect motion and words, and would respond accordingly.