by Phoenix Ward
“It sounds to me like a bunch of hypothetical fear,” Tera said. “You don’t know what the people will do until you give them the chance.”
“But there would be no second chance with a mistake that big,” Councilman Harring said. “We can’t afford to risk it. But as chief of police — you could make those changes without depriving the city of its leadership. What do you say?”
Tera lowered her gaze, staring at the metal plating that covered her thighs.
“No,” he replied. “I won’t tell you anything.”
Councilman Harring took in a deep breath, despite his lack of lungs. Tera could see she was wearing on his patience and that made her a little happy, considering the circumstances.
“Then I have another offer, Ms. Alvarez,” the holographic man said. He turned to a spot in the round wall just between two bookcases. He made a wave, and a mechanism within the wall started to hum. A seam appeared, marking a doorway that slid open, revealing the darkness behind it. Tera struggled to gaze through the opening, but couldn’t make anything out.
The sound of footsteps came from the entrance, and a naked woman walked into the room. Tera’s electric eyes went wide as she looked over the human. The woman was in her early twenties — possibly even a teenager. Short blonde hair skimmed her tan shoulders as she stared lifelessly ahead. Her gaze didn’t focus on either Tera or the holographic councilman. She stopped just before the seated bodyshell and remained silent.
“What’s going on?” Tera asked. “Who is she?”
“She could be you, if you wanted,” Harring replied. He started to circle the naked woman, admiring her physique. “This body could be yours, if you’re willing to be my friend.”
Tera cast a sour frown at the councilman. “My body?” she asked. She looked back at the immaculate form before her. The muscles were so toned — the skin so smooth. Tera couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like to be in such a body. To be able to stretch and feel to gentle tug of tendons. To feel the wind over her bare skin. To enjoy the caress of a lover.
“Everything works,” the holographic man said, returning his gaze to the bodyshell. “And when the day comes that they don’t, the Council will provide you a replacement — just as attractive, too.”
“A replacement,” Tera echoed. Her voice sounded miles away.
She stared at the naked woman’s face, peering deep into her brown eyes. There was no life behind them, but there had been. Tera could tell. Who had this girl been before the Council took her mind? Who could she have been if she was allowed to live? Where is her family, and do they know what’s become of their beautiful daughter? Tera almost couldn’t bear to look any longer. The naked girl represented everything that was wrong with the Council and Harring himself — and they were trying to use her like a bribe. Like a commodity, to be given away.
35
Divinity
It’s still dark, the young king thought, raising his gaze to the heavens. Where am I?
He could feel a calm breeze on his face. A couple of stray grass blades tickled his ankles. It felt like he wasn’t wearing any clothes at all and he couldn’t figure out why.
As he stared through the inky darkness of night, his eyes started to adjust to the dim light. Large shapes started to take form before his eyes, the bright dots of starlight helping to differentiate them. He could make out a large mountain dominating the horizon ahead of him, blocking out the stars from the sky.
King Hum scanned his surroundings as his vision became brighter. He stood at the precipice of a steep plateau that overlooked a wild valley. Trees grew around seas of unkempt grass, teeming with small communities of birds and woodland creatures. Hum could hear the critters chatter to each other, calling out for mates. Through the middle of the valley ran a narrow stream. The low trickling of water rode the wind up to his ears, carrying with it the sweet aroma of the woods.
The young monarch turned to examine the plateau he stood upon. A lone tree with a winding and twisting trunk drew his attention — as did the robed man beside it.
King Hum couldn’t make out the stranger’s face quite yet in the dim of the night — but the sun was rising. The colors along the horizon transitioned into a rainbow gradient, lighting up the world around them. It seemed like someone put the universe on fast forward, and while King Hum watched, the sun appeared in the sky, sliding up to illuminate the valley.
The young king had to shield his eyes at the sudden sunlight. Squinting, he tried to make out the man standing beside the ancient tree. His eyes started to adjust to the brightness, the figure appearing as just a silhouette before him. Then, he saw the stranger’s face.
It was himself. At least, it appeared to be his mirror image.
The robed king smiled as recognition and shock became clear on the naked one’s face.
“Greetings,” the robed Hum said.
“What’s going on?” the naked one asked. “Where am I?”
“Where you should be, child,” the doppelganger replied. “Look into the valley. Do you see its bounty?”
The nude king squinted at the other. “Who are you?” he asked. “You look just like me.”
Warmth bled into the robed Hum’s smile. A twinkle shone in his eye.
“I am God, my child,” he said. “I look like you because I am within you. You are God as well. I am in everything. Everything is in me.”
The unclothed king stared at the other in awe, his lips parted in stunned silence. His face seemed to drain of blood, then he took a humble bow before the robed man.
“Rise, Hum,” the doppelganger said. “There’s no need to bow here. Not to anyone.”
“I don’t understand,” King Hum said. “Why have you come to me?”
The robed Hum gestured for the other to join him. He turned to face the rising sun.
“Look into the valley,” he instructed. “Do you see how pristine it is? How wild the grass grows? How free the wind blows?”
“It is remarkable,” King Hum replied. “Simply divine.”
The other smiled in response. “This was how the world used to be,” he said. “Natural. Perfect. But it’s different now.”
King Hum nodded, blushing. “I apologize for those who came before me,” he said. “What has been done to the Earth is bound to be mankind’s worst mistake.”
“When done wrong, yes,” the robed Hum replied.
The nude king tilted his head, confused.
“My child, did you think I had no plans to change our planet?” the clothed one asked. “I don’t approve of the destruction in some places, but humanity was meant to adapt. To evolve. And with them, so too shall the world around them.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“The world cannot shape itself,” God said. “It is alive and vibrant, but it needs craftsmen to reshape it. The world needs to evolve in so many different ways, but it needs help to do so. In order to change the world, though, a person must first change themselves. Even if it means losing the thing they cherish most.”
“I wish I were wise enough to understand,” King Hum said, bowing his head in humble embarrassment.
“I speak in riddles, my child; there is no error on your part,” the robed man replied, a warm smile permanently stitched onto his lips. “Allow me to be clearer: it’s time to shed the body, Hum. The human body.”
The young king recoiled a little, his confusion growing. “Shed my body?” he asked.
“To ascend to the next stage of evolution. To become closer to me, my child.”
“But — is it my time to die?” King Hum asked. There was no fear in his tone, just bewilderment.
“You won’t be dying, my child,” God replied. “You’ll be reborn. You’ll become what all your people must become before joining the great spirit and my ranks. All you have to do is walk through the door.”
As the words left his lips, a simple doorway appeared from thin air. Aside from the manner it materialized, there was nothing remarkable about it. Constructed
of cheap wood, the white-painted door swung open on old brass hinges.
Beyond the frame was pitch black. The robed man turned and smiled at the nude one, who stared into the void with aghast eyes.
36
Red Pill
“Come on,” Gauge said, scanning the interior of Sharpe’s basement. “We’ve got a limited amount of time to work with.”
Ethan couldn’t help but smile. “They tried to convince me you were part of a video game,” he said. “They tried to tell me I was imagining things — but I knew. I knew you’d be coming for me.”
“That’s great, kid,” Gauge replied, “Now come on!”
Ethan followed the People’s Union rebel up the stairs that let out through Sharpe’s home base and onto the Street. Everything seemed so much more static than it had before, like they were walking through a frozen timescape of the world around them. It didn’t just feel like they were alone, but like the map was glitching out on them. Ethan could swear he saw a bit of the textures on Sharpe’s sofa fade in and out of existence, like some old-school video game.
“They’re bound to be waiting for us this time,” Gauge said. He never looked back at Ethan while he led them out of the building.
Ethan shielded his eyes from the bright artificial sun when they opened the front door. It took a moment to adjust to the light and see the movement of over a dozen forms in the street. His heart jumped a little as he recognized rifles being raised. He saw police vehicles parked sideways to block off traffic. The cops, all wearing riot gear, had bright blue skin and dagger-sharp teeth. It seemed the system’s local antivirus software took the form of alien police officers.
“Hands up!” one of the creatures barked, his firearm at eye-level, the stock in his shoulder.
Ethan turned to Gauge with a look of panic. The I.I. seemed alert, but not afraid. Like he was prepared for this moment and just had a bit of stage anxiety.
“Nah,” said Gauge, addressing the alien cop who barked the order at them. “I don’t think we’ll be doing that.”
The redheaded man reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved what Ethan could only describe as a ball of lightning. Gauge hurled the thing right into the thick of the xeno-cops, then turned away, taking Ethan with him. The police officers panicked when the object landed by them, trying to scramble over each other and dive out of the way. It was too late, though. It detonated with a powerful concussion, pushing the vehicles away with sheer force. The light that emanated from the burst was so bright, Ethan had to shut his eyes, even while facing the other direction. He heard shouts of panic and pain from the aliens but didn’t dare turn to watch. It felt like a million lifetimes, but it was really only the blink of an eye.
Gauge let Ethan go and they both spun around to look at the xeno-cops, all scattered on the street, trying to figure out which way was even up. They staggered around with outstretched arms, or just scrawled on the asphalt, trying to find some shelter. Ethan couldn’t help but admire the authenticity of their confusion; it wasn’t like the program that ran the security was crashing or running into an error, but like actual people were blinded and frightened for their own safety. He rubbed his eyes, making sure his vision hadn’t been destroyed. Then he looked over at Gauge, who was rummaging through his pockets again.
“They’ve really beefed up security this time,” he commented. “They don’t want us to leave like we did last time. This time, they’re fighting back.”
“So what do we do?” Ethan asked. He kept feeling like dark spots were taking over the corners of his vision.
“We can’t take an escape hatch,” Gauge replied, pulling out an abstract red ball no larger than a grape from his pocket, “so we’re gonna go out the front door.”
With a flick of his wrist, the red ball went sprawling out onto the street, away from the crowd of disoriented officers. With a low pop and a thin wisp of smoke, an autocar not unlike the one Ethan and Tera had taken to Opes materialized. The polymer frame made a little squeak as it scraped across the pavement. Gauge started moving towards the vehicle without a moment’s hesitation, gesturing at Ethan to do the same. Together, they rushed past the blinded xeno-cops, who were still trying to find something to hold onto, and into the autocar’s cabin.
Gauge started punching in commands to the vehicle’s console before he even took a seat in the pilot’s position. Once Ethan was in the vehicle, the door shut behind him and the autocar started to lift off.
“You’re gonna want to get in a seat,” Gauge said. “And buckle in.”
Ethan stumbled toward the front of the vehicle and sat down beside the redheaded man. With a bit of fumbling, he found the buckle to his harness and secured it.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
Gauge pointed to the sky. “Straight up,” he answered. “We’re going to break out of the simulation by smashing through the ceiling.”
“Just like the Glass Elevator,” Ethan commented.
Gauge cast him a sideways glance, then took the vehicle into a nose-first ascent toward the heavens.
The force of acceleration pushed Ethan deep into his seat. He tried to reach out and hold onto the arms, but he couldn’t move his hands. It was like the chair had turned into an impossibly strong vacuum, and there was no escape from it. He could feel the flesh around his eyes tighten as it started being pulled away from the center of his skull. Even his eyes seemed powerless to do much more than roll back toward the pull of gravity.
A loud burst came from behind them and the autocar shook. Ethan felt the vibrations even through the turbulence around them. He tried to look back, but the acceleration held him firm.
“They’re chasing us,” Gauge said with some strain. It seemed the forces of acceleration weren’t quite as intense for him as it was for the human. He reached forward and pressed something, and a loud whoosh came from under the autocar. “That’s our only flare.”
Another burst shook the vehicle. This time, Ethan could see a glow of red light surround the autocar. As far as he could tell, the alien police officers were pursuing them in their own aircraft, shooting lasers across their bow. Gauge did what he could to evade the projectiles, but there were too many for it to be possible. It was like the xeno-cops were trying to create their own fireworks display using only deadly lasers.
“Hang on,” Gauge said, pulling a lever on the left side of the control console.
A loud roar of wind rushed into Ethan’s ears, forcing them to pop immediately. He could see the door to the autocar slide open while the air inside the cabin rushed out of the opening. Gauge’s red beard fluttered around his pink face as he pushed something on the control console. One of the seats in the back bolted loose from the floor panels, tilting back as the full forces of gravity worked on it. The opening was just large enough to let the seat tumble through and out into the air.
Ethan turned and saw the object fly down at one of the alien cop vehicles like a missile. The pilot tried to maneuver away from the incoming projectile, but it was too late. The chair smashed through the xeno-cop’s cockpit, engulfing the entire aircraft in a ball of flames. Gauge pulled the lever back up and the door started to close.
“Don’t do that with my seat!” Ethan shouted once the air pressure started to normalize.
The blue of the sky was starting to darken, shade by shade. The inky space behind the digital planet’s atmosphere was starting to reveal itself; Ethan could even make out a star or two through the shaking windshield.
With a skull-shattering roar, the autocar split open. The concussion of the blast threw Ethan against his restraints, which cut deep into his digital flesh. An alarm sounded from all around them, a red light flashing above.
“They’ve hit the engine block!” Gauge said, looking over his instruments. “Power’s still on but we’ve got no thrust.”
“Shit!” Ethan shouted, clutching onto his seat.
“We’re going down!” cried Gauge. “Brace your — brace your — brace your — ”
> Eyes ablaze, Ethan glanced over at his pilot. Just like Sharpe only a few minutes prior, the redheaded man was strobing in and out of existence. He kept repeating his last line as the autocar flipped around and pointed straight back down at the earth.
“Gauge?” Ethan asked.
The I.I. didn’t respond; he just kept repeating those two words, flickering like a bad projection.
Is he being kicked out of the system? Ethan wondered. Or — was this all just another simulation?
Ethan watched the ground rush up to meet them through the windshield.
“Gauge!” he shouted. “Come on buddy, don’t do this to me!”
The autocar collided into the street below.
Ethan jolted forward. He almost fell out of his chair.
“He’s back!” Sharpe said from the couch beside him. They were in the basement.
Ethan looked around. His face fell; his blood froze. Taylor and Sharpe were looking at him with expectant expressions.
“How was the second run, buddy?” Sharpe asked. “Did it all play out the same way?”
37
No
Councilman Harring watched Tera as her mind went a million miles a second. The naked woman stood in the middle of the study, staring blankly ahead as if caught in a trance. The light of the councilman’s hologram reflected off the lobotomized girl’s skin while Tera scanned her over.
She couldn’t deny how attractive the meat puppet was. Tera had always dreamed of being so beautiful, but she knew it was nothing more than a pipe dream. Now that the chance was standing right before her, bare to the elements, she found herself stricken with decision paralysis.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to taste ice cream. Ever since she was a little girl, just a lost intelligence among a mass of other I.I.s, she wanted to try the frozen desert she’d heard so much about. Even the slum dwellers could try ice cream, if they wanted to. Instead, they spent their time shooting up drugs or hiring whores — why weren’t they all eating ice cream? Chocolate, vanilla, pistachio, strawberry — she wanted to try them all. She wanted ice cream with chocolate chips in it, or chunks of raw cookie dough. She wanted it in a cone, thrown into a bowl and covered in sprinkles so she could try it all.
