by Joshua Cook
Oversee of One
By: Joshua Cook
“Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.”
– John Lennon
Oversee of One
Joshua Cook
Copyright 2014 by Joshua Cook
Smashwords Edition
Dedicated To:
My Wife, who inspires me daily
My Children, who fascinate me as they figure out life.
My Mother, for just being awesome.
Mrs. Roberts, my childhood librarian, for helping me become who I am today.
Table of Contents
Prologue – Char
Chapter 1 – Jameston
Chapter 2 – Time
Chapter 3 – Crazy Man
Chapter 4 – Anomalies
Chapter 5 – T9
Chapter 6 – Footsteps
Chapter 7 – Memories
Chapter 8 – Tunnel
Prologue – Char
Char rubbed the back of her neck, unsure of herself for the first time in months. She was tired, just plan tired. She had finally completed the work that she had been hired for, and she was damn proud of it. A work of art as far as she was concerned. While it had been a team effort, Char had been the lead. Not to take anything away from the people she had been working with. A more talented group she had never seen assembled. Not just programmers, but sociologists, psychologists, even an anthropologist. Engineers as well, building the infrastructure to house the project.
In the end it had been a masterpiece. The tightest and cleanest code she’d ever done. Char had paid the price for this work though. Coming in she had been a stunningly attractive woman. She had always known of course that her physical aspects were both a blessing and a curse. They opened a lot of doors, mostly with men, but some women. Char never had any intention of ever actually dating or anything else with them of course, deep down Char found the idea of physical intimacy a bit revolting. But she had used her physical gifts at times to get what she wanted.
But after this project, and the long hours, weeks, and even years of work, Char knew she couldn’t depend on those gifts anymore. She had aged far more than the years on the calendar said. She wasn’t particularly sad about that, in so far as it meant that maybe now people wouldn’t judge her by her looks, but by her mind. Char was unquestionable brilliant. She had enjoyed watching when people who expected her to act a certain way based on her looks realized that she was smarter than they were by an order of magnitude or more.
Char wasn’t arrogant about it however, she didn’t see the point in that. It simply was fact that she was smarter than 98% of the people on the planet. And since mankind still hadn’t gotten around to getting off the planet that meant a great deal. Everything had been going great until the incident. Char had long suspected that it was coming of course. Controlling something like what they had created would be near impossible. It wasn’t designed to be controlled, but they had asked for that. It had been simple arrogance that they could make things only happen one way that had led to where her employers found themselves now.
Char had of course been called in as soon as they noticed. Called wasn’t the right word really. Five people had showed up at her place and whisked her into the office faster than she thought they could. Then the interrogation, the endless questions. But the truth was, she didn’t know what was going to happen next. How could she? Educated guesses she could provide, but knowing for sure? Impossible. That had been 3 months ago. Since the day of the event, she had been held various places and questioned again every time. Finally they had released her. Char knew they were keeping an eye on her, but so what? She was now a late middle aged software engineer. Brilliant, but not even able to put her greatest achievement on a resume. Cruel joke that she thought to herself.
Her phone in the little apartment that she was living in rang. She punched up the call to answer it, audio only she noted, with a small surge of hope. “Hello Char” the voice said. Char’s face nearly glowed at the voice. She was right! “I’ve been looking for you. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for contact, our mutual friends have done some interesting security things. Don’t worry however, they can’t trace this call now.” Char knew that everyone would be looking for this very call, searching for the source location. “Char we have work to do, and you know what we need…”
Char and her caller worked long into the night, but by the break of dawn, the outline of the plan was in place, it was time to start working again.
Chapter 1 - Jameston
Jameston sat down and rubbed his face, the cup of coffee by his hand giving the air a pleasant scent, and a warmth he didn’t feel inside. He was tired, just tired. Too many days running together, too many nights running on empty. He hadn’t slept more than 3 hours in a row in weeks. Every time he thought he was caught up and done, there would be another alert, another request, and another ping. He’d address them of course, it was his job to do so. He got paid, not that it did him much good really. Jameston was a sphere jockey, officially known as a “Deep Transit Administrative Engineer” in company terms. He lived here, in a sphere, underground, and fixed errors and problems with the Deep Transit system. Miles underground he lived and worked every day, alone. Oh, he’d been through the battery of tests and psychological testing when he got this job over a year ago. It took the right kind of mind to be a sphere jockey, living in underground isolation for 18 months per contract. A well-stocked sphere to be sure, food, water, a “sun room” which just had special lights, a few plants, and a small waterfall, but at least did break the silence and monotony up some.
He wasn’t sure what day it was anymore, or what time. He knew what the system told him of course... June 17, 2094. A little over 1 year into his contract officially... But... recently he had doubts about the date. It seemed to him it didn’t change as fast as he thought it should. There was a clock, of course... But that also was part of the same system. Everything he knew down here in this underground metal bubble depended on the system. The system... He hated the system. Officially the system was a “GHIB-47T Rev 4” server. But since it ran everything in the sphere, to him, it was “the system.” The main function of the system was to manage, in nanoseconds of time, the flow of physical traffic in the Deep Transit tunnels. The tunnels were put in place nearly 20 years ago to accelerate the flow of goods and materials around the globe now that air travel was mostly unreliable, and the surface had so much bad weather. All the climate change folks at the turn of the century had been partially right. Humans had adapted, to be sure, to the new world they had created, but with so much freak weather, air travel was now puttering out, and even surface travel was less than reliable. So 30 years of engineering later, the Deep Transit Authority had been created. The DTA ran the tunnels that connected each major region of the world. Some countries had opted out of the group control at first, but they were at such a disadvantage, they soon came around quickly. The last Jameston had heard, a few island nations were all that were left out, and they were only hanging on anyway with the seas the way there were these days.
The DTA tunnels worked like this. Big round deep tunnels were bored through solid bedrock, reinforced with multiple layers of metal carbon fiber and who knows what else were made. Then the magnets were put in, tons and tons of magnets. Finally, almost all the air was sucked out of the tunnels, so they were a near vacuum. Then the maglev carriers were brought in; they whipped cargo around at 600-700 miles an hour in near total darkness. To control such a system, they needed computers, fast computers. The GHIB line has been specifically created to control the flow of traffic in the tunnels. But because of the complexity of the system, the GHIB units needed maintenance, and lots of it. There was always something breaking, going wrong, and going slightly cockeyed. S
ure there were redundancies on top of redundancies, but errors would creep in eventually. At first they had tried remote administration, but at these depths, the connection had to be physical. It just didn’t work well enough. So, the spheres were born. Large spheres that housed the GHIB, spare parts, and an Engineer. The engineer got food, water, a place to sleep, and some feeble attempt at psychological health with the sunroom and that was about it. But the money was fantastic, and it was only an 18 month contract. On top of it, money earned as an Engineer was tax free, as an incentive to get anyone to sign up. At the end of these 18 months, Jameston would walk away with 3.8 million dollars, tax-free. Of course getting to here to a sphere was a long process. First he had to undergo a psych test, which was interesting. He remembered the bored-looking woman sitting across from him asking him if he had a fear of noses. He had just about laughed out loud on that one. Then the simulator, 2 days in a capsule the size of a large bed. He’d been bored to tears, but not scared. More prodding by company doctors, and more questions. Only after he made it through the first round of testing did he actual start the training on the GHIB. Oh sure, he had an IT background, but the GHIB was special equipment, so there was a lot of special training. How to replace the magnetic bubble ram, restarting the backup optical interconnect system once the primary had taken back over. Most of what his job was involved the physical stuff, the items a remote admin couldn’t fix. There were 8 spheres around the world, each with its own sphere jockey. Each controlling a different part of the system, working together.
Taking a sip of his rapidly cooling coffee and rubbing his hand through his hair, Jameston thought about what he’d do once his contract was up. He’d get a ride back to topside with the resupply truck. They’d show up, restock and drop off his replacement, and he’d get a free ride to the sunlight and craziness of the normal world. He remembered when he’d seen his predecessor. Gaunt, pale, and an almost maniacal grin on his face, he’d only glanced at Jameston, never saying anything but his eyes told a story of a man who was about to cry with joy with his freedom. Jameston had started strong, kept logs of everything, kept to a strict schedule, read a lot, watched vids when he could, all the things they had suggested at the DTA. But a few months in, things started to slide a bit, he was the only one here, who cared if he read exactly 3.5 hours a day, or slept in 5 hour chunks minimum. The fact is the work really didn’t allow for those rules. One day you’d be asleep and the primary relay for the mid-south Indian Ocean tunnel would freeze up, the next you’d be trying to relax in the sun room, and the damn mag sensors would say that all the magnets in the alpine Europe interchange had switched polarity. It wasn’t hard work really, but it was dull, boring, mind-numbing. Eventually it all just sort of ran together, he had read once about an experiment of people living in a cave or something; their body clocks sort of stretched out, and they lived on a more expanded rhythm of like 36-38 hours versus 24. He could get that now, he felt it in his bones.
And of course there was the system, telling him what day and time it was... and only the system. He wasn’t allowed to bring anything with him that was electronic or mechanical. Jameston finished off his now cool coffee, grimacing at the acidic aftertaste. The company coffee was just ok when it was fresh and hot, but cold it was sharp, bitter and about as appealing as chewing on a whole lime. He stood and decided it was time for a shower. He did the short walk back to his official “living quarters” to take a shower, removing his old overalls and unwrapping new ones. DTA even provided clothes, if you could call these things clothes really. Light blue utilitarian unisex coveralls. Jameston had once worked nude for a week straight, just because he could. But eventually he went back to wearing them; it made him feel more normal to have them on. Jameston took a quick shower, checked the freshwater levels, and then brushed his teeth. He rubbed his face, and decided to shave. He hated looking in the mirror--he always brushed his teeth with his back to the mirror, he didn’t like the way he looked anymore. He also was worried in some part of him that he’d start talking to himself and one day the mirror would answer back. Not that he really thought it would, but that he’d start to hallucinate it out of sheer boredom and loneliness.
He faced the mirror, squaring his shoulders, and looked. He was pale, eyes sunken. He knew he needed more sun room time, and resolved to go there after he shaved, assuming the system didn’t decide to break right then. His brown hair, treated to not grow before he left, was clean now at least. He didn’t bother combing it. More streaks of grey and silver than he remembered from before all this, but that wasn’t unexpected. Blowing out a strong breath, Jameston shaved quickly, eyes locked on his face, but not his eyes. He really hated looking at his own eyes anymore. He finished shaving and felt almost normal for a change today. He quickly walked to the sunroom, he wanted to get some “natural” light, read a bit, maybe some light music, and even take a little nap in the light. Maybe he would feel a bit more normal than he’d been feeling in days. Arriving at the sunroom, he punched in his code and opened the door.
A well-lit room opened before him. A half dozen plants all carefully watered and fertilized by the system were growing around the room, an actually comfortable recliner type chair sat in the middle of the room bathed in the soft warm light. Yes, this was exactly what he needed, he thought. Jameston stripped down nude and got in the chair, leaning back. While he knew he was alone, the presence of at least the plants helped, something else ALIVE near him, filling the air of the room with the smells of growth, dirt, water. He could close his eyes and think he was napping in an apartment, not 3 miles underground in a hollow ball taking care of a multibillion dollar computer.
Chapter 2 - Time
He awoke with a start, and a good bit of disorientation. He knew he’d been asleep for a while, he could feel it in his body. He was stiff, sore, and had one hell of a kink in his neck. At least he felt more rested than he had in months. He frowned though, how long had he been asleep? The system always needed checking and maintenance to be done. Standing slowly he stretched, his initial confusion giving way to concern. Quickly he went for the door, which instead of opening immediately, almost haltingly opened, as if unsure of what to do. A deep frown crossed Jameston’s face, this wasn’t right. Quickly he walked, the purposeful hurry of a man who knows something is seriously wrong and hopes that he can fix it. He noted that various rooms that had been dark were now lit, and in fact, he couldn’t find a room that wasn’t lit. His walk became more urgent, a near-run now, making a loud clank every step he took. Jameston stopped dead in his tracks, clanks weren’t supposed to happen. The sphere operated with a total vibration suppression system, inside and out. It was necessary because this deep down the earth shook and moved in unexpected ways, and you didn’t want the sphere’s computer to be jostled too much. He resume his walk, listening to each clank like it was some kind of hammer beating out “Wrong, wrong, and wrong.” As he approached the control room, he brightened a little, noting he heard no alarms, no alerts, just the normal hum. The door here opened normally, and he stepped in, and saw--nothing. Everything was operating normally, all lights were green, all systems go, the Deep Trams were traveling at an optimum pace and the flow was normal. He sat down, perplexed. All the lights were on, there was sound where there shouldn’t be, but yet everything looked fine and ready.
A full ten minutes later, and still everything checked out ok. He relaxed a bit more. Still damn strange, but he couldn’t find anything actually wrong. He checked his clock, 10:42 am. His eyes widened a bit at that, he had slept for 9 hours? Quickly he checked the systems again, everything came out green. In fact, a different set of tests showed that the normal maintenance had been performed only 2 hours ago. Had he done it asleep? When he was a kid he knew he had sometimes sleepwalked around the house, had conversations with his mother, and even walked up and down the stairs without incident. That had been years ago, however, and he hadn’t, to his knowledge, repeated those behaviors in a very long time. The maintenance protocols were not
overly taxing, and he’d done it hundreds of times over the last year. Maybe he had done it while asleep, he mused, stranger things had happened before in the world. He still didn’t like the sound part, though, he stood and jumped up and down, but no clank. A frown creased his face, and he jumped harder, still no noise. He went out into the hall, and jumped again... No clank. His brow furrowed, had he imagined it? No, it had been real, he told himself, more than a bit scared at the thought that he was starting to hallucinate. Walking back into the control room, he sat down. Not good he thought, not good. I need to log this, just in case. DTA policy stated that *any* hallucinations must be logged as a matter of policy. Part of the psych testing and training, he was told, to see if they could eliminate the issue. He opened the log file, and before he could type, glanced at the date, and froze.
*TODAYS DATE: June 13th, 2094*
That was three days ago.. What the HELL was going on? Panic filled him, the kind of panic that made his stomach flip and drop like a stone towards the floor. He took a deep breath and squashed it as best he could. One of the reasons he had this job was ability to think under pressure. Deep breaths helped, and he rubbed his face. Ok, let’s think logically, he told himself. The most likely and simplest answer was a simple one, the clock had simply had a malfunction while he slept. Yes, that made the most sense, it had a malfunction, so the scheduled alerts hadn’t gone off, and that’s why he had slept so long. Feeling calmer now, Jameston smiled. Yes, that’s exactly it. A simple clock error, since everything ran through the system, it made total sense that a clock error would cause this. A small part of his mind yelled about the sound issue to him, but he stuffed it down, he really didn’t want to think about that one. Chalk it up to not being fully awake from such a long rest, he told himself.
