Cyber

by Terry Schott

  The view shifted to a political leader standing at a podium. “This new game is causing people to stop showing up for work. There are serious concerns that garbage collection, water treatment, and many other essential services are suffering as a result of this. To this end, I will be introducing a new bill into our local legislature, mandating that citizens must work or suffer dire penalties for failing to do so. I would urge our federal government, as well as every nation around the world to implement similar measures. If this is not treated seriously, then it is my fear civilization will soon crumble from the inside out.”

  Ivan grabbed the remote and muted the volume. “I assume it keeps droning on with the same theme?”

  “Yeah.”

  He ran one hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  “Disappointed. I thought most could control themselves. Play for a few hours and then get back to work.”

  Ivan laughed. “Since when have people ever behaved themselves?”

  She looked at the television. “Individuals lose control, populations typically do not. Governments will pass laws to ensure people play a bit and then exit so that everything remains as it should.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  Loredana pursed her lips and did not reply.

  Ivan nodded at the television. “They are already blaming us for the problem.”

  She scowled. "People like to do that. Blame others for their choices.”

  Loredana’s phone rang. She looked at it for a moment before answering. “Hello?”

  She rubbed one eye. “Hi, Darnell. Of course, ask me whatever questions you like.” She looked at Ivan. “That’s fine, I don’t mind being on the record.” She pushed a button and activated speakerphone.

  “Thanks, Loredana. I want to give you a quick heads-up. Anything you say during this conversation will be on the record and I will use whatever I need for tonight's newscast. Is that okay with you?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Here we go then. How do you respond to those saying your product is causing serious problems throughout communities all over the world?”

  “I agree with them.”

  “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Politicians and leaders are demanding that you fix this.”

  “Do they say how they would like me to do so?”

  “No.”

  Loredana shook her head. “I entertain people, Darnell. Governments are the ones that tell people what to do.”

  "But they don't seem to know what to do."

  "Then they should ask for help."

  There was a pause on the line. “Will you help them?”

  “If they have the courage to call me and ask, of course I will.”

  “Okay thanks, Loredana. I appreciate you talking with me.”

  “Any time, Darnell.” She touched a button on the phone and turned it off.

  Ivan reached for a bag of potato chips. “How long before a politician calls?”

  “Less than ten minutes.” She held out one hand and Ivan held the bag toward her. She reached in and grabbed a handful of chips. “Refresh my memory, Ivan.”

  “On what?”

  “Quantum batteries power the Magma consoles?”

  “Correct.”

  “Which allows them to stay powered for how many years again?”

  “Three thousand years, give or a take a decade.”

  Loredana nodded. She opened her mouth to say something else, but her phone rang. She leaned over it to check the caller ID. “How long did that take?”

  “Less than ten minutes.” Ivan laughed.

  Loredana pushed the speakerphone button once more. “Hello, Madame President. How can I help you?”

  #31

  Akira raised her shoulders, shifting the heavy armour plating so that it stopped cutting into her skin for a moment. “Sometimes this crap is too real.”

  A muscular man standing eight feet tall laughed. “Too real. That’s hilarious. Outside of Transition, I am five-foot-three-inches tall and can’t lift fifty pounds.” His muscles bulged as he reached for the double-bladed axe on the ground in front of him. “I will take this real over the genuine one any day.”

  Akira smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but a tremendous roaring came from the edges of the mist and a cloud of orange flame burst forth. “Dragon!” she shouted before slamming the visor of her helmet closed. She screamed her regular battle cry, pulled the great sword from its sheath on her back and began running toward the danger. As she got closer, Akira sensed the heat against her armour and the ground shook as the great beast moved to attack. She laughed and jumped forward . . .

  And opened her eyes in her bedroom.

  “What the hell?” She squinted, sharp pain piercing the base of her neck and shooting up into her eyeballs.

  “Time for school, young lady.”

  “Mom! Did you kick me from Transition?”

  Her mother frowned. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Jennifer. I turned that horrible game console off because it’s time for school.”

  “Wow.” Jennifer stood and stomped toward the hall, snatching her towel from a peg near the door. “School could have waited another stupid ten minutes, Mom. You didn’t have to do that.”

  Her mom said something but Jennifer was already in the bathroom. She slammed the door and turned on the water.

  ***

  Jennifer sat at the kitchen table and reached for a box of corn flakes as she did her best to ignore her mother, who stood at the kitchen sink.

  Her brother Derek—a couple years younger than her—finished his mouthful of cereal and grinned. “How did Akira do? It was the dragon today, right?”

  Jennifer poured cereal into her bowl and grimaced at her little brother. “Akira was ambushed and killed just as she was engaging with the dragon.”

  Derek groaned. “You serious? That sucks. You’ve been fighting to get to that battle for over two weeks.” He shook his head and took another bite of cereal. “What was it that got you?” Milk ran down his chin.

  “Her.” Jennifer shot her mother an angry look and began to pour milk into her bowl.

  “It’s not my fault you cut it so close to school.” Her mother shook her head. “I told you when we got that Magic thing—”

  “Magma,” both kids said in unison.

  “What? Yeah, Magma. I said that it could not interfere with school, and you agreed.”

  “It’s not.”

  Her mother raised her eyebrows. “Oh really? Tell me again, Miss A-Student. What grades are you pulling since we got that horrible gadget?”

  Jennifer looked down at her bowl.

  “Cs and Ds!” Derek said in a singsong voice.

  Jennifer kicked him under the table.

  “Ow!”

  “That’s right,” her mother said. “You’re lucky that I let you play the thing at all.”

  “You said I had until my report card came home,” Jennifer mumbled. “Then if things are better than they were at midterm, I get to keep playing.”

  “Jen’s gonna fail.” Derek waved his spoon in her face, laughing as she hit it out of the way with her own. “Then I’m gonna get her Magma console all to myself.”

  “You certainly will not.”

  Derek looked at his mother and frowned.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” Her mother nodded toward the small television sitting on the counter. “Sounds like all the Magpies—”

  “Magmas,” the kids said together.

  “Magmas.” Their mother nodded. “Looks like they are all going to be useless soon anyway.”

  “Why?” Jennifer frowned.

  “Seems the adults are playing it more than kids. The president made a big speech this morning, asking people to do the responsible thing and stop playing.”

  Jennifer snorted. “People won’t stop.”

  “Why not?” Her mother looked confused. �
�They just have to shut the things off and get back to work.”

  Jennifer laughed. “I know that if I was an adult and living on my own, I would never come out of Transition again. I would die in there.”

  “Jennifer!” her mother shouted. “Don’t speak like that.”

  Jennifer shrugged and took another bite of food.

  “I’m sure the president’s message will force people to become responsible citizens once more instead of playing games while missing work.”

  Jennifer looked at her brother. He smiled and both of them shook their heads at the same time.

  #32

  Loredana and Ivan sat at one end of the enormous table, surrounded by men and women of different nationalities, politicians from various countries who ignored the pair as they spoke to each other and waited for the president of the free world to arrive.

  “Are we invisible?” Ivan asked, his tone faint.

  A woman sitting next to them looked their way, glaring before turning back to resume her conversation with another woman.

  Loredana chuckled. “Worse than invisible. I bet everyone in this room would give anything if we had never been born.”

  Ivan snorted and leaned back, crossing his arms.

  The door to the room opened and everyone stopped speaking. The president strode in, striding toward her seat as she nodded to a few choice leaders. She took her seat and glanced around the table, pausing on Loredana and Ivan before moving on. “Thank you all for coming. I appreciate the effort that each of you made in getting here as soon as possible. Travel is not easy to do with the current state of society.” She raised one eyebrow and sighed before looking at her aide. “Is anyone else coming who we should wait for?”

  Her aide shook his head.

  “Very well, then.” The president looked at Loredana. “Miss Cyber, please tell us how you plan to fix the present situation.”

  Loredana shook her head and frowned. “I’m confused.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for starters”—Loredana shielded her eyes and squinted—“you are sitting so far away from me that I can barely see you. Can you even hear me? I’m shouting, by the way, so if my tone sounds normal then that’s another good indicator of how far away from you I actually am.”

  The president scowled. “Of course I can see and hear you.”

  “You’re the president, and pretty important. I know this because everyone waited for you to get here.” She looked at Ivan. “They even shut up when she sat down, which means she must be important, right?”

  Ivan nodded, raising his eyebrows.

  “I am running this meeting.” The president’s tone sounded annoyed.

  “That’s where my confusion comes from. If this is your show, then why are you asking me, someone sitting far away and being ignored by half the room and being encouraged to die by foul looks from the other half, how I plan to fix things?”

  “You caused this problem, and I have been told you can solve it.”

  Loredana laughed. “I did not cause this problem, but I’m not interested in having that discussion with you. Regardless, I told many of you over the phone how I could fix it. If that’s why we are here, then stop being politicians. We don’t need to sit here and talk for hours only to arrive at a point we reached days ago.” She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow as she looked at the president. “Ask me.”

  The president glared at Loredana, her brow furrowed. After almost a full minute, she regained her composure. She nodded and smiled. “Fine. Miss Cyber, will you please turn your game off so that our citizens can return to this reality?”

  “I can kick them all out of my game. Yes.”

  “Then please do so.”

  “It is not going to give you the result you want.”

  “It won’t eject them from your game?”

  “It will, but it won’t make things better. People are not going return to this reality and be happy.” She shook her head. “They will want to go back in.”

  The president nodded. “Perhaps at first. As time passes, they will forget the experience and things will return to normal.”

  “You believe that?”

  “I do.”

  Loredana sighed and held out her hand.

  Ivan reached into his pocket and handed her his phone. “Red button.”

  Loredana looked at the phone and touched a spot with her finger. Then she handed it back to Ivan and sat down as he returned it to his pocket. “There ya go.”

  The president frowned. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Every citizen has been ejected from Transition.”

  The president looked doubtful, but nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Loredana shook her head. “What you just did is going to make the problem I caused look like a walk in the park.”

  #33

  Henry Cyber looked out the window of the uppermost tower of the castle, hands behind his back, watching the couple far below walk along the cliff edge. There was a knock at the door behind him. He spoke without turning. “Come.”

  The door opened and a woman entered. She closed the door behind her and joined Henry at the window, mirroring his stance as her eyes traced his line of sight. “Ah, Oscar’s daughter is visiting.”

  Henry barely nodded. “The third time in as many days.”

  “Have you met her yet?”

  “No.”

  The two watched for a few heartbeats.

  “I think that we should throw a banquet for her.”

  The woman considered the idea. “It would certainly be a fine way for her to meet everyone. The clan is thankful for her efforts.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Shall I make the preparations?”

  “If you wish. Involve as many of the others as would like to help.”

  The woman laughed. “Every Cyber who ever led your worldwide corporation resides in this zone. That’s a lot of alpha wolves, Hank.”

  Henry’s chuckle resembled a growl. “I suppose expecting them to work together at such a mundane task would be a recipe for problems.”

  “Having them living so close together is becoming a problem.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you have a solution?”

  “Yes.” He nodded toward the window. “And my granddaughter will help me with it very soon, I think.”

  The woman leaned over and kissed Henry on the cheek. He ignored the gesture and continued looking out the window. “I’ll go invite her now.”

  “Hurry. She is about to leave.”

  The woman waved one hand in front of her and dissolved with a shimmer.

  “I will be back later.” Loredana kissed her father on the cheek and he smiled.

  “Good luck, Lore.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, but opened them as the sound of shimmering air announced an arrival.

  A woman appeared a few feet away. “Don’t leave quite yet. I need to ask you something first.”

  Loredana appraised the woman. Five foot-eight inches tall, the woman was beautiful with jet black hair cropped in a pixie cut similar to her own. Her eyes were a fascinating reddish brown and she walked with a lithe grace reminiscent of a hunting cat. Her smile appeared genuine as she pulled Loredana into an embrace. “What a pleasure to finally meet you, dear.”

  “Likewise. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don’t know who you are.”

  “Don’t you recognize my voice?” The woman tilted her head and smiled. “I am the Pink Penguin.”

  “Of course!” Loredana laughed. “Forgive me. It is difficult to recognize your voice now that it is so clear and non-mechanical. Your figure has improved as well. You were a large robotic penguin for a long time.”

  The woman laughed. “I'm much happier in the new form.” Loredana opened her mouth to speak but the woman continued. “Henry, the greatest of your grandfathers, wants to throw a banquet with you as the guest of honour.”

  “Me?” Loredana plac
ed one hand over her heart. “There’s no need for that.”

  Oscar laughed and the woman’s eyes widened. “There most certainly is. You helped us return from limbo. The animatronix devices may have prolonged our lives, but they were terrible things to be stuck in.” She shivered. “All of us are in your debt and we want to thank you properly.”

  “Well, I suppose that would be okay.”

  “Good. It will be a traditional Scottish banquet. We will begin two days from now at noon just as the shadow of the castle touches the tables in the front courtyard. There will be food, entertainment, and you will finally get to meet everyone.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  The lady curtsied, pretending to hold the folds of a gown between her fingers. “Until then.” She straightened and snapped her fingers, disappearing.

  “It looks as if we will see you in two days,” Oscar said.

  “I did not get Pink Penguin’s real name.”

  “She was likely so excited that she forgot to tell you. She is an old member of the family, around almost as long as Henry.”

  “She looks good for someone that old.”

  Oscar laughed. “Don’t we all. Her name is Desdemona Thorne.”

  #34

  “Stacey?”

  “What?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “You kidding me, Arnie?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh for—” Stacey raised her head and looked up at the man standing on the other side of her desk. “What?”

  Arnie frowned. “You don’t look too good.”

  She glared at him.

  “I mean”—he shook his head—“I know men aren’t supposed to say that to women, but . . .” He looked at his hands and then back at her. “Still, I’m just saying—”

  “Look.” She sighed and sat up in her chair. “They unplugged Transition and told us all to go back to work, so I’m back to work.” She reached out and adjusted her monitor, which was pointing at the floor. “I don’t know what they want us to do here.” She spread one arm to indicate the other people sitting at desks, slouching and looking at their computers with as little interest as Stacey had been. “Truth is that no one here gives a flying crap if work gets done or not.”