by Terry Schott
“We likely should.”
“I agree, but something in your tone tells me that we are not.”
Loredana smiled. “Let’s check it out.”
She moved through the forest and stopped at the edge of a clearing. In the middle sat an old-fashioned wrought iron bench with pigeons gathered in front, pecking at the ground. They scrambled every so often as the lone man, sitting on the bench with his back to her, flung a handful of crumbs to the ground. Loredana remained hidden behind the brush and watched him.
“I know you’re there,” he said. “Come on out so we can have a chat.”
Loredana sighed and moved into the open, walking around the outer edge of the clearing, wary of an attack. He smiled and looked back down at the pigeons to throw them more crumbs. She stopped a few feet from him and retracted her helmet into the back of her suit. “Henry.”
“Greatest of granddaughters.” He looked up and smiled as their eyes met.
“You look well.”
“As do you. Will you join me?”
“I assume that you’re not here to attack me or you would have already made your move.”
He dipped his head. With a quick twist of one button and a turn of another, she unlocked her battle suit and it fell away. She sat beside him, now clothed in a thin silver body suit and boots.
They sat and watched the pigeons for a time, Henry holding the bag toward Loredana and her grabbing a handful of crumbs to throw to them.
“Enjoying Transition?”
Henry chuckled. “Immensely.”
“It has been thirty-three days since you escaped from the other zone. I expected some sort of attack by now.”
“Why should we attack anyone or anything?”
“I know about you and the others.”
“Do you?”
“What you have done. The violence you commit as the Displaced.”
Henry was silent for so long that Loredana turned to look at him. What she saw in his expression surprised her. “You are either an incredible actor, or you have no idea what I am talking about.”
“I doubt you will believe me, but I promise to speak only the truth to you during this meeting, my dear girl.” He set the bag of crumbs on the bench. “I have never heard of the Displaced, or that I belong to such a group.”
Loredana frowned.
“Tell me about them.”
“I don’t know much. Simply that they are an old and powerful Family dedicated to accomplishing things which no other Families agree with.”
“When you speak of Families, do you refer to the ruling houses?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Fascinating.” A pigeon was sitting on his foot, and he moved it to make it flutter away. “I was going to tell you about them today, but it seems someone has beat me to it.”
"I do not know much. Only that they exist, and you oppose them.”
“Which makes me the bad guy?”
She nodded.
Henry laughed. “The Displaced. I do like the sound of that name. I like it very much. Who did you get this information from?”
Loredana hesitated. “I don’t want to say.”
“Was it the writer?”
She said nothing, but Henry smirked. “Well, well. It seems that I must speak with Shawn Whitehurst soon.”
“What do you want to talk to me about?”
“I want you to fully join the Family. Help us continue to move forward with the first phase of our plan.”
“First phase?”
“Well, to be fair, I think you may have completed the first phase for us. Close enough to call it a win, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I began Cyber Incorporated with one goal: to control the attention of every single person in the world.”
Loredana frowned. “What? Why would you want something like that?”
Henry shook his head. “I’ll get to that in a bit. Accept for now that was the plan and we were progressing very nicely with the method that I had selected.”
“Entertainment.”
“Exactly. I knew that by giving people a place to go, an escape from reality—even for a short time—they would remember the experience and think about returning as often as they could. At the time, the best method for such an escape was through amusement parks and fairy tales. I knew that by capturing their attention as children, it would be possible to hold a place in their hearts and brains for their lifetimes. When the first group of children grew up, it made perfect sense for them to share the wonders of youth with their own children. Slowly but surely, Cyber theme parks and entertainment would capture and hold the attention of the masses.”
“I see.”
“We grew from entertaining a few thousand at the start to millions of people from all over the world by the time you were of age to inherit.”
“Which I did not.”
“Indeed.” Henry threw another handful of crumbs to the birds. “That setback to our plans turned out fortunately for us. If you had taken over the old system, you would never have created the new one.” He reached over and patted her knee. “And I must admit, your system is light years ahead of the old one.”
“Transition holds their attention better than any physical park could have.”
Henry laughed and birds fluttered away. “You have accomplished what we always hoped for. By capturing a person’s attention for prolonged periods of time, it eventually becomes focus.” He leaned back and spread his hands. “Controlling large amounts of focus allows us to do some interesting things. With Transition, you have given us the control over billions which has been the goal for so long.”
“That was never my intent.”
Henry grinned. “Of course it was. You may not have known it, but your genes did. The essence of our family—the single-minded purpose for our existence—is to do what you have accomplished.”
Loredana’s brows furrowed as he watched her, a smile on his face.
“Now”—he clapped his hands together—“comes the moment when I answer why.”
“Okay.” Her frown deepened. “Tell me why.”
“I can’t tell you.” He reached down and pulled a pair of glasses from the bench beside him. “Words are ineffective.” He held the glasses toward her. “I can show you, though. Put these on, and all will be revealed.”
She reached for them and he pulled them back. “I did promise to be fully honest with you. Once the answer is revealed to you, I expect you to join the cause. The only way you walk out of this zone alive is as one of us, a full family member working toward our ultimate goal. Or you can leave without knowing.” Henry held the glasses toward her once more.
Loredana looked at the glasses, her lips pursed.
“And now you must choose.”
#51
Desdemona walked into the central gaming centre, strode to one of the floor-mounted panels, and waited patiently in the smallest line. She looked around her at the hundreds of players gathered, each waiting their turn to stand in front of a panel to check their stats, send communications to other players, or choose games and scenarios to play. The player at the console she was waiting for smiled and turned away, walking toward a wall and disappearing as a doorway opened. The line moved forward and Desdemona laughed.
The player in front of her smiled. “What’s so funny?” he asked over his shoulder.
“These lines.”
“What about them?”
“They aren’t necessary. Nothing about these centres is. It’s peculiar.”
The man turned and nodded. “I thought so at first, but I think it helps to ground us as well as put us into non-action social settings from time to time.”
“Okay.”
“I can see how you might think it a waste of time.” He turned to face her. “Are you new to Transition?”
She smiled and dipped her head, looking at the people in the line beside her.
“I’ve found that going from game to game can get boring.”
“Then maybe you’re picking the wrong types of games.”
He frowned. “I guess boring isn’t the correct word.” He tapped his chin. “Okay, not boring. But I think our senses need a rest from the excitement and stimulation. I’ve played very long games before, and feel numb by the end. The break of coming here, even when the lines are small, seems to give my psyche a chance to reset.” He nodded. “I think the centres help to make sure we don’t burn out or become desensitized to the wonders of Transition.”
Desdemona looked at him and arched one eyebrow. “I suppose I can buy that.” Her eyes flicked to the small coloured icon over his head. “You’re a Dreamer?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re the first Dreamer I’ve met. This is exciting.”
He laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal. There are a lot of us. I think over ten percent of all the players are Dreamers.”
“You create the new content, though. I find that interesting.”
“Tedious is more like.”
“You don’t enjoy it?”
His smile widened for a moment. “Oh, I absolutely do. It’s just not as glamorous a pastime as it sounds.”
“What do you mean?”
“Designing a game consists of sitting in an empty zone building it piece by piece. Then, when you have a sequence created, you run it to make sure there are no bugs. If there are, you fix them and move on to the next sequence.” He shrugged. “Exciting end product, boring process.”
Desdemona frowned. “Aren’t you worried?”
“About what?”
“The Malcode.”
He laughed. “That’s only a rumour.”
She shook her head. “My brother plays on Tranton server and told me it’s very real. Dreamers are dying and, when they do, all the programs they created are deleted.”
The Dreamer frowned. “I haven’t heard about it on this server.”
Desdemona reached out to touch him, pulsing an invisible wave into his arm before pulling away. “I’m afraid you will hear about it on this server.” She shook her head with mock sadness. “Very soon.”
He laughed but she could tell he was nervous. “I don’t have anywhere to go if I die here. I sincerely hope I don’t get it.”
“Me too.” She nodded and pretended to be interested by something on the ground. The Dreamer hesitated, then turned to face the front of the line.
Desdemona waited another couple of minutes, then left the line, moving to join a longer one, a Dreamer standing at the end of it.
#52
Loredana entered the main room of their complex and sat at the table. Shawn was already there, his expression grim. “Ivan will be with us in a couple of minutes.”
Loredana nodded and folded her arms as she stared at the table.
The door hissed open a few minutes later and Ivan joined them, his concerned expression matching theirs.
“How many Dreamers are dead?” she asked.
Ivan closed his eyes and leaned back, linking his hands behind his head. “Over three hundred million and the count continues to grow.”
The silence was overpowering.
Shawn chewed his lip. “Can it be stopped?”
Loredana blinked. “Ivan?”
“No.” Ivan’s eyes remained closed, his expression pained.
Shawn held his forehead with one hand. “Most of these people have no body to return to.”
Again there was silence.
“The Displaced are responsible for this?” Shawn asked.
Loredana and Ivan both nodded.
“I don’t understand why it’s just Dreamers that are dying.”
“I do.” Loredana’s pressed her lips together.
Ivan opened his eyes and sat forward. “Tell us.”
“The Displaced—”
“You mean Henry,” Ivan said.
“No. I mean all of them.” She paused. “The Displaced have a plan. They always have, and Dreamers are a threat to them.”
“How?” Ivan scowled. “What plan? Have you always known about this?”
“Of course not. If I had, instead of freeing them I would have crushed every last Animatronix unit and dumped them onto the ocean floor.” She told them of the meeting with Henry and his offer to share his plans with her. When she finished recounting the tale, Ivan appeared confused.
“So did you put the glasses on and pledge your allegiance with them or say no thanks?”
“She said no thanks,” Shawn said. “If she had joined them, she wouldn’t be telling us a thing.” He looked at Loredana and raised one eyebrow for confirmation.
“Shawn’s right. I did not put the glasses on.”
“Then how do you know their plan?” Ivan asked.
“I can guess. Even if I’m wrong, my theory is good enough to explain what they are doing and why.”
“What’s your theory?” Shawn asked.
“It’s simple. Imagine creating something which earns more money than you can ever spend.”
Ivan smiled. “Easy enough, since we’ve done it ourselves a couple of times.”
Loredana nodded. “And once you are secure from a financial point of view, then what?”
“Protect yourself,” Shawn said.
“How?”
“Use your unlimited free time and resources to influence the lawmakers and governments. Make it so that no one will come along to take away what you have built.”
Loredana nodded. “All the while making even more money and exerting more influence as time passes.”
“Sounds like a long game,” Ivan said.
“Sure it is. But what else do you have to do?” Loredana sighed. “In this reality, we had over four billion people paying us ten dollars a month to play a game. For years.”
“Then it all fell apart,” Shawn said. “The billions of dollars in your accounts are worth absolutely nothing now.”
“That’s right.”
“But we are wealthy and powerful inside Transition. Even more so than in the real world.”
“Oh my god.” Shawn’s eyes widened. “I see it.”
Loredana nodded. “Go on.”
“If you control the focus and thoughts of a society, your power is safe, but not one hundred percent. A different group of people—another country for instance—can come in and take it all. But if you control every person on the planet, then no one can threaten you.”
Ivan whistled. “In Transition, we control the code and programs and so no one can threaten us. We can do whatever we want.”
“Not with Dreamers around,” Loredana said. “At some point, they might create something capable of causing massive change to the system. Maybe not on purpose, but the possibility exists as long as they do.”
“So they must die.”
“And I think that’s exactly why they are.”
“Ivan missed something,” Shawn said. “Once the Displaced entered Transition, we lost our total control of that reality.”
Ivan swore and leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands and Loredana bowed her head. “The Displaced are considerably better at this game than we are.”
Ivan slammed his hand against the table. “They’ve beaten us before we even knew we were playing.”
No one spoke for long moments. “What will they do after they kill all of the Dreamers?” Shawn asked.
Loredana shook her head. “They will control the lives of everyone now living inside Transition. I don’t know what they will do for certain but whatever it is, you can be sure it won’t be good for anyone except the Displaced.”
#53
“If you are hearing this message and are alone, then I offer you hope. Society has not been destroyed as the news channels have led you to believe. Yes, most have abandoned this reality to live in Transition. For some reason, you have chosen to stay behind, as have we.
I am the Light, leader of Purity. For us, society exists as it did before the great exodus. You understand that there is still power, and your devic
es continue to function. Purity has marked our settlements so that they can be seen on every digital map. Join us if you wish to live in comfort and safety.
The world is a dangerous place for those few of us who remain. Your choices are simple. Leave this reality for Transition, stay and join us, or make do on your own.
We hope that you choose to make your way to us.
Until we meet. May you walk in the light.
“If you are hearing this message, and are alone, then I offer you hope. Society has not been destroyed. . .”
Recorded message from Purity, broadcast to all signals on continuous loop
The helicopter landed on the roof of the skyscraper. Four well-armed soldiers stood at the roof entrance. One ducked down and moved forward, extending one hand to help the occupant exit from the back seat. The man and soldier walked toward the door as the deep hum of the engine changed pitch and the blades began to slow.
The soldiers entered the stairwell and the man followed. One turned and saluted.
“Are they here yet?”
“Yes, Light. They are waiting in the room that you specified.”
“Good. Let’s go and meet them.”
The soldiers descended to the top floor, pausing to make certain all was safe and clear before allowing their leader to enter the hallway. The Light chuckled once they were out of the stairwell. “I assume you have checked every room and all is clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s move a little faster, shall we?”
“Your safety is our primary concern, Light.”
The Light clapped the man on the shoulder. “I know it is and I am sure this floor is safe.”
The soldier nodded. “You’re right.” He looked at the soldier in the lead. “There is no need to re-check rooms along the way.”
When they reached their destination, the commander pushed open the door and entered. A moment later, he stuck his head out and nodded at the Light, who stepped into the room and smiled at the occupants already there. “Hello, Loredana. I bet you never expected that we would meet again in this room.”
Loredana, Ivan, and Shawn sat on one side of the long conference table. She looked the man up and down with an amused expression. “You’re right, Glen, although meeting in the Cyber Inc. boardroom does seem strangely appropriate.”
