Shepherd's Wolf

by M. Andrew Reid

  ­

  M. Andrew Reid

  Shepherd’s Wolf

  © 2013 M. Andrew Reid

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction containing dragons, talking birds, wizards, and robot spiders. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  If you obtained this book illegally and enjoyed it, at least leave a positive review somewhere. Thanks for reading!

  For more information about the world of Verdia and upcoming books, visit www.guidetoverdia.com

  Acknowledgements:

  Many people joined me on this journey, but two friends in particular - Matt Krieg and Andy Bossardet - remained for the duration. Thanks, guys.

  I would also be remiss not to mention Cal Chopp for providing gorgeous cover art. Visit www.cchoppdesign.com to see more of his work.

  Prologue

  Olson Memorial Park

  Seattle, Washington

  Outstretched hands reached for the clouds; milky marble glinted in the sunlight. Resting in the open palms was a lamb, and standing watch over the lamb was a bristling, snarling wolf. Calm and safe beneath his protector, the lamb nestled quietly between this wolf’s legs.

  The statue was over twenty feet tall- carved from an enormous piece of smooth, white marble. Many tons of granite formed the massive pedestal. Despite its immense size, the sculpture had an air of quiet and reassurance- not at all intimidating. Under the wolf’s menacing maw, visitors felt the same tranquility and safety as the lamb.

  A girl watched an old man kneeling in the shadow of this statue. His gaze fixed on the engraved plaque at the sculpture’s base, but he was not reading it. His eyes- normally bright- glazed over as he remembered a battle that never happened in a place that did not exist. A weathered hand tightly gripped the cane lying beside him. The man’s fingers wrapped tighter as memories poured across his face and water filled his eyes.

  “Grandpa?” Small fingers lightly tapped his shoulder, startling the old man out of the past. A little boy licked a chocolate ice cream cone, his green eyes shining. “Grandpa, are you gonna’ tell us about the wolf now?”

  “Or how about we go home so I can call my friends?” The girl was leaning against an oak tree, one of several planted around the sculpture. Her shaven head was covered in tattoos, a trend that she would regret following in about ten years. She had decided against ice cream in favor of a can of cola, and took a slurp while waiting for her grandfather to reply.

  The old man sighed and laboriously rose to his feet, “I promised your brother that I would tell him the story. Do you really want to let him down?”

  The girl shrugged, “I don’t care. The little moron will just forget it in about ten minutes.” Billy, five years old, had already wandered off chasing bugs.

  “Maybe the story isn’t for him.” Thoughtfully, the old man glanced back down at the engraved plaque, “I’ll be honest with you. This story isn’t for your brother; he isn’t ready for it. I would have told it to you years ago, but you’re never interested.” The old man paused for a second, “I really want you to hear it.”

  “Oh God.” The teen rolled her eyes, “Did Dad tell you to do this? I get enough lectures from him.”

  “He wanted me to talk to you before...”

  “About what? Do you really think that lecturing me will change anything about me?

  Withered hands raised in protest, “Who said it was a lecture? It’s just a story. It’s my story.”

  “I already know your story. Everyone knows your story. It’s going to be a lecture. You may disguise it as a story, but it’s a lecture.”

  She had lived her life in the shadow of this old man’s deeds- deeds that had taken place long ago. Everyone expected her to fit the mold, and she wanted no part of his world.

  The old man frowned in disappointment and decided to try a different tact, “Everyone thinks they know my story. Don’t you want to know how this statue got here?”

  “I’ve heard plenty from my instructors. I know enough.”

  “I’m pretty sure your tutors weren’t there to see what happened.”

  “Nobody was there,” the girl snorted. “It wasn’t real. Even if it was, it happened so long ago that it doesn’t matter - especially when you compare it to everything else. The things that really happened, I will admit that’s interesting. This other stuff - fairy tales and ancient video games - not so much…”

  “We can go home then. Your brother will be disappointed.”

  The old man motioned for Billy to come back. Billy had roamed far away, and ran back toward his grandfather and older sister. He was shadowed- as always- by the old man’s bodyguards. They moved wraithlike and unseen until called, as much a part of the background as the grass and flowers and trees.

  Bright green eyes, a little too bright and lively for the aged face they occupied, settled on the girl, “For a large part of my life I wasn’t a complete person. It wasn’t until I listened to a story from an old man that I started putting the pieces back together.”

  The teenager looked at her shoes.

  Billy was breathing heavily when he arrived, “Are you going to tell the wolf story now?”

  “Your sister wants to go home. I can tell you some other time.”

  “But I want to hear the story.” Tears were already forming in the little boy’s eyes.

  The girl heaved her shoulders, “I guess I’ll stay if it will keep the brat from crying.”

  Time melted away as the wrinkly face produced a tight grin, “Good. I’ll sit on this bench right here, and you can sit on the grass in front of me.”

  Billy plopped down and smiled up at his grandfather. Indifferently, the older girl sauntered over from her tree and slowly sat.

  A groan erupted from the old man as he settled onto the bench and massaged his right leg, “People have different sides to them. Everyone has a part that wants to give and create, but we also have a part of us that wants to consume and destroy.”

  Mildly interested, the girl looked up.

  “I’m not saying that one is good or the other is bad,” the old man continued. “People have inflicted terrible pain on one another and created horrible things, and they have also absorbed the hurts of others and eradicated wickedness and fear. Any aspect of our nature can be good or evil; it depends on how we use it.”

  The old man set his cane against the bench, “I was once half of a person. There was a gap between the part of me that the world could see and another part that I kept hidden. The chasm was so wide that if you were to see these two parts you would assume I was two different people. I wasn’t whole. The only part of me that the world saw was the part that consumed without giving back and destroyed without flinching.

  “That part of me is still here, and it still has its uses. This story is about finding the other part of me, the part that I had beaten and tied up and thrown in a corner.”

  The girl sat up a little straighter. This story might be darker than she had expected; it might not be boring after all. Her little brother was already drifting off to sleep.

  “My father was once asked how it was possible to determine if someone is a hero or a villain. He responded that sometimes it depends on who’s telling the story, and sometimes - it depends on who’s listening.”

  A smirk spread across the old man’s face- this had gotten the girl’s attention.

  Chapter 1

  Prison

  Mercy Hospital

  Fort Wayne, IN

  Nervous paces carried the doctor around his office. He frowned at the door as the latch turned.

  Richard Brook, Vice President of Research and Design for Dalton Software Inc., closed the door behind him. A tight grin clung to his face. He reached up to scratch his toupee.<
br />
  “She agreed to everything. I’m arranging transport for the boy to our research center. Sign the papers and we are good.”

  The doctor sat down at his desk, “She was fine with everything?”

  Brook nodded, “No contact whatsoever during testing.”

  “Did she want custody after you’re done?” The doctor asked.

  “Nope.” Brook shrugged, “She didn’t care- just wanted the money. You found a real gem here. This is a perfect candidate.”

  “It still feels wrong. I could lose my…”

  “You won’t lose anything,” Brook’s eyes grew hard. “Now, look. We need a safe way to do human testing, and this is as safe as you can possibly get. If our tests fail, what are the repercussions? This baby is already paralyzed; he’s cut off from the world. Nobody will notice if we make it worse. I’m not sure we can make it worse.”

  “What happens when you’re done with him?” The doctor asked.

  “He’ll get put in a home somewhere. We’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” Brook stepped over to the desk, “Speaking of taken care of, your consultant fee is being transferred now. We would also like to send you to our annual biomedical conference in Palm Springs.”

  “Thanks.” The doctor smiled nervously.

  “Another thing,” Brook pulled a business card from his wallet and threw it on the desk, “an accountant; use him. Pay your taxes. Make sure that this consulting fee is claimed as income. We won’t be happy if you get nabbed for tax evasion and think you can plea bargain your way out of jail.”

  “Why would that happen? I’m not a…”

  “Not a crooked doctor?” Brook laughed. “Just make sure you wrap everything up neatly.”

  “What did she want to name the boy?” the doctor asked.

  Brook shrugged, “She didn’t care. Pick something.”

  Silver Technology Research Center

  Seattle, Washington

  Time was running out. Alex had not completed a single objective, and he only had a week remaining to use the center’s supercomputer before he had to pack up and leave. He could forget winning another grant without results.

  “Dr. Olson?” Alex’s assistant Jimmy, a scrawny kid from U of Washington Seattle, was hammering furiously on his keyboard. “Dr. Olson, give me two minutes and I will have him running for another test.”

  Alex Olson, doctorate of computer science at twenty-five, responded, “Good, and if you don’t start calling me Alex you’re fired.”

  “I’ll get right on that Dr. Olson.”

  Alex scowled and chugged the last bit of cold coffee in his thermos, then he scowled again. He would have to start injecting the stuff into his arm if he did not get some sleep soon. He was fortunate to get the two hours of sleep he had gotten the night before. Alex ran tired fingers through his dark-brown hair, “I’m going to go get some more coffee and give Melissa a call.”

  Jimmy continued pounding on the keyboard, “Good luck Dr. Olson.”

  Alex muttered and stepped through an airlock. He turned around and surveyed the large room behind him through the clear glass. The computer was massive. It was a dinosaur- about eleven years old. A series of boxes, it looked more like a commercial air conditioner than an advanced computer. Buying time was relatively cheap, which had seemed good at first. But frequent crashes were slowing Alex’s project down. Hopefully, the kid would get it all fixed tonight.

  A rush of air hit Alex, and his ears popped as the airlock lowered the pressure. Alex shivered.

  The trip to get coffee was also a good excuse to warm up; cooling systems kept the computer room chilly to protect the ancient equipment. Two floors down and several minutes later, Alex realized that he had forgotten his thermos.

  He checked to make sure nobody was around, and kicked a drink machine. He also kicked the snack machine next to it for good measure. His foot was throbbing, but he felt a little better. Now, he would have to face Melissa without the aid of caffeine.

  The phone rang six times before she picked up, “It’s midnight Alex.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. Did you make it home okay?”

  “Yeah, I had a guy drive me home. His name is Juan and he’s trying to make it as an underwear model. Really nice guy. He’s still here by the way.”

  Alex gulped, “What?”

  Melissa laughed, “You must be tired. I’m just kidding. I took the bus home.”

  Alex looked around the empty break room, trying to think of something to say, “I’m really sorry about tonight. We had another crash and I was working on it and I lost track of time. You didn’t wait too long did you?”

  “Just an hour.”

  Alex thumped his head against the wall, “I’m so sorry Melissa. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “I’m the best girlfriend a guy could ever have. You know that right?”

  “Yes I do. I don’t know why you keep giving me chances.”

  “It’s your looks and your money.”

  “Then you are dumber than I thought.” Alex smirked, “I’ll let you go back to sleep now. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Computer Man. Tell Omni that I said hi.” Melissa hung up.

  Omni, or Omniscient Cognitive Growth System, was Alex’s baby. The first true Artificial Intelligence - Omni was a synthetic being. His processing power surpassed measurement. Alex had found a way to let a simple program learn for itself by trial and error, similar to human cognitive development. Any similarities stopped there, as Omni learned exponentially faster than the smartest person. “He” could absorb information and develop ideas on an immeasurable scale.

  Alex’s problem now was finding computers big enough to satisfy Omni’s need for growth, and reigning Omni in to make him useful. Omni’s practical value hid behind a veil of riddles and fixations on anything that caught his fancy.

  Alex held the belief that this extreme intelligence was worthless if was not harnessed to some purpose. This would not be a serious issue if the computer would stay online for more than three hours at a time. Alex needed a solid idea for a project proposal within a month. If not, Omni could be put to “sleep” indefinitely on his storage drive. Alex had created a life; he did not want to put it in a cage.

  With a sigh, Alex stepped into the airlock. The door closed behind him and cold air rushed in. Alex stifled a yawn and zipped up his coat.

  Jimmy was waiting when the door opened, “I woke him up early. I’ve been talking to him for a few minutes. He’s excited about something.”

  “Excellent.” Alex stepped past Jimmy and into the control room outside the main computer room, “What’s up Omni?”

  “Alex! I’ve been waiting for you. I have a surprise.”

  The voice came from a speaker on the control console. Currently using the self-assured voice of a young man, Omni could switch genders and languages on the fly.

  “I had a dream while I was sleeping and…”

  “Whoa, stop,” Alex felt a chill run down his spine. He looked at Jimmy, who shrugged nonchalantly. Alex sat down in the control console’s chair and leaned forward. “You had a dream while you were on the backup drive?”

  “That is what they are called, right? When you see things in your sleep?” A hint of apprehension tinged Omni’s voice. He did not like to make mistakes, particularly when trying to grasp ideas and emotions.

  “No, you’re right Omni. But dreams are normally kind of a human thing.” Alex was searching for words while his mind raced. This was impossible. When Omni was in his storage drive, he was functionally dead. Only by activating Omni via uploading him onto a computer could his thought processes begin. If Omni was dreaming…

  “I had a dream that I was an ant,” Omni stated this as if it were a common occurrence.

  “An ant?”

  “Yes, I had been studying ants right before the crash - and the Roman Empire, and the Vietnam War, and I was going through some business listings and online car repair manuals. But I was mainly studying ants. They are
fascinating little creatures. When the power cut off, and I went to sleep; I became an ant. I was carrying a leaf across the ground; it was most enjoyable. I did not realize I was asleep until I awoke. And then I was not an ant anymore. I was very disappointed.”

  Jimmy snorted, “I’ve had a few dreams involving a girl in my programming class that were very disappointing to wake up from.”

  Alex ignored him, “Was this your first dream, Omni?”

  “I believe so, but I discovered that people often have dreams and forget them. Is this true?”

  “For people, yes. But you would probably remember all of your dreams,” Alex scratched his head and turned to Jimmy. “From now on, monitor him while he’s asleep. Hook up something to read any waveforms coming out of his storage drive.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Alex turned back to the monitor, “Was that the surprise, Omni?”

  “No Alex, I was laying a foundation for the surprise before you interrupted me.”

  “I’m sorry Omni,” Alex said. “What’s the surprise?”

  “I missed being an ant after I woke up, so I tried to relive the experience. I believe you call it daydreaming. But I grew bored of that and I decided to try something different.”

  “He did this while I was downstairs?” Alex asked Jimmy.

  “While I was talking to him,” Jimmy replied.

  “What did you do, Omni?”

  “I made a colony of ants.” Omni’s voice carried the pride of a small boy holding up a picture he had drawn, “Do you want to see?”

  “Sure.” Alex was not sure what Omni was talking about, but he was becoming accustomed to ignorance.

  A hologram projector unfolded - humming as it warmed up. Omni had direct control of the projector, as well as other output devices in the room. With a hiss of crisp static and flashes of light, the projector began emitting. A terrarium hung in space - filled with sand, some plants, and hundreds of ants. The terrarium’s clear sides allowed a view inside the ant colony. Little black insects scurried around their tunnels in a bustling frenzy. Omni rotated the terrarium so that Alex and Jimmy could see it from all angles.