by Rob Vlock
“Yuki?” I called. “Yuki?”
There was no answer.
“Well, just don’t break anything, okay?” I said.
And there I stood, all alone in my brain with nothing to do. Nothing to look at. No one to talk to. I tried humming aloud to amuse myself, but the hollow echo of my voice made me feel even more alone, so I stopped.
Finally, Yuki popped back.
She stared at me with a lopsided smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying to read the amused expression on her face.
Her smile broadened. “No reason. It’s just that I checked out your memory storage.” She stifled a laugh.
“What?”
“You tried to jump over a cake?” she snorted. “Seriously? Who jumps over a cake? And I also took just a tiny look at your emotion regulators. Did you know they’re on the same circuit as your incursion defenses?”
“Um . . . no. My incursion defenses?”
Yuki nodded. “They’re like a firewall. Your incursion defenses keep people from being able to access your system remotely. I mean, I can do it, obviously, because that’s what I was designed to do. But the point is, because of the way you’re built, when your emotion regulators are overclocked, your incursion defenses are at their weakest.”
I tried to process what she was saying. “You mean when I’m emotional, I can be more easily . . . hacked?”
“You could put it that way.”
“Is that why I hear a voice in my head when I’m angry or upset?” I asked.
Yuki scratched her chin. “Probably. Which brings me to the whole point of my visit. We need to do something about those monkeys. I need your help. If you can overtax their emotion regulators, I may be able to grab a piece of code from Mi, bypass their defenses, and disable them. Good luck!”
“Okay, but how exactly do I . . .”
Yuki disappeared.
A small dark spot rushed at me, growing larger and larger until it formed itself into Yuki and Mitsuo’s bedroom.
I lay pinned to the floor by Oscar just as I had been before Yuki drew me into my own head. The whole conversation with her had taken literally no time at all.
“—last words?” the Tick finished saying.
“Actually, yes,” I said.
CHAPTER 39.0:
< value= [Mi Unhorks the Interwebs] >
I HAD NEVER BEEN VERY good at insulting people. I guess when you live your life with the nickname Trashmouth, you quickly realize how much being made fun of hurts. But if I wanted to survive for more than a few seconds, I needed to come up with a great insult fast!
I crossed my fingers and did my best. “Hey, anybody ever told you monkeys that you look like someone set your face on fire and put it out with an ugly stick?”
Oscar barely reacted. “Physical appearances are unimportant.”
Strike one. “Oh, uh . . . well, your mama’s a toaster!”
“Actually, my mother is a Synthetic Replicator, model 23-b. Now if there’s nothing else . . .”
Uh-oh! “Wait!” I cried. “Um . . . it must be tough for stupid poop-flinging monkeys like you to fling poop with those big ugly claws of yours!”
The monkey blinked at me for a moment. Then his lips pulled back in a scowl. “How dare you!” he screamed. “I’ll have you know our poop-flinging prowess is beyond reproach! I’ll kill you slowly for that!”
“Mi,” I heard Yuki shout. “They’re overclocking! Get me some code for the monkeys!”
Oscar’s claw slowly tightened around my throat.
“Got it, sis!” Mitsuo called out. “All yours!”
Suddenly, Oscar froze. All the monkeys froze. Then they toppled over, totally motionless.
I pushed Oscar off of me and got to my feet.
“Whoa!” Will nudged a deactivated monkey with the toe of his shoe. “What happened?”
“We scrogged those noobs!” Mitsuo crowed. “Used a modified rootkit to brick up their mobos!”
Dixon frowned. “Is that good?”
“They won’t be bothering us again,” Yuki explained.
Alicia cleared her throat. “I guess we owe you one. Now, about the damage you’ve done . . .”
Mitsuo sighed. “Yeah, yeah, fine. I’ll make it right.” He gestured at Oscar’s inert form. “I can’t believe we almost helped them wipe out humanity. What a bonehead I was.”
“Fighting your programming isn’t an easy thing to do, Mitsuo,” Sam replied, scratching the gray stubble on his chin. “Ivy had an almost uncontrollable compulsion to sneak into the Cheyenne Mountain Complex to blow up the world. And Sven couldn’t stop himself from eating the inedible, even though he wanted to.”
Will chimed in. “And I have to lift the toilet seat up and down seven times before I pee.”
Sam laughed. “See? Humans have their own programming too. But now that you know what’s really going on, hopefully you and Yuki can fight it, if that’s what you choose to do.”
Mitsuo nodded.
After that, we stood without speaking, the only sound in the room the rapid, staccato clack clack clack of Mi’s fingers pressing keys.
“It’s done,” Mitsuo said after a while. “I unhorked the interwebs. And the power should come on any second now.”
I looked out the window in time to see lights all over the city flicker on.
“Thank you,” I said. “You did the right thing.”
Mitsuo shrugged. “Good,” he said, reverting back to his typical blunt self. “Now you can go. Bye.”
Alicia used her knife to cut the cable running from Mitsuo’s computer to the cell tower.
“Hey! Why’d you do that?”
“I’m not an idiot. You think I’m going to just let you bring down the Internet again?”
Mitsuo stood up. “I wasn’t going to!”
“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Alicia replied coldly. “Now pack up some things if you want. We’re leaving.”
He blinked at her. “You want me to go with you?”
Will answered for her. “Until we’ve stopped all the Ticks, we figure it’s safer having you and your sister with us. Just so you don’t, you know, exterminate the human race as soon as our backs are turned.”
“What if I don’t want to go?”
Alicia fixed him with her cool green eyes. “You don’t have to. But I don’t think you’d like the alternative.”
Mitsuo swallowed nervously. The threat in Alicia’s voice was clear.
Yuki spoke for both of them. “Okay, fine. We’ll go. But at least tell me where we’re going.”
Nobody answered her.
“You don’t even know where you’re going?” Mitsuo laughed. “Awesome! What could go wrong?”
“Anyone have any ideas?” I asked. “There’s only one Tick left! We’re so close!”
808 shrugged a few of his legs. “Don’t look at me, boss.”
“Actually, 808, you’re exactly who I’m looking at.”
“Can’t help you. They’ve locked me out of the network,” he objected.
I smiled. “True. But I think I know a couple of people who might be able to help. They’re pretty good hackers.”
* * *
“Los Angeles,” 808 said once the Tanaka twins had restored his access to the network. “One Omicron is in LA. I’ve got an address: a building on Wilshire Boulevard. A company called Cyber Dynamics, Inc. Seventy-fifth floor. Fancy-schmancy.”
Alicia turned toward the scorpipede. “What’s his mission? Who’s his overseer? What else can you tell us? I want to know everything.”
“That’ll be a problem,” 808 told her. “I’ve told you all there is. Everything else in that particular file is blank.”
Will flipped the light switch on and off. “That’s not good.”
“Know what’s even worse?” Ivy interjected. “We have no way to get there. The RV must be a pile of ashes by now.”
808 laughed. “Please. I’ve already taken c
are of it.”
I squinted at him. “How have you taken—”
I was interrupted by the sound of a car horn outside.
CHAPTER 40.0:
< value= [Going Up] >
808 HADN’T JUST TAKEN CARE of it. He had taken care of it in style! When we left the house, a huge, sleek, black limousine was waiting by the curb.
Will’s jaw dropped. “Huh? How did you . . . ?”
The scorpipede chuckled from my shoulder. “While I was checking out Cyber Dynamics, I took the liberty of ordering us a car on their account. I hope they don’t mind.”
With big leather seats and a TV and snacks and soda, the limo was pretty much the polar opposite of Sam’s RV. There were even pillows and blankets so we could get some sleep during the long drive to LA.
It was big enough to fit all of us with room to spare—even Yuki and Mitsuo, who had convinced Janet Ito to let them come along by promising they’d be in good hands with the famous and talented Dixon Watts. We were grateful to have room to stretch out a little, because after everything we’d been through recently, we totally needed sleep.
I had no idea how many hours I was out. But when I woke up, my nostrils stung with the stench of burning cars and tear gas.
I looked out the window and my stomach churned. Los Angeles was on fire. Plumes of thick, black smoke snaked up into the sky. Heavily armed police officers patrolled the streets, chasing masked rioters, shouting instructions through bullhorns.
“Yikes!” Will pressed his face to the window. “It’s like a war zone!”
Dix gaped at the scene. “I was here just last week for a show. This looks like a different city altogether.”
“Must have happened when the lights went out,” Sam said. “When people don’t have what they need, they tend to get violent.”
Mitsuo’s face reddened. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry about that. But, you know, no harm no foul, right?” He laughed nervously.
A group of three police officers stopped our limo. I watched as the driver, who hadn’t spoken more than three words the entire trip, lowered his window and displayed some sort of identification.
“Cyber Dynamics,” he growled.
One of the officers examined the ID, nodded, and waved us on.
The limo drove a few more blocks, then swung to the right. We paused in front of the entrance to a parking garage underneath a gleaming skyscraper.
“Whoa, snazzy!” Ivy remarked. “This is way bigger than anything in Colorado Springs.”
The car rolled forward, and we plunged into semidarkness as we entered the parking garage. Our driver stopped the limo right in front of a row of elevators. He opened our door and let us out. Then, with a tip of his hat, he climbed back into the limo and drove away.
We stood in front of a dozen elevator doors that shone like polished mirrors. But it didn’t take long for us to figure out it was the elevator on the end that we were looking for. It had an imposing pair of black doors and instead of a call button, a key-card reader. A small plaque above the device read:
CYBER DYNAMICS, INC.
“This is it,” Alicia said, running her finger over the engraved letters on the plaque. “How do we get up?”
“Have you learned nothing, young padawan?” Mitsuo replied. “Yuki?”
“Connected.” She nodded at her brother.
Mitsuo closed his eyes for a second. “Code in.”
The doors whooshed open.
“Voilà.” Mi gestured toward the empty car.
We filed into a sterile space lined in brushed steel. The walls, the floors, the ceiling were all wrapped in that seamless metal skin. Instead of a full set of buttons on the control panel, there were only two features—a key-card reader and a single button marked 75.
Mitsuo guided Yuki’s hand to the button. It lit up, tinting the steel walls with a bloodred glow.
The elevator rose so smoothly and silently that the only indication we were moving at all was the mounting pressure on my eardrums.
A digital display counted the floors as we ascended.
Fourteen . . . fifteen . . . sixteen . . . seventeen . . .
It wasn’t until we passed twenty-two that anybody spoke.
“So what’s the plan?” Dix asked.
Ivy laughed. “I got a plan for you! We go in there and kick some butt!”
Thor whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs.
Ivy scratched his head. “Don’t worry, boy. We got this!”
His tail popped up and wagged in response.
“Anyone heard of Cyber Dynamics before?” Will wondered aloud.
Alicia shook her head. “Nope. But don’t worry. There’s one more Tick to deal with and we’re done. This is nearly over.”
Will ran a finger under his nose thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess.” He sounded doubtful.
I patted him on the back. “It’s going to be fine, Will. With all of us working together, we’re going to do this!”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I know.” Will nodded. But I couldn’t help but notice the greenish tint his face had taken on.
We lapsed back into silence.
Forty-one . . . forty-two . . . forty-three . . . forty-four . . .
I found myself licking the elevator wall.
Fifty-nine . . . sixty . . . sixty-one . . . sixty-two . . .
Alicia tightened the straps on her backpack.
Mitsuo and Yuki grabbed each other’s hands.
Sam licked his thumb and tried to smooth his unruly eyebrows, which sprang back into chaos.
Will, not having a light switch to flip on and off, pressed the lone button on the control panel over and over again.
Ivy tapped her foot impatiently. “Stupid slow elevator.”
Thor sneezed, then licked his crotch.
Seventy . . . seventy-one . . . seventy-two . . . seventy-three . . . seventy-four . . .
. . . seventy-five.
The elevator stopped. And the black metal doors slowly slid open.
They revealed an immense wide-open office with high ceilings and glass walls that looked out on the buildings, parks, and streets of Los Angeles far below.
It was as if the entire seventy-fifth floor had been cleared out to make room for this one cavernous space. There were no furnishings of any sort, with the exception of a wooden desk, carved with scrolls, patterns, and other embellishments, that stood at the far end of the room, just in front of the windows. Behind it was a black leather chair.
And next to the chair was a figure. It stood motionless, one arm outreached, its hand resting atop an abstract stone sculpture on the desk. Its posture suggested we had walked in while it was lost in deep thought. That’s all I could tell about him or her, since the light flooding in from outside rendered this person nothing more than a dark silhouette.
With nowhere else to go, we shuffled forward.
The figure spoke. “Welcome to Cyber Dynamics. I’ve been waiting for you.”
We made our way slowly toward the desk. I squinted to try to make out some details of the person who had addressed us, but he (it seemed to have a male voice) was still nothing more than a human shape.
“I must say, it’s good to see you all again,” the man continued.
“Hold on,” I said to the figure. “We’ve never met.”
He laughed. “Of course we have.”
As the echo of his words faded, a chill ran down my back. Something wasn’t right.
“I can see why you’re confused. Perhaps this will help refresh your memory? Hey, you silly-billies. Recognize me now? Yay, fun!”
“Bing?” Ivy said hesitantly. “Oh my gosh, that’s . . . that’s Bing! How is that possible?”
“Or I can use this vocal representation if you prefer, my lovely sweet children,” he said in an old lady’s voice.
“Roz!” Dix gaped at the voice of his manager.
The figure walked out from behind the desk and stepped toward us. As he moved away from the windows, his features came into vi
ew.
He looked like he was in his early twenties, with large, expressive, friendly brown eyes, heavy eyebrows, and a head covered with dark, loose curls. He was the man I had seen in the deer’s-head vision. One Omicron.
“But, truth be told, this is the voice that feels most natural to me, yes? I have missed you and your troublesome friends, Seven. I am glad we have this chance to get reacquainted. As brief as our reunion might be, yes?”
There was no mistaking that voice.
Dr. Shallix.
CHAPTER 41.0:
< value= [75 Becomes My Least-Favorite Number] >
“I . . . I . . . KILLED YOU!” I stammered. “You can’t be Dr. Shallix! You’re One Omicron! I saw you!”
“No, no. You see, this husk, this particular piece of wetware, designation One Omicron—known by his human acquaintances as Juan Jimenez—is simply a vessel for Synthetic Command. So too were the entities you called Dr. Shallix, Bing, Roz, Oscar, and the others whom you referred to as overseers, yes?”
Alicia stared at the Tick with eyes that projected hot, unbridled hate. “You!”
Juan shook his head and stared back at her with a perfectly neutral expression. “Not me. Us. We exist as a hive mind, yes? But if it is easier for your human intellect to comprehend, you may think of this entity as Shallix 2.0.”
Junkman Sam flinched at the words. “A hive mind? You . . . you’re part of a hive mind?”
Ivy scowled. “Will someone explain what a hive mind is?”
“Ah, the impetuous little Five Omicron. We are only too happy to elucidate for you, yes? You see, we within the Synthetic Command share a collective consciousness—what we call a hive mind. Any piece of data that is collected by one overseer, as you refer to them, is fed back into our shared neural network and is disseminated to all.”
Ivy scowled. “I still don’t get it.”
Shallix 2.0 grinned at her. “Perhaps I can provide an analogy, yes? Think of the Synthetic Command not as a group of individuals, but as a superorganism. Like an ant colony. Step on one ant, step on a hundred ants, and other members of the colony simply pick up where the deceased left off. They have the shared purpose of perpetuating and expanding the colony.”
