by Al Robertson
[ They’ll be rammed when it comes to rush hour,] said Fist. [Squashed in like squishies!]
[ Fist!]
[And all those sweatheads!]
The town was speckled with black. Most were clumped together in little groups.
[Still asleep in their factories,] said Jack.
[ Factories?]
[ The places where they hide and drop sweat together. That’s what they’re called.]
[Aren’t sweatheads dangerous when they’re high?]
[ Not if you leave them alone. InSec keep them out of the way.]
A few of the black dots were beginning to move towards train stations and major roads.
[ The early degenerate catches the worm!] chirped Fist. [ I wonder if we can see Akhmatov?]
[ I thought you’d completely anonymised him.]
[ I left some personal tags on him.]
Fist’s eyes clacked shut in concentration. [ There he is!] he said, pointing up and to the right. A white circle highlighted a black dot on a small residential street. [ He’s in the back room of a café.]
[ I wonder if someone can see him? I thought you said he’d be invisible.]
[ They’re still closed, Jack. Perhaps he’s broken in there to shelter.]
[ He’s just a distraction. We’ve got the basics up and running. Trip the entertainment and commercial layer.]
A shotgun blast of logos punched themselves into being. With them came the howl of a thousand advertising jingles, a visual and aural cacophony carving into Jack’s mind like a punch. Jack doubled over in pain, eyes tight shut, hands going to his ears.
‘FIST!’ he screamed.
[Shit! Sorry!] The roar of commerce subsided as quickly as it had begun. [ I forgot to put the limiters on.]
[Gods’ sake, Fist. Nobody looks at it all at once.] Jack opened his eyes, pulled his hands from his ears and shook his head. Now there was just a hubbub. The world bustled with icons and animations and words and music. Chain logos repeated themselves across the city. Slices of pizza danced on fat little legs, coffee mugs fluttered on glossy brown wings and an idealised market stallholder sung about his wares. If Jack focused on a particular logo it would expand to fill about a quarter of his field of vision. If he waited a second or two more, details of special offers would sing out from it.
[ I’d forgotten how much I hated that.]
[ I’ll sort it.]
[ You can block it?]
[Most people couldn’t, but I can!]
The logos became less hyperactive.
[ I’m sure there weren’t so many when I left,] sighed Jack.
[ Is that really a pole-dancing hamburger?]
[ I’m afraid so.]
[ Your human cultural achievements never fail to amaze me.]
[ The void sites have come online too.]
[ They sit in the marketing layer? Wow.]
Children’s faces hung over the city, monochrome memories of the lost. The images reset every thirty seconds or so, one sad face melting into the next. Sometimes a word would flash up – ‘Remember’, for example, or ‘Innocent’ or ‘Gone’.
[Depressing,] said Fist glumly.
[ They’re meant to be. Let’s have the social feeds.]
[OK …]
The geography of Docklands implied social networks. Interconnected engagement webs exploded across the landscape, making them visible. Informal groupings throbbed busily, as people entered their first status updates of the day and caught up with friends across the city. Dormant corporate networks shimmered through and beyond them. Soon they too would wake to life. Some would converge into rich, dense clumps, as employees settled into offices, factories, or shops. Some would remain stretched across the city, virtual businesses whose employees worked in a close digital proximity that made distance irrelevant. Some would pull workers out of Docklands entirely, into the Wart or Homelands. And some would leap into the void, clambering up the Spine to the wharves or beyond.
[ What’s everyone saying?] asked Jack.
The morning’s babble rose up around him. It was difficult to separate the messages. Excited voices shrilled joy at a new dawn, a new partner, even just an excellent cup of coffee, while the less perky dreaded the upcoming working day, bitched about waking up alone again, or bemoaned hangovers.
[ They’re all soooo mundane,] groaned Fist.
[ It’s what people do. It’s just as important as the big stuff.]
[ It’s pointless. What’s next?]
[Show me the Pantheon.]
[ You want to look at the gods? They’ll look right back at you.]
[ I trust your security arrangements, Fist.]
[ I’ll call them. They might be hard to damp at first. Close your eyes.]
[ Fist …]
[ No, really.]
Jack shut his eyes, and the world vanished. For a moment the hubbub of morning voices filled his ear, then that too died away. A breeze sang through the metal that surrounded him. Then a great flash broke in the sky, bright even through closed eyes. A deep, loud industrial hum shook itself into being. It sounded like a choir of machines chanting in a metal church.
[Containing the signal, Jack.]
The hum became a roar and then softened, modulating into a background throb that was almost gentle. There were eleven more flashes of light. Each was accompanied by a pulse of noise that Fist contained, again and again coming to terms with the numinous.
[ How’s it going?] asked Jack.
[Difficult to manage their outputs without feeding back our signatures, but it’s just about done. There – open your eyes!]
The world had changed. The Spine had been replaced by six great icons of the divine, representing each of the Pantheon. Only two appeared remotely human. There was Kingdom with his shaven head and East, looking reliably dazzling. She appeared in full figure, her clothes shimmering as they shifted and changed with the fashion whims of the moment. The Eastware in Jack’s mind responded to her presence, until Fist hushed it. For a moment Jack was at one with entire monasteries of her followers, solemnly hymning her dazzling style.
Then, there were the more abstract deities. The Rose’s petals were as violently red as they’d always been but the sharp green thorns partially hidden beneath them were entirely new. Sandal’s crystal cube rotated as slowly and deliberately as ever. The Twins were represented by a great set of constantly moving scales. First one side was in the ascendant, then the other. And of course, there was Grey.
He was a fallen god, no longer capable of acting as a free agent. But his corporate structures had not yet been fully absorbed by his competitors. Thousands of people still needed to use his apps, access data held on his servers, or call in other ways on his strategic and financial services. So his raven was still present, though it now made his broken status humiliatingly clear. A great iron band ran around its body, holding its wings tight to its sides. A silver chain glittered around its legs, and then ran up to its beak, holding it shut. A rag was tied around its head, covering its eyes. It had also been stripped of any animation.
[ That’s sad to see,] said Jack. [ It used to be so alert.]
The bird’s gaze had once constantly flickered back and forth across Docklands, tracking every single commercial transaction.
[ They’re … huge, Jack.]
[ You get used to them. After a while, you stop taking much notice.]
[ I can’t imagine that,] breathed Fist.
Thousands of slender silver threads drifted out from the base of each icon, falling away into the city. Each represented a link to an individual worshipper, dancing with sparkling light as data ran along it. Twined together, they showed the relative user bases of each Pantheon member.
[Look at Grey’s bundle,] said Fist.
It was far thinner than those descending from the other eleven icons, twine to their rope, and much duller – the colour of lead, not silver.
[ I’m surprised he’s still got that many followers.] Jack paused for a moment, suddenly
thoughtful. [One more thing,] he continued. [Let’s take a look at my parents.]
[ I can see your father. And talking with Issie’s helped me track fetches. There’s your mother!]
[Get rid of everyone else.]
An entire population shimmered into nothing, leaving only a single red pixel right next to a single blue one, in a distant street rolling up behind the Spine.
[ They must be in bed.]
Jack remembered childhood nights, and the deep security of knowing that his parents were asleep in the next room. The knowledge of their closeness was always a ward against the small difficulties of a Docklands child’s life.
[Can we look at them?]
He was surprised at how quiet his voice was.
[Oh yes,] piped Fist. [And perhaps there’ll be some action! That’ll make up for last night.]
[ Fucking hell, Fist,] sighed Jack. [ If that’s what they’re doing, we’ll let them be. Now, how to see them?]
[Spoilsport,] replied Fist. [And, let’s see. A camera nest’s the best way, they’re all over the place. It’ll be quite risky though – they run on Rosecode, she’s tough.]
[ If Harry can hack camera nests, I’m sure you can.]
[ That sleazy fuck. We’ll have to be quick.]
Fist closed his eyes and threw his mind out into the weave, searching for a lens to bring Jack’s parents into focus. Jack stared up at the two dots, lost in sadness at his distance from them.
[Got it!]
A square of light flashed into being, resolving into a street of brightly coloured plastic boxes. It was like looking directly into a memory.
[ The camera nest’s got droneflies mounted on it. Just snagging one …]
The view in the window changed as the dronefly lifted up and moved down the street to hang outside an upstairs window. The curtains were drawn, but the window was open. Fist steered it into the bedroom. There was a single figure, asleep on one side of a double bed.
[ I’ll just drop your mother in.]
[Doesn’t my dad have to reset her permissions?]
[ Issie showed me a temporary hack.]
Suddenly there were two shapes there.
[Audio.]
His father was snoring. Nostalgia shook Jack. He so wanted to step into the image and find himself back in childhood.
[ You’ve got about thirty more seconds, Jack.]
[ Bring the camera in closer.]
His father let out a particularly loud snore. His mother shifted, then reached out to nudge her partner. He grunted and rolled over. Jack imagined processors deep in his mind, simulating touch. She sighed and settled back, but then stiffened.
[She’s waking up. Time’s up, we should go.]
[ No, stay. I want to see her.]
‘Hello?’ she said, pushing herself up one arm. ‘Is there someone there?’
[Shit! She’s probing.]
She turned to face the camera.
[ Issie warned me they could do this. I’m going to cut the link.]
[ No.]
[ It’s not safe!]
She leant forward, bringing her face into the thin line of light from the slightly parted curtains. Jack gasped. It was the first time he’d seen her for seven years. She seemed so alive, so present.
[ What’s that?] she whispered. [A puppet?] and then, in the smallest, softest voice imaginable, [ Jack?]
[She’s on to us!]
[ You’re not breaking the link, Fist.]
[Any second now, InSec’ll see us, Pantheon’ll see us. Fuck’s sake, Jack, you fucking idiot!]
But Jack didn’t hear.
[Mum?]
[ Is that really you?]
Jack’s father stirred.
[ It’s me, Mum,] said Jack, not knowing whether or not she could hear him, for a moment forgetting that she wasn’t still alive, and that he wasn’t standing directly before her.
[ They told me you were— If that is you, oh, Jack.]
There was an electric crack and the screen vanished. Jack imagined a dronefly falling to the ground in a distant room, his father waking to a weeping wife. Then, anger shook him.
[ Fist, I told you not to cut me off.]
‘He didn’t,’ said Grey, appearing on the staircase. ‘I did.’ Metal rang beneath his feet as he climbed the last few steps. ‘You were cutting it rather too fine. A few more seconds and that would have been it for you both.’
‘You’ve been watching us all this time?’
‘I had a flag set in case you went onweave. I thought you might benefit from a little constructive criticism. As it turned out, I was right. It’s good to feel that I can still be useful, even if my wings have been clipped.’ He waved up towards the Spine. ‘I do hate seeing my icon like that.’
Jack was torn between anger and grief. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Fist stepped into the awkward silence. ‘I had everything well under control,’ he said firmly.
‘I’m sure you did,’ replied Grey, his silkily polite coldness implying exactly the opposite.
‘Fuck you,’ Fist shot back. ‘And while you’re here, don’t you go playing around in my fucking head again.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. There’s no more need for that. Now you’ve realised you’re both equally threatened by the same enemy, all I’d need to do is ask politely for your help. And that wouldn’t be a problem at all, would it?’ Fist made a noise that sounded like spitting. ‘But let’s not waste our time with petty arguments. Jack – I wanted to congratulate you on your progress.’
Jack was now sufficiently in control of himself to reply. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, taking a step back as Grey reached the balcony.
‘Really, there’s no need to be afraid, Jack.’
‘I’m not afraid. I don’t trust you. That’s very different.’
‘My boy. If I wanted to harm you, I’d have let your chat with your dear departed mother run on until the whole world realised that your little puppet’s active. Where would that have left you? In a Turing cage for a couple of months, just like on Callisto, then dead, with Fist in the hands of our enemies. I have no interest in that happening.’
‘Say what you’ve got to say, then piss off.’
‘You’re doing so well, Jack. I’m particularly impressed by your decision to work with Harry. I’m sure he’ll be very helpful to you.’
‘How do you know about that?’
‘It’s surprising how much I can gather from those who are still faithful to me. I was very impressed by your little adventures with Akhmatov, too.’
‘You watched all that?’
‘Keeping an eye, keeping an eye. That bird may be blind, but I most certainly am not.’
‘Not looking through Yamata’s eyes?’
‘Good grief, no.’ Grey looked genuinely shocked. ‘The very idea!’
‘You didn’t think to protect me?’
‘I didn’t need to. I knew you’d be kept safe. And besides, I have no interest at all in showing my hand. I’d hate to have anyone see that I’m a little more independent than I should be.’
‘Playing politics with my life. Nothing new there. And with Fist, too. Do you know why they want him?’
‘I wouldn’t know. Perhaps they want to use his weave-hacking skills to help smuggle drugs, perhaps they want to attack the Totality and restart the war. That’s for you to find out. To be honest, I’m more concerned by your loyalty issues. I’m no longer your lead patron, am I? I see that East has taken that role. She’s really been very generous. I don’t think she’s installed this much of herself in anyone for a couple of generations. She’s fallen for you hard, Jack.’
‘I won’t be using what she’s given me.’
‘If you say so. Perhaps there’ll be no need for it.’
‘I won’t, Grey.’
‘I’m sure also you won’t be taking up the offer from that mind you rescued. Your view of the Totality is too naïve, Jack. It might have been wrong to go to war with them, but that doesn’t mean they can be trusted.
Steer clear of him.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘I’m sure you are.’
A moment of silence. A breeze danced around them. Strands of hair lifted from Grey’s head, then fell back again. Jack noted the real-time environmental interaction, and despite himself was impressed by Grey’s attention to detail.
‘Do you have anything else to say, Grey?’
‘I’ve been keeping Mr Stabs updated on your adventures. He’s always keen to hear about them, which I take as a good sign. I think he’s coming round to the idea of seeing you both, Fist in particular.’
‘I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want to,’ said Fist. ‘I don’t think you’ve been talking to him at all.’
‘Believe that if you wish,’ replied Grey. ‘And now, I must be going. I’ve shared almost all I needed to with you. I’m sorry you’re not in a receptive mood.’
‘Too right we’re not,’ Fist spat back.
‘Telling the truth; an underrated virtue, these days. And I must warn you that he’s missed a couple of your more obscure weaveports. They’ll let anyone who pings them know you’re onweave. I saw them instantly, but then I have been tracking you very closely indeed. You’ve got maybe three or four more minutes before InSec checks them. Close them now.’
‘Fist?’
The little man had already vanished.
‘You’ll thank me for that, one day,’ Grey told Jack.
‘I’ll thank you for nothing.’
A sad smile spread across Grey’s face. ‘Perhaps,’ he said, then a final, ‘Goodbye, my boy,’ before disappearing. Imagined air rushed into the space that his virtual body had occupied.
Fist reappeared.
‘So?’ said Jack.
‘Don’t forget you’re the one that nearly got us spotted just now!’
‘Was he right?’
‘There were a couple of open weaveports. But nobody would have noticed them! And I’d have caught them with my next check anyway.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Fist. You told me we were fully protected.’
‘We were completely safe, that suitfucker’s just being paranoid.’
‘I want you to run a full firewall and security check, NOW. Keep us completely offweave until you’ve done it.’
