She felt as if her emotions, as experienced as they were, were quite unprepared to deal with such deep personal involvement.
You negotiated a deal where an entire world’s water supply was agreed, said her AI.
It’s different, thought Helena.
How?
She didn’t know; it was something else she felt but wasn’t able to articulate. As she entered her flat, relishing the prospect of a clear view over London, Helena dropped the luggage she was carrying by the door. She logged into her flat’s AI, requested fresh air and real food. Helena felt indulgent and so allowed her AI to order something costing an entire day’s energy.
There were a dozen messages waiting for her. Scrolling through her inbox as she sat bathed in daylight by the windows of her lounge, curled up with a cup of simulated coffee, her AI listed those she had expected: her brother Michael, David, Michael, Jane and Michael a third time, as well as the agents who had pressed themselves upon her before she left for Jutland. Alexei had left a message saying he needed to talk to her about Lysander. Andreas wished her well and wondered if she would inform him when she would return to work, as they needed to debrief and understand what she had learned, both about the rogue agents and about Mr Chalmers.
The penultimate message was silent and upon replaying it, she could hear breathing, perhaps from two or three people, but nothing more.
The last message was from Johannes.
Helena had skipped the first few, not wishing to be engaged by anything until she had relaxed, eaten and even decadently drawn herself a bath. Yet the summary of the silent message and the discovery of a recording by her Uncle caught her attention.
His lack of action over the loss of his Hound, Rex, puzzled her. She had expected Johannes to come calling ever since she’d taken Rex. The expression of cold determination on his face as he crushed the neck of his own butler in Australia was still fresh in her mind, despite his explanation. Helena knew he could not act so brazenly in London, yet the smoothness of his transition from confident leader and Company executive to executioner made him unpredictable, a characteristic borne out by his failure to act as she anticipated over the theft of his Hound.
He was being attacked,ventured her AI.It is not unreasonable to respond with appropriate force when facing an armed enemy.
Perhaps, acknowledged Helena. But he came for me as well.
You were seeking the boy. There is no evidence yet that he is not seeking the same things you are. Her AI paused.Is it possible you have speculated as to his motivation? There is, after all, evidence he acted to provoke you into heading toward Africa.
Helena didn’t want to contemplate that possibility. Her justification in acting as she had rested on Euros and its staff to being viewed as an undifferentiated mass. To accept that different political parties within Euros were active presented complexities which turned her own decisions from alternatives between right and wrong into shades of grey. She feared that her actions had caused people sympathetic with her aims to be hindered.
Your assumptions are unlikely to be borne out by objectivity.
Helena did not want to talk about it. Let me think, she thought.
I understand, said her AI.
Helena pondered her AI’s increasingly personal turn of phrase. There was no doubt it still perceived the world from a quantitative point of view, but more frequently now it referred to itself in the first person and made sympathetic and empathetic exclamations. The changes brought about in Southern Africa were not static. Her AI was developing a self. In other circumstances, this would have been enough to occupy her completely; now it was more as if she were a patient who knew she had lung cancer but was being told she also had an entirely unrelated case of kidney failure. The thought ‘bad luck comes in threes’ came unbidden to her mind.
Is my AI simply a case of bad luck? Is it even right to think of it as bad luck? The trouble is I can’t tell. As far as she knew, she was the only person to whom this had ever happened. She was indebted to her AI and forced herself to walk old ground one more time: it had saved her life in ways only open to it now that it was developing a sense of self, a sense of its separateness from the world — A world which included Helena.
Her AI’s future course could not be known or even guessed at. Despite decades of genetic experimentation and sociological programs running predictive analysis, the behaviour and development of individual humans in social conditions remained beyond the veil of understanding. Helena did not fool herself into painting a picture of what her AI might be like as a person, nor was it a truly separate entity. They were both running off her brain, her neurons; that meant their fates were intertwined.
Helena was shaken out of her reverie by a hopper passing her window, just fifty metres away. There was no sound but the sudden movement jarred her sense of peace. Impulsively she stood and played her Uncle’s message.
He looked tired in a way nanomachines could not hide. His eyes were dull and his expression drooped with weariness. ‘Helena. I’m glad you’re alive.’ A curt smile broke out across his face. ‘I won’t comment on your newly acquired heroic status. I’m sure everyone else will be keen to view it one way or another. I don’t have the luxury. I am hoping you were the one who retrieved the Hound. I was really hoping to speak with you about it.’ Helena wondered if he had been using a safe line or had given up any pretence of secrecy. She was certain her own lines were being tapped and the occurrence of an encrypted call would raise eyebrows.
‘I have an invitation for you, Loki; an address I’d like to show you. Now is the best time, Helena. Helena.’ He repeated her name slowly, looking into his camera carefully, his eyes searching for something. Gathering himself and leaning back, he said, ‘Don’t leave it too long.’
Attached to the message was a location in the Cloud. It was somewhere only avatars could go.
I would be with you; you would be safer there than here, said her AI.
Why enter into the lion’s den at all? asked Helena.
If you are referring to the biblical text as a metaphor for the current situation, then my only response is to point out that Daniel prospered from the experience, as the outcome was entirely unexpected and certainly improbable.
Helena laughed out loud. My, you are becoming human. Her AI did not respond. It was a compliment, thought Helena, surprised by her AI’s silence.
I am not convinced I like the comparison, said her AI.
Well it was my compliment, not yours, thought Helena.
I have located the nearest node Cloudside; do you wish to arrange entry?
It is a secure area? asked Helena.
It is a volume typically restricted to all but high function AIs and high-ranking Family members. Your Uncle would qualify; neither of us normally would. The attachment contained a twenty-four-hourpermission request. It appears highly probable your Uncle has arranged for its approval in advance of sending us the location’s coordinates.
Helena left her AI hanging and selected David’s message. He was looking rested and well; the injuries he had sustained in Jutland had been overcome entirely. Her heart actually missed a beat when she saw his face. Helena unconsciously looked around her empty flat to see if anyone saw her smile.
This is getting embarrassing, she thought. I don’t even know the man. She tried to remind herself of David and Jane, as well as the secrets he had been keeping from her, but couldn’t muster enough emotional energy to get angry.
Damn it, woman, get a grip. Are you going to go weak at the knees because he rings to see if you’re feeling better?
‘Helena, I hope you’re feeling better. The receptionist told me you’d been discharged today, so I thought I’d give you a call and see how you’re doing.’ He brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. ‘I said I’d tell you the truth. It’s yours. There is also the matter of our friends, Saul and the twins. Are you sure you want this?’ Helena’s consciousness pricked up. ‘This is a dangerous path you’re choosing; don’t walk i
t lightly.’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After Griffin’s threat, David had not even been on her list of people who might warn her off. To be working with Indexiv in this way…
If he is working alongside Griffin, it is probable neither of them are working for Indexiv.
Suddenly overwhelmed, Helena stopped the message as David said, ‘I’d also like to ask you something about us.’
Should have stopped earlier, she thought and, grabbing a light jacket, headed towards the door of her bedroom and her Cloud portal. Her Uncle’s invitation was suddenly quite compelling.
Chapter 13
FROM TIME to time, various corporations and their marketing firms pushed total immersion lifestyles back into vogue. The angle always changed but the destination seemed to stay the same. Life in the physical world was sluggish, gripped by gravity and, no matter how advanced technology became, even Oligarchs were limited by time and physics.
Vast worlds, some even bound by a sense of gravity, did exist, hidden in the ether of the quantum superpositions of the vast network of AIs and static processors linked across the solar system. They provided the braned realities of the Cloud. Many, if not the majority, of the realms created by individuals, companies and governments were represented by physical icons. In other words, they were like the real world in feel and shape: up was up and one’s avatar was typically human in appearance.
Where AIs were permitted high levels of self-development, the environments were harsher and less accessible to humans, typically shown in hard code with little concession for any symbolic representation or rigid designators to unlock the meaning of the environment for unfamiliar visitors.
Philosophically, the Cloud was infinite; technically, it was only limited by the total amount of information that could be processed by all the calculators linked to the Cloud at any one time. If the Spires of the City were ever-changing and capable of disorienting even the most grounded of Oligarchs, the worlds of the Cloud were of another order. AIs had been lost completely in locations folded in on themselves and stories abounded of closed off worlds, pockets and skeins of ordered information which had been forgotten, abandoned or never even finished before they had fallen into ruin.
No limits had ever been set on the volume of worlds which could be created and sustained. Theoretically, the only time any ordered data would ever be recycled would be when the total number of possible permutations of superstates was reached. It was a generally accepted fact that the AIs who formed the backbone of the Cloud had barely begun to scratch the surface of the quantum solutions which existed. The reality was such that if someone created something, be it a picture of a lover, a recreation of a memory, a list of ingredients for a cake, right up to entire private and public worlds, then it was almost certain they continued to exist when forgotten or deleted by their originators. There were even those who argued that information, the fundamental structure of the Cloud, was more real than the physical world of bodies and actual lives. Numerous movements, many of which commanded intellectual respect and cachet, proposed the Cloud was the closest humanity had come to accessing the basic structure of the universe itself. Individual locations within the Cloud, those places where worlds were built in and of themselves, were capable of infinity as well.
No one complained about this state of affairs, as it afforded fantastic levels of privacy; when one could fold hidden dimensions upon themselves and wrap worlds up in virtual space-time to keep out all but the most sophisticated AIs, it was a haven of freedom and the occult.
As with all spaces, some locations were more populated than others. While there were a myriad of public areas, these were only slightly less controlled and regulated than those places created for private and confidential purposes. Huge volumes were charted, mapped and controlled by the Corporations, by the Families and even by Normals. Beyond the fringes of known space, the Cloud became wilder and access was granted by chance, agreement and bargain.
Helena’s own addiction to the life unbounded had been tamed long ago. She had hung up her full immersion Cloud avatar more than a decade previously, when she last got hooked on Speedball.
HELENA HAD other reasons for scaling back on her complete immersion; many of those involved the balance between her work life and her personal life. One could not engage in the plot of an interactive game or story if one had to be en route to Mars for four weeks at a time.
Cloud immersion could range from as light as observing and exploring information space, via the various televisions which could be projected throughout Helena’s flat, to a complete sensory illusion in which the individual would not be aware of the world around them. Many Normals were paid to maintain and upgrade online spaces as well as to hunt down rogue spaces, mutations and errors. These employees would be immersed for weeks and months at a time, their bodies remotely sustained with food, their waste and physical management supplied by their employers mechanically in the real world. They were cheaper and easier to maintain than the highly advanced AIs which would otherwise be required.
Helena patched herself in and opted for a level of immersion allowing almost complete submersion in the online spaces she would be traversing. She selected enough awareness of her real surroundings to keep her grounded.
She chose this partly because she did not know what Johannes was going to show her, or his requirements. Dying online in total immersion was frequently fatal for the real person involved. There were mechanical and electronic safeguards but, as in any highly complex environment, these were never one hundred percent effective at controlling extreme experiences and responses. Besides, many users deliberately circumvented the barriers put in place for their own safety.
Helena entered a public lobby maintained by Euros. A few other Family members from across the world were flitting to and fro, their avatars passing into and out of existence as they used the lobby as a staging point in their journeys.
A low-level AI approached her and asked for her destination. Helena gave it the location. The avatar, in the shape of a golden retriever guide dog, dimmed momentarily as it sought the optimal solution for her journey. Travel through the network that underlay the Cloud was not linear except on the most public routes and, even then, it might be linear only from a logical point of view. The casual user could travel through a number of seemingly unrelated volumes before arriving at the location they sought.
The AI re-solidified. ‘Would you prefer the fastest or shortest route? Any alternatives will necessarily be dependent upon your security clearance.’ A disclaimer flashed across its coat indicating that Euros took no liability for emotional damage, loss suffered or injury to mind, energy standing or reputation arising from following a suggested route. Failure to supply a valid security level would result in exclusion from further guidance as well as more severe consequences, dependent on the location where security clearance proved to be insufficient. The threat was bureaucratic hot air, since trying to enter a restricted location would typically result in the user being dumped back out into the real world.
She asked for the fastest option; she was going straight to the coordinates her uncle had supplied.
The guide pinged its suggested route and she, interested in where she was going, reviewed the last few stops. To her surprise, although the final destination was anonymous, the network map whose millions of limbs among which her route was highlighted in a vibrant blue amongst countless greys, showing that it was another lobby within Euros’ volume. The last three stops would be in-and-out locations, without real content and only offering one route into and out of their volume. They were simply points of transit that would permit Euros time and resources to halt any unwanted visitors from proceeding further.
There were no public exits from the final lobby, although it was clearly designated as a staging area where arrivals would gather before embarking for other locations. Helena used the ‘about’ menu to examine its properties which revealed little traffic and virtually no content. The number of access points outnu
mbered the number of exits. People hung around as if in purgatory. A poorly kept secret hideout at best.
Helena thought this obvious to anyone looking at the entry and exit statistics, but her AI said the information was only available to her because she had been authorised to access the space. No information on the area could be seen by someone outside. One of the earlier rooms would show themselves as a cul-de-sac.
Seeing that each of the volumes she had to pass through contained very little content, Helena opted to travel automatically. The lack of content offered the comfort of increased personal security, so at least one of her concerns was allayed.
Moments later, her avatar, a ghostly version of her real self, adorned with very little additional material except a sheer white outfit of trousers and jacket, emerged into the staging post. Helena felt the oblique comfort of existing in two places at once and the possibilities it offered, even as it overlaid all experience with a sense of doubt.
The lobby was conventional in construction: real world objects, such as seats, lights, walls and understated decorations were scattered about the environment. Helena left her avatar to stand where it had arrived, moving her viewpoint independently to look around. There were no obvious exits and no links to other locations. She wondered at the pretext, since anyone getting into this part of Euros’ network could only have arrived with intent. It occurred to her that Euros kept rooms like this so bland and invisible because it did not want even its own insiders accessing sensitive information about the activities of others using the same facilities.
A People's War (The Oligarchy Book 2) Page 30
