by Lee Bond
“Fifty levels to the top.” Trinity warned. A whole Stack, plunged into darkness. The people trapped inside would be losing their minds. A solid billion people, sunk into their own relative Dark Age, with four creatures from Arcade City roaming amongst them, and a fifth scouring the world around them into nothingness. "And another fifty below."
When those Arcadians made it to the center of the maze, when they confronted each other and Book… Trinity could easily imagine the pandemonium. 101 levels. Gone. Done for. And with unregulated, uncontrollable Kingtech right smack dab in the middle of the carnage.
“I can see that.” ADAM knew what he needed to do.
“You know what you …”
“Goddamnit, Trinity, I can fucking well see what needs to be done.” ADAM snapped his fingers and the commands were issued. “Eat a dick.”
The screens shifted to a nearly endless, boring-looking collection of massive girders. Each one was formed from steel-VII, and there were millions of them, each one another link in a chain holding Stack 17 together and connecting it to it’s brothers and sisters. Connected to each girder of 17 and those neighboring Stacks was a detonation pack.
When the charges went off, everything connecting 17 to the rest of Zanzibar would be sundered. Supplemental power core connections, water and waste management, connecting roads, bridges, tunnels and pathways … everything would be gone, with no hope of repair.
The first of the packs erupted. Then all the screens flared with destruction. The groans of all that metal being cracked would travel through the whole of Zanzibar, transported across metal bones of the giant beast, and everyone, everywhere, would tremble.
“A billion people, ADAM.” Trinity reminded dolefully. “One billion men and women who didn’t need to die, because of your hubris.”
“They’re not dead yet. The other Stacks might rally and provide aid and succor. They might figure out a way to turn the lights back on themselves. The support beams keeping 17 from slanting into one of the other Stacks are still in place. As long as 17 stays upright, I calculate more than eighty percent will survive. They can do it. As you like to point out, they’re a tough breed, these humans.”
“Four Arcadians wander amongst them. One has already built the closest thing to a nanotech suit this Universe has ever seen, and I suspect it’s more dangerous than either one of us can predict. One fights like Garth N’Chalez and probably harbors some portion of the King’s anarchic, megalomaniacal tendencies as well as his CyberPriestly penchant for pure nihilism. One … well, there’s not much to say about the one with the eye. She doesn’t seem like much of a threat, but there’s simply no telling with these people. And then there’s Agnethea. Indestructible, actually capable of hearing AI substrate chatter, the first of the Golems. They all hunt Book unerringly, which means we are missing something. I cannot imagine what will happen when they arrive, beyond perhaps to suggest that 17 will go up in flames, especially when your Enforcers are taken into consideration.”
“Well,” ADAM switched his mouth back and forth thoughtfully, “when you say it like that, it sounds positively awful down there.”
Unspoken between the two lifetime enemies was ADAM’s suggestion that this could’ve all been avoided, if only certain concessions had been made.
Poor 17. Trapped and alone in the dark. With beasts and monsters roaming the bowels.
3. Orion’s Choice #1: The Fleckers and the Quarrymen
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Politoyov asked Huey, who’d been more than unusually quiet since their host, the AfroEgyptian/MegaTunnel entity calling itself ‘Orion’ had brought them out of Quantum travel around one of the oddest planets the Specter commander had ever seen.
“I think I do.” Huey admitted after another long, thoughtful consideration of the world floating through the emptiness of space. “Only I don’t want to know for certain.”
That was a new one.
Huey T. Roboticus was a veritable font of information, possessing as much –if not more- reliable data on nearly everything and anything Orion cared to show them while it … he … tried to prove he was better suited to be Garth’s choice as operating system for Reality 2.0.
Politoyov pointed as much out to Huey, finishing with, “Why don’t you know where we are? This world has a different feel to it. I think Orion’s finally found a … situation … he’s comfortable in using as the first step in his argument for godhood.”
Huey couldn't look away. It was as mesmerizing as Kith Antal’s Galaxy-ship, though for entirely different reasons; this world was ancient, nearly completely tidal locked, and surrounded by extremely advanced Trinitytech that kept the as-yet-unseen inhabitants alive and well. Everything from oxy-engines to manufactured gravity nodes, the whole nine yards. Though it looked like the world spun on it’s axis maybe once every twenty years, Trinity had gone out of It’s way to keep the people of the world alive and kicking.
Such Herculean effort.
But that wasn’t the most interesting thing Orion about Orion’ first world.
Not by a long shot.
The planet, and therefore it’s peoples, so obviously protected by Trinity, had two suns.
Sort of.
The tech to replicate stellar phenomenon like stars had been around for near about ever, only … Huey’d never heard of or imagined two suns, each operating on a different wavelength, each catering to a specific type of being.
“Those suns are odd looking.” Politoyov said, picking up on Huey’s gaze. “What are they doing?”
“One is … hm. Emitting solar radiation on a very … low and slow level. Whoever feeds off the energy from that blackish orb relies on a low, steady diet.” Huey shook his head at the dark star. He’d be able to give Politoyov a much better explanation if he only bothered to hunker down and searched through the ex-dee chip for some local history. The moment that happened would be the moment that Orion would begin crowing his supremacy.
No way was that going to happen!
The maddened MegaTunnel claimed he had no interest in cheating, that all he wanted was for Politoyov to come to his own decision in his own time, and in theory, that was all well and good.
Obviously, that would all fall to shit the moment the Old Man chose someone other than a crazy-insane MegaTunnel to be the God for Reality 2.0.
“And the other one?” Aleksander could barely keep his eyes on the other star; where it’s counterpart was dark and felt … heavy on the eyes, the other sun –orbiting in the opposite direction- was an eighth the size but radiated with such solar fury that if you looked on for too long, it would certainly burn your eyes out of their sockets.
“The inverse of the other, I suppose.” Huey puckered his lips, fighting that urge to peek once again. Orion had definitely chosen this odd little world for their starting point precisely because of the mysteries already unfurled. “The creatures relying on that sun like it bright and hot.”
The AI in a meatsuit quirked his head to one side; a submind pointed out that the dark star moved at a significantly slower orbit around the planet than the brighter sun.
“What is it?” Politoyov looked up and around and all over, wondering when their gracious ‘host’ was going to make an appearance. While he waited for Huey to put his revelation into words, the aging Specter commander reflected on the terrible majesty of this immense Quantum Tunnel yet again.
Reflected on it, and how, if he’d known from the start that they were using something like this to bounce Specter troops into The Cordon, he might very well have begun refusing Trinity’s offers.
The enormous Quantum Tunnel -with it’s array of standard tunnels encircling the thousand mile wide aperture and the even smaller ones running along the fringe of the second tier- was precisely the sort of thing that Trinity Itself found reason to destroy solar systems over; in both his time in Army and Specter, Politoyov had seen many things that staggered credulity, seen them and witnessed firsthand Trinity’s punitive hand when it came to ille
gal experimentation.
Now, Politoyov was among the first to admit he understood next to nothing about how AI minds truly worked, and even less about the technology that allowed for Quantum Tunnels to dig through the skin of the Universe, but there was one thing that was instantly recognizable.
And that was bad ideas.
He’d become something of an expert on bad ideas during his tenure as leader of the wild, wooly and most often stark raving insane Specters, and when he looked at Orion, he wanted to stroke his bristly orange beard, shake his head and mutter some choice IndoRussian curse before moving on to something else.
“I’m sorry, what?” Politoyov realized Huey’d finally gotten around to explaining the idea that’d struck him, only he’d been deep in worried waters.
“I said it looks like there are two different species living on this world. The ones who benefit from Big Boy over there … I think they’ve got an incredibly slow metabolism, while those who rely on Short Round …”
Aleksander nodded with understanding, finishing Huey’s sentence, “Undoubtedly burn as bright and fast as the sun itself.”
“Oh,” Orion announced with pleasure as he materialized beside the two men, “it’s rather more fascinating than all that, I assure you. Not only are you correct about the nature of the people who live on this world and their relationship to the balls of light in the sky, each race is entirely ignorant of the other’s life-giving source of energy. Trinity went to great effort to ensure that the inhabitants of this world be blind to such things. That trick alone took more time and patience on It's behalf than you can imagine."
“Nice of you to make an appearance.” Huey grumbled, backing up a bit to put some space between him and Orion; the AI noticed with a bleak smile that Politoyov did exactly the same, and that the insane Tunnel intellect made a great show of pretending that nothing had happened.
Good. Everyone was onboard. No one trusted anyone.
Orion smiled, flashing his bright white teeth at both men. “You, ah, gentlemen know that I am always here.”
“You know what Huey meant.” Aleksander replied curtly. “I urge you to release us, Orion. No good can come from our imprisonment. People are undoubtedly looking for us, and when they find us…”
“Presuming they possess not only the intellect and machinery to do so but also the knack of determining precisely where we will be at any given moment, they would still stand no chance, Aleks.” Orion rolled his eyes. “Please, reconcile yourself to the fact that you are to be arbiter in the decision of which being, myself,” Here, Orion gave the most gracious and theatrical bow he could, complete with a long, slow sweep of an invisible hat, “or Huey over there, who looks more like an underwear model from the 21st century.”
When it became apparent that his nemesis wasn’t going to rise to the challenge, Orion instead gestured to the world resting by their feet. “Gentlemen, I give you Arlass World. The first, hm, challenge between two artificial intelligences that would be god to the new Reality that rushes towards us. The rules are simple.”
“Rules?” Huey and Aleksander demanded at the same time.
Orion nodded quite sincerely. “Oh yes, rules. There are rules for everything in life. Unless of course, you are Garth N’Chalez, but he isn’t here. He’s off doing the things he needs to do, so … rules.” The simulacra stared sideways at Huey, a smirk on his dark face. “Are you certain Garth actually meant for you to be his Godhead, or was that something he just told you to make you feel better about yourself?”
Huey took a deep, calm breath. There was no point in reminding himself that calm and caution were the watchwords for the day. Unless something drastic happened to change the balance of power, there was very little he or Politoyov could do to the powerful Tunnel Intellect. They were trapped.
The game was just going to have to be played until the Tunnel … he … it slipped up somehow.
It was possible; the amalgamation of minds was a smug, cocksure sonofabitch, and if there was one thing that guys like that did, it was screw up sooner or later. It was practically in the handbook.
Orion made a face at recalcitrant Huey and rolled his eyes at Politoyov. “This is the kind of thing I’m talking about, Commander Politoyov. A new Reality, full of dimensions, run by him? So dour and unresponsive. Sounds like a terribly boring place. What do you say, friend? Pick me right here, right now, and everyone … well, you … can get back to your boring war and I can get on to the business of creating Reality 2.0 without further delay.”
Politoyov looked at Orion plainly. “Assuming for the moment that I’m even remotely interested in playing this ‘game’ the way you intend, there are certain things you need to underst…”
“No, Politoyov, I need understand nothing.” Orion’s voice was firm, full of resolve. And, naturally, just the slightest tinge of lunacy. “You need to understand the rules. So the game can be played properly.” The powerful hologram raised a hand in recognition of certain aspects of how things really were. “Now, now, I get it. Here I am, a sentient Quantum Tunnel in possession of real, legitimate power and you’re a mortal Offworlder who’s seen some interesting things and he’s just a Knowitall AI in a meatsuit. You must think that I won’t abide by my own rules, that I’ll change things up the last second to make certain that I get the win, but I assure you, that’s not how this is going to work. I will –regardless of what Huey thinks- adhere to your decision, Commander Politoyov. In all the Universe, there are few men as rational and logical as you. It’s one of the reasons that Trinity chose you in the first place. It would be a lesser being indeed that didn't listen to a man with credentials such as yours.
Huey and Politoyov exchanged very nearly telepathic glances. Both men knew instinctively that anyone who went to such great lengths to profess their willingness to ‘let shit happen’ and that they ‘totally wouldn’t cheat to win’ were, in fact, precisely the sort of person who’d cheat so hard it’d be like watching a poker game played between con artists.
“Fine.” Politoyov rumbled, hating the situation. “What are the rules of this ‘contest’?”
“Ignoring for the moment that you put quotes around the word contest, I am pleased you are finally seeing the light of day.” Orion threw his hand at the ominous world once more. “As I said, Arlass World. The first in a trio of trials between two AI minds who would become god. The rules are simple. Each of the three worlds we visit will possess some form of tactical or operational support for the upcoming War to End the Universe. Huey and I will examine each world to the fullest, come to understand precisely what the native species has to offer our great hero, Garth N’Chalez, and how that support may impact Kith Antal and his dreaded Harmony Army and present our case to you. Whereupon you will decide, with that scintillating military mind of yours, which of us has the best use.”
“Gimme a f’r instance.” Of course it would be something like this. Huey should’ve known better; Orion was all about assisting Garth in his ‘best of all possible worst choices’ scenarios, so naturally the megalomaniacal AI would want to gift the man who’d gifted him with sentience the kind of tactical advantages someone like the Engineer would likely need.
“Fair enough, fair enough.” Orion plucked thoughtfully at a lip, then snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, of course. Staring me right in the face. The CyberPriests of Watt. Had they not all been absorbed by the Dark Iron King Blake in his absolutely insane plan to transform the entire Universe into one great big blob of murderously bonkers nanotechnology, how would you best deploy them in the field?”
“I’m just going to ignore the hair-raising implications of everything you just said about Garth’s last mission and focus instead on the ‘Priests, if that’s all right by you.” Huey smiled wanly at Orion’s positively radiant, gloating sneer. “Lucky for you, I know essentially everything there is to know about them.”
“Everything?” Orion asked slyly, eyes gleaming. “Even …”
“Yes, even.” Huey made a rather bla
tant point of looking directly at Politoyov, who did his best impersonation of someone who wasn’t listening with every fiber of his being. “And the long and short of it is, I wouldn’t let those fuckers anywhere near a battlefield. They’re best right where they are, which is dead and buried...”
Politoyov raised a hand, interrupting Huey. “People? I don’t know a goddamn thing about these so-called CyberPriests of Watt are, or why they’d be of any beneficial use, or why you,” the Specter Commander pointed a grizzled finger at Orion, “think not using them is the worst idea ever.”
“Are you familiar with the basics of the Harmony Army?” Orion enquired.
“Are they similar at all to the Horsemen of the Apocalypse? If they are, then yes.” Were it not for the fact that the five men capable of floating in the depth of space without any kind of protection were enemies of Trinity, Aleksander knew he’d give a great deal to have them on his side.
“They were also batshit crazy insane.” Huey interjected heatedly. “The method of their creation broke them completely. Their powers were unpredictable, their minds fractured. They couldn’t even use their powers in an offensive capacity unless they themselves were overtly attacked.”
Orion hooted in triumph before going so far as to do a kind of shimmying victory dance, his traditional AfroEgyptian robes shifting under the glinting light of the binary suns. “That is why I would use them defensively, Huey. I cannot argue any of the facts you cited. They’re one hundred percent correct. The ‘Priests were about as broken as anything in this Unreal Universe could be while still managing to be alive, but the one thing they were great at was protecting themselves. Whole armies could’ve been shielded by their various defensive mechanisms, Huey, whole armies. Even against that which the Harmony Army will bring to the table. But … they’re dead and gone and usable only as your ‘f’r instance’. You both understand what’s going on here now? We give Politoyov a scenario wherein the citizens of Arlass World are to be used in combat against the Harmony Army, he decides which has better merit and proclaims one of us the victor. Whoever gets two out of three wins, becomes Garth’s champion for Godhood, and that’s that. Simple.”
