Before his helmet went on, Cain called out, “Remember, Toni, no fucking cephaloruptors. I’d rather not have my brains scrambled.”
“Bah!” exclaimed Stein, even as Greyson said, “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I won’t let that happen.”
As Grace slipped the helmet onto Alice’s head, and as had happened each time she had done so six months back, Alice had a momentary surge of claustrophobia, which swiftly passed. . . .
Finally, Toni at a master console gazed at the board, then wrapped thumb and forefinger into an okay sign.
Members of the corporate team then took positions at the various specialized consoles, and Toni looked about and one by one asked, “All green?”
Each of them replied in turn, “Green. Green. Green. . . .” though Dr. Stein snapped, “Yes, yes. It seems at this level, the AIVR, though not communicating, is properly operating. Let’s get on with it.”
Greyson though, had not replied at all, and Toni said, “John, is your console green?”
“Are you certain you want to put six lives at risk?” he asked.
“It’s the only way to save Arthur,” she replied.
Stein snorted in derision. “Save Arthur? Bah! Reactivating Avery is the goal.”
But Toni ignored the doctor and again asked, “John?”
His voice quavering with trepidation, for he feared what might come, Greyson said, “G-green.”
Toni nodded and said, “Let’s hope Avery has enough sanity to follow the rules,” and then she pushed the master switch.
“Damn, damn, damn!” cursed Grace Willoby.
“What is it?” asked Toni, suppressing alarm.
“The brainwaves just went flat,” said Grace, “all but the autonomic, that is; so the brainstem is functioning, but the cognitive areas and memory and perception, and the like . . . all nonfunctioning.”
“Avery has done it again,” said Greyson, now nearly in tears. “He’s stolen their souls. He’s stolen their souls.”
And at Greyson’s holo, six sparkling spheroids seemed to float and glitter and flash. Under each was a name: Caine Easley, Eric Flannery, Hiroko Kikiro, Alice Maxon, Timothy Rendell, and Meredith Rodgers.
10
Courthouse
(Adkins)
Judge Marshall looked at Melissa French. “Counselor?”
Melissa stood and stepped to the witness stand and smiled at Toni. “So, Toni, five months ago, you and a small corporate crew and six members of the alpha team went to the facility and signed in?”
“We did.”
“Under your own names?”
“Correct.”
“Tell me, Toni, did you intend to defraud the putative heirs?”
“Objection, your honor,” said Mark Perry, springing to his feet. “To call Finster Coburn and Charlotte Dupree nee Coburn ‘putative’ is misleading. A probate court has already ruled that they are indeed the heirs.”
“Putative,” said Melissa in response, “for if—”
Judge Marshall held up a hand to stop the flow of words. “Sustained.” Then he looked at Melissa. “Given the nature of this hearing, even though the word ‘putative’ might be correct, let’s leave that for me to decide.”
Mark started to object, but Judge Marshall fixed him with a stare. “I said ‘sustained,’ counselor.” As Mark sat back down, the judge looked at Melissa and said, “Let’s move on.”
“Yes, your honor.”
Melissa turned again toward the witness box, and Toni could see that she was suppressing a grin at having gotten ‘putative’ into the record, even though the objection had been sustained. Small victories, perhaps, but every little bit—
“Did you intend to defraud”—Melissa paused and glanced at Mark, who leaned forward, ready to spring to his feet again—“Finster Coburn and Charlotte Dupree nee Coburn?”
“We did not.”
“Then, what was your intention?”
Toni looked up at the judge and said, “To save Arthur Coburn.”
Even as a gabble of voices swelled across the courtroom, Mark sprang to his feet, a piece of paper in hand, and called, “Objection, your honor. Arthur Coburn is deceased. I enter into evidence his death certificate.”
Even as Mark passed the document to Melissa, the judge banged his gavel and called, “Quiet. Quiet. Or I’ll clear this courtroom.” Quickly, silence fell.
Giving the certificate a scornful glance, Melissa snorted and said, “Prematurely signed,” and she gave it over to the bailiff, who passed it on to the clerk.
The Judge held out his hand for the document. He looked at it a moment and then handed it to a bailiff and said, “Mark it exhibit”—he peered at a small holoscreen—“H-seven.”
Marshall then looked at Toni and asked, “In spite of all evidence to the contrary, you truly believed that you were attempting to save Arthur Coburn’s life?”
“We did, your honor.”
Judge Marshall shook his head and sighed.
Toni’s heart fell. Uh-oh. That’s not a good sign.
Marshall looked at Melissa and said, “Continue, counselor.”
Melissa faced the panel of experts. “Let me ask you this, Toni: wasn’t that a dangerous thing to attempt?”
“It was.”
“Yet in spite of the danger, you went ahead?”
“We did.”
“Why?”
“Because we knew that Arthur Coburn’s mental pattern, his consciousness, or as Dr. Greyson believes, Arthur’s very soul was trapped somewhere inside of Avery.”
“Objection,” said Mark. “Not proven. It is merely Miss Adkins’ conjecture. Besides, there is no scientific evidence whatsoever that souls—”
“Your honor,” said Melissa, “we intend to show that this is more than conjecture, because—”
Judge Marshall again held out a hand to stop the flow of words. “Sustained.”
Melissa started to object, but Judge Marshall looked at her and repeated, “Sustained. Move on, counselor.”
Melissa turned to Toni. “Toni, please rephrase your answer. Why did you do this dangerous thing?”
“Because we believed that Arthur Maxon’s mental pattern, his consciousness—and perhaps his soul—was trapped somewhere inside of Avery.”
“And how did you intend to free this trapped mentality?”
Mark started to protest, but Judge Marshall said, “Overruled. I’ll let the witness answer this question, for I would like to hear it myself.”
He nodded at Toni and she said, “We weren’t certain whether or not we could free Arthur, but we thought that if we inserted the alpha team into Avery’s virtual reality, they might find a way to do so.”
“To free Arthur Coburn, himself?” asked Melissa.
Toni said, “Perhaps. If the Black Foxes could find Arton—Arthur’s virtual reality persona—and set him free, then perhaps we could find a way to reactivate Arthur’s full consciousness.”
“And what happened when the alpha team entered virtual reality?”
“Their brainwaves went flat, all but the autonomic. To all intents and purposes, their bodies were nothing more than living vegetables. Avery, you see, had sucked their minds into himself.”
Again the courtroom broke into a babble, even as Mark Perry protested, “Objection, your honor, there is no proof that—”
And outside the courthouse, shouts of concurrence and roars of dissent rose up from those who had been following the trial on their handhelds. Among the various religious groups there were cries of “Soul stealer!” and “Avery, spawn of Shaitan!” and “The beast is upon us!” while in opposition from the more scientifically-minded there came calls of “Superstitious idiots!” and “Listen to reason!” and “Neither God nor Satan has anything to do with this!” while among the college crowd from the U of A there were cries of “Upload now for a shot at immortality!” countered by “If you upload, who will you sleep with?” drawing the response “Anyone I want!” There were also cries of “Zealots for calm!�
�� as well as “Up with the downtrodden and down with the uptrodden!”
Off to one side and standing in the shade of a tall palm tree, Frankie Roberts of News Holo-4 said into her mike, “There you have it, one of the central issues of this hearing: can Avery really suck living consciousnesses into himself as Dr. Toni Adkins claims, or does Avery somehow instead shut down their brains and simply mimic their minds within?”
(Coburn Facility)
11
Five Months Before the Hearing
(Coburn Facility)
As Kat Lawrence and Carleen Alsberg hooked up cables to the main distribution panel, Al Hawkins, Mike Phelan, and Luiz Vizcarrondo trundled a load of Flexon ten to the side of the flatbed.
“Ah, Flex,” said Kat. “Better than last time, when we had to jury-rig pipes.”
“Si, princesa,” said Luiz. “We almost di’n’ make it before. Not enough pipe the right size. This, though”—Luiz kissed his fingertips—“perfecto!”
Carleen glanced over. “Well, it looks like more than enough Flex to reach the H2 this time.”
Hawkins grinned. “Yeah, Carly, but that’s better than falling short.” Hawkins turned to Phelan. “Mike, fetch the couplings while Luiz and I prep the ends.”
As Mike strode toward the hardware room, Al glanced at the Astro and asked, “That baby grounded?”
“Six-strand double-ought bolted to the building frame,” said Carleen. “That good enough for you, Hawky?”
Both Al and Luiz chuckled, and Al said, “It’ll do.”
As Mike came back carrying couplers, Kat looked upward, as if trying to see all the way from the second sub-basement to the sixth floor above, and said, “I wonder how they’re doing up there.”
Even as Toni stepped toward Dr. Greyson’s console, she glanced at Grace Willoby and asked, “Flat? They’ve gone flat?”
“Yeah,” replied the medtech. “Just the brainstem functioning.”
His voice filled with stress, John Greyson again said, “He’s stolen their souls.”
And at Greyson’s holo, sparkling spheroids seemed to float and glitter and flash, small bursts of sparks stuttering within and across each one.
Toni glanced at the six names as the related spheroids slowly rotated. She sighed. “The alpha team.”
“Yes, yes,” said Greyson. “Trapped again in Avery.”
Dr. Stein stepped over. “Well, that’s settled.”
“What, Henry?” asked Toni. “What’s settled?”
“Arthur Coburn’s so-called trapped mentality is not among them. This was a ruse by the AI to shut down the minds of the alpha team.”
“Perhaps not,” said Billy Clay, the comptech swiftly inputting data into the keyboard at his fingers.
“Why not?” challenged Stein.
“Well,” said Billy, studying the holo before him, “as best as I can determine without actually being able to speak with Avery, I think the mentalities of the alpha team are in volatile memory.”
“And . . . ?” demanded Stein.
“And, doctor,” said Sheila Baxter, the other comptech, “it could be that Arthur’s mental pattern has been shifted to permanent memory, and we have no access to that.”
“Bah!” Stein looked at Toni. “Stolen souls: foolishness. Avery is merely showing us these ersatz patterns to dupe us.”
“Then how do you explain the fact that their brainwaves are flat?” asked Toni.
“We are only seeing what Avery wants us to see. Besides, even if Avery has somehow shut down the mentalities of these six fools, I tell you we can safely use the modified cephalorupter to restore them to full function.”
“No!” roared Greyson. “No! You can’t do that!” He pointed at the holo. “There are their souls, their very souls. If you restart their-their . . . their brains without their souls, they will be monsters. And I won’t let you loose six soulless creatures upon the world.”
“Bah!” scoffed Stein.
“Toni,” pled Greyson, gesturing toward the six in the witches’ cradles, “don’t let him use that-that thing on them.”
“Only as a last resort,” said Toni.
“No, no,” said Greyson. “Remember what Dr. Easely said just before the hemisynch helmet went on.”
Toni nodded, Caine’s words echoing in her mind: Remember, Toni, no fucking cephaloruptors.
“You’re right, John. You’re right.”
“You’re even bigger fools than they are,” said Stein. “You might as well practice voodoo instead of science.”
Heartened by Toni’s response, Greyson turned to Stein. “Henry, as I said once before, there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“Oh, feh! Superstitious idiots, the lot of you.”
“Superstitious, you say? Well let me ask you this: you didn’t believe in the abilities of the alpha team, but look at what they did: control of shadows, of sound, of Timothy becoming Mark Perry. How do you explain that, if not as something beyond your vaunted intellect?”
Stein growled. “I don’t know how they did it, but they were tricks. Each of those effects was some kind of trick.”
“No trick,” said Toni. “They can really do those things. Not only Hiroko, Meredith, and Timothy, but Eric, Caine, and Alice, too.”
“Oh?” sneered Stein. “Those latter three claim to have powers, too?”
“Yes!” replied Toni. “Think back to when Eric drubbed that champion fencer at the U of A. Since the previous VR adventure, Eric has never been bested in any kind of contest using hand weapons—the épée, the saber, the rapier; darts, pistols, and the like. And Caine made a spectacular recovery from his insanity because he healed himself. Not only that, but he cut me and then healed me by taking the cut unto himself, which began to close even as I watched. And Alice, think back to that survey of animals on Velega Isle; she wrapped it up in five weeks instead of fifty-five. I mean, that island is rather large. And how did she do it? Well, I’ll tell you, Henry: she can sense the presence of animals; unerringly track them; call them, too . . . fetch them to her. She called a puma for me to see. I tell you this, Henry: the alpha team, the people of the alpha team . . . they somehow acquired the abilities in reality that their personas had in VR. It’s as if some hidden parts of their brains have been switched on . . . something that gives them special powers—ESP, psi, what have you. And if we can find out how Avery did it, think of the good that will do for mankind.”
Toni fell silent, and Henry snorted, yet deep within his eyes a shadow of doubt lurked.
“Speaking of personas in VR, there they are,” said Alvin Johnson. The medtech pointed at Avery’s theater-sized central holo—some eighty-foot in diameter—now flickering into life, and said, “It seems the adventure has begun.”
“Holy jeeze,” said Billy. “Would you look at that.”
Toni glanced up from Greyson’s console and gasped.
“What is it?” asked Sheila.
“My god,” said Toni. “Henry might be right.”
“What do you mean?” asked Greyson.
“The message from Arthur could be a ruse by Avery!” snapped Toni as she turned to the medtechs and Stein. “Bloody hell, we should have anticipated this; it’s a trick he’s used before. Quick, ready warm fluids for the IVs, and nutrients, too.”
Even as the medtechs rushed to do so, Stein strode to the cradles and called up the relevant displays. With a quick glance he said, “You’re right, Toni. Avery is using chill fluids and control of their internal thermostats to affect their met rates. He’s started a urinary dump and is pumping in cold fluid to replace the warm. Their temps are plummeting.” He yelled to the medtechs, “We’ll need glucose, and power therms and thymium and almium and . . .”
Even as Stein rattled off the names of the needed stimulants and medicines and various drips and the gear to warm the fluids, Greyson, burst into tears.
Sheila jumped to her feet and headed for the medtechs, calling over her shoulder
, “Come on, Billy, we’ve got to help. If the Black Foxes don’t get out of there soon, they will be drained of all life.”
12
Itheria
(Black Foxes)
Shivering uncontrollably, Arik awoke to someone shrieking in unremitting horror. Floundering, he tried to rise, and fell once and again and yet again; he was entirely too weak to get any footing. And though neither Phemis nor Orbis were in the starlit night sky, all about him he saw faintly glowing wraiths crowding nigh. And then he knew why he was so weak: they were sucking his life force away. Ineffectually, he waved his sword at them, and they drew back, but only slightly, far enough to avoid the silver-flashed blade, but still they continued to drain him. Groaning, Arik managed to get to his hands and knees, and directly before him, he saw the rising curve of the Kalagar Gate, the portal between Itheria and the demonplane. And he knew he was atop a huge barrow mound, the crest of a broad, treeless, windswept hill, in the middle of the vast Kalagar Wood, for that was where the arch sat. And moaning as would a wailing wind, these clustering spirits were the tortured souls of those who had been sacrificed to power the portal—hundreds upon hundreds of them.
Arik managed to swing about, and he saw at the nearby foot of one leg of the arch lay Ky and Trendel and Rith, with Kane just beyond them, the big man’s terrorized eyes wide but seeing nothing as he screamed and screamed and screamed. And the ghastly wraiths, the tortured souls, were draining these companions too.
Even as Arik inched toward the others, Ky stirred. She raised her ebon-bladed main gauche, and the wraiths drew back from it, for this was a shadowsword, an edge even more deadly than one of silver.
But though the apparitions retreated beyond the dark blade’s reach, still they yet drained life.
“We’ve got to awaken the others,” croaked Arik, “and get away from this hill, away from these wraiths, else we are fordone.”
Ky rolled over to see Arik. “What?”
Arik managed to raise his voice and repeat his words above the moaning of the ghosts and Kane’s screams.
Shadowprey: A Black Foxes Adventure Page 7
