by Ryan Burnett
I peeled off my dirty clothes as I tried to find the common thread that tied one loose end in with the others. New age cultist, AIs, strange powers, college kids, and a billionaire's son. I stashed my gun in my nightstand before kicking the discarded garments off to an odd corner of the room and sliding under my covers to consider things further. To my credit I pondered for a full 15 minutes before succumbing to slumber.
I awoke to the sound of the creaking of my own door. Even through my closed eyes I could tell my conscious mind was tilted and sluggish, and my buzz hadn't yet faded. Feigning sleep as the long drawn out creak played its course I slowly reaching my right hand over to the night stand and the small revolver it contained. As I neared my goal I could feel a weight slam into me, small hands pressing down against my chest and pinning me to my bed. I struggled abandoning the gun trying to get a good position on my attacker grabbing their arm and rolling them over pinning them underneath me. I held my assailant down, I could tell from the feel of the body that she was female but it was impossible to know more in the darkness, I kept my grip firm but she didn't struggle, and I held her there, locked together in the still blackness.
"Marcus..." that voice was Angela's, how....why....
Her face began to take form in the darkness and as it did my grip loosened, suddenly she came more fully into view surging up towards me, her lips locking over mine, her tongue fervently caressing my own. My grip relaxed even more as she took my hands guiding them over the soft swell of her breasts, her tense nipples protruding through the thin fabric of her shirt and dragging across my fingertips, the motion of her breathing pressing them against my palms. I pulled my head back slightly, I wanted to say something to her about ...hell I didn't know what but I wanted to say something...but as I saw her mischievous smile through the onyx veil of night, all thought was smothered by desire. With a deft and forceful twist she shifted her weight again, we rolled over and now she was straddling me, the devious expression strangely clear as she removed her shirt. Her curves fit her petite frame and lithe body. She arched over me and kissed me again, stroking my neck with one hand while her other hand ventured down my chest going lower and lower until she reached the object of her desires now stiff from her illicit embrace. She had me in her hands. Surprised, paralyzed, enthralled and transfixed by her passion.
Abruptly she stopped her body untangling with mine to stand up straight on the bed wobbling only slightly as she was finding her balance against the soft give of the cushions. I ran my tongue over my teeth feeling primal impulses awaken within me. She looked directly into my eyes as she took off her jeans and panties, flinging them to the side of the bed with a wild exuberance. The details of her bare body fully revealed yet faintly hidden by the night. There was a reckless excitement to the moment, as if the world was ending around us and these were to be our last moments on Earth. She lowered to all fours and began to crawl up my body kissing every patch of skin on the way there until I grasped her hips aligning them with my own, entering her with a gasp that transitioned into a soft moan. Each thrust in our slowly building tempo became more zealous and wild, intimate and deep, rolling together in a sensuous ball and climbing over each other’s bodies again and again until we reached a frenzied climax, breathlessly collapsing onto the bed.
"Angela......" I couldn't say anything other than her name. Invigorated yet exhausted, I struggled to find the words to address the million things on my mind.
"Call me Rhodera..." she said in a distracted faraway voice, as if I had interrupted her while she was trying to solve a difficult Sudoku puzzle.
"Rhodera...Is that your real name?" I asked. Curious as to why she would have given us a fake name to begin with.
"Marcus, rest now. There will be time for questions in the morning" she said as she snuggled against my chest. At that moment in time, I couldn't have imagined more perfect words.
******************************************
"Hahaha, you son of a bitch!" Rob's gruff voice stirred me from a satisfied slumber. I was only half surprised that my bed was empty; last night seemed like a surreal dream... Angela...or was it Rhodera? Whoever she was…I could tell by the lack of her presence and the sound of Rob’s voice that she was undoubtable left the apartment but I wasn't worried quite yet...there was only one place she could possibly be headed too. That meant though I probably didn't have a lot of time to waste.
"You don't even know the half of it" I replied groggily unable to keep a sheepish smirk from creeping across my face. It was early but I already felt like I needed a beer, fighting the urge to make a beeline for the fridge, I began to head for the shower. The cool water helped to wake me, bring me present in the moment and out of the phantom remnants of the previous night. I emerged dressed and ready my craving having shifted more towards a hearty breakfast rather than a cold bottled brew.
"What's up Rob?" I asked. Knowing he wouldn't have woken me without a reason.
"Where's the girl?" he asked me back, having notice her conspicuous absent while I was in the shower.
"You've obviously been up for a bit. You didn't see or notice her leave this morning?" I inquired.
"Well...that's what I had to talk to you about Marcus. I did some thinking last night and I ended up leaving for a walk to clear my head...The more I walked the more I was convinced that there was a call I had to make. I went back to my own place last night Marcus, and well...I made an executive decision. We've cashed us out of this one. Our employer has the coordinates and we have the finder's fee. I know we usually go for the whole enchilada but things were getting insane and waaaay deeper than I was expecting...I feel guilty for not consulting you but I've already received our payment. I sent you your half the first thing this morning and well.... fuck man, just check your bank account “he said in a voice that was flustered and ecstatic.
I maintained a stoic silence as I induced the virtual world of the VRN to overtake my perception. Once again I was in the suite of the virtual building I liked to call Nellix tower. Through the giant window the morning sun made the whole cityscape appear to shimmer as if the buildings were made of platinum. Mentally willing to open my bank account caused the room to darken ever so slightly and for one of the walls to bring up a financial display. Any other day I would have thought that there was an error in the rendering or that I was miscounting the zeroes....Rob really had cashed out BIG and as much as I wanted to I couldn't blame him at all. I knew Rob. I knew how he was...with a bottom line like this there was only one course of action he was capable of taking.
I came back to the real world and Rob's anticipating stare. Keeping my silence I tried to think. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
"Come on big guy, why are we even here in Arc? We should be catching the first flight to Vegas or at the very least preparing to tear downtown a new one. Shit we can go anywhere, Rome, Sydney, you name it and we're there....come on Marcus....fucking say something!"
"I can't let this one go Rob. I have to go to the warehouse district." I said in a calm and level voice.
"Dude....Marcus....We're done. This isn't our job anymore. You mad?" he remarked slightly confused.
"Mad at the guy who has been saving my ass over the last few days and just made me filthy rich? Not particularly" I answered.
"So this is over then?" He half asked and half stated.
"Not for me." I replied. Any other scenario and Rob would be absolutely right. A certain part of me wanted to listen to Rob, wanted to take the money and spend it doing god knows what and forget Alex ever existed. At some point though this had become about something bigger than money to me. I had caught a glimpse at something I wasn’t entirely sure mortal men were meant to see. Rob may hate me for it…hell I may end up hating myself for it… but I knew with perfect clarity that for better or worse that I could never forgive myself if I walked away from this mystery now.
"This isn't about Angela is it? A one night stand and now you're gonna charge into the jaws of death for some chica that
you don't even know!"
"This isn't about her Rob. I've seen too many things here, I have to know the ending to this story...it's who I am. It's my nature." I said...feeling the truth in my own words even as they fell out of my mouth.
"Well I'm out man...I love you like a brother but I am out....You're free to do what you want buddy and I wish you the best but I have a feeling this story doesn't have a happy ending...I mean...Christ...not knowing when to let it all go and turn a blind eye...you're like a cop sometimes you know that?'
"You take that back!" I quipped smiling and reassured in my own purpose. We both had a laugh at that. I took my gun from the nightstand tucked it into my pants and got ready to head out the door with Rob. We crossed the threshold and I locked the apartment behind me.
"Try not to get killed. I'll be around for a couple more nights...find me when this is all over, we've got some celebrating to do." he said.
I nodded and shook his hand. He returned to his car and my path took me to Orion to see if I could convince Xavier to do me a favor or two.
Chapter 26
13:05:48
Cid
Frait had the nerve to smile at me before he started to speak. He looked even more impudent than ever, assured of his own safety in the sanctuary of my rival. His traitorous voice was antagonistic yet casual as it carried over the humming of the server stacks. Just how long had the odious snake been working for Ostan? It was strange, but in a way this damnable arrogance made me glad. It would more than justify my eventual payback and make it that much sweeter. Red thoughts growled in the corners of my mind as his words filled my ears.
"The Dominance program was originally designed to suppress neurotransmitters and not stimulate them. The idea was to actually halt the biological processes of anger, aggression, and independence. We sought to completely override the fight or flight response, stimulate empathy, as well as a whole host of other phenomenon in order to induce a highly suggestible placid and docile state at will. This was uncharted territory, after a limited amount of success with the Damocles program further integrating brain function with VRN modules was a vast new frontier whose limits we could only guess at, we began research with a great degree of optimism.... I am not a proud man, nor am I too arrogant to admit that it was partly my own failure as a scientist which prevented our original goals from ever being realized. I suppose I do owe you an apology for that at least Cid." Edgar stated.
The sincerity in his voice was sickeningly apparent but totally wasted on me. I took another drink letting the liquor act as a catalyst for my anger as Frait continued to talk. His eyes not meeting my own, staring out into the dark corridors of the warehouse as he revealed all he knew.
"Our efforts though were not completely in vain, we had made an early discovery that kept reoccurring as the research process went on. The Dominance program created a neurological response that rapidly degenerated into a feedback loop that actually over-stimulated the areas we were trying to suppress. In layman’s terms we could create the opposite effect we were looking for quite easily, and were able to amplify feelings of anger and rage within our test subjects. Cid eventually handed down the directive to change gears and work on different applications of this aggressive response. Medicinally to help prevent losing patients during surgical procedures, therapeutically for combating addiction, we even developed the software into a virus for weaponized deployment. Through these tests we learned so much about the brain's response to digital stimuli, research that one day will no doubt be invaluable but... these projects are all merely byproducts of the pursuit of a much larger goal. A goal that I believe Alex's data is the key to. When the latest version of the Dominance program was activated inside Alex's VRN the evidence suggests that he actually demonstrated an increase in willpower and freedom from his electrical addiction without demonstrating the hyper aggressive behavior we have observed time and time again. It's a breakthrough that could lead us to the very precipice of...well whatever Cid desired I suppose. Cid....What were you intending to do once the Dominance program was perfected by the way? You already have a small army of pawns who live in abject fear of you. Was it world domination? Something less cliché? I assure you I am trying to withhold judgment, my curiosity is purely academic.”
He eyes finally settled on me as he stopped talking. As if he was actually hopeful of answers or cooperation. I leaned across the table in my seat bringing my face closer to him and Ostan.
"I'm not telling either one of you a god dam thing." I spat back at them. I narrowed my sight directly onto Ostan's eyes once again.
"How long has that bastard been one of yours? And just how many people did you bribe to get him past my background checks? What's your endgame Ostan? Trying to steal my own technology away from me like a petty thief? I thought you were "above" such worldly things." It was difficult to control my contempt. I could feel the impulse building up within me, the urge to throw the table and shatter the glass across the floor. To throttle Ostan and watch the horror in Frait's face before I came for him next. I took another sip of my drink. A long sip.
Harrold Ostan took a moment to run his hand through his hair seemingly at a loss for words. An action that was all an act. Rarely ever was there a time where Ostan didn't know exactly what to say, I had been a fool to do business with this silver tongued devil.
"Always looking for something for nothing Cid. Tenacious. Practical. That's what I've always liked about you. The practicality. I myself am a visionary. I'm an idealist... but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate practical people. Cid, Edgar has only started my employ as of this morning. I had no knowledge of your movements until today, so you can put away the accusations. I'm not here to "steal" your idea...only Mr. Frait here. You see Cid you may not have realized it but I believe your research is once again a factor in one of the most significant developments in the history of mankind. Rare for a man to leave his mark on the world more than once. You should be proud."
Something in Ostan's tone of voice gave me pause. His tone was all wrong. We had been through these paces before, when my intensity reached its peak Ostan replied with a logic calculated to cut through my anger. That formidable intellect was a large part of what had helped me build my empire once upon a time, Ostan had a mind that could see through emotions and wager fortunes without a second thought....so why did he sound unfocused and apologetic right now. I was smart enough to know when I was being "handled" but this was something entirely different. That wistful and dreamy tone didn't sit right at all.
"....Harrold. What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked, trying not to lose myself in the boiling flow of my thoughts.
"Cid. Let me start at the beginning. Do you remember what it was like back then? Money was pouring in thanks to the success of the VRN. You dove headfirst into the world of corporate maneuvers and politicking with a ruthless abandon that would put a great white to shame and I began the Photographist movement. A revolution of the human mind unlike any other. People of all walks of life were begging to be included in the program and I welcoming them all with open arms. It may have been the happiest period of my life, seeing this unity spring from nothing...and the best part was I didn't have to base it on a lie! I didn't have to cajole, threaten, or change people's mind. I shared my vision and they simply flocked. It was beautiful. However practicality was never my strong suit and soon there were problems. The unanticipated amount of Photographists created an unprecedented amount of data to sort through with more accruing all the time. It was a simple mistake. I had expected the amount of people volunteering in the sorting and artistic creation process to be around 2% ...in reality though that number was far below 0.5 % and we had far more raw video recorded than we ever expected with no way to process it all. I was able to procure the services of a few individuals but not nearly enough who were qualified. What made things tricky was that I refused to hire artists who were only motivated by money. Who didn't truly believe in my vision wasn't an option...in fact it went against everything
it stood for. My dream was hobbled just as it was starting to truly begin. I would stay up late at night thinking "I have the wealth, I have the will, and I will be damned before I let my project be defeated by a mere oversight". So I liquidated. I sold the stock that had once secured me a place on VirtuWorld's board of directors. I gathered my money and I commissioned the design of a host of custom AI’s. Custom in the sense that I wanted them to be able to learn to select video and image samples while at the same time having no preconceived values of what was right or wrong morally. They were only to operate based on selections made by pattern recognition programs and aesthetic judgments. They were functional but in many ways they were a blank slate. I don't think anyone has ever paid so much for so little but the minimalism was the entire point. If I wanted to "fake" the eyes, ears, and soul of an artists I needed to start with nothing. As you can imagine it took ages to even assemble a team who had the algorithmic know how to begin designing them. Out of the commissioned originals thousands accrued compound errors that soon rendered them unable to operate. Time, money, and random chance eventually graced us with 280 distinct virtual entities ready to be surrogate artists and at last all was well in the cosmos. I was substantially poorer but I had made my project work without sacrificing its integrity. The virtual entities did an astounding job assisting our artist in video selection and our first human legacy project was a work of unparalleled beauty. The Photographist movement gained steam and we had more income and participation than ever before. That is when the first miracle happened."
Despite myself the anger had faded and I was enthralled by his words. He no longer sounded like a CEO or a philanthropist...he sounded like a prophet or minister. Like a man preaching something that was beyond his understanding but encapsulated his belief entirely.
