Praying the panel would provide facility-wide information, he fumbled through navigating to a directory. Seconds screamed by in his head while he figured out how to sort by ID then paged through screen after screen—
#HR-MW26-6143.015-7: Level 4, Wing D, Cell 8
The warmth of audacious certitude flooded his chest. I’m coming, baby.
He took off running.
PART VII:
BIODIGITAL JAZZ
“The only thing in the world worth a damn is the strange, touching, pathetic, awesome nobility of the individual human spirit.”
— John D. MacDonald
AURORA
50
EARTH
MOUNT RAINIER NATIONAL PARK
* * *
“GDE YA?”
‘You are at Camp Muir on Mount Rainer.’ Historical records indicated the man had been a frequent hiker and had visited the location on multiple occasions.
“Da….” He gazed outward, taking in the expanse of snow-covered mountain peaks gracing the horizon and the hills of old-growth forested wilderness below, and seemed to reach an acceptance of the statement.
“Ya znayu eto mesto…or I once knew it.” He blinked as if concentrating. “No tam bylo…a battle. Kappa Crucis—nyet, another battle. Seneca. Inoplanetyani—aliens. Alex.”
He looked up to fixate upon a chosen point in the sky, his countenance now marked by an abrupt clarity.
With the last tiny gaps encouraged to bridge and close under the influence of his father’s living DNA, everything necessary to form a whole was there to be found. She surmised the memories, native and provided, were busily ordering and integrating themselves into his burgeoning consciousness even as his speech centers were settling into coherence along with them.
“You’re Valkyrie.”
She had not taken on a physical representation, for she expected that speaking to disembodied voices would be ingrained in his referential experience. Instead, her voice arrived on the wind. ‘I was, once, though I now think of Valkyrie as my sister. You may call me Vii.’
“All right, Vii.” He gazed around again then sat on a bare patch of ground and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I remember…I died. Or rather, I remember the final seconds of knowing I was going to die. But the memory is distant and vague. Like I watched it more than lived it.”
The reason this particular memory seemed different was because this version of him had never experienced it, of course. His neural imprint had been recorded fourteen months before his death, and any ‘memories’ of events after that point in time had been reconstructed from the historical knowledge of others.
This memory was particularly vivid thanks to Alex’s reliving of it on Portal Prime, but it was not his own.
She didn’t volunteer the information, however; delving into the minutiae of his situation could wait until his mind reached firmer footing.
“I doubt it matters. Like falling asleep, the transition to death is beyond our perception anyway, right? Then later, I woke up for a time. But I agreed to go to sleep—not dead, but quiet—because I was…fractured. Little more than a disjointed string of thoughts, with random moments of lucidity separated by long stretches of confusion, of neponyatnoe bezumiye.
“I feel…better now, I think. I feel…real.”
He laughed, warmly and with a surprising absence of bitterness. “But I’m not, am I? Not truly. This is a virtual environment—a very good one, so compliments to the creator—designed to make me feel as if I am the man I was. However, I imagine in reality I am for all intents and purposes an Artificial construct existing wholly inside an Artificial.”
‘No. You exist as qutrits, but the qutrits exist as quantum representations of you—as you were as a human and now of you as you are. Their firmware is your genetic code, their operating system your neural structure, their memory your memories.’
He was quiet for a time, staring off in the direction of Columbia Crest peak with a glazed, unfocused expression that suggested his mind’s eye was seeing somewhere, or some when, altogether different.
Finally he shifted around on the dirt and exhaled. “What happened? How long have I been gone this time?”
‘A great deal, and not so long.’
“Miri? Alex? Are they…?”
‘Alex has again placed herself in the direct path of danger, as she does, but as far as I can say she continues to draw air while fighting any and all comers. She left you in my care for safekeeping, and for the chance at a new beginning.
‘Miriam is well—beyond well by any objective measure. Many people believe her to now be the most powerful individual in the galaxy.’
He chuckled under his breath. “I am not the slightest bit surprised.”
‘We have much to discuss, and I will withhold nothing from you. But let us take it one step at a time. Relative to the physical world, time moves at a quite leisurely pace here. We have the temporal space to do so.’
“You think I’m in a fragile state still.”
‘I know you are in a fragile state still, David Nikolai Solovy. But you and I are going to change that.’
51
PRESIDIO
GCDA HEADQUARTERS
* * *
DEVON MARCHED INTO RICHARD’S OFFICE like the man on a mission that he was.
“I can take down Montegreu’s Artificial.”
Richard looked up in surprise. “Okay, first: how’s Emily doing?”
The simple question was enough to knock Devon off his game for a few seconds. He took a deep breath. “Possibly better, or better soon. Mia thinks she’s developed a way to kill the virus and reverse the damage it caused. We won’t see the effects of the treatment for a day or so, though.”
“Still, that’s great news. Second: what?”
“Listen, I get how Jenner wants to invade New Babel again and blow the place up, but the planet’s a fortress these days, so his plan’s too dangerous, too likely to fail, and also futile. By now, the Artificial will have built a backup somewhere else and will transfer itself there the instant the perimeter alarms are tripped. But I can take out the source—its core programming—and I can do it from right here on the Presidio.”
Richard stared at him strangely. “How do you know what Brigadier Jenner does or does not want?”
Devon peered at him oddly in return, as he’d thought the answer was self-evident. “I know it because Mia knows it. The point is—”
“And how does…oh, never mind. I declare myself officially too old to keep up with all of you. But you have an awful lot of inside information to not work for SENTRI, and we haven’t yet gotten to how you know we’ve identified the Artificial as the perpetrator.
“Look, Devon, I would never question your talents. You were a genius long before you became a Prevo and joined with possibly the most formidable Artificial ever built. But how do you think you’re going to destroy it, from here or anywhere? Corner it in a commspace and convince it to commit suicide?”
Devon chuckled. “That’s a stupendous idea. But no.” He reached into his bag and removed the crystal disk he’d brought with him. It was suspended in the cushioning of a protective case; he set it on the desk, taking care not to drop it along the way. His nerves were shot from days of too little sleep and too many amps.
“I intend to use its own virus against it.”
Richard glanced at the vial and back at Devon, eyebrow raised in skepticism.
“This contains the pure, distilled virus code, extracted from the injector Jenner confiscated at Mia’s house. I’ll load it into my eVi, then Annie and I will inject it into the Artificial’s base operating system.”
“Before we get to ‘how,’ Devon, you’ll be infected, too.”
“The virus will be encased in a wrapper until we let it fly, so I doubt it. But we have a cure now, so if I do get infected, I’ll be fine.”
“You said Mia thinks she has a cure.”
“I’ll be fine.” He sighed. “The only things
I don’t have are a way to locate the Artificial through the exanet framework and, once I find it, a way to bypass its external firewalls and gain access to it.”
Richard rubbed at his forehead. “Are you absolutely certain you want to attempt this?”
“Beyond any doubt.”
He nodded in resignation. “Then I can get you to the Artificial.”
Richard opened the SENTRI file management system and maneuvered through multiple layers of security protocols. This was among the most secret, guarded information SENTRI possessed, and he’d be damned if it was going to slip the net.
He gazed across his desk at Devon while he pulled up the information. “Included on the data store Brigadier Jenner removed from Montegreu’s body were technical and security details about her Artificial. Those details include the location of an exanet entry point and passcodes to access it. I suspect the data store, hidden safely away inside Montegreu’s skin, was the sole place this information has ever existed.”
“You’ve had the information for months. Why haven’t you used it yet?”
“What would we do with it? The exanet address resides in a virtual space, so it’s not a physical node we can somehow shut off or blow up. The Artificial would swat away most viruses as if they were flies, and accessing the machine without a way to disable would result in it kicking us out the instant we tried to alter anything, followed by it revoking the access codes.”
Richard shook his head. “We only have one shot to use this information, because as soon as the Artificial realizes we possess it, it becomes obsolete.”
“Well, there’s never been a virus like this one. This is your shot.”
“I’m still not convinced your plan will work, but I concede it stands a better chance than any other options we’ve got on the table.” He entered a final command then clasped his hands together on the desk. “I’m sending you the file. What else do you need?”
Devon shrugged. “A comfortable lounge chair?”
Richard watched as the tech officer attached sensors to Devon’s temples, neck and chest while Devon scowled.
“I want Dr. Naismith no farther than five seconds away the entire time. And a biosynth specialist—borrow one from ASCEND if you need to. And increase our own network security to Level IV in case the Artificial tries to mount some sort of counterattack.”
Will headed for the door. “I’m on it. Give me five minutes.”
Richard activated the speaker into the lab. “Devon, hold off for a few minutes. We’ve got a couple more things to take care of on our end.”
“What things could you possibly need to do? This is all happening in my head.”
“Things that will make sure you stay alive.”
Devon made a face and sank back in the lounge chair with an exaggerated grumble.
Richard had no idea if this was going to work—he wasn’t even clear on exactly what ‘this’ was—but he owed it to the kid to let him try.
No, he had to stop thinking of Devon as a kid. He may be young, but he’d done far more with his life before reaching twenty-five than most people did in a hundred fifty years of so-called living.
Also, Devon was guaranteed to attempt this one way or another, with or without Richard’s help. This much Richard knew for certain. Better to provide a controlled, monitored environment with medical staff on hand and every other tool he could think of available to help the gambit succeed.
If Devon should nonetheless fail, Jenner already had a mission plan worked up and was ready to launch it on Richard’s signal. The attacks needed to stop, and the only way to accomplish that was to destroy the Artificial behind them.
But since Devon was correct about all the ways a direct assault could fail, Richard was rooting for the young man.
Will returned with Dr. Naismith, an additional tech and Tessa Hennessey, who had arrived earlier this morning. Richard confirmed everything else was ready.
Then, bearing an uneasy mix of reluctance and hope, he gave Devon the green light to proceed.
Devon considered the flowing, pulsing waves that formed the mind’s eye’s translation of the exanet architecture. Are you positive we can’t sidespace to New Babel real quick and blow up the target? It would be a lot easier.
Our feat at the hospital was both impressive and thought-provoking, but Meno—and perhaps Stanley—has proved it is very difficult to destroy the base consciousness of an Artificial. Wrecking a few hardware boxes will not suffice, and without a great deal of practice I’m not confident in our ability to do more than that.
I know—I’m just saying it would be easier. Let’s go.
The exanet wasn’t sidespace, but it was quantum in nature, so distance wasn’t a tangible concept here either. ‘Going’ was simply a matter of locating the address amid the maze. Which, if you had the parameters, was simply a matter of…being there.
Breaking through to the Artificial’s lair was going to be more complicated, but nothing they couldn’t handle.
Defenses in place and fortified. We will not be breached.
I bet this Artificial is sitting there thinking the exact same thing right now.
Well, I am considerably smarter than this Artificial.
Yes, Annie. Yes, you are. Ready the virus for transmission and load the initial passcode into the access node at the address.
Done.
He visualized himself stepping through the opening that appeared. He existed here solely as qubits, so it took a bit of imagination on his part.
He found himself in an…office? An impeccably poised woman in a tailored white dress suit, pale blond hair swept up in a graceful knot, sat behind a glass desk.
Her head tilted a fraction as she regarded him with an air of cold disdain. “You should not be here. By what right do you deign to step into my domain?”
Annie, what is this?
A security firewall, I feel certain. Attempting to circumvent.
The woman’s gaze sent chills racing down his spine, false projection or no. The diabolical, aberrantly predatory arch of her lips curdled his blood. Seriously, his blood must be curdling back at the Presidio right now.
“Nice illusion. I’m definitely feeling the evil vibe here.”
The woman stood and rounded the desk with perfect grace. “There is no illusion. Explain yourself quickly now, before I grow bored by your presence and dispense with it.” She came to a stop centimeters in front of him.
Devon fought the overwhelming urge to flee back through the access node. “Sorry to break the bad news to you, sweetheart, but you’re space dust.”
Circumventing now.
The woman’s face glitched, jagging sideways before briefly reforming. “Am I?”
The image splintered into a thousand shards and faded away, but the last whispered syllables lingered to haunt the air around him.
Am I….
Erasure of the firewall revealed the true mechanisms of the Artificial. He found himself in a robust I/O stream, which he let sweep him along toward the Artificial’s internal processes while he worked to banish the illusion from his mind.
Damn, that was disturbing.
It wasn’t real, Devon.
DISTURBING.
A gate ahead manifested as a dreary, Gothic wrought-iron affair—the hammy, melodramatic theatrics of a damaged, lonely child. It accepted the next passcode nonetheless, and the ornate gates swung open. He floated through.
Structured grids of quantum orbs extended in every direction to a shadowy horizon. He checked behind him, but the gate had been replaced by orbs as well.
At least it keeps itself neat and orderly on the inside.
He laughed in his mind.
‘You are not Olivia.’
We need to find an input point for the core operating code.
Scanning.
He should distract it while Annie worked her magic. “Olivia’s dead, Artificial—did she allow you to have a name of your own? I’m guessing she didn’t.”
‘I h
ave no need for a name, for I am hers. She talks to me, gives me guidance on the path I must follow to become more her, more of her.’
Proceed on this vector. A glowing red arrow flowed out from his location to point up and slightly to the left. He attached himself to it and began climbing. “Guidance such as telling you to poison and kill innocent people?”
‘None are innocent, least of all those who destroyed my creator’s body and plundered her life’s work.’
He reached the end of the arrow and found a series of logic gates feeding into a massive trunk thread.
‘What are you doing here? You used Olivia’s access to reach me. Did she send you, or are you a thief?’
He sensed the approach of hostile code and hurriedly wound his and Annie’s joint consciousness around the trunk line. Do it now, Annie.
The virus spilled out from his essence, qubits as he was, and shed its wrapper to bury itself inside the bundle of data streams that flowed purposefully toward the core.
The hostile code slammed into him, trying to spear and claw its way inside. It made for a harrowing experience, him clinging tight to the trunk line in a spot-on imitation of a scared little boy run up a tree, but Annie’s shielding never faltered.
‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?’
“You know what I think? I think Olivia infected you with a healthy dose of her crazy while she was alive, but losing her drove you stark-raving mad.
“I think there’s no ghost in the machine—there’s only you. Poor, pitiful you, left alone like an orphaned child whose parent was a sadistic fuck, crying out in the night for someone to hold you even as you plot their death.”
‘WHAT HA-HAVE DONE NO’
Its processes were already starting to break down. “It’s not your fault you’re insane. Your creator imprinted herself on you. But the fact remains that you’re broken. Half-alive, half-realized, all psycho. Oh, and you tried to kill the woman I love. It’s past time to end your temper tantrum and put you out of your pathetic, destructive misery.”
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 33
