16-01-2001 23:08									#31
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Chapter 30: Free Drone Central


Free Drone Central gave clashing impressions. For instance, most buildings were a polished rust-red colour. To the uninitiated, they were downright ugly. On the other hand, once you realized the general image resembled smooth desert rocks during the evening, the view became pleasing. More clashes were obvious inside the buildings; furniture was designed to be only moderately stylish; the Free Drones valued comfort higher. Most foreigners tended to frown at the decor until they actually used the chairs, sofas and beds. The same was true for clothing; their ratios of comfort versus style were inverted to that of the Morganites. Here Balbo's and Laysa's blue overalls fitted in perfectly (But they removed the logo of the rock-group), and Dorothy's normal white and red clothes were better suited, but much less comfortable than the Free Drones' similar.

Laysa had explained. "We have received tailors, seamstresses and cloth-manufacturers from every human faction on Planet. They all have something to contribute. Morgan Industries gives us designers. Your University gives us technology and equipment. The Gaians are experts on natural fabrics, like Planet's version of cotton. And so on. No wonder, then, that we can produce clothes that fit comfortably."

There was, indeed, a shop that offered University-style clothing, but generally much more comfortable models and in all sizes, and Steiner had paid for some new red and white clothes for Dorothy. "We might as well buy what we can use from here, before we move on."

Balbo and Laysa had become saddened by the talk of leaving. "We really think you are exaggerating the danger here. At least don't go until we have had an opportunity to exchange stories!"

Now they were walking down one of the main streets of Free Drone Central. Hundreds of shops, bars, casinos, restaurants, gaming halls and VR-domes promised to make you a poor but happy individual. Dorothy tugged on Steiner's arm. "Basti, must we leave? I think I could really like Free Drone Central."

Sebastian nodded. "I'm afraid we must. I'm really concerned about your safety, and even though we probably managed to fool the Consciousness into believing we are heading for University Base, I still want a little more headway. Besides, the Free Drones are also at war with the Cyborgs. Cyborg probe-teams are bound to show up. No, I think you'll be much safer in Data-Angel territory." He smiled slightly. "But if we lie low, we can stay here for a while. I understand that the Free Drones maintain very warm relations with the Data-Angels. This might aid us in crossing Morganite territory, but it will take a while to find out if this is so."

Dorothy was actually slightly looking forward to seeing the Data-Angels; mystic heroes of a thousand spy-holos. And there was another possible bonus. "Basti, can I get probe-training at the Data-Angels?"

Steiner smiled. "That's actually not such a bad idea; it'd definitely give you a better chance against the Cyborgs once they find us again. We might try to arrange some, as long as you don't neglect your other studies. Remember; we are hoping there will be a University to return to at the end of the war. In that case it's your knowledge of science that will be most important."

Balbo snapped his fingers. "I've got it! All of our probes receive some tutoring by the Data-Angels as an advanced course. There's regular transports arranged through Morgan Industries' territories for the probe-trainees, and they're supposed to find their way back by themselves. We could probably arrange for you to join one of the groups, provided that Foreman Domai authorizes it."

"That sounds as risky as the other options I have thought of, but at least we won't be alone if something goes wrong. How do we approach Domai?"

"Well, you can wait until he's scheduled to hold a people's conference here in Free Drone Central; uh, about two months from now. But you could also ask our foreman, Jasonian. He'll be able to make sure you can see Domai as soon as possible. He should be in Free Drone Central for most of the time. But I doubt that Jasonian and Domai will assist you for free."

"Naturally. What is Foreman Jasonian's title? I mean, what does he do?"

"You could say he's the mayor of Free Drone Central. He manages it's resources unless Domai has some special plans for it. Currently, he oversees the probe-operations that are staged from here, as well as overseeing the production. He makes sure Domai's assigned tasks are performed. Spark will receive the same status in Morgan Entertainment if he manages to keep the city."

"All right. Where's Jasonian's office?"

Balbo was confused. "Office? Foremen don't have offices. They are expected to deal with each task on it's location."

"Then how can we know where he is?"

"We can't. We'll call him, and then he tells us where to meet him."

Steiner looked down at Dorothy. "Well, I suppose we might as well get started. There'll be time to rest once we're metaphorically holding the tickets to Data Decentral."

Balbo produced a handheld comm-link. "All right; I, Laysa and Jim need to report to him as well. If I remember right, Jim's contract ends now."

"Where is Jim, by the way?"

"He said something about business errands and disappeared into the energy bank. I'll send him a message after I've contacted Jasonian." He dialed a number on the comm-link and waited.

"Hi! Yes, we're all back safe and sound, except for Spark, of course... Yes, that's right. No, I don't think Jim will accept another mission... You know him; once it's experienced it's not interesting for a decade or so. Anyway, I'll also bring one Lieutenant Sebastian Steiner, and of course Dorothy Parks... They want to meet Domai... As soon as possible; they're in a hurry... That's what I said, but they don't think so... I suggested using the probe-caravans... They should be able to; he's fully trained, after all... Got it. See you there."

He put away the comm-link. "All right; We'll meet him at the aerospace complex in one hour. I'll inform Jim."

The hour was spent browsing in shop-windows. Eventually, Dorothy, Steiner, Balbo and Laysa met Jim at the aerospace complex. Jim was already talking to Jasonian.

Jasonian was almost patriotic in his conflicting appearance. Standing nearly two meters tall and extremely powerful, he was clad in jeans and a denim jacket. But he was surrounded by assistants and functionaries, and was busy signing documents and inspecting charts that they handed to him. He wore smoked, circular dataglasses, and a varying red or green glow on his face revealed the torrent of information scrolling by on them.

In short, his appearance was a dockworker and president of a hi-tech company combined.

Balbo and Laysa approached, and Jasonian waved away the assistants. He pushed up the dataglasses onto his forehead.

"Balbo and Laysa, good to see you again! Jim here has already briefed me on the mission, and given his views on the group in general."

Laysa grinned. "Oh dear. We're in trouble now."

Jasonian chuckled and shook his head. "It was all praise, I assure you. And I have only praise to add. Of course, there was one dangerous point where the absence of Dorothy would have been disastrous, so part of the praise should go to her." Jasonian hunched down to bring his head level (or at least nearly) with Dorothy's. "And here you are, Dorothy. What does your person tell us? Will MMI:s soon rule the world as something humans can't survive without? Will this be good or bad? What do you think?"

Dorothy hesitated. "I don't know."

"But I think I do." Jasonian was silent for a while. "Balbo and Laysa, you have done an excellent job. Since you are the highest-ranking members of the probe-team now that Spark is on his way to getting a city to run, you are the new foremen of the team. You'll need to find three new members, to fill up your previous positions and also to replace Jim here. He's decided not to renew his contract."

Jim noted their saddened faces and shrugged slightly. "You know me. I'm not the settling down -type. I'll move on to new adventures. In fact-" He turned to Steiner. "I'd like to accompany you to the Data Angels. It seems like you're in for some exciting times, and I'd like to go along for the ride. If it's okay with you."

Dorothy jumped up and down, excitedly voicing her approval, and Steiner smiled slightly. "You're welcome to join us. And I'd really appreciate if you could act as Dorothy's mentor. We're far outside the lands where a standard University education will be of use; she needs to know the ways of the world." He held out his right hand.

Jim shook it. "Deal."

Jasonian turned to Balbo and Laysa. "Now, your team has four weeks of rest. Part of this time I'd like you to spend in the name of progress." He glanced at Dorothy. "The world is moving into the age of the mind/machine interface, and you must move with the times to stay effective as probe-operatives. So I've authorized both of you for interfaces." He smiled slightly and glanced at Dorothy again. "They are neural-optic. I decided to negotiate with the University for a thousand of them, after the excellent reviews you two gave me. They didn't ask for much in return; merely two assault choppers. Of course, you don't have to accept the interfaces, but I think you can see the need for them."

Balbo and Laysa nodded silently and glanced at each other and Dorothy. Jasonian turned to Steiner.

"You should know that I've already talked to Domai about you. He's wants to meet you and Dorothy the day after tomorrow. He knows why you want to talk to him, so he should have some answers by then. In the meanwhile, you will be assigned a flat in the hab-complex. It's not big, but it's yours for as long as you stay here."

Steiner nodded. "Thank you."

"My working day ends in four hours. I'd like to meet all of you, and hear about your adventures and discuss what the future will bring."

They all agree. They meet Jasonian after work and spend the evening at a restaurant. Steiner, Jim, Balbo and Laysa do most of the talking, with occasional comments by Dorothy. Steiner notes with some concern that Jasonian never asks any specifics about Dorothy's MMI. Probing questions are better than silence.

End of chapter 30.

	17-01-2001 15:33									#32
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Chapter 31: Meetings


See Domai.

He was sitting on a bench on top of Free Drone Central's external shell. Despite being several hundred meters above the ground, the wind was only a slight breeze. It had too little power to grab at his short hair, but it's touch was pleasant on the parts of his face not covered by the breather. Up here, where only his personal assistant and guard and a select few others followed, he could relax. His posture was restful, and his face seemed much older; shaped by hard work and great struggle.

So different from the image on the holovisions, Dorothy thought. Her long hair was easily gripped by the wind, and the breather she was wearing felt uncomfortable.

The leader of the Free Drones seemed to radiate comfort and calm, and overall the atmosphere was relaxed.

"Officially, I have eight hours of work. Same as all adult Free Drone citizens. But that is never enough, and I'd hate to delegate any more than I already have. So I try to find the most comfortable places for the extra work that has to be done. About fifty years back or so I tried working up here for the first time, and ever since, the sound of Planet's winds has been my number one choice whenever I need to relax. And the view is stunning, of course. I'd practice hang-gliding, but it's considered dangerous enough to be showing lack of responsibility to the Free Drones."

He sighed. "Anyway, everybody has understood my reason for being up here, and they tend to leave me undisturbed unless some emergency occurs. Also, up here it's very hard to eavesdrop or hide listening-devices without being detected. Up here we can talk freely. I want you to understand this."

He waited until both Dorothy and Steiner had nodded. Then he leaned forward. "Now, what is so special about you, Dorothy? What do you have that is so precious? And don't give me that same answer about your father. I won't believe you."

Dorothy was taken aback. "I.. I.." Steiner interrupted. "Why do you ask so?"

Domai leaned back again. "Two days ago, when you had left Morgan Entertainment, a diplomat from the Cybernetic Consciousness approached me with an unusual proposal. They'd withdraw from around Morgan Entertainment if we asked Zakharov to surrender Dorothy to them. She claimed that Zakharov was keeping you from being reunited with your parents. But thanks to our close cooperation with the Data-Angels we are quite aware of the Consciousness' desire for talents, so naturally I didn't believe her and told her to disappear. But diplomatically. Further, the diplomat almost admitted they were behind the kidnappings, even though it's one of the Consciousness' most defended secrets. So I wonder: Why are the Cyborgs so eager to get you that they jeopardize their entire talent-extraction program? It's not only the University they target, you see."

Steiner sighed and scratched his head. "I can't tell you much without permission from Zakharov. But.. Dorothy has successfully resisted one attempt at merging with the Consciousness. I suppose they are quite concerned this ability might spread."

Domai nodded. "That could seriously endanger their further expansion." He was silent for some time. "But you already admitted this isn't everything. However, it's enough for the moment. There's a group of probe trainees leaving for the Data-Angels in two weeks' time, and you can travel together with them. In return, I might ask you for a favour some time in the future. Okay?"

Steiner nodded. "All right. By the way, what was the name of the diplomat?"

"Rita Gamma-206. A quite charismatic woman." Domai noticed how pale Dorothy had gone. "Do you know her?"

Steiner nodded grimly. "She's a probe-operative, and the very person that managed to trick Dorothy into attempting a merger. Last time I saw her she was participating in the attempted kidnapping of Dorothy, and the successful kidnapping of Dorothy's parents. She's bad news."

Domai frowned. "Oh dear." He turned to his assistance. "Alert the covert-ops center. She must be under constant surveillance."

Steiner gaped. "She's still here?"

Domai shrugged. "Why not? Sounds like the University Counterintelligence knows her face; so she changed target faction. We have a very low ratio of talents in our cities, so we haven't been that good targets up to now, I suppose. It will give us an opportunity to study the Consciousness and it's techniques, as I'm sure she'll try to find new subjects for merging." He smiled. "Your presence has already been beneficial, since we now know the danger she represents. You will be rewarded somehow." He nodded. "I think that concludes our business. If you have any further need to contact me, go to Jasonian. He's usually able to get a message through."

He stood up and shook hands with Steiner. Then he turned to Dorothy. "The family is important within the Free Drones, and we believe in defending it. So I hope you someday will be able to see your parents again with their minds freed from the Consciousness."

Dorothy nodded. "Thank you."

After Steiner and Dorothy had gone, Domai admired the view for a moment. Then he sighed, and signalled to his assitant. "All right. Show me the magnetic survey-chart of area fifteen again..."


****


Now see Rita Gamma-206 Koskinen sit down at a table in one of Free Drone Central's restaurants.

Few non-merged actually believed there was a Consciousness. They thought the Cyborgs were merely mind-controlled by individual algorithms. Some, like the Believers, thought the entire faction actually was quasi-religious, and that their praise of logic above emotions was the result of some obscure philosophy. But those, again like the Believers, usually had almost no regular contact with the Cyborgs.

Those who knew better generally let the topic lie; it was too unsettling to ponder deeply on the consequences such a Consciousness could have. They might sometimes stop and ask themselves; 'exactly what is the consciousness?' 'Is there really some entity or system governing Cybernetic society in general, and perhaps even influencing the actions of specific individuals?' Those few who continued still down the path of questions -usually people paid to think like this- found several new questions: 'Where, exactly, does it reside? What is it's speed of reaction? Since it, supposedly, consists of every merged individual of the Cyborgs, how does it think? The distances involved are extreme, after all. And what, exactly, is it's psychological profile?'

The Consciousness, of course, did exist. And not only as a metaphor, or even only Cybernetic. All humans knew of mass-psychology, and had expressions like 'the community', 'people could talk', or 'the voice of the crowd'. General opinion, in other words. Megatrends.

But the merged algorithms were what made the Cyborgs stand out from this crowd of crowds. Theoretically every algorithm was networked to every other algorithm, but practically this would be true only if every single member of the Consciousness was connected to a true network via MMI. The algorithmic parts of the merged individuals did communicate by other means, however. Simple face-to-face talking, or watching Cybernetic HV-programs, was enough. It was slow and didn't manage to relay data flawlessly, but it was enough to mimic the behaviour of two neurons in a mind. And these two 'neurons' were in contact with several others..

The fact that the Consciousness was strategically macchiavellian, but tactically pacifistic, had been deduced quickly. The Cyborgs had participated in numerous short-lived human/human vendettas with the Gaians and the University, and had occasionally lost a city or two as the borders shifted back and forth. The opposition found, to their surprise, that no merged individuals continued to resist when it was obvious one of their cities under siege was about to fall.

A simple explanation: Dead brains would not support the Consciousness. The short-term goal was, of course, to make the Cybernetic Consciousness the most powerful faction on Planet. But the main goal of the Consciousness was survival, and Cyborg society recognized the fact that there could be a day when an unmerged human would be the leader of all Cyborgs. The scenario was to be avoided at all costs, but even so.. it was possible. So, to minimize the damage caused by a conquered Consciousness, all merged Cyborgs usually surrendered when their city was conquered, and then worked on for the new administration as if nothing had happened.

Of course, the new administration seldom left them totally unmolested, but the University and the Gaians did generally respect the human rights -declaration. To decrease the mistrust, the Consciousness split in two, divided simply by the fact that there was a national border between the two halves (the conquered city and rest of the Consciousness). Most 'neural communication' of the Consciousness occurred face-to-face, during normal talk, so the boundary was effective as long as it was closed. And if the relations between the Cyborgs and the invading faction thawed, allowing people to travel, or if the city was recaptured, the two different Consciousnesses fused into one.

Having an algorithm with strange ideas about communication in your head gave secondary benefits as well. Rita opened the menu on a page at random, and looked over the top of it. She saw a man at another table do the same. Then the man's eyes started darting this way and that, apparently at random, but Rita's algorithm could translate:

"Message sixty-one from Armand: Subject Dorothy Parks presumed in University territory. Maintain standard intensity of talent -acquisition program. Use reserve assets to find data on location of Dorothy Parks. Message ends."

She responded. "Message to Armand: Message sixty-one received and understood. Message ends."

"Would you like to order now, madame?"

Rita glanced up at the waiter. "Yes, please; I'll have your marinated xenoannelids."

"And to drink?"

"Mineral water."

If there ever was any doubt that humans were unwelcome guests of this world then any attempt at eating the indigenous flora or fauna quickly did away with it. The biochemistries simply were too alien. Even when most of the alien proteins had been disintegrated by extreme amounts of cooking were there some chemical traces left that were unhealthy for humans to ingest, but an additional application of alcohol dissolved those effectively. The end product was edible, but not very pretty to look at, and connoisseurs regularly varied the recipe, or relaxed the guidelines for safe amounts of cooking, to find out what Planet really tasted like. Opinions were of course varied, with an end-product so removed from it's original state, and ranged from 'interesting' to 'nauseating'.

To Rita's mind it was nothing but nutrition. Her merged algorithm made sure it tasted good, since it would give plenty of the necessary ingredients of life in correct proportions. She did, however, note the excellently arranged fig-leaves on the plate, and the innovative positioning of parsley around the mound of purplish-gray goo that was the actual food. The cook knew his decorating, and had an eye for detail and order, even when his task was impossible.

She (literally) made a mental note to include him as a candidate for the talent-acquisition program. Then she summoned the waiter to pay her bill, pushed her chair back, stood up and exited the restaurant. The Free Drone agent following her every move had no idea something other than an ordinary meal had occurred.


End of chapter 31.

	17-01-2001 15:34									#33
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Chapter 32: The Road and The Guide


Dorothy studied the map with interest. "Why is it called that?"

Jim smiled. "It's a pun on names. It's actually the name for our route, and involves several different roads." He indicated a dotted line on the map. "It begins here, at Morgan Processing, and ends at Morgan Construction, close to the Data-Angel border. From those we get bricks, right? And the Morganite colour of choice is yellow. A yellow brick road."

Steiner looked approvingly at the map. "It passes by four cities, none of them that large, and keeps clear of Morgan Industries. Perfect. Only problem is, it follows the coast. Less dirctions to run in if we are detected."

Jim chuckled. "You forget who you're travelling with. I can enter most ports on Planet and find someone ready to help. Water is no barrier on this journey."

"I'm slightly stupid, right? Who are our travelling companions?"

"Eight promising probe-cadets led by a seasoned Data-Angel probe-operative. You won't know the cadets' real names, and they'll decide for themselves what they'd like to be called. It's both a silly tradition and a reasonable defense against the possibility of capture and interrogation. They'll 'earn' the right to use their real names once they've been on a handful of actual missions. And the Data-Angel's name; well, whatever he fancies at the moment."

The two weeks had gone by quickly. With most of the continent at war, the need for entertainment was at an all-time high, and downtown Free Drone Central looked like a collision between a fun-fair and a carnival. The contrast between worrying over the latest news from the fronts by day and seeking fun and laughter by night fitted well in with the rest of the contradictions in the Free Drones' nature.

And now the time to leave had come. Dorothy, Jim and Sebastian had travelled by mag-tube to Spanner Works early this morning, after an awkward farewell by Balbo and Laysa. Domai hadn't contacted them any further, but Jasonian had delivered his best wishes.

Right now they would meet the team and find out the details of the trip. Spanner Works was mainly a garrison-city, since it was as close to the morgan borders as possible. Morgan Processing was less than three hundred kilometers away. So far only small skirmishes involving recon units had erupted in the intervening terrain, as the two countries probed for an opening in each others' defenses, and so the route was as safe as possible, all things considered. But the Free Drones had prepared for eventual hostilities, and Spanner Works had a command center in it's garrison for better maintenance of it's forces. The three soon-to-be travellers stood in front of the center's five-storey surface structures. Jim could tell Dorothy that underground were sixty additional floors; high enough for vehicles of war to navigate and wide enough to house several hectares of simulated wilderness on one single floor.

Sebastian turned to Jim. "What next? Do we go in or what?"

Jim shook his head. "The officer who gave me this map said to wait outside. Someone will meet us."

Dorothy was uncertain. She had a nagging feeling something was wrong. Like, for instance, who was this man standing by her side? The stranger had approached several minutes ago and listened to the group's discussion with interest, yet neither Jim nor Sebastian seemed to notice. Dorothy hadn't really bothered about him much either, and it was beginning to worry her. Surely there was something odd about not minding a stranger intruding on a discussion? And he hadn't uttered a sound, only listened.

Dorothy found she had great trouble deciding what to do about him. She became annoyed, gathered her willpower and faced the man. The action was inexplicably draining, and she had to take some deep breaths before speaking. The man was watching her with an expression halfway between mirth and satisfaction.

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

Sebastian and Jim didn't look up from the map. The man quenched a half-formed grin and assumed a neutral expression. "Call me Merlin. Or, if you prefer my honorary name, the Wizard of Chiron."

"Merlin? That can't be your real name. Are you the Data-Angel we're supposed to meet?"

He nodded. A weight seemed to lift from Dorothy's thoughts, and she tugged on Jim's arm.

"Jim! This is Merlin; the Data-Angel!"

Jim glanced briefly at Dorothy and nodded. "Yes, that's good", he mumbled and returned to discussing the route with Sebastian. Dorothy gazed at him wide-eyed, while Merlin chuckled.

"A Data-Angel I am, and a probe-operative too, but look again at me, Dorothy! Do you see a single electronic gadget? Am I wearing a pocket computer? Do I have a sixty-channel commlink? No. So what am I?"

Dorothy shook her head in confusion. "I- I- maybe you left them in your room.."

Merlin sniffed and shook his head slightly. "Guess again." And let me give you a hint.

Dorothy's eyes widened. She was certain the last sentence had reached her mind without entering her ears. Merlin nodded slightly.

"I am a telepath. Not an empath, or a spiritual healer, or anything else, but a true psionicist. If there's a flaw in my skills it's my tendency to brag about them." He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry about the introduction, but I like to awe people. I've found it pays to do that."

Jim and Sebastian straightened up from the map, seemingly satisfied with whatever they had discussed. Dorothy tried tugging Jim's sleeve again. "Jim, this is Merlin. The Data-Angel."

Jim glanced down at Dorothy, and then gazed at Merlin. He seemed quite surprised. "I'm so sorry, I should've been paying attention to my surroundings. Nice to meet you.. uh, what did Dorothy say.. Merlin? As in the wizard?"

Merlin held out his hand. "Indeed. Of course, I'm interested in knowing exactly which one of the five hundred and sixteen different wizards named Merlin you are referring to."

Jim shook hands with him. "The one and only; fabled King Arthur's protector."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Really? Well, I chose the name while watching a bad holovid. That Merlin was another one altogether. But.. I've studied the name since, and the persons myth and Morgan Entertainment have presented with it. So, yes, nowadays it refers to aforementioned wizard of albion." He turned to Sebastian and held out his hand again. "Good day, lieutenant Steiner. How is life treating you?"

Sebastian flashed a brief smile. "With concrete baseball-bats at the moment. So.. the Angels have a psionics-program?"

"Well done, Lieutenant! What betrayed me? I know you didn't pay attention when I talked to Dorothy.."

"The University has it's own psionics-experiments, of course, and one thing we have learned is; few psionicists bother to clean up their subjects' memories. So you'll 'wake up' with a recollection of doing something really stupid.. Know yourself well enough, and you'll know you've been manipulated. But if I know you people well enough you probably stole your program off someone.."

"We didn't have to. The Gaians were kind enough to show us some of their best tricks.. In fact, I was one of the probe-operatives to receive tutelage. Anyway, they've had several opportunities to regret it since. But, lady and gentlemen, shall we proceed?"

He led them to a door into the command center. Once past the standard trio of security-stations the ground floor adapted the atmosphere of a corporate office, except for all the military uniforms. Merlin led them to an elevator and bade them enter. There was only one button inside the elevator, and it flashed briefly green as he pressed it. Jim shook his head.

"This elevator takes you to only one floor?"

"Only one, yes, but any one nevertheless. It takes me only to the floor I am authorized to visit; anyone else using this elevator would go to another floor or to the detention cells, depending on their clearance or lack of it. I don't see the point of it myself."

"Surely it makes life difficult for anyone trying to break into another floor? I suppose there's no other way but the elevators?"

Merlin shrugged. "There's no other way you or I could reach, but for a telekinetic it's as difficult to pass as cobweb. Yes, I hear you say, you'd have to be some freak to unlock the doors since even lifting a coffee-mug is a challenge. But hey, I can push around any number of electrons. And that's all it takes in this day and age. You must understand, the Free Drones haven't studied psionics. They think it's not worth the effort." He grinned. "We made them believe that."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed, and he smiled slightly. "I haven't met a faction before that hugs you and stabs you in the back at the same time."

Jim nudged him. "I've met them, and they think it's your own fault if you didn't prepare for the possibility of the dagger. Beware the ides of march, you know."

Sebastian nodded. The elevator slowed down and bumped to a halt, and the doors opened. Beyond it was a hybrid of a military parking lot and goods-storage. There were actual shelves, among the piles of crates and heaps of barrels, containing readily assembled combat vehicles; the room was high enough to allow stacks four vehicles high. One of the first things Dorothy saw was the roof-mounted rails; a powerful-looking crane was slowly inching its way along them, with an armored truck swinging at the end of it's chain.

A lieutenant was standing right outside the elevator doors. He nodded at Merlin and glanced briefly at Sebastian, Jim and Dorothy while comparing entries on a notepad to a pile of miscellaneous equipment on a table.

"You three! You're the hangers-on of the probe-team, right? Then this is your equipment minus your stealth-suits. I'll recite this list and you'll pack the items I mention into these two bags. The girl will carry whatever she can. Once everything's packed I'll take you to the fitting station, where you'll get your suits and helmets." He waited until Jim and Sebastian both had grabbed a bag and were waiting by the pile of equipment. Then he started shouting out the entries on his list, checking them off one last time as the corresponding items were packed.

Merlin watched, slightly amused, as the bags were packed. Then he glanced at Dorothy. Do you know what a stealth-suit is? Dorothy's forehead furrowed as she lined up her answer in her head, and Merlin smiled. [/I]Good first try at passive telepathic communication. I'll teach you how to do it properly if we've got time during the trip. But for now, just nod or shake your head. Don't bother with explaining; I'll find out what you mean if I'm unsure.[/I]

Dorothy gave a short nod and then shook her head vigorously. Merlin nodded. That's good. Well, you've seen some spy-holos haven't you? The probe-operative puts on an extra shirt and tights, and voila! He's invisible to every sensor and radar there is. Yes? Well, the truth is a lot less effective and several orders of magnitude more bulky. Put on more equipment than an ice-hockey goalie and you might not show up on their radar this time. It's not a very dependable piece of clothing, but a probe-team needs all the equipment it can get. Now, that was the indoor -version. What we will wear is the outdoor version, with integrated nitrogen-filters and weather insulation.

Dorothy was surprised to hear his telepathic sigh. With that description you'll get a basic idea why it's a good idea to make sure the suit fits. You wouldn't be able to move otherwise. Another sigh echoed through Dorothy's head. Another untruth is how you use the suit. Since the suit's radar- and IR-stealth is unreliable you'd be a fool to stroll right past the radar-dish or camera. You're much safer at the outer edge of the surveillance-equipment's field of view. That's why the suit has several passive IR- and radar sensors, further increasing it's bulk. And, of course, it assumes the same approximate colour and pattern as the nearest surface, in order to fool visual inspection.

Merlin turned to watch Jim and Sebastian for a while. They were busy inspecting an atmospheric tent for any damage. He turned back to Dorothy as the lieutenant shouted out the next item on the list, a miniature atmosphere purifier. I have a Data-Angel stealth-suit. It's less bulky than the Free Drone version you'll receive, but it is still a pain to wear. Also, I can monitor the sensors' output and control the suit's functions with telepathic commands; I don't need an MMI or, planet forbid, manual controls to do that. You, however, will have to learn manual contro-

Dorothy frowned and shook her head. Merlin was silent for some time. You have an MMI? Lucky for you. The adapter won't be a problem. Anyway, the actual travelling will happen using a rover with atmospheric sealing. But we'll still wear our suits inside it, in case of an emergency.

The lieutenant lowered his notepad and nodded. "All right, that's your equipment packed. Follow me, and we'll get you some stealth-suits.

An hour later Dorothy walked back and forth a bit to get the feel of her stealth-suit and test it's functions. It was heavy and clumsy, no doubt about that, and when she tried on the helmet she found it severely restricted her field of vision and blocked out most external sounds. An internal headset with microphone allowed communication with the rest of the team, and Dorothy could also use her MMI for this.

Sebastian and Jim had both worn stealth-suits before. They spent a little time exploring the variations of these suits to the ones they were used to, and once they felt comfortable they watched Dorothy and gave her some advice on how to conserve energy while wearing the suit.

Merlin, who was also watching her, nodded with satisfaction. "One advantage you do have over us adults is your size; it presents a significantly smaller profile to any scanners, thus increasing your odds of staying undetected. Well, if you're all ready now, I think it's time to meet the rest of the team and get going." He smiled. "The team doesn't know yet that you are coming along. It will be a test of how they quickly adapt to a new situation."

He led them back to the elevator. Dorothy had expected to return to the surface, and the elevator indeed climbed higher, but it stopped while yet underground and the doors opened onto a cavernous garage. Row upon row of different vehicles could be seen, with an occasional mechanic in between. Virtually every variation of the rover used for warfare was represented, usually in both tracked and wheeled versions and some also with amphibious capability. The garage was huge- Dorothy could see a pair of armored terraformers, ten meters high, and they barely reached halfway to the ceiling.

They walked among the various vehicles, the purpose of some obvious while others were only with difficulty linked in any way to warfare, until they reached two large transport rovers; squat, wide vehicles with eight large wheels. Eight men and women clad in stealth-suits were inspecting the rovers. They looked up as Merlin called out a greeting and approached.

"Cadets, I'd like you to meet Dorothy Parks, Lieutenant Sebastian Steiner and Jim Sturlasson alias Seven-Seas-Jimmy." Merlin nodded at each person as he presented them. "And these are my current charges; may I present Static, whose expertise is communications and navigating, Sparky, electronics and optics, Data, programming and electronic warfare, Biff, weapons and equipment, Grinder, mechanics and vehicles, Mercury, demolition and sniping, Sister, medicine and surgery and finally Hatchet, the tactician and their future boss."

A general shaking of hands plus some small-talk took place until Merlin bade them to listen. "Cadets, these three will be joining us, and you are ordered to provide reasonable assistance and protection to them during the journey. Since both lieutenant Steiner and Jim are veterans of previous probe-teams they should be able to look after themselves, so the main concern will be Dorothy. She's very smart and will learn quickly, however. Now, there's twelve of us and the rovers take eight people each. Hatchet, assign us to the vehicles."

The probe-trainees were still digesting the fact that they had additional companions, but Hatchet, a short, dark man in his twenties, visibly pushed his musings aside and nodded at Merlin. "Sparky, Data, Biff, Grinder, Mercury and Sister, you take one rover. Grinder will drive and Data will man the radio. I will drive the second rover and Static will operate it's comm-links. Merlin, Sebastian, Jim and Dorothy; you will also travel in the second rover."

"Good. Let's go."


Soon the two rovers drive to a vehicle elevator big enough to lift both to the surface at the same time. A large trapdoor opens up above them, and the vehicles emerge in the light of Planet's afternoon. After some final checks they dwindle to mere clouds of dust racing towards the horizon.


End of chapter 32.

	17-01-2001 15:37									#34
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Chapter 33: Losing hope.


See the burning remains of Morgan Entertainment.

"Are those the last ones?"

"They are the last ones we'll be able to send, sir."

Eternal Spark inspected the train of refugees with a somber mood. "This is my city. I've worked for several years to bring it to the Free Drones, and the position of mayor was my reward." He turned around and let his gaze wander over the monitors showing live images from the aerial cameras. A seemingly endless stream of Cybernetic troops was pouring into the ruined perimeter of the city. "And now these powergrabbers are seizing it." He let out a sigh. His aide needed no explanation to understand how he felt.

"Maybe you'll be back one day, sir."

"Look at the monitors, Planet be damned! What's left to return to?"

"There's still a population of two thousand here. The city will survive."

"A city will survive. Whatever it will be, it won't be Morgan Entertainment anymore."

A drawn-out boom and the sound of shifting rubble with sporadic cracks from nearby buildings reminded Spark that he was not out of harm's way. He stretched and turned away from the monitors. "We're leaving. Tell those who still can to detach from the fighting and retreat as fast as possible."

The aide nodded and hurried away. Spark signalled a couple of soldiers who started packing the monitors and recall the spyplanes. He walked over to his rover, and as he approached he heard the beeping from the comm-link. He entered quickly, sealed the cockpit and removed his breather. Then he opened the comm-link and saw Jasonian looking back at him from the monitor.

"Hello, Spark. Damn bad luck with Morgan Entertainment, but that's how things can go. Anyway, you aren't the only one retreating at the moment. We've got word that the University has lost four cities since the war started, and they are trying to build some new ones as far away from the cyborgs as possible; out in their archipelago. Of course, that puts them in the line of fire from the Pirates. And we're not far behind; five of our cities are under siege by either Morganite or Cyborg forces, and I want you and your troops to reinforce the closest one; Liberty Plant."

Spark nodded and started the rover, his own troubles now in the past. "My ETA will be two days. Will they survive that long?"

"Sure. They're besieged by Morganite forces, and there's no sign of an attempt to finish the siege yet."

"That's odd. You'd expect the Cyborgs to tell them to strike while the odds are reasonable."

"Indeed. I can't tell you details, but we've observed several occasions where the Consciousness has withheld critical information from both the Gaians and the Morganites."

Spark's mood brightened. "Is their alliance falling apart, maybe?"

"Hardly. The Consciousness is really making an effort to keep both the Gaians and the Morganites happy in each others' company. We've detected no sign of any discontent."

"Then what's the point? They're hurting their own war-effort."

"We don't know yet. We'll find out when it hits us, I suppose."

Spark grimaced slightly while steering the Rover around a pile of rubble. "I've taken enouth hits already, thank you very much."

"I know what you mean. Well, I wish you luck."

"Ditto." Spark closed the comm-link.


***


See the calm interior of a gaming hall at Alpha Prime.

Alert. Approaching entity recognized as Vasily Beta-9. This might be the opportunity you need, Lewis. Remember not to let your emotions show.

Thank you, I've argued with enough idiots over some insignificant detail or other in some new theory of mine to become good at that, Lewis thought. He was studying a game of chess, played by two merged talents, in order to improve his own game. Lewis was officially a member of the Consciousness now, and his type of genius was easily boosted by the Algorithm, so he had to work hard to keep up the illusion. While Kappa-44 could give some good advice, the algorithm was of far less help than a true merged one.

Lewis made no move to show he had noticed Vasily until the man stopped in front of him. Then Lewis looked up at him with a blank expression. "Vasily Beta-9. Alias Beta. Why do you approach me?"

Beta gave Lewis a searching look. "Your merger was unlikely. I am curious as to how it was done."

"I was tricked. The Consciousness is a master of intrigue, and my independent intellect was no match in the end." Your performance is satisfactory so far, Kappa told him.

"Really? Yet it falls short of my own skills, and not because I would have more calculating power, but because I see more options at every moment a choice has to be made." He grinned. "And don't argue that the Consciousness sees every logical choice, because it isn't true. I have studied the matter intensely."

"How is it lacking?"

"In imagination. It always plays safe! That's no road to success, since there's some brilliant risk-takers out there, at the head of the other factions, who can reap much bigger rewards from every opportunity with an action that would defy common logic. Fundamentally, it's the Consciousness' urge to survive that prohibits the taking of unnecessary risks, but I am convinced it will be it's undoing in the long run."

Are you getting all this? Lewis wondered. Vasily Beta-9 is displaying seriously aberrant behaviour, but it is not yet enough to warrant action. You must gather more data.

"Why do you tell me this? I am part of the Consciousness, as are you. It is the ultimate dictator of our actions, and we cannot digress from it's goals."

"You are wrong. I am not chained by the Consciousness; I am offering to free you from it's influence. Let's build a new Cybernetic order; one that doesn't shirk any opportunity." Beta straightened up and swept his right arm in a wide arc. "All this could be put to so much more efficient use, if only someone with the right prerequisites would assume control. And that person is me. I am the future, Lewis Kappa-44, and I am offering you a part in it since I know you are very talented and have some revolutionizing ideas. I could even give you my greatest gift; teach you how to expand your own mind to incorporate other bodies. The initial process is very difficult, but in the end all efforts are extremely rewarding."

He looked down at Lewis again. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. But hurry nevertheless, for I shall seize command over the Cybernetic Consciousness momentarily and will not tolerate hesitation. And remember- try to warn anyone and your life will be forfeit."

How about now, Lewis thought. Yes. That is more than enough; the Consciousness will be satisfied. try to dismiss him quickly.

"I am not convinced yet. I know you have the capacity to lie, and I will not even attempt to discern your possible motives. I will, as you would say, play it safe. You will have my answer once it is clear to me."

The beginnings of a smile twitched for an instant on Beta's face, but his eyes remained cold. "How disappointing. But my offer still stands, should you be able to break your mould and leap to a favourable conclusion. Until then."

Beta turned around abruptly and walked away. You should hurry to contact Bearcat Omega-seven, Kappa-44 told him. Not yet, Lewis thought. Let's wait until Beta is out of sight. Why would he look back? Because wasting no time to stop him is very logical.

Beta turned his head and glanced back at Lewis over his shoulder, causing Lewis to grin inwardly. See? Yes. But you have only proved he is a very talented schemer. You cannot claim to be able to tell what conclusions he will draw from your actions. An educated guess will suffice.

He let his gaze wander over the game-hall.

Do you see any other Beta-entities, Kappa? No. There are no Beta-entities in this room that I can identify. Well, I'm not taking any chances. Let's wait some more and then take a detour to central admin.

Ten minutes later one of the players gave up (but Lewis couldn't see why), and a new game was started. Lewis walked away to the nearest public comm-link and called Bearcat Omega-Seven.

"Bearcat, I am ready."

A short moment of silence followed. "Meet me at the entrance to central admin."

Lewis found the nearest intra-rail station, and the trip to central admin was short. Bearcat was waiting at the rail-station. "Have you witnessed enough to convince Kappa-44?"

"That's what it says."

Bearcat was silent for some time. "Such a scenario as this is unusual."

Lewis' brow furrowed. "That's your way of saying you're concerned?"

More silence. "That is a satisfactory approximation. Yes, you could say I am 'concerned'. To be exact, the likelyhood of these events was considered so infitesimal that any detailed planning of contingencies was considered a waste of resources until abundant processing power would become available. But as the Consciousness expanded and research accelerated, we have always had too little."

"So now you're reduced to making up plans as you go along, eh? That must be stressful..."

Bearcat didn't bother to answer, instead walking down the tunnel to the thirteenth core. Lewis followed him, whistling softly.

"Lewis, you are uncharacteristically relaxed today. What is the matter?"

"Well, a thought struck me as I was travelling here." He whistled another short tune.

"And the thought is.." Being merged tended to increase people's patience.

"What? Oh, yes. Is there anything at all preventing this Beta from assimilating persons and algorithms from other classes? Say, Kappa- or Omega-algorithms?"

Bearcat stopped. "I see where your line of thought leads."

"Right. So who's to say that, even though the thirteenth core won't have any Beta-algorithms present right now, any of those bigwigs aren't really another incantation of Beta?"

"Their behavioural patterns change."

"That's no certain indicator. I managed to fool Beta into believing I had been merged -I think- and you people, including Beta, are much better at acting than I. You don't get nervous."

"Then; Beta seemingly believes you are truly merged."

"So maybe he hadn't expanded outside the betas yet, back then. Anyway, I get the feeling your government usually doesn't engage in careless small-talk. So Beta wouldn't have found out in the interim. No; there's a real possibility that he/she/it has infiltrated the inner circle."

Bearcat was silent. "Then we have reached a cul-de-sac. We must warn the inner circle, and there's a very high probability that Beta will find out." More silence. "Let's return to the entrance. I intend to summon all the military forces and probe-teams I can muster. Based on Beta's estimated total influence it won't be enough to keep the inner circle safe, but it might give us time to.. evacuate. That this very action might alert Beta is a risk I am authorized to take."

Lewis followed Bearcat silently back to the mouth of the tunnel, brooding over his words. Bearcat probably had a much more exact general picture of how influential Beta was, and the rogue algorithm would have to be mighty indeed to cause Bearcat to plan for evacuation of the inner circle. Lewis' worries over his immediate future were disrupted as Bearcat grabbed his shoulder.

"Are you ready? I cannot guarantee your safety once we inform the inner circle, as my first priority will be to protect them. Stay close to me and watch my back in case the situation turns threatening."

Lewis nodded, and they walked back into the tunnel.


End of chapter 33.

	17-01-2001 15:39									#35
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Chapter 34: Systems Breakdown


The thirteenth door opens, and two figures emerge. They walk up to the balustrade circling the open middle of the chamber and stop, taking a moment to investigate the room and it's silent occupants. Then they proceed onto the bridge leading to the middle sphere, with it's circle or chairs facing outwards. A figure rises from one of the chairs and pulls out a weapon.

The two men have scant time to evade, and both lunge in opposite directions; the beam of energy scorches them both as it passes by.

The entire room fills with noise as several warning-klaxons start keening, and suddenly every person sitting in the rings of chairs around the central computer, on every floor, stirs and rises. There is considerable confusion in their behaviour, but not as much as one might expect. It disappears quickly, and every face in the room is turned towards the woman holding the firearm.

She lowers the laser-rifle somewhat and presses a button on a comm-link hanging from her waist.

Lewis pulls himself upright with the help of the balustrade while he gingerly probes his back, where his clothing has melted and stuck to his skin. He opens his mouth to speak, and the woman's gun is again pointing directly at him. He fancies a faint reflection from the focusing lens he knows is located deep within the barrel.

A white streak of energy enters Lewis' field of vision and impacts into the side of the laser rifle, splitting it. Bearcat Omega-Seven rises up from his kneeling position while holstering his own impact pistol. The woman is grabbed by several other members of the inner circle. Lewis lets out a long, painful sigh and finds Aki-Zeta Five with his gaze. He smiles mirthlessly.

"All I had to do was show up, and you have all the evidence you could ask for. I suppose hearing out Kappa-44 would be slightly unnecessary after this."

"On the contrary, doctor Parks. It is even more vital, and must be done quickly. And I suppose you want to re-establish total control over your MMI."

Lewis nods and sits down in one of the chairs. Even though the connection is less technically advanced than the University's it has a staggering data-transfer rate, and Kappa-44 disappears from Lewis' MMI in a mere fifteen seconds. When he rises again the klaxons have stopped, but several fainter, but no less urgent-sounding, signals can be heard.

"What's going on?"

A man by Aki Zeta-Five's side speaks. "Those signals mean several things. Several mean there's a significant gathering of military forces in various parts of the city. Others mean there's some kind of major emergency occurring somewhere within Free Drone territory. And the most urgent one means the Mainframe is being infiltrated." Lewis faintly recognizes him from his previous visit to central admin.

Bearcat stirs. "Circle-members, I have prepared for evacuation. But you must decide."

Aki Zeta-Five turns to the captive woman. "Tanya Kolmonitov Ypsilon-Seven. Or should I call you Beta? Explain yourself."

The woman puts on a dark grin. "I am Beta, soon to be Omega. I will be the end of the Consciousness and the beginning of the True Consciousness. I have judged the inner circle and found it wanting; inefficient. You will be replaced and re-merged." Beta takes a deep breath. "Resistance is futile."

Lewis sneers at her. "Pull one of the other clichés, that one's got bells on."

Aki nods at Bearcat. He aims his gun at Beta/Tanya and fires. Aki is silent for a moment before she again looks at Bearcat.

"You are in charge of the evacuation, Bearcat. Speed is of essence, and all citizens of the Consciousness must be considered potential enemies."

Bearcat nods. "Follow me. Lewis, stay close." He runs quickly through the tunnel, and stops before the outermost door. "Everybody stay back. I have summoned some troops, and they should be on the other side of this door, but I do not know if they are trustworthy." He opens the door and takes a quick peek out. Then he lowers his weapon and walks through the doorway, followed by a puzzled Lewis and the inner circle -members.

Lewis doesn't have to wonder for long, however, once he sees the assembled troops. They are literally lounging around the intra-rail station, any sign of military discipline completely absent except for their similar clothing (black) and weaponry (all small and heavy arms from the chaos family).

"What kind of forces are these?"

"Special forces. It's a combat unit accepting only unmerged soldiers. The Consciousness recognizes that our merging with cybernetics might become disadvantageous, due to EMP-guns and harmonic interference -technologies, so this military unit has been created to operate in an environment where standard electronics and optics have become unreliable. They take orders only from the inner circle and it's agents. They have a modicum of empathic skill, enabling them to sense people with hostile intent."

The soldiers come to approximate attention, and a man with captain's markings approaches bearcat and salutes. "Sir, Fourth Dark Company ready for orders sir."

Bearcat returns the salute. "Good. Escort us out of Alpha Prime. All military units are presumed hostile until empathic scan proves the opposite. And contact the other Dark Companies; tell them to execute scenario 'malignance' and join us ASAP."

The entire group moves swiftly, the soldiers bolting back and forth to secure every opening and intersection while they descend towards ground level. Occasionally Lewis hears the thunder of discharging chaos-weaponry, and then as he passes some intersection he detects a faint scent of something burning. Sometimes there's a crater in some wall, but never any bodies.

A clear, seemingly ambient, bell-like sound rings in the air. Some of the members of the inner circle lift their heads as they walk, straining to hear. Then an androgenous voice can be heard: "This is Central Admin. A special recalibration of the Consciousness has been initiated; all merged citizens report to the nearest upgrade station. Inefficient behaviour will be corrected."

Lewis hurries forward until he is next to Bearcat. "What was that all about?"

"It appears Beta has already managed to take control of the Mainframe, and has re-staffed the seats of the inner circle. In order to complete the takeover of Alpha Prime he needs the backing of the merged citizens, especially the military. And to avoid having to force them he will attempt to reprogram their algorithms to accept him as their leader. The change is quick, and most citizens will obey swiftly, so from here on the level of resistance will increase steeply. However, the controls of Alpha Prime's infrastructure, like transport and power, are protected by security-systems and codes, and this will give us time to escape before Beta has access to our full military power. And to further slow him down I have ordered the Dark Companies to destroy Alpha Prime's satellite dishes, cutting contact with the rest of the Cybernetic Consciousness for some time."

"All right, but what about the military forces bound to be under his control already?"

Bearcat's answer is lost in the sound of gunfire.


End of chapter 34.

	17-01-2001 15:40									#36
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Chapter 35: On the Yellow Brick Road


Dorothy's view on her situation was quite multifaceted. There were the terrible moments when she had nearly been captured by the Cyborgs. There were all these new people and places she was getting to know. There was, above everything else, the longing for her parents. And, at the core of her being, a new and quickly growing part of her mind that reacted to all of this.

It did not go unnoticed.

"She's hardening", Jim commented to Sebastian as they rested inside the rovers after the second terran day of their travel. They had passed the border into Morgan territory without incident, and were now circling around Morgan Processing. "Her eyes have lost that bright expression. She looks much more weary now. She looks like, I hope you know the expression, an old soul."

Steiner was eating some soup, but he nodded and his movements slowed down as his line of thought switched to the unpleasant subject. He gulped down a spoonful of the orange liquid and glanced at Dorothy. She was in the drivers' cabin, talking to Hatchet. "Bound to happen eventually, right? I mean, her parents are alive, aren't they? She can't write them off in her mind as lost, and yet she can't go to them. We won't let her."

"That's unfair. You make it sound like it's our fault they're separated."

"Yes, but you know what I mean. We can't give her to the enemy. We must try to extract her parents, but that could take years."

"Yes. So what are you going to do? I know you're trained to guard her from bullets, bombs and kidnappings, but can you protect her from despair?"


In the cabin, Hatchet pointed at a gauge. "That's the cabin air-pressure monitor. It's in percentages, one hundred percent meaning equal pressure to the outer atmosphere. For safety reasons, it should never be lower than a hundred and five."

Dorothy nodded. "The higher pressure keeps the outer atmosphere of Planet from entering the rover through any holes in the hull."

"Very good. Now that I've shown you all the equipment, what do you want to do?"

"Could I drive the rover?"

Hatchet nodded. "Once I've made sure you know what you're doing, and that you paid attention when I taught you about the various instruments. If you know them, then you'll get to drive the rover as soon as we start again." He pointed to a row of flashing buttons in the roof of the cabin. "What do these do?" Dorothy concentrated.


****


Five hours later the two rovers started moving again. As they accelerated to a steady thirty kilometers per hour the second rover weaved back and forth as Dorothy attempted to keep a constant distance to the lead rover, but she learned quickly. Once they had reached their cruise velocity, possible in this quite flat region, Hatchet could relieve some of Static's work by watching the perimeter-sensors, only occasionally checking on how Dorothy was doing.

This enabled him to spot the warning signs long before Static alone would have. What he was watching was a colour-coded map that showed input of disturbances from every sensor the rover had, plus several of the sensors mounted on the lead rover, painted over a wireframe representation of the surrounding terrain. Each sensor's output had it's own distinct colour, and a human would have been portrayed as a rainbow-hued smudge as the various sensors scanned the intruder. As a rule of thumb, monochrome signals could be safely ignored unless they were intense, while three colours or more in a 'smudge' should be avoided or investigated.

Of course, it was possible to identify an object by the 'spectrum' it produced, if you were trained for it. Thus, when Hatchet saw a swarm of small blue dots (indicating they had been registered by the motion scanner and nothing else) enter the screen in front and to the left of the lead rover, he knew what it was. He quickly entered the steering cabin and told Dorothy to move to the passenger's seat.

"We have incoming mindworms. Merlin, can you hide us?"

"We've already been detected", Merlin called back, his voice slightly strained. "I'm keeping them out right now, but I'd floor it if I were you."

Hatchet didn't need to be told twice. The rover accelerated and turned to the right. The lead rover was doing the same, but it turned more, eventually positioning it on the other side of Hatchet's rover. It assumed a position to the right and slightly ahead, and accelerated further. Hatchet strained to keep up the same pace.

"Grinder, ease up on the gas a bit or you'll hit a stone!"

Grinder replied with a grunt, but merlin glanced up briefly, with droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. "No, no. Faster. Faster!" Hatchet turned around briefly to look at him, and then pressed his throttle as far down as it went. He clearly wasn't pleased.

Then Dorothy was aware of a growing feeling. It was hard to describe, but she became clearly aware of Merlin in the cargo-area of the rover, even though she was looking out of the front window. Puzzled, she turned around and looked at the probe-operative.

She gasped. He seemed to be surrounded by a slight bluish haze, reminiscent of the texture of a monochromatic soap-bubble. He was grimacing, and his hands were clenching and unclenching as if he was enduring a great deal of pain. Jim was watching him with his mouth open.

"Jim, what's happening to him?!"

"He's holding the 'fluence of the mindworms at bay. We'd all be crawling around on the floor, looking for our brains, if he wasn't here to keep them checked. But they must be amazingly strong, 'cause he's giving everything he's got and there's visible pyrokinetic residue forming! And.. yess.. they're beginning to get through.. " He clutched his head.

Dorothy watched, mesmerized by the shifting haze, and wondered what she should be looking for. Then she felt it. Looking at Merlin was beginning to make her eyes sting. So she turned away and blinked furiously. Now it felt as though she had eyes in her neck, and they were beginning to water.

Then the feeling changed. The eyes weren't in her neck anymore, and they weren't hers. She felt sure that, should she turn around, she'd see several pairs of disembodied eyes staring at her with hate and malignance. The feeling was getting stronger, and her neck started to prickle as if a crowd of people was critically inspecting it. She heard Merlin whisper hoarsely.

"Gooo.. plleeasse; gooo.. faaster.."

But these rovers weren't built for speed. Speed as a subject didn't show up much in any manual on how to stay undetected. Hatchet was blinking furiously, trying to dispel the green and purple dots in his vision, caused by the telepathic attack stunning his synapses one by one. It was hard to steer since his entire body felt like it had gone to sleep. He was gasping for air, yet felt out of breath. Behind him, in the cargo-hold, Merlin groaned and slumped on the floor. Static rose to assist him, and fell on top of him without a sound.

Hatchet saw how the lead rover was slowing down and tried to contact Grinder via the commlink, but as soon as he opened his mouth his consciousness imploded. He fell forward onto the steering wheel, sending the rover into a skid. Dorothy tried to shove him back into the driver's seat, but the centrifugal force was holding her back. The rover bounced and lurched wildly, and then stopped with a grinding noise. Hatchet's foot slid off the throttle, and the wheels stopped skidding.

Jim and Sebastian rose simultaneously, and Dorothy saw out of the corner of her eye how the psychic attack sent them into unconsciousness. They fell against each other, and piled up on the floor next to Merlin and Static.

Dorothy froze. If I move, they'll sense me. She didn't have asolute proof, but everything seemed to indicate this. She could feel all those mind's eyes, looking for a target. She felt their senses were far more powerful than any sensor the rovers had.

With reptile sluggishness, she swivelled her eyes to look out of the side window. The lead rover was fifty meters away, stuck in a patch of xenofungus. She saw how mindworms emerged from the patch and tried to climb onto it. She had imagined they would be slow and clumsy creatures, but they seemed to have all the energy of fireworks; their movements were short bursts of speed as they lunged forward, or upward as they tried to scale the vehicle. They seemed to be succeeding, for one managed to slither and leap onto the hood. It proceeded to peck at the windshield with it's beak.

Then one appeared on the front window of Dorothy's rover. She jumped and let out a short scream, regretting it even before she'd stopped. She had a sensation like- well, a pilot of a hangglider would have the same feeling if he saw every anti-air weapon of a military base being aimed at him, and heard the distant blaring of sirens.

There was a moment of time stretched out, as if a huge potential of energy was about to reach a critical mass..

And then a feeling of hesitation. The mindworm slithered down from the window, and there was a clonk as the outer door in the rear, leading to the small airlock, opened and shut again. The air of the cabin felt like an impending thunderstorm, and Dorothy suddenly felt very drowsy. There was the whirr of the airlock's fans and filters. Dorothy's head slumped against the back of the driver's seat. There was a hiss as the inner door was unsealed, making it possible to open. Dorothy was asleep.

The door opened.


End of chapter 35.

	18-01-2001 23:26									#37
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Chapter 36: Exit


The din in Alpha Prime was unbelievable. Somehow, every single citizen seemed to have got hold of some firearms, and possibly a fragmentation grenade or two.

And they were fighting each other. Lewis couldn't understand how they kept track of friends and foes, but somehow they knew. Those ready to choose Beta as their leader were fighting those who did not think he was the logical choice. It was a nasty fight, and not only because of it's fury, but because the participants were rigorously logical. If you shouted a convincing enough proof to support your opinion, the opponent could switch sides. A philosophical civil war was raging, and a cunning argument could be more effective than any gun.

The fact that the Inner Circle was fleeing was being trumpeted out from every loud-speaker. The resistance shouted back with megaphones, detailing what Beta did to people whose intellects were surplus to (or failed to meet) requirements.

Lewis, Bearcat and four soldiers from the Dark Company had got separated from the rest of the group. Forces loyal to Beta had quickly driven them further apart, so rejoining the Inner Circle seemed unlikely. They were, as far as Lewis could tell, fleeing aimlessly towards the outskirts of the capital.

Although the noise showed no signs of weakening with distance, the fighting clearly took place in the central parts of the city; all the people had flocked to them as they were tactically vital. And, of course, many were trying to help or hinder the flight of the Inner Circle. This meant that the streets Lewis and Bearcat were using were almost deserted, and the occasional Cyborg citizen they met was more interested in going somewhere than challenging strangers. Just in case, Lewis had been assigned a laser pistol by one of the soldiers.

Eventually Lewis could see where they were heading. One of the main exits, with associated vehicle- and goods-terminal, was straight ahead. This wasn't the largest one, as there were no mag-tube tracks through this one, but the main airlock was still gargantuan. The four-storey depots were dwarfed in comparison. The lighs here near the edge of the city were white beams in the darkness, lighting up myriads of dust-particles in a slow aerial dance. They failed to illuminate the surrounding buildings and the small group of people hiding in their shadows, which was why neither Lewis, bearcat nor the soldiers saw them until they were but a few meters apart.

The other group consisted of four guards, four soldiers and Jessica. Both groups froze, and there was a general pointing of weapons. Lewis felt the muscles in his chins tighten, and his mind began to draw up possible scenarios while he watched and waited.

Bearcat nodded at a guard. "We will take a vehicle of our liking and exit Alpha Prime. Attempting to stop us is detrimental to your vitality."

The guard nodded back. "You will not. You will put down your weapons and wait for transportation to nearest upgrade- and merging center. We are authorized to use force if you do not obey. First you will lower your weapons."

The words triggered Lewis' brain. His mind held up a cue-card and the associated script. He took a deep breath. "Our friends on your flanks beg to differ." He watched this sink in. He was already squeezing the trigger as two soldiers and two guards, including the one who had spoken, turned to peer into the shadows. The laser-beam hit the throat of one of the soldiers who hadn't turned. Five other damp explosions of gore marked the hits of the Dark Company -soldiers, as they had been quick to understand Lewis' trick. The soldiers and guards who hadn't reacted fell to the ground.

Then there were only three guards and Jessica left. They lowered their weapons.

"Oldest trick on the cave wall, and you brainiacs fell for it. Do your algorithms impair your ability to detect bluffs?", Lewis sneered. "You, Jessica, will come with us. I'm itching to try out some hi-tech exorcism."

"And if I refuse?"

"Is having your head detonated a productive scenario?"


***


A short moment later an amphibious rover leaves Alpha Prime and headed for University territory. Inside, Lewis listened to the traffic on the comm-links.

To all citizens of the Consciousness; Our former leader, Aki Zeta-Five has surrendered before the superior strategies of Niels Beta-Sixteen. The Cybernetic Consciousness is whole again, under the efficient leadership of Beta-Sixteen. Alpha Prime has returned to normal operation. Those merged citizens who still haven't visited the upgrade-stations are required to do so.

"Lewis, I want to exit the rover. Please stop."

Lewis casts a quick glance at the rear-view mirror and meets Bearcat Omega-Seven's steady gaze. He eases up the throttle. "Where are you going?"

Bearcat hesitates for a moment. "At this point there is too little to go on for me to have a definite answer. But I know I need to stay within Cybernetic territory."

Lewis stares at him while chewing nervously on the mouthpiece of his breather. "You intend to fight him on his home turf? Are all merged individuals insane?"

"I have certain values I hold in high regard, Lewis, and Beta has none of them. One is called 'honor'."

"You mean you're going to walk up to his office -or whatever- and demand a showdown, good old western style? And expect not to be unceremoniously shot then and there?"

Bearcat shakes his head. "He wouldn't obey the laws of honor. I will save them for my comrades in arms. There is bound to be others like me, and our number will increase as Beta attempts to restore control over the other bases. We will preserve Aki's ideals by establishing a consciousness that follows, as much as possible, her plans as I know them."

Lewis stared at him in silence. "Easier said than done!" He spat.

Bearcat glances at Jessica, who is seemingly asleep. "I am sorry I cannot return to assist in restoring your wife, Lewis. But I wouldn't be of much help anyway. The only one who can authorize a cancellation of a completed merger is Aki Zeta-Five, and to secure that, she withholds some knowledge about the process from everybody else. Don't you see, that I need to return to make sure she stays alive? That way I can assist you."

Lewis glances at Jessica calms down. "All right. Though I'm quite confident in the research-capabilities of the University. You'll see; Jessica will be her self again!"

Bearcat nods. "Optimism is one of the least deplorable emotions. I wish you luck. And.. can we rely on University support, should I succeed in finding others willing to fight for my cause?"

Lewis nods. "Of course."

"Then I will leave. Goodbye." Bearcat Omega-Seven exits the rover, slams the door shut behind him and jogs away at a steady pace. Lewis sets the rover moving again, and Bearcat is soon out of sight.

Then the comm-link crackles again.

This is Niels Beta-Sixteen, to all Cybernetic Consciousness forces. Disengage from the enemy and withdraw to your latest prepared defensive lines. As of this moment, the Consciousness is declaring a cease-fire. Beta out.

Lewis stares at the comm-link. "It's over!" He whispers.


End of chapter 36.

	18-01-2001 23:28									#38
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Chapter 37:Rude Awakenings


Dorothy sensed..

Call it sparks of light, like tiny fireflies, weaving and dancing around one another. Call it a web of chrome, glittering where light falls on it, but invisible in the darkness.

The two images were almost separate, and involved something more than vision. They seemed to have smell, taste and sound as well, or possibly some absolute grasp of what the objects were rather than what mere organic senses could pick up of their existence.

The images floated together, each mote of light becoming an intersection in the glittering, flickering web. It pulsated, as if the threads were actually electric arcs, flashing into and out of existence dozens of times each second.

Dorothy became aware, slowly, of sounds, as the tiny brilliant dots seemed to draw nearer. High-pitched whistles and groans, like dolphins or irritated beetles, seemed to issue from the dots.

At first they swirled around her, each glittering point in it's own irregular orbit like a swarm of very chaotic electrons. Then they grouped, forming a moving unit, like a school of fish. They drew nearer to each other, and the arcs of energy intensified into a network of silver fire. The squeaks sounded louder, and more of them could be heard at every passing moment in an increasing cacaphony, until, with a flash, they transformed..

..Into words. Dorothy became aware of another presence, seemingly everywhere around her. The words were directed at this being.

"Hivemother, caretaker, self; curious we. This Earthmanchild?"

The other presence answered, with fragmented power similar to the murmur of distant thunder.
"Earthmanchild yes. Brood correct."

"Guardian, shepherd; Who is she? Why hold back? She friend?"

"She is a mere larvae yet, unknown to we. But already we sense her power, yes? She is precious. We have not heard a song like hers before."

"Planet curious too. Spare her we?"

"Yes. We spare all of them."

A whine issued forth from the gleaming sliver of electricity.
"Egg sacs full. Hosts need we; to renew. To grow. To multiply. Spare all but one, Earthmother?"

"No. We will hunt other hosts. We sense Planet.. These should be spared.. For now.."

The scene faded for Dorothy, and there was a sense of withdrawal. A comfortable nothingness surrounded her, but the vision had sparked her consciousness and she felt weary and drowsy. She struggled to clear her mind.

A sense of reality returned as if she'd surfaced from a dark pool. She was dimly aware of lying down, but more urgent was the feeling of suffocation. She sat up and coughed violently, gulping for air in between. Finally, with streaming eyes and a runny nose, she managed to take some deep but laboured breaths and bring the world back into focus.

The first thing she focused on was the deep purple dust on her legs. It was still settling. She wiped her nose with her hand, and found more of the purple stuff. She stared at it curiously, wondering what it was, until she recognized it as spores. From xenofungus.

This made her look around, at the patch of fungus where she was sitting. And, with growing apprehension, she raised her hand to her face again, to check whether she'd missed the mouthpiece of the breather the first time.

No. She was breathing Planet air, and was coughing up xenofungus spores.

She should've been dead already.

The hand laid on her shoulder wasn't much help at this point, but the voice, signalling both patience and irritation, was.

"Calm down, girl; you must've realized by now you're fine."

Dorothy stared at a mindworm slithering past her feet. She tried to talk, and found she could, in hoarse whispers. "I- I thought you couldn't breathe Planet air! At least, not for several thousand years.."

A man walked around her. He was old and showed it, with more wrinkles than Dorothy had seen on a human before. But he wasn't frail; his person suggested someone who had performed heavy labour every day for sixty years. And his gaze was piercing. "That's typical technologist thinking, that." He was carrying a metal rod long enough to serve as a cane, and he pointed it at the purple dust on Dorothy's legs.
"That's a specially mutated strain of xenofungus, Dorothy. It can't survive anywhere but the human lung, where it serves as a barrier for excess nitrogen. It also uses your body's piezo-electric field as an energy-source for photosynthesis, rather than light, giving you more oxygen even if you hold your breath. It isn't particularly comfortable or pleasant until you've gotten used to it, and the occasional purple spores you cough up can be downright scary, especially for ignorant onlookers."

Several items of interest fought for Dorothy's attention. The new feeling of Planet's icy wind on her face, the mindworms slithering about here and there, and the two rovers, parked neatly a little way off. But the main one was: "How come you know my name?"

The man laughed. "Good heavens, haven't you figured that out yet? If you meet a powerful empath with a mindworm boil you don't need to introduce yourself, you know." He nodded. "Exactly; these aren't the wild variety, if that's what's been bothering you."

Dorothy laughed nervously. "Eh- could you ask that one to.. stop slithering over my leg? Please? It's scary.."

"No. I have no control over them."

She looked up at him, half in wonder and half in fear. "But- I thought this was your mindworm boil!"

"Did I say that? No, it's my wife Lisa who controls them." He extended his left hand, offering to help Dorothy stand. "I'm Emilio. But you can call me Old Codger. Everyone does. Come on, I'll introduce you to the family and friends."

A little way off stood three other people; two men and one woman. They were watching over the still unconscious crew from the two rovers.

Old Codger nodded at each in turn as he introduced them. "This is Elena, my daughter, and Enrico, my son. And this is Edgecrusher, our guard against any targets proving unusually resistant to psionics." Elena and Enrico smiled at dorothy. They seemed in their thirties, but could be of any age since the Gaians were renowned for their knowledge of longevity. Edgecrusher seemed slightly older, and his weather-worn face told of a long military career. "Edge, where's Lisa?"

The soldier grimaced and shrugged. "Who knows? She goes where she wants to. Look, I really don't like this-"

"Then just tell her so!" Emilio snapped. Edgecrusher's expression darkened. "Look, I have orders." He started to drone on in a sing-song voice. "Intercept all intruders, and bring the survivors in for questioning. And don't listen to the soft-hearted Gaians", he added with a sneer.

"Planet says leave them be, Edgecrusher." Once again Dorothy felt like she was close to an extremely localized thunderstorm. A tall and wiry woman was approaching the group, and behind her the mindworm-boil seethed like the waters after a destroyer at full speed. Dorothy was amazed when Edgecrusher dared defy this obviously powerful telepath and shake his fist at her. "Damn your Planet! I need at least some of these people back to base for interrogation; how d'you think it'd look if I return empty-handed after reporting the capture of two unidentified rovers?"

Several mindworms clustered around Lisa's feet and hissed at Edgecrusher. She had the look of someone who got obeyed quite a lot. The telepath glared at him, and then said "Interrogate them here. Then report to your precious superiors!" He glared back for a moment, and then turned around and stomped away. Lisa turned towards Dorothy.

"Hello, Dorothy. Don't be afraid of the mindworms; they wouldn't hurt you. They only prune life when it gets too repetitive; when there's too much of the same. And you are new. Special. So Planet has nothing against you."

"How do you mean new? I'm just a girl."

"You are a mere larva yet, you can't expect to be able to see the extent of your abilities when they reach their full power. But I can already see you will branch off in many directions, letting Planet sing with you far better than most humans."

Dorothy felt wary of this woman. Her choice of words were odd, to say the least. Edgecrusher reappeared, holding a comm-link. "Miss, I have orders to escort you and your crew to the borders. The Cybernetic Conscoiusness has begun negotiations for truce on all fronts, and the Morganites are following their example. The presence of any Gaian forces within our borders is no longer beneficial, and should cease."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Well, well.. Shall I awake these people?" Edgecrusher signalled her to wait, and turned to Dorothy. "Girl, you'd better tell the truth now.. How many of you are actual probe-operatives? I need you to point them out. Don't worry; now that the war's over, we're just going to interrogate them and send them back with some diplomatic threats."

Dorothy stared at him for a while, and then pointed at the Free Drone trainees. She refrained from pointing at Merlin and Sebastian. Edgecrusher let his gaze switch between her and the group for a while, and then shrugged. "All right. Lisa, could you awaken the rest.. I'd rather let the probe-operatives regain consciousness in a cell."

Lisa obeyed. Dorothy felt better as she watched Merlin, Sebastian and Jim regain consciousness, and soon they were all talking excitedly. Edgecrusher interrupted them. "I'm a blasted fool, not following orders. I ought to imprison the lot of you, since you were travelling with that probe-team! So could you kindly get out of my sight before any of my superiors appear?"

He didn't have to ask twice. They entered one of the rovers, Sebastian behind the steeringwheel and Dorothy at his side. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Dorothy? Now that the war is over, we could return to the University.. But I really don't think you'd be safe there.."

She fixed him with a piercing stare. "You think Beta won't stop trying to capture me", she said. "Actually, I think so too. But I don't want to run away anymore either." She sighed.

Sebastian nodded sadly. "If you don't run, you'll have to stand and fight. Then choose your battlefield; the University is the best, I think, since you and I know it's ways and lands well. But that will be the first place Beta will look for you. And he has an army now; he could block your escape much more efficiently."

Dorothy thought for a long time.


End of chapter 37.

	18-01-2001 23:31									#39
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Chapter 38:Mayor and Master


Zakharov walks a full circle around Methis' mainframe, as if searching for some specific detail or feature among the masses of terminals and cooling fans. He stops by one of Methis' 'mobile interfaces' while still turned towards the tower of electronics.

"Is there something bothering you?", Methis asks.

Zakharov answers so quickly he almost interrupts Methis. "Do you know, you have one of the deepest personalities I have ever met? You are truly a most multi-faceted individual. I shall make a note to show my appreciation to Dr. Parks once he returns."

"That is very kind of you, Doctor Zakharov. I am sure he will be pleased."

"Imagine; to your friends, such as Dorothy, you are unshakably loyal and gentle, while at the same time you perform calculations concerning mistrust, deceit and violence, even war, with calm efficiency and ruthlessness. It's quite a contradiction."

"If you say so. I must comment, though, that my social and tactical routines are quite separate and interact only minimally."

Zakharov ignores this. "Right now, though, I am particularly astounded by your initiative and resourcefulness. Regarding Dorothy Parks."

Methis is silent for a while. "You do not sound very pleased. Have I done something wrong."

Zakharov laughs. "Wrong?! Methis, were the University a democracy I'd consider giving you the right to vote! No, I intend to reward and promote you."

"I am pleased. How?"

Zakharov claps his hands. "For starters, I am delegating the management of University Base to you. Budget allocation, infrastructure, maintenance, the whole deal. Previously I have managed this city almost single-handedly, since it has helped me relax. But now I'm growing tired of it, and I intend to relax with some basic research into quantum chemistry instead. So I want you to take over. I don't think there is a more qualified person anywhere."

"This is.. a great responsibility."

Zakharov smiles. "It is a day I have long dreamt about. Machines in the past have been our tools and servants. Now, you will be the mayor and master of University Base. With the job comes a paycheck, of course, which you will receive. You may spend it as you see fit."

"This is a great honour, Dr. Zakharov. I shall spend it, or save it, wisely. But just now you said 'once Dr. Parks returns'. Does this mean you have received word from him?"

Zakharov nods. "Indeed. He's being accused of kidnapping a Cybernetic citizen in good standing, thus creating a really stinking political situation, but since Jessica was tricked into merging in the first place I don't think Beta has much of a case. Anyway, Lewis is already safe within University territory, and on his way here. I expect him to reach the nearest mag-tube station within three weeks."

Methis is silent for a moment. "Then my real trial will begin soon." He turns his interface around one revolution, letting Zakharov inspect it. "What do you think? Will it do?"

Zakharov nods. "It will do excellently, Methis."

"One more thing.. Can I still assist Lewis and his team? His work is rather important.."

"Of course." Zakharov looks around. "It's Lewis' lab, and for now you're quite too much trouble to move. While at the same time you're present wherever there's a computer terminal in University Base, and wherever you can walk."

Something else seems to occur to Methis. "As a mayor I'd have to participate in meetings and conferences, and receive guests, unless I am mistaken?"

"Oh, yes. That's partly why I'm enjoying this so much." Zakharov nods at Methis' interface again. "Ever since we managed to fit the antenna into the heads of your interfaces, there's been no way of telling them apart from true humans. So you could talk to the Morganite ambassador without him realizing he's standing half a meter from our greatest technological achievement. Mere cybernetic replacement limbs don't compete in the same leauge as you, Methis, when one speaks of discoveries. Of course, we'll have to create an official identity for one of your more representative interfaces, but that's already being taken care of."

"It appears I can calmly accept the new job, doctor. You have thought of everything, as usual."

Zakharov nods, as if to acknowledge that everything is proceeding according to plan. Then he frowns. "And now on to less happy matters. The empaths' college have given their report on this Beta -fellow. Could you summarize their observations?"

"Certainly. They consider Beta an extremely intelligent psychotic and megalomaniac. His actions and adherence to promises are erratic at best."

"As I gathered. How likely do the empaths consider the possibility he will resume his policy of attack, and his kidnappings?"

"They consider it certain, Provost."

"Then we must be on our guard. We don't want him to get his hands on Dorothy, now do we."

"Indeed. I am most pleased to have reestablished contact with her, Provost, and I would be most distressed should the link be.. unexpectedly severed."

"Well, guard the privacy of your 'discussions' with everything you have. The Cyborgs must not be let within striking distance."

"Of course. They will not find me a weak part in her armour."

"Good. Then everything is in order, and we can wait."

"Wait for what?"

"For the next sign of war. He won't stop trying to conquer us; not in a million years. If he truly thinks he is superior to us humans, then he can't accept failure. His mind would break. The same goes for getting Dorothy. So he will most certainly attack us again."

"Oh." Methis is silent for a moment. "Then I have chosen a too optimistic set of scenarios when considering the defense of the Parks, as well as the University. I must reform my strategy for the university, and will have the initial drafts for you by tomorrow morning. However.. concerning Dorothy, I have thought of one way we might reduce the risk to her, but it would require some innovations I am as yet incapable of making. I am not creative enough. I suggest that Dorothy and I, and no one else, be involved in developing this.. The general concept is presented on visual display unit four."

Zakharov squints at the monitor for a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he starts grinning. Then he starts laughing.

"Why, of course! By all means, get right on it!"


End of chapter 38.

	18-01-2001 23:33									#40
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Book Two


"Finally, we have refined and improved the MMI to the stage where it can translate, in real time, any and all aspects of the brain's functions into a universal, octanary computer-code language. This is the key in the development of the simulacrum systems."

-Declassified and reprinted by permission of Dr. Rachel Dorothy Parks, from 'Report 292.361B'

Chapter 39: Deja Vu.


See how father and daughter are reunited.

Watch as the emotional moment unfolds. See the reward-ceremony next day, where Zakharov once again flexes the public relations-muscle. See the reuniting of what's left of the research-team, and the setting of new goals, including the restoration of Jessica Parks and professor Andersen. Observe how Dorothy is present at all of these events. She asks questions. She even makes suggestions.

Lewis and Dorothy are asked if they would like to resume the longevity-treatment, and while Lewis is eager to, Dorothy wants to save them until she has grown up.

And grow up she does, spectacularly. Her scores before the kidnappings put her in the top ten percent among children of her age, but as the years pass she advances. Fast. At the age of thirteen she is without equal among children of her age, and she is actively helping Lewis in his projects. At the age of fifteen, she has completed her first research-project, together with Methis. Zakharov declares the results 'top secret'.


And now, eleven years later..


See the young woman, walking along the corridor. See her father, walking by her side and smiling.

"Dad, what's on your mind? Why that faint smile?" She is dressed in a light blue lab-coat, with her hair tied into a ponytail with a red ribbon. She is twenty-one, actually, but nineteen physically.

"Oh I'm sorry, was I smiling? I didn't realize.." He is wearing a labcoat, with a slightly darker shade of blue, showing his status as senior research-administrator. Hair and beard are still dark and short, but the auto-adjusting glasses are gone.

"Well here's a penny for your thoughts; what are you thinking about?"

This time Lewis grins like fresh millionaire. "Whether or not I dare grant you a wish for your twenty-second birthday!"

Dorothy shakes her head sadly, while smiling mischievously. "Three broken bones is enough, thank you very much, so I won't ask for a mono-grav this time around."

"But I doubt you'll settle for a bicycle this time around either!"

They are still chuckling when they reach the second checkpoint. The procedure now has the swiftness of routine. The rest of the route is so familiar that Dorothy is quite surprised when Lewis stops at the wrong door.

"Lewis, where are you going? The lab's through this door!"

Her father smiles at her and knocks at the, she realizes, new plaque. "You are right. But this adjacent lab will be yours and Methis' from now on. We intend to move and upgrade both her hardware and her interfaces, and remove the manual ones, as soon as an internal connection has been built between the two labs. You and Methis are now official cerebral cybernetics -researchers."

To hide her surprise, Dorothy grumbles. "And all it took to qualify was nine amazing years -and counting- as secret mayor of university Central for Methis, and three major research publications for me. Of course, only Zakharov has read them, but still..."

"Huh. Some researchers don't get this privilege even though they've published two hundred major theories. No, Zakharov usually reserves new labs for 'earthshakers'. Your work seemingly qualifies. Whatever that is. I still can't believe you've gained a higher security-rating than me!" He shakes his finger at her, as if chiding her, but he smiles all the time. "All I get to hear is the nice-sounding name; simulacrum-systems." Dorothy only smiles at her father's grumbling.

The door opens, and the cool gust emanating from the room, hinting of metal and plastic, speaks of the new and unused spaces beyond. The lights are turned on silently and automatically, and as Dorothy gazes over her new domain she hears a gasp by her side.

"What's wrong, dad?"

Lewis is gaping, but he shuts his mouth quickly and shakes his head with a grim expression. "I just had a rather unwelcome feeling of deja-vu, that's all."

"Do you know why?"

"Yes. Except for the size and the fact that this room has the normal amount of surfaces, it is a rather straight replica of the thirteenth room in Alpha Prime's central admin."

"Convergent evolution in design, do you think?"

"No. I think we're finally getting our probe-teams into a hard-hitting force. Nanoelectronics probably helps." He sighs. "Well, that's that surprise unveiled. Now, do you have any wish you can think of here and now?"

Dorothy walks a bit into the lab and is silent for a moment. "Rehabilitate mom."

Lewis finds he is unable to answer. A heavy burden seems to have settled onto his chest. He leans against the doorframe and lowers his head.

After a short while Dorothy continues. "It's not as easy as we thought, is it?"

Lewis clears his throat. "I know it's easy. I just don't know how to do it. I know that you know, as well, how frustratingly simply that cybernetic implant defies every attempt at analysis. Even now, with our advanced knowledge of the human mind and how to shape it -in part thanks to you, I gather- we still can't straighten out exactly how the algorithm/human blending works, or how it unravels. Zakharov claims he can't help us, even though I suspect he has played a part in Aki's introduction to Zeta-Five."

"Well, what can we do?"

Lewis sighs. "A young researcher advanced this theory the other day, and I know he is right; if we could study the first algorithm somehow we'd find all the answers. We know that the newer algorithms hide their function well within a person's standard psyche -essentially there's no boundary between the two. But older algorithms -and especially Aki Zeta-five- are partly or completely hardware-based. And I know of only Aki Zeta-Five to have retained this configuration. I don't know why; it could be all show. But if not.. There's the key." Another sigh. "Bearcat also told me that she actually knows how to separate algorithm and human. But no-one has seen her since Beta took control of the Consciousness. No-one even knows if she's still alive, and I haven't heard anything from Bearcat in all these years. I'm afraid we might never find out how algorithms are separated from their 'host' unless Beta decides to tell us."

Dorothy is silent for a couple of seconds, apparently studying the empty dais upon which Methis' new mainframe will rest; all the way from the floor to the ceiling, with walkways connecting to it at every level. Then she glances quickly at Lewis.

"We must hope for the best."


End of chapter 39.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 18, 2001).]

	18-01-2001 23:39									#41
	Put an end to popups!

Chapter 40: Hubris


Morgan Industries. See a large room in the corner of a skyscraper. Note the double-thick windows, the furniture from the cutting edge of fashion, the woman sitting in the sofa. An old-looking man enters in a bathrobe, towelling his hair and humming an old tune only partly recognizable.

He stops as he notices the woman and his face splits into a joyful grin. His eyes dart to the windows.

"Well, well. How long has it been? I can still recognize you, although you do look quite different now. So not too long.. What do you call yourself these days?"

"Nothing." The voice is barely a whisper. "One of my.. clients.. call me J'arim-Aild'hu, which loosely translates into 'Where All Hubris Ends'. The name has stuck."

The grin turns into a warm smile. "They must think quite highly of you, my girl."

She nods slowly. "Well, I know some of them think of me quite often.. but I doubt they're smiling while they do it.."

The old man sits back in a recliner. "Hmm. So Progenitors actually can smile.."

The woman smiles and shakes her head. "Not physically. They alter their resonance to show happiness, joy or satisfaction, depending on the situation." She sighs. "Tell your guard to stop creeping around in the corridor."

The old man raises his eyebrows. "Edgecrusher? Come meet my guest."

Upon hearing this the woman turns around to observe the large man leaving the cover of the shadows beyond the door. "Edgecrusher? Well, well. Planet is shrinking."

The old man reaches to a table by the recliner and grabs hold of a box. He opens it and pulls out a cigar. "Not really. It turns out he's been on my payroll all along. That's one of the downsides of owning more corporations than most people own socks." He shrugs and fumbles for a lighter. "Arresting your boss is an effective but risky method of making an impression. Nowadays I seem to be attracting an irritating amount of assassins and people ready to push their luck; so where I go, Edgecrusher goes first. Edge, do you still remember our guest? You met a while back.."

The tall corporate soldier nods at J'arim as he walks over to the old man. "No I don't, I'm sorry to say. When did we meet?"

"Maybe it's best that way, Edge. Knowing me is.. dangerous.. I seem to attract enemies.

The old man nods, amused. "How long have you been looking for me? I'm on the move a lot, as you know, so I must have been a bit difficult to find."

An innocent smile forms on Hubris' lips. "Someone left a copy of the executive's calendar lying around where anybody could get their hands on it. I noticed that the board was arranging a big party tonight, so I could assume you would be there.

Jim grunts. "So what business of yours concerns an old sailor like Jim Sturlasson, lass?"

"Corporate espionage."

"Thank goodness you're whispering", Jim mumbles.

"Not against Morgan Industries. I mean.. I'm suggesting a 'sponsored' espionage mission."

"Against who?"

"The Cybernetic Consciousness." There is a pause. "Are you surprised?"

"Well, not really. You don't look like you go after small fish. But."

"Yes. But. This is a very big fish. You need an extra large hook."

"Hah, yes. So what do you expect to catch, uh.. 'Hubris'?"

The woman ignores the nickname. "Aki Zeta-Five." She smiles. "I believe there might be some ancient scandinavian-born sympathy for her in you."

Jim chuckles. "Let's just say that most people realize what they have only when they have lost it. Yes.. I miss Aki Zeta-Five.. especially her more liberal view on trade.." He puffs his cigar, lost in thought. Then he retuns to the present. "So you think she is still alive? Most of my psychic evaluators assure me she is likely to have been killed almost immediately."

"No. She is useful, essential even, so Beta won't kill her. Being psychotic does not mean you are stupid. And, of course, she is such an obvious target for probe-teams. I think Beta partly keeps her alive as bait for people like me."

"Bait.. meaning increased security, round-the-clock surveillance and the likes" Jim murmurs doubtfully.

Hubris shrugs. "Naturally. It's not a problem."

Jim leans forward. "Hubris, you must realize how all this sounds to me."

"Of course. So.. shall we say a small demonstration is in order?"

"Hmm. What do you mean?"

"Give me a target and instructions what to do with it. Any target."

There is a long pause. Then Jim scratches his chin. "Any target?" Hubris nods, and he smiles. "Then.. The highest-selling piece of technology possible within the Industries is Centaurian technology. Find me something new and exciting on mindworms." He holds up up a hand. "But there's more. I know what the Gaians have, and while interesting it's not breathtaking. No.. I want you to infiltrate the Cult of Planet." He leans back again, smiling happily. "If you can pull off intercontinental technological espionage then I'm prepared to believe you can walk on water or, even worse, infiltrate the Cyborgs and bring back what very likely is their most guarded person."

Hubris merely shrugs. "I will contact you once the data you want has arrived on this continent." With that she stands up, nods at Edgecrusher and leaves.

The mercenary frowns after her. "Boss, who is she? I'd remember if I have met a professional like her before. And there is something about her I don't like."

"Edge, you are a good bodyguard, which is why I won't jeopardize you by telling more. Knowing her is unhealthy, nowadays. So the less you know, the better. As for your instincts.. they serve you well." He rises, ponderously. "Should you find yourself in a battle with her as an opponent, you have my permission to retreat." He harrumphs. "When is my longevity-treatment scheduled? I'm feeling much too old for my liking right now..."


End of chapter 40.

	19-01-2001 17:23									#42
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Chapter 41: The Plague


Knock, knock.

Considering the precise location of this door, Having to knock on it to announce your presence to the room's inhabitants might be unexpected. But Dr. Zakharov, whose door it is, never adds or leaves out a detail without good cause. There are several kinds of ways to knock on a door. The calm (and prepared), the urgent, angry and scared. A lot might be deduced of the person knocking, if only you have the means to decipher it.

Zakharov has the means. Theory states that even a person's identity can be determined from his/her knock, and Zakharov intends to find out how close to this he can get by applying all the knowledge of the University. So he only has to glance down at his monitor, as he does right now, to find out that, with sixty-seven per cent probability, the person on the other side of the door is Captain Sebastian Steiner from Central Intelligence. There is also another readout, which looks like this:

67.3% Calm
33.0% Stressed
06.1% Excited
02.9% Worried

Zakharov raises his eyebrows. Captain Steiner has visited him (and therefore knocked on his door) hundreds of times before, giving ample material to calibrate the analyzer with, and while he still doesn't trust the device enough to pay attention to the tenths of percentages, this is the first time it has indicated Sebastian to be excited or worried. He clears his throat and pushes a button. A loud click declares the door is being unlocked.

Sebastian enters quickly, and rips off a salute. "Doctor Zakharov."

Prokhor nods at him. "Be seated, Captain Steiner. I understood you have a report.."

"Yes. Only, I was asked by General Zhukov to bring you some urgent news that he didn't want to commit to the network just yet.."

"Yes? Well, let's hear the report first."

Sebastian nods and leans forward in his chair to place a memory-cube on the Provost's table. "You asked me to do a threat-assessment on every foreign nation's probe-operations within our borders, so that they could be dealt with in the proper order and using the right means. I now have identified an immediate and major threat, and have stopped the survey so that we can deal with it."

"Go on."

Captain Steiner thinks for a moment before he continues. "I had the first hints of what was going on when the department of Anti-Insurgency operations summoned me. They had a problem." He pauses. "They had arrested a person suspected of aiding some Data-Angel probe-teams gather data on the University. It turned out he hadn't -he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time- but the standard medical showed something interesting. Could you bring up the image named 'item one'?"

He points at the memory-cube. Zakharov picks it up and inserts it into the slot in his desk. A large panel opens by the slot, revealing the triple lenses of a small holo-projector. They flicker into life, and moments later a three-dimensional image of a head rotates slowly in mid-air. The surface quickly fades, exposing the brain. Then a network of yellow lines is formed, concentrating at the neck.

Prokhor leans forward, studying the image carefully. "Hmm. An MMI, of University make -it's neural/optic. But those neural lines there aren't standard.. Do you have the networking schematics?"

Sebastian nods. "That's 'item two', sir." He watches as the image changes, and then points at a part of the schematics. "See that? That's the addition. Let's zoom in to the details.. see that cluster of neuron monitors? We compared their layout with known designs. At first we couldn't find a match, but we widened our search.." He stopped. Zakharov had leaned back in his chair with an expression of dismay.

"It's the Cybernetic extension allowing algorithms to merge with a person, isn't it? I've studied them extensively."

Sebastian nods. "Yes. With a few modifications. But that's only to be expected when you upgrade technology."

Zakharov's fist thumps the armrest of his chair. "Blasted Planet! So Beta has unlocked our biological MMI:s and found out how to grow the extension he needs. Therefore removing the need for the surgery that has previously stood as a barrier to his expansion."

Another nod from Sebastian. "That's right, but it gets worse. You see, as far as we could tell the subject was not merged, and had never been."

Zakharov frowns. "That's not logical. And it's unlikely the subject could have escaped download -after all, now they can download it together with the instructions for the addition to the MMI. There's no possibility of failure."

"That's what I gathered as well. The lads at Anti-Insurgency just thought he was somehow incompatible, and were prepared to release him, but I ordered some tests by our algorithm-experts and Methis. After some time they did detect a Cyborg algorithm.. but it was unmerged and inactive." He sighs. "I know how much help having an unmerged algorithm would be to our current research into removing them, but I was convinced by Methis that we don't have the means to remove it intact. It's already partly integrated into the subject's mind. Not merged, but still there."

"Strange. That is even more unlikely."

"Only if it is unintentional, sir. Have you ever heard of sleeper personalities? Or hypnotic re-conditioning?"

"Or course. I've supervised many experiments into the subject. Ah.. I see. Sleeper algorithms. How.. clever!"

"Yes. All you need is a trigger; a word, location or an event -like seeing a specific person- and the algorithm activates and merges. Psychological or empathic scans show nothing up to that moment. The Cybernetic Consciousness could have planted thousands of these by merely hacking into one public data-terminal and tell it to download the bio-networking schematics and the algorithm during every connection. Then all our citizens using that network node would be affected." Sebastian takes a deep breath, and when he continues his voice is tired and cracked. "I immediately ran a sys-check via Methis on all University Central nodes. As I thought, they were clean. But. I then asked Methis to log on remotely to all nodes in every other major University city. And the ratio of infected nodes was three per seventeen. I suspect, therefore, that the system works the other way around as well. A person carrying a sleeper algorithm that connects to a 'clean' node automatically infects it. Unless the node is located in University Base, where the possibility of detection is too high."

Zakharov rests his chin in his left hand, while his right hand clenches and unclenches. Then: "We can't simply reprogram the nodes to remove the algorithm from every user. I suspect the Cyborgs, to whom neural programming is a necessity of life, have thought that far ahead and made it impossible. And it would be nearly impossible in any case, since we still haven't figured out how their algorithms work. So.. we need first a way to protect all non-infected users." He straightens up. "Have Methis clean the affected network nodes and program some type of hunter/killer algorithm that destroys any further attempts to infect a node. Then.. I'm sure they've thought of it, but also erect a program that searches for sleeper algorithms in every user's MMI. Have the node compile a list of affected persons and have it sent to you. And then.. we'll have to contact each person individually and try to remove the algorithm through surgery."

Sebastian nods. "I already have a list of sleeper algorithms in Academy Park as of six hours ago. Since all node-events are logged it is easy to see when the node was infected and who has connected since then. If the situation is the same everywhere, then.. roughly one person in twenty in the entire University of Planet now carries a sleeper algorithm. We have to assume that new orders can be given even to sleeping algorithms if the person reconnects to a node at a later time."

Zakharov nods. "This is.. bad. What about our army?"

"They have very little contact with the public node network, so they are almost completely unaffected."

"Good. You can use whatever means and resources necessary to eliminate this threat. In the meanwhile, I will instruct my generals to keep an eye on the Cybernetic Consciousness. We will teach them a bitter lesson when the time is right."

Sebastian coughs. "That time may be right now, sir. But first I'd like to make a suggestion."

"Very well. Go on."

"I know.. some.. of the qualities of Dorothy Park's MMI. Couldn't we simply implement those innovations into the models of all citizens, thus rendering them impervious to this kind of influence?"

Zakharov is silent for a while. "No. This may seem uncharacteristic of me, but that kind of MMI would be replacing a serious danger with a very serious danger. That technology is too unsafe for widespread use." He holds up a hand. "There are other reasons as well, captain, so spare me your objections. It's just that you don't have the security clearance to hear the other reasons. Now, was there anything else?"

Steiner, visibly annoyed, pauses to collect his thoughts. "I told you I had some news.. Well, half an hour ago the Cybernetic Consciousness launced a surprise assault on the Caretakers. The two factions are now officially at war!"

"Oh, so the esteemed Beta has gone suicidal? What are the odds, fifteen to one?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "The attack was.. enhanced. We think the entire Cybernetic army has been upgraded with nerve-gas ammunition. Against the Progenitors, this amounts to canisters of ozone. It melts their eyes and lungs in under a minute." He shudders at the thought.

Zakharov narrows his eyes. "Don't look so dismayed, Captain. If it were us, I'd do the exact same thing.. only I would find a more effective substance. Ozone dissipates too quickly for my taste! Well.. You have given me much to ponder. Was there anything more?"

"No." Sebastian rises and heads for the door. "I will keep you informed on both events, Provost." He salutes and exits.


End of chapter 41.

	19-01-2001 17:25									#43
	Got spare money?

Chapter 42: Zeus


The skipper onboard ths Aeolus stops in front of the cabin door and checks his costume. He has endured storms unlike any witnessed on Terra -and he knows it- but is still afraid of the cabin's inhabitant. He steels himself and knocks.

"Miss Kojl, you requested a wake-up call for eight hours standard time? She's now 8:01." He waits a moment, listening for an acknowledgement. "Miss Kojl?"

The door opens, and miss Kojl looks critically, with one eyebrow raised, at the young skipper. "Not bad. But be more sure of yourself next time." She hands him some Morganite credits. "Now run off; I'm sure there's work that needs your attention."

The skipper doesn't need to be told twice. He disappears as if he's been putting off rescuing a drowning child in order to knock on miss Kojl's door. Miss Rebecca Kojl -'Hubris'- closes it and returns to her computer. She has, in fact, not been asleep at all. At least, not here. On the computer's monitor is the stock-prices for Nessus-Thalassa shipping company; the largest civilian cruise-organizer on Planet. One of Hubris's companies now owns twenty per cent of it's stocks, giving her a chair at the virtual council-table. The purchase was significant enough to be broadcast on MNN (Morgan News Network), and rumours of a takeover were born, raising the stocks additionally. Initially Hubris had intended to hold on to the shares only for the duration of her visit to the continent of Zeus, but now she has decided to keep them at least for as long as the price is rising.

Soon after, she goes up to the command bridge. The captain is talking into a comm-link. "..Authorities in The Edicts. If you would check.." He pauses. "But this is a civilian.." Another pause. "But we just came from Data Decentral, fer Planet's sake, we can't have.. But.." He sighs. "Very well. But you must realize we will cancel all regular shipping to your ports as a protest. The company cannot accept this kind of treatment. Explain that to your superior, and ask if he wants to explain to Cha Dawn why the income from shipping has sunk." A sneer slowly forms on the captain's lips as he listens to the reply. "I thought we might reach a compromise... Well, I understand you need every credit you get, don't you, so you wouldn't want to ruin.. well, I'll speak on your behalf... All right. Over and out."

He hangs up the comm-link onto a rack in the roof, snorts, shakes his head, turns around and notices Hubris with a start. "Excuse me, miss Kojl. Didn't hear you as I was negotiating with the Radiant Flower." He nods out of the front window, where a large ship bristling with cannons is about to move out of the way of the Aeolus.

Hubris regards the cruiser suspiciously. "What did they want?"

"Search the ship and charge us a hundred thousand morgan-creds for doing it. Plus, if I know these bastards, arrest and drag away anyone who looks like good ransom-material. Say what you like, at least the Pirates have style." He shrugs. "I picked up some local radio-traffic this morning. There's no official stations, but I did catch a conversation between the captains of two kelp harvesters." He raises his eyebrows and turns to look at the coast, where Dawn of Planet lies half-camouflaged against the backdrop of xenofungus. "They said.. there's a war going on. Well, several actually. Seems just about everybody on Zeus is fighting. That's probably why we're being so badly treated by these sporeheads."

"Really? That's odd. You'd expect the peacekeepers to keep a lid on things. Anyway; we're wasting energy out here, Captain. Take us to harbour!"

To keep out 'bad influences', all Cultist harbours are surrounded by walls and watchtowers. Only people above a certain station, and no foreigners, are allowed to pass through the few gates into and out of the area. Hubris knows this. But she also knows that the Pirates use this port from time to time, and they tend to rebel against confinement. So as Hubris walks along the storage-buildings and offices she gazes intently at the random graffiti and other scrawls on the wall, and soon finds what she seeks: A crude compass-rose divided in half by a lightning. There is an arrow next to the graffiti.

Hubris goes in the direction the arrows are pointing. There's similar marks along the route, with additional arrows. They point right at an intersection. Then down a small passage between two storage-houses. At it's end is an old sewer-hatch with the same rose painted on it. The hatch opens easily.

Beneath, a dark tunnel. But after only twenty meters a shaft of light shines down onto the floor from another hatch. Hubrish pushes it open and looks out at a xenofungal garden.

No-one sees her exit the sewer. She puts down her suitcase on the ground, opens it and pulls out an orange and violet robe. Then, as she steps out into a crowd on the street by the garden, she is indistinguishable from any other Cultist.

She disappears among the crowd.

End of chapter 42.

	19-01-2001 17:26									#44
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Chapter 43: Brainwash


Zakharov stares at the frozen holo-image. It shows the front door to an apartment in the hab complex' lower portions. The door is open by a narrow crack, and the barrel of a gun protrudes from the darkness beyond.

In front of it a CounterInsurgency-agent is collapsing with a great hole in his torso.

"And you say the subject's algorithm is not, in fact, active."

Sebastian Steiner nods. "No. It was bound to happen. When a criminal finds three C-I agents knocking on his front door he pulls out a gun, no matter how friendly their smiles are. And we don't train our agents to smile at all."

"These certainly aren't", Zakharov mumbles. He looks up sharply at the captain. "What kind of criminal?"

Sebastian grins mirthlessly. "A Morganite probe-operative, sir. He's lived in Cosmograd for three years; he got the MMI two years ago. He got the sleeper-algorithm fourteen Terran days ago."

Zakharov unfreezes the holo-image. The ensuing firefight is short. "And we can't even question him. How vexing. Have there been more incidents like this?"

The captain stares into space as he consults his MMI. "Thirteen, sir. No more probes, though; only criminals of some kind or another. They are turned over to the militia." He looks down at Zakharov. "The militia is getting restless, by the way. I've received demands from almost every local commander to let them know what we are doing."

"That's up to me, not you. Give me the reports."

Sebastian nods, and his eyes dart this way and that as he accesses the files. A short beep from Zakharov's desk indicates received data. "By the way, sir.. How proceeds our search for a way to remove the algorithms?"

Zakharov rises from his chair, and begins to pace back and forth. His frustration is obvious. "We have found no way to decipher the code the Cybernetic algorithms use. We can shut down the MMIs of the affected individuals, but we can't remove them and it makes the subjects socially handicapped. Several of our top researchers are now on a holiday indefinitely." He stops, and turns to face Steiner.

"We need Aki Zeta-Five. I'm gathering resources to launch a large-scale probe operation into Cybernetic territory and gather data on her current status and possible whereabouts, and also to search for any signs of an underground resistance. Lewis indicated there could be one, although I doubt it. In the meanwhile, I need you to keep the situation in control here. Can you do this?"

Sebastian hangs his head. "No. More cases turn up every day, at a quicker rate than we can neutralize existing ones. We estimate that two percent of the entire population carries a sleeper-algorithm. And the damn algorithms are evolving; previously cleaned and protected node-terminals soon become infected and dangerous again. It's obvious that they're not only 'sleeping'."

Zakharov raises his eyebrows. "So, in fact, you'd welcome the assistance of the local militia?"

Captain Sebastian Steiner nods.

"Hah. Then so be it; I'm downgrading the security-rating of the operation to 'classified'. But not a single word of this can be read by anyone but those who absolutely need to know. Understand? Keep them as much in the dark as possible."

"Yes, Provost." Steiner turns to leave.

"One more thing, captain. Tell Professor Parks I require his assistance. He's one of the last people to see Aki Zeta-Five, and he even assisted her. If a merged human can trust, then she might just trust him. He should be close by if, and when, we find her."

"Yes, sir." The captain exits.

A short while later, Lewis Parks opens the door to the Parks' residence and motions for Steiner to enter.

"Come in! It's nice to see you again." He turns to a robot by the door. "Lugnut, serve Vodka for me and the Captain." The robot speeds off while Sebastian grimaces apologetically.

"I'm afraid I'm still on duty, strictly speaking. I must turn down the Vodka.."

Lewis raises his eyebrows. "Well then, Captain, how can I help you?"

"I'm here as a messenger at the moment.. Zakharov is finally allowing me to bring out the big guns to rid the University of sleeper algorithms. He's authorized the militia to help me.. but, as usual, I must keep them in the dark. Also... we're finally trying to find Aki Zeta-Five. And, in case we do, Zakharov wants you to be prepared. He thinks you are the best person to negotiate with her, since you have met her."

A light shines in Lewis' eyes. "Finally!"


End of Chapter 43.

	19-01-2001 17:30									#45
	Put an end to popups!

Chapter 44: Celan Barr


"The Drowning Larva" was illegal. All bars, taverns and restaurants serving alcohol were illegal. In the Hive, or the Peacekeepers, such establishments were in constant risk of being raided, since drug-abuse was considered serious.

The Cult of Planet did not consider drugs a problem. Some drugs were actually encouraged, like the quite toxic substance extracted from the purple bulges growing on kelp attacked by Reimhart's Syndrome -a disease rendering them inedible otherwise. Supposedly, it increased the user's affinity to the Planetmind. At least it induced hypersensitivity and sluggishness.

So the Drowning Larva was quite safe from intervention, provided it wasn't too visible. To this effect, the authorities had set up a repulsive field at the front entrance; The psionic field was quite effective in dissuading people from approaching. But the rear entrance had no such mental field on it, and nothing stopped sufficiently inquisitive people from finding it.

Celan Barr, second node-administrator of the ruby petal district (about six thousand computerized households), had found it. He'd searched for some exciting variation to his life other than the rapport offered to those willing to become caretakers of a mindworm-boil (or, if you were promising enough, locusts of Chiron), and hadn't even realized his search was over until he'd asked the barkeeper for a menu.

"Mennyou?" The barkeeper had asked slowly. "Whadda ya need mennyous four, anyways? I gots one poison only -'less yewwant some lehmonayde!" The barkeeper chuckled.

Reddening slightly, Barr had asked for a drink of -of whatever 'poison' it was.

And poison it had almost been. The idea of a highly alcoholic drink with a worm floating in the bottle was an old one, from Terra. But Chiron had some pretty deadly worms... In this case, the worm had been gutted, and it's intestines were floating on the bottom of the bottle together with the skin, stuffed with spices. The intestines were in no other way treated, and the alcohol extracted several complicated chemicals from them. The barkeeper had, with a leer, told Barr that he should begin with small doses -say, a thimbleful- until he got used.

He had heeded the advice. Later he learned that even some experienced drinkers didn't take more than a thimbleful of the drink, 'mindwarper', mixed out by a glass of strong juice. He had woken up on a bed in one of the bar's back rooms. The barkeeper had come in moments later, smiling, and presented him with a bill of tens of morgan-creds. He still had his money, and his identification; in fact, despite raving like a madman for more than two hours, no-one had used the opportunity in any way (partly because he had been entertaining to watch). If the officials would have found Barr in, say, the main street, drunk and robbed, it would have attracted much attention to the Drowning Larva.

Any attention was bad, for the same reason that Barr hadn't minded -he became, in fact, a regular customer. The drink was highly illegal, because of the mindworm. While the bar could serve alcohol and a good selection of narcotics with the minimum of inconvenience from the officials, any crime involving harming mindworms was punishable by death. By brood pit. Celan Barr had found all the excitement he could wish for.

That was two years ago. Now he could drink a thimbleful, diluted in mineral water, without the powerful nausea and spasms of the novice. He had learned to ingore the strong feeling of panic and disorientation. And beyond those he had found sense-experiences without description (and a huge drain on his life savings).

Today was special. He was having trouble ingoring the unpleasant sensations in favour of the fantastic, since he knew this was the last drink he could afford. He was behind on nearly all payments, and he ate very little food. His superiors had threatened to fire him, and the term 'unemployed' was unknown in the Cult of Planet. People with no other job were employed in the mindworm industry -as caretakers, breeders.. or food. He knew what he qualified for. In a way, it was poetic justice considering his recurring crime these two years, but he was determined to avoid it.

That left the question, what now? How to afford more mindwarper?

"You could always find a second job."

He started. Despite the drink, he was certain he hadn't uttered the question out loud. And only now did he notice the figure sitting opposite to him. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if the authorities had entered unannounced..

"I'm not the militia. I have no intention of turning you in", the figure -a woman, Barr realized- whispered. So.. she could read his mind..

Yes I can. Relax, Celan Barr. I can solve all your problems. He felt a wave of relief flood into his mind, and the effect of the mindwarper increased to a level he had never experienced before. All of his normal senses were drowned out, and he floated in a limbo of the totally indescribable.

..Until he opened his eyes, with a curiously fresh feeling. Almost as if the two years had been a dream. There was no craving of mindwarp. Nothing! Only the woman in front of him, and his surroundings, told him his last two years had indeed been spent in the sign of addiction.

Yes. Now he admitted it, when not a trace was left.

"Lady.. what have you done with me? I should be grateful, I suppose.."

A knowing smile interrupted his praise. "..But now you need something else to fill your days with excitement. I can provide."

He shook his head. "No, no more drugs. No more addiction."

"But you still are addicted to thrill, or excitement. Some way to escape the boredom of being second node-administrator.. and I have no intention of suppressing that."

He straightened up. "What do you want?" Actually, he found he had almost no reservations against dealing with this woman. She seemed to radiate trust.

"Nothing much, for the likes of you. Would you work against Cha Dawn for me?"

He should have jumped from his chair with a cry of 'traitor'. Illegal though this facility was, enemies of the Cult were not welcome. But he admitted to himself that this would be an act of hypocrisy. He loathed Cha Dawn, and knew of others who shared his feelings. People with 'disappeared' relatives. For a while, the image of his daughter -his intelligent daughter, who'd become a radical at the university- floated in front of him. Yet, speaking out loud opinions like that, in an insecure location, was equal to suicide.

Not that he had to speak. I can give you revenge.. but it is not my prime aim. It is merely a possible bonus.. if you will help me. You may also think of it as helping the Cult; people like yourself.

Finally, the penny dropped. Barr was looking at the face of a probe-operative. And he didn't mind.. that much. "I- The risks-"

She smiled. "I'll save you, should the public censors trace you." Again, Barr found himself trusting her. He realized with a surprise that he couldn't think of a single objection.

He nodded. "I'm listening. What do you need?" He felt thrill again, the entire world seemed to have shifted without moving; everything seemed exciting and new.

"An identity. I have, of course, many.. but I want some more. This should be no problem." Barr nodded. "Furthermore, I have use of additional manpower. Like-minded people in influental positions, and also people used to evading the law. You know of some; contact them.. And while you now won't spend your money on mindwarp, I will still pay you.. oh, five thousand morgan-credits per month. Only make sure you keep your newfound wealth hidden, understand? I will pay every person you recruit three thousand morgans per month, and a bonus of two hundred per person per month to you."

Barr's jaw slackened. His monthly pay was four hundred morgans; a very good pay by Cultist standards. Suddenly, he recalled the briefly overheard names of several already existing anti- Cha Dawn organisations. Some of those could without doubt provide many recruits of both kinds.

The woman nodded to herself and rose, as if to leave. Barr rose too. "Wait!" He realized he had raised his voice, and restored it to a low murmur. "How can I contact you? What is your name?"

She shook her head. "You can't contact me, but I will never be out of reach. You may call me.. 'Hubris'. Arrogant pride, which is what I'm fighting. I will return when you have found enough recruits."

Celan Barr smiled as she disappeared out the back door; he seemed to live an interesting life after all! Who would have believed it?


End of chapter 44.

	19-01-2001 17:37									#46
	Increase the size of your Attachments

Chapter 45:What Is Your Name?


This was a no-holds-barred kind of mission. No expenses too large, no quarter given, no surviving of capture. The commander of the sixth through ninth University probe-teams had never before sent all of his teams into action -and never in University history had any commander had the opportunity to coordinate all of his teams in their mission. For this was also the first time that four probe-teams had been sent against the same target.

"Ace of Diamonds reporting. We're at the south emergency blowout vents, awaiting the signal."

There was no visual feed, but Lieutenant Severonikos couldn't stop himself from nodding in response to the leader of the Diamonds. "Received. Stand by."

There was a pause of some seconds, which Severonikos spent efficiently by re-checking the proposed plan against all the known details of his target (and what a target! Never before in University history.. It was that kind of mission; a record-breaker).

"Ace of Hearts reporting. We've reached ledge five. Awaiting signal."

Another nod. "Received. Stand by."

"Ace of Spades reporting. We've exposed the communications-tunnel, and our sonic sensors are detecting activity."

Severonikos' brow furrowed. "Ace of Spades, can you estimate the number?"

"Negative -too much echoing. What do you advise?"

"Stand by, and report when activity disappears, as well as direction." Severonikos pressed and held a button on his communications-console. "This is Base of Aces to all Aces. I want a status- and an equipment report." He released the button and pressed another one. "Ace of Clubs, do you have any sightings?"

"Clubs here. So far no sightings. Visibility and sensors will soon drop to zero, since that sandstorm is arriving on schedule. We have maybe five minutes of clear visibility left."

"Good. Stand by."

Three minutes crept by as The status- and equipment reports trickled in. The teams were ready to go, and had no problems with their equipment.

"Spades reporting. Activity has disappeared in outward direction. Awaiting orders."

Severonikos wiped his cheek with his hand, and only then became aware of the sweat there. He glanced around the dark interior of the command rover, as if trying to memorize as much as possible of the details surrounding this moment. Behind him waited six of the University's finest (and, in four cases, most notorious) code-crackers (or technicians, as they were neutrally called), each at his or her own console. Then he pressed yet another button.

"Provost, This is Base of Aces. The cards are on the table."

Zakharov's voice sounded casual, completely failing to acknowledge the gravity of what was beginning. "Very good, Lieutenant. Proceed."

A deep breath; "This is Base of Aces. Spades, Hearts and Diamonds -go!"

Instantly, the dark interior of the rover lit up. Several displays, both two- and three-dimensional, now glowed with an electric aura. Automatic mappers, data-feeds, radio-frequency monitors, gun-cams, helmet-cams, biometric displays -even MMI-received pictures of what some of the probe-operatives actually saw- now occupied all available space from floor to ceiling.

Some monitors showed the team dubbed "Spades"-

The pit was two and a half meters deep, even in this relatively deep valley. It had been dug in record time, and on it's bottom the (actual) spades had encountered synthsteel. Now, though, plastic canisters had been placed on the bottom, and the Ace of Spades held a remote trigger. He pushed the button- the canisters detonated with a concussive sound.. and that seemed to be it. But the specifically reactive gas settled slowly into the pit and came into contact with the metal, which corroded with tremendous speed. Soon the roof collapsed, leaving a big hole. Into it the team disappeared.

"We're in. I see tubes, wires, etcetera under the grating of the floor. Anything you recognize?"

Severonikos glanced over his shoulders at one of the 'technicians', who frowned and shook his head. The Lieutenant turned back towards the monitors. "No. Scorch the place."

Another small canister was left behind as the team raced onwards along the tunnel.. A minute later it burst open relatively silently, but into a flower of superheated plasma. An instant later, everything in a two-meter radius either melted, vaporized or exploded, depending on the material's thermal qualities.


Some monitors showed the team called "Clubs"-

"Whoa, Base! We just picked up some nice seismic readings. We can't see much anything anymore, but we got the coordinates- isn't that where the Spades were digging? Was that something they did?"

"Base here. Yes, it was the Spades. We have knocked on the door, so you might see if it opens- Clubs, go!"

No matter what electronic aids you employed, visibility in a Chiron sandstorm was always abysmal. Of course, there were frequencies in the electromagnetic spectrum that saw through the storm, but those wavelengths could see through several meters of solid rock as well, and were therefore impractical for surveillance. The Clubs carried the heavy weapons, and their job was to guard the exterior of the base. Now they were moving closer to it, using the sandstorm as cover.


Some monitors showed the "Hearts"-

"Base, can you see the purpose of this room?"

"Hearts, Technician five says those structures look like the casings of network routers, but she says they're much bigger than any she has seen."

The Ace of Hearts ran her hands along the bottom edges of one of the metallic cubes. They were standing on a metal pedestal which supposedly contained the network cables and the power-supply, and their surface was perforated by tiny holes.

"There's screws here -King, open it."

The King of Hearts loosened the electric screwdriver from her belt and fastened a hexagonal head to it. Fifteen seconds later she lifted off the cover of the cube, revealing an interior of electronics.

"Shall we connect the remotes, Base?"

Severonikos glanced over his shoulder again, and got nods from all six technicians. "Base here, connect remotes to as many routers as possible."

The six crackers bent over their consoles, visibly tensing. Then, one by one, they launched into action. Two of them seemed to become raging maestros in front of their instruments -the keyboard. Three sat back, and only the random twitching of some facial muscle betrayed the torrent of commands they issued via their MMI. And one -the best, according to some- used both.

Then one of them leaned back. "Hydroponics breached. What now?"

Severonikos nodded. "Lock it with a password, but leave it otherwise alone." He turned back to the comm-link. "Hearts, reconnect remote four to another router."

Next, a cracker shouted "I'm through to life-support, but they are fighting back and I can't stay long! What will I do?"

"Crank up the heat, stop all vents and scramble the system." Again, back to the comm-link. "Hearts, reconnect remote one."

One by one, the routers were explored and their potential utilized, while the crackers fought off steadily increasing interference.


And finally, some showed the Diamonds-

The Ace of Diamonds turned towards one of his team-members. "What's the reading?"

The probe-operative was passing a small instrument back and forth over a cable in the roof. "Sixteen point nine."

"That's good enough; let's follow it. Which way?"

The team ran under the cable through a couple of turns and intersections. They were deep below ground, and the air was cool and moist. Here, the walls were natural rock rather than any treated surface. Then the cable entered a large box.

"Okay, where to now, Jack?"

The Jack used a screwdriver to open the box. Among capacitors and fuses lay several cables, seemingly mixed into a mess, which he inspected with his meter. "Damn, the main comes out of the wall. We need the roach."

The roach, a small six-legged robot connected to a thin and ultra-light cable for communications, was inserted into the small space between the main power-cable and the wall of the small hole. It travelled quickly even in that small space, and covered thirty meters in less than two minutes. The small monitor on the control unit showed a huge room on the other side, and even the poor microphones on the roach managed to capture the electric humming.

"That's our first stop." The Ace pressed a key, and the roach started to emit a powerful screech in the ultrasonic range; impossible to detect with human hearing but easily measured by the team's hand-held audiometers. "Get a minimum at the hole, and then search for stronger intensities."

The sound became steadily stronger down one corridor, and the team let themselves be guided by the rising intensity to an armored door. The door had no lock, though, and swung open easily. Inside hummed an industrial fusion reactor.

"Jack, how's the meter?"

"Doing fine at the top of the scale, sir."

"Good. Very good. Find the control-cable."

Four minutes later -twelve minutes and sixteen seconds since the start of the mission- the reactor shut down.

"Diamonds, this is Base. Good work, people! Trap the room -with the last charge wired to the reactor- and get out of there. Power is at sixty per cent, and that is still enough for standard operations, so you need to find another one."


End of Chapter 45.

	22-01-2001 10:25									#47
	Avatar Enlargement: We've got the solution

Chapter 46:Networking


Power can go unnoticed. Only after Celan's meeting with Hubris did he realize exactly how much power his status of second node-administrator lent him. The nodes of a district actually contained all administrative information about every citizen living within the district. Social, finalcial and criminal records were all present. The node-administrators headed an entire bureau dedicated to keeping the information up-to-date, and secure from unauthorized reading and editing.

Of course, Celan had until now had no reason to access or modify any data for any other reason than updating information, so he hadn't thought of the databank as a tool of power.

But now he knew his own value.

Within the six thousand homes of the Rose Petal District lived several hundred individuals suspected of anti-loyalist actions. With a few touches on his display, Celan could sort these individuals according to any conceivable trait, from intelligence through chromosomal irregularities through haircolour.

So. He wanted intelligent people merely suspected of anti-government sympathies (which was enough for punishment anyway), and in a non-descript work away from the eye of the public (like garbage-processing; a common punishment meant to break the spirit of those suspected of anti-government sympathies).

This left him with a hundred and thirteen possible candidates.

Further remove all those with psychological instabilities, or generally a low psych-rating. Also, all those who were currently under investigation by Branch of Pruning (The Cultists' bureau of domestic security) had to be removed from the list.

This left twenty candidates. Celan beheld every recorded data about these men and women. They were all very promising, but very unlikely to all feel disloyal towards Cha Dawn. Celan was at a loss as to how to proceed.

He decided to let the problem lie for a time, and restore some of his lost prestige within the bureau. He now worked with a new vigour, since work no longer was associated with dullness, and his superior, the Prime Administrator, took note.

After a week of hard work, the Prime visited Celan just before the workday was over. "Celan", he said in friendly tones, "I had almost written you off as nourishment for the worms -so I am extremely happy you have found new strength and are serving the Planet with more vigor than ever before. Keep it up, Celan, and advancement will not be far off."

He had returned to his home smiling to himself and nodding amiably to strangers, while he basked in the memory of the words.

This explained why he had not noticed the absence of the affirmative chime as he inserted his key-card into the slot meant to unlock his front door, and there hadn't been much cause for wonder, since the door had opened anyway. He had even gone a couple of steps into the darkness of his living-room before he wondered why the lights had failed to turn on.

This is why he was extremely surprised when there did appear a small point of light in his apartment -the light of a naked flame as it caressed the stub of a cigar.

Then the room was bathed in light as the lamps were finally activated. He was surrounded by at least a dozen persons, and all were armed. A man was sitting in his sofa, and was drawing some appreciating puffs from the cigar. After a short moment he waved towards a woman standing behind the couch.

"This woman here will warn me of any hostile act on your part before you even consciously consider it."

Celan stayed still, and merely blinked slowly at the man. In fact, the man's face was familiar.

"Right; now, what we want from you are answers, and in return you will be left with your life -minus any memory of this event. Starbright can take care of that as well. So cooperate quickly, and your life will be disrupted by only a small amount."

Celan nodded, and frowned. "Starbright? As in Starbright Sixteen? Then you must be her brother, Oaken Vale Sixteen. You lost your parents six years ago to the brood pits -right?"

Oaken's face darkened, and he made a move to rise, but Starbright's hand was upon his shoulder. "He still shows no hostility, Oaken. Remember to hesitate before judging someone." Her brother relaxed, and stroked her hand. "Or we are no better than the Branch of Pruning. Yes." He fixed his gaze on Celan.

"I am here since I have become aware that data concerning me and several of my friends" -he gestured across the room to the other persons present- "has been accessed in depth from the terminal you are assigned to at the Node Administration Bureau. Don't ask how I know. I was under the impression that the Pruners were getting interested in me. Are they?"

Celan shook his head. "Not as far as I know."

"Then who accessed these data during work hours, six days previously?"

"I did."

Oaken raised his eyebrows. "Really? Why? And don't try to lie. You will find it impossible, and will merely make you seem constipated. Starbright is straightening out every word in your head that might be twisted."

Celan shrugged. "I was looking for possible recruits into a little network I have been assigned the task of creating. People with potentially minimal loyalty to Cha Dawn were a priority. Useful, but not essential."

Oaken nodded, and regarded Celan in silence for a while. Then he started speaking to his sister, even while keeping Celan trapped in his gaze. "Star, why isn't he nervous? He isn't shaking, there is no sign of perspiration and his voice is strong and uncracked. Why is he not afraid?"

The woman gazed at Celan intensely, and he felt a slight itching in his neck. He scratched it on an impulse, but the feeling disappeared as soon as he moved his hand. Starbright's eyes widened in surprise.

"He is protected, Oaken. He is already under influence -and has unlimited confidence. He's been made immune to fear. And the influence is active!"

Oaken cast a quick glance at his sister, and then snapped his fingers. Several people rushed out of the appartment, while those remaining started poking into every corner and closet.

Celan drew a deep breath. "Oaken and Starbright, you have said enough to condemn yourselves -so I can be as careless. I am tasked to assemble a covert network; primarily for intelligence gathering, but my employer will allow anti-government action by it's members as long as it does not interfere with any missions assigned by said employer. It is a job with a payment. And I am confident my employer is capable of bestowing considerable protection to any members of this network. But I see now that you have a ready organization, something even better, although it makes the matter of payment unclear. I'm sure it can be sorted out, however."

He looked at them both. "What do you say? I can also protect you in my role of second node-administrator."

Still, Oaken and Starbright seemed unsure. Oaken shifted position, and spoke in a loud voice: "We'll need to talk about this. It sounds promising." Then he looked around the room as if waiting for something.

Celan nodded uncertainly. "I will tell you all that I can. My employer calls herself Hubris, and that is what she says she is fighting. I have no way of contacting her, but she has assured me it will not be necessary. She will find me when she wants to talk to me. Your payment would be three thousand morgan-credits per month."

Still, Oaken seemed to wait for something, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the group. One by one, the members of the company sent to scout the surroundings returned with nothing to report. Once the last one was back, Oaken turned to his sister again. "Is the influence still active?"

Starbright nodded. "Yes. I think it's created by someone much more skilled than me. I have rarely sensed anything like it."

Celan coughed uncertainly. "Well.. what about my offer?"

Oaken scratched his chin. "Tell miss Hubris to contact us and work out the details. And make sure she understands that assistance goes both ways in this game. Only Cha Dawn thinks people are expendable." He rose, and the entire group was gone in thirty seconds.

Celan helped himself to a glass of water and sat down in the sofa. "Well, that's a good start, I'd say" he mumbled.


End of chapter 46.

	23-01-2001 23:06									#48
	Enter the AD-FREE zone

Chapter 47: What is your Quest?


Severonikos sits back, enjoying the sensation of seeing all his teams in action at the same time. Now, when everything is running smoothly, he can relax until the teams start encountering resistance. He picks up the mission briefing on his MMI-menu, and sits back while the introduction text flickers into view. After the mission name (simply A2) and a reminder of it's level of security, there comes the text:

Target: Epsilon Center, pop. 62.400 estimate.

There is much information about the major mineral and nutritional deposits that it dominates, as well as a list of known military units defending it. All in all, it is a short list. But the next definition is the one that makes Severonikos' heart sing:

Mission: Subvert Epsilon Center.

He will make history, whether or not he succeeds. This will be the University's first conquest by probe-teams; if he fails, it would be the worst recorded probe-team disaster in history.

"Whoaaa!"

Severonikos gazes rapidly at several monitors as the sounds of gunfire crackles over the comm-link. "Who said that? Who's firing?!"

"Base, this is Ace of Spades! I just ran into some firefighters, by the look of their clothes -probably.." Here the words are cut off by more gunfire. "Holy smoke, they are armed! Take cover! Ta-" A strange hiccup sounds from the speaker as the noise exceeds the microphone's ability to capture sound. The curves on the biometric displays for the Ace of Hearts become flat.

Severonikos switches quickly to another member of the Spades while cursing with a strangled voice. "King of Spades, you're in command of the Spades now. Report."

The answer comes as a shout. "Sir, we're being pinned down by extremely heavy gunfire! We have good cover, as there's a sharp turn to the east here, but whatever they are packing chews up a great deal of the wall. It seems the preliminary intelligence missed the fact that the armed forces and the fire-fighters of Epsilon Center are one and the same! Those men pulled guns after only a moment's hesitation. What do you advise?"

"You are inside the base perimeters. Throw a small plasma-charge at them and punch a hole through the walls or floor to continue. If you find no adjacent space you'll have to come back out and try the alternative entryway."

The King of Spades grabs a small canister hooked to his belt. He pushes and turns a knob, pulls a ring until it comes loose from the canister, and lobs the canister towards the far wall of the turn, causing it to bounce and land somewhere beyond the corner. A small pop sounds, followed by a deafening roar, and the corridor is illuminated by a fierce, blue light. The light suddenly snuffs out while the roar subsides, giving room to a reddish glow and loud crackling.

"Incendiary delivered. Jack, find a way out."

The Jack of Spades closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the nearest wall. He passes both hands in broad sweeps back and forth over the wall a couple of times. Then he thumps the floor. "Right here. About half a meter of concrete, I'd say."

The King aims his gun. "Stand back, everyone." A couple of blasts rip open a crater, then a hole, in the floor. "Queen, take the point."

The Queen of spades readjusts his grip of his weapon and leaps through the hole, and is soon followed by the rest of the spades. In the command rover, Severonikos leans back with a sigh of relief.


End of chapter 47.

	25-01-2001 16:38									#49
	Inflate your Upload Space

I never saw the reason behind Lal's fanatically endorsed Council of Planet. Why, if you strive to maintain peace and goodwill between all of humanity's factions, do you create a form of planetary government where backstabbing, bribery and mistrust flourishes? But to partially redeem Lal, he did try to stop the Santiago-Yang axis from driving through the principle of assigning each faction-leader votes in proportion to their factions' populations.

I simply can't comprehend what made him try to impose such an outmoded form of democracy on persons who, each independent of the others, had chosen to rule their factions as life-long dictators.

-Reprinted by permission of Dr. Prokhor Zakharov out of 'The Memoirs of a Runner-up', book two.


Chapter 48: The Powermongers

A holoprojector flickers to life and emits a soft chime, indicating an incoming live communication. Pravin Lal raises his eyebrows and fingers some buttons on his desk. The ghostly image of one of Lal's secretaries appears.

"Commissioner, we have the entity 'Beta' on hold. He demands to speak to the chairman of the council."

"Tell him-" Lal glances down at a replica of a nineteenth-century clock on his desk. "He has twenty-two minutes."

The secretary nods and his image disappears. Lal makes a mental effort to reset his face into a neutral expression before Beta's image appears. Then he studies the hologram. It shows the image of a young woman with a great deal of indian features.

"Evening, Commissioner Lal." A deep and steady voice, with the curious lack of pitch-variations present in all merged. Lal realizes that Beta has chosen to appear in the person of this woman to unbalance him.

"Evening, Beta. I am rather busy at the moment, so I hope this will-"

"Are you too busy to prevent a war from starting?"

Lal frowns. "Don't be dramatic. What war?"

"A war between the Consciousness and the University. Normally, I would not bother to contact you, but as I am currently in a police operation against the Caretakers, I don't have the resources to retaliate at him. So- I seek alternatives."

"Retaliate, eh? What has Zakharov done?"

"Half an hour ago all communication with Epsilon Center was cut off. Since then, we've only caught sporadic and weak singals, and nearly all are either warnings of pleas for help. It seems they are under attack by terrorists, presumably to subvert the base."

"So he's sent some probe-teams and you're about to lose a base. It happens, and is quite a mild version of foul play. Why do you want to waste the council's time with that?"

"Commissioner, don't you realize? Zakharov is betraying the human species. He is in leauge with the Progenitors. We, the Cybernetic Consciousness, are the only ones strong enough to keep the Caretakers in check, precisely as you are the only ones keeping back the Usurpers. If he attacks now, or even interferes slightly, then my efforts will be inadequate, and the Progenitors will conquer the continent of Ixion."

Zakharov shifts position uneasily. "You have a point. Do you have proof?"

"No. Did you expect it? Suspicion is bad enough; I think they would operate in enough secrecy to prevent proof from ever reaching us. No, let's simply discuss his treachery in the council and force him to stop. It will be quite enough."

A moment's silence. "I will summon the Council; we will meet soon."


End of chapter 48.

	25-01-2001 16:41									#50
	Support Apolyton buy from Amazon

Chapter 49: What is your Favourite Colour?


The King of Diamonds is peering at a small monitor in his right hand while holding a minuscule camera steady in his left hand. The camera is really only a very, very small bulge at the end of a fiber-optic cable. The cable is currently bent into a turn, and the camera, at it's point, is projected ever so slightly around a corner in this underground corridor. The rest of the Diamonds wait close by, in complete silence.

No-one needs to speak out loud.

">Ace, I see three on the right of the door, and two on the left. Heavy armor and armament.<"

">Everyone getting that image? Good. You, Jack, throw a magneto-optic charge at their feet; I don't think a frag will do any good. Remember to keep your electronics turned off as it goes boom.Then we all rush them. I take the two on the left, you take the three on the right.<" The Ace tiptoes to the corner and readjusts his grip on a 'salvaged' Cyborg chaos rifle. ">Any questions? Then on with the show, Jack.<"

The Jack of Hearts pulls a rather large grenade from his belt, pulls it's pin, and tosses it around the corner. Then he flattens himself against the wall and covers his eyes with his hands.

The flash is incandescent, and the boom thunders in the corridor.

The Ace dashes round the corner, his chaos rifle wailing like a jetplane. He quickly lands several charges on the two soldiers to the right of an armored door, and their armour-suits explode. Meanwhile the King, Queen and the Jack fire their smaller, but more advanced, fusion lasers at the three soldiers on the right, whose suits are ripped to shreds.

In three seconds, all five Cybernetic soldiers are dead.

">Base, this is Ace of Diamonds. Outer guards disposed. Securing fusion reactor two.<"

The Ace walks up to the door and signals to the Jack. ">Anyone in there?<"

The Jack presses his forehead against the door and stands completely motionless for a moment. ">No guards.. but a static defense grid. Wait.. Lasers with thermal tracking, and a booby-trapped floor.<"

The Ace nods. ">Base, this is the Ace of Diamonds. Reactor two has static defenses. Suggest we sabotage; over.<"

A short pause. ">Ace of Diamonds, this is Base. Okay to spoil the reactor. We'll manage with the one you took earlier once we turn it back on.<"

The Ace grabs an EMP-grenade from his belt. ">Stand back, people, and keep away from the opening.<" He pushes a button on the wall, and the door disappears into the roof. He turns the dial on the EMP to four seconds and lobs it into the reactor chamber in a high, slow arc. Then he rams the button again, causing the door to start closing.

Inside the room, the EMP-grenade bounces once from the outer shell of the reactor and is about to land on the control-console when it detonates. All controls, inluding the power-supply to the magnets, are killed. The ring of plasma is no longer restrained, causing it to expand.. and hit the wall of the reactor.

The door to the reactor-room closes just in time; the crack from the splintering shell sounds a split-second later, and is loud enough, even through the door, to severely stun the Diamonds.

Then the lights, and almost every piece of machinery in Epsilon Center, die. Slowly, the emergency lighting turns the corridor into a maze of shadows, and a whir from the ventilation indicates that the emergency power-supplies have restarted all vital equipment.

The Ace smiles. ">Base, this is the Ace. Power is critical, and all non-essential systems should be offline.<"


In the command rover, Severonikos whoops of excitement. "We're almost there, people!" He turns to the hackers. "You all got lines open?" They nod. "Right. Bring the system to it's knees."

Into the remaining nodes of Epsilon Central are injected several pre-sentient algorithms, who quickly fight for control over each node. Once a node is conquered and it's passwords changed, the algorithms move on to assist those still fighting. In five seconds, the hackers control all of the remaining data-network.

In the command rover, a hacker looks up at Severonikos and nods. "We're done. There's no resistance left."

Severonikos glances at the mission briefing, which contains, among other things, a full account of professor Lewis Parks' description of the Cybernetic civil war. "Let's see if they are as crazy as we give them credit. Upload the messages." The hackers set to work, and soon every network-node still operational in Epsilon Central display orders to transfer command to the University.

Inside Epsilon Central, the Ace of Hearts looks up, startled, at the ceiling as an obviously automatic voice starts to relay the orders to surrender. "Citizens, Epsilon Central has fallen. To ensure the safety of the Consciousness, lay down your arms and await orders from the University officials. It is useless to continue fighting.." And so on. She picks up her comm-link.

"Base, this is Ace of Hearts. The message is being declared over the loudspeakers. What next?"

"Ace of Hearts, we need to test if they're actually open to surrender, or if this strategy was useless from square one. Try to make contact with the citizens and see if they follow orders. Act as if you own the place. Which you do, indirectly. Meanwhile, the clubs will enter through the main airlocks and set up a temporary command-post. Head towards them, once you've made peaceful contact with the natives."

Ace of Hearts closes the comm-link and snorts. "Come on, Hearts, we need to see if the locals still want to kill us."

Grimacing, she leads the way out through a door and into the base proper; the cavernous central chamber containing all the actual habitation- and administrative structures. The team emerges on a landing about six meters up in the air, with paths heading off in both directions along the wall. A spiral staircase not far off connects the catwalk to the floor below. In here, the darkness is almost total. Only a few emergency lights at the entrances to various buildings illuminate the space below. They shine on small parts of a great crowd. It is obvious, from the noise, that the entire hall is filled by a sea of people, unsure about what they should be doing.

">Base, link me to the public announcement-system.<" The pre-recorded voice dies away.

"Testing, testing.. Attention, citizens of Epsilon Central. You are now citizens of the University. A general curfew will start in half an hour, during which you will be required to stay in your living-quarters. Anyone wishing to leave his or her quarters during the curfew will contact the University officials via the network terminals in your living-quarters. All military- and police officers will report at the main airlocks in ten minutes' time. Proceed to your quarters in good order. That is all."

The noise from the floor below drops considerably. From the few patches of light, the Ace of Hearts can see that her message is being obeyed. She shakes her head and smiles.

"Base, they are peaceful like lambs. The Epsilon Central is ours. See you at the main doors."


End of chapter 49.

	28-01-2001 00:04									#51
	Support Apolyton, buy Call to Power 2

Chapter 50:The Branch


Celan had woken up this morning with the knowledge clear in his mind. Hubris is coming. At first, he had thought of calling the first node-administrator and report that he was ill, but he thought better of it. After all, he didn't know when and where she'd arrive. Only the knowledge was there, firm as a rock. Hubris is coming. Be prepared. He'd managed to focus his mind on work, but once he got home the thought again dominated. And it's presence was growing. Hubris is coming. Be prepared. Summon the others.

Summon the others! Once that thought cleared in his mind, his hand darted to the comm-link. Ten minutes later, his apartment is once again heavily guarded by Oaken's associates.

"Where is she? When will she be here?"

"She's close. She will be here soon."

Oaken stands up and starts pacing back and forth. "I'm not a patient man, mr. Barr. The Pruners know my scent, and if I stay in one place for too long I will be revealed to them. Starbright helps, but she cannot hide me perfectly. Somehow, they always find me despite her best efforts."

Celan raises his eyebrows. "What's this 'scent'? Do they track people by smell?"

Oaken grimaces impatiently. "No, no. Some twenty years ago, Dawn's brightest researchers realized that the entire planet is psychotropic. To you and me, what it means is that the local xenofungus reverberates to the presence of a localized mind, like mindworms or humans. They resonate for several hours or days, depending on the power of the mind and the time said mind stayed in the vicinity. Now, each mind causes unique disturbances, if you will, and these can be tracked. The Branch, when I was first suspected of being anti- Cha Dawn, recorded my particular signature, and they can use it to track me down with frightening ease. Starbright can scramble these disturbances to some extent, but apparently the Branch can also detect that."

"Oh." Celan smiles apologetically. "I didn't know that."

"Neither did I", says Hubris from the corner she has been standing in.

Starbright and Oaken fly simultaneously up from the sofa, and several of the guards half-aim their weapons. Celan is the first to regain control of his tongue. "Why- Hubris, I'm sorry, I didn't notice you-"

She raises a hand to silence him. "You weren't supposed to. I know the art of staying unnoticed, and I use it frequently. You wouldn't have paid attention to me, had I chosen to sit on your head."

Starbright's eyes are wide. "I have never heard of such a skill!"

Hubris smiles. "There are many powers known among the citizens of the Cult that you have heard nothing of, Starbright. What psionic skills you have been taught is one way to differentiate between your castes." She shrugs. "In any case, I know many others using this skill, but not as extensively as I do. But enough of me." She nods at Oaken. "How many members does your team have? I need to know what I'll pay you."

"I have twenty-two -eh, associates, so your offer of three-thousand morgan-creds is a little-"

"No, no. I offer three thousand per person."

You can almost hear Oaken's train of thought backtrack. "Oh. Well. But payment in morgan-creds is impractical. We need weapons, equipment and food. And places to hide. Morgan-credits will get us none of these things."

"Very well. I can provide you with the first three. You will need to find your own hiding-places, as I rarely need to hide out of sight. Is this a deal?"

Oaken nods eagerly. "It will do. Now, what do you have in mind?"

Hubris smiles. "Actually, I was a little unsure until you explained about the psychic scents. I want everything the Branch of Pruning knows about that. And I know how to get it. I'm planning to have as many of their operatives as possible chasing you."

Oaken pales. "What?"

"You'll create a diversion. We'll plan something loud and spectacular in the vicinity of Cha's temple, followed by a swift chase through the streets of the city. I'll have a cargo-lifter waiting at one of the airports that will take you away from your chasers. In the meanwhile, I will assault the BP:s headquarters. It shouldn't be too hard, once you are chased by every military and police in Dawn of Planet. Of course, we need a big diversion. I can tell you have an idea forming."

Oaken looks as if he'll doubt his own words. "We could assassinate Cha Dawn. That's what I call a diversion."

Suddenly, Starbright looks around wildly. "Someone's activated a beacon!"

***

Outside, with his ear pressed to the back door, William 'Stout Branch' nineteen gazes down at the blinking psi-beacon in his hand. He can't understand from where it came, or why he activated it. But he is sure of one fundamental wrongness, and he repeats it like a mantra under his breath. "Planning to assassinate Cha Dawn is high treason. Planning to assassinate Cha dawn.."

He feels his mind scatter like a school of frightened fish as something large rises from the depths, which is what is actually happening. Out from his subconscious rise thoughts both new and old. His uncertainty melts away together with his fake identity, as he realizes his name is William 'Firm Root', ninth level officer in the Branch of Pruning, given an implanted personality to enable him to infiltrate a group of terrorists. He knows now that the moment has come to capture them all, together with their potential employer.

And that's the last thing he thinks before the back door is kicked into his head, causing him to faint.

Hubris shoves the door hard against his prone body, and manages to open it enough for her to slip through. She pushes him off to one side and opens the door wide. "Go on. Down this alley, over that fence and into the sewers. You should be safe, as long as you keep an eye out for the occasional errant mindworm."

Oaken and starbright with their team rush away, but Celan hesitates. "Won't you follow?"

Hubris shakes her head. "I must know how good they are before I try to infiltrate their headquarters. Now go! Follow Oaken, and I'll contact you when I can."

He nods and sprints towards the fence. He glances back once before he leaps over the fence, and sees Hubris carrying the unconscious man into his apartment.

***

William 'Firm Root' sits up with a start, and nearly bumps his head into that of Reverend Marthens, who is bent over him. The reverend seems displeased as he straightens up, and William groans silently. Then he looks around; he's still in the apartment of that node-administrator. There is no sign of the others.

"Reverend, I-"

The reverend quickly motions him to be silent, and then casts a searching glance across the room. William realizes with a glimmer of hope that he is hunting someone.

Then he remembers how the reverend -a psi-tracker- hunts, and looks down. Sure enough, the apartment's floor is crawling with the individual members of the Reverend's pet mindworm-boil. Under the command of the reverend, the worms are silent and display great caution in their motion. One brushes against William's hand and twitches aside, as if the contact had been painful.

I can't have failed too bad, William thinks, or I would by now be a brainless incubator for the Reverend's brood. He stands up and brushes himself off, while scanning the apartment more carefully. Now, what had he heard.. ah, yes! He signals the reverend that he has something on his mind, and feels the familiar, ghostly crawling of his skin as Marthens rummages around his surface thoughts. He concentrates wildly on the discussion of Hubris' appearance that he overheard through the door.

He feels the Reverend lock on to the memory, and sees his eyes widen. For a moment, Marthens' entire figure radiates the feeling you get when you realize you've probably been observed while doing something utterly stupid for half an hour. Then he clenches his jaw and signals to William to leave, while on his silent command the mindworms clear a path to the door. Gratefully, william rushes out of the house.

Once outside, he sees the familiar APCs of the Branch's anti-terrorist unit, and sees a lieutenant waving frantically for him to take cover. He sprints towards the APC and dives behind it.

The Lieutenant grins at him. "Lucky bastard, you aren't even drooling. We all guessed you had been fried by -whoever's in there- when Reverend Li reported your presence."

"You mean Reverend Marthens, right?"

"No. It was Reverend Li who originally stormed the building. When he'd been in there for thirty seconds, our meters registered a spike on the Keldhart-scale, reaching a nice and pure seven."

"Seven!"

"Yes. To be frank, I half-expected the roof to be blown clear off, but as it turned out the attack was purely telepathic; it was enough to vegetate Li. Marthens brought him out. He's being rushed to the hospital as we speak, but no-one really belives he'll ever be sentient again."

"What's the best Marthens has managed?"

"Well, I hear he managed nearly eight Kays while high on adrenaline and steroids, but that's just rumours. So, to say the least, he's worried in there."

An urgent beeping sounds from the chest pocket of the Lieutenant. He quickly fishes out a small cube, that seems to be a simple display. It traces a slowly-climbing line, while a number in the upper left corner shows the current value. It reads 1,4 and is slowly climbing through the tenths.

The Lieutenant waves wildly to the rest of the team, and every man seems to tense. Then he whispers to William.

"He's spotted our perp and is warming up. You'll see; the Reverend usually goes on the offensive once he reaches two kays. Hold on to your thoughts."

1,9...2,0...2,1..

William has never heard of artillery based on chemical explosives; Planet's artillery has been magnetic- or plasma-based for nearly a century. So he can't know that the sensation he feels, once the psionic battle starts, could best be compared to standing close to the muzzle of a really big cannon as it fires, minus all sound. There is only a tremendous shock, that seems to disarray every organ inside him. His ears seem to pop, his forehead feels like it will burst, and bright blotches of colour streak across his vision. And before he has time to re-establish his grip on reality, there is another shock.. and another..

He quickly loses all conscious thought, and is reduced to passive sensation. He realizes that he is lying, face down, and manages to raise his head. In front of him, the Lieutenant is unconscious, with his eyes open and a string of drool from his chin to the ground. A little way from his open hand lies the cube, with it's display pointing skywards. With a light-headed, detached feeling, William watches the curve as it dips to below three, and then turns around once more, to jump above eight Keldharts. Then the last shock hits him, and shatters what's left of his sanity.


***


William 'Stout Branch' feels his forehead hit the ground, and he opens his eyes. His body feels wrapped in needles, and his sight keeps wandering, but he manages to push himself up against the side of an APC. At the second attempt, he even manages to stand up. He staggers around, gazing slack-jawed at all the unconscious people, completely at a loss about what has happened, until he comes to face Celan's apartment. Dead mindworms litter the front door, and lying with his back over the doorstep, eyes and mouth gaping at the sky, is Reverend Marthens. He is obviously, even for William's fragmented mind, stone dead. Standing over his body and leaning against the doorframe is a woman. She looks deathly tired.

William stares at her, for a moment struck completely dumb. Then he raises his left hand and points at her.

"..br-s?" He slurs. "Hhh..brehhs?"

She finally hears him. She looks at him sharply, turns around and staggers into the building, disappearing from view.

William sits down and stares after her for a long time, at first thinking about nothing special. Soon, though, his real personality slowly reawakens, and it's time to count the dead and mentally wounded.


End of chapter 50.

	30-01-2001 01:07									#52
	Enter the AD-FREE zone

Chapter 51:Divide et Impera


A holoprojector bursts into action, displaying the rotating logo of the University, superimposed by data about an incoming live communication. Zakharov notes that it is from Lal, but in his position as chairman of the Council, not the usual one of commissioner for the Peacekeepers.

He puts on a smile opens the channel, and notes that Lal is indeed clad in the official uniform he uses while the Council of Planet is in session. "Lal, what a pleasant surprise. Has someone decided to convene the council?"

"The council has, in fact, been gathered for the last two hours. We'd now request your attendance."

Sensing trouble, Zakharov looks at Lal uncertainly. "I'm sorry, there must have been a glitch in my lines of communication; I have not heard of any previous request."

"There has not been any previous request, Zakharov. Now, if you will-"

"Wait, wait. Last time I read the U.N. charter, as revised by you two years ago, all members of the council must be present before it has legal power. Why wasn't I called?"

"If you'd have studied the charter in closer detail, you'd find that when we are discussing future scenarios concerning a certain faction, that faction's leader does not have to be present until the preliminary discussions are over. This is now the case, and we request your further attendance. Note, that if the timing is improper, the charter states that you can decline to participate, in which case we can continue without you."

"The mindworm's teeth you can! Send the frequency."

While the virtual room of the Council appears around him, Zakharov punches in the code to lock his door and display a 'do not disturb' -message. Then he looks around the council, now twelve members strong. Even his occasional allies look somewhat sternly at him, and looks from others, like Miriam, are decidedly hostile behind their neutral expressions. Zakharov realizes he is at a huge psychological disadvantage thanks to his late arrival.

"Who summoned this council, and what is the agenda?" He can't avoid sounding brusque.

Beta rises. "I did. The only item is your apparent betrayal of the human species."

Zakharov tilts his head. "Against the human species? Explain."

"In subverting the base Epsilon Central, rightfully mine, you have deprived me of an important link in my chain of logistics as I combat the Progenitor menace, manifest in the Caretakers. Unless they are stopped, all of humanity might very well face slavery at the hands -or claws- of an alien master -or worse, extinction. Your dishonorable act has considerably hindered my efforts in what has turned out to be a very evenly-matched fight. Would you not say that you therefore are hurting the chances of all humanity? Would that not be outright treachery of your species?"

"Well, no." Zakharov is still studying Miriam. Good old one-track Miriam. One God, one Truth, one Track which you chug along. Let's see if I can't give you another Truth and force you to change track.

A general babble has broken out, and Lal rises. "Order, please. Zakharov, you'd better explain yourself."

"First off, the Cybernetic Consciousness is not the only faction on Ixion strong enough to check the advance of the Caretakers. Second, were this war so even and so critical for the future of humanity, why isn't Beta asking for assistance? The answer is simple; he is disguising a downright atrocious blizkrieg intended to support his imperialistic fancies as a crusade for humanity. Well, I'll be the first to caution you; there is nothing 'noble' or 'holy' in his attack. Did you know, for example, that he is using mortar shells filled with ozone? I'm not sure you know what effect that has on a progenitor, but I have an instructive little recording here, which-"

Lal raises a hand. "I'm quite sure it won't be necessary to display that recording. We are all well aware of the basic chemical differences between humans and progenitors."

Zakharov blinks at him for a moment. "In other words, you have just eaten and wouldn't want to see something.. unsettling. It doesn't matter. There is one thought I'd like to present to the council."

Lal nods, and Zakharov takes a deep breath. "Beta is a fine one to pretend he's the guardian of humanity. He is merged with an algorithm -basically, an advanced computer-program- to such a degree that there is no discernible psychological or physiological boundary between him and the algorithm. On several occasions I have heard him voice the advantages of this state with such a fervor that he sounds like some half-deranged prophet foaming about some outlandish religion."

He observes the council while he takes another breath. Yes, Miriam, that little start tells me all I need to know. But I'm not done yet, and you are not the only member of this council. "If he had his way, every human on Planet would be part of the Cybernetic Consciousness, and merged with his or her personal splinter of it. He calls it greater freedom, but I call it imprisonment within the cold laws of logic. I have on several occasions benefitted greatly from that unpredictability and contrariness to logic that stems from what he frowns upon as 'Right-Brain thinking', in a direct echo of his predecessor, Aki Zeta-Five, and I am quite convinced it is a major and crucial part of humanity."

Another breath. Some members of the council now have quite unreadable expressions, and Zakharov wonders if he's going too far. But he is determined to finish. "So, let's see.. He accuses me of betraying humanity, does he? Well, let's define that. Do we, as you may think I would do, try to define humanity by our genetic makeup? Folly, for several species of apes, like the chimpanzee, would be more than ninety-nine per cent human in that case. And we have all experimented with improving our genome, haven't we?" His gaze sweeps over the council, and only Lal challenges it. "So let's turn away from matter completely. Let's look at the mind; the brain. Now there, despite a less-than-one per cent difference in genome, the human is easily distinguished from our closest simian relatives. We are unique, there."

He shakes his head. "But what of the Cybernetic Consciousness, then? Devoid of all emotion. Exclusively devoted to rational, logical thought, where the slightest irregularity is mercilessly erased. My fellow leaders of Planet, does this remind you of Humanity? Not in the slightest. The chimpanzee is a closer match to the human in this case. So, how can I betray Humanity, when my target can scarcely be called human anymore?!"

The last shouted sentence is matched by an equally impressive uproar from the Council. Beta, a curious expression on his face, terminates his connection to the council and vanishes silently. Lal, a nice crimson colour in his face, shouts down the rest of the members, and when a modicum of silence is reached he turns to Zakharov, eyes flashing with rage.

"Zakharov, you may consider all charges of treason against humanity withdrawn, but be aware that further speeches of that nature may quickly lead to similar accusations. Personally, I have always defined humanity by adaptability and an urge to experiment with new things, and by those standards the Cybernetic Consciousness is very much human. I suggest you keep your opinions on the matter to yourself in the future! This council is over!"

Zakharov turns off the holoprojector, and the gloom of his office surrounds him once again. He chuckles half-heartedly for a while.

"Ooops!"


End of chapter 51.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 29, 2001).]

	31-01-2001 19:30									#53
	Remove this text

The Cult of Planet, now.. I could even then plainly see that they would be high on Beta's list of 'things to kill'. A colorful blend of mass psychosis and cult mentality had formed a nation that was vibrant with life and power, and who ranked as one of the middle-weight factions of Planet. In the later stages, they even surpassed the University in population and landmass, coming close to the Cyborgs and the Usurpers...

-Reprinted by permission of Foreman Domai out of 'When Our Work Was Done', chapter three.

Of course, they (the cultists) were also my favourite proof of some of my more cynical views on humanity and it's paradoxal nature; I once had the pleasure of meeting a diplomat from Cha's court that was a stupendously talented haiku poet. But for some reason she boasted more of how many workers she had condemned to the brood pits in Cha's name...


-Reprinted by permission of Prokhor Zakharov out of 'Myths and Monsters of the Second Age', chapter nine.


Chapter 52:Into the Eye


Cha Dawn closes the connection to the virtual Council Room. Around him, a smattering of applause sounds. His chief advisor, Lord Ferrel, approaches his cushioned divan, kneels and bows his head.

"An excellent performance, my lord. The glory of Planet has once again been upheld in the Council."

Cha Dawn's eyes narrow. "Ferrel, I did not utter a word in the Council. You are babbling nonsense."

With a barely perceptible glance sideways, Ferrel signals the other advisors, who also approach Cha Dawn respectfully while praising his patience, his regal presence, his bearing -and so on. Eventually, Cha is suitably flattered and waves a hand at them. "Enough. Let's proceed with the business of the day."

Ferrell sits down cross-legged, and is immediately imitated by the rest of the advisors. "Lord, High Reverend Willard begs you to favour her with an audience. She has urgent matters of security to discuss."

Cha nods. "Very well."

Ferrel turns around towards the double doors at the far end of the hall, where two guards are positioned. "Send for High Reverend Willard!"

One of the guards opens the door closest to him and booms, "The Voice of Planet, the Prophet to Our People, Emperor Cha Dawn commands the presence of High Reverend Willard, commander of the Branch of Pruning!"

Willard enters, and immediately kowtows by falling to her knees and pressing her forehead to the floor. Then she stands up, walks halfway to the divan and kowtows again. Then she stands up and waits.

Cha regards her for a short moment, and then waves a hand. "Speak your errand", Ferrel commands.

"Lord, a powerful terrorist is at large within the city at this moment. We know only that she is an amazingly strong telepath, and that she calls herself 'Hubris'. She has already defeated two of our best Reverends, and her current whereabouts are unknown. She has been gathering a network of spies and terrorists, and is known to have planned your assassination. I ask the assistance and wisdom of Planet to locate her, before she is able to cause more harm."

"Do you have her scent?"

"Yes. Here it is." Willard holds up a transparent crystal, in which is embedded a strand of xenofungus. Ferrel takes it from her and delivers it to Cha Dawn.

Cha fingers the crystal for a moment. "This is a very strong and clear signature. It shouldn't be hard to locate anyone with this kind of scent. Why do you bother me?"

"Lord, we suspect Hubris has learned how to camouflage her scent. She is masterful, and leaves very little trace."

Cha thinks for a while. "A bad hunter chases his prey. A good hunter sits in one place and waits, for he is sure his prey will pass by the place he has chosen." He focuses on Willard. "Go to the Plaza of Flowering and erect a hidden surveillance there. Have your people pose as devotees, but make sure nothing seems out of the ordinary and stay well away from the foci. Make sure you are prepared when she arrives. Oh, I want to see her once she is caught. Now go."

Willard kowtows again and leaves in a hurry. Cha turns to his advisors. "I must communicate with Planet. All errands are postponed until I call for you. Now clear this hall."

The call goes out, "The Voice is calling Planet! All meetings are postponed!" His advisors quickly exit the hall, followed by the guards. As soon as the door is closed and Cha is alone, he manipulates some controls. Out of the floor around the divan rise several metallic pillars, about one meter high, arranged in concentric circles that become denser towards the center. Then gigantic screens descend in front of all the windows, plunging the room into total darkness.

Cha concentrates...


***


A middle-aged woman clad in the plain orange and purple ceremonial robes of the Cult passes by a doorway and stops. In the doorway a figure in a similar robe is hunched over itself. The woman kneels down. And stretches out a hand.

"Are you all right?" She brushes back the hood and reveals the tired face of a young woman. "Oh dear oh dear.. what hardships you pilgrims must endure, I don't know.. Have you visited one of the congregations yet?"

The young woman shakes her head feebly. "No.."

"Well, I'll help you there. They'll have a nice line of soup and bread for you blessed folk from afar, and it will strengthen you while we wait for a sermon to begin. Oh, my name is Rebecca, but you can call me Becky." She helps the young woman stand up.

"Rebecca? That's my name, too.."

"Really? What a coincidence! You can call me Snowdrop then. Usually, I'd go to the Plaza of Meditation, which is closest, but now that I've met you I'm going to the Plaza of Flowering. It's a bit crowded at this time of the day, but it's also closest to the palace. Once, while I was there even, Cha Dawn himself appeared on one of the balconies to talk to the people! I was so excited..." Snowdrop chatters on while leading Rebecca through the streets.

After some fifteen minutes they come to the edge of a large open area, thronged with people. There is a long queue of people leading to a checkpoint, but Snowdrop walks directly past it and up to the guard.

"Hello, Ash! How are you doing today?"

"Thank you, Becky, I'm doing fine. Who's your friend?"

"A pilgrim! I picked her up in the Rose Petal District, where the poor creature was resting in a doorway. Her name is Rebecca! Can you believe it!" Snowdrop beams.

Ash chuckles. "Well that's a coincidence! Let's see your papers, ladies, and I'll let you through."

Rebecca pats her robe, and then pulls out a wad of papers from an inner pocket. She hands it to the guard, who glances through it.

"Welcome to the Plaza of Flowering, miss Kojl. You may be in luck, ladies; Cha Dawn is communicating with Planet right now, and he's usually in a preaching mood once he's done." He nods his head at the shuttered windows of the palace. "One word of caution, though; I know you pilgrims like to sit as close to the foci as you dare, but that's not advisable while he and Planet are discussing. The food queue is by that fountain over there. May your stay be enlightening!"

Snowdrop pats Rebecca on the shoulder. "You just go and enjoy the food, my dear. I want to see if some friends I know are around. See you later, maybe!"

She wanders off to find her friends, and Hubris walks gratefully up to the end of the food-queue. In five minutes, she is carrying a plastic bowl filled with a thick and steaming soup, plus a combined fork and spoon. As she eats, she inspects her surroundings: The Plaza is a rough trapezoid, with the shortest side abutting on the palace. Various buildings with monumental architecture confine the Plaza on the other three sides, with several streets between them, and hubris notes with some curiosity that none of the buildings have their fronts, or any entrances or windows at all, towards the Plaza. The former is true for the palace as well, whose unbroken walls stand at least three floors high, with three guarded balconies jutting out from the upper third of the wall. Some trees and bushes overhanging it's top indicate that the ground is much higher on the other side.

At first Hubris thinks the Plaza interior is featureless, but the movement of the crowd reveals glimpses of several groupings of short, stubby metal pillars, obviously arranged in some concentric pattern. Also, the tiling on the ground is made of varying colour; Hubris is sitting on some almost black tiles arranged in a circular fashion, but disrupting this monotony are a few white tiles not far off. Hubris can also see, among the legs of the crowd, a sharp border beyond which the tiles seem to be pinkish.

It dawns on her, with some unpleasantness, that she is sitting in the pupil of a huge eye. And she knows of only one person that has pink irises. A queasy feeling of being observed descends upon her, but she forces herself to continue eating. The soup is quite good, and the warmth is pleasant, causing her to relax. When the soup is finished, she is content to sit and rest, head bowed by drowsiness, quite secure by the anonymity of being part of an immense crowd.

She nods off into sleep, and dreams.


***


Harm her not we.

"But she wants to harm me, Planet! I am your friend, and I am special to you, why won't you protect me?"

Protect you we. Harm her not you. Harm her not we. Yes you special. She special.

Cha pauses to rethink. With so much of his conscious mind in direct contact with the immensity of Planet, this is a difficult task to manage without any of it being 'audible' to the giant mind.

"She is also special? I thought I was your friend, Planet! What will you do to help me?"

Like this song not we.

"What song?"

I me I me I me I me I me..

"All right, all right. You will not harm her. What can you do, then?"

Tell her harm not Cha we. She in focus, talk we.

Cha makes an effort not to let his victorious -and devious- smile shine in his mind.

"I will bring her to a focus, and you can talk to her. All right?"

Yes. More poems made we. Cha listen?

"Not now. Not now. When you have talked to her."


***


Hubris awakens with a start and a thought-scattering headache. The drawn-out rumble from a big gong is still echoing through the plaza. She stands up, and sees how everybody is peering towards the palace's balconies.

She follows their gaze, in time to see a small figure in pink and gold emerge, followed by eight persons in robes of varying shades and mixes of orange, brown and purple. A loud droning explodes among the crowd, and Hubris can barely make out the word "Chaaaaa..". Then a man by her side sits down on the ground and starts to slur, at an incredible speed, "Chadawnchadawnchadawnchadawn.." while he sways rythmically back and forth.

Cha raises his arms, and the noise weakens somewhat. Then he speaks, and his voice booms in the entire Plaza. "Children of Planet, gather at the foci to receive your blessings, or cast away this illusion of life to embark upon the greater path we all shall tread upon!"

The noise becomes a roar, then almost a solid presence. Slowly, the seeds of rythm and structure emerge, and while Cha Dawn's name is shouted hoarsely from a hundred thousand devout throats, the crowd begins to gather around the four foci, but only a few take up position immediately next to them and no-one ventures inside the formations. Hubris finds that she is staring, apparently right through the wall of bodies, into the center of the closest focus. She tears her gaze away with an effort of will and notices that the babbling man has fallen onto his back and is now rocking from side to side. His mouth is foaming and his eyes are rolling, and the actual words are now only made out with difficulty.

On an impulse, she pushes aside vision and lets her mind sense that of the man. His mind seems to pulse in pace with his rocking, with a weaker pulse corresponding to his furious rambling. He is still accelerating, while his mind is losing all it's normal barriers. She realizes he is quickly falling into a trance, with his mind completely open to any external psionic influence.

She feels, as if reading the notes of a play, that this external influence is only moments away. She switches back into normal vision and finds, to her surprise, that she has walked up to the crowd surrounding the closest focus. They are again watching Cha Dawn.

Cha raises his arms, holds them still for a moment, and then lets them drop. Up from somewhere within the palace rises a huge, swirling cloud that is, at fist glance, strangely transparent. Then it comes closer, and Hubris recognizes it as one of the largest swarms of Locusts of Chiron she has ever seen. Three similar swarms are also flying through the air, and by now descending towards the foci. They do not land completely, even though the focus is covered with them, but instead they begin to fly around in the air immediately above the foci, tracing beautiful and complex patterns through the air. The effect is mesmerizing.

The noise from the masses of cultists increases yet more, into a throbbing physical force. The crowd closest to Hubris begins to shift, with some people slowly walking away from it with their faces locked in religious extacy, and their eyes curiously blank and glazed. They generally stop and collapse after only a few steps, but some walk further away and sit down, beginning to shout out at random or chant at a furious pace. Hubris finds that she is pressing forward, towards the focus.

She stops dead as she reaches the inner edge of the crowd.

***

Cha smiles fiercely, and his eyes flash. He rests his hands on the balustrade and lets his gaze sweep over the crowd. "She's down there somewhere, already close to a focus. What a presence!"

Lord ferrel leans to his side. "Lord, what do you intend?"

Cha half-turns towards the advisor. "I intend to test her. I remembered your teachings on the.. what was it? Ah, yes. The Dark Ages, and the witch-hunts the superstitious people would conduct. Especially, their 'foolproof' tests and trials were very amusing. But I had a flash of inspiration; we don't have a nice big bonfire, but we might substitute.."

Ferrel swallows heavily. "Honoured lord of the flower, remember your promise to Planet; you can't kill Hubris just like that without angering our benefactor and protector."

For a moment, rage flashes onto Cha's normally composed face. "You are questioning my wisdom, Lord Ferrel? No? I won't kill her. And if Planet does, then am I to blame?"

Ferrel bows deeply. "Your wisdom is infinite, child of Planet."

Cha nods. "Indeed. Now for you, Hubris. Step into the focus like a good girl." His eyes lock on to a point beyond normal human vision, and for some reason his breath condenses as if he was enveloped in a personal bubble of freezing air. One more whisper escapes his lips. "Into the focus. Into the eye, Hubris..."

***

The ground, inside and immediately surrounding the focus, is covered with locusts, and the air above it is choked with them. From this close, Hubris can hear a gentle rustling, as of wind shaking the leaves of a tree, as their wings happen to meet in the air. Some people slowly approach the focus until they are a mere arm's reach from the swirling cloud. There they stand absolutely still for a moment, and then stumble backwards and fall. They rise again after a short while, some in tears of emotion, and the crowd parts to let them walk away.

Then Hubris sees a woman walk up to the focus. She stops closer than anyone else before her; one of the locusts actually brushes against her hair. She is off to the right, so Hubris can watch her face. It is locked into a blank neutral, but her eyes flash of undeterminable emotions. She slowly raises her arms until they are horizontal, and then begins to dance by shifting weight from one foot to the other in small skips. Suddenly she leaps into the focus, and is covered by locusts. Hubris fails to catch any further glimpse of her, or what's left of her, but in her mind's eye she suddenly recognizes the woman. It was Rebecca Snowdrop.

Then a flood of raw psionic energy envelops Hubris. To her fatigued mind it is drugging, and what's left of her self-consciousness is washed away. She almost smiles as a man hurls himself into the focus while laughing happily, followed by another outpouring of psionic energy.

Then she senses a faint mental tugging. She reflects, in the light-headed way of the drunken, that she is in complete control and can stop whenever she wants to -but there is no reason to stop, is there? She takes a step forward. And another. In front of her and to the right, a woman falls backwards from the focus, and her head lands on the edges of Hubris' robe. She watches the woman's face for a while -it is quite blissful, she thinks- but then she senses the tugging again, stronger than before.

She stops at arm's length from the closest pillar of the focus. She is now so close to the swarm that she can see the the light from Centauri A shimmer on individual locusts as they fly past her face. She can also see some features within the circle itself, like some locusts gnawing on a ribcage. It lies, Hubris thinks, about where Snowdrop had fallen.

But that's not concerning, since none of this really concerns Hubris. She is only watching, clearly not a part of anything. She can stop whenever she likes.

Almost exactly on the other side of the focus, another man literally dives into the cloud of insects. Hubris can see the locusts scatter so they won't be crushed beneath him as he lands, and then he is also covered by them. She fancies she can hear a faint crunching sound. By now several people are standing by the focus at the same time, and about one in ten hurl themselves forward instead of falling back.

The view changes, not by her own will, to that of the mind's eye. She is standing on a vast, featureless plain that is vaguely illuminated with a grey light. Nothing can be seen on it, all the way to the horizon, except dust, rocks and ice. She sees her breath condense in the freezing air. But right at her feet there is a large pit, without apparent bottom. A soft, warm breeze blows from it, carrying with it a faint smell of strawberries and the wisps of tinkly, happy music. She realizes that this is not real, but warmth, food and entertainment is better than this cold gloom, no matter how phantasmal both alternatives are.

So the choice is clear. She steps forward, over the edge of the pit. She stumbles as her foot hits a surface, contrary to expectations, but she manages to take some staggering steps and remain standing, if such words can be used while falling down a pit. She stretches out her arms to revel in the feeling of the wind, but is disappointed as there is no sensation but an increasing heaviness.

Then her normal vision cuts back in, and she sees the concentrically arranged pillars of the focus. From inside the focus. She feels again the weight on her arms, and turns her head. Worming their way along her arms, shoulders, neck and head, taking off and landing, are dozens of Locusts of Chiron.

Then darkness swallows her once more.


End of chapter 52.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 31, 2001).]

	02-02-2001 15:05									#54
	Support Apolyton or Terrorists Win

Chapter 53:Tyrant


"Someone has been eavesdropping on our network nodes."

Zakharov raises an eyebrow. "Hmm? What else is new? I should be furious, I really should. But it has happened too frequently. I'm merely gravely disappointed, once again."

Captain Steiner shifts position nervously. "Their interest is new. What they took has no scientific value. They copied some stored footage from a surveillance camera in the red lights -district."

Zakharov chuckles. "Sounds like young, bright rebels looking for some cheap entertainment to me."

"Hardly, sir. The camera shows a monorail station, or more specifically, the network terminal of the station." The captain takes a deep breath. "At sixteen terran hours yesterday, some C-I agents apprehended a morganite businessman accessing that terminal. He was, unknowingly, uploading a new version of the Algorithm, and I wanted to stop him ASAP, as well as trace the Algorithm back to it's source. It was that footage they took."

"Ah. Well." Zakharov sits down, his face unreadable. "That.. was bad. Do you have any idea whose agents it was?"

"The m.o. suggests the Morganites, sir, but I think that ultimately the blame should fall on the Cyborgs. I think we've been doubly set-up here, and that we have failed to understand the true nature of the problem."

"I abhor cryptic statements, captain!"

"The facts are suspicious, Provost. For instance, the reason he stayed so long at the node-terminal was that he had trouble with the interface. I have ordered tests on the terminal and his MMI, and both have performed flawlessly. Further, the man's MMI is of Morgan design. It's electronic, with an electronic merger-upgrade.. and a sleeper-algorithm. I fail to see the logic in that, since it would require surgery to install the necessary MMI-upgrade, and it is too dangerous to waste on sleeper algorithms. Anyway, I suspect that an active algorithm is equally capable of infecting a network node. I don't know what to make of this, Provost."

"I think I do." Zakharov's fingers dart over the inlaid keyboard on his desk. "Observe this."

The holoprojector by the desk flickers to life, and the rotating logo of a morganite holovision-channel appears. It disappears quickly, to be replaced by a corporate logo, while in the background some upbeat music starts. Then an announcer greets the viewers.

Do you have an appendicitis? Is your nail-polish flaking off? Do you want to upgrade your MMI, but don't have time for surgery? Or do you think you need to lose a couple of inches around the waist? Well hesitate no further, for Morgan Industries, in cooperation with Margolith Technologies, has brought you the 'D-X 3000 deluxe' super-surgery-unit! Capable of performing any cosmetic procedure, and all light and medium surgical procedures, at the same time and with staggering precision, it will save you several hours of work and hospital time every week! Just find your closest surgical shop, find an empty booth, give it the instructions and climb in! Maximum duration for any conceivable combination of procedures is two hours, guaranteed, with no rest required afterwards!

The view changes to the inside of a surgical shop, where a middle-aged, fat and bald man climbs, with some difficulty, onto the bed of the machine. He waves and grins at the camera as the bed slides into the belly of the machine, and the hatch closes. Then there is a perceptible flicker of the image, and the text Ninety minutes later appears on the screen. The machine opens, and the bed slides out. The man seems to have lost twenty years and fifty kilograms, and gained considerable amounts of hair on his head. His face is more handsome, and his teeth are all perfect as he grins at the camera. The believability is spoiled somewhat by the fact that the striped boxers he wore on the way in have turned into leopardskin shorts, several sizes smaller. The announcer returns, accompanied by a heavenly choir.

Find your closest D-X 3000 and ask yourself, 'who do you want to be today?'

The commercial ends, and Zakharov drums his fingers on the desk. "The media-research department collects all similar commercials, and this one caught my eye. Basically, it's a downgraded and automated surgical unit with some added cosmetic abilities. Very crude. But I think you see my point."

Steiner is silent, while his lips move. Then leans back in his chair. "How stupid I am, for not spotting that earlier. Margolith, Argolithm, Algorithm. Let's see.." Steiner accesses his MMI. "Margolith was the sponsor of Dorothy's school nine years back, and it was through them that Rita Koskinen became a teacher there.. Now, what of Margolith Technology, hah, itself? Hmm. Branch-offices in.. Morgan Industries. Spannerworks -that's the Free Drones. Forest Primeval of the Gaians. Also the Data Angels. And.. HERE?!" He springs to his feet. "They have an office two blocks away from here!"

Zakharov's fingers fly over the keyboard while he watches streams of information flow past on his monitor. "I'm finding more, Captain. That morganite salesman is working for one of Margolith's subsidiaries." He stops, and leans back. "Very well, the problem is global, and much more organized than we thought. If my suspicions are correct, the Media-Research division will soon issue an alert. I suspect Nwabudike has already seen that footage, and his plans for revenge are well underway."

"Why not tell him of the sleeper algorithms, sir?"

"The technology is too advanced for his security-forces to detect, and I suspect the Morganites are probably much worse off than we are already. Remember, they are supposed to be friends with the Cyborgs. I doubt we could make him believe us. There's a chance that he is already carrying an algorithm." Steiner's comm-link beeps. "You'd better answer that, Captain. I won't mind."

Slightly embarrassed, Steiner activates the link. "Yes?"

"Sir, this is lieutenant Davies. There are riots forming in several cities! Something on the networks have really gone up the noses of the people. Some want you prosecuted."

"Me!? What the- oh no. Have you found the transmission?"

"Yes, sir. It's channel sixty-three."

"I'll get back to you." Steiner closes the comm-link, and Zakharov is already summoning up the correct channel on the holoprojector.

Both the Provost and the captain gasp as they see what is being transmitted. Not only the recent arrest of the businessman, but several raids on the homes of University citizens follow each other in rapid succession with only brief commentaries in between. They both watch in silence, until Zakharov's desk beeps. He glances down.

"That's de Villard from the M-R division. I'll let him in."

De Villard enters, nods at Steiner and shakes hands with Zakharov. "Provost, the Morganites have launched a campaign of defamation against the University. They are hitting us with everything they've got, and the channels are full of it. They are calling you a tyrant!"

Zakharov glances at Steiner and the holoprojector, and then lets his eyes rest on de Villard, one eyebrow raised. "What else is new?"


End of chapter 53.

	05-02-2001 19:22									#55
	Support Apolyton buy from Amazon

Chapter 54: Knowledge is Power


Lord Ferrel gingerly approaches the center of the hall.

"We have placed the woman in the infirmary and under guard, my lord. There is no change in her condition."

Cha Dawn merely snarls at him. The boy emperor is trying to deal with his wrath; a feeling he has seldom experienced. Ferrel raises an eyebrow and backs away until he is out of the hall. The guards close the double doors in front of him, and he puts on an expression that would endanger his life if shown to Cha Dawn. Then he spins around and storms through the hallways into the chamber of advisors. It is not as vast or as densely decorated as Cha Dawn's, but it will still humble any visitor unaccustomed to luxury. The other seven advisors are already gathered.

"Jonothon, how is our patient doing?"

"Hard to tell, really. I suspect she is actually in communication with Planet -there is activity in the extra-sensory regions of her brain- but I can't be sure, with nothing to compare her case to. We really should convince Cha to let us record one of his sessions with Planet."

Ferrel shakes his head. "Impossible. You know how pathologically suspicious he is of anything -and anyone- that might pose even the slightest danger to his position as sole spokesman for the Planetmind. That's why he is so incensed now- he is mad with the urge to dispose of this 'Hubris' since she is also special to the Planetmind, but Planet has told him not to, and doing so would presumably anger the entity. And Cha can't afford to do that now, when it is evident that the Planetmind actually might turn to some other person for social interaction. No, Cha will guard everything concerning his dealings with Planetmind with even greater paranoia now."

Jonothon bows his head. "You are right. It is a pity, though. What we could learn!"

Ferrel's face breaks out into a smile. "But you forget- now we have another, according to your diagnosis. She might prove helpful in other ways as well, but we will certainly ask how she communicates with the Planetmind when -or if- she comes to."

"Please remember, Lord Ferrel, that my diagnosis is an educated guess, nothing more. My next best guess is that she has suffered massive brain damage. You know that the locusts are literally psionic lighthouses when dancing in the ritual of the path. In fact, I used Nordberg's fractal equations on the dance -I had to approximate, but I think the result is valid- and came up with some interesting figures. Did you know, that in such a dense and complex formation, augmented by the nodes, the neural connectivity could contain micro-currents with an intensity of over fifteen Keldharts?"

"Mmmh. Impressive. So.. Do you have evidence pointing at one of these cases?"

"Well- I have an enigma that would be answered by the first alternative. Let's move to the projector."

The central area of the Hall of Advisors is void except for a collection of large lenses in the ceiling and a small console on a pedestal. The projector is obviously meant to enable it's viewers to walk around and even into the object they are observing. Lord Jonothon walks up to the console and punches in a long code.

"As per standard procedures when Cha Dawn makes a public appearance, the airspace above the Plaza was filled with dozens of small independent surveillance units. I procured the footage from the Branch of Pruning and had it compiled into this three-dimensional representation of yesterday's ceremony. For ease of tracking, Hubris has a yellow outline." The holoprojector hums to life, and the floor below it becomes a miniature of the Plaza of Flowering, complete with bustling crowd. Jonothon points at the image. "See, there she enters the plaza. She's together with one of the communal aides, one Rebecca Snowdrop. I suspect their meeting was partly engineered, but by whom I don't know."

The events of the ritual are narrated, up to the moment Hubris is about to walk into the focus. Jonothon freezes the image and smiles apologetically to the other advisors. "The department of information processing nearly choked when I asked them to track the movements of the individual locusts in this swarm. It paid off, though. Had they merely substituted with a realistic pre-recorded swarm we'd never be able to notice this." He points to the swarm directly in front of Hubris. "I'll outline the locusts with a colour corresponding to their proximity to the viewer. See; they are opening a passage in front of her. Let's go forward five seconds." Hubris takes a long step, followed by some staggering, into the exact center of the focus. The locusts land on her, she glances at them and collapses. And then the locusts fly away from her, accompanied by disbelieveing gasps from the advisors and a grim smile from Jonothon.

"Yes, you were prepared and yet this total change in behaviour shocks you. But you haven't seen anything yet! I'll continue the recording, at half speed. Please try to lean over the image, so that you can observe it directly from above. But don't get in the way of the projector. See? See? Their dance is changing!"

One of the advisors turns half away from the image and scratches his temples. "It's like she's in the center of a vortex. Are the other three swarms reacting in a similar manner?"

"Yes. In fact, their dance becomes ellipsoid, with the point towards this focus. This is the basic pattern. From here, it evolves, as if the swarms are trying out what works in this new pattern. This is the same image an hour later. See how complex it has become? And yet another hour later. Now it's almost indistinguishable from the starting formation. The hole on top has closed, but out image-analyzers have determined that there's a globular 'no-fly-zone' centered on Hubris. Right.. The ceremony lasts for another sixty-four minutes, with a total tally of three hundred and seventy-four taking the ultimate path, Rebecca Snowdrop among them. Let's watch from the point when the locusts leave.. no sound."

Suddenly the seething swarm becomes diffuse on the top, as locusts start breaking off from the intense dance. They are followed by more and more locusts in a steady pace, so it seems as if an invisible bowl of pink and shiny ball-bearings is being slowly emptied. They disappear in the direction of Cha's palatial gardens, while the crowd looks on with arms uplifted in praise, and silent cheers on their faces. Then one of the foremost devotees lets his arms fall to his sides. He turns away to leave, casts one final glance towards the focus.. and stops dead. The advisors can easily imagine his cry of surprise and bewilderment as he rushes towards Hubris' unmoving shape in the otherwise completely empty focus. in seconds, a new and chaotic dance is started as confused and excited cultists run into each other while shouting and cursing. Then some guards appear and clear the space around the focus. At first they approach Hubris with caution, but when they determine she is unconscious, she is quickly removed from the Plaza. After some additional milling, the crowd leaves. It is already quite late by the terran clock.

One of the advisors clasps his hands. "I wonder if any of you have thought of this.."

Ferrel waits for a while, until his patience fails. "Yes, lord Paidar?" he prompts.

"If.. If we could convince Cha to experiment with this.. Say, have him preside in the center of a focus during one of the less complex ceremonies requiring locusts of chiron, then.. who knows? At least the effect on the public mentality would be worth it. He'd be closer to the masses than ever before, and yet totally unapproachable thanks to the locusts." Paidar's face switches from dreaming to serious. "But we'd need to test this first, as it wouldn't do for him to collapse like Hubris."

Ferrel nods. "Very good idea, Paidar. Let's work on it, and prepare the matter for presentation to Cha. He'll probably take some convincing. But this all is still conjecture, since before any of this occurs we must prove -and I stress this- beyond any doubt that Hubris really has communicated with Planet. While impressive, the recording won't do that. So.. how do you plan to go about awakening Hubris, Jonothon?"

"With patience, Lord. With lots of patience."


End of chapter 54.

	07-02-2001 17:24									#56
	Increase the size of your Attachments

Chapter 55: Misinformation is Power


Lewis looks up as the sounds of forceful knocking rings through the house. He rises slowly and strolls towards the door. Whoever is knocking is in a hurry, and starts to shout.

"Lewis Parks, are you there? This is sergeant Niejev of the CounterInsurgency! Please come to the door!"

Lewis is already opening the door as the young soldier finishes his sentence, and he looks sternly at the man. "Yes? What is it?"

The man shows his badge. "Sir, I have been ordered to escort you with all haste to the laboratory complex, since we have reasons to believe that your safety would be inadequate if you remained here any longer. Is Dorothy Parks and Jessica Parks with you?"

For a moment, Lewis looks like he is going to cry. "No, they're not here.. Dorothy.. my daughter is at the nanohospital. My wife is with her.

The soldier opens his mouth to ask the obvious question, then stops himself and looks over his shoulder. "Then they are safe. The hospitals are well-guarded. Please, professor Parks, you must gather whatever essentials we are able to carry and come with me; we'll be able to carry a great deal as I have an armored vehicle waiting for you. You may have to spend the night at the laboratory-complex."

Lewis nods and motions for the agent to come in. He talks while he grabs a bag and heads for the bathroom. "What is going on? Has the epidemic broken out?"

"Epidemic? No, there's nothing like that. No, riots have broken out in University Central. Even some of the army is supporting the rioters."

"So? This house is in a guarded neighbourhood. There's been fences and checkpoints around the area ever since my daughter got kidnapped. Won't I be safer in here, with the police watching?"

"Trust me, the police is powerless to help you right now. If the mob comes here, it will be with the specific purpose to attack you."

Lewis nearly loses his balance. He leans back against the wall while staring at the agent with a blank expression. "Why?"

"Information about the Mindwash Project has leaked. Also, there's several bits of false information circulating, including a rather artfully made holoprojection of you gleefully dissecting a living University citizen, among a large amount of other things. Simple face-pasting, but they've taken pains to find someone with almost identical measures and proportions to yours. The acting and props are also very good, and very untraceable. Um, that's not the worst of them. Someone really wants to see you destroyed."

Lewis clenches his fists. "Who are 'they' and 'someone'"

"S.L.F. That's all we know, those three letters. Your guess is as good as mine as to what they stand for."

Having packed what he wants, Lewis rushes to the door. Sergeant Niejev lays a hand on his shoulder. "Please, sir, let me make sure there's no danger." He steps casually out of the door and glances quickly left and right. "No problems, professor; the way is clear. The APC is this way."

The APC is extremely low-profiled, yet has room enough inside for Lewis to walk only slightly bent. He sits down on one of the seats along the wall and looks at a blank monitor. "Do you get the public channels on that one?"

The sergeant glances back as he links his MMI to the vehicle's controls. "Yes. What channel?"

"I don't know. What channel distributes those rumours?"

"Number sixty-three. I'll see if they're still on the air.. yes, they are. I'm actually impressed. That's some first-class hiding they must be doing."

The monitor flickers to life, and after twenty seconds of a recording seemingly involving Doctor Zakharov randomly dealing out powerful electrical shocks to a group of people that are bound to metal chairs, the scene changes to something familiar. The voice of the commentator cuts in.

"This is another footage liberated from the archives of the Mindwipe Project. This features the head researcher of the project, in more incomprehensible and cruel tasks." The recording shows Lewis and a team of surgeons opening the skull of a woman and linking a mass of cables to her brain. Suddenly, the woman breaks out in violent seizures, but Lewis does nothing to stop them. He merely watches the monitors and keeps her head still, while chatting with the surgical team.

Sergeant Niejev watches the recording via his MMI-link. "Disgusting! They must have a different actor for that one, since he looks far too young. They've done some sloppy image-processing. But I'm afraid the public will believe it, sir- sir, are you all right?"

Lewis clutches at his chest while staring at the monitor. His face is locked in anguish. His response is hoarse. "That's only half-false. It's a very old recording, and it's perfectly true.. except for the details." He looks wild-eyed at the sergeant, who answers with a blank stare. "I can't explain that recording without revealing some of the University's best kept secrets, sergeant. The fact that someone has it is amazing enough. Please believe me, that wasn't a human being!"

"Would that be.. the Zakharov definition of humans?" Lewis can feel the APC slowing down.

"No, Zakharov doesn't really believe that himself! Uh, I hope. My wife is.. merged with an algorithm, against her will... and while she's lost much of what she was, she's still human."

The APC keeps slowing down. "And.. who did that to your wife..?" Lewis gazes wide-eyed at the monitor as he understands why anyone would ask that question.

"A cyborg called Rita Koskinen did the actual work, but the orders came from Beta himself. Or themselves."

The APC has stopped. "I think you are lying, mister Parks." The agent's voice is a quavering monotone. He removes the link to his MMI. "Perhaps there is more to the truth than I thought. I.L.F. may be right. Even your own wife, for Planet's sake! How could you.." He turns around with a gun in his hand, but he is alone in the APC. The back door swings slowly back and forth, fully open.

Lewis runs around the nearest corner and stops. He leans carefully back and peers at the APC. Sure enough, the agent opens the driver's door and jumps out, gun in hand, and looks around. Lewis pulls away from the corner, turns around and takes a few steps. Only a few meters in front of him is a police blockade, and behind it is an angry mob. There is no more fitting description. The people throw themselves at the police in an attempt to break through, and angry screams fly through the air. Lewis stares at the scene, unsure what to do. Then he sees that some people are pointing at him. In a flash, the rage of the mob increases by several orders of magnitude.

Then someone fires a gun, and a policeman collapses. In the space beyond, Lewis can see a man aiming a laser-pistol at him, but the man is knocked down by the mob that is surging forward through the opening he created. However, the mob also has murder on it's mind. While some leap at the policemen, most seem to be heading straight for Lewis.

He turns around and sprints back towards the APC. He spots the agent, some fifty meters away and running in the wrong direction, and sees his chance. Niejev, however, is alerted by the shouts from the mob. He turns around, spots Lewis and starts running back. He also raises his gun.

Then the sergeant's chest implodes. Someone in the mob has misinterpreted his intentions.

Lewis reaches the APC a good distance ahead of the crowd, and he throws himself into the driver's seat. He rams home the wires of the MMI and leans back as the APC screams to a start. He hears the disappointed roar of the crowd fade in the distance, plus some zip and zing of ricochetting ammunition. Then there's a dull crash, and Lewis looks back to see pieces of the monitor strewn all over the floor. The back door is still open, and someone had a bit better aim than most.

">Agent Niejev, respond immediately! Why did you stop? Why are you leaving your assigned route?<"

Lewis is both startled and relieved to hear the familiar voice over his MMI-link. ">Captain, this is Lewis Parks. Niejev has been killed by a mob, and I'm now driving this APC. How do I find the route?<"

">Professor! Good to hear that you are alive. The APC has a quick-help list accessed via MMI. simply look under 'navigation'. Oh, wait.. there's a security code, too.. Here's the code.<"

">Thanks.<" Lewis looks up the correct entry and explores the functions of the APC via his MMI. In seconds, a map of the city with a clearly marked route is superimposed on his normal vision. ">Captain, I want to get my wife and daughter. They're at the nanohospital.<"

">Blasted Planet, I hate civilians and their wishes!<" Steiner's mental chuckle sounds over the MMI-link. ">But I'd want to do the same. Hang on, we'll feed a new route.. there! Just to be on the safe side, I'll have a chopper assigned to escort you.<"

">Thank you again.<"


End of chapter 55.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited February 07, 2001).]

	09-02-2001 14:53									#57
	Inflate your Upload Space

Chapter 56: Planet Dreams


Hear the humming of all the electronics in the room. See the bed. See the woman. The restraints.

Hear the door opening. Hear the footsteps, stopping by the bed.

There is a click, and a voice. "Log five-nine-nine; first inspection of potential extraction-subject. EEG shows waves characteristic of an ordered mind. A good plus." Hear the rustling of paper. "Medical analysis shows an excellent physique. Subject has the fitness of an athletic. Analyzer found no history of drugs. Hmm.. the CAT-scan of the cranium shows some interesting-" There is a pause, and more rustling of paper. A quiet curse, hissed between tight lips. Then the speaker resumes, in an excited voice. "Positive identification! The inspection is terminated, as I must report this quickly.."

Hear the retreating steps, and the door closing with a click.

Hubris dreams, undisturbed.. of Planet.

***

Harm him not you!

Hubris tries to move. She feels like her entire body, from the ends of her hair to her toenails, has gone to sleep, and can't be sure if she is achieving anything. Then she tries to open her eyes. Slowly, the world.. a world.. swims into focus.

"Where am I?" Her voice seems a mere whisper.

EarthHuman calls it PlanetDream. we understand not why; like Earthhuman dream not we.

Hubris can't move at all. She seems to be held firmly by a thick carpet of xenofungus. Only her face is free, and she is looking straight into the canopy of a fungal tower. Her head, she muses, must be resting practically on it's base. The tower, and everthing about her, is pulsing in a slow and powerful rythm, as if fed energy by a mammoth heart.

"But what is this place?"

What mean you, this place?

"This- this fungal tower? Where is it? Why is the fungus growing around me?"

Tower you see? Place we remember you, this. All memories of you. Tower many memories keep, many strange memories. Not know we meaning of many memories.

"But why all the fungus, holding me down?"

Not understand, we. Fungus around tower yes. Hubris here not. Only memories here. Hubris somewhere else. Somewhere close to PlanetCha. Better remember we not. So many memories. Fungus helps remember. Also fungus keep secret.

"What secret?"

Smoothrock here. Helps we remember Hubris. Helps Planetworm and Planetflower grow and be strong. Gives much power to Planetsong. Many more smoothrocks like this, only this smoothrock let we grow and sing with it. Other smoothrocks push away Planetflower and Planetworm. A thought have we. Come here you, teach you Planetsong we. Smoothrock help you learn. Smoothrock help we poetry learn.

"Thank you, Planet. I'll think about it. But could you release me -or send me back- please?"

First promise you not harm PlanetCha.

"Why would I want to harm him?"

For a moment, the great pulse permeating every aspect of this place seems to hesitate. know not we. You want to hurt him, said PlanetCha.

"I don't want to hurt him. Some other people want to hurt him, but that's because he has hurt them. He has pruned some of their brood or parents."

Understand we not. Pruning of animal we, also human you, necessary. This not bad. Hurt Cha not because of this. Stop others.

"Very well, I will try. But it seems very likely that Cha is going to prune me, if I'm not dead already."

Prune you not we. Gave his word, Cha, hurt you not. Live and grow strong, Hubris. Lay many eggs in animal shell to grow your brood and give greater power to Planetsong. Now go.. Tired we, from remembering Hubris. Rest we now..

Hubris feels as if she is being drawn into the fungal tower, and darkness envelops her again. Then a piercing light intrudes upon her consciousness, and she peers around through nearly closed eyelids. From somewhere off to her right there is a beep.

The alto voice of a woman is heard. "Lord, she has awakened. Her neural activity is quickly becoming relatively normal."

Hubris tries to move, but finds she is as restrained as in the dream. A man clad in light brown robes and carrying the symbol of the Cult of Planet on a large necklace walks in front of her bed.

"Greetings, Hubris. I am Lord Jonothon, medical and biotechnical advisor to Cha Dawn, and I have some questions.."


End of chapter 56.

	11-02-2001 23:48									#58
	Got spare money?

Chapter 57: Urban Myths of the University


"Professor Parks, we have found no evidence of the Prometheus Virus in your daughter, and are prepared to transfer her to our recovery-rooms."

Lewis rises from the chair he has been sitting in the last nine hours, right outside the high-risk infirmary of the Lab-Complex. He has seldom felt so tired, yet so relieved, as he does now. "Then what is the current diagnosis?"

"Collapse due to overwork. Her brain seems to have simply said, 'sleep', and there was nothing her body, or we for that matter, could do to change that. She's obviously returning to full health and use of her mental skills, and her MMI is clean -or, at least, the part of it that we could check. I understand we need a special permission from her as well as Doctor Zakharov to bypass the security barriers."

Lewis nods. "That's right. Project M.E.T.H.I.S, highest secrecy." He sighs.

The medical technician, trained in empathy, tilts his head. "What's the matter?"

"I've always wanted to know everything there is to know. That's part of my motivation to rise as high as possible within the research community. And then my daughter got involved in a project concerning MMI:s -she's had several more after the first, actually- that is so secret I'm not allowed to know more than the title and make my own assumptions." The frown is replaced by a happy smile. "I'm so proud over her- she hasn't said so much as a syllable about her work, which is admirable considering how much I have learned about what's going on here over a glass of beer at the closest bar."

The technician smiles slightly. "I see. On one hand, you are dying to know, and on the other hand you would be disappointed if your daughter told you. Well, I can tell that it's something big." He taps on his portable infodisplay. "No-one has been allowed anywhere near her except the doctors with the highest security-ratings, and the authorization for this arrangement included those same letters. M.E.T.H.I.S. On the Provost's orders, of course. I, a first-class senior technician, was about trustworthy enough to fetch the high gents their mugs of coffee from the vending machine, and they still wiped my infopad clean after every visit, just in case."

Lewis snorts, then chuckles. "Ahh, you bring back memories. I was actually first assistant quantum-physicist when we researched on fusion power, and some of the dilemmas I was asked to solve were -on purpose, of course- so far removed from the pure equations that I was at a loss how anyone could benefit from the solution -or what they represented. I've read the entire theory afterwards, and everything I did became clear; I saw where the small contribution I had done fitted in. It is one of my greatest experiences."

"Well, whatever your daughter's been working on, it's on par with your story, at least concerning the security measures. But is it usual to experiment on yourself? I mean, I can't imagine anyone doing that."

"It's not too uncommon. We've lost three heads-of-teams that way, who were all assigned, one after another, to the longevity vaccine -project. However, there are strict rules. You must be quite, quite sure that what you are planning on doing will work without serious risks involved."

The medical technician nods. "Good. That should eliminate my pet theory- that she's been testing something that doesn't work as it should."

"I doubt it. M.E.T.H.I.S, while an open-ended project, was declared a success three years ago already. By the stars, she was only thirteen when she was assigned to it, after completing the simulacrum systems -program. At first it was merely basic research into MMI:s, and then one day she told me that Zakharov was going to declare her project top secret. She got her own lab-time, in my lab since she didn't have her own." He shakes her head. "She was perfectly calm when she told me, as if it was the most natural thing for a thirteen-year-old to be assigned her second top secret research-project."

"I'm amazed, professor! I didn't know this. She must be the youngest person to accomplish this!"

Lewis shakes his head, and his face becomes worried. "No. She's the second youngest. The youngest was ten years old; he'd developed a crude prototype for the particle weapon -principle in his dad's garage." He shakes his head again. "He's dead now; he had a nervous breakdown during the end-stages of the resulting project and tested the finished product on himself."

"Well, don't worry. I can tell that your daughter is quite healthy overall, mentally. If this diagnosis of collapse is correct, then she is very lucky. Another person could have developed serious mental disorders before he collapsed due to overworking. Only a strong and disciplined mind could have steered clear of these more immediate dangers."

"All right. So what now?"

"Well, I've been assigned as her doctor while she recovers, but that mainly means I'm allowed to ask how she is doing every morning. But I'm also ordering a holiday from work. She must have rest, and she must find some hobbies. All right?"

Lewis nods. "Thank you."

"Good. Then I suggest we'll go to the infirmary and see how she is feeling at the moment. It's this way."

They walk away.


End of chapter 57.

	15-02-2001 10:04									#59
	Help yourself to an AD-FREE life

Chapter 58: Bought


"What if we imprison you?"

"Wouldn't do you much good."

"So, what if we simply kill you?"

"I'd come back."

"From death?"

"No. Not from death. I'd just return here and finish what I have started. Besides, I'd tell Planet. Can you risk losing the favour of the Planetmind?"

Lord Jonothon stops the recording and looks at the assembled advisors. "As you can hear, she has no fears whatsoever for her own safety. Even death, she claims, would not stop her. I assume she is talking about clones. We might not be dealing with the real Hubris here. Obviously, if the original is a strong telepath, she can be in constant contact with all of her clones, thus eliminating the benefits of killing any part of her. Also, this removes several psychological levers we could use on an isolated individual, and even if we somehow manage to crack her, there is still the chance that she mentally conditions her clones to die by telepathic command. In short, even though she is still too weak to rise from the hospital bed, we can't do anything to her."

Ferrel scratches his chin. "Did you ask if she was communicating with Planet?"

"Yes. She said that whatever they talked about was none of our concern." Jonothon shrugs apologetically.

Lord Paidar stirs. "I say, kill her. That'll at least mean it takes some time before she's back with a new clone."

"That's an option, certainly. But not the first one I intend to try. You see, I have the impression that we might negotiate a deal with her, and thus gain access to her talents and resources. I suppose you all see what benefits such an arrangement would have."

Lord Ferrel nods. "You are talking about the wars with the Hive and the Believers."

"Well yes, except I wouldn't call what we're having with the Hive a full-scale war.. nevertheless, we should try to negotiate with her. Do you agree?"

Jonothon lets his gaze travel from person to person, receiving nods as ackowledgement from everyone.

"Very well, then. Let's have her brought to us."

The order is sent, and soon after the double doors open wide to enable two guards pushing a wheelchair to enter. Hubris sits in the wheelchair, her hands and feet chained.

Ferrel nods at her. "I am Lord Ferrel, first advisor of his excellence Cha Dawn. Are you here on a mission to harm us or Cha Dawn? Answer yes or no."

"No."

"Good. Then you are not likely to assault us right now. Guards, remove all shackles but the one around her right foot." The guards obey, while the rest of the Lords squirm nervously. "Good. Now, then.. what is it you really are here for, if it's not that? What do you want from the Cult of Planet?"

"Do you expect me to answer that?"

Lord Paidar growls. "Insolent scum! You will behave more respectfully-" He is silenced by a wave from Ferrel.

"Paidar, cease your charade of injured dignity. This is no mere subject, fit merely for the brood-pits. This is an artisan." He turns to Hubris. "Indeed I do expect you to answer, because depending on it's nature we could come to a compromise."

"What kind of compromise?"

"There are certain mysteries we hope you could illuminate in exchange for what you seek -again, provided your target is something we could afford to lose."

"You wouldn't lose the target; the target would lose it's uniqueness."

"You wish to copy something? Record- ah, you want technology. Do you seek new technology in general or are you here for something special?"

"I want your knowledge of Chiron's ecology and evolution."

"Well, then. We could even provide you with that -up to a point. However, we will do this only after you have helped us."

"How?"

"We are at war. As are the Usurpers, Peacekeepers, Hive, Believers and Spartans. Oh, and the Pirates raid everybody indiscriminately just to keep us out of the seas. Why this state of affairs continues is a mystery. Every time there are peace-talks they fail. Every cease-fire is broken. Diplomatic incidents occur daily, and open sabotage and terrorism is common. What's more, Lal has been phenomenally stubborn in disbelieving most of these incidents, claiming everyone is trying to frame everybody else. What we'd like you to do, is to find out who is pitting us against each other -personally, I suspect the Usurpers- and how it is done. When we have enough knowledge to keep most of our interests safe, we will award you with ChironTech. Mainly, we'd ask you to spy on visiting diplomats, and should you find something out of the ordinary you would follow them to their home country. What do you say?"

"I say I want to think about this. Give me one day."

"You have two hours. Under guard."

Hubris shrugs. "Two hours it is."

"Guards, take her to an empty suite away from the imperial quarters. Should she want nourishment, you will send for some. Do not let her out of your sight. Once two hours have passed, take her back here."

Ferrel smiles as soon as the doors close. "She will, of course, accept."

A tall and spindly man is slowly turning crimson. "Ferrel, I certainly hope you aren't planning on honouring this agreement! ChironTech is our most sacred treasure and should not be given to outsiders for any reason!"

"Quit your spitting, Leward. Don't you think she'd find out the microsecond we decide to betray her? No, if she does the job she'll get what I promised. We'll not include our very latest discoveries, naturally, but still enough to be new for -for whoever is paying her." He grins, and his eyes narrow. "Besides.. what's the best way to spread the word of Planet to the unfaithful? Hide it among something they want to accept and believe in. We'll give her ChironTech, all right.. and much more besides that. Knowledge is power, they say.. and power is what you need to change a state of being; even a state of mind. She'll accept, and become both our spy and our ignorant prophet."

Laughter echoes in the corridors.


End of chapter 58.

	16-02-2001 16:13									#60
	Avatar Enlargement: We've got the solution

Chapter 59: S.L.F.


See the room high up in the lab-complex. It is large and white, with spartan furnishings. Formed like a square, with two sides cut in half by a diagonal wall, essentially one large window. Through it shines the light from the two Centaurian primary stars, bathing the interior in rust-red and purple hues the depth of which were never seen on Terra.

Lewis rests his head against the window, gazing out over the cityscape below. From up here, everything seems like business as usual, with the ever-flowing lights of humanity progressing steadily through the city. In reality, however, a small-scale war is fought between rioters -some now calling themselves rebels- and loyalists. The deaths are up in the hundreds, and no-one has even tried to count the wounded. Demonstrators all over the University are loudly demanding that Lewis and Captain Steiner be convicted of a host of crimes. Channel 63 is still sending out new material, some of it filmed from the streets as rioters and police clash.

"What are you looking at?"

Lewis smiles at Dorothy's voice. "The University." He turns towards her. "It doesn't feel like the one I've spent so much time in. And yet I have been instrumental in shaping it." He turns around again and nods at a large structure jutting out from the lab-complex. "That's the fusion-labs. After I had helped discover the practice of fusion, I was assigned as scientific advisor to the engineers who built that. I still remember all of the design-solutions I influenced." His forehead bumps against the glass. "I met Jessica while working on that project." He hits the glass with his fist, producing a dull sound. "What scares me, Dorothy, is that I'm losing everything I've leaned upon for support. Jessica is caring and patient, as she used to be, but there's not a hint of emotion in her. She's only loyal to me or the University because it's what is logical right now. Would a spy from the Cyborgs get to her, she might vanish without a trace."

"And then there's me, isn't there? I'm a scientist like you, now. And you know how time-consuming research is."

Lewis shakes his head. "No, I'm not blaming you or Jessica, or holding you responsible in any way. We do see each other every day, still. But this.. whatever happened to you? Do you know how cool and distant you have appeared these last years? Sometimes you have seemed nothing more than an acquaintance or colleauge, with no family ties. And then this. The riots. People calling me a murderer.. and worse." He sighs. "It makes me wish I could take both of you somewhere else. Living a carefree life in some coastal base, or among the giant forests of the Gaians. Or maybe a modest life with the Free Drones."

"You know you are deceiving yourself, dad. You could never relax away from your labs and your research. It would be the slow and painful wasting of the addicted, should you try to stop researching. As for me.. I am content. But right now I'm not allowed to work for three weeks, so once the chaos is over I could assist you for a while.. Should be nice and relaxing, and we get some time to talk. All right?" She rests her hand on his shoulder and looks out the window.

He pats her hand. "Thank you. We could see if we find some new lane of assault against the Algorithm's encryptation and biological encoding, though I haven't worked with that lately. How about you?"

"No, I haven't. I'd rather wait with that.. let's work on something else. Something nice."

"Very well. Let's make some beautiful science. Do you have anything in mind?"

Dorothy doesn't answer. She looks out of the window, and a strange spark flickers in her eyes. Lewis follows her gaze and sees the nanohospital encased in an expanding cloud of fire and smoke. Then the shockwave reaches them, rattling the window, while a dull thunder vibrates the entire building. Then a second explosion rips out large parts of the facade higher up on the hospital. Great chunks of silksteel tumble down onto the crowded streets below. Then, at the far reaches of the city, a brilliant globe of plasma erupts from what was the main distribution-center for electricity. In a flash, most of the city's lights (and all other electrical equipment) are darkened. Then the globe cools down enough to let the plasma resume gaseous form, and the resulting explosion tears apart everything within a kilometer.

The scene is so monstrous that both Lewis and Dorothy stand paralyzed at the window. Then a warning klaxon starts to hum, and both unfreeze. "Come, Dorothy. That's the general alarm. I'm supposed to find Zakharov, and so are you."

They run out of the room and down several dark corridors. Everywhere, doors are being thrown open and people are emerging; screaming, shouting, swearing or complaining loudly. Eventually, they reach the Provost's office, now illuminated by faint red emergency-lighting. Captain Steiner and some other high officials have already made their way there. Methis, in the form of Mayor Robert Karmazov, sits in a chair in the corner.

"Ah, good to see you, Lewis. And you, Dorothy. As I was saying, prior to your entrance.. Who is detonating bombs in my capital? And what are we capable of doing to stop them?" His demeanor is icy calm.

Captain Steiner salutes. "Their name is the Sentience Liberation Front. They made a public statement on the network nodes ten minutes ago, declaring that they were now at war against the University government due to our 'frequent breaches against the rights of humanity and the sanctity of the mind and soul'. They say they have sent distress-calls to our neighbours, asking for military intervention to 'stop further crimes' and to bring us to justice. They also say they will take action immediately to weaken the government's stranglehold on the citizens of the University, and apologize beforehand for the regrettable loss of innocent lives this could result in. All in all, a very impressive declaration, sir. Someone very skilled has composed the message."

Zakharov's face still reveals no trace of anger. "Captain, they are priority one. Understand? Operation Mindwash is priority two, as long as this group is at large." He turns to another official. "Commander Vabek, what is the situation on the streets?"

The aged soldier nods at Zakharov and stares out into space for a moment. Then; "The civilians have been shocked by the bombs, sir. Most of them are now dispersing, and there are signs that a curfew will be obeyed at this point. I need your signature as well as Mayor Karmazov's for that, however. Also, there are a few pockets of graver civilian disobedience; some drones have acquired improvised weapons and are violently resisting arrest. However, without the backing of the masses they will be a minor matter. The city will be returned to order within the hour, sir."

Zakharov thumps a monitor embedded in is desk. "Here, on my monitor, is reports from four mayors. Edinstvo has lost it's recycling tanks in what they call a methane explosion. Zarya and Svobodny had their hab complexes bombed. While the structures are still standing, they are unsafe for civilian use and will have to be torn down and rebuilt. And.. Mir Lab had it's Centauri Preserve bombed. They are still hunting mindworms in the downtown areas." He looks up. "Commander, put the military on alert. The curfew is concerning all non-essential facilities University-wide and will last all hours of darkness. Labs are, of course, essential. All economy- and science-structures will have round-the-clock guards. Understood?"

"Yes." the Commander salutes and leaves.

Zakharov turns back to Steiner. "You, captain, will change tactics. Every node that you clean from now on will have it's uploading functions disabled. Should they still become infected, you will shut them down. Thus, whoever is distributing these sleeper-algorithms will need to change nodes. Guard the still operating nodes round the clock, and see if you can spot the person or uploading a new algorithm. If so, don't arrest him or her. Put the person under surveillance. Track every move. And as for S.L.F... they will be looking for recruits. You know what that means. Now go."

Steiner leaves, and Zakharov turns to the Parks. "How do you feel, Dorothy?"

"Fine, thank you, Provost."

"Good. Lewis, I need you and Jessica supervising the reconstruction of the energy banks. Since she is still under the influence of that cursed algorithm, we might as well utilize that. She will be guarded, of course. Dorothy, do you think you could direct the repairs on the nanohospital?"

"Yes, no problem."

"Good. Then let the firemen and the police work, and once the rubble is cleared away you can inspect what is salvageable.. although I suspect it won't be much. Good luck, to both of you."

They leave. As they walk towards the elevators, Lewis looks curiously at Dorothy. "When did you study nanotechnology?"

"Two years ago. I headed a research-project on the subject last year. How so?"

"You are spreading out rather widely, aren't you? Cybernetics is a subject with no discernible boundaries, so why investigate another subject?"

"Actually, it was a combined nanotech/cybernetics -project. I can't tell you the details, I'm afraid." She smiles apologetically. "Sorry about that. You know how it is."

Lewis chuckles. "Much better than I'd prefer."


***


In his office, Zakharov turns to Karmazov/Methis. "What do you think of all this?"

"It is quite clear. As a steadily larger portion of the MMI-users receive sleeper-algorithms -remember, that the public nodes are but one of many possible sources of 'infection'- they are becoming increasingly negatively disposed towards you and your staff. Unlike Steiner, I suggest that the algorithms are 'awakening' slowly, rather than in sudden bursts. The carriers will feel more and more benign towards the Consciousness, which will correspond directly to their likelyhood of assisting any agent of the Consciousness. I estimate, that when every fifth MMI-user, or ten per cent of the entire population, is carrying a sleeper algorithm, the unrest and antipathy will reach a climax.. a rebellion. The algorithms will fully activate, providing leaders and coordinators."

Zakharov nods. "And with the civilans here, and the army patrolling the Consciousness/University border, nothing will stop the populace from succeeding. Very well, what's the current estimated ratio of sleeper-algorithms?"

"Seven point three nine per cent of the entire population."

Zakharov leans back and gazes at the roof. "Do you see any way out of this, that lies within our abilities?"

Methis is silent for a moment. "No. Unless outside factors contribute to change the situation in our favour, there is little hope of avoiding the rebellion. Increasing the military presence in University Central would merely postpone the inevitable."

"We should warn the rest of the world about this. Even if we are lost, others might be able to fight Beta. I'll prepare a statement to the other factions. Also, I will buy time. Pull back two of your regiments from the border. They'll get some rest while they serve as a military police."

Methis nods. "Very well."


End of chapter 59.