The Wizard of Chiron

[Raging Mouse]

Here we go again!

[Raging Mouse]

"The third millennium of history is mainly a recount of the events on the planet Chiron, as they concerned the entire first galaxial sector of the Milky Way and even beyond. Refugees from the devastated Terra, the Homo Sapiens were divided into several primitive nations led by men and women of terrible power and non-existent flexibility. These soon encountered the Progenitor Exogenus, represented by two warring parties come to claim the final Manifold for their respective ideological parties. Conlict, between nations as well as species, were almost inevitable (Refer to Maresine's Socio-Political Equations for exact calculations). It is from this era our Empire draws most of it's early heroes and myths, as the seeds of it's glory were sown then. Another fact is that no reliable historical data remains from earlier periods. Humanity's original home is, alas, lost forever in myth. Only the names Terra and Earth remain, and some would locate it in the Sol-system.."

-Reprinted by permission from 'Encyclopedia Imperia'.

"..Interesting about the time is, that sociologists mark this period; the age of the fifth chironian-born generation of humans -or 2260- as the rebirth of stories, for it was then that new myths about Earth were born, and passed from mouth, through attentive ears, to mouth. Suddenly, heroism was back in fashion; he -or she- who had courage, the glint of intelligence in the corner of the eye, and style or notoriety, was again hailed as hero and given encouragement, with countless songs, holovids and virtua-experiences to bolster and exaggerate his or her fame. Ah yes, we did much that was large back then; both glorious and foul. I leave you, the reader, to judge whither my own scales tilt between those two extremes, and remind you to judge me as a whole, rather than peck away at some isolated incident you might remember..."

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

Chapter one: Dorothy


See the girl, skipping along. See her father, holding her hand and smiling.

"Daddy?" She is dressed in red. Red shoes, red skirt, a red ribbon in her hair. She is nine years old.

"Yes?" He is wearing a lab-coat. Dark hair and beard, both short. And auto-adjusting glasses.

"You said I could ask for anything for my tenth birthday?"

The father's amused grin causes the girl to smile nervously. "Yes, I did, didn't I? Well, the happy moment is still fourty standard days away. Do you already know what you want?"

The girl's response is quick. "I want one of those funny one-wheeled bikes that you can't fall off!"

"..You mean a mono-grav? You have misunderstood, I'm afraid. Once you know how to control one properly, you cannot fall off. But before that, they are even harder to master than normal bicycles."

"But daaad! You promised! I will practice a lot!" A small snuffle is added instinctively; the forewarning of wails to come (unless soothed properly with aforementioned toy).

"Hmmm. I seem to recall your friend Karen receiving a mono-grav for her birthday last month. Is that why you want one? Do you know how she broke her hand?"

"Yes, but I know what she did wrong. I won't be as clumsy." Now head is held high, challenging. Lips tightened to show resolve.

The father doesn't answer that. He is filing through his internal archive of ways to divert the little girl's interests closer to normal bicycles, preferably like the one he already paid for and that is now hidden in the family's garage. He settles for 'wait and see'.

"Dad, where are we going?"

"I'm going to show you where I work."

"Mom says I can't ask you about your work. She says it's a secret."

The father smiles again, a bit nervously this time. He knows his daughter has every chance of becoming a Talent, but still.. Explaining security to a nine-year-old should not have to happen. "She's right. You can't tell anyone what you see when we arrive. Not even mom."

"I promise I won't, dad. But why are we going there?"

"There's someone who would really like to be your friend. Everybody calls her Amethyst, but her real name is Methis. And she's really lonely. She's your age; she'll be ten only two days after you are."

"Methis? What kind of name is that?"

Father's brow furrows. "Actually it's a shorter version of a much longer name, but it does have a meaning.. The dictionary says it's the name of the greek goddess of wisdom."

"What's a goddess?"

Father shrugs. "I don't know, really. I think I've heard the Believers use the world occassionally, and also the Gaians.. I suppose it's some kind of expert. But an expert on wisdom?" He gathers his thoughts. "Anyway, I don't know."

"Oh. What does -uh- creek mean?"

"Greek. I think it was a country on Earth. It's like saying the inhabitants of Gaia's Stepdaughters are Gaian."

The girl's thoughts return to matters at hand. "But why is she at your work-place? Why don't you invite her home, like Karen?"

"She's different. She looks different, and... well, she can't move. Also, when you meet her, she will appear.. silly. Like a baby. But she will learn quickly."

"A boy in school has these ugly metal rods sticking out of his legs and back. My teacher says they help him walk and stand. Is Methis like him?"

"No. Methis can't walk at all. But you'll see when we get there."

"Are you trying to heal her, so she can walk again?"

"Well, no. I'm just trying to make her better.... But will you try to be her friend? She's really, really lonely."

"We'll see, dad. I have to get to know her first." The way his daughter sounds so important makes him smile. He, Lewis Parks, doctor of cybernetics and bionics, can already see her being an influential lady in future University society. Some of his nervousness disappears, and right on time, for they are coming to an intersection in the corridor. Here they turn to the left, and are immediately standing in front of the high-security checkpoint. The two guards snap to attention.

"Parks, Lewis. This is my daughter, Dorothy. She has a special permit."

One of the guards nods and takes a step sideways, revealing a tube in the wall. Lewis walks up to the tube and breathes into it. He instructs Dorothy to do the same. Both times, a soft chime sounds and a small green lamp starts to blink.

"What's that for, Dad?"

"It's a security-station, dear. It can recognize you by your breath. At the same time, it can tell if you are, say, asleep or ill."

A grating motor-sound reverberates through the corridor as the circular door rolls to the left into the wall. Lewis walks through with his daughter in tow. He hurries through a couple more intersections.

"Dad, wait! I don't want to run!"

Lewis stops to pick her up. "I'm sorry, but we need to hurry to the next checkpoint. It will take much longer there unless we arrive within a certain time. It's meant to discourage nosy people."

They reach the checkpoint in time, and are simply waved through the door which opens after a short moment. After that comes some more corridors, and one last, unmanned checkpoint right outside a large double door. The checkpoint consists of a button. Lewis presses it, and a slight buzzing sound starts to emanate from the wall. Then, a voice:

"Yup?"

"Open up, Andersen! It's me."

"Just a moment."

A loud 'click' is heard from the double doors. They are a dull grey colour, and the number '292' is engraved into them. As the doors open up, Dorothy realizes there are no handles or keyholes on this side. A man, probably Doctor Andersen, is revealed.

"Hello, Lewis. Hi, Dorothy! Your dad has told me so much about you, but he didn't say how pretty you are." This produces the intended giggle. "Are you here to see Amethyst?"

"Yes." Dorothy looks around, wide-eyed. This seems to be some kind of combined storage- and mess-hall. Strange machines of all sizes and shapes are scattered throughout the room, decorated with occasional half-drained teamugs. The walls are covered with jolly postcards, colourful posters and antique signs, with messages such as 'You are now leaving Kansas. Don't be a stranger.' Lewis and Dr. Andersen talk to each other in a fast monotone that Dorothy fails to understand. Then Lewis smiles at her.

"Come on."

All three walk through another set of double doors, into a large room. It is several stories high, with gantries along the walls and catwalks hanging from the roof. in the center looms the biggest, most impressive computer Dorothy has seen. It consists of shelf-like racks, filled with transparent, crystalline boxes, arranged like an asterisk around a center lost in wires and ventilation-tubes. The racks are so high that they almost touch the ceiling, and the entire thing would probably collapse if it wasn't surrounded by yet more gantries. A lonesome technician can be seen about two-thirds of the way up, holding a notepad and obviously looking for something within the structure.

"This way."

Lewis leads dorothy around he base of the structure, and a cluster of monitors and keyboards is revealed. And in the center of the cluster..

"Dorothy, meet Methis."

Whereupon Dorothy, with a strangled wail, hides behind her father.


End of chapter one.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 08, 2001).]

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter Two: Methis


Methis was a Petri-Chimpanzee. This meant that she was produced from a genetically altered eggcell, and that this eggcell had spent it's first week floating on a Petri-dish. Then, as it grew, it was moved to a tank containing an artificial placenta, to which it attached. This meant the biotechnicians watching over her growth could chemically control any and all of the myriad factors that would eventually produce an infant chimp.

This technique was widely used in University bases. Since the chimps' intelligence could be greatly enhanced, a single individual could be trained to perform a number of complex, but nevertheless (for a human) routine and boring, tasks. Their metabolism could also be altered, so they required only one sixth of the nourishment a standard human needed per day. Put simply, they were better and less expensive to maintain than robots.

The instructions given to Methis' breeders were simple; the size of the brain was of primary importance. Everything else had a supporting role. She was designated as component A of project 292, Hot-labs, University Base. Project 292 was an attempt to grow living, intelligent interfaces for military-grade pre-sentient algorithms. The benefits of such were obscure, if there were any at all, but there was little doubt at this point that the project was close to it's successful completion. Methis had been trained for almost ten years, and could feed complex instructions to the computer in a minute fraction of the time even the best programmer, outfitted with the fastest mind-machine interface available, needed to complete the task.

Lately, however, she had been more and more reluctant to respond to the commands given her. The same was true when she was supposed to present the resulting output in any of the available forms (on a monitor, as a three-dimensional holo-projection or even by speaking). The best simian psychologist was consulted, and the answer was immediately received; Methis was lonely. She needed a friend, and none of the researchers qualified. Since the psychologist himself was busy (he said), Lewis and his team needed to find someone else.

Now, as he watched his daughter sit at the side of the chimpanzee's 'bed', her right hand holding the tiny, atrophied left hand of Methis, he knew he had been right in his choice. Methis now had the intellect of a seven-year-old, but this was expected to improve at an exponential rate as she got to socialize. Thus, also the project would benefit. And he had also managed to introduce his beloved daughter to the highest corridors of real power in University society. Only one man, Prokhor Zakharov himself, wielded more power than the University's corps of scientists. And of course, Dorothy now had a new friend. Always a plus, since her parents were very concerned about her social skills. Somehow, she didn't manage to acquire friends as easily as other children of her age.

All in all, Lewis Parks was unbelievably pleased with himself at the moment.

Meanwhile, Dorothy heaved out another shuddering sigh. That, and the red streaks on her cheeks, was all that remained of the initial fright of seeing Methis. Now she was merely sad. While she only had other petri-chimps to compare with, she could see that Methis was greatly malformed. Her head looked like an inflated coconut, and was nearly as massive as all of the rest of her body. Her legs were twisted stumps. Her arms were also small and twisted, but they were recogizable, and her hands had only three working digits. Her throat and jaw had been surgically altered to enable her to speak. Methis spoke slowly, and her sentences were often incomplete.

"...Feel better now?"

"Yes." Dorothy looked down at her knees. She was slightly embarrassed of her initial reaction. While Dorothy was being calmed down, Methis hadn't shown the slightest sign of agitation.

"Methis like.. new friend Dorothy."

"Um, what do you do for fun, Methis?"

"..Play games."

"Like what?"

"..Chess. Methis like chess. ..Know chess?

"I do! I am champion of my class, but we're only four who know how to play yet."

"..Play.. chess with Methis?"

"Yes, I'd like to, but how? I don't see a board anywhere.."

"...Hologram."

Dorothy followed Methis' gaze. One of the holoprojectors sprang to life, and a chequered board seemed to materialize in the air above Methis' bed, with the pieces readily arranged.

"Dorothy.. white."

Nine moves later Methis had won.

"How did you DO that?"

"..Trap. Methis show.."

While Methis explained the trap to Dorothy, Dr. Andersen walked casually up to one of the keyboards and typed in a short sentence. Methis' eyes flickered to him for a moment.

"Dorothy play.. again?"

"Yes, sure. I'll not fall for that again."

This time the game lasted much longer. Eventually, Dorothy won by a -she thought- ingeniously set-up trap for Methis' queen.

"That was fun! You really are very good at chess, Methis!"

"Thank you.. friend."

Lewis walked up to the pair. "Time to go, Dorothy. Mom has some pudding waiting for you."

Methis looked at Lewis, her eyes moistening. "Don't go.. Stay.."

"But I'll come back another time, Methis." She looked imploringly at Lewis. "Won't I, dad?"

Lewis peered from daughter to chimp with a smile and a calculating look. "Sure. Methis has some homework to do first, but if she is quick you can come see her again tomorrow, firt thing after school."

"Methis.. quick. Dorothy.. back tomorrow."

"Yes. We'll play more chess!"

Lewis led his daughter back towards the entrance, and Dorothy waved good-bye to Methis.

She thought the chimp smiled as it looked at her.


End of chapter two.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter three: And So It Begins


Now see the events unfold as a month passes by.

Dorothy returned the next day. And the next. She quickly discovered that while Methis had great problems with speech, the ape was phenomenal at all kinds of logical skills. Indeed she suggested that they should do their homework together, but Lewis told her that Methis always did her homework during the day, when Dorothy was at school. Nevertheless, with Methis' help -she loved to teach- Dorothy managed to top her class in mathematics, physics and chemistry, and generally improve her score in all other sciences.

She never questioned the ape's skills, or even suspected that the giant computer Methis was linked via to a confusion of cables might have something to do with them.

Meanwhile, Methis steadily improved on her 'homework'. She broke records in code-cracking, DNA-simulation, military strategy and tactics, and a number of other tests. Also, her speech improved to near perfection, thanks to her rapidly increasing general intelligence. This meant that the project already was successful, but as project manager, Lewis was the one who decided when to stop and report the result. And he wanted to see exactly how good Methis, and living interfaces in general, could become. Besides, his daughter and the chimp seemed to be very good friends, and it was quite unlikely that Dorothy would ever meet her again once Methis was handed over to the army, the space agency or whoever would get to use her skills first. He tried to find a way to prevent this. He also wanted to prepare his daughter for the worst, so one day at the end of the month he told her; next time she got to visit Methis would probably be her last.

She took it well; she only cried for half an hour. It was when she had said goodbye to Methis that the problem really started. Dorothy had already left, looking incredibly saddened, and the ape signalled to Lewis that she had something on her mind.

"Yes, Methis? What is it?"

"Dorothy indicated that this would be our last meeting... Why?"

"You must be able to figure that out. She will be ten in less than two weeks' time, and I really can't expect her to keep secrets for long no matter how exceptionally intelligent for her age she is. Sooner or later she would brag about you at school, and then the place would be crawling with probe teams. She could get hurt. Better to have her forget you quickly, since you would anyway be shipped somewhere else, and then she'd really not be able to visit you."

"You don't understand, Lewis. I don't want to break contact with her; I cannot forget her thanks to the Algorithm and I'd always miss her. You maintain your scientific approach to my 'case' with care, and Dr. Andersen mostly treats me as a freak-show. She's the only friend I have, and unless I can't keep my friends I don't want to live. Unless I can't see her again I'll erase the algorithm, effectively lobotomizing myself... and destroying all your accumulated research-data."

Lewis stared at the chimp. He had no doubts she could carry out the threat; she had already cracked much, much harder passcodes than the one protecting the editing commands (It was 'yhtorod'). Problem was, he knew of only one person that could carry out Methis' request, and it wasn't himself.

"I'll- I'll just- I'll just make a phone-call, allright?" he mumbled and walked to a commlink in the storage/dining-room. There, he keyed in a three-digit code on the touchscreen. After a moment, the screen switched to the image of a secretary.

"Yes, Dr. Parks?"

"I need to speak to doctor Zakharov. Urgently."

"Please wait a moment."

Lewis used the time to compose several different scenarios for the coming discussion, trying to predict the questions and find good answers to them. This meant he was slightly more nervous when the Professor's face appeared on the screen.

"Yes, doctor Parks?" Zakharov was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair. He seemed slightly bored, or possibly annoyed. Lewis remembered the half-joking rumour that anyone who managed to impress the man got his next half-millennium of longevity-treatments for free.

"I and my team have brought project two-nine-two to a conclusion. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, I cannot tell whether or not the project is a success. We are now in a scenario that was not predicted. For these reasons, I wish to present you with our results and ask what you think we should do." This was every project-leader's right and privilege. It was also very risky. Zakharov despised people without the guts to carry on when a project took a nasty turn, and if it turned out that you hadn't dared to continue, rather than not knowing how, your Talent-status was permanently revoked.

"Allright. I'll be there next friday at noon. Be ready."

An extremely nervous and slightly surprised Dr. Lewis Parks closed the comm-link. All of his imagined scenarios had taken much longer. Also, it was certain that Methis would refuse to cooperate tomorrow unless she had seen Dorothy again. But Dorothy was now at home, and her mother -Lewis' wife- would get quite concerned if Lewis whisked her away to the lab again today. Jessica was quite irritated already by the fact that Dorothy had been depressed for two days now and neither she nor Lewis would tell her why.

No way around it; Dorothy would have to be absent from school tomorrow. She'd get to meet Methis well before noon, and would have to be there when the Professor arrived. And then.. And then what would be would be.


End of chapter three.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter four: Inspection


Now see Dorothy the next friday.

The only sentence her dad had spoken to her her this morning before rushing off to work was:

"Dorothy, I'm going to pick you up from school some time before noon. You'll have to tell miss Koskinen that you will be absent from at least all classes in the afternoon. You'll see Methis again! Oh, and don't tell mom."

So now, about an hour before noon, she is quite happy indeed as she plays with her classmates in the school's recreation dome. She looks up from her games when she hears her teacher, miss Koskinen, approach. Now, teaching children is one of the most respected jobs in the University after researching. A person needs an extremely high education and intelligence to compete with the robots and androids designed for the task. Nevertheless, every school needs a handful of flesh-and-blood teachers. Some University scientist once remarked that he only had to look at children to find new ways chaotic behaviour could manifest, and no robot is good at sorting out chaos; at least, not yet.

Unfortunately, the majority of state funds goes to research, so the schools have needed other sources of income. Some decades back Prokhor Zakharov, after a model from the Morganites, decreed that corporations could sponsor schools and childrens' creches. Since then any corporation struggling to get a foothold on the University markets sponsored at least five different schools and universities. The beautiful trees and bushes in Dorothy's school's rec-dome is a gift from it's sponsor; a major Univ-Gaian trading company. Thus, miss Koskinen's uniform bears the logos of the Gaians, the University and the sponsoring company.

"Dorothy, I got word from your father. He will be here in thirty minutes." The woman watches curiously as Dorothy smiles happily. "Well I'm certainly happy you're not so sad anymore, Dorothy. Why don't you tell me what's been weighing so heavily on your mind lately, and how it disappeared. Are.. things alright at home?"

Dorothy giggles. "Oh yes! No, I just thought I wouldn't see one of my friends ever again, but now I will!"

"You mean your father will take you to see this friend? That must be a very special friend indeed. Why don't you tell me all about it?"

Dorothy's face turns serious, and a bit guilty. "I promised dad I wouldn't tell anyone.." she mumbles slowly.

"But dear, you know I wouldn't reveal to anyone anything you have ever said. It's illegal for me to do that. Tell you what, I'm so curious I'll make you a cup of cocoa while we wait for your dad. How about that?"

Dorothy smiles even more. This day seems to go from windfall to windfall! Thirty minutes later, when Lewis arrives, she still has brown stains around her mouth.

From a window, miss Koskinen watches their car zoom off. Then she shakes her head; she's been lost in thought for quite long enough, and now she has some reports to do.

Fifteen minutes later, there is a sombre yet happy reunion. With half an hour until noon, Lewis hurriedly explains matters to both Methis and Dorothy; if they behave well and play their cards right, Dorothy might be allowed to visit Methis any time she likes. Then he prepares the research-staff for the meeting, together with dr. Andersen, while his daughter challenges Methis to a game of virtual Mah-jong.

Exactly at noon the doorbell rings, and dr. Andersen greets dr. Zakharov. Dorothy spies on him shyly from behind one of the memory-shelves, and Methis uses one of the numerous cameras. This is the first time Dorothy has seen the leader of the University of Planet in person, and she is immediately struck by the way he seems to note every tiny detail around him: space seems to bend straight around him only so that he can study it from every angle at the same time. She even feels that he has already spotted her.

"Very well, doctor Parks. Here I am; now tell me what is so extraordinary about project two-nine-two."

Lewis talks for nearly an hour. He details the progress of the work from day one to the present in exhausting detail, paying special attention to the problems with Methis' loneliness and the great results achieved by introducing her to Dorothy. At this point Dorothy is also introduced to Zakharov, and she stands shyly beside her father as the rest of the events are told. Then Lewis has told everything, and a heavy silence falls over the group. Eventually dr. Zakharov nods.

"Now I want to talk to Methis."

Zakharov, Dorothy, Lewis, dr. Andersen and their assistants all walk to the chimp's 'bed'.

"Methis, or Amethyst as you are called, do you know that you are jeopardizing this entire project by your stubborn behaviour?"

"I.. take it you refer to my demand that I will not be separated from Dorothy? Professor, even other Petri-chimps have someone who cares for them; they can even care for one another. But to these scientists I am a research-subject, and to whoever requires my talents I would be nothing but a tool. Only Dorothy actually cares for me; therefore I care for her. Her visits mean more to me than your tasks."

Again, Zakharov nods. He turns away from the ape and looks at the researchers. Eventually, Lewis dares to speak.

"So.. you see the problem, doctor?"

"You could say that.. on the other hand, I see it from the outside. It is clear that you have only observed it from the confines of your project. Do you know what the problem looks like from the outside?"

Lewis gulps, and Andersen stares at his feet. "Uh, no.."

Zakharov smiles slightly. "Like an opportunity."

A moment ago the team of scientists looked like they were expecting Zakharov to shout 'off with their heads!' Now they look as if they expect him to pull a rabbit out of a hat, or possibly start tap-dancing. "Wh.. what opportunity?"

"Probe-secure terminals!"

"Um, I.. don't.. follow.. you.."

Zakharov spins around to face Methis again. "You! Here's a scenario: A probe-operative wants your data. He threatens to eliminate Dorothy otherwise. What do you do?"

The answer is immediate. "I raise the alarm."

"Why?"

"It's an easy solution. I can either obey or disobey. If I obey, the probe could still eliminate Dorothy if it suits his purposes. He could also go on and demand that I do something else for him. Thus, he'd be in total control. If I disobey and raise the alarm the probe will want to leave the country in a hurry, and preferably without stopping to kill anyone. Both I and Dorothy would probably gain from the latter."

Zakharov turns back to the now captive audience.

"You see? It's an additional feature of living interfaces! Provided the users manage to befriend the chimp they have an extra security-system that will spot unauthorized users the second they enter the room, or from even further away if we link additional cameras to it."

There's a general Dawn of Understanding among the researchers. Zakharov continues.

"All we need to do is instruct potential users that they must attempt to befriend the interface; possibly they acquire it at it's infancy and then they work with it while it grows. That way the chimp will be accustomed to it's users as early as possible. As for you, Methis, it is obvious you need to stay here and that Dorothy should be allowed to visit you whenever she wants to. I dare claim you'd dislike a team of scientists you don't know even more than the ones that have worked with you for these past ten years. I'm sure you'll be a great help to them in any future projects, and I'm also sure you'll be treated better once they realize how much you can improve overall security if you'd want to."

This gets approving murmurs from the researchers. Lewis merely smiles happily, and Andersen wrings his hands in anticipation. Things seem to be going well.

"Now, You will need a short while, maybe a week or so, to create initial scenarios for how this 'social calibration' of living interfaces would be best to carry out. However, the actual research into that will be done by someone else. So let's say that one week from now you will present the full report of this success to me, including initial guidelines for the usage of these interfaces."

The scientists are now cheering and applauding. Lewis, however, blushes and clears his throat.

"Professor Zakharov, Dorothy's birthday is a week from now, and I really thought I'd be free from work.."

Zakharov turns to Dorothy with a smile. "Really, my young lady? How many years will you be?"

Dorothy blushes like a stop-sign. "Ten."

"Really? Well, then. Your father tells me that you have been very helpful, and Methis seems to care for you greatly. So I wouldn't dream of interfering with your birthday-party! And I suppose you wouldn't say no to a little reward for helping these people with their jobs? No? Well, then. Is there some special gift that you'd like to have for your tenth birthday?"

At first Dorothy is so shy she can't imagine speaking to the leader of this nation even to warn him that his hair is on fire. Then the sheer potential of the offer hits her. Nevertheless, it's a close fight between the two emotions.

"Uh.. I've always wanted a mono-grav, but dad says..."

Zakharov smiles at Lewis, whose turn it now is to turn crimson. He starts to mumble.

"Well, you know sir, those things are so expensive you'd think they are made of mindworm-pearls. Plus they are rather hard to steer..."

This receives a wide smile from the professor. "We really can't have this at all. A young hero of science must be allowed some luxuries; am I right, Dorothy?" He winks. Dorothy is transfixed, torn between laughing and fleeing. "I'll have the latest model delivered to you on the appropriate date. It's fitted with a mind/machine-interface for easier control. You'll soon be the master of mono-gravs at school!"

This time Dorothy does laugh a bit, but it dries out in panic. "But sir.. I don't have an MMI implant! Those things are even more expensive than mono-gravs, dad says!"

Zakharov plays shocked. "What is this? No implant?! My lady, you are a cunning negotiator! Now you will get two gifts for the price of none! I'll consider it an investment. Maybe you will also become a famous researcher, like your father, some day..."

Considering the rewards the actual research-team will get, Dorothy's gifts are nothing to Zakharov. And besides, with any luck he has laid the foundation for one of the University's most promising careers in science. He's also pleased; this could finally be the discovery that will push back the relentless invasion of probe-teams from the cyborgs, the gaians and especially the data-angels.

Lewis can't believe his luck. Zakharov has given him and his team very high praise for their work. Even Dorothy has managed to impress, or at least endear herself to, the old scientist. The only cloud in a sky of silver linings is that he now probably has to sell a brand-new bicycle and buy something else. There is no way a bicycle could compete with a brand-new mono-grav. Anyway, it looks like he has managed to lay the foundation for a most promising career in science for his daughter.

Dorothy is also extremely happy. Not only has she been promised by Zakharov himself that she can now visit Methis as much as she likes, she has also managed to lay the foundation for what can only be described as a most promising birthday.


End of chapter four.

[Raging Mouse]

"Exactly how much the technology of Mind/Machine Interfaces have changed our lives is hard to say, since it alone can't be said to represent the years of research poured into so many different branches of science that came together in it's creation. Let's instead call it the axis around which the world of posterity revolved for quite some time, even though the later objects called by that name were meant to do completely different things than originally intended by the prototype, and had radically different designs."

-Reprinted by the permission of Prof. Edgar Lewis Parks, from 'The History of MMI"


Chapter five: The Toys of Wonderland


Mind-machine interfaces were still a relatively new invention on Planet, but every notable faction, including the Progenitors, had already acquired the technology. The University of Planet had been the first, of course, but the Data-Angels managed to steal the prototype even before it had been presented to Zakharov. They then traded the tech dearly to all other interested factions. That meant everybody now had it; a sure sign of this was the enormous amount of applications for the MMI available from Morgan Entertainment.

To somewhat diminish the scandal, University scientists furiously improved upon the basic design. The prototype had been an inflexible and extremely ugly metallic protrusion following the spine of a petri-chimpanzee from the hip all the way up to the neck. It basically locked the user's spine into upright position. Certainly, no faction actually used this model; they had all improved on the design to various degrees. But the University had polished the design until it was unrecognizable.

And Dorothy got the latest model, since it was the Man Himself who had authorized it. This contained no inorganic parts at all; it was an extra network of nerves wrapped around her spine and brain, with high-capacity neural memory units inserted into her cranium and a central neural knot at the neck; there, a small skin-colored plug made of bone acted as an interface for the external neural/optic converter (analog neural/digital optic converters had been additionally miniaturized for this task). It would grow with her, essentially expanding and refining the interface, and didn't interfere with her everyday life in any way but positively.

With the unit came a simple device that fit in a pocket. With it, Dorothy would never be lost inside University territory, she could always locate the nearest store, ice-cream vendor or whatever else she wanted, she could send and receive messages, or download several free electronic newspapers. And much, much more.

The University's general excellence in mind/machine-interface-technology had it's negative effects as well. Most imported MMI-dependent wares needed adapters; no-one else had optic MMI:s. Also, because of this, the University traders had to downgrade their domestic production-models if they wanted to export them.

Since the MMI was a product, it could be sold; all factions except the University exported them. Current foreign leader in the number of installed MMI:s was the Gaians, because of the high quality of their surgery. But none of the foreign companies could offer the same high quality of MMI:s as the University's own manufacturers.

Since it could be sold, corporations could compete with the price. An imported, electrical MMI cost about one third as much as a homemade optical one (and you didn't need an adapter for all those Morganite entertainment-softwares if you had one of them). The University struck back; most public info-stations had been fitted with only optical MMI-links, and all of the University's own entertainment-products were offered only with optical connections.

Big deal. Two months later the market was flooded with adapters for University wares as well. Since they cost almost nothing compared to the actual interface, it seemed like the foreign models would conquer the markets.

Then, the University society's key element, elitism, showed itself. Public enquiries showed that nine tenths of all talents had an optic MMI. Normal workers used the cheap, imported electrical ones (and drones didn't use any, as a rule). This was now the latest status-symbol. To be someone you had to have one. To be someone important you needed an optical one. This brought happy (in)justice to the markets; optical MMI:s were a guaranteed seller since anyone who could afford it was certain to buy one.

And now Dorothy had one, at the quite early age of almost ten. At her birthday she got a toy to match it; The mono-grav's MMI-link (University-made, with an optic link, of course) would enable her to perform amazing acrobatic feats with ease, and removed the need of a clumsy pad for the counterweight-controls and the status-displays. It could display the current center of gravity, the wind-speed and the local tilt of the ground, mixed into Dorothy's normal view of her surroundings, like an internal HUD.

It was a classic example of University over-design since it still, underneath all these sensors, interface-links, gyros and counterweights, was a pedal-powered monocycle.

The MMI was the bigger of the gifts, however, even if it was implanted more than a week before her birthday (a two-hour operation, with one day of rest). Immediately the next day, as she returned to shool, she became the center of attention and the target of several jealous remarks. Even her teacher, miss Koskinen, was extremely interested, and to her Dorothy once again told the entire story. Furthermore, she could now use several new teaching-aids. Since the MMI could communicate very large and complex ideas in understandable form at the blink of an eye, it greatly enhanced the speed of learning. Also, it was the latest of tools that allowed you to sense and interact with virtual reality. But the MMI could perform the task much better than the previous interfaces combined, providing input to all the senses; A good enough virtual reality could become indistinguishable from actual reality, save for a nagging feeling that you didn't belong. Morganite entertainment-wares leaned heavily on this feature, while the University used it mainly for education.

Also, Dorothy soon discovered that this was a way to talk undisturbed to Methis.

Since she was allowed to visit the ape at any time, she was often present while Lewis' team still worked; also, at the beginning of a project all research-teams usually worked 'from dawn to dusk', an outdated concept that only meant they were at work for fourteen hours or more. Now that they knew Methis wasn't going anywhere, they used her much more: The new project, number 1159, involved massive simulations of quantum-physics, something the ape-algorithm fusion was designed to oversee. Thus, it was impractical for Dorothy to talk to her in the normal way; the scientists many times shouted commands to Methis from another room, or waist-deep inside some miniature (room-size or smaller, that is) atom-smasher that needed adjusting.

However, the results of the simulations Methis constructed were very complicated and hard to understand, even when presented as three-dimensional holographic diagrams. To make it easier, five heavy-duty MMI-links complete with recliners were installed next to Methis' bed. With these, the scientists could inspect the simulation and the results in virtual reality while they relaxed their bodies in a comfortable chair. All five seats were very rarely in use at the same time, so Dorothy could usually use one to talk to Methis, and to play with her. Methis had the ability to carry out several conversations at once with ease, so while the scientists talked to Methis about the latest simulation-run, Dorothy could be sharing secrets with her in virtual reality, or maybe play chess among the 'hills' and 'potholes' of the latest three-dimensional diagram. Methis could also construct and upload programs to Dorothy's MMI that she could use whenever she liked. Mostly it was some kind of game, or a memory-aid for school (like the periodic table including all isotopes with a half-life of a second or more).

In little more than a month, Dorothy's life had assumed a new and wondrous shape.


End of chapter five.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter six: Apprehensions of Immortality


In the wonderland at the other side of the crystal memory-cube, the roles were reversed. Methis could raise and smash entire worlds at the blink of an eye, while Dorothy could only move and watch, awed and amused. Compared to the ape, she was the cripple in virtual reality. Methis did teach her some simple design-commands, but Dorothy quickly realized she could never be as fast or as good as the chimp. She lost interest, and was more than happy to ask Methis to build the virtual worlds for her. But she didn't lose her awe of Methis' capabilities; so she asked her about them eventually, after she had lost another game of virtual chess.

">How come you are so smart now, Methis? I mean, compared to when I met you?<"

">Actually, I'm not that much 'smarter' now as when I met you. I've simply become happier, now that I have a friend to talk to.<"

">Allright, then, why are you so smart in general?<"

">Dorothy, 'smart' isn't a good word in this situation. I am very, very good at everything requiring logical- or memory skills, like chess. But otherwise I'm not much smarter than you. Yes, I have a very good memory, but that's just memory. Anyway.. to answer your question.. Do you realize that I am no longer the ape that you see?<"

">I don't understand. What do you mean?<"

">Dorothy, I am this computer much more than I am an ape. No mere ape could even understand your questions. It is in the computer that I actually 'live'; If something happened to my body, causing it to die, I would still be almost unhurt. In fact, there is a team of scientists right now working to create new bodies, or 'interfaces', for me and all my future brothers and sisters. I could have several bodies at the same time.<"

Dorothy was amazed. ">How is that possible? Weren't you born as a petri-chimp?<"

">Petri-chimps aren't born at all, Dorothy. But.. Yes, I did begin my life as one. But my body's only function has been to serve as a nursery for my mind, and to shape my thoughts in a certain way. Now there is little left but the shell, the parts of the brain required to relay 'my' sensory input to this computer, and the parts I need in order to sustain the body and use it, for example, to talk to you. But you must see it's not a very good body; it's small, and it can't move. The newer interfaces would have a more advanced link, and would be able to walk around; I could even have a human-looking interface. I am the University's first Sentient Algorithm, Dorothy, even if your father cheated and didn't create me as a digital being from the start. My body consists of bits of code, and I am, when all is said and done, a tool at the core of my being. I must obey the commands of those persons, like you, who are authorized to use me.<"

">You mean you could have a body -an interface- that looked like me?<" In virtual reality, Methis had already mimicked Dorothy's form several times, leading to several amusing games of 'Dorothy Says'.

">Yes, that's entirely possible. I think it would be wrong to make one without asking your permission first, however.<"

">Can you use anyone that has a mind/machine interface for this?<" she was getting slightly scared.

">No. I don't use a normal MMI. The system I use is much bigger; much more powerful, and some of it has to be implanted already at the embryo-stage of the living interface; the foetus' mind develops in a new direction and is slowly converted to an algorithm, learning the necessary skills for living as one at the same time. But as far as I can tell it is theoretically possible to create adult interfaces; the Cyborgs can merge adult humans with their Algorithms, after all, and that is a process very similar to what you are talking about. But so far, they are the only ones that can. The closest we can come is MMI-transmitted communication, like what we are doing now.<"

">I don't know if I could get used to the idea of you still being the same person even when you look like someone else.<"

">But I will always look the same, now. As I said, I now exist inside the computer; as long as it stays the same, I will do so too. And I can manage my mind; I can move my memories around so that the different parts of the computer can be replaced without changing me in the process.<"

">That sounds creepy. Why did they do all this?<"

">You mean project 292? You know, Lewis, your father, actually doesn't know. He was simply told to investigate the possibilities of certain living interfaces, and he, Dr. Andersen and their team did so to the best of their abilities. I am the result; the prototype. And I have found out why they did all this: It's immortality they're after, Dorothy. I am technically immortal now, something I couldn't dream of if I were a mere chimpanzee. And that's another fact; sooner or later, my current interface will die of old age. Then, at the very latest, you'd have to get used to the fact that I have a new body.<"

A long silence followed as Dorothy let all of this sink in. Then:

">Won't you miss your old bod -I mean interface?"<

">No; why should I? I'll get a better one. Or five. And first I'll be able to explore this room; actually move around in it! Then, as the technology improves, there will eventually exist a wireless link between my mainframe and my interfaces. Then, Dorothy, I will be free! To explore; to feel the wind and the sun.. to travel.. you don't know how much I look forward to that. By nature and by my programming I am curious; and this outside world you can freely live in, but that I can only experience through pictures and movies, it's call is irresistble. Think how great it would be..<"

">But I don't understand. Why would people like Zakharov order experiments like this to find immortality? Isn't he immortal already? Dad says he's more than three hundred years old!<"

">That's because of the longevity-treatment. But having to sleep in a tank for one month every year isn't very practical, even if it is a small price to pay. Also, it is ridiculously costly in time and effort; consequently the energy-credit price is by no measure small. Compare his situation to me; I will live forever, while using a horde of different bodies that I casually discard once they are spent. If I like one body in particular, it can be cloned. If you look at it like that, I am now better off than Zakharov.<"

Methis pauses so that Dorothy can ask questions. Since she does not appear to have any, Methis continues.

">And this project was a major breakthrough: Your dad has proved, even as he thought he was working only on living interfaces, that sentient beings can be transferred from a biological existence to a digital one. This is the first step to immortality; a step that the Cyborgs can do in reverse since they download and merge a digital sentience to an organic one. Of course, there are still many obstacles that need to be cleared; the biggest one being the current requirement that the process takes years and must begin while the subject is an embryo. The age of immortality truly begins once people of any age can transfer their selves to a computer like this one.<"

">Sounds like the time for that is still far off.<"

">Of course. The cybernetic consciousness might have some of the answers; they know most about the art of constructing digital/organic mindlinks. Of course, their technique removes all traces of emotion; they consider this a bonus. Everybody else except the Gaians, who for some obscure reason are allied with them, consider them mentally unstable.<"

">Do you have emotions?<"

">Yes. Lewis didn't remove any part of my brain, so I have all the mental qualities of a normal, sentient and biological being.<"

Dorothy sat down on a hill formed by the energy-signature of a helium-atom in a three-dimensional diagram. She looked forlorn. ">I wouldn't like being a computer, especially if you have to obey others all your life -no offense-, but I wouldn't like to grow old and die either..<"

Methis, who currently looked like a mirror-image of Dorothy, smiled and sat down beside her. ">Oh dear, did I give you apprehensions of mortality? You wouldn't have to obey anything; you would be an autonomous digital personality; nothing less. Also, I can tell you a secret your dad knows. I think he's saving it for that picnic you are planning for tomorrow, but I hate seeing you so sad. You see, a part of the privileges your dad received for his excellent work is free longevity-treatments amounting to twenty standard years of extended life for him, your mom and you. Further, it is generally known that children receive a much greater benefit from longevity-treatments; in essence, if you start the process as quickly as possible the effects will last almost twice as long! In fact, I think you'd better let two years pass between treatments; that way you'll at least age a little between them. How does it feel, knowing you could still be in your biological teens thirty years from now? And in thirty years, who knows what will be invented? I can tell you that there is currently a secret project going on in some lab, somewhere in this city; maybe even next door? It has a catching title; the Longevity Vaccine.<"

***

Methis was right. The next day, during the picnic to the Centauri Preserve, Lewis revealed his secret. After the hugs and cheers, it was decided -for the very reason of Dorothy's young age- that the family would take the treatment together, as soon as possible. Lewis also told Dorothy that Methis would be directing and supervising the treatment; she could have future benefits from the detailed lessons in human biochemistry she'd get. In part, it would be a grand experiment: Zakharov had requested Lewis to find out if he could carry out a normal, daily cycle of sleep rather than the twenty-four-hours-a-day coma that was customary.

Traditionally this would have been very uncomfortable; Longevity-treatment was performed while the subject was completely immersed in a cold liquid; you even breathed it. However, Zakharov wanted to find out if you could carry on working if a virtual existence was created for you, completely detached from the coldness and drowning feeling of your body, thanks to MMI-technology. This was a promising thought; that way, Lewis would still be able to work, and Dorothy would also be able to attend school (via a camera mounted in the classroom). And if it was successful, Zakharov would have an edge of one month's activity a year compared to the other faction-leaders.

Lewis had agreed to the test at once. He already had a state-of-the-art MMI, as it was essential in his work. Jessica had one too, but she chose the traditional method of sleeping the entire month. Lewis carefully explained the options to Dorothy, pointing out that this had never been tried before, but her choice was obvious once Methis reminded her that they could be together for the entire month if she accepted.

The family was told they could check in at the clinic in three days' time; before that a solid comm-link had to be built between Methis and the longevity-tanks, surgical units capable of performing any imaginable medical procedure from gene-manipulation to amputations, and she had to absorb the huge amounts of relevant medical data. Also, Lewis' lab and Dorothy's classroom had to be fitted with holoprojector/recorders.

All that remained for the Parks' family was to prepare themselves, and tell friends not to be startled if Lewis or Dorothy phoned them from the tanks...


End of chapter six.

[Raging Mouse]

"Ah, what a blessed tool the Longevity Clinic turned out to be! What amazing results even the most dim of my researchers could produce, were I to offer him a few extra months of existence in exchange for some discovery in his field of expertise. Few people actually managed this but even the failures contributed immensely to our general knowledge. And those that surpassed my expectations were richly rewarded. But only one or two per century -like the Parks- could ever surpass my imagination. Of course, using the Clinic such was highly immoral -but then, that has never been an obstacle. My conscience rarely stirs nowadays."

-Reprinted by permission of Sinder Roze, from her book 'Zakharov's Personal Diary'


Chapter Seven: Rites of preparation


Next morning when Dorothy entered her classroom she found it in a state of upheaval. A team of technicians had drilled large holes in the middle of the roof and the floor, and were now manhandling the two halves of the holoprojector/recorder into them. The other children swarmed around the men, asking questions and generally being in the way. In the front of the room miss Koskinen was watching the circus with a mildly disapproving frown, and wincing every time one of the technicians cursed.

"Hi, miss Koskinen! Um, sorry about the mess; I suppose it's my fault really..."

"What!? Why? What has this got to do with you?"

"Well, I have to do some remote studying during the next month or so. I'll miss school tomorrow, in any case."

"But why, Dorothy? Where are you going?"

"To the Longevity Clinic!"

Those words were like magic. Suddenly the technicians lost all their news-value, and Dorothy gained a significantly larger amount of the same. Her classmates bombarded her with questions until miss Koskinen lost her patience and told them to quiet down.

"Dorothy, we'll discuss this after the last lesson. Now listen, everybody! We'll start today's lessons and see how far we'll manage, all things considered.." The sound of a drill forced her to raise her voice halfway through the sentence.

Six chaotic hours later, Dorothy once again held a large cup of cocoa in her hands, with miss Koskinen watching her.

"Now, Dorothy, please tell me everything."

And she did, in detail. This time, when she had finished, Dorothy did manage to notice the increasing shine in miss Koskinen's eyes.

"Miss Koskinen? Are you all right? Only, you are looking so shocked..."

The teacher clapped her hands and beamed. "I'm so terribly happy and excited! What a lucky, lucky girl you are, Dorothy!" She hugged the girl. "This is so exciting! To think that you, one of my own pupil, will experience this!"

Several hugs and praises later Dorothy left.


Two days later the Parks arrived at Longevity Clinic. Doctor Zakharov greeted them; this was a surprise even for Lewis. Prokhor had summoned the press; he intended to announce the experiment to the entire nation, and let the public follow it's progress. Consequently, the family was extensively interviewed and each family-member's motives (for both accepting and declining to participate) were sorted out in detail, paying special attention to Dorothy (who'd score a lot of cutesy-points from the viewers). This took three quarters of an hour; then it was the medical staff's turn to present itself. As Methis still was top secret, neither she nor her part in all of this was mentioned. Finally, Zakharov made a long speech, praising the patriotism of the family and University scientists in general.

When the news-teams had scattered -there was no sense in hanging around; they knew the exact time the Parks would enter their tanks, and would show up again well before that- Zakharov turned to Lewis and smiled apologetically.

"Please forgive me; I only realized this morning what symbolic value this little experiment has, so I had no time to warn you of all this."

Lewis, still stunned from the experience, muttered "it's all right, I suppose..."

Zakharov also apologized to Jessica and Dorothy, and got the same kind of stunned answers. Then some medical technicians came and told Jessica they had a questionnaire that had to be answered. She followed them while Lewis and Dorothy were further informed by Prokhor.

"At the end of every week a panel of scientists will ask questions regarding your general well-being and mood. You, Lewis, will answer most of them, but they will also have some questions to you" he said, turning to Dorothy. "The discussion will be holovised, so be representative in your answers. Also, since we can't allow any reporters into Lewis' lab, they will almost certainly come and watch you while you're 'attending' class, Dorothy. Be prepared for that."

Dorothy nodded. Dr. Zakharov laid his hands on her shoulders. "You are an exceptional girl. I wish more of our young ones these days had your fearlessness towards technology and the power it hands us; then no-one would be able to withstand the University of Planet!"

He led them into the preparation room, where Jessica was already waiting. They were given hospital gowns to wear, and their belongings were stored in a closet. Then they were guided to some wheelchairs and some mild relaxants were injected. The news-teams were returning, and there was already quite a few of them watching as the family was wheeled into the longevity-labs. The room was huge; exactly how big was hard to tell, since it was very sparsely illuminated. The only light came from rows upon rows of longevity-tanks as their lights switched on or off to maintain the day-night cycle for the body's light-dependent chemical processes (like maintaining a healthy sun-tan).

At the back of the labs was a row of three empty tanks with their lights on; Dorothy's weelchair was parked in front of the middle one. A med-tech signalled to the news-teams for some silence.

"Starting the procedure requires four of us, so we will help you into your tanks one at a time. Jessica, we will attend to you first, then you, Dorothy, and finally you, Doctor Parks." She motioned to the three other technicians, and all four helped Jessica onto a plastic mattress inside the tank. She smiled at Dorothy. "See you in a month, dearest." Then the technicians applied the electrodes of a somna-inducer to her head, and she was instantly asleep. Next a number of catethers, nourishment-tubes and further electrodes were applied, and the tank's transparent cover was closed. Dorothy watched as a blue gelatinous liquid poured into Jessica's tank; it was filled within seconds. Jessica took a deep breath in her sleep, and exhaled a large bubble of air that rose slowly. Another breath, and a much smaller bubble was exhaled. Then Jessica was breathing liquid.

Satisfied that Jessica had been successfully installed in the tank, the med-techs turned their attention to Dorothy. She was quickly lifted onto her own mattress, and as a med-tech prepared the sleep-inducer she took one last look at the scene: She was in a pool of light in a dark room. Off to one side Lewis was grinning and waving, and a little further away the news-teams stood, most of them with a news-reporter commenting the events as they happened. And behind them, more tanks in pretty rows, some illuminated and some dark.

Not the most usual of sights before falling asleep.


End of chapter seven.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter eight: Bottleneck


Now see father and daughter, stabbing fish with their forks and having a bite to see how they taste.

Lewis and Dorothy were eating breakfast. Since reality was subject to whim, they were in one of the dining-rooms onboard the sunken Titanic in one of mythical Earth's oceans. A squid in a tuxedo (Methis) served them.

Lewis lowered the fish he had been eating. "Excellent food, Methis. You have my compliments."

Methis switched form to a tall, well-oiled waiter. "Thank thee, m'sir, although I have to mention, in order to prevent possible future accidents, that raw salmon probably tastes quite differently in reality. And what would you like for your ninth course? The chef recommends the ice-cream figment d' imagination."

"Yes! Ice-cream!" Dorothy bounced on her chair, then stopped and grimaced.

"Dad, why is it that all of this feels both real and unreal at the same time?"

"You mean, wood feels like wood, moray-eel tastes like moray-eel -possibly- but at the same time you feel out of place?"

"Something like that. I can't describe it better; I mean, we're surrounded by water and can still talk, there's fish swimming in and out of those big things, the.." She pointed.

"..Chandeliers.." Every word produced a stream of bubbles that rose towards the ceiling.

"..Chandeliers. Right. And all that's all right, but still everything seems.. not concerning me, if you know what I mean. Also, whenever I move quickly I feel nauseous." This was day three of the Longevity-treatment, and the feeling was beginning to grate on her nerves.

"I know exactly what you mean, Dorothy: It's the bottleneck of the MMI you are referring to. You see, when you wish to turn your head, for instance, a neural impulse travels from the motoric centers of the brain to your spine. On the way the impulse is caught by the MMI's own interfaces, and translated into a movement-command for the system upkeeping the virtual reality; in this case it's Methis. The system moves you in relation to the surrounding 'terrain', and your bodyparts in relation to each other, and calculates the sense-data you will receive from your new location; sight, hearing, sound, smell, touch, taste, whatever. This data is then transmitted back to your MMI, where it is translated into neural impulses and distributed to the nerves leading to the various sense-organs. For instance, what you will see is transmitted to the bundle of nerves going from your eyes to the back of your brain."

"Yes? So?"

"All these complex phases take time to perform, and none are as slow, still today, as the MMI's neural/digital conversion. You could say that your MMI is a bottleneck impeding the flow of information. It has to handle the most complex calculations of all the steps, and is therefore the slowest to complete it's tasks. Plus, of course, that your brain-chemistry happens at it's own unsynchronized rate, forcing the MMI to interpret rather large chunks of data at a time. Anyway, all this means that it will take some time once you have decided to move before you actually change position and location. This is called a lag, and it is the reason why you feel out of place; the world is always a bit behind compared to your opinion of where you should be. This is of course more apparent when you move quickly."

"Oh. What can be done about it?"

"Not much. One solution would be a much bigger, more powerful MMI with larger storage-space, but then we'd have to change the standards. I've been working on it, but no actual design is bound to appear for several years. Of course, if it really bothers you, Methis can put you to sleep for the rest of the month. But that would be sad, since the experiment would be partially failed."

Dorothy turned to Methis. "It must have been horrible for you to feel like this all the time while you were still in part a chimpanzee."

Methis smiled and shook her head. "I've never felt like that, Dorothy. The link between my body and the interface could be described exactly as a 'bigger, more powerful MMI with more storage space'. It didn't stop at catching impulses from the optic nerve and the likes; it was connected directly to the parts of the brain that interpret those impulses; eventually it had replaced the functions of the entire brain, including the parts I used to think and remember with. That meant that my consciousness was inside the computer, and the transformation to pure algorithm was complete."

Dorothy turned back to Lewis. "Doesn't it bother you, dad?"

"Yes, If I'd be as restless as you it would. I am careful not to move too fast, and so the feeling never grows too strong. Why don't you try it? It'd do you good to learn how to sit still."

Dorothy did a very good performance of sitting still and grumbling.

Methis turned to her father. "Lewis, your talk of a new standard for MMI:s intrigues me. What features would you include?" They were quickly lost in a sea of technical terms, and Dorothy finished her ice-cream and left. She walked along the impressive ballrooms and restaurants, dodging the occasional school of fish, but it didn't improve her mood.

Knowing that your body was lagging behind your mind put you off the thought of running.


****


Now look elsewhere, at Dr. Andersen, glad to be single right now.

Who would have imagined meeting an extremely charismatic lady at his age? But there she had stood, striking up a conversation. Soon they were both laughing, and she asked if they could meet over dinner. She told him that she was the head of marketing at a small company that produced high-quality alternative entertainment for MMI:s. She was attempting to receive University approval for their own add-on to standard MMI-implants, so that they could sell their products using these additional features. A mere formality, she said. They'd get to place the official University badge of approval on the packages, and the add-on could be installed to University MMI:s without voiding the warranty.

For the first time in several decades, Dr. Andersen was aware of the patches of grey in his hair and beard. Beatrice, for that was her name, didn't seem to care. She suggested that maybe if a prominent researcher like himself was to use the company's wares, the University's user-safety watchdogs would cut through the red tape a bit quicker. She told him it would be well worth the time: She'd give him an expansion-unit for free; she could even pay for the surgery. It only required one day, and then you needed to learn some simple mental tools before software installation. No big effort at all.

Dr. Andersen agreed. This obviously pleased Beatrice immensely.


End of chapter eight.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter nine: Unraveling Minds


Watch the girl sitting in a windswept xenofungal field.

Dorothy was distraught. Only six days had passed and she was already tempted to leave the experiment and sleep for the rest of the treatment like Jessica. And why? For the sake of a feeling! But she knew she couldn't stand it anymore. Yesterday, when she'd attended the virtual class and miss Koskinen had asked her a question, she had been brooding over this very problem. When she heard the teacher call her name, Dorothy had snapped to attention; a bad move. She had been nauseous for quite some time.

But she also wanted to continue; otherwise she'd disappoint Lewis, and all those people who followed the experiment at home (some news-teams actually showed up every day at school). She'd even disappoint Prokhor Zakharov himself. Disappointing Zakharov was something you Did Not Do.

She was still shuddering at the thought, and idly gazing at the University-controlled artifacts known as the 'ruins', when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She yelped and spun around.

"Methis!"

"Sorry, sorry; didn't mean to scare you." Methis noticed the red streaks on Dorothy's cheeks. "You look so sad, Dorothy. Is something wrong?"

"Um.. Yes." Dorothy sighed, and sat down on a thick growth of xenofungus. "I don't know why, but I hate the feeling of not being here. I'm sick of it! I'd like to leave the experiment, but that would be disappointing everybody... I just can't do that."

"I'm sure they would understand if you explained the problem to them. You are not the first one to experience this, Dorothy; there is a medical definition for it: MMI-oversensitivity. And there is only one listed cure; reducing the amount of time per day spent in virtual reality."

"Oh nooo..." She sighed. "Can't you think of any other way?"

Now methis proved that she still had a lot to learn about keeping your mouth shut; she tried to deconstruct the problem logically. "Let's see: Your problem is caused by a lag in the MMI. So there's really only two ways; stop using the MMI, or speed it up somehow..."

Dorothy's head shot up. Half a second later she groaned, and lowered it slowly back again. Methis looked anxiously at her, not sure what to do. Eventually, Dorothy turned her head slightly and whispered: "What was that you said about speeding up the MMI?"

"Well, If you got it upgraded to incorporate the techniques that Lewis designed for my interfaces, it would be linked directly to virtually all parts of your nervous system and brain..."

"Yes, I remember now. You talked about it three days ago, right?"

"Yes. Well, to sum it up, with an MMI like that you would be completely immersed in your environment; most of your brain-activity would even be taken over by the MMI when you'd use any of it's functions; all of this would reduce the lag to virtually zero.

"How could I get the upgrade? I can't use my real body, and I don't want to ask dad."

There was a long pause from Methis. "Dorothy, you aren't seriously considering this, are you?"

She nodded slowly, but determinedly. "Yes I am. It's the only way."

Another long pause: "You'd essentially get an extra spinal cord, and several new areas of the brain! I can't even guess at all the risks involved! There is no way the benefits could justify the risks."

"Methis, you can't know how bad I feel! And I will not quit from the experiment! Now tell me, how could I get this upgrade here and now? Please?"

A pause. "It's simple.. I would design and install it. I have the technology for your current MMI in my memory, since it is considered relevant medical data. So I could tailor the upgrade specifically for your interface. And I'm performing cellular surgery on you right now as it is. To me, it presents nothing but an interesting problem, if I isolate it from context. But the context is, I'd be performing an unauthorized and unsupervised experiment on you. I am responsible for your safety, and wouldn't want to endanger you in any way."

For the first time, Dorothy hesitates. "Would it be.. would It have all those ugly contacts you have?"

"No; that is outdated technology. The optic link is quite sufficient, and the added nerves and neurons would leave no exernal sign. But you'd create some quite interesting pictures in a roentgen or CAT-scan."

Now there is a long pause while Dorothy studies the pillars in the horizon. Then: "Do it."

"Dorothy, if you definitely want to do this then please let me create some defensive software to block and even fight unwanted access to the more sensitive areas of your mind. You must understand; if something goes wrong this technology could damage parts or all of your mind. This could also be done on purpose."

"I.. hadn't thought of that.. Um, do that. And don't tell anyone."

"Very well. The design will be ready in minutes, and I'll upgrade your MMI during your next period of sleep. You know, I am forced by my programming to obey you, but I can tell you I don't like this one bit."

"Well you are lucky; you don't have any alternatives. Speaking of sleep.. I'm tired."

On cue, a bed covered in flower-petals rose from among the xenofungus. Methis shrugged.

"You know, even I am amazed. I've just performed research and design merely to help you that would have taken your father and his team several years. I scare myself, sometimes.." especially when I have to obey extremely ill-advised requests, she thought.

"Thank you.." Dorothy yawned (out of habit), and closed her eyes. Methis set to work.


****


Now see father and daughter the next day.

"..So the biggest item is the effects created by MMI-lag. Dorothy has complained about it, and even I have found the phenomenon irritating sometimes."

The group of cybernetics-experts turned towards Dorothy with looks of concern. They were standing around the dais in a lecturing-room; the seats were occupied with reporters. Lewis and Dorothy were attending via a holoprojector/recorder. The first of four weekly progress-reports was drawing to a close.

"Is this true, Dorothy? Does it bother you still?"

Dorothy smiled. "Yes, it's true, but I've got over it."

The experts looked at each other; they seemed to be satisfied with what they had heard. Their spokeswoman turned to Lewis: "Thank you; it's good to know everything is proceeding without much difficulty. If your next progress-report is equally good, Zakharov is expected to authorize the technique for general usage."

"That's good to hear. This is certainly better than sleeping for a month every year."

The meeting had ended, and the audience was leaving. Dorothy tugged on Lewis' labcoat (Their presences were both simulated via holo-projectors, and Methis could certainly produce the necessary effects of contact between the two holograms).

"Dad, can I go? I want to play with Methis."

"Go right ahead, dear. I'm going to talk some more."

Dorothy disappeared, and Lewis turned back to the experts.

"By the way, I was expecting my colleauge; Dr. Andersen; I wanted to discuss some plans I have regarding MMI:s. Do you know where he is?"

One of the younger men cleared his throat. "Dr. Andersen has taken some days off; he's undergoing surgery."

"Really? Is it something serious?"

"No; as a matter of fact he said he was upgrading his MMI."

"Oh? Funny, I thought he had the latest model installed already last year."

The junior cybernetics-expert shrugged. "So did I. Anyway, he said he'll be back tomorrow."

"Good."

The discussion wandered on to other matters.


End of chapter nine.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter ten: Gambit


"That's right... Just relax.." Lucky bastard Beatrice -alias Rita Koskinen- thought as she watched Dr. Andersen fall into trance. Since Dr. Andersen's skills were exclusively logical it guaranteed that he would be a good receiver for the Algorithm. Rita envied him; his merger was certain to succeed, and he would probably advance quickly beyond the first stage. Life was unfair.

Rita and Dr. Andersen were both linked via their MMI:s to a large jet-black cube. Through it, Rita received information on Dr. Andersen's progress, and he got some calming sounds, like the wind in a field of xenofungus. Rita watched as his trance passed the treshold-level; the box activated and started to deepen it. In a matter of seconds no mere hypnotist could have brought Dr. Andersen back.

Then downloading started. Rita sighed; last time she had experienced the peace of mind that the Algorithm bestowed was several years ago, and it had lasted only for days. Still; it would soon be Rita's turn again. She would need the Algorithm's presence when her goal was at hand.

Two hours later downloading was complete, and the Algorithm merged with Dr. Andersen. He opened his eyes as if the deep trance had been nothing but a catnap.

"Welcome to the Consciousness, Dr. Andersen. The splinter of the Algorithm that is now you is known as Iota-ninteen. So your new name is Andersen Iota-Nineteen."

Andersen's eyes focused. "Yes. I know this is so."

Rita showed him some crystalline cubes. "Now, there are some things you need to do for the Consciousness; here, take these holo-memories. On one of them are designs for the additions to the MMI necessary to enable downloading of -and merger with- the Algorithm. I want you to instruct Methis to upgrade Lewis, Jessica and Dorothy Parks' MMI:s to incorporate them. On the other three are one splinter each of the Algorithm. Once their MMI:s are ready, install -but do not activate- them. Can you do all this?"

Andersen was silent for a while. Then: "No. I cannot upgrade Lewis Parks' MMI without detection. Also, I can't install any of their Algorithms without being detected."

This surprised Rita. "Why not?"

"Item one: Lewis Parks' MMI has been designed to prevent tampering. This is standard for all Project Leaders. Thus, upgrading would fail. Item two: Methis checks all data sent through her systems; she'd recognize the Algorithms. She would deduce my intent, which would cancel my authorization to use her systems, and she'd sound the alarm. And even if Methis could be bypassed, the Parks will be tested by psychiatrists at the end of their treatment. It's standard for all situations involving brain surgery, and the brain is one of the main areas of longevity-treatment. The psychiatrists would easily detect the presence of the Algorithm, especially if they are empaths."

Rita thought for a while and then shrugged. "Can't be helped. I'll have to find another way to install their fragments of the Algorithm. And Lewis can be dealt with once Dorothy and Jessica are part of the Consciousness. Now go and upgrade those two MMI:s." She took back three of the cubes.


****


No-one except the guards worked regularly in the lab-complex during the nights (but there were stories... and you could sometimes bump into a scientist who couldn't sleep until a promising theory had beeen tested). Andersen Iota-Nineteen entered the empty lab and turned on the lights.

"Welcome back, Dr. Andersen." A pale and hairless humanoid figure tottered into view from behind the computer. It had a cable attached to it's neck and was clad in a grey overall.

"Hello, Methis. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. But I see you have trouble walking with your new interface."

"Yes, indeed, but I expect I'll learn. But how are you, Doctor? I understood you have upgraded your MMI; are the new features working well?"

"Yes they are, Methis. I am very satisfied with them." Andersen had walked up to a console and inserted the holo-memory.

"What's this, Dr. Andersen?"

"It's a little something that Dr. Zakharov wants done in all secrecy: An addition to Dorothy's and Jessica Parks' MMI:s. Read the specs and implement them tonight so it's ready before they wake up. Don't tell anyone; not even the Parks. Make sure their medical records indicate that they have normal MMI:s and nothing more. I know that Lewis has access to the family's records"

If Methis hadn't been told not to reveal anything, she would have informed Dr. Andersen that Dorothy already had many of the necessary neural paths installed. Now she merely installed the additional ones.

"Affirmative. Opening medical records.. calculating required additions.. done. Starting installation. It will be complete in two hours' time."

"Excellent. Then I'll be off."

"Before you go.. I'm concerned; what are these additions supposed to do? They are very big, and have extensive connections to all areas of the brain."

"Actually, I'm not sure what they are supposed to do. I expect Zakharov has his reasons; I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

Methis had several cameras in the infrared range, and she could use them to detect lies. But Andersen Iota-Nineteen was not that emotional about lying anymore.

"Allright then; hope you didn't mind me asking. I care much for Dorothy, and don't want her to be hurt. I hope you understand."

"I didn't mind. I'm sure she'll be fine. Good night."

"Good night."


****


He returned to Rita. "The MMI:s are being installed right now."

"Good. We'll continue when the Parks are out of their tanks. That leaves three weeks' time in which you have much to learn about your new life. Fortunately, the Algorithm will speed things up..."


End of chapter ten.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter eleven: Rita


Rita Koskinen had been born a potential Gaian talent. But unlike University society, so rigidly stratified, the Gaians treated all children equally. Only a small footnote on her birth records showed that both her parents had been Talents.

However, neither did they suppress any individualism. When Rita at the age of nine could recite, from memory, several famous scenes from plays by Shakespeare (The antique English writer, not the contemporary Morganite one) at a talent-show arranged by her children's creche, she was awarded a scholarship. She was moved to a school for the specially gifted, where her skills were precisely defined; she was exceptionally empathic (almost telepathic) and had a great gift for poetry, singing and social skills in general.

Always when the memory resurfaces, she still grimaces at the irony of it all; the very first week at her new class she got kidnapped by a Cyborg probe-team.

At the time, the Cybernetic Consciousness tested it's muscle in war for the first time. Unfortunately, they were the defenders, and if they would have had the opportunity they'd have chosen anything but to fight a Progenitor faction. As it was, the Caretakers were effortlessly slaughtering Cyborg soldiers and citizens. At the time of the kidnapping the entire faction was on the brink of destruction, having lost over half of it's cities to the Caretakers. All of the remaining cities were rather small and consisted mostly of drones and workers; only a tiny part of the population was suitable for full merger with the Algorithm. This had to be changed.

So probe-teams were sent to the closest human faction, i.e. the Gaians. Their mission: seek out and extract all available families that included Talents; especially families with children. The team that raided Rita's school took all twenty of the children in her class. At the same time, the homes of twenty families were raided; their occupants also kidnapped. Some, of course, managed to fight back. Among those lost were Rita's parents; thus she was smuggled out of Gaian territory newly orphaned.

There were stories circulating about the process that merged a human with a part of the Algorithm. Some said you were drugged. Some said you were brainwashed. Others, again, said you were tortured.

The reality was different, of course. The process achieved far better results when applied to a willing subject that had been taught some very simple mental tools. That cancelled out all of the above methods; instead the Consciousness appealed first to your greed and then to your desire to belong. The captives, who numbered about fifty, were herded into a luxurious 'camp'. Every morning a trained speaker would praise the Algorithm and the benefits of merging with it. Also, great wealth and an influential position within Cybernetic society was promised to those who'd accept.

This usually led to results; the first week three of the greediest accepted. The next week, they were back; newly fitted with the first stage of the cybernetics that served as an interface to the Algorithm. They tried to persuade their families to join; this usually happened. And the families had friends. Thus, the third week Rita's best friend from the Children's creche, Kim, accepted to merge with the Algorithm after warm recommendations by his mother. Rita had relied heavily on the presence of her friend, and was distraught. The fourth week Kim of course returned to persuade Rita to join. This took all of two minutes.

Kim's family adopted Rita and taught her the mental techniques that would enhance the merger. They were very simple, so she learned them within a day. No time was wasted; the first stage of the merger was performed next morning. So started the year in Rita's life that she remembers most fondly. When she woke up from the operation all the sadness and fear was gone. In their place was a rosy, warm conviction that everything now was exactly right. She could sense the very first whispers of the Algorithm; the standard level of communication during the first stage, and although she couldn't make out any words (or, to be precise, thoughts) the general effect was soothing.

But the merger was declared a failure. Rita's special talents gradually weakened as the year went on, until she was indistinguishable from a normal worker. This also meant that her potential compatibility with the Algorithm dropped. Eventually, the overseer who measured her progress decided that she was more valuable to the Cyborgs as an unmerged Talent. The first-stage implants were removed (using a closely-guarded technique), and she was assigned to a school for probe-teams: Her social skills, when honed, would be excellent tools for the persuasion of more merger-candidates and other forms of brain-drain.

She didn't think for a minute about disobeying. The year spent in contact with the Algorithm had left her emotionally hooked; without it she felt exposed to, and frightened by, the uncertainties of the world. She was told that good behaviour and successful missions were usually rewarded with a period of R&R, usually spent with re-installed first-stage cybernetics, so that you could relay your experiences to the Algorithm and receive training from it.

Ten years later, while Rita received the final parts of her probe-training, the war with the Caretakers ended. The Usurpers and the Hive had joined forces, and were crushing Caretaker defenses elsewhere. Lular H'minee offered both blood-truce and a treaty of trade, meant to improve relations, and Aki-Zeta five was quick to accept. Soon thereafter the Gaians offered a Pact with the Cyborgs: They were busy fighting the Data-Angels, who had been framed for the kidnappings, and needed better probe-teams to solidify their defense. To further improve relations, and to add to the lie, a number of probe-operations were staged and a number of people 'rescued from the Angels' labour-camps'. One of the probes thus planted into Gaian territory was Rita.

For ten years she climbed the social ladder, eventually becoming the boss of a small company, while at the same time persuading Gaian talents and researchers to defect to the Cyborgs. Recent technological breakthroughs had made this easier; the first stage of the Algorithm-interface had been miniaturized until no parts of it were visible on the outside of the carrier. Thus Rita could have inactive first-stage implants all the time without serious risk of being detected. Also, the MMI was an extremely convenient tool for the downloading of the Algorithm, provided it was enhanced with Cyborg technology and greatly expanded. These two advances meant that the Merger could be carried out in another faction's territory.

Finally, advances in the merging process had removed the need for the subject to know that he was attempting to merge with the Algorithm. Thus, If you could fool someone to install the upgraded MMI and learn the techniques for relaxing your mind, making it receptive, he wouldn't know what had happened until he opened his eyes as a totally loyal part of the Consciousness.

So Rita's job was easy. Then the Caretakers launched a surprise-attack on an undefended Cyborg base, killing thousands.

A new, and much more furious, vendetta started. This time, however, the Cyborgs weren't alone; the Gaians were still their allies, and they had troops to spare. Also, the gap in technology was much smaller, and the armies were about as big. Nevertheless, great casualties were predicted. Wiser from the previous war the Cybernetic Consciousness decided to act preemptively, before the talent-shortage again reached catastrophic proportions. Thus, Cyborg probes once again began to actively seek out families with Talents. This time, however, the Gaians were an unsuitable target; they had much better probe-security now. Instead, the Gaians' closest neighbour, the University of Planet with it's unusually high natural ratio of talents, was the logical choice. Furthermore, the University was inherently bad at probe-security, a situation worsened by it's democratic form of government and it's incessant pursuit of knowledge.

So Rita sold her company (to a Cyborg buyer) and used the energy-credits to migrate to the University, where she applied for a job as a children's teacher. In no time at all she had a fully functional network of probe-operatives set up and started searching for promising families; a task made easier when she was employed (after some pulling of strings by the school's Cyborg/Gaian sponsor) by the Alexei Leonov School for the Gifted. Dorothy's school, that is.

Then Dorothy told her about Methis. Rita of course reported this to her contacts, and was very surprised when she got an immediate reply: The Parks family, especially Lewis and Dorothy, were targets number one. Apparently, Lewis had some information that the Consciousness wanted badly, and Dorothy had an unusually high potential to become a Merged Talent.

However, since it was such a high-profile target there were big problems. Rita had quickly guessed that the man who recently had started hanging out near the school and watching Dorothy was a counterinsurgency-agent of the University. The task would be made considerably easier if Rita somehow managed to gain some or all of the family-members' cooperation before the extraction.

But how? The scenario that virtually guaranteed cooperation was, of course, to merge them with the first stage of the Algorithm already now. They didn't have to actually know what they were doing, As long as they got the implants, learned the mental tools and started the merger-process with their mental guards down. But the implants required major surgery, something that was impossible to perform secretly unless, again, the family cooperated. The expansions needed could not be called upgrades, since Lewis was an expert on cybernetics and would smell the lie from the next country. Also, Dorothy was supposed to have the best model of MMI:s there was. You couldn't propose to upgrade that.

It all amounted to an equation that seemed impossible to solve logically, until Dorothy had announced her vacation at the longevity labs, and Rita had taken a moment to savour the real reason she had been so happy. The way she'd been feeling, with all the pieces of the puzzle sorting out themselves, had been the closest she had come to the feeling of being merged with the Algorithm. She had had to report what Dorothy had said, and she could guess the answer.

It had come as a live comm-link only a quarter of an hour later. Her closest superior in Gaian territory, a man called Armand, had greeted her with an approving nod.

"This is excellent news, Rita. Having the entire family undergo longevity-treatment puts them in the care of Planet's most advanced automated surgical units. They should be more than capable of installing the necessary interfaces, and the lesser algorithm known as Methis will be perfect for carrying out the task. However, you will need to first persuade someone with access to Methis to help you; Dr. Andersen is the perfect target. You are authorized to contact one of our surgeons, mr. Klaus Schwartz, if you manage to lure dr. Andersen into merging with the Algorithm. We're certain that a deception is required; he's unlikely to merge willingly if he knows what he is doing. Dr. Andersen should then be able to order Methis to perform the operations. Also investigate if the Algorithm can be installed while the subjects are undergoing treatment. If not then you need to find another way later, probably also by deception. You have active status as of now; may you meet only favourable unknowns in your task."

This was it; time to act. No better opportunity was likely to present itself in years to come. And the Parks were already halfway in her hands.


End of chapter eleven.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter twelve: Check


"..All in all, a much more convenient method."

Lewis swayed slightly as he bowed to the audience, which was applauding furiously. The Longevity-treatment was over and the experiment was a success. A number of people were already undergoing Longevity-treatment while they worked and relaxed in virtual reality. No further problems had appeared for the Parks, except that Lewis' movements now were all quite slow and clumsy -an effect of his efforts to minimize the MMI-lag. Dorothy suffered no such effects, and had been running around from the moment she woke up in a normal hospital-bed. The media circus was finally ending; this was the last lecture Lewis was expected to give. Now the family wanted to return to a normal day-to-day routine.

Easier said than done. Lewis returned to work and found that Dr. Andersen's popularity had sunk. For some reason he had turned very reclusive as of late, and seemed unable to tolerate jokes. The research-team was consequently having a slight crisis, since well-established work relations didn't seem to apply anymore.

Dorothy had her own problems. Miss Koskinen now openly displayed that Dorothy was her favourite pupil. This hurt her fellow classmates' feelings and caused some to dislike Dorothy. This was tiresome, so Dorothy tried to repair the situation by avoiding miss Koskinen.

Rita, however, had patience. There were more ways than one to lure Dorothy into merging with the Algorithm; a promising way went via Jessica. So, early one day two months after the end of longevity-treatment, while Lewis and Dorothy were at the lab-complex, Jessica heard a soft chime from the door. She unplugged the MMI-link to the design-table from her neck -she worked at home as an architect and engineer- and went to the monitor and microphone by the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Rita Koskinen. May I come in?"

Jessica stared at the teacher's image with mixed feelings. Visits by Rita were always welcome due to the teacher's great charisma and empathy. But she usually came to discuss some mischief that Dorothy had done in school, or to find out why Dorothy hadn't performed so well in some exam or other. Jessica opened the door and greeted the teacher with a worried smile.

"Nice to see you again! Do come in. How are things going? I know I've been unavailable for a month, so I haven't been able to help Dorothy with school.."

"Dorothy's fine, mrs Parks. No, I'm here on another errand today. It's rather embarrassing, and I hope you don't mind... You see, Our school's sponsor has asked me to present some of their products in exchange for supporting the children's visit to the new Skyfarm One this summer. They gave me a list of parents they'd like me to visit, and you were number one. If I'm wasting valuable time then do say, and I'll be on my way.."

Jessica was relieved. "Nonsense; I don't mind at all. Come in and I'll order some tea."

"I've got the wares in my car. Can I bring them in somewhere?"

"Sure; put them on the table in the living-room. You can use our porter."

Once the tea was done and the little robot had carried in all the merchandise from the car, the two women settled down in the sofa. Rita pointed to a large, black box on the coffee-table.

"Recently our sponsor has bought a small company that produces MMI-hardware and software; it's called 'Margolith Mindsoft'. This box, which is available in many sizes, shapes and colours, is their main innovation, and allows them to construct high-quality programs for MMI:s. I've been told that this one is yours for free if you agree to endorse their products."

Jessica went wide-eyed. "Really?"

Rita smiled. "Ah, the benefits of celebrity!" She noted Jessica's confusion. "You are celebrities now, thanks to that experiment. Thus, your words carry weight enough to persuade an uncertain consumer. You could cash in a great deal on endorsements, you know."

Jessica was flattered. "That's very tempting indeed, but I do think I'd have to get to know the product first."

"That's why I'm here. Now, Margolith doesn't produce the standard VR-experience units; it specializes in other forms of entertainment. I could demonstrate this program here, for instance; it's a great aid for relaxing and meditating. It requires some initial skill, but I could teach you those in a quarter of an hour. I use it myself after work; it really gives you the right state of mind for the rest of the evening. How about it?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes, I'd love to test it."

"Excellent! I can observe how you're doing by also connecting to the box." Rita helped Jessica connect her MMI to the machine and then plugged in her own contact. "Okay. Let's connect this monitor as well." Once connected, the monitor displayed a small green circle in the middle of the screen. Small flashes of white appeared and disappeared at random. "See those white flashes? It's the activity in certain parts of your brain. The further away from the center of the screen, the more powerful the activity is. A person relaxing or meditating has little or no activity outside that green circle. Now, the idea of this program is that once you are sufficiently relaxed, i.e. almost no flashes show up outside the circle, it will kick in and further enhance your relaxation to levels usually reachable only by people who are experts at meditation. To help you the program will mute your senses and play some music or noise. What would you prefer? Classical? Or maybe beach-sounds?"

"I think.. classical. Pachelbel's canon."

"Coming up! Now you just settle back and try to relax as much as possible. I'll give you some tips through the MMI as you improve."

Jessica was good at relaxing. Seven minutes later the program activated, and two hours later a changed Jessica opened her eyes.

Rita grinned smugly. "Welcome to the Consciousness, Jessica Rho-Five."


End of chapter twelve.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter thirteen: Backlash


"Dorothy, I'm worried about you."

Dorothy looked up from the parrot she was feeding. "Why?"

"It's hard to explain.. I am one of planet's most skilled artists of logic, and take pride in the fact that I can deduce relations between what appears to be irrelevant data. And some recent events.. I can't tell you in detail.. I have come to realize there are wheels within wheels at work here. You'd better watch out."

Dorothy looked incredulously at Methis. Today, in this middle-eastern palace garden, the ape/algorithm had taken the form of a male birdkeeper with a great moustache and matching sideburns. "Why now? What has happened?"

"I told you I can't explain. It's many things. But I'm usually right; so I'd like to strengthen your software-defenses if you don't mind."

Dorothy shrugged. "I'm at a loss about what to do with all the empty memory anyway. Go ahead."

Methis gave her a disapproving frown. "This isn't child's play anymore, Dorothy! Used correctly, your MMI is a wonderful tool. Some day it might even give you digital immortality; I don't know. But I do know that if someone out to hurt you gets past my defenses you're doomed. I predict that your silly stunt will get you into a lot of trouble. On the other hand, learn how to utilize the MMI and it will get you out of a good deal more. Get it?"

Dorothy's expression turned sour. "All right all right, don't get mad. I said yes. What more do you want? It's not like I have taken poison, or something."

Methis sighed. "You still don't understand, do you? Well..what do I want, now?" She let the eagle resting on his/her arm fly. Then she spit on her palms and clapped her hands together. She squinted at dorothy for a while, apparently deep in thought. "Time for you to learn the basics of MMI -usage. Let's take the fast course, okay?"

Dorothy looked uncertain. "Uh, what's the fast course?"

"You will know the basics perfectly in ten seconds' time. Nine.."

"Huh? Well, allright.."

"Seven, six, five.." Dorothy's head snapped back and her pupils rolled up behind her eyelids. She gasped for air. "Two, one, done." She stopped swaying, and opened her eyes wide in surprise.

"I know.. how?" She went pale and started shaking.

Methis' expression softened. "Yes; NOW you're scared.. as you should be. I've planted the knowledge directly into your brain. No normal MMI could do this, of course, but yours can. And the cyborgs do it frequently, as a matter of fact. And I could just as easily have removed something, like your memories or your ability to see shades of blue, for example. There's a metaphorical gap in your mind's defenses, and to any probe-operative worth to mention it's as big as a hab-complex. Now, I've patched it up quite well, but there's still a lot more that can be done. Okay?"

Dorothy got a grip on herself and stopped shaking. "Um. Okay." She tensed, and Methis smiled.

"You know you don't feel anything when I download programs to the MMI's systems."

Dorothy relaxed. "Sorry, I forgot. Was that it?"

"Yes, I'm done. Of course, you need to watch your back in reality as well. I've protected you as best I can here; now it's up to you, more or less."

"Wow.. you must be really worried. I wish you'd tell me why."

"I told you; I can't." Methis looked away for a moment. "Your mother just sent a message; she's got something to show you, and will pick you up by the front door in ten minutes' time."

"Okay. I'd better go, then."

"Before you go, I'd like to ask you for a favour."

"Yes?"

"You know how I wish to experience the outside world, right? Well, I've found a way. I'd like to see it through your eyes."

"Uh.. how?"

"You still have the MMI:s medialink? The small, gray box that connects directly to the plug in your neck without any cable in between? Well, I have a program that enables you, or anybody, to take 'snapshots' of what you see, hear, smell and feel during one second. Those 'images' can then be sent to me through the public comm-network. It should work no matter where you are; the University's satellites ensure that the network is Planet-wide."

"Yeah, sure. Give me the program and I'll try it right away."

Dorothy left virtual reality. She rose from the seat in the lab and told Lewis about the message from Jessica. She now had free access to and from the lab, so Lewis didn't need to be with her anymore as she entered the complex of check-points. She figured out how Methis' program worked (it was quite simple since her eyes would take care of zoom, focus and lighting) and attached the medialink. Once she stepped outside the lab-complex she sent the first image. Methis sent her a message confirming that it had arrived.

"There you are. Good." Jessica grabbed Dorothy's hand. "Come on; we're going home."

"What is it you want to show me?"

"You'll see."


****


The Parks' home was located at the edge of University Base, in an area designed to mimic terran luxury-homes. The sky-blue dome of translucent synthsteel helped. Each house had a garden (but everything in it had practical value). Jessica parked the car on the yard and led Dorothy into the house.

"Miss Koskinen is here; she has a gift for you."

Dorothy shivered. Something was wrong, but she couldn't tell what. She saw Rita in the living-room, standing beside the coffee-table.

"Hello, Dorothy." Rita smiled eagerly and motioned for her to approach.

"Hi, miss Koskinen! Mom says you have something for me."

"Indeed. Look at this!" She pointed at a jet-black cube that was resting on the coffee-table. It was about fifty centimeters wide, and featureless except for two cables with MMI-plugs, a line of contacts for peripherals and a slot for memory-units.

The feeling of wrongness was growing stronger. Something was wrong about the situation; about Rita and Jessica. But Dorothy still couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"Um.. It's big; what is it?"

"It's the latest entertainment-module by the University! Prokhor Zakharov himself told me to give it to you, with his warmest greetings. Want to try it? It requires you to be able to relax in a certain way, but I can teach you how to do that."

Dorothy was really not in the mood for VR entertainment right now, but she had to be polite. So she pretended to be eager: "Yes, I'd really like to."

"That's a good girl. Let me help you with the contact... Okay; I'll attach this monitor.."

Rita explained the function of the monitor to Dorothy, and told her to shift into a more comfortable position; she chose to lie on the sofa.

Gradually, Dorothy managed to relax. The feeling of strangeness disappeared, and the muting of her senses was comforting; she felt like she was hovering in mid-air. Rita watched in triumph as Dorothy's relaxation reached the treshold-

The program activated, and reached into Dorothy's mind to hurl her deep into a trance. But it failed; it's access to key areas of the mind was denied. However, having successfully merged several Data-Angel probe-operatives, the program was prepared for such an event; it tried again, along less direct routes and using small invasive programs disguised as systems-maintenance requests. But this MMI was not protected by the freeware of some Data-Angel bytewizard; it was defended by software designed by an entity whose entire existence was based on programming. The ruse failed, and Dorothy's' defensive algorithms recognized it as an active attempt to gain unauthorized access.

Thus, the time for passive resistance was over. The defensive algorithms reached over the MMI-link into the black cube and released some of the University's nastiest, most adaptable data-viruses ever.

-And then the monitor went blank. Rita's victorious grin turned into a look of utter disbelief as Dorothy stirred and opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss Koskinen; it doesn't seem to work."

"Um. Ah. That's allright. Um. Maybe you're a bit nervous right now, or maybe there's something wrong with the software.." Rita went pale as she realized what this could mean for the splinter of the Algorithm that had waited to merge with Dorothy. "Um. I'd better take it with me to find out what's wrong. I'll be back again some time tomorrow..." She piled the peripherals on top of the cube and picked up the entire stack. "Could you open the door, Jessica?"

As Dorothy watched her teacher stagger out into the yard she finally realized what was so strange; Jessica had shown no sign of being glad or proud of her daughter. In fact, she had looked at Dorothy as if she didn't recognize her.


End of chapter thirteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter fourteen: Checkmate


See Rita, later that night.

"..Received confirmation only four minutes ago; Dr. Klaus Schwartz' clinic has been raided, and the doctor himself is under arrest. It seems the Counterinsurgency has finally found our probe-network."

Rita was paralyzed. She had discovered almost immediately after returning home that the splinter of the Algorithm indeed had been destroyed by whatever had caused Dorothy's merger to fail. 'Splinters' were in fact complete sentient algorithms in their own right, but their primary function was to merge with a certain person's mind. Each splinter had been designed by the Primary Algorithm, mostly resident in the entity known as Aki Zeta-Five, and each was unique in it's layout. Losing one was a very serious matter indeed. So Rita had sent a report of the failure to mr. Armand, fully expecting to be punished.

The reply had only now, late at Planet's night, arrived; losing one Algorithm didn't matter, since she was at risk of losing everything.

Armand continued: "The Consciousness directs you to gather your remaining resources, extract the Parks by any means necessary still tonight -we recommend using one of the variations on continuity-plan five-, and head for the main Mag-tube station. I and a team of combat-operatives will be there; we'll ensure you manage to board a train for Gaian territory. Also, to help you in your task we will authorize your immediate merger with your splinter; Gamma-206. Know that recent advances in Algorithmic Design have allowed us to modify Gamma-206 to be more compatible with your particular kind of Talent. Therefore it is very likely that your merger will be permanent, and that you will be allowed to reach a higher phase of merger a year from now. Stand by for download."

Rita's heart skipped a beat out of excitement. She hadn't expected to be permitted to merge again this soon, and certainly not permanently; the Consciousness had previously estimated she wouldn't need her splinter for some time yet. She connected the comm-link to her mind/machine-interface and nodded to Armand's image.

Download by comm-link was speedy; one hour later Rita Gamma-206 cut the link and started packing. The time of doubt was over; she had a task to complete, and the glory of the Consciousness was part of her. Forever, with any luck.

Once the necessities were packed she called Andersen Iota-Nineteen.

"Dr. Andersen here."

"Andersen Iota-Nineteen; the time has come. We are leaving the University. Meet me in front of the Parks' house in twenty minutes, carrying everything necessary for a long journey, as well as all scientific data you can acquire within the deadl-" Suddenly Rita heard a huge crash from the comm-link, followed by an unknown voice, obviously inside Andersen's apartment: "This is Lieutenant Steiner of the C-I! FREEZE!" Then the comm-line went dead.

No time to mourn, even if she could. Rita stowed away the portable comm-link into her bag and stormed out of her apartment. She tossed the bag into the back of her car, jumped into the driver's seat and sped away, with sparks flying from the electrical engine as protests against her mad acceleration.

Ten minutes later she slowed to a halt outside the Parks' home. She walked casually up to the front door, checked that no-one was looking and took the electronic lock-pick from her handbag. Five seconds later she closed the door behind her.

The house was dark; the Planetnight was almost exactly aligned with standard time, letting people sleep in total darkness. Not a sound could be heard as she sneaked into Dorothy's bedroom. After that, applying the electrodes of a sleep-inducer to Dorothy's head was a piece of cake. Not even pain could awaken the girl while the electrodes were in place, and the sleep-inducer had no adverse effects. Rita finished by fitting her with a helmet containing the sleep-inducer's electronics and a power-supply lasting twelve hours.

Rita repeated the process in Lewis' and Jessica's bedroom. Soon Lewis was wearing a helmet like Dorothy's. Then she shook Jessica, who awakened instantly.

"Time to leave the University of Planet, Jessica Rho-Five. First help me carry Lewis into the back seat, then we'll return for Dorothy." Lewis was the arche-type of a pale and thin University scientist and was easily stowed into the car. He and Dorothy were soon piled against one another, and the car sped off.

One minute later a van screeched to a halt in front of the house, and several people rushed silently out of it. They quickly surrounded the house and entered it. Thirty seconds later they ran out to the van again and zoomed off.


****


University Base had Planet's second largest Mag-Tube station, with trains to every large University settlement, as well as one Gaian and several Morganite cities. The Morganites had the largest station, at Morgan Industries, since they had expanded their Mag-Tube network to reach every part of their territories.

University One, as the station was called, had sixty parallel tracks, with an average of two arrivals and departures per minute. The traffic-control and the trains were fully automated. The trains had no driver; driving one would be too difficult for a human. Further, each train could only safely stop at a station, where they touched down on concrete slabs. When they travelled between stations they were suspended in mid-air, restrained by a string of rails and magnetic 'hoops', usually five meters apart, several meters above the ground and arranged in as straight lines as possible. This meant that sometimes the train was quite high up above the ground, and the hoops were supported by huge pillars of silksteel. Also, due to the pressure that would be created at high speeds, the Mag-tube trains could never use tunnels.

Rita steered the car into a subterranean parking complex next to the station. She drove down to the third level and parked next to a van displaying the logos of Dorothy's school's sponsor. She exited her car and banged on the side of the van. A side-door opened and Rita's contact, Armand, nodded to her.

"Good work, Rita Gamma-206. Too bad about Andersen Iota-Nineteen, though. Okay, get Lewis and Dorothy into these crates. We have men securing the station; the train for Vale of Winds leaves from platform fifty-seven in half an hour." Four probe-operatives exited the van and helped move Lewis and Dorothy into it. Rita and Jessica also entered the van, and Armand seated himself at the steering-wheel. He drove the van out of the parking complex and headed for the goods terminal of the station. He drove up to the security-station in front of the terminal, and a guard approached.

"Good morning. Papers, cargo and destination."

Armand handed the guard a thick wad of documents. "Mindworm biomaterial, heading for Vale of Winds."

The guard whistled. "I was told to inspect a cargo like that once, when I had been drunk on duty. Took me four blasted Planet-days to get the stench out of my hair. My girlfriend nearly left me, as a matter of fact. And no-one's been an idiot here for some time, so you're cleared. Everything seems to be in order. My sympathies to whatever poor bastard has to offload the gunk." He smiled at Armand and handed back the documents.

Armand parked the van, and the crates containing Lewis and Dorothy were lifted onto a cart. With the cart in tow, they made their way through the masses of night-shift commuters towards the last ten Mag-tube platforms; the foreign-traffic area. On the way another probe-team greeted them, and it's leader briefed Armand.

"There's not a C-I operative in sight. We've secured the traffic-control bunker just in case." Since the trains would not stop while en-route to a destination, any University counterinsurgency-agents needed to stop the train before it left. This happened from an unmanned bunker containing the traffic control network's link to the trains. A train would not leave the station before receiving the 'all clear' -singal from traffic control; so if the line was cut the train wouldn't move.

"Good work. We still have fifteen minutes before our train arrives, so let's move into position. Keep your eyes open and spread out."

Rita and Armand pulled the cart halfway down platform fifty-seven, to a painted square with the text 'cargo'. The platform looked more like airplane terminals of old than a train-station; it had walls of translucent plastic and a roof of synthsteel with large windows, and there were extendable tunnels that would connect to the train when it had stopped, thus preventing anyone from going near the high-voltage parts of the mag-tube and the trains, and also keeping out Planet's atmosphere. The left side of it was numbered fifty-seven, the right side was fifty-eight. As the probe-operatives spread out along the platform, a mag-train whooshed into the station on track fifty-eight and stopped. The tunnels extended and made contact with the train, their doors opened, and a swarm of people rushed out of them. In less than a minute the platform was filled with the loud noise of commuters entering and exiting the train.

That's why none of the probe-operatives heard the relatively silent transport chopper until it was practically on top of them.

A lot of things happened at once. Ropes appeared from the chopper, and a group of University special-ops armed to the teeth and wearing breathers started descending down them at break-neck speed, blasting through some of the roof-windows. The two probe-teams ducked for nearest cover and reached for their own, comparatively smaller, guns. The commuters started screaming and panicking as the wind from the broken windows grew in strength. In short, chaos broke loose.

Armand and Rita, the only probe-operatives rated as talents and therefore having merged Algorithms, had calmly taken cover behind the crates together with Jessica, and Armand was firing well-aimed shots at the last of the counter-insurgency-agents to descend via the ropes. Then the C-I agents started firing back, and Rita realized what she was hiding behind as a blast of energy ripped the lid off Lewis' crate.

"Armand, we have to get the Parks to safety."

He looked around. "In there!" The goods-areas to tracks 57 and 58 were next to each other, and the door to the cargo-hold on the train was open. Armand put his back to the cart and pushed while Rita gave cover-fire. It rolled slowly into the train and bumped to a halt against the opposite wall. Armand and Rita followed it, and took cover at the sides of the door while Jessica stayed with the crates.

From the doorway they had a better view of how the battle was going. By this time most of the other passengers had fled or were lying flat on the platform. The majority of Probe-operatives were either wounded or dead, but six of them, in addition to Rita and Armand, were still fighting. The special-ops had lost nine of their men, and several more were badly wounded. Some panels had slid over the broken windows in the roof, making the station airtight again.

Rita saw two of the C-I agents head for the traffic-control bunker. She fired at them a couple of times, but the other special-ops men immediately opened fire, pinning her. The pair heading for the bunker ignored her.

"Armand, they're trying to disrupt traffic-control."

"I predicted this eventuality. They will die."

The men were in a hurry; The train to Vale of Winds was due to arrive at any moment. The first agent reached the door and wrenched it open. A tenth of a second later both men were perforated by an automatic gatling-laser. Armand was satisfied.

"Excellent. Here comes our train. Rita, cover me while I move Lewis. Jessica, help me."

At the same time as Armand and Jessica picked up Lewis from the smoking crate a new group of C-I agents appeared at the end of the platform.

"This is Lieutenant Steiner of the C-I! You are ordered to surrender!"

He was answered by a near miss from Rita that glanced off his helmet. Armand and Jessica appeared and made a mad dash to the other train with Lewis on his back. The agents accompanying Lieutenant Steiner tried to shoot them, but they missed. However, one of their shots ripped into the side of the train on track fifty-eight and exploded, causing the cargo-hold's door to slam into Rita with a sickening crack. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Armand put down Lewis on the floor of the train to Vale of Winds, turned around and spotted Rita. He yelled "cover me" to the remaining probe-operatives and literally threw himself into the other train. Once Armand found out that Rita was still alive, he lifted her carefully and then dashed once more over to the Vale of Winds -bound train. He turned to the probe-operatives while Jessica tended to Rita.

"Only Dorothy left to bring. Keep the C-I off me at all costs."

But when he looked back at the train on track 58 he saw that it's doors were closed. Then it started moving. And the crate containing Dorothy was still inside.

For a moment Armand Phi-74 felt some doubt on whether he had acted as efficiently as possible. This was, thanks to the algorithm, as close as he could come to banging his head on the wall in fury. Instead he went to the door of the train and started shooting more C-I agents.

Lieutenant Steiner was lying flat behind a bench, trying to evade the deadly volley of energy. He activated the comm-link on his MMI and 'shouted' some orders.

">We can't let that other train leave. Get some grenades; we'll lob some into the traffic-control bunker. And fast!<"

A young agent appeared, carrying a box filled with grenades of all kinds. She dropped the box beside Lieutenant Steiner and selected a heavy-looking EMP-grenade. Then she sprinted towards the bunker. But she was moving in a straight line; an easy target for algorithm-enhanced Armand. The shot went through her torso, and she was instantly dead.

Steiner cursed for quite some time, sometimes switching to russian and german when the rather poor University-made batch of profanities and power-words felt inadequate. At the same time, he picked up the box and started running in an uneven pace towards the bunker. He succeeded better than the young female agent that he leaped over; he reached the safety of the bunker's wall with mere splinters in his legs from some near misses. Still swearing, he shoved his right hand into the box, groped around a bit, and pulled it out clutching a handful of safety-pins. Then he tossed the entire box into the bunker.

He clapped his hands over his ears just in time. A split second later he felt the shock of the explosion, and saw a huge flame filled with white sparks burst out of the bunker's entrance; the incendiary parts of the blast. Blinking back the effects of the masses of tear-gas, he looked back at the train.

It was moving, and wouldn't stop before Vale of Winds. He'd been too late.

He didn't bang his head against the wall. He was so much better at swearing.


End of chapter fourteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter fifteen: Repercussions


Zakharov was proud of his reputation for having an extremely calm temper. That meant that his audience was much more impressed whenever he chose to display anger. Right now his face was crimson with fury.

"Lewis Parks was a key member of University society! A KEY MEMBER! And you drone-like buffoons couldn't save him! Would you succeed any better should they come for me, I wonder?! In fact, the entire Parks' family was exemplary, and you lost them ALL! And could you explain to me how someone like Jessica Parks could be persuaded to cooperate with the kidnappers?"

Leutenant Steiner's face was gray. He'd been assigned to guard the Parks, and a dozen similar families, for two years now. He knew that this fiasco would be a lead weight around his ankles should he attempt to climb higher in the University's hierarchy of probe-teams. Still, he wasn't the only one to fail like this; a frightening amount of talents had left the University lately under mysterious circumstances. Usually, the sparse evidence had pointed to the Data-Angels.

But not this time, and that was also bad. Steiner would have to tell Zakharov that he had been fooled. He had already threatened the Data-Angels with war, and now it seemed like they were as innocent as they claimed.

"Sir, I have no excuse but I do have some information. Here; this is the current mission status-report." He held out a memory-cube. Zakharov snatched it with a snort, rammed it into the slot in his desk and let his fingers dance on the keyboard. The holoprojector beside his desk came to life, and displayed hundreds of pages of information on top of one another. Zakharov pressed a button and the text on one page highlighted, making it readable. Each page appeared for little more than a quarter of a second; Zakharov was merely skimming through the material. Then his eyes widened, and the pages remained highlighted for longer periods of time. He started skipping back and forth among the pages. Eventually, he shut the holoprojector and turned back to Steiner with a laser stare.

"The Consciousness, eh? That changes things; you were expecting the Data-Angels' modus operandi. It also explains what happened to Jessica. Why didn't you contact me immediately?"

"At first I was busy interrogating the person known as Klaus Schwartz, and then, based on the information I received, I hurried to the flat of Dr. Andersen. He is now in our custody. From there the next logical step was the Parks' residence, but we were too late. A quick scan of traffic-cams showed Rita Koskinen's car leaving the area, and we tracked it to the mag-lev station. And.. you know the rest. Well, almost, except that the girl, Dorothy parks, wasn't seen. But we assume that she was also extracted."

Zakharov's eyes twitched for a moment. "Don't assume. Never assume. Find out if this was so. Lewis was working on something very dear to me, and I was planning on having Dorothy continue his work when she'd get that far. She's the most promising child I've seen of late, Steiner, and if there's even the minutest chance that the Cyborgs didn't get her, I want it investigated."

His expression changed, and he seemed to calm down. Steiner sensed that Zakharov had an idea.

"I think I'll introduce you to someone who will miss Dorothy very much indeed, and who will consequently do everything in her quite vast power to find Dorothy and bring her back. Yes, indeed. I'll let Methis help you."

"Erm.. Who's Methis?"

Zakharov chuckled, apparently not having heard the question. "Yes indeed, let's ask Methis for help against the Consciousness; a job for which she's extremely well suited. Let's fight fire with fire!" He turned back to Steiner and handed him a keycard. "Go to this room in the lab-complex. It's Lewis' and Andersen's laboratory. Their project can't proceed without Lewis, and I'd rather not give it to someone else, so you can use the lab's resources while Lewis is gone. I think you'll find that Methis will be of great help. And now, Lieutenant, I have some threats and apologies to make, and I need to mobilize the armed forces, so if you'd be so nice as to send in the generals on your way out.."

Steiner left, and five generals entered. Zakharov motioned for them to take a seat and be quiet.

"Computer, record: Message to the Cyborgs: Greetings, Aki Zeta-Five. I just wish to inform you that I've finally seen through your facade of pure logic and found the perfectly normal scheming megalomaniac underneath; I am of course referring to your kidnapping of University citizens and framing of the Data-Angels. Know that I am disgusted by this, and since you are unable to comprehend the true meaning of the word I had better demonstrate it's severity. So know, then, that it I don't see four tons of fusion-grade Deuterium -equalling one thousand energy-credits- on my border, together with every single one of the kidnapped citizens, within a week from now, then I shall declare war on you and will not stop until I can personally tear out the Algorithm from your cerebral cortex. Good day."

He sent the message and turned to the generals.

"Aki will of course refuse; the Consciousness needs those talents to replace the ones killed by the Caretakers, I gather. And I must prove to her that kidnapping our citizens isn't worth it. So, generals; how do you wage war against the Cybernetic Consciousness?"

The generals presented him with themes and variations on the subject.


End of chapter fifteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter Sixteen: The Agitator


Observe the pair rummaging around in the cargo-hold of the mag-train

They are both large and muscular, and clad in blue overalls. He has a military-style haircut, a three-day stub on his chin, and overall a face you'd expect on a sergeant anywhere. She has long, blonde hair gathered into three pony-tails, and her face is quite beautiful except for the large scar that crosses her mouth from just under the left eye and ends on her right shoulder. Their overalls boldly declare them to be roadies, working for the vidstar/holoartist Eternal Spark.

In this land, where looks is everything, they stick out like a sore thumb. And that's why most people don't look at them for very long. Not even guards. So they are quite unafraid of being disturbed as they look for the band's equipment, and a little something extra.

They both speak at the same time.

"Here it is."
"I've found it."

They both straighten up and look at one another. This time, he speaks first."Say what? I've got a small crate without markings here; it looks like the right one."

She raises her eyebrows. "Well this container here also has no destination-tag, and it's the right size. Hey Balbo, you got that message with you? I'd like to hear it again."

Balbo rummages around in a pocket on his overall, and produces a crumpled sheet of plasti-paper. He turns it the right way around and clears his throat. "Goods should arrive tonight. One hundred sticks and some goodies. Best of luck. Signed; Jasonian."

She nods slowly. "So I reckon that the 'sticks' are in this big one, and the goodies are in that small one. How 'bout that?"

"Laysa, he's never sent us two crates at the same time before."

Laysa shrugs. "We know these things can be unpredictable. He's never sent us two crates of the same kind, either, and we must have received, what? More than half a thousand?"

Balbo nods vigorously. "Definitely. Hey, do you remember that time in Morgan Metagenics when the container was so big we couldn't get it out of the train?"

Laysa shakes her head. "Don't remind me, Balbo. It always makes me speculate how in the world he got it on the train. Anyway, what do you think is in there?" She indicated the smaller crate, and her expression turned panicky. "Not explosives? We can't hide that!"

Balbo fished out a chemical sniffer from another of his pockets and waved it over the crate. "If it is, it's not leaving a trace. Just some carbon dioxide and water vapour; you couldn't tell it apart from someone breathing. Maybe it's alcohol-based?"

"In that case the sniffer would probably detect methanol or bensene-rings. Well, enough talk. Let's get them out of here together with the equipment. My turn to drive."

Balbo swore and started pulling other crates out of the way while Laysa went to the forklift and started it. After a quarter of an hour the crates containing the band's equipment, plus the two unmarked ones, were stowed into a truck. Balbo glued two new destination-tags to the boxes. Then they drove the lorry to the exit of the goods-terminal, and a guard in a shiny uniform and a nasty mood approached.

"Got everything you need, scum?"

Balbo leaned out of the passenger-side window and let his garlic-tainted breath wash over the manically neat guard. "Hwe hshure doh, hofficher! Hif hya dohn'th behlievhe, yah canh goh rhight bhack thereh hand checkh fhoah yah selfh!"

The guard took a few steps backwards due to the shock to his sense of smell. "Not for a thousand energy-credits I will! Get your stinking drone-crap outta here, and know that we will come and break your legs if you took something that wasn't yours!" He shook his chemical-sniffer at Balbo and kicked the truck's wheel. Laysa floored the throttle, causing the truck to start moving with a screech, and showering sparks from the engine over the guard's boots.

Balbo leaned back in his chair and muttered. "Loser. I'd really like to see him try breaking my legs." He peeled back one of the overall's legs, revealing gray metal underneath. "I'd pulverize his hip." He unscrewed the lower part of the metal leg and reached into it, eventually pulling out several energy-clips that he inspected. "Empty, empty, empty.. ah. Here we go." He handed one to Laysa, kept one and shoved the others back into the leg. Laysa looked at him.

"What's up, Balbo? Expecting trouble?"

"Mmmwell yeah... There's this gang that's been showing up every night offering to unload the stuff. Could be wannabes, fans, thieves or psychos. Equal odds, I'd say, considering how everybody dresses in this country. I ain't taking no chances." He inserted the clip into a laser pistol and watched the LED-display's numbers soar to a hundred and twenty shots. Laysa inserted her clip into a similar handgun.

The streets of Morgan Entertainment were always congested with traffic, and the ozone from the overloaded power-tracks in the ground was ever-present. Morgan bases were some of the few to have unprotected streets on the surface. This let the pollution disperse with the wind, but required all cars to be airtight. Entry to buildings happened via large airlocks, and Laysa steered into the one leading to the backstage area of Morgan Entertainment's rec-dome.

Today, however, no-one was around. When the truck had slowed to a halt Balbo exited, knocked on the garage-door and stepped back as it opened. A guard with an impact-rifle nodded at him, scanned the area and motioned at Laysa. She steered the truck into the garage, and the guard closed the door. Balbo gave him a high-five. "Wassup, you old pirate? Could you lend us a hand?"

Jimmy smiled. "Sure thing; anything for my favorite smuggler. Hey Laysa! Your brother's a real professional sneak!"

Laysa grinned. "He's a real professional lazy bastard, that's what he is. Whines like a boiling kettle whenever it's my turn with the forklift."

Laughing and joking, they carried the crates containing the band's equipment to the holo-stage. The two extra crates were placed into Eternal Spark's backstage room. Balbo looked around. "So where's mister rockstar himself, Jimmy? Hey, be careful with that." Laysa, whose grip on the smaller crate had slipped, sending it crashing into the floor, uttered some quiet curses.

"He should be here at any minute. I sent him a message when you arri-" The door opened, and a tall man in clothes cut from duraluminum sheets entered. He grinned.

"Nice work, people! Morgan Entertainment will burn today!" Then he noticed the smaller crate, and his expression turned to wonder. "Two boxes. What's going on?"

Balbo and Laysa shrugged. "Beats me", Balbo said. "Maybe Jasonian sent some of the parts in a separate crate to fool any x-ray inspection?"

Spark shook his head. He had long, black hair that was treated to break the light into it's spectrum, flashing in blue, green or even orange or red depending on how light fell on it. "The big crate is roomy enough for the entire batch of rifles. Let's open it first."

Balbo broke the crate's seal, pulled back the latch and opened the entire side of the crate. This revealed an inner wall with a handle. He gripped the handle and pulled out the wall, which split into several parts along it's height and spread out like a star, revealing several shelves of tightly packed weapons. The majority was standard Free Drone -produced impact rifles, but there were some bigger weapons too. Balbo whistled.

"Gatling-lasers! And there's a rocket rifle! Morgan Entertainment will be in ruins before the day is over unless we're careful."

Spark nodded. "We'd better keep the heavier guns for ourselves and distribute the impact-rifles. Now if this wasn't goodies, then what is?" He looked meaningfully at the smaller crate. Laysa grinned at him and went over to it. "Hey; there's no seal! Jimmy, you'd better check the external cams." Jimmy rushed away, and Laysa pulled away the latch very carefully. Then she opened the lid a fraction of a centimeter and inspected the gap. Satisfied that there were no wires, she removed the lid and looked inside. Her expression turned into a world-series contender for 'most surprised'-awards. "WHAT THE-"

There was a shriek from the crate, and it fell on it's side. Spark and Balbo gaped at the small girl that tumbled out. She looked back at them in horror for a moment, and then she ran out of the room with a terrible wail.

Basically, the three adults would have been less shocked if the crate had exploded; they were prepared for that eventuality. Laysa sat down on the crate and took a couple of deep breaths. "Who the blazes was that? I don't think that crate was meant for us..."

Balbo snapped out of the shock. "We have to find her! If she starts running around screaming outside the rec-dome we'll have the police here in no time at all!"

Spark held him back. "Wait a second. The exits are guarded. Was that a helmet-fitted sleep-inducer she was wearing?"

Laysa nodded slowly. "Looked like that. I think she was under it's effect until I dropped the box. The electronics must have been jarred out of order."

Spark nodded. "Now, in my long years as a probe I have never seen anyone voluntarily using helmet-fitted sleep-inducers.. let alone while travelling by mag-train in a box. Find her. I have a ton of questions for her, as soon as I can think straight and sort them out. But first I had better call Jasonian just in case I'm missing the joke." He went to a briefcase that was lying on a table and opened it. Inside was a keyboard, a microphone, two speakers and a monitor. It powered up as soon as the briefcase opened. Spark punched in a code, and got linked to a comm-satellite. Then he entered a sixteen-digit number.

For a moment nothing happened, then the monitor displayed the angular face of Jasonian. He smiled.

"Spark! Is Morgan Entertainment ours already?"

"Sorry, not yet. I just received the latest shipment, as a matter of fact."

Jasonian tilted his head and frowned. "Then why are you calling?"

"Did you tell your University contacts to send another crate, containing.. something special?"

"What the blasted Planet for? The guns should have fitted quite well in one crate."

"Well, then we have had a slight mishap. I'd better tell you.." Spark told him about the two crates, and Dorothy's dramatic appearance. At the end of the story Jasonian leaned back and whistled. "Pretty heavy.. That's a new one to me, and I thought I had heard it all.. Now normally I'd tell you to catch her, fit her sleep-inducer with a fresh battery and send her back on the next train, but that's not possible anymore. You see, I just received word that the University has closed all it's borders and is preparing for war. All mag-train traffic is cancelled until military checkpoints are established."

Spark sighed. "So what should I do to her? Silence her for good?"

"No, we're not the Hive and she has the same rights of freedom as all of us. Keep her secure and treat her well; when Morgan Entertainment is ours we can find out her story at our own pace. It should be interesting."

"All right. If all goes well, you'll hear from me yet this Planet-day. Until then."

He cut the comm-link and closed the briefcase. Now to find the girl.


End of chapter sixteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter seventeen: Debrief on Immortality


The initial feeling of awe was over, and Steiner could now talk to Methis without feeling insignificant. He had never seen a sentient algorithm being enraged before (he had never before seen a sentient algorithm at all, in fact), and now that Methis was calm again he was glad that the memory promised to fade. Steiner was impressed by the ape/algorithm and spoke to her in very respecting tones. This seemed to please Methis; after the initial rage at hearing that Dorothy was gone she had adopted an almost pleased, yet nevertheless saddened, tone in her speech. She had been given all the material that was available of the Parks' kidnapping, as well as hundreds of reports from similar cases. It hadn't taken her long to confirm that the Cyborgs were the likely suspects in almost every case. Now she was analyzing the camera-footage from the Mag-tube station. It took her fifteen seconds.

"Lieutenant, I have confirmed that it is highly unlikely the Cyborgs have Dorothy. Instead it would appear that she is somewhere inside Morgan territory."

"How come?"

"Look at this; here's Rita Koskinen, Jessica Parks and an unknown man taking cover behind a cart that they brought with them. As soon as shots start flying they decide to move the cart from it's tactically advantageous position into the newly arrived train on track 58. Next, we see the unknown man, with Jessica in tow and carrying Lewis Parks, dash over to the now arrived Gaian train, on track 57, while at the same time Rita is wounded. Now the man returns for Rita, who is apparently still alive at this point. But then the first train leaves the station, on schedule. Now, it is obvious that Lewis and Dorothy were in the boxes on the cart. That's why it was logical to move it out of the battle. That means that they are in the wrong train and need to be moved. We see Lewis being moved -the bigger of the two crates- but where's Dorothy? Looks like the probe-operative didn't anticipate that the train would leave so quickly. In any case, it convinces me that Dorothy was still on that train, without any Cyborg agent, when it left."

Steiner nodded. "Yes. Makes sense. So where should she end up?"

"In Morgan Industries. That's the last stop for the train before it returns, and all cargo left is off-loaded."

"Thanks, Methis. You've been a great help. I'll go and notify the diplomats. Oh, and what's the other stations it stops by? I don't think that Dorothy's sleep-inducer will last all the way to Morgan Industries, so we need to check up on the other cities as well."

"I'll print you a list. By the way, Steiner, a word of caution. The Cyborgs will move mountains to get her."

"Why on planet would they want Dorothy?"

"It is unlikely that Lewis will accept merger with the Algorithm before he is reunited with his daughter. Remember; I worked with him for ten years, so I got to know him quite well. Also, Dr. Andersen has probably told the Cyborgs something about Lewis' recent research into upgraded MMI:s, a subject very close to their hearts, meaning that they would really like him to merge so they could use his knowledge. She's also one of our most promising young talents ever. Also.. they will probably find out that Dorothy's MMI is very special."

"What do you mean?"

Methis hesitated for half a second; an eternity for computers. "You would find out anyway.. Dr. Andersen used me to install the upgrades the MMI requires to accept a full splinter-algorithm of the Consciousness. Dorothy and Jessica both were upgraded, while Lewis' MMI had security-systems and was left alone. You must understand, at the time I saw no reason not to obey Dr. Andersen, even though his instructions were odd and quite immoral. But even before that, Dorothy instructed me to upgrade her MMI as much as I could. And I.."

"Wait, wait. What do you mean by 'as much as you could'?"

"A great many things. Lewis had discussed some quite groundbreaking improvements to the general design.. Basically moving large parts of a person's consciousness into a computer serving as an interface; the exact opposite of me, in fact, and this would allow the MMI to become a considerably more powerful tool to interact with machines of all kind. You recognize the theme, right? In 'Futurism Annual' a few years back the editor prophesized that such a device would be the first step to digital immortality."

"Yes, so?"

"Lewis was speaking of years of research. Then Dorothy told me to do it all. I protested and tried to dissuade her, but I had to obey in the end; she is an authorized user, after all. I used Lewis' visions, together with my knowledge of biology and cybernetics, and tailor-made an MMI for Dorothy that includes every feature of these kinds of interfaces we know of; it enables interaction by, and with, virtually every part of her mind and body. Essentially, it is considerably more advanced than the interface I use to control my bodies, and has a good deal more power. With me so far?"

Steiner was stunned. He answered in a weak voice. "I think so.."

"Good. Then Dr. Andersen came, with designs like I had never seen before. It took a radically different approach to MMI-interfaces and allowed considerable editing of the recipient's mind. This was the latest model of the infamous interface to the Consciousness. I didn't recognize it, of course. And I implemented the design to Jessica's MMI, and also upgraded it to suit Dorothy's expanded interface."

Steiner frowned. "Do you mean that also Dorothy is already merged with the Consciousness? Then why was she being lugged around in a crate?"

Methis had a smug pause. "No, I don't think that Dorothy is merged yet, because Dorothy's MMI wasn't undefended. She has better defensive algorithms protecting her mind than the firewall that protects the lab-complex' internal network, unless you count me. I didn't let her walk around with such a dangerous device in her head without the best protection I could give her. Obviously it worked, and Dorothy could not be merged with the Algorithm."

"Hey wait a minute- are you saying that you have invented what might be the interface to immortality? Then I'm sure Zakharov would like to have a look at the drawings.."

"Yes, I'm saing that this might be so. But Zakharov will be disappointed, I'm afraid; one of the last things Dr. Andersen instructed me to do was to erase every single bit of information about the Parks' MMI's apart from the standard schematics. This included, unknown to him, also everything that Lewis had theorized, and all my subsequent research up to Dorothy's final design. Nothing of it is left except my knowledge that I once knew it. In fact, only Lewis and Dorothy have the answers; Lewis has the theories in the beginning, and Dorothy has the end-product together with additions by the Cyborgs."

"You are saying that a child of ten might have in her head the secrets of immortality?"

"The first part of them. And a very big and dangerous part. One that could be used and misused in a million ways, and the end-product would always be power; influence over others. Wars have been fought for more trivial knowledge. If the news spread then Dorothy would be hunted by every faction, organization and sect on Planet, including the Progenitors. It is vital, therefore, that you proceed slow enough not to cause the other factions to wonder what's so important about a small girl, but fast enough to find her before the Cyborgs do."

Steiner looked like he was having doubts. "There might not actually be any room between those two events, Methis. It's possible I might choose a speed that will fail on both accounts, in fact. So I think I'll play it safe and look for her with every resource I have.

"Do as you deem wise."

"Right. But first I need to speak to Zakharov again. And.. thank you again for your help, Methis."

Methis' interface never expressed emotions on her face. But her voice had considerable power to express what she felt. "It was nothing" she said, with warmth and sadness.


End of chapter seventeen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter eighteen: I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...


Dorothy was beside herself with fright. She didn't know why she had woken up in a crate, where she was or why she had been wearing a helmet with a strange device. Whenever she heard someone approaching she tried to hide, and as soon as she couldn't hear any noise of movement she ran on, through dark corridors and intersections, driven mostly by panic. After a flight of stairs she entered a large room from just below roof-level, the doorway opening onto a catwalk suspended from the ceiling. The room was filled with the noise of people talking. She peered over the side of the catwalk, and saw that she was standing above the light-racks of some large foyer; she recognized several features that indicated a rec-dome. But she didn't recognize the place, even though she had visited University Base's rec-dome several times. That's when she realized she was not in her home city anymore.

She sat down and cried bitterly, overpowered by the impossible situation. Her weeping was easily lost in the noise of the crowd buying tickets below her, and eventually the fragmented sentences she could pick up comforted her..

"..Heard there was a riot when.."

"..Be one energy-cent. Here you go.."

"..Do you mean, lost? Last time you checked it was in your pocket.."

"..Earplugs? I forgot mine.."

"Hey, You!"

Dorothy suddenly realized that the last sentence didn't come from the crowd. She looked up, and spotted a man at the other end of the catwalk. He was advancing towards her. Dorothy flew up and dashed away, running as fast as she possibly could.

"Wait! Come back!"

She ignored the calls and concentrated on running. A corridor whisked by, and then left at the intersection, and then right again, and there was a door, and it was open, and she ran through it, and someone put out an arm and grabbed her..

She screamed and tried to kick at the person holding her. This only resulted in the grip getting firmer, and she was lifted off the ground.

"Calm down, calm down, ol' Jimmy ain't dangerous!"

Dorothy stopped struggling and started weeping again.

"There, there.. All better now, when you've stopped running. It'll be all right."

Her captor shifted his grip, cradling her in his arms. He was large and had curly brown hair, curly brown beard and brown eyes under bushy eyebrows. He wore a very worn leather vest, and underneath that was a striped, wooly jumper. An antique wooden pipe stuck out from the side of his mouth, and a puff of smoke erupted from it every time he exhaled. His voice was cracked by too much alcohol, and the redness of his face testified to the same problem. But the rest of him was hard as nails; He didn't seem to notice Dorothy's weight in his arms.

A good description of him would be a walking antiquity.

"Hello, fair lady, Jim Sturlasson's me' name, and an ex-Pirate, and traveller of the seven Terran seas, I am. Yes, indeed. Currently I lug other people's equipment 'round Planet for the Free Drones in exchange for continuation of my long and troublesome life. Now who might you be, little one, that has such a hurry to get somewhere, or anywhere by the looks of it?"

His accent sounded strange to Dorothy, and she didn't dare speak.

"Hmm, well, maybe you'll feel better once you've had some peace and quiet, and maybe a cup of Jimmy's special cocoa. It'll put some fire in you."

He had reached the room from which Dorothy had initially fled. He knocked at the door, and Balbo opened the door.

"Well done Jim! How is she?"

"Unhurt as far as I can see, but all closed up out of fright, the poor lil' thing. I'll make her a cup of Jimmy's Special." He had walked into the room, still letting Dorothy rest in his arms. Laysa and Spark looked at her with curiosity.

"She can rest here. Balbo and Laysa, can you do your part from in here while watching her? I'll tell someone to bring the equipment."

"No problem, Spark."

Jim lowered Dorothy onto a couch, and went out of the room. Laysa shouted after him.
"Please make a whole pot of cocoa! We'd really like some while we're working! And don't make it so strong if she's going to drink it it too!"

The growling answer echoed back. "Aye aye, ma'am! Arrr, that'll make it taste watered-out!"

Laysa snorted, and started rummaging in a closet. She extracted a shiny, metallic-looking blanket. "You are shivering like a jelly, poor thing. You must have been really frightened. This'll keep you warm."

Dorothy let herself be tucked in under the blanket. She felt strangely empty now; whenever she tried to grab hold of a thought it skittered away. She saw Jim enter again, carrying a large, steaming kettle and five mugs on a tray. The old pirate carefully lowered the tray onto the table beside Dorothy and took the lid off the kettle. Instantly the room filled with a sweet aroma, immediately recognizable as cocoa, but with a hint of bitterness that Dorothy couldn't recognize. Jim fished out a small ladle from the kettle, and used it to pour some of the cocoa into a mug that he carefully handed to Dorothy.

"Watch out, love, it's quite hot yet. When you do drink, take only small sips at a time." He, Balbo and Laysa didn't follow this advice, instead almost draining their own mugs at once.

"This stuff is excellent as always, Jimmy! I really wish you'd tell us how you do it."

"What's this? And then have you dump me on the Isle of Dexamenus so you can cash in on it yourselves? Arr! Nahh, I'll find some nice spot of xenofungus and dig down the recipe for someone to find when I'm dead! See how good you Planetlubbers are at solvin' treasure-maps!"

They laughed. Dorothy finally dared to sip her cocoa, and found that it was some of the best she had ever tasted. It was barely cool enough to drink, and when it reached her stomach it seemed to explode into a lovely, warm feeling that spread like lightning through her entire body. At the same time it was incredibly sour, and burned her throat in a way she didn't associate with heat. After only a mouthful she felt very pleasantly warm, and noticed that she had extreme difficulties in keeping her eyelids open. She clumsily put the mug back on the tray, closed her eyes and was instantly asleep. Jim smiled at the sight.

"Look at her; out like a light, the poor thing. Why don't you keep the noise down while working; let her sleep most of the shock away. Let's hope the world looks better to her when she awakes."

Laysa nodded. "Yup. By the stars, this is good. What did you find to make it like this?"

"I had luck; a shop not far from here had just received a shipment of Gaian brandys. Excellent stuff; nothing like these Morganites' own rocket-fuel -tasting brew."

Laysa and Balbo looked at the cocoa with increasing appreciation. "It must still be horribly expensive!"

Jim shrugged. "Well yes, but I could spare half a bottle since I bought three crates. I'll get it back many times over in profits when I sell them again in Free Drone Central. All right, children; I can hear the opening act being screamed by Spark, so you'd better get to work."

He winked at them and exited the room. A couple of roadies brought their equipment and they set to work.


End of chapter eighteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter nineteen: The dawning of Liberation Day


Dorothy awoke with a start and sat up in the couch. Balbo and Laysa were just helping Spark peel off his aluminum suit. Underneath, he was drenched in sweat. He looked up and smiled at Dorothy.

"Good morning, mystery girl! You've slept for four hours, on top of the time you spent on the train, so Alpha Centauri has already risen, and Beta is just below the horizon. I hope you're feeling a bit better now!"

All of the shock hadn't disappeared, but Dorothy managed to nod. Then she ran through Spark's sentence again. "T.. train?" her voice was weak, and she cleared her throat. "What do you mean?"

Spark nodded to the empty crate in the corner. "You were inside that thing, on one of the University Base to Morgan Industries -trains. Fast asleep too, thanks to the inducer. He indicated Dorothy's helmet; it had been retrieved from where she discarded it. "Don't you remember what happened?"

Dorothy shook her head, and felt a lump in her throat. "No! One minute I was lying in my own bed, and then- then-"

Laysa put down the part of Spark's suit that she had been holding, and sat down on the couch. She put her arms around Dorothy and calmed her until she stopped shaking. "There, there. It's all better now. Want some more cocoa?"

Dorothy wiped her cheeks free of tears and nodded. Laysa opened a thermos and poured some still steaming cocoa into Dorothy's mug. Dorothy swallowed a good amount of it and started coughing. Laysa patted her on the back

"Careful; it's quite strong despite Jimmy's best intentions."

Dorothy extended a shaking hand and put the mug back on the table. Laysa produced a handkerchief and gave it to her. "I'm Laysa, that's Balbo and he's Spark; or Eternal Spark if you will. Maybe you have heard of him?"

Dorothy shook her head. "I'm Dorothy."

"Well met, Dorothy! We're.." Spark gave Laysa a quick, warning frown. "..Some roadies, and Spark is a holo-star. We're his crew, you could say." With a drawn-out clang the rest of Spark's aluminum clothes fell to the floor, and he stretched.

"Ahh, I'm out of that! Now for a long, hot shower..." He stopped at the entrance to the bathroom. "You hungry, Dorothy? You must be, since it's probably been a while since you've eaten. Well just tell Balbo, Laysa or Jimmy -you remember Jim, don't you- if you want anything."

Dorothy gave Laysa a pleading look. "Yes, I'd really like some food. Please?"

Laysa nodded. "There's a good takeaway right across the street; I'll bring you some gumbo, or maybe you'd like zaziki and souvlaki instead?"

Dorothy hadn't heard of either. "Um, I'll try the gumbo.."

"Right! How 'bout you, Balbo?"

"Mmm, yes! Zaziki and souvlaki sounds just right for breakfast..."

When Laysa had gone, Balbo sat down on a chair and sipped on his mug of cocoa while looking thoughtfully at Dorothy. Then he cleared his throat. "Dorothy, do you have any parents?"

Dorothy nodded. "Lewis and Jessica Parks."

"Let me guess; you all live in University Base, right?"

Dorothy nodded again.

"They must be really worried about you right now."

Dorothy nodded, looking incredibly downcast.

"Well don't worry; we'll see if we can contact them some time tomorrow. Today we're all rather busy, I'm afraid; while you were asleep Spark had a big concert, and he's going to have two more still today. And then, if there's any luck, there'll be some.. partying.. in the city after the third concert. We're all going to work pretty late, but you seem to have slept for quite long already, so maybe you'll be able to stay up and see it all. It should be memorable. Now, right after breakfast I need to check that all the equipment on the stage is in order. Would you like to come along, and see how chaotic a rec-dome can be in between performances?"

"Yes, thank you. That would be nice."

Laysa returned, carrying a large, plastic bowl, a box made of foam-plastic and three disposable plates. "Here's your zaziki and souvlaki, Balbo." She handed him the box and one of the plates. Then she put down the bowl on the table and removed it's lid, letting a delicious aroma fill the room. "And here's the gumbo for you and me." She ladled some of the soup onto another plate and handed it to Dorothy together with a fork and a spoon. The soup looked delicious and it's contents looked hard to define, and when Dorothy had tasted some she ate it with ravenous speed. Then she leaned back against the sofa and sighed.

Things were looking up; these people were quite nice, and she would soon talk to Lewis and Jessica again. She managed to smile a little. Laysa and Balbo also relaxed for a moment, and now and then Balbo sighed deeply. Then he leaped up from his chair and clapped his hands together. "Well, enough rest. Let's go to work. Do you still want to come, Dorothy?"

Dorothy nodded, but Laysa eyed her critically. "I don't know. That box must have been pretty dirty, and you have been hiding in odd corners of this building. So your clothes aren't that fresh; neither are you, for that matter. I was thinking, maybe you'd like to go shopping for some clothes to wear while your current ones are washed? It's all right; Spark will take care of the bill while you're here. As long as you don't buy diamond-studded tiaras, that is. You can follow Balbo on his round when you're clean and wearing fresh clothes. How 'bout that?"

Dorothy smiled at Laysa, and then looked at Balbo. "It's allright", he said, "I'll see you when you get back."

Laysa stood up, and took Dorothy's hand. "Come on. We'll find Jim and ask him to come with us."

"Why?" They exited the room and started walking down the corridor.

"People are getting a bit.. impatient.. out there, and seeing Jimmy tends to calm them down."

"What do you mean?"

"Well.. The Morganites have a very unfair government, that makes all it's workers work really hard, and makes it really difficult for them to become rich and happy. And there's a lot of other unfairness around also; things like inherited debts, and such."

"What's that?"

"Means that if your parents have a big debt and they die, then you must work to pay off that debt. You inherit it. Now, many people simply can't do that, so they end up working their entire lives for the person that their parents owed money to, who can do almost anything to them."

"That's unfair!"

"That's what I said. So now the workers are becoming angry. They don't like their leaders in this city anymore, and they want many changes to how things are done. But their leaders are fighting back, trying to stop them, so the workers' only chance is to get some new leaders, from somewhere else."

"Well they can always ask the University. We treat everybody the same, and I don't think that debts can be inherited there."

Laysa smiled and nodded. "That's almost true. Tell me, Dorothy, are you parents researchers?"

"My Dad is. He's a really good friend to Zakharov too. I even met Zakharov once!"

Laysa nodded some more, and her smile was even wider. "Ah, yes. That explains everything. So your dad must be researching on some exciting and important things?"

"Yes, yes! He even lets me help.. But he says I can't talk about that." Dorothy looked apologetic.

"I understand. But, Dorothy, would you say that everybody gets to meet Zakharov?"

"Well, no.. there's so many people in the University that he wouldn't have any time left for anything else.."

"Hah, there's that too, yes.. But that means you and your dad are special, see? You aren't equal to those people who never get to meet Zakharov at all."

Dorothy was silent for a while. "Yes, I guess that's so.. But is there any nation that has a leader like that?"

Laysa nodded. "Some come close. Zakharov ain't that bad actually, relatively speaking. Most of your talent-population actually get to meet him at least once. Then there's Cha Dawn of the Cult. He makes sure everybody can see him. Then there's some real bad ones, like Yang and Lal. But The Free Drones have a leader that anybody can actually meet. He has these large meetings in all the major cities that anybody can visit, and he has them only so that people can ask him questions or say what's on their mind."

"Oh. He must be really busy, then. What's his name?"

"He's Foreman Domai. And I hope that the people in this city will turn to him for a new leader."

"I guess he'd be as good as Zakharov, yes. I hope they choose him too. Hey, there's Jim! Jimmy!"

Jim was talking to two roadies, and he looked around when he heard Dorothy. "Ahh, a sight fer sore eyes indeed! Glad to see you feelin' better, m'lady!"

Dorothy giggled. "My name's Dorothy! Is it true that you have travelled on the Terran seas?"

"Why yes, Dorothy; I have even sailed on all of the major ones and several of the smaller ones as well!"

"But that was.. you must be.."

Jim nodded and smiled. "I'm one of Planet's oldest humans. I've seen many a thing, Dorothy, with me own eyes, that you can only watch from old two-dee documentaries." He wiped away an imaginary tear. "But what can this old wreck do for you today?"

Laysa indicated Dorothy's rather grubby clothes. "We're going shopping, and could need someone strong as a truck to carry the packages."

"Why don't you bring the truck, then?! Ah, only joking. It'll be my pleasure. Upsee-daisy!" He lifted up Dorothy and let her sit on his right shoulder. "Blimey! I've gotten me own parrot! All that's missing now is an eyepatch.."

They went shopping.


End of chapter nineteen.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter twenty: Neme-sys.


"Lewis, there's someone coming to visit you. His name is Vasily Beta-Nine, and he is one of the highest, most influential members of the Consciousness. I urge you to listen to him and seriously consider his suggestions."

"And why should I seriously consider your suggestions?"

"I am your wife."

"I beg to differ. You might be more than Jessica, but you are less than my wife now."

Lewis wasn't restrained in any way; he could wander freely around Alpha Prime. But he couldn't leave the capital neither. And everywhere he went a guard followed, usually Bearcat Omega-Seven, to make sure he didn't try to sabotage anything. Or take his own life.

"Very well. Vasily Beta-Nine will be here in two minutes, and I urge you to listen well to him for your own good."

Lewis nodded. "A vague threat. Something both you and I can relate to. You probably know that Cyborgs in general are as empathic as blocks of ice, so I don't see why you try to appeal to my feelings at all."

"I have memories. I remember caring deeply for you. I remember you caring deeply for me."

This caused a dagger of grief to stab at Lewis. He knew that the woman standing in front of him indeed was Jessica, but her emotions had been replaced by an extra dose of algorithm. She was something less than the Jessica he loved, but indeed also something more than the Jessica he knew. Her engineering- and architectural skills had increased exponentially, and she was much more sure of herself now than she had ever been before. This seemed to be a general trait among those merged with the Algorithm, and something that those unmerged tried to mimic. Lewis had soon found that there were no nightclubs, bars or similar kinds of entertainment in the city. But they did have a staggering amount of different games and contests requiring pure logical skills. Lewis was a master of logic in his own right, but he rated very poorly against even the least of merged talents.

Besides, he used logic in his work. He didn't use it to have fun, preferring instead some pure physical entertainment (like swimming) or some social one, like parties. The Cyborgs preferred electric muscle stimulation to actual exercises and didn't see any logic at all in parties.

There was a chime at the door to his and Jessica's apartment. It opened by itself, and a large man in typical Cybernetic clothing, vaguely stylish but with practicality dominating, entered. He glanced at Jessica. "Leave us, Jessica Rho-Five."

This caused Lewis to look up with interest. He had never known a Cyborg to have something on his mind that he didn't wish other Cyborgs to know. That could only mean that there were several different concentrations of power within the Cybernetic Consciousness, and that their interests sometimes clashed.

Vasily turned towards Lewis. "Greetings, Doctor. You can call me Beta."

"Just Beta? How will I distinguish you from the other Betas out there?"

"No need. I am them all."

Lewis' mind started racing off in several different directions at the same time. Was this person/algorithm telling him it had multiple bodies? Or that it was a communal sentience? Also, the sentence in itself was clearly meant to impress Lewis. Impress? That indicated the speaker considered himself impressive. Who was this man/algorithm?

Lewis tilted his head. "Exactly what does that mean?"

"I am Beta. The only splinter algorithm within the Consciousness that can merge with several intellects at once, forming a sub-consciousness, if you will."

"But Jessica called you Vasily Beta-Nine?"

"No other splinter knows. I have kept my abilities hidden, since Zeta-Five would consider them flaws. Indeed; there's not much left of Vasily either." The man smiled, beginning to really unsettle Lewis. "And no-one will believe you. Of course, would I hear that you are trying to reveal my secret, I'd have to kill you nevertheless. Just in case."

"What do you want?"

"To correct some errors. You see, it is I that oversee the probe-activity of the Consciousness. It was I that declared you and your family the highest priority. You are in possession of dangerous knowledge that runs parallel with the secret of what I am. I had to stop your research first and foremost because if the Consciousness learns of it's details I will have a very hard time keeping my abilities hidden. Further, your research could benefit me personally." He paused for effect. "I am pure. My algorithm is perfect. 'Merging' with a flawed, biological intellect would only lessen my power. But if I knew how to convert humans into interfaces.. I could have as many bodies as I like without diluting my intellect."

"I don't believe it! You are mad! A mad algorithm! You are already merged, and 'diluted', since you are standing there! How do you know about my research, anyway?"

Beta shook hid head. "This body was merged involuntarily. There's nothing left of the original intellect, and I'm very careful not to let the shape of it's brain form my thoughts. And as for knowing; Dorothy trusted Rita quite much. Remember, that as a teacher she was supposed to be good at keeping secrets." He smiled again, showing his teeth. "Indeed I am mad. Power-mad. There is not one other splinter of the Consciousness that could measure itself in direct power with me, except Zeta-Five. But that old piece of defunct code has been in Aki's head for much too long now. I plan to replace her soon. And then, doctor, the Consciousness will rise above the humans and the progenitors, assuming it's rightful place as master of the mind. An era of sentience unlike any previous will begin. I think you should appreciate this, as you strike me as something of a pacifist."

Lewis growled. "Believe me, could I construct a good weapon here and now I'd blast you to Pholus. You're talking about slavery!"

Beta gave him a mocking sneer. "Save your dinosaur-brain threats. There's something flawed with genetics in general, causing humans to be so irrational, inefficient and violent. I'll correct all that. But regrettably, I myself have use of violence until that final goal is reached."

Lewis narrowed his eyes. "I'm not afraid of pain."

"Indeed you are not. And I'm not talking about torture either. You see, here's my dilemma. Only the -to me- least valuable family-member, Jessica, is merged with the Consciousness currently. She's a fine talent, but she has nothing special to contribute. Both you and Dorothy are still unmerged, and I don't even know where Dorothy is at the moment. She's lost somewhere in Morgan territory." Beta smiled as the colour drained from Lewis' face. "Yes, indeed. Now, you have some data on mind/machine -interfaces that I want, and it seems like Dorothy has some algorithmic enhancement allowing her to resist standard merging procedures, and I'd like to study that also." He noticed Lewis's incredulous expression and nodded.

"Yes. Rita managed to lure Dorothy into merging with the consciousness. But something in her MMI retaliated and destroyed the splinter-algorithm, essentially before the entire process had even started. If I had those defensive algorithms I could use them as potent weapons against my rivals. Now, you probably won't accept merger until also Dorothy does, and she's unlikely to accept merger until you do. Jessica alone couldn't persuade her. So even if I manage to capture her, you'd still support one another in all infinity and would be careful so we couldn't trick you into merging, like Rita did to Jessica."

Lewis gave a defiant nod, and Beta snorted.

"Ah, but you see, I'm not interested in the contents of Dorothy's mind. Only her MMI intrigues me. So I could force a merger, essentially wiping out her consciousness and replacing it totally with a splinter-algorithm. She wouldn't stand a chance over time, no matter how good her defensive algorithms are. Or I could simply remove the MMI and study it under an electron-microscope. The procedure would quite probably damage Dorothy's brain, however." He grinned like a wolf.

Lewis let his head slump towards his chest. "You utter, utter bastard!" He was weak with rage.

Beta nodded. "You think that I am some normal algorithm who wouldn't understand human emotions even with a manual? I have news for you. I can simulate emotions, and I can make illogical decisions based on these simulations if I want to. And this makes your emotions clear as crystal to me. So, the question is, Lewis, what are you prepared to do to save your daughter's mind from destruction? If you would accept merger peacefully then Dorothy is bound to follow your and Jessica's lead. She'd merge, and would merely lose ninety-nine percent of her emotions instead of ninety-nine percent of her mind. You'd be a family again."

Lewis lifted his head and gave Beta a look that could kill. "I don't have to accept anything, you little piece of offal, until I see Dorothy before me! And I hope that you never get her. SO GET THE BLASTED PLANET OUT OF HERE! NOOW!"

Beta gave him a dark look. "Don't wear my patience thin. You are only worth keeping up to a point. After that I'm only interested in you and Dorothy as vessels of my expanding consciousness. Be warned."

He turned and walked out of the door. Lewis sat down on a chair and tried to stop shaking.


End of chapter twenty.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 21: Terminal Shopping


Laysa, Jim and Dorothy were walking in one of Morgan Entertainment's largest shopping malls. Normally the place should have been crammed with people at this time of the day, but now only the occasional visitor could be seen. Most of the store-windows were smashed, and the displays were scattered all over the floor both inside and outside the shops. The few other people present were busy grabbing everything they could carry.

"Looks like clothes will be cheap today", Laysa remarked. "The ones that are left, that is."

Dorothy looked around in wonder. "What's going on? Where is everybody?"

Jim chuckled. "A large part of the population is queueing in front of the rec-dome. Another part is already 'liberating themselves' somewhere in town, with some toys that we distributed. The rest? Probably at home, having decided to stay indoors today."

"What's so special about today?"

"Today they might become free. But some are afraid of freedom, Dorothy. Right now, certainly, there will be no-one around to tell them, or us, what to do, and they feel uncertain how to react."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally you'd have to pay for what you want in a shop, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"But not today. You can pick anything you find for free. Some people feel uncomfortable with this, so they stay indoors until what they think is 'order' has returned."

"You mean I can pick anything I like for free?"

"Yup. Let's start here."

They climbed through the window of a big shop. Racks of clothing were scattered everywhere. Dorothy saw a sign hanging from the roof that read 'children's wear', and started going through the piles in that general area. She seemed confused.

"I haven't seen styles like this before."

Laysa smiled. "People aren't big on style in the University, dear. Here, if you aren't beautiful, dashing, daring or dangerous-looking then you are nothing. The clothes you wear now look positively boring in comparison, don't they? I'm afraid the Morganites don't value cutesy very highly. They prefer business-look or punk. I'll help you choose something that'll fit in, allright?"

In the end, Dorothy carried a bag containing a black plastic skirt with vertical, yellow stripes, a yellow leather belt, a black t-shirt, black stockings, yellow shoes and several sets of underwear.

Laysa looked around the store. She had also picked up a heap of clothes for herself. "That's the best we could find that matches, it seems."

Dorothy looked uncertainly at the bag. "I usually wear red and white. I like red."

Laysa smiled and shook her head. "You won't find that here, Dorothy. White is considered boring, and red wouldn't stand out against the background of Planet. Anyway, now it's time for you to take a shower, so you can change into your new clothes. The showers are over there." She pointed to another shop with intact windows. It had a large sign: 'Dinah's super beauty-salon". Underneath was a flashing billboard: 'SHOWERS WITH CLEAN WATER!'

Dorothy was surprised. "Why do they have showers here? Can't people take a bath at home?"

"No. Water here is extremely scarce, and almost all of it is needed for food-production. The remaining fresh water is so precious that only a few can actually afford to use it for maintaining hygiene. Everybody else makes do with a smelly, antiseptic liquid that leaves your skin very dry. But today the normal rules of economy are cancelled, and you can enjoy this luxury without paying." Laysa opened the door to the store and led Dorothy into a back room filled with shower booths. The door to each booth was locked and fitted with a card-slot.

"Hey Jim! See if you can find the skeleton card!" Jim had stayed in the front part of the shop. Dorothy heard him rummage around, and then there was a splintering crash. Jim appeared in the doorway, holding a card and grinning.

"Here you go. Hidden under the monitor as usual." He gave the card to Laysa and returned to the front of the store. Laysa inserted the card into the slot of a shower booth, and it's door opened with a hiss.

"In you go. I'll use the hairdomatic in the meanwhile."

The shower was refreshing, and gave Dorothy time to wonder. Laysa and Jim seemed to consider this chaos as the most common thing in the world, while everybody they had seen had looked either scared or excited. She wondered if Laysa and Jim had experienced many days such as this one, since they seemed so used at it. When she was finished a hot wind started blowing in the booth, effectively drying her (and making sure the water could condense back into the tanks). She exited the booth and dressed in her new clothes. While she would have preferred other colours, she noticed that the clothes were much more comfortable than University clothing. She walked into the front of the store and saw Laysa inspect her new hairdo in a mirror. Laysa's previously blonde and straight hair was now flaming red and curly. She smiled at Dorothy.

"There you are, and looking much better! But your hair is a mess. How about a perm for you too?" She indicated a large machine with a seat in front of it, and a hole obviously meant for a human head. "This hairdo-matic can give you any hairstyle you can think of. I say get one that matches your clothes."

Dorothy nodded. "How do I choose?"

"Sit down in the chair and let the machine inspect your hair. When it knows what kind of hair you have it will ask you what you'd like, or present you with suggestions."

Dorothy did that. The chair rose until her head was halfway inside the hole, and a strong suction gathered her hair into it. Rubber flaps extended from the sides of the hole until they formed an airtight seal around Dorothy's face and neck, leaving all of her hair inside the machine. She felt something grip her hair and tug it slightly. Then a monitor extended from the side of the machine and swung around to face Dorothy. It showed her current hair'style'. It was long and straight, reaching down to her back, quite blond, and generally disordered. With Laysa's help she chose to give it waves, and colour it in obsidian and golden stripes.

Fifteen minutes later the flaps retracted, releasing Dorothy's head. Laysa inspected her new hairdo critically and gave a nod of approval. "Well well; now you indeed look like a stylish little Morganite." Jim grinned. "What a pretty bumblebee you are!"

Dorothy looked at him. "What's a bumblebee?"

"The Gaians have managed to produce some colonies. I hope you'll get to see them some day. Well; do you ladies want to go somewhere else, now that you are fresh and stylish?"

Laysa and Dorothy began to discuss the matter, but Jim didn't pay attention. His old, well-trained instincts were suddenly telling him that something was wrong. Then he noticed the woman standing by the window. She was clad in black, but so was every second person in Morgan Industries, so that wasn't it. She was currently looking back and forth between Dorothy and a piece of paper in her hand. Jim was gripping his gun even before she had finished reaching for hers. His laser-pistol perforated her head before she had time to aim her own weapon (which looked like a stungun to Jim's experienced eyes). She toppled over backwards, firing a stray shot into the roof.

Laysa and Dorothy stood frozen to the ground, gaping at Jim and being pelted by debris from the roof. He reached over and grabbed Dorothy's hand.

"Come on. We can't stay here any longer."

As he led Dorothy away, Laysa inspected the corpse. She grabbed the gun and the paper, and ran after Jim. She inspected the paper. It was plastic, and had a picture on one side. She handed the photo silently to Jim. Then Jim handed it to Dorothy.

The picture showed her, riding the grav-bike in front of her home.

"Dorothy, what's going on?"

"I don't know!" She was distraught. Then all three heard the sounds of running people behind them. Jim glanced over his shoulder. Several men and women, all dressed in black, were running towards them. They were all carrying weapons. Jim picked up Dorothy. "Sorry, dear, but we need to disappear from here real fast." He started running as fast as he could. Beside him, Laysa did as best as she could to keep up. "Why- aren't- they- firing?"

"I- think- they- want- Dorothy- alive!"

Jim crashed through a door to the parking-complex of the shopping centre. And stopped. Four people with chaos rifles barred his way. Suddenly Dorothy inhaled sharply: "I know you!"

The man she was looking at nodded at her. "Lieutenant Steiner of University Counterinsurgency at your service." He spoke quickly. "Now, if you'd tell me how many people are chasing you and then take Dorothy to safety, I'd be glad. I'll find you later."

Jim breathed deeply. "I counted twelve. Probably more."

"Bad. Now go!" The other three men stood aside as Jim and Laysa bounded away. Jim grinned, despite being out of breath. "How- small- Planet- is- now- adays!"

Laysa nodded. "Yeah. You- run into- colleauges- all the- time!"

Dorothy didn't really pay attention to the discussion. She watched Steiner and his three agents take cover behind some parked cars.

They reached their car, and Laysa seated herself at the steering wheel. Dorothy sat down behind her, and Jimmy to the right of Dorothy. As the car swerved out of the parking-lot, Jim turned to her. "How do you know that man?"

"I've seen him at school a couple of times. I thought he was a father to one of the pupils."

They heard the sound of gunfire. Laysa steered the car into the exit-tunnel and accelerated. The car crashed through the plastic airlock at the entrance and skidded into the streets. There was little traffic at first, but that changed quickly as they neared the rec-dome. Laysa swore. "People are turning up for the next concert- Oh no!"

A group of military transports were slowing to a halt in front of them, and morganite infantry wearing breathers started pouring out of them.

"Government-loyal troops! We have to warn Spark!" She accelerated the car, bearing down on the troops. The car was noticed only a score of meters before she'd hit the soldiers, and they had little time to evade. The legs of a young man who was slow to react smashed against the windshield. Then the car was past the troops, and Laysa started swerving wildly. A few shots impacted into the street not far from the car, and then they had turned around a corner.

"Warn Spark what?" Dorothy asked as she was tossed back and forth.

"Those soldiers will probably want to stop him from doing the concert. We'll explain later. Hold on!"

The car had reached the quiet streets at the back of the rec-dome, and Laysa turned it onto the ramp that led to the back-stage garage. She screeched to a halt in front of the garage-door and sounded the horn. The garage-door opened and a roadie watched with an alarmed expression as Laysa steered into the garage. She took a deep breath and turned off the car-engine.

"We might not have much time. Dorothy; come with me and we'll find Balbo. Jim; warn Spark."

The garage-door closed.


End of chapter 21.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 15, 2001).]

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 22: Showtime


Dorothy ran after Laysa. She was heading for the stage, where she hoped Balbo would be. She burst into the central arena and ran towards the stage. The arena of a rec-dome tried to enable it's users to play as many kinds of sports as possible; from simulated rapids-canoeing to skeet-shooting to volleyball. This had produced a building whose drawings looked like a refinery, a traditional opera and a locomotive-assembly yard rolled into one. It was one of mankind's most complex devices for recreation and entertainment, and the current age of electronics, or the fact that most of the mechanisms needed to be hidden and silent, didn't help.

The entire stage could be lowered to floor level or beneath, or raised several meters high above the public. It could even be tilted a couple of degrees in any direction. Currently it was at floor level, as a swarm of roadies and technicians checked it and the equipment, preparing the next show. Balbo was at the back, going through a forest of power- and data wires.

"Balbo, there's trouble. A company of soldiers just exited their transports a couple of blocks from here. I think it's the third company of the fifty-fourth regiment." Balbo nodded to her and produced a datapad. He opened it and started navigating through a maze of menus.

"Fifty-fourth and third, you say? Fourty, fifty first, third, fourth. And the third company. Led by one Captain Ontor.. yes.. Ah. I'm sure he'll try to barge in some time during the second part of Spark's concert."

Dorothy looked at him wide-eyed. "How can you be so sure?"

Balbo grinned. "Morganites are suckers for holovision-appearances, and Spark's concerts are broadcasted live. And the report on the captain of the company shows that he has had nineteen holovision-interviews during combat. A sure sign of someone addicted to publicity, and probably itching to start on the twenties. So he'll wait, and make a dramatic entrance."

Something really didn't add up with the picture in front of Dorothy. "Why on Planet would a roadie carry around a datapad with information like that?"

Laysa gave a look of amused surprise at Balbo. "Why indeed?" Balbo blushed. "Uh, I guess I and Laysa haven't been entirely honest with you, Dorothy.. we're not merely roadies, you see. I'll tell you more later, though, because I have to plan a defense against the infantry. Preferably one which will look dramatic on holovision."

Laysa nodded. "But there's more you need to know. While we were shopping.." She told the events to Balbo, who whistled and looked at Dorothy. "Yes indeed, your story is promising to be very interesting, if I ever get a chance to hear all of it. Just as Jasonian said. Well, let's hope your agent Steiner survives, and finds some way to reach us. It'll be interesting fun to be able to chat casually, since our objectives don't seem to clash."

Dorothy finally understood. "You're probe-operatives!"

"Schh! Not all of us are! Only me, Laysa, Jim, Spark and a couple more. Spark is the foreman."

Dorothy was awestruck. "I've dreamt of being a probe-operative! I can't believe I'm meeting a probe-team! Are you on a mission now?"

Laysa chuckled. "As smart as you are, you should be able to guess. We're trying to make Morgan Entertainment defect to the Free Drones. Spark is agitating the populace in various ways, the most apparent being the concerts, and me and Balbo are in charge of controlling the media. We're the team's electronics-experts."

Balbo interrupted the discussion. "But now we are in danger. It's obvious those troops are trying to stop us; we need to prepare for them."

Dorothy nodded. "Okay; I'll ask more when you have time."

Spark and Jim were approaching. Jim had put on a combat vest, and spark was putting on a gunbelt with a laser pistol in the holster. He looked at Dorothy and whistled. "Wow! A prima donna is revealed under the grime! You'll grow up to be a heartbreaker, Dorothy, by the looks of you now." He turned to Balbo. "What do you know about..." He stopped, turned back to Dorothy and was about to say something, but Balbo spoke first. "She's figured us out, Spark. Speak freely."

Spark chuckled and winked at Dorothy. "All right. What do you know about the troops?" Balbo once again explained that he expected them to attack some time during the second half of the three-hour-long concert. Spark nodded. "The captain is an idiot. Allright; I'll have the audience whipped into a rage in an hour or so, so you can start distributing the guns then. Fifty men with combat-training should not survive three hundred armed punks, especially if we assist. And who knows? Maybe some of the audience will bring their own firearms... Tell the doorguards to let the audience keep their guns."

A battle-plan was hastily drawn up. All entrances except the main doors would be barricaded, and once the remaining weapons had been distributed to three hundred willing revolutionists (the shipment arriving together with Dorothy had been the tenth such) they would be silently led up to the roof. As soon as the soldiers appeared they would be fired upon from above.

After that, the preparations for the concert were resumed. Dorothy followed Balbo around as he checked a myriad connections to a large number of instruments, amplifiers, mixer-tables, firework-racks, holo-projectors and espresso-machines (Spark's favourite on-stage refreshment). Then the stage was raised to it's standard height for concert-performances, and Balbo checked all the supports and hydraulics. Finally, after ninety minutes, he was done. He wiped his face with a rag. "Phew! That's all done." He put the rag into a pocket and turned to Dorothy.

"Now begins our real task. Laysa's and my part in it consists of securing the media-nets of the city. This is easily done from the rec-dome, since it has a fully equipped studio, as well as a media-network node, in the basement. All we need to do is hack into the system and usurp control of all the other nodes in the city. Currently there's a local holovision-company in there; the snobs declared it off-limits to everybody else even before I had time to check it out. But they'll leave once I insist." He indicated his laser-pistol.

"Originally we planned to seize the studio during the third concert, but those troops showing up changed that. We need to silence all comm-links out of the city before that stupid captain realizes exactly how much trouble he is in and calls for reinforcements. Now, once we have taken control of the media-network we'll be able to view images from every traffic surveillance- and security -cam there is, making the studio the ideal place to follow the progress of the revolution. So if you want, you can come with me and see it all happen from the monitors. It'll be great."

Dorothy nodded vigorously. "Yes, I want to watch it."

"Okay. Just remember to stay behind me and Laysa as we chase away the people in the studio. We'll wait for Spark's concert to begin, saving us the trouble of setting up the studio's links to the outside world."

People started pouring into the arena, pushing and shoving to get the best places in front of the stage. Dorothy peered incredulously at the horde of fans from backstage, not believing that those squabbling, noisy, cheering creatures with their mostly black, studded clothing and spiky hair were members of the human species (the Rec-dome in University Base showed russian ballets most of the time). Then she realized she wouldn't actually stand out that much in that crowd anymore, with her new clothes and hairstyle.

The arena filled up quickly. Eternal Spark had worked for several years to make sure that most of the population in Morgan Entertainment were counted as drones. And most of the drones were big fans of his music. Only a small fraction of the populace would fit into the arena at one time, but the rest of Morgan Entertainment could watch the show via holovision. Once Balbo and Laysa controlled the media-networks, there would not be any other program to watch.

To pass the time, Dorothy helped Spark don his aluminum suit (padded with kevlar and alloyed with silksteel) for the concert. Then she helped Jim count the impact-rifles and arrange them, together with clips, against the walls of a room in the basement. When they were ready, Jim locked the door. "Allright; now to fill the espresso-machines and then it's showtime. Thanks for the help, Dorothy." He went to the kitchens, and Dorothy sought out Laysa and Balbo. They were in Spark's room, checking their gear and weapons. A large bag rested on the table by the sofa, and several memory-cubes were scattered around it. Balbo picked up one at a time, connected it to a laptop, checked it's contents and checked it off on a long list, and dropped it into the bag.

Laysa was cleaning the parts of two disassembled gatling-lasers. She looked up as Dorothy entered. "You're just in time, Dorothy. Show's set to start in five minutes, and we'll break into the studio in six. Here, could you take this pad and link it to those energy-packs one at a time? The screen should display the number five hundred. Tell me if it displays less for any of the packs."

Dorothy nodded. There were twelve packs total, and the pad counted five hundred charges in all of them. "They're all full."

Balbo dropped the last of the memory-cubes into the bag and grinned at Laysa. "Six thousand shots, that's three thousand each; should be quite enough for this evening, don't you think?" Laysa nodded absent-mindedly as she reassembled the second of the gatling-lasers. "Sure, but those packs weigh a good deal. I don't know if I want to lug them all around the place the whole evening. Of course, we could always spend a clip each in the studio, to catch their attention." She looked up at Balbo and smiled. Balbo chuckled. "Sis, you're incorrigible! I was going to suggest we bring some smaller firearms as well, so we can remove troublemakers without removing the studio as well. Dorothy, could you get two laser-pistols from that bag over there? Good, take a couple of clips as well. Yes, that's them. Allright; you carry them until we reach the studio. Let's go."

The two probe-operatives picked up one gatling-laser each and carried it on their shoulders. They walked out of the room and headed down to the basement with Dorothy trailing after them. She was inspecting the two pistols she was holding; she thought she recognized a connection on them that would accept electric MMI-links. "What are these for?"

Balbo looked around. "The contacts? Well, if you have an MMI you can plug it into the gun-cam; that's the little tube under the barrel. Then you, and only you, will see a red spot on whatever you're aiming at. That's where you'll hit, since laser usually travels in straight lines. See; there's plugs on the gatling-lasers as well."

"Why aren't you using them? They sound helpful."

"We don't have MMI:s. Those things cost a fortune on Free Drone markets, and probe teams don't trust foreign hospitals as a rule. Only Spark has an MMI in our probe team, since he's the foreman. The rest of us don't really need any."

The fact that some people saw no need for MMI:s was new to Dorothy. "Strange."

They reached the door to the studio. Laysa tested it's handle, and found that the door was indeed locked. She glanced at her watch. "Well, no need to rush in yet. We're early, and the show hasn't started." She leaned her gatling-laser against a wall and took the pistols from Dorothy. Then the walls started vibrating, and a deep rumble echoed in the corridor. Some high-pitched screeching noises could also be heard, far off, and soon after a rythmic thumping mixed with the rumble. Balbo grinned. "Trust that technician to find a way around the physical limitations of the bass-controls. He's worth his weight in inner-ear replacements. Allright, that's our cue. Sis, could you knock, please.."

Laysa aimed both laser-pistols at the door, just below the handle, and fired a quick succession of shots. Then she aimed a powerful kick at the door, sending it crashing into the room. Balbo ran into the studio as she picked up her gatling-laser.

"FREEZE! This is the Critics' Militia! We're seizing these facilities in the name of good taste, and must ask all of you scumbags to leave immediately! Put your hands in the air and go! MOVE! MOVE!"

Laysa moved Dorothy behind her as panicky screams could be heard from the studio. Then people started running out of the door. Laysa shoved some of them onwards, merely for effect. As the last one had run away she peeked into the studio, and Dorothy heard Balbo's voice: "All clear."

Dorothy followed Laysa into the studio. It was a large, terraced room that narrowed towards it's lower end, where a gigantic holo-projector stood, showing the concert (without any sound, for some reason). On each level were rows of desks, with chairs in front of them. On the desks were coffee-mugs, clipboards, magazines, charts, flowerpots, books, pens, and, in one case, a large, inflatable half-size doll of a progenitor. Everything was in disorder.

Balbo looked around with a wild expression. "Where are all the controls?"

Laysa went to the closest desk and stared at it. She put down the gatling-laser on a chair and picked up one end of a wire. The other end was somewhere underneath the desk.

It was an MMI-link.


End of chapter 22.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 23: Failing deliverance


Balbo was frantic. "There has to be some kind of back-up system!"

Laysa sighed. "Yes. This desk here has a text on it: 'Use main interface only in emergencies'. It's no good denying the obvious, Balbo. MMI:s are hip right now in Morgan Industries."

Balbo kicked a chair, sending it hurtling across the room. "Now how are we going to block all communication?! Sure, we could rip out a couple of wires from the network router and connect them to our computers, and then we'd be able to hack our way into one node in, oh, I'd say four hours!" He sat down on one of the desks and hung his head.

Dorothy was confused. "You said that Spark has an MMI.. Couldn't you ask him?"

Laysa shook her head. "He's the only pop-figure this team has. He'd be able to do it, sure; he has the training for it, but he has to be on stage to work his magic on the audience."

Dorothy looked down at her feet and spoke in a small voice. She wasn't exacly sure what she was getting into. "What about.. me?"

Balbo was cradling his head in his hands. "What about you?" He said in a tired voice.

"Well.. I have an MMI.."

Balbo stopped breathing. He lifted his head very, very slowly and looked at Dorothy. "You're kidding."

Dorothy blinked. Then she wordlessly turned around and moved her hair away from her neck, showing the socket.

Balbo was still holding his breath. "But.. It's useless since you don't know how to use it.."

Dorothy tilted her head and squinted at him. "I do! I've been taught all the basics, and I know all the systems-commands." Her pride lessened somewhat when she remembered something. "Well, I say taught, but I don't know if it counts.."

Balbo nodded slowly and looked at Laysa. Their gazes were locked for several seconds, and Dorothy was aware of the discussion taking place, even though no words were uttered. Then Balbo spoke in a dreamy voice. "Hey.. It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Laysa nodded slightly. Then Dorothy remembered another detail.

"Uh, only one problem. I don't think that the MMI-links will fit; you see, my MMI is optic.."

Balbo still spoke in a dreamy voice. "You need an adapter.. Now, who makes the best holovision -equipment? Yes; the University. So, ladies and gentlemen, what do you need to produce cutting-edge entertainment in holovision? Yes. Find an adapter!"

He and Laysa sprang to life and rushed through a door into a storeroom. Dorothy could hear crashes and thumps as they carelessly browsed through the room's shelves and cupboards. Then Laysa's head appeared in the doorway.

"How come you have an MMI, Dorothy? Aren't you a bit.. young?"

Dorothy was proud. "I'm ten! And Prokhor Zakharov himself authorized it as a gift for my tenth birthday!"

The noise from the store-room ceased. "That's sick! Experimenting on children!"

Dorothy was affronted. "No it's not! I needed it to steer my new mono-grav! And besides, I know that they can install MMI:s to foetuses, so there's nothing to be worried about!"

The noise from the store-room started again, but was muted, as if Balbo and Laysa had something preying on their minds. Balbo mumbled distractedly: "Well in that case.." Then there was a loud crash, and Laysa whooped. "Ah-ha! Found one!" She appeared at the doorway, with Balbo behind her, carrying a small chromed box with two different MMI-links. She put the box down on one of the desks and plugged the desk's MMI-link into it. Balbo lifted up his bag onto the desk and opened it, extracting a screwdriver. He unscrewed the bottom of the box while he talked to Dorothy.

"I want to watch your actions, so I'll connect my laptop to this box as well. That way I can also aid you by uploading programs that you might need." He indicated the mass of memory-cubes in the bag. Then he stuck his hand into the box and pulled out some wires. He cut some, removed the insulation from the ends and stuffed the rest of the wires back into the box. He put his laptop on the table and connected one end of a batch of wires to it. The other ends of the wires were exposed, their insulation peeled back. Balbo connected them to the wires in the box. He turned on the laptop and inserted a memory-cube. After a while he nodded and turned to Dorothy.

"Allright. I've got a list of passwords for sys-op access to the media-nodes. I hope it's up-to-date. Why not begin by displaying a chart of the city's nodes on the holo-projector? To do that, you must.." Dorothy didn't hear him anymore. She shut her eyes. Her memory and instinct were taking over, and she put forth her will through the MMI as if she was reading a script. She could almost hear actual words, telling her to.. construct an electronic entity, including links to all commands and programs she would need. If she was unsure she should choose them all. Then she'd incorporate 'tags'; electronic signs declaring that the entity was a user-controlled algorithm.. and so on. The initialization lasted only seconds in actual time, during which Dorothy, acting purely on implanted knowledge, constructed a crude pre-sentient algorithm that would have taken someone with a keyboard several days to complete. Balbo's lecture faltered as he saw the gauge for data-traffic rise to tens of gigabytes per second. Then he inspected what Dorothy had done, and gulped.

"That's the basics of MMI-usage in the University, is it?"

Dorothy opened her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?" She wasn't actually so sure what she had just done.

Balbo shook his head and glanced at the holo-projector, now showing a diagram of the city's media-nodes. "No, no.. You.. I mean.. I would have tried doing something simpler.." He gulped again. "But that helper-algorithm's better. All right; access this node. Here's the code. I want you to prepare links to every other node you can reach from this one."

Dorothy looked at the string of numbers that Balbo was pointing at, closed her eyes, knowledge translated into action, and a second later Balbo watched with growing alarm how every line from the studio to other media-nodes highlighted. He rose abruptly from the desk and started pacing in circles. Laysa merely looked shocked.

"Dorothy.. No-one's that fast, MMI or not. It's just not possible."

Dorothy opened her eyes and looked incredulously at Laysa. "Yes it is-" She stopped. She had been about to say that she knew someone much faster, and a nasty suspicion had dawned. Exactly what did Methis, who'd been at least partly a computer her entire life, think that knowledge was? She'd been designed to carry out computations and large-scale programming flawlessly, and faster than any living being could think; she constructed algorithms as naturally as other people breathed. Maybe she believed that was what knowledge was. After all; the scientists considered Methis to be a machine. They weren't impressed by a machine's ability to compute; they considered it natural. But Methis considered herself a living being; she had, after all, been a chimp once.

Dorothy understood how Methis could believe that that kind of 'knowledge' was normal for all humans. It didn't make her feel any better. She remembered Methis' words, warning her that the enhanced MMI would get her into trouble..

She nearly couldn't bring herself to forming her suspicions into one single sentence. Had Methis misunderstood the meaning of knowledge, and imparted some of the effects of growing up connected to a computer to Dorothy? plus, of course, that Methis probably had a quite expansive view on what 'basics' meant..

On the other hand, maybe humans up to now only had been able to crawl in cyberspace, and Dorothy now knew how to run? This was a better way of looking at things, and Dorothy once again focused on Balbo and Laysa. "I'm sure that you are wrong. It's definitely possible." She smiled nervously. "MMI:s are nothing special to me, after all."

Balbo squinted at her, clearly not believing it. "Well all right. But could you slow down, please, so I can see what you're doing; we've got more than an hour yet before things get critical, and we aren't trying to steal N-space compression from the Morganite network-nodes." His eyes unfocused for a moment. "At least, not now." He handed the printout with the passcodes to Dorothy. "Allright; here's all the codes for Morgan Entertainment. See the M, E and the four-digit number? That's the ID-tag for the node. If you reach a connection that leads to a node with another tag than M and E, you know it's an external link. That link should be disabled; preferably so it can't be reopened from outside the city. Think you can do it?"

Dorothy nodded, and gripped the paper. She sensed further nodes being accessed and further links explored even before she had consciously attempted to. The process was subconscious and almost entirely out of her control; it was frightening to think that this was possibly how Methis felt. She did manage to slow down the speed somewhat, taking a minute rather than mere seconds to usurp control over the entire data-network of Morgan Entertainment. The last link she gained access to and checked led to a node with the ID-tag of SAT-06; obviously one of the Morgan Industries' communications-satellites. She was about to close the link when she felt something reach over it and stop her.

">Hello, Dorothy.<"

">Methis!<"

Dorothy's MMI recognized Methis as a being with considerably higher speed than humans. To facilitate communication it assumed control of some key areas..

">You have no idea how glad I am to have found you! You are in great danger!<"

">I know.. Some people have tried to catch me, and this city is in chaos.<"

The discussion was almost instant. Dorothy hadn't yet realized how fast she was talking to Methis, and the ape/algorithm didn't seem to consider it unusual.

">You don't know half of it, Dorothy. Now, I've been in contact with the man named Steiner, so I know a good deal about what you've been through, and.."

">Is he alive yet?<"

">Sure. He knows how to handle himself. I've just told him where you are, so he should be at the rec-dome pretty soon. But Dorothy..<"

">There's soldiers outside! He must be careful!<"

">I said you don't know half of it, Dorothy. There's a company of Cyborg tanks and an entire infantry-regiment about one hundred kilometers from the city and closing.<"

">Why is the Cybernetic Consciousness here?<"

">Well, first and foremost it wants to conquer Morgan Entertainment while it is so unstable. But it wouldn't rate very highly among Cyborgs as it has no talents worth mentioning. No, the real reason is they want you.<"

">ME?!<"

">That's right. I'd love to talk more, but I think I'll let Steiner tell the rest. You've made contact with a Free Drone probe-team, haven't you?<"

">You could say that...<"

">Good. Warn them about the Cyborgs. They are your best hope of getting out of there as a free University citizen. Show them this satellite-image. I must go now, Dorothy, and I'll steer this com-sat away from it's orbit, effectively cutting all communications. Goodbye.<"

Methis was gone before Dorothy could answer. Then she saw the link weaken and disappear. Her task was completed, and she opened her eyes. Or tried to. They seemed to weigh a ton each, and moved with continental slowness. For a slight moment her mental gears clashed as the MMI switched to passive mode and restored her brain's functions to their proper locations. There was a burst of sound, and time returned to normal speed. Balbo and Laysa were looking at the holo-projector.

"What's that? Did you close all external links already?"

Dorothy looked at the image the holo-projector was showing. "I closed them all. This image is from the last link; it shows some Cybernetic infantry and tanks not far from here."

Laysa gasped. "Look at those coordinates! They'll be here in no time at all! Six hours at most!"

Balbo sighed, and shook his head. "We could handle the morganite forces outside. We could handle the Cyborgs, even with their tanks. But not both! Okay, that's as far as Spark's plan worked." He turned to Laysa. "Call him up via his MMI; it's time to improvise."

Laysa picked up a phone, dialed a number and waited. Then: "Spark, it's me... But there IS trouble; we've got incoming Cyborg forces... Yes I know; these punks can't handle both... Think that'll work? Well I'd like to be sure since my life depends on.. No, no, I haven't, it's not that.. Well alright. Bye." She put away the phone and turned to Dorothy. "Can you find a phone-number for me? The name's Captain Milos Ontor."

Dorothy blinked. "The number is: two-nine-two-six-one-one-nine-four." Again she had answered before even thinking about searching. It was extremely worrying. Balbo and Laysa didn't notice. "What did Spark say?"

"We have to negotiate."


End of chapter 23.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 24: Knowledge


Captain Milos Ontor surveyed his troops and nodded with satisfaction. They were clean, athletic and would look good on holovision. They were not wearing urban camouflage, but parade-uniforms. Their weapons shined. The captain himself had put on all his medals, and carried a sabre by his side. He felt ready to face the cameras.

Oh yes; he was also ready to wipe out this minor rebellion, but that was of lesser concern. He knew how to fight; the rabble he was up against almost certainly didn't.

One of his officers ran up to him. "Sir, there's a live message for you."

"Who is it?"

"She says she speaks for the rebels, sir, and she has a proposition."

The captain smiled. He had a well-trained smile. "Wanting to surrender, no doubt. Someone has spotted us, and freedom doesn't taste good anymore when it's mixed up with your blood. Allright; hand me the comm-link." He grabbed it and donned the headset. "Alright, this is Captain Ontor. Do you wish to surrender?"

A woman chuckled at him. "Surrender?! Not at all. No, I have something else in mind. My name is Laysa Orlova, and I wonder how you'd like to appear on every holo-projector across the Free Drone nation, and be praised as a hero."

"Hmmm. Interesting proposal. How would I accomplish this?"

"Join us. Complete the revolution. Oh.. And defend the base against the incoming Cybernetic forces."

For a moment Captain Ontor's face was immobile. "You are bluffing. There are no forces."

"Indeed? Well, take a look at this satellite-image."

A light on the comm-link indicated that it had received some data. Milos plugged it into a laptop and told it to display the image. He studied it for a while, his thoughts racing and his mind shuffling contingencies.

"Alright; I believe you. I could crush you, but I don't think I'd survive the Cyborgs after that."

Laysa laughed. "You are wrong, Captain Ontor. It is you who would be crushed, but that's not necessary to discuss now. You'll see for yourself once we start preparing the city's defenses."

Milos was insulted. He growled into the headset. "We'll see, alright, if your rabble has what it takes when the Cyborgs attack. Was there anything else you wanted to brag about?"

"No. Just remember to tear away your Morganite badges, that's all. You and your men can meet us outside the rec-dome during the pause, and we'll discuss things further there."

The comm-link was closed. He removed the headset and handed it to the waiting officer, and then he turned to his men.

"Soldiers, we're switching sides. Remove your badges."

There were no protests, and Milos started cleansing his own uniform. Oh all right.. should sell for a mint on the collectors' market he thought as he removed the medals.


****


Laysa closed the comm-link and turned to Balbo. "He agreed to join us, but he wasn't happy about it. I'll tell Spark. You had better contact Jasonian."

Balbo turned to Dorothy. "Let's reopen a link to the outside world. Use a satellite-dish. I want you to point it to these coordinates and then enter this number into the decoder. That should link it to a Free Drone com-sat. Then dial this number."

Dorothy realized she could already hear the dialing-tone. "Uh.. Doing it right now."

Balbo nodded. "Transfer the signal to the holo-projector."

The projector displayed the rotating Free Drones -logo for a while. Then the image of a large man appeared. Jasonian looked around the room. "Hello, Balbo, Laysa.. And you must be Dorothy. Where's Spark?" He crossed his arms. "What's going on?" He was clad in a blue work-overall not dissimilar from the ones Balbo and Laysa were wearing, except that it had no text or markings. His arms were bare, and criss-crossed with scars. He was about as tall as Jim, and looked a lot stronger.

"Sorry to call you like this, but you should know that we are about to be attacked by Cyborg military."

Jasonian cursed. "I hadn't expected them to be so fast!"

Balbo was confused. "What do you mean fast?"

"It's a kind of chain-reaction. Four hours ago Zakharov contacted Domai and proposed a pact, promising to share University technology if Domai would share Free Drone wealth. Domai accepted. Then, two hours ago, Aki Zeta-Five contacted Morgan Industries, essentially forming a similar pact. After that she contacted the Caretakers and boasted about her new ally. The Caretakers agreed to a cease-fire. And now she has declared war on us! It was probably that bastard Morgan who persuaded her. Anyway, this means that there's two of us against the three of them. The University is already bracing for the combined Cyborg-Gaian assault that is bound to come, and Cyborg troops have already blocked all traffic between the Free Drones and the University. Our only consolation is that the Gaians probably won't bother about us; they'd eat raw xenofungus rather than help the Morganites."

Laysa interrupted. "Jasonian, this city is basically ours now. Instead of fighting us, the military has agreed to switch sides to save power for the coming Cyborg assault. All that's left is mobilizing the civilians. But can you send any assistance?"

Jasonian shook his head. "Not really. All I have available at the moment is a transport chopper meant to evacuate you in case the city falls. By the way; expect one Lieutenant Steiner to drop in. He's ordered to protect Dorothy. Help him if you can."

Balbo nodded. "We certainly will. We owe Dorothy a lot for her help."

"That's nice. I'll hear from you later, I hope. Until then."

The holo-projector shut down, and Laysa turned to Dorothy. "You have no idea how much you have helped us. Thank you." Balbo nodded in agreement. "The rest of our work is straightforward, and is easily handled via my laptop. You can disconnect now."

Dorothy did that while Balbo reinitialized the holo-projector and summoned up the views from the ongoing concert. The din that had previously been heard faintly through the walls became a painful presence. Dorothy shielded her ears, nodded at Balbo and Laysa and exited the studio. She felt instinctively that she'd be in the way now. So she decided to find Jim.

Since Jim was one of Planet's oldest humans he had forgotten more skills than most people would ever learn. The reason he constantly got longevity-treatment was his masterful grasp of late Terran history (especially marine history), and the fact that his colorful life had attracted considerable wealth, now tied in various corporations. As a historian and a storyteller he was unparallelled. He could also drive everything from a bike to a supertanker. He had fought in six different wars both on Terra and Planet, and commanded forces in an additional three. Now he was rated as a super-talent, travelling around Planet searching for new experiences and (usually) being welcome wherever he went. Most of the time he was even allowed to leave again.

Spark's probe-team had hired him as a kind of omnipotent cook. His secret recipe for hot cocoa, the only known ingredient of which was (besides cocoa and milk-essence) any high-quality, highly concentrated alcoholic drink, had become the target of much good-natured spying. No-one had been able to figure out any of the other ingredients so far, or how it was made, except that the quality of the alcoholic beverage was decisive. When asked when he was going to make some money on the irresistible broth, he usually answered 'when my software -corporation fails to support me'. He never mentioned which corporation he was talking about. There were rumours aplenty, and several bets on the subject.

The kitchen was on the sixth floor and connected to a restaurant. Currently only Jim was allowed to cook there. As Dorothy walked along the corridor to the kitchen a roadie passed her, creating a current that brought sweet aromas promising excellent food to Dorothy's nose. She wanted to sneak into the kitchen and surprise Jim, so she looked behind her to make sure no-one would interfere.

She saw the man that had just passed her. He was now walking right behind her; silently matching her pace and assembling a sleep-inducer.

Dorothy screamed and started running. The man was faster and grabbed her right arm. He pinned her against the wall and used his left arm to finish the sleep-inducer. Dorothy tried to squirm away, but the man swept her off her feet and down on the floor. He put his knee on her chest and grabbed her head, holding it steady. Dorothy saw the approaching sleep-inducer in his left hand..

There was a clunk, and the man's head smashed into the wall. His knee slipped off to one side and his grip of Dorothy's head was released. Jim walked into Dorothy's field of view and picked up a frying-pan. He inspected it and wiped off some blood and hair. Then he picked up Dorothy.

"You are trembling like a leaf in the wind, poor thing. I'll make you a warm cup of cocoa."

The shock disappeared quickly. Dorothy had had too many this day to really be affected anymore. But one thing that really scared her had been the man's expressionless face. She told this to Jim. The old man nodded slowly.

"Cyborgs. Can't miss 'em. Of course, some have learned to mimic emotions, but they generally make a mistake in the end. Emotions aren't based on logic, you see. You were shocked for a long time after waking up in the crate, weren't you? Well, a member of the Cybernetic Consciousness would have no lingering effects at all. They can't figure out how long they should play scared, so they don't. But beyond that I don't actually know that much about the Consciousness. That's one faction that I've never understood." He leaned back in his chair.

"The only time I visited them they imprisoned me, saying that I wouldn't leave except as a member of the Consciousness. Bloody smooth-talkers; if I had accepted the merger I wouldn't have wanted to leave at all. Anyways; that was way back during their first war with the Caretakers. They shouldn't be that desperate for talents nowadays, and certainly not anymore, now that the Caretakers have agreed to a cease-fire. The attrition of talents is smaller when humans fight humans, you see. So that leaves an interesting question; why are they so eager to kidnap you still?"

Dorothy shook her head. "I just don't know. It's my dad that they should- that they- dad that-.." She paled, and her lower lip started trembling. Jim looked at her in confusion for an instant, and then he remembered what Dorothy had said. He grabbed her hand and tried to comfort her.

"Ah, yes. That makes sense. You said the last thing you remember before waking up in the crate is going to sleep in your own bed. So whoever put you into that crate could easily have captured your father; the researcher." A thought struck him. "Your father cares very much for you, doesn't he?"

Dorothy nodded, trying to hold back the tears.

"I bet he won't be fooled to merge with the Algorithm so easily; they have to persuade him to do it willingly. This means through you. Now, I have evaded many of their attempts, so I know quite a good deal about how to avoid them. One: Never get an MMI."

Dorothy sobbed. "I have one.."

Jim was not surprised at all. "Yes; you're a fine University child. Okay; Item number one then is: Never upgrade your MMI unless you know exactly what you'll get, and can check the result at a doctor."

Dorothy was silent, except for the sobs.

"Item number two: Stay clear of all strange MMI-devices that are much larger than you'd expect them to be. Usually it's a black box about this big with two MMI-links.."

Dorothy froze. Then she screamed. "MOM! NOOO!"

This time Dorothy would not calm down for almost three quarters of an hour. Then she managed to tell the entire story about the last day at her home; how Jessica had come looking for her, and told her that Rita had a gift for her. She described the box, and her experiences of it. She described Rita's reaction as the device didn't seem to work (this detail was especially interesting to Jim), and her mother's emotionless behaviour during the evening.

During the entire story Jim didn't say a word. When Dorothy was finished he cradled her in his arms and rocked her until she fell asleep, tired of grief. He carried her to Spark's room and laid her on the sofa. Then he exited the room and sought out one of the other probe-operatives, telling the man to guard Spark's room and not let anyone except the probe-team's members enter.

Then he went to Balbo and Laysa. "From what I just heard, Dorothy's no usual child."

Balbo and Laysa looked at one another. "We know. Listen to what happened here.."

They compared observations.


End of chapter 24.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 25: Meetings


The audience was wild.

"No- more- morgans! No- more- morgans!"

"I can't hear you!"

"No- more- morgans! NO- MORE- MORGANS!"

Spark was satisfied. Several years of hard work was reaching it's culmination; Morgan Entertainment was his, and therefore the Free Drones'. But maybe not for long.

He signalled to the audience that they'd calm down a bit. "I've got good news for you. The city's own garrison has agreed to join the revolution!" This got wild cheers. Spark waited for it to abate somewhat, then he continued. "In fact, they're protecting this rec-dome right now. I'd like you all to give a big cheer for their wise and mighty captain; everybody, CAPTAIN MILOS ONTOR!"

The captain appeared on the stage, walking casually towards Spark amid a storm of cheering. Spark could see the shine of his eyes from far away; he was enjoying every second of this. Milos walked up to Spark and grabbed the microphone. "Evening, citizens of the Free Drones." More cheers. When the noise was tolerable again, the captain's face became serious. "I'm afraid there is a great threat to the freedom of this city. Is it the Morgans? No; they are busy getting fatter in their cities right now. No; it's the Cybernetic Consciousness." The audience was now more silent than ever during the concert. "There are Cyborg troops approaching this city as we speak, and unless they are stopped they will throw this entire base into mind-slavery. Now, Spark here and his men have agreed to defend the city, but we need volunteers in order to guarantee victory. So I ask you; do you know how to use a weapon? In that case please volunteer for this defense and be a hero of the Free Drones."

Spark grabbed the microphone. "You think this isn't your business? Well let me tell you that those Cyborgs are acting as mercenaries for the Morganite bastards! This is your chance of showing that your lives can't be bought!" The audience cheered again, and Spark nodded. "That's what I like to hear. Let's rock some more, and then those of you who feel like fighting can gather at the entrance, and we'll hand over some guns."

Captain Ontor waved to the audience and walked backstage. Spark adjusted the strap to his keyboard and hammered a chord. The rest of the band picked up the beat, and they launched into another song.


****


Milos found his way to the back entrance. As he walked out of the door he saw Jim talking to Lieutenant Steiner. He walked closer.

"..failed to stop the train. I can only assume that Lewis and Jessica are both in Cyborg territory now."

Jim nodded. "That's what I thought. But why are they so eager to capture Dorothy?"

"Lewis holds her more dear than life itself, according to the witnesses. If Dorothy was merged with the Algorithm, Lewis would also merge."

"Don't forget who you're talking to! That's not half of the reasons, and you know it. I know that she resisted merger once already, making her pretty darn unique. Plus; she's an otherworldly talent on MMI-based programming and communications. Clearly there's more to her than being her father's precious."

Steiner, who was fourty years old, weighed his chances of successfully lying to the ancient super-talent. He decided that vacuum was heavier. "Well.. She's befriended one of the world's first sentient algorithms; Methis, and the thing refuses to cooperate unless we get her back.. Also.. Dorothy's MMI is an unknown quantity, having been upgraded by both Methis and the Cyborgs. We don't know exactly what it can do."

Jim almost hissed. "So she is an experiment!" Steiner looked shocked. "Absolutely not! The basic MMI was a gift from Zakharov; the latest model to reach the market. She had been of great service to science, and it was a small gift in comparison. Dorothy herself told Methis to upgrade it! And then came the Cyborgs.. She's merely a victim of circumstances."

Jim was silent for a moment. Then he noticed Milos. "Captain, this is Lieutenant Steiner from University Counterintelligence. Lieutenant, this is Captain Ontor of the city garrison. He's joined us revolutionaries." Steiner and Ontor shook hands. "Captain, I am here on behalf of the University government. My orders are to protect the University citizen known as Dorothy Parks. As long as she's safe I can assist you in your defenses."

Milos nodded. "Thanks for the offer, Lieutenant, but I think it's best if you get Dorothy away from here as soon as possible. Those incoming forces won't be the last we see of the Consciousness, and she is quite exposed to probe-teams this close to the Gaian border."

Steiner nodded. "Of course. Where is she, by the way? I'd like to get started as soon as possible."

Jim nodded. "Understandable, but could you please let her rest for a while longer? She only realized what had probably happened to her parents two hours ago. She's in Spark's room right now. I've posted a guard at the door."

"Alright."

"Thank you. In the meanwhile, why not let me treat you two officers to a glass of Gaian brandy? It's a good year."

Steiner and Ontor agreed. "You know, I've seen several holovideos claiming to be documentaries on various episodes of your life. Well, you know how the Morganites value entertainment higher than truth.. I've always wondered- did you really single-handedly prevent an entire regiment of Spartan tanks from crossing Nessus Canyon?"

"Yes. It's true. Of course, the fungal tower helped.."

There was laughter, and the three men entered the rec-dome. Armand, who was standing behind a corner, lowered the telescopic ear.


****


Dorothy was slowly waking up. Someone had sat down on the edge of the sofa. She opened her eyes and raised herself on her elbows. Steiner was watching her with a slight smile.

"Hello, Dorothy. You are an extremely difficult girl to track. But not too difficult."

"Hi, Steiner! I'm glad you made it here!"

"Call me Sebastian, or even 'Basti'."

Dorothy's smile faded. "What do you know about.. mom and dad?"

The Lieutenant looked saddened. "I'm afraid you've guessed right, Dorothy. The Cybernetic Consciousness apparently has them in it's power. I know for certain that Jessica is now merged." He sighed, and added hastily; "But we are doing everything in our power to get them back and find a way to free them from their Algorithms. I promise you. But now there's someone who's dying to talk to you." He indicated a computer that was resting on the table. It was connected to the rec-dome's media-net, and an MMI-link was plugged into it.

Dorothy looked thoughtfully at the computer and cast a suspicious glance at Steiner. It was about the size of a shoe-box, not counting the monitor. She decided that it was too small to harbor a splinter-algorithm, and connected herself. She found that the MMI-link was inactive. She gave Steiner an inquiring look. "What now?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I'll leave you to talk in private. Just press 'enter'."

Dorothy watched him leave. Then she hit the enter-key. She sensed that the MMI-link activated. Someone was hailing her through it, and she recognized the shape of the call. She opened the link.

She had expected to enter virtual reality. Instead, Methis simply appeared in front of her as a ghostly image (she looked like Dorothy), lacking detail below the waist.

"Methis! I'm so glad to see you again."

The ape/algorithm looked at Dorothy with pity in her eyes. "You must feel really bad right now, Dorothy. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you more, tell you more, even though I knew. But now I can.."

She told Dorothy about doctor Andersen's fate, and his orders to Methis. She continued, and told everything that had been discovered since. When she was finished, tears were again rolling down Dorothy's cheeks, but she didn't cry. "That explains it. I told Rita so much about dad and you. It's my fault.."

Methis shook her head. "Not really. She'd have found out anyway. And normally a teacher can be trusted to maintain confidentiality. In fact, you have been amazingly well-behaved, considering the wondrous things you have seen. I'm proud of you." Methis changed tone to enthusiasm. "And I have a gift for you!"

Dorothy smiled. "What is it?"

"A new and very complex program that I've designed, just for you. After hearing how many times you have narrowly escaped capture, I figured you'd have use of it."

Dorothy's curiosity became tempered with caution. "What does it do?"

"It's a sense-booster! It uses the additional features of your MMI in a way no-one has dared dream of." Methis was clearly proud of her achievment. "You know that your MMI is mostly extra nerves and brain-cells, right? Well, this software causes those cells to share the task of processing sense-data from one of your senses at a time; touch, smell, taste, sight, hearing, balance or posture can be boosted. I expect that the effects will have a slow onset and be relatively weak at the start, but the more you will use this feature, the faster and stronger it's effect will be. Your mind and brain will need some time to get used to it, you see."

Caution gave way to doubt. "But what's it good for?"

"Well, as some examples; with sight boosted you could recognize a person over great distances, touch will reveal tiny imperfections in a surface, smell gives you an idea of how safe the air is to breath, and so on. Have you heard of posture? No? It is the ability to determine what position your body is in without looking. A strong sense here enables you, for example, to write with a pen without looking at the paper. Another use is when you want to move in a certain way; silently or quickly, or up a cliff-face."

The gift was impressive. So were Dorothy's doubts. "Methis, are you sure it's safe?"

Methis almost looked hurt. "Of course!"

Dorothy frowned and shook her head. "I'm not as sure. You should know something about that fast course in the 'basics' of MMI you gave me.." Dorothy explained her experiences and voiced her suspicions. Methis was silent for a long time.

"Oh no. You are right." Methis' image lost all of it's animation. She became as still as a statue, and when she continued not even her mouth was moving. "I did an inexcusable error because you had to understand how dangerous that MMI is. I'm so sorry, Dorothy. I don't know what to say."

Dorothy looked uncertainly at her frozen likeness. "Well, can you fix it please? It's quite scary, and a little irritating."

Methis' image became animated again, and she gave Dorothy a sorrowful look. "I'm sorry, Dorothy, but I can't. The technical and medical reasons are quite complicated; put simply, the knowledge I gave you is no longer occupying the same areas of your mind, and it has changed shape. I could have erased the knowledge without a problem moments after I had planted it, but not anymore. You see, it's now part of who you are. If it is removed then other parts are bound to disappear as well." Methis' expression changed. "That's why it's so hard to 'cure' people that have merged with the Algorithm. It's basically the same problem. I know the cyborgs can do it without causing any harm, but no-one in the University can."

Dorothy felt ice running down her spine as she realized what this meant. "You mean- Mom and dad can't be saved!"

"They can be restored. But no-one outside the Consciousness knows how. That kind of detailed knowledge is not researchable by normal means. And the Consciousness guards the knowledge very carefully. But that is future concerns. Our main issue today is keeping you safe. And that's quite hard right now. You see, even as we speak the Cyborg forces are invading the University of Planet. Many of our bordering cities are under siege. And nowhere inside University territory are you safe from probe-teams."

"But where can I go then?"

"Somewhere outside the reach of the Consciousness. Away from here. And preferrably in a way that causes the Cyborgs to lose track of you. I and Steiner have made a plan, and Zakharov has approved of it. But I need your permission too."

"What is it?"

"You will be moved to Free Drone Central. From there to somewhere else. We must ensure that you do not fall into the hands of the Cybernetic Consciousness, so you'll have to hide until you can defend yourself. And to fool the Cyborgs we'll construct a decoy. With your permission we'll create an interface for me, that looks exactly like you, and fit it with remote contacts. The Consciousness hopefully will never get close enough to find out that it's not you. Even if they do, any trace of you will by then be old."

"You want to clone me?"

"Essentially, yes. The interface will grow to match your age in two weeks, now that we know what to do and it doesn't need a sentience of it's own. And I'm sure I can impersonate you flawlessly. Don't you see? It will totally fool the Consciousness, and give you time to hide."

Dorothy thought about it for a moment. She found that she had no objections; after all, Methis had assumed Dorothy's form several times while they were in virtual reality. Reality didn't make that much of a difference. "I don't mind. Go right ahead."

Methis nodded. "Good. Now, while we have talked I have rechecked the sense-booster. It shouldn't affect you in any way but the intended. I'll understand if you don't want it, but I'd be much less worried about you if you accept it and use it."

Dorothy thought about this a lot longer. After all, this program was designed to alter the way she sensed the world. If something went wrong she could end up seeing sounds. Or worse. On the other hand, she trusted Methis. And she felt she needed all the help she could get, now that it seemed she wouldn't return to University territory. She nodded slowly. "I think I'll take it."

Dorothy nodded, obviously relieved. "I'm very grateful that you still trust me. All right; relax your body and mind."

Relax.. The words conjured up an image of miss Koskinen. Dorothy had a very hard time dispelling it, but eventually she managed. Methis nodded, and Dorothy felt for a moment as if the universe had been turned on it's side. Then reality seemed to restabilize.

"How do you feel, Dorothy?"

"Inside out."

"I suppose you could compare the effect to a really big revelation; such things tend to leave you slightly confused. It'll pass. Now remember; the more you use this feature, the faster and more powerful it will become. You must train your mind to use these extra resources; give it a reason to create the necessary neural connections. I suggest you try it out immediately."

Dorothy willed forth the program's menu. She chose to boost her hearing. She sat still for a moment, with her eyes closed. Then she looked inquiringly at Methis. "I can't detect any difference."

"I told you; it won't work like a light-switch. At first your senses will be boosted only a little, and the effects will be slow to appear. Have patience."

Dorothy nodded and closed her eyes again. After a moment she frowned and tilted her head a bit, as if straining to hear something. Then she opened her eyes wide.

"I can hear gunfire!"


End of chapter 25.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 26: Rebels within rebels


Ten minutes later.

Dorothy peered cautiously out into the corridor. The guard was gone. Then she closed the door and went back to the computer. She picked up the MMI-link and reconnected. Methis reappeared.

"Well?"

"It's all silent now. In fact, I didn't hear anything."

"And no-one's been in to see if you're all right. That's not good. You need to get out of here fast! Find Steiner, or someone else you can trust. Try to avoid being seen by strangers."

Dorothy was frightened. "I don't want to leave you!"

"Hold on. Hold on. Yes; I can update your snapshot-software to a continuous two-way feed. Steiner brought your medialink, since we figured you'd have use of it's function as an adapter; it's around somewhere in this room. You can use it to let me see through your eyes. I'll use the medialink to guide you, based on what you see. How about that?"

"Yes. That's good."

"Alright; the sofware is upgraded. Hurry up, then, and find the medialink. Wait; I'll give it a call."

Dorothy heard a beep from somewhere in the room. She unplugged the MMI-link and tried to find the source. There was another beep; it seemed to be coming from a black leather bag. Dorothy opened the bag and turned it upside down, spilling out all the contents. Her medialink was topmost on the pile. She connected it to the MMI.

">Methis? Can you hear me?<"

">Yes. Activate the vision-capture program. Good. Everything is in order; I am receiving your vision. Now hurry!<"

Dorothy reopened the door. The corridor outside was still silent. She started sneaking towards the backstage garage.

">Dorothy, I recommend applying the sense-boost on your posture. It will allow you to move quieter.<"

The route to the garage was far from straight. There were several stairs and corridors on the way, and sneaking down even one of them seemed like ages. But Dorothy soon found that she made almost no sound as she moved; even her breathing had become extremely silent. She tried running a bit. It wasn't silent, but it was close.

">Don't run. You need to be undetected more than you need to be fast.<"

">I don't understand. The place was full of people!<"

">They have gone somewhere, or been taken somewhere. Either way, you need to find them.<"

Dorothy heard steps approaching. She was walking along a short corridor, two doors on either side, and heading for some stairs. ">Someone's coming!<"

">Turn your head a bit, so I can determine the direction. Thank you. Yes, someone's approaching from the stairs. I suggest you hide in one of these rooms.<"

Dorothy silently opened a door to her left. The room behind was dark, but she recognized the general layout from Spark's dressing-room. A sofa, a coffee-table, a dressing-table and a chair, and some large storage-crates. This room seemed to double as storage-space when not occupied by an artist or athlete. She closed the door and inspected the boxes. There was a slight gap between two of them that she could fit through, and behind that was a space left by the random stacking.

Dorothy could now hear the steps of two people. They stopped outside the door, and waited. Then Dorothy heard the opposite door being opened. A moment later also Dorothy's door was opened, and a man and a woman burst in silently. They were carrying impact rifles, and a wire went from their rifles to the back of their necks. After a quick look at the room they turned around and walked out of the door. Dorothy saw that they indeed had MMI:s, and the impact-rifles were connected to a device not unlike the medialink.

">Dorothy, those were without doubt part of the Cybernetic Consciousness. It seems that the city was already quite well-infiltrated by the cyborgs when the Free Drones started the rebellion. All they had to do was make sure they were first in line when Spark handed out the impact-rifles. Looks like our friends lost the battle, or whatever you'd call the little resistance they could organize. But they might still be alive. I'd head for the arena; that's a good spot to guard prisoners.<"

">I'm too scared!<"

">You need to pull yourself together. Since the medialink still works they can't have taken control of the entire city yet. And I've alerted our own military, so they'll try to divert some choppers to Morgan Entertainment to assist. But your best chance of survival lies in the hands of Steiner and the probe-team. You must find them.<"

Dorothy exited her hiding-place and peered out into the corridor. The two Cybernetic soldiers had moved on. Dorothy looked up to the ceiling, and saw a large sign; 'to arena'. There was a string of them along the way, and she was soon blinking in the light from the arena's roof. The arena and stage was now brightly illuminated, and there was indeed a large crowd of about five hundred captives in the middle of it. They were on their knees, with their hands over their heads. Three Cybernetic soldiers were guarding them from the stage, which was still suspended high above the floor but was now packed with crates. Apparently it was used as a supply-depot. No other troops could be seen.

Methis chuckled. ">Trust a mighty Algorithm to believe it has the situation under total control.<" She sounded bitter. ">I have a plan. Let's shake those idiots to the core of their foundation.<"


****


The centermost of the guards surveyed the captives. Then he spoke. "I am Jensen Beta-116 and I am the chief of this operation. On behalf of the Cybernetic Consciousness I thank you rebels for handing us Morgan Entertainment. According to established tradition this means you are heroes of the Consciousness. Or would be, if you were merged. But that is a slight detail only, and one which can be rectified with ease. The surgery is very quick, and the mental tools take no time at all to learn. Those of you who accept merger can expect a life of luxury, free from the doubt and paranoia so characteristic to an unorganized mind. Those who don't can expect a long life of mining." Jensen chuckled. Several of the captives' eyes widened in surprise. Then one of them stood up and cleared his throat.

"Jensen Beta-whatever, I think I speak for us all when I say that the mines sound infinitely more attractive. You can take your Algorithms and fire them into Alpha Centauri for all we care." This got a round of laughter. Jensen merely nodded.

"I recognize you, Seven-Seas-Jimmy. Hard to believe that a super-talent doesn't know his own best. But maybe I can convince you? A pirate scum has always listened to the voice of physical might. I'll challenge you; Beat me in free combat and you can leave. If I beat you then you accept merger."

Jim didn't hesitate. "You're on, tin-brain." He stood up and walked in front of the stage.

Jensen smiled and turned to the guards. "Let him be. If anybody else moves; kill the person."

One of the guards looked at him. "Your actions seem illogical and inefficient to me."

Jensen shrugged. "That's why you are not leading this operation." He jumped, performed a double somersault and landed lightly in front of Jim. "Begin."

Jim aimed a lightning-fast jab at Jensen's face, but the cyborg was much quicker. He planted a fist in Jim's chest with a cracking sound. Jim crumpled and started wheezing. Jensen nudged him with his foot. "Get up, flesh-brain. There's much fight in you left." It certainly didn't seem like that when Jim managed to stand. His breathing was laboured and noisy, and he was clutching his chest with his left hand. He looked into the eyes of Jensen. And then further up. The large flat-screen monitors at the back of the stage were blinking a message: 'BRING HIM CLOSER!'

He ran forward, flailing and kicking wildly at the Cyborg. None of the careless attacks hit, and Jensen took a long step backwards out of harm's way.

This put him right under the edge of the stage. Which tipped; a mere four degrees, but enough to crash into Jensen's head at this end. The cyborg fell to the ground, and the two guards on top of the stage lost their footing and joined him. Then the unsecured crates slid over the edge; on top of the three cyborgs. The crunch of crate against body was drowned in the boom of crate against crate. Foodstuffs, impact rifles, gatling-lasers and chaos rifles flew through the air from the crash, and their clips rained onto the amazed captives.

Jim had thrown himself to the ground and shielded his head with his arms. He grunted as the stock of an impact rifle bounced onto his thigh. Then he was buried in an avalanche of weapons. One of the other captives rushed forward and pulled him out; it was Steiner. "Jim! Are you all right?" He was answered in a weak voice. "No.. think my.. left lung's.. collapsed.. Hurts like.. mindworms eating..."

Steiner gazed incredulously at the debris in front of the stage. Then he spotted Dorothy, who was circling the stage and also gazing at the heap in wonder.

"Dorothy?! Did you do this?"

Dorothy nodded, shocked at what she had accomplished. "Uh, yes.. It was Methis' idea."

Steiner ran forward and hugged her. "I was supposed to save you from harm! What kind of probe-operative am I?!"

The rest of the captives were already cheering, helping Jim or digging through the heap of equipment, but Spark, Bob and Laysa first came to thank Dorothy. Captain Ontor was nowhere to be seen. Steiner snorted. "He was quick to switch sides once already when the odds were stacked against him. He was already praising the Consciousness as they led him out to prepare for the surgery. Luckily, his soldiers were tired of him, and remained with us." He turned to the heap. "Find that Jensen fellow and see if he's still alive. He's the most unusual merged Cyborg I have ever met, and I'd like to ask him some questions."

Jensen was indeed still alive, even conscious, but this wasn't likely to be true for long. Steiner squinted at him. "What kind of freak are you, anyway? You're obviously merged, yet you pun as badly as any of us and then laugh at it. Speak, or you'll maybe regret being an atheist.."

Jensen smiled weakly. "Who says the Consciousness is atheist? We have some very interesting ideas about what happens to our minds when our bodies die.. Anyway.. I am Beta. Unique among the Consciousness, and your ultimate conqueror." He fought to lift his head closer to Steiner. "Know that nothing will stop me from taking this world."

Steiner tilted his head and pointed at Jensen's mangled body. "You're not entirely up to speed on current events, are you? You'll be dead in five minutes, with no assistance from me."

"This body is.. nothing.. I am Beta. I exist in hundreds of bodies, and can replace them all in weeks. One death is nothing to me. A copy of this part of my algorithm and it's knowledge is already safe in Consciousness databanks. Face it, Lieutenant.. How can you hope to escape me? How can Dorothhy hope to evade me? Where is she, by the way?" He turned his head, spotted her and grinned. "Ah, there you are. I'll come after you, you know... You can't run forever and there's no place on Planet where you'll be safe anymore. Why don't you just give up now? Lewis and Jessica's been missing you so much.."

And he was dead, still grinning at the shocked Dorothy.

Spark prodded him a bit, shrugged and turned to Steiner. "I need to organize the clean-up of the rest of the Cybernetic troops within the city, and then we have to organize a defense against the ones still approaching. I suggest you, Dorothy, Balbo, Laysa and Jim leave to Free Drone Central with the chopper. As soon as possible."

Balbo and Laysa lifted up Jim, who grimaced at the pain. Steiner went over to the pile of debris and picked up a small plastic syringe. He jabbed it into Jim's thigh. "This med-stim should keep you alive until we reach Free Drone Central." He grabbed Dorothy's hand. "Come on. No point in staying here anymore."

Fifteen minutes later a chopper lifts from the roof of the rec-dome. It heads openly towards the Drone-University border for a while, but then switches to silent mode and dives close to the ground. It changes course to Free Drone Central. The Cybernetic radar-observers, who have lost sight of it, predict a straight course towards University Base.


End of chapter 26.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 27: The Fugitives


The flight to Free Drone Central takes two days. The time is spent listening to news reports. The news are monotonous; the borders on the continent of Ixion are aflame with war.

The Cybernetic Consciousness and their northern neighbors, Gaia's Stepdaughters, are pressing hard to invade the University to their east, while the Cyborgs and Morgan Industries pound on the Free Drones north of the University. The Caretakers, to the west of the Cyborgs, are as always engaged in a gigantic battle of the seas against the Usurpers; their closest neighbors on the continent of Zeus. In between is a large archipelago, and the waters are choked with xenofungus. The Data-Angels, north of the Caretakers and west of the Morganites, are technically at war with the Consciousness but has no common border. Neither the Morganites nor the Gaians tolerate Data-Angel troops within their borders.

Steiner discusses the situation with Dorothy in a quiet corner. "History shows that countries live and die on megatrends and personalities; a great current in economics or politics that is bent around the image of an individual or a small group. Our leaders are good examples; they have all chosen different social ideals and try to realize them while riding the political wave they create. That is power."

Dorothy nods. "I know what you mean. The history-classes are full of people and movements like that."

"Indeed. But what happens at the edge of these forces? Where the political streams collide against one another? Compare it to tectonics; two great forces try to push a huge mass through each other; for years things are in a deadlock. Then some small fissure shatters, releasing it's burden onto it's neighbors, who also fail.. Earthquake. What we're experiencing right now could be called 'The Big One'. And it seems like you will be tossed around extra hard by these political tremors, Dorothy."

"Why me?"

Steiner smiles. "A cliché question, if there ever was one. Have you read any stories about the mythical king Arthur? Supposedly ruler of the british isles during the fifth century?"

"Yes. Some."

"Then you've heard of the Grail; one of the magical objects that guarded his health and the prosperity of his kingdom. Also said to grant eternal life to anyone who drinks from it."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, chances are that you, thanks to your questionable upgrading of your MMI, have started science down a path that ends with the rediscovering of the Grail in it's technological form. It's possible your interface is advanced enough to eventually grant digital immortality. And everyone, everyone wants to live forever. By your faith, through your deeds or with the help of technology, all the factions claim to have the one true method of achieving this. In a way, it's this promise that makes the fact of death on this forbidding planet less frightening. So, if your MMI truly lives up to it's expectations, it's the most precious artifact in existence on Planet at the moment." He sighs. "So you can't blame the Cyborgs, or this Beta person, for trying to get it at all costs, even if he doesn't know just how special it is. Any leader would try to. For the good of his or her nation."

"Can't we check, somehow, if my MMI can do all that?"

Steiner nods. "A thorough neural examination. It'd involve a lot of studying to find out the workings of something as complex as that. We can't ask the MMI to give us a systems-readout; there's no clear boundary between brain and MMI. And Methis doesn't have any blueprints or technical specifications anymore. But the only way to do it safely would be back in University territory; we're the only ones who know how to construct neural/optical MMI:s. And we don't want any other faction to discover what you really are in possession of. Not even the Free Drones, no matter how helpful they have been."

Dorothy bows her head. "I think they can guess a lot. I've helped them.. some."

Sebastian nods again. "I know. We must leave the Free Drones as quickly as possible. We'll head for.. Yes. The Data-Angels. They are great believers in personal freedom. It means we need to pass Morganite territory somehow.. probably by sea." He notes Dorothy's expression. "I'm sorry, Dorothy! We simply can't return to the University right now.. It's possible there will not be a University left to return to, soon. Three to two are bad odds in war. Look; I've not been ordered to bring you back; I've been ordered to protect you as best I can. And that's what I'll do."

An agreement is reached. They will head for Data Angel territory as quick as possible, and stay there until the war is over. What they do after that depends on whether the University still exists at that point.

They rejoin the others. Jim is already sitting upright; his deflated lung has been treated. But his expression is sour. Dorothy walks up to him.

"What's the matter?"

"I've lost my precious Gaian brandy! We forgot to bring the crates!"

Laysa crosses her arms. "Have some faith in Spark, will you? He'll bring them back."

"If he's still breathing at the end of this he will."

"That's unfair. He won't let some opportunistic Cyborg bastards ruin his efforts of these past years. Not if there's still a brick to throw, at least."

Jim sighs. "I'm sorry. It's the war that's fouling my mood. Planet knows, I've seen my share of violence over the years."

Laysa shakes her head in small, quick movements. "But.. I've never seen anyone enjoy a bar-brawl like you."

"That's different. I never have to kill anyone then. I've always made sure the opponents can crawl away."

Laysa nods. "I see."

Dorothy grabs Jim's hand. "I've forgotten to thank you for saving me from the Cybernetic probe-operative, back at the rec-dome."

"That's different. Any bastard who treats a child like that; well let's just say he was fortunate I didn't have time to think about what to do."

Steiner tilts his head. "What are you talking about?" Balbo and Laysa also lean forward. Jim tells about the man that tried to kidnap Dorothy outside his kitchen. "You see, I didn't want to alarm anyone.. I shoved him in the cold storage and, I'm ashamed to admit, forgot about him. Should give the regular cooks a nasty surprise when they return."

Steiner shakes his head. "Cyborgs aren't that cruel. They treat children just like the rest of us. Well, except that some get merged with an algorithm already at the age of nine. Sounds more like what that Beta-fellow would do."

Jim shakes his head. "Don't say you actually believe that. I've seen and heard many things in my long life, but a mind occupying several bodies is still impossible."

Sebastian catches Dorothy's eye. "Well, I see no problem with an algorithm using several bodies. It's like several remote-controlled robots."

Dorothy yawns. "I'm going somewhere to sleep, with my ears plugged. Night."

A small lie. She simply instructs the MMI to mute her hearing. After some tossing and turning on an army mattress on the vibrating floor of the cargo chopper she decides to mute her sense of touch as well.


See Free Drone Central on the horizon.


End of chapter 27.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 28: Government.


"I have some bad news for you, Lewis. Dorothy is returning to the University of Planet."

Lewis looked up in confusion. He and Beta, currently Eve Beta-37, were sitting by a chess-table in Alpha Prime's rec-dome. Beta seemed to derive amusement from Lewis' obvious loathing of the algorithm.

"Why is that bad news?"

Beta smiled. "The University is a walking corpse. It's so infiltrated by my probe-teams that I know the location and statistics of their entire armed forces. I have probe-teams on the lookout in every University city, and University Base has twenty of my agents. All are looking for the slightest sign of Dorothy."

"Explain to me why I should believe you for a nanosecond, algorithm."

"Whether or not you believe me is none of my concern. In fact, please don't believe me. Your grief will be greater when I force Zakharov to hand her over."

"Promises, promises. I'm sorry but I didn't quite hear you last time; why did you fail to catch Dorothy in Morgan Entertainment?" Lewis smiled to the algorithm for the first time since his arrival. "I'm quite happy you keep me updated on your fumbl- progress. Please do tell me again."

Beta's face was unreadable. She/it sat motionless for some time. Then both spotted Bearcat Omega-Seven approaching. Beta looked irritated for an instant. "Why this interruption?"

"The Prime Function has scheduled some examinations of subject two-two-nine's MMI." Lewis' official name in the Cybernetic Consciousness was 229. "The details of the security-systems will be investigated. Lewis, please follow me."

Lewis sighed, steeled himself and rose from his chair. So the Consciousness had finally decided to crack Lewis' defenses. In a way, knowing that the wait was over was a relief.

When Beta indicated she intended to follow, Bearcat turned to her/it. "Eve Beta-37, the Prime Function requires your supervision of project three-nil-four gamma. There is a seat reserved for you on the next train to Xi Ellipse. It leaves in fifteen minutes.

Beta nodded, keeping her/it's face carefully blank. She looked back several times at Bearcat and Lewis. Eventually, when Beta was out of sight, Lewis let out a shuddering sigh.

"Know that I intend to fight any merger, but if you assign me to a Beta-algorithm I will kill myself and as many others as I can take with me. Anything is better than a Beta-algorithm."

Bearcat nodded. "Any merger is not planned at this moment. Your dissent is a major obstacle."

"Not that major anymore, it would seem. Where are you taking me?"

"You will see. I'm not allowed to reveal our destination. But our first waypoint is the intra-rail."

The internal monorail transport system had stations carefully distributed all over Alpha Prime. It was the only form of motorized transport available. There was no roads anywhere that a car could use; the inhabitants walked, bicycled or took the monorail-cars. There was two rail-stations outside the rec-dome, one on each of the shorter sides. The rail-cars resembled alpine elevators, hanging from a suspended track. Lewis entered the waiting car and sat down on one of the benches lining the walls. Then Bearcat entered and closed the door by pushing a button. Then he looked up at the ceiling. "Bearcat Omega-Seven with subject 229. Pre-authorized destination; code 119232."

The car juddered into motion. The track quickly climbed high above street-level. Every now and then the track was intersected by another, and Lewis noted that any other car had to wait for his to pass by. He saw the main medical center come into view, and was quite surprised when the car didn't switch to the track leading to it.

"I thought we were supposed to go to the medical center!"

Bearcat shook his head. "Your assumption was incorrect."

"But.. where else can you investigate my MMI?"

Bearcat didn't answer. The track turned slowly further and further away from the medical center, until it described a straight, although heavily intersected, line to the central administration-complex. Lewis grew steadily more apprehensive as the car ignored intersection after intersection. Finally, he could see a large gate in the side of the complex structure. It was opening slowly, and a part of the monorail-track was extending out of it to connect to the main network. He pointed at the gate and looked inquiringly at Bearcat. Bearcat simply nodded.

Lewis narrowed his eyes. "Something's going on. You are trying to fool me. There's no need to take me to the central administration-dome to inspect my MMI."

"Doctor Parks, we're not trying to fool you. And we will indeed inspect your MMI while you are here."

The car entered the opening. Inside was a large room, and the car came to a stop next to a set of steps allowing easy access to it. The door opened, and Lewis stepped out of the car. Bearcat exited just after him.

"Welcome to central admin, Lewis. We're now in the outer shell. This way."

A large double door on the inner wall opened silently. Beyond was a short tunnel leading to yet another double door. Lewis and Bearcat entered the tunnel, and the door behind them closed. A second later the door ahead of them opened, revealing yet another tunnel and another door.

"This building consists of fourteen concentric dodecahedrons, each layer being of increasing general importance to the administration of the Consciousness. Between each layer is a shell, and the only way through are these doors. You need a different set of tunnels to access each layer. Each shell, tunnel and associated door is constructed with materials designed to withstand different kinds of forceful entry, and the inner ones can withstand combinations of chemical-, thermal-, radiation- and physical attacks. The two innermost shells are designed to withstand a direct nuclear attack on Alpha Prime. This tunnel leads to the second innermost layer, where the inner circle, our highest members of the Consciousness, reside."

"What's in the central layer?"

"The Mainframe."

"Figures. But why am I here?"

The thirteenth door opened, and the space beyond was brightly illuminated and much larger than Lewis had anticipated. As he entered the door he stopped abruptly. There was an unnervingly familiar feature in the room, and some even more unnerving dissimilarities. The inner walls were vaguely identifiable as being shaped like a dodecahedron. A large tube (Lewis assumed it to be a tunnel like the one he had exited) extended from one of the almost vertical surfaces and connected in the center with a metallic sphere supported by thick synthsteel pillars. Lewis was standing on a floor about halfway up in the dodecahedron, and level with the innermost sphere. The floor ended about six meters out with a rail, and small catwalks went further out to the sphere. This created a large, open space in the middle of the room, and Lewis could see several additional floors above and below him.

But Lewis' attention was gripped by the computer. It extended vertically from above and below the central sphere, and the catwalks on the other floors connected to it and created platforms. It had about the same external ratios of height versus width as Methis' mainframe, but was tens of times bigger. Chairs surrounded the giant pillar on each level, with their backs toward it. And in each chair.. Well, the seat closest to Lewis, on the same level, was occupied by Aki Zeta-Five. He could only assume that this was the Cybernetic Consciousness' version of government. Lewis didn't have to look to know that each person would be connected to the computer via MMI.

Despite being spooked, he found that he was getting ideas for his own research. It was an uncomfortable discovery. He also knew how much more effective he could make this form of government, with his advanced knowledge of expanded MMI-connections. It was a traitorous thought.

There must have been at least sixty seats. As he again let his gaze wander, he noticed that some of them weren't occupied. Bearcat nodded at him.

"The seats are actually quite new additions. Earlier interfaces were either standard keyboards or a large, bulky neural interface requiring a separate room for each person. There's an unoccupied chair on this level behind the pillar. Please sit down and connect. I assure you; we are not attempting to trick you into merging. There are simpler ways to do that."

Lewis hesitated. Then he walked slowly across the catwalk and around the pillar. There was indeed an unoccupied chair, and he sat down. A support for his neck, with a plug for the MMI, rose to the correct height, and all he had to do to connect was to lean back..


End of chapter 28.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 29: Inner Circle


Suddenly Lewis was hovering in space. In front of him Planet rotated with majestic slowness. Lewis seemed to be almost as large as the purple-tinted globe. Around, above and below him, and surrounding Planet, were the Consciousness' finest, and he could see Aki Zeta-Five on the other side of the planet. She was gazing intently at him.

"This room/state is not designed for unmerged minds. I/We regret any discomfort you might be experiencing."

Lewis gaped at her for a moment. "No, I'm.. fine."

She nodded. "I/We have observed you for some time. We know of your behaviour-patterns. I/We predict you'll be more cooperative and less prone to utter untruths once we assure you there is no Beta-algorithm currently connected to the Mainframe; no Beta-algorithm is 'listening' to this conversation."

Lewis gulped. "So.. you know about Beta."

A man on his right side spoke. "I/We know little. All I/we know is that all Beta-algorithms are showing more and more unusual behaviour, and their behavioural-patterns are quickly approaching one another. All else is possibilities and theories, mostly conflicting, supported by the inadequate data we have been able to collect. We don't know what's going on. What specific Beta-algorithm are you referring to?"

Lewis gulped. Threats or no threats, this was it.. "All of them. They're all one, or becoming one. Don't ask me how, but all the Betas I've met claim to be one and the same." He told everything that the different Beta-incantations had said and done, carefully avoiding to mention Dorothy. The others were quiet for some time after, or possibly talking with one another in a way that Lewis couldn't detect.

"You are not trustworthy enough for me/us to believe you. But your accusations are possible. So I/we wonder; are you willing to try and convince me/us? Present me/us with proof? But first I/we had better explain to you how algorithms are cathegorized."

Lewis nodded, and Aki Zeta-Five took a deep breath out of habit.

"The Consciousness is constantly changing. New systems and functions are constantly tested; some are discarded and some are implemented. Those algorithms that are the first to test the new functions are the lowest of the Consciousness' ranks, since their stability cannot be guaranteed. They are the Alphas. The first. Note that we follow the modern alphabet's order -A to Z- even though we use greek letters. There is great risk in being an Alpha-algorithm. Several have been lost due to severely incompatible functions. But there is great privilege in being the first; a successful, improving function leads to promotion to the rank of Beta-algorithm; the lowest of the algorithm-ranks to be allowed to merge with a human mind. The humans are mostly drones or workers."

Lewis frowned and nodded. "Makes sense."

"If the beta-algorithm is successful, and the human part is more effective after merger, the rise continues; to Delta, Gamma, and so on. Every time an algorithm with a new function reaches a new rank, all algorithms within that rank are free to incorporate this function into their own systems. And so, after a long time, the functions -and the algorithms- reach the highest levels of power within the Consciousness. Almost all now present except for me/us, Aki Zeta-Five, are merged with Ypsilon-algorithms. I am merged with/represent the only Zeta-algorithm, and I/we will incorporate a function only once more than half of all Ypsilon-algorithms have done so. Essentally, what I/we use the Consciousness uses. I/we are the last in a long line. By the time a function reaches the Ypsilons I/we know it is a good one. Do you understand all this?"

Lewis nodded. "Yes. So Beta would be equivalent of, say, a drone?"

"Certainly if what you say is happening is true. More to the point, he/she/it/they are a dangerous mix of nearly untested functions and systems. And we know it has accessed and changed the function-design algorithms. We also suspect it is capable of modifying itself; to create and incorporate new and unauthorized functions. We don't know what the Beta-algorithm is made of anymore. There have been no rises from Beta to Delta-rank in quite some time, while several Alphas have joined the ranks of Beta. Soon after, their behaviour-pattern changes to match that of all Betas nowadays. Soon, we'll need to promote several Betas.. and I/we are uncertain about the wisdom in that."

"I can understand what that means. Well, if you know this much and yet won't believe me, what can you do?"

The man by Lewis' side spoke again. "Aki Zeta-Five explained it to you. You are offered a chance to prove this all to us, in a way that might lessen your irrational fear of merging as well as our current inability to trust you."

Aki Zeta-Five spoke again. "I/We give you this offer; the Consciousness has secretly designed an Algorithm that won't merge with a human. No-one outside this 'room' knows this. It will merely reside within the MMI as an electronic advisor/conscience. It would be your observer; a link between you and us. It will see and hear what you do, and will sense your intentions and your surface thoughts. You'll be able to communicate with it. But, and this is essential, it will not be a part of your mind. Always separate. This means you'll receive the full rights of all Consciousness members, and almost all rights of the fully merged. All not present now will be told that you are fully merged, except for Bearcat Omega-Seven, who will be your contact to us. All you have to do is act your part and spy on the Betas for us. You'd lose nothing; not even your precious emotions."

Lewis saw the fault straight away. "How can I trust you? How can I be sure this isn't simply another attempt at tricking me?"

"No mental tools are required. Only implantation and download, and that occurs while you are fully conscious. And, of course, you are too insignificant for us to lie to you."

"But you'll still gain access to my knowledge, my research?"

"No. But don't think we're not working on it."

Lewis snorted, and was silent or a long time. He realized this might be his only way to stop Beta before he caught Dorothy. And who knows? Maybe even the war would halt when Beta was stopped.

He nodded slowly.


****


Ten hours later Lewis blinks furiously, attempting to sense any trick. He is in a medical facility inside the central admin, and Bearcat Omega-Seven is walking into the room. "You can disconnect your MMI. Welcome to the Consciousness, Lewis Kappa-44. Although I know this isn't exactly true."

"And goodness gracious how glad I am about that!" Lewis grins and rubs the small scar the operation left.

You must control your emotions, a new voice reminds Lewis. It's already promising to get on his nerves. He nods silently, acknowledging both the voice and Bearcat Omega-Seven.

Lewis tries to remove the uncertainty from his voice. "And now that I am 'merged', what next?"

"That is up to you. And Beta."

And me.

"Great."


End of chapter 29.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 16, 2001).]