The Wizard of Chiron

[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).]