Complete Atopia Chronicles (52 page)

“It is possible to navigate the fate of one individual,” I explained, “but the combined fate of billions gains momentum like a supertanker on the open ocean. With more than ten billion people on the planet, and all of them craving material luxury, there just aren’t enough resources to sustain it all, so, we fight for what’s left.”

“So it all ends in apocalypse?” he asked, shaking his head. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, you’re absolutely right.”

I spun our viewpoint even further back, splintering billions of worlds into Bob’s sensory frames.

“In most scenarios, in almost all of them, we actually manage to avoid full blown Armageddon.”

Apocalypse wasn’t the worst fate for humans, and in fact a quick end would have been a blessing when faced with the majority of outcomes—a long, slow grind downwards; shifting populations as the Earth continued to heat, eco-system collapses, famine, pestilence, unending series of wars and genocides.

Over the next fifty years, the human population would drop from nearly ten billion to just a few. It had already started happening. I didn’t need to explain. Bob’s networks assimilated the information and data sets I sent to him.

“But surely,” he said quietly, “there must be something we could do?”

I shook my head.

“I was a part of the team that created the first World3 simulations at MIT in the mid-1970’s. We’ve been able to see this coming for a long time.”

I opened up another data channel to Bob. This one contained my personal, updated WorldX models. It was hundreds of thousands of nodes in hyper-dimensional space, connecting everything from rates of persistent pollution to land fertility and their relationships to policy implementation, industrial output and more. Graphs illustrating humanity’s climb along the pollution, population, energy consumption and other curves glowed in the foreground.

“For the last eighty years, this model has been almost perfectly predicting humanity’s path forward,” I explained, “and there is no soft landing for human population. Or at least, the soft landings that could have existed would have required threading the eye of a needle.”

I waited while Bob took it all in.

“Not that we didn’t try,” I sighed. “The same phuture spoofing technology we have hunting Vince down was one that I developed to try and nudge the timeline back and forth.”

“So you’ve been manipulating the world as well,” said Bob quietly, but he wasn’t angry anymore.

“Yes, but too little, too late. As we built Atopia, we tried countless combinations of events. In the end, no matter which way we twisted or turned, eventually billions of humans would have to perish for the planet to rebalance itself.”

I paused again.

“The only possibility left through the eye of the needle required a drastic reduction in global material consumption. The only way to do this was to send most of the population off into synthetic reality, and we had to do it quickly. Fertility rates need to plummet to nearly zero. When we understood this, the fledgling pssi program transformed itself from a commercial endeavor into a project of destiny.”

I’d returned us back to my office now. Bob was pacing back and forth in front of me.

“But we had to hide what we were doing to keep some stability along the main timeline,” I added. “Otherwise everyone would have tried to stop us.”

“Don’t tell me you were the only ones who could see this,” demanded Bob.

“Of course not,” I sighed, shaking my head. “Governments have been using futuring of one sort or another for a long time, but they’re always plotting paths forward to maximize their own benefit. A giant game of prisoners’ dilemma gone wrong.”

“And here you have the magical solution that just coincidentally maximizes your own benefit?” he shot back mockingly. “You want me to believe Kesselring and Dr. Granger are just in this to save the planet?”

I shook my head and shrugged.

“What about the United Nations then? What about everyone else?”

“International agencies have been preaching disaster for most of the last hundred years. Nobody is listening.”

“Why not just tell them yourself then?”

“Tell everyone the world is going to end—so buy my product?” I laughed. “If we truly convinced them the world was on the brink of apocalypse, we would have induced mass hysteria.”

A pause while we considered each other.

“These things happened in parallel, Bob, you have to understand. As the options collapsed, we were running the clinical trials. It became obvious we had to suppress some of the results to keep on track with regulatory approval.”

“Don’t you think it’s wrong to lie to everyone?”

I laughed.

“We didn’t lie to anyone. We just didn’t reveal the full truth. People have an amazing capacity for believing what they want to believe while ignoring the obvious.” At least this was the truth.

“And so the plan is to hook billions of people on virtual crack,” Bob said sarcastically, cocking his head at me, “with you as the only supplier. How convenient.”

I was getting tired of defending myself.

“We’re just giving people what they want, aren’t we? People have always wanted to work less, to travel more, to fuck someone new and exciting every day.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re giving them exactly what they’ve always wanted, the unlimited ability to do anything, and to be healthier and live longer while doing it.”

Bob said nothing, staring at me in stony silence.

“Do people really want to make the world a better place?” I asked. “Or do they just want to make a better place for themselves within it? Almost everything humans do is self-serving in the end.”

“I thought you taught us,” objected Bob, “that humans were successful because they’d developed an evolutionary instinct for trust that outstripped selfishness?”

“People have a responsibility to find their own happiness, don’t they? Life only has the meaning that you give it, right Bob?” I mocked, knowing this was his own mantra. I was cynical now. “We’re just giving people the tools to find their own happiness, in whatever way they choose, and in the process saving untold billions of lives. So, what was the right thing to do?”

“Now you sound like Dr. Granger.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, slowly. Painfully.

“If Atopia is destroyed, billions will die.”

26

Identity: Jimmy Jones

THE MOMENT OF truth had arrived.

We were watching projections of the two converging storms, overlaid with a glowing array of plotted future paths of Atopia through them. The phutures were stabilizing as we approached time zero. Everything was coming together and I readied to power up our weapons systems.

“Thanks for everything,” said Rick as we waited in the final moments. “Whatever happens, I wanted to thank you for trying to help with Cindy.”

I looked at him. How quickly our roles had reversed. He was pathetic now.

“Of course, Commander,” I said to him. “We’ll find her, get her out somehow.”

He nodded, his slightly bloodshot eyes holding my gaze for a moment. He smelled of alcohol.

“You ready for this?” he asked, watching the display.

“As I’ll ever be.” The high altitude displays of the storms had a mesmerizing, hypnotic effect. They centered on the pulsing orb of Atopia highlighted near their convergence point. We would only have a window of a few minutes to get this right.

The room was deadly quiet as we sat and watched the storm systems engulf the entire volume of the room. They were all waiting on me. I looked up at Kesselring, Rick, and then at Marie. Patricia hadn’t shown up in person, but I knew she was watching through her proxxi.

“On my command, power up the weapons systems,” I instructed, waiting, feeling for just the right moment as I fed the information flowing in through my extrasensory splinter network. I could feel the winds ripping at the surface of Atopia, the forests heaving and tearing, the waves pounding against her hull.

“On my mark,” I said, raising my hand. “Five…four…three…”

Everyone held their collective breath.

I waited.

Something held me back—something inside me. Someone inside me.

I continued to wait, trying to understand what was going on. Interminable seconds ticked by. Then I understood. It had been sitting there in front of me all the time, but I just hadn’t been able to see it.

Until now.

“For God’s sake Jimmy!” screamed Kesselring. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

27

Identity: Patricia Killiam

“WHAT THE HELL is he doing?”

Bob stopped his pacing and looked at me. He didn’t have access to Command and couldn’t see what I saw now. Jimmy was standing motionless as critical seconds slipped by. We all watched in disbelief while Kesselring roared at him again.

“Bob, I need to go,” I said without waiting to discuss, leaving behind a tiny splinter while I snapped my main subjective into Marie’s body at Command.

Everyone in the room was frozen, all except Kesselring who had crossed the room and was standing in front of Jimmy now, holding his shoulders and shaking him. Jimmy didn’t even look like he was there. I strode over and pulled Kesselring away.

“Jimmy!” I yelled, looking directly into his slack face. The window of opportunity was closing fast.

At that moment his face came back to life, his eyes flashing as he turned to look at me, but what he said next stunned the room even more.

“Power down all weapons systems immediately!” he ordered. “And shut down the propulsion systems!”

“Belay that!” I yelled back, pinning the system technicians in place with my phantoms.

Everyone else stood by hopelessly, watching the two of us. I reached into the Command network with my other phantoms and tried to gain control of the systems as he blocked them.

My mind raced. The Terra Novans had gotten to him somehow. We had ceded enormous power to Jimmy for this operation, and I now realized that perhaps we’d put all our eggs into one basket. Furiously, my mind splintered into hundreds of shards that shot straight at Jimmy’s command and control structure in the multiverse worlds spreading out from Command.

I could feel Kesselring joining me, but he hadn’t the power in these worlds that I had.

Desperately, I quickened my mind and began launching thousands and then millions of attacks and feints and counterattacks at his cyber defenses, projecting millisecond phutures as I tried to find any weaknesses to exploit. The milliseconds became seconds, the window to save Atopia was closing.

“Stop this!” I screamed at him.

“Stand down, Patricia, I’m warning you!” he yelled back.

Desperately we grappled with each other, and then everything went white in a blinding flash of pain.

As my mind reassembled itself and my senses and metasenses slowly reintegrated, one by one, the world slowly came back into focus. My ears were ringing, and I was sitting on the floor. Everyone in the room looked stunned. What the hell was that?

Jimmy was looking at me calmly. The point of no return had passed. Atopia was sitting motionless, a sitting duck, doomed.

“Do not touch anything,” said Jimmy finally. “Everything is under control.”

28

Identity: Bobby Baxter

THE WORLD STOOD transfixed by the scene. Jimmy had begun broadcasting the scene direct from Command and into the mediaworlds at large. An audience of billions had already been tuned in to the drama of the destruction of Atopia, but not for the reason we thought.

Jimmy stood, his calm and resolute image hanging over the bewildered and powerless Patricia Killiam in the holoscreens and lens displays of the world as they watched.

“General McInnis,” called out Jimmy, straightening up, “we’ve powered down all systems and we will sequence down our fusion core at your request. I have opened all command and control functions to you. Please acknowledge.”

There was a moment of silence before General McInnis’ voice responded, “Goddamn boy, acknowledged. What the hell…”

“Please General,” interrupted Jimmy, “please stand down.”

The General’s image was now projected into Command. He just stood there, not sure what to say as he scratched his head.

“You kids sure have some explaining to do.”

One by one, surprised and shocked expressions clicked through the other faces in Command, and I wondered what was happening until suddenly it happened to me too.

The storms were gone.

I spun out from Patricia’s office to click into my splinters arrayed out around Atopia and it was all the same—blue skies, calm seas, the coast of America sitting serenely on the horizon. 

The F35s were buzzing angrily around in the skies in tight orbits, watching us carefully as navy destroyers ringed us further out, with their weapons armed and pointing at us.

“We were just about to blow you out of existence, son,” said the General after another moment.

It all became clear. As Jimmy released information, the mediaworlds began to buzz and then roar with stories. The citizens of Atopia had been infected with a group-synthesizing reality skin. While we had driven Atopia into the coast of America, in our minds trying to save ourselves from non-existent storms projected from an infected reality skin, the rest of the world had watched in puzzlement and amazement.

Atopia had at first inexplicably breached American territorial waters, and then had begun furiously shipping off non–nationals via its passenger cannon. Amid confusing and contradictory stories, Atopia had stowed and locked itself down, cut off all communications as it approached land, and then begun powering up its fearsome weapons systems. America had no choice but to prepare to defend itself.

If we’d powered up the slingshot and mass driver, America had its finger on the trigger to unleash a hailstorm of tactical nuclear weapons to destroy us, an attack that even we couldn’t have repelled.