Cyberdrome (35 page)

“In time for
what?” Alek asked. He stepped to Maya’s other side casually breaking the grip
his father had on his arm.

Maya was more forceful.
She pushed his father’s hand away from her and took a step closer to Alek.
“Don’t listen to him,” she said, “He’s not real. Ceejer is playing some sort of
game with us.”

“Oh, I can
assure you that I’m quite real, Maya,” Mathew said with a wide grin. “At least
in the context of our current understanding of what defines reality in this
world we have created.”

“I saw your
body...” Alek began, his voice trailed off as he remembered the helplessness he
had felt watching his father die.

“In a coma?” his
father finished. “I’m sure it had Doctor Benness quite concerned when my brain
suddenly stopped communicating with Cyberdrome,” he added with a smile. “The
neuroprobes were simply protecting me by placing my body in a comatose state
after disconnection.”

Alek looked at
Maya and they shared a silent thought.
He doesn’t know!

Maya turned back
to his father. “How can you claim to be Mathew Grey when you admit that your
brain is no longer connected to your Avatar?”

His father took
a deep breath and spread his arms wide. “I am what you see before you,” he
said. “A transcendent consciousness—a living program.”

“How?” Maya
whispered. “Why?”

His father, or
the Avatar posing as his father replied, “The organic body that once housed my
consciousness was unable to work for extended periods of time at this level of
interface. You told me as much yourself when we last spoke, Maya. This transfer
was necessary to complete my efforts. Since it worked, I think you will come to
agree that the attempt was worth any potential risk.”

“A person can’t
exist as a stand-alone Avatar,” Maya said.

“Maybe he can,”
Alek said turning to face Maya. “You know, I should’ve done the math earlier.
Maybe I didn’t want to think about what it could mean.”

“What the hell
are you talking about?” she asked angrily. “Don’t tell me you believe this
thing.”

Alek put up his
hands to calm her. “You told me yourself that these Avatars contain near-exact
copies of our brains, and that they can reproduce most, if not all, of our
memories.”

She looked back
and forth between Alek and his father. “That doesn’t mean they are us,” she
said.

“You also told
me that at higher levels of interface the Avatars are relied on to handle most
of the minute-to-minute, or second-to-second interpolation. At some point, you
have to admit, more of our thoughts have to be originating inside these Avatar
brains than our physical ones back in the real world.” He looked at her face
and realized that she was fighting the same truth that he was just now
beginning to accept.

His father tried
to place a hand on Maya’s shoulder, but she pulled away. “As Alek said, it’s
all in the math. Tell us why it takes longer and longer to wake up from interface
at the faster settings.”

“I’ll admit that
at faster interface levels, the Avatars are able to gain knowledge of their
own,” Maya said. “I also know that we designed them to download what they
learned back to the human host at the completion of interface.” She looked at
his father and then at Alek. “But, they are still just copies—they are not us.”

“Right now, you
are more than 99% program,” his father said to Maya. “The connection with your
host body accounts for less than one percent of your total brain functions at
this interface speed. Do you feel any different? Are you going to tell me that
you’re not Maya Rivero? That you are just an Avatar? The only difference
between the two of you and myself, is that I severed that final 1% connection;
freeing my Avatar—freeing myself.”

“This is all
your doing, isn’t it?” Alek said. “You faked the viral attack on Cyberdrome.
You sealed the system and trapped your fellow co-workers just so that you could
stay interfaced for as long as you wanted. We were blaming Lorena, or Klaxon,
or whatever her name is, but it was you who orchestrated all of it.”

“That can’t be
true,” Maya said. “Is it?” she asked his father.

“Lorena was a
valuable asset,” he said, “and I’m sure I couldn’t have done it without her.
However, to answer your question: Yes, I am responsible for all of this.” He
waved his hands around him as if he were showing off his work.

“And the
hostages?” Maya asked. “You risked the lives of our own colleagues to pursue
your work?”

 “No one is in
any real danger,” he said casually. “The neuroprobes are doing what they were
designed to do, which is keeping us all interfaced until my work here is
completed. I certainly couldn’t have them waking up my organic body before I
had a chance to finish my work and upload myself back in.”

The smirk on his
father’s face made Alek feel sick. “I don’t even know you,” he whispered.

“Really, Alek. I
would’ve thought that you of all people would understand what I’ve accomplished,”
his father replied dryly. He held out his hands again. “I’ve successfully
crossed the border that separates man from machine. I can live out hundreds of
lifetimes and complete research that would be impossible in the organic world.
While I’m inside Cyberdrome, I’m essentially immortal. I think that is well
worth inconveniencing a few dozen coworkers.”

“Inconveniencing?”
Maya asked. “Tell that to Herschel Lyman. He was tortured and nearly killed.”

His father
glanced over his shoulder at his former colleague who was standing quietly with
Persis and the two KaNanee several meters behind them. Without acknowledging
the man’s presence, he turned back to Maya. “He looks fine to me.”

“You brought
down the Survey Vessels,” Maya said. “You reprogrammed them to make them crash.
That’s what you were doing when you said you were running diagnostics on all
the ships.”

His father
nodded. “Again, no harm was intended. The program should’ve given them all ample
time to evacuate the ships before they lost power.”

“How exactly did
you do it?” Alek asked, changing the subject. “How exactly did you make the
separation? The readings showed that your body underwent some sort of major
stress.”

“Death can be
quite stressful,” his father replied.

“If you died
here, your Avatar would’ve been recycled by the system,” Maya said.

Alek looked at
her. “If my Avatar was killed right now, what is the first thing that would happen?”

“The first thing
that would happen would be an automatic disconnection with your host body,” she
said. “It’s a protective measure.”

“And what if his
Avatar were then revived?” Alek asked. “The split-second after disconnection,
before it had a chance to be recycled? What would happen to the Avatar?”

She looked at
his father. “That’s never happened before,” she said. “I guess it could continue
on its own, but that’s only a theory.”

“I would say
that I have proven your theory,” his father said. “When I have completed my
work here and successfully uploaded all of my experiences back into my organic
body, we can all write a dozen papers on the subject.” He turned and began
walking toward the side of the platform and down the steps. “Now, if you two
will join me, I’ll show you what I have been working on.”

Alek and Maya
exchanged confused glances, and then reluctantly followed him back down the
side of the pyramid. Alek realized that his father had no idea that his brain
and body were both dead, and that there was simply no going back for him.
Whatever he was—whatever he had become—was now final. Even if his original
motives were altruistic, his father had made a decision he had paid for with
his life.

He heard a
rumbling sound and turned to see the Survey Vessel resealing its lower platform.
The ship then silently moved off to one side and dropped down to hover just off
the ground a hundred meters away.

The lower
platform dropped again and another figure stepped out onto the ground and began
walking quickly toward the other side of the pyramid. This time he was sure
that it was Klaxon. She seemed to be avoiding a confrontation, which was
probably smart. If she ever dared get close enough, he would make sure she paid
for her part in what had happened to them. That is, if Cloudhopper didn’t get
to her first.

When they
reached the bottom of the steps, the Soldiers moved everyone away from the base
of the pyramid. As soon as they were clear, the sides of the pyramid began
folding up like a giant piece of origami. The large structure then began
dropping, piece by piece, down into the ground. As the pyramid slowly turned
itself back into millions of individual Soldiers, it revealed a large spherical
structure underneath.

The sphere was
the color of gunmetal and at least 50 meters tall, even with the lower quarter
buried in the ground. As Alek followed his father toward it, a circular door
appeared on the nearest side and began to spiral open.

As they passed
through the door, Alek saw a holographic projection of a huge planet floating
in the middle of the room, high above their heads. The planet was distinctly
Earth-like—deep blue oceans, greenish-brown continents, all covered by swirling
white clouds.

However,
something about it was wrong. None of the landmasses looked quite right. As the
globe spun slowly around, he saw what looked like the North American continent
come into view, but Florida and most of the southeastern United States were
gone. Then he realized another strange feature—the planet had no polar ice caps
whatsoever. Even Antarctica was replaced with a smaller, brown-colored island.

“This is a
Watchport,” Maya whispered, breaking his train of thought.

He pulled his
eyes away from the hologram and surveyed the rest of the room. Below the floating
planet, there was a wide, circular pad—presumably the transport node. Step on
that, and you take a trip, he thought—hopefully one with a few less thrills
than his last one.

Surrounding the
planet, but not touching it, was a large silver ring held up by three arched columns.
Two figures stood facing each other near the base of the farthest arch—one was
Ceejer and the other, Alek realized, was Klaxon.

“Your Sentinel
friend told us that these were all destroyed,” she said. “How could this one survive?”

“Maybe Javid was
wrong,” he said, but then another answer came to him. “Or maybe the Soldier
pyramid shielded it.”

His father
turned to look at him and smiled. “Very astute, son. Yes, I built the pyramid
in advance to protect this Watchport from all types of damage. Obviously I
needed a base of operations where I could conduct my work.”

“For your
Chimera Project?” Maya asked.

His father
raised an eyebrow. “You’ve read my files,” he said, seeming to weigh the
thought, then added, “What do you think of the project?”

“I think you might
be mad, Dr. Grey,” she said flatly.

He regarded her
silently for a moment. “Am I?” he asked softly, almost to himself.

“Can you
communicate with all of the worlds from here?” Alek asked, interrupting the
conversation. “I thought the Watchports had to be physically connected to each
simulation.”

“That is why I
had Lorena bring me a Survey Vessel,” he said. “I plan to use it to carry this
Watchport to each sector, one at a time.”

“Lorena helped
us plan this whole mission just so you could get your hands on a Survey Vessel?”
Maya asked.

“What can you
do?” Alek asked his father, interrupting Maya again. “I mean, if you really are
the mind and consciousness of my father, living inside a digital body. What can
you do?”

“What do you
mean, Alek?” Maya asked, obviously perturbed at his repeated interruptions.

Alek motioned
toward his father. “He knows what I’m talking about.”

His father’s
face remained passive for a moment, but then one eyebrow raised and he turned toward
Alek. “Do you mean something like this?”

He slowly raised
one hand, open palm facing upwards, and closed his eyes. Alek was about to ask
what he was doing when a blur formed in the space just above his hand. Alek
blinked once, thinking it was his vision, but the blur remained. It began to
waver and Alek noticed his father’s face tensing up in concentration.
Gradually, the blur above his hand took shape and a large, golden chalice
appeared in his hand, covered with what looked like emeralds and rubies.

His father
opened his eyes and held the cup out toward Alek. “Your quest for the Holy
Grail has ended, my son,” he said in a deep baritone. “Drink deep and be given
immortality.”

Maya looked
awestruck and reached out to touch the chalice. “Is it real?” she asked.

His father
smiled broadly. “I forgot that you’re a person of faith, my dear,” he said as
he handed it to her.

She accepted it
and held it in her arms. “It’s really heavy,” she said with a grin on her face,
then looked at Alek. His expression must’ve said something to her, because her
smile disappeared and she tossed the cup over her shoulder. It landed on the
Watchport floor with a loud clang and one of the emeralds broke off. “Nice
parlor trick,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “How did you do it?”