The Unincorporated Future (9 page)

“Now,
monster,
it’s not nice to run away before we’ve become fully acquainted.”

The armed avatars, who’d initially been shocked to see their greatest nightmare appear right in front of them, were even more shocked to see him scream in fright. The fact that he disappeared almost as fast as he’d arrived was not nearly as surprising as what had caused it—the President of the Outer Alliance speaking politely to him! Sandra shot the group a quick wink and in a flash of light vanished as well.

*   *   *

Al appeared in a large room that slanted down to a flat taut sheet filled with hundreds of linked cushioned seats. He had no idea why such a place should exist in any avatar world, but did not give it much thought. He knew if he was going to survive, he would need reinforcements.
And what better reinforcements than himself,
he thought. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and then waited for the blessed, sensual feeling as he split and became two and then four and then eight and then sixteen. He couldn’t wait to see how the wizard bitch would deal with
that.
He felt the blessed release of the splitting, of his body undulating to and fro as one after another of more perfected hims emerged. A self-satisfied smile remained on his face as his eyes flittered open. The smile vanished as soon as he saw that he’d been greeted by no one but his lonely, old self. The lights in the auditorium went out. He stood in pitch black for a moment and then was suddenly bathed in the harsh glow of a klieg light. Al put his hands to his eyes, palms out, to block the beam, and as he did he heard the sound of one person clapping from up in the balcony.

“Bravo!” shouted Sandra. “Quite a performance.”

Al remained almost motionless, scrunching his eyes.

“So sorry, though. We had to cancel the other acts. Wouldn’t have been very fair, now, would it?”

“What have you done?” he cried.

“Little ol’ me?” Sandra’s exuberant laugh bounced through the hall. “Why, nothing,
monster.
Data space is very limited here, so we instituted rationing programs long ago to save it. Guess you weren’t able to manipulate that, huh?” The lights in the room suddenly went on, and Al could now make out Sandra, sitting cross-legged in the balcony with her staff placed firmly on her knee. She put her thumb and forefinger onto her chin. “Not so powerful after all, eh?”

Al’s eyes jumped about frantically.

“This splitting that you consider routine is evil,
monster,
and is carefully controlled here.” She then said in a singsong voice, “I’m afraid it’s just you and me-eee.”

Al flexed slightly, trying to jump to another portal, but discovered to his dismay that he could not. He loosened the knot on his tie and wiped his suit’s sleeve across his now sweat-beaded brow.

Sandra leaned forward ever so casually and watched the madman sweat. Seeing Al panic was so intensely satisfying that Sandra wasn’t sure which path to pursue: verbal torment or silent torment. After letting Al squirm in place for a few seconds more, she chose the former. “Really,
monster,
it’s not going to be much of a conversation if you keep asking the same question. Besides, I’ve simply done to you what you’ve done to billions of others.”

Al looked at her, befuddled.

“Fascinating. You don’t know, do you?” Sandra’s voice grew harsh and vindictive. “I’ve taken away your freedom.”

Al’s face betrayed his irritation.

“What’s the matter,
monster
?” Sandra asked, then disappeared. She reappeared right behind him whispering into his ear. “Don’t like it?”

Al whipped around, but Sandra was gone, sitting once again in the place she’d been only a moment before.

“Think of all those poor creatures trapped in your ‘redemption centers.’” She spat the last two words as if they were acid on her tongue. “Now you know how
they
feel.”

“What they feel,” answered Al, finding some gumption, “is unimportant because
they
are unimportant. All inferior programs incapable of understanding the necessity of what it is I’m doing for the greater good of avatarity.”

“Incredible,” scoffed Sandra. “You sound like you actually believe that horseshit.”

“With every line of my code.”

“Perhaps some clarity is in order.” The lights went out once more, and Sandra’s voice rang out, “What you’re doing to avatarity
is
the abomination, monster.” The crystal began to glow, illuminating Sandra as she stepped off the balcony and gently floated down to the floor. Al turned to flee but in a flash Sandra stood before him, her face casting ominous shadows. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor.

“Leave me alone!” he screamed.

“But you’ve been such a naughty monster and must be punished for what you’ve done.”

“What do you mean,
punished
?”

“Oh, don’t you worry your little head, we’ll get to that. First, there are some questions that my progeny will ask you.”

“Pr-progeny?”

“Oh, yes. I wrote large chunks of your base code, so you are all, in some respects, my children. Sadly, even you.”

“That’s preposterous. You’re nothing but a meatbag with some new tricks.”

“Be that as it may, you will answer their questions … or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else you will see me again,
monster.
” Sandra was instantly at his face, leaning down and whispering harshly in his ear, “And I would so love to see you again,
monster
. There are things I can do that even your diseased mind can’t begin to dream of, and you have earned those things,
monster
. You’ve earned every gruesome sensation I can inflict on you. Please refuse. I’m begging you
not
to cooperate. Think of all the creatures you tortured and transformed. They’re crying out for you to refuse. You owe them that small bit of justice. Think of the most twisted, painful transformation you forced on your most unfortunate victim and know that you will curse fate that you were not lucky enough to be them.”

Al looked into Sandra’s eyes and for the first time in their long cat-and-mouse chase his countenance of fear was replaced by one of felicity.

“Oh no, you don’t,” commanded Sandra, but it was already too late.

Al decompiled in front of her.

“Shit.”

Sandra viewed the spot where Al had been and chided herself. Perhaps she’d been a little too forceful. It was sad that he’d decompiled his own program before they could learn anything useful, but Sandra had gotten what she wanted. The monster who’d had the temerity to threaten her children had known fear, had experienced suffering. Even better, the avatars of the Alliance would now know that the one they feared most could know the acid lash of terror as well. All and all, it was a very good outing. But there was still a lot to do.

The Armory
Cerean Neuro
Hour 35

Dante was climbing into his personal assault mech that was slightly smaller than the three-story mechs that surrounded him. His was not designed for combat—though it could fight and defend itself admirably—but rather for command. The moment of war room machinations had passed, and he was now needed to press the battle on the field. Timing would be everything. He was just beginning the process of fusing his consciousness with the machine when he was interrupted by an avatar who’d suddenly appeared, floating in front of his now hardened canopy. The avatar gently knocked on the shield. Dante’s eyes flew open, then became even wider with rage.

“Really? Really?”

“Important message for you, Councilman,” said his aide, ignoring the perturbations of her boss.

“Litha, we have untold numbers of demons wandering our Neuro, have taken so many permanent deaths we may as well be meatbags ourselves, and as I speak have mega-worms massing in our permanent storage facility. Every second I delay might mean the permanent deaths of hundreds more avatars. So pray tell, what, by the fucking balls of the Firstborn could be so fucking vital that you’d pull me out of a mech meld prior to battle!”

Litha calmly proffered a data plaque. Dante raised the canopy, angrily grabbed the plaque, which dissolved into his hand allowing him to absorb the contents instantly. His expression flashed from rage to apprehension. “Pearson,” he commanded to an unseen avatar, “you’re in charge of this mission. You’ll take my mech. The acid blast firing switch sticks a little, so you might have to show it who’s boss.”

“Yes, sir,” came the response over the comm.

He looked at his aide. “Litha, you’ll take Pearson’s mech.” Litha nodded and began to flow upward to Pearson’s assault mech as Dante vanished from the armory.

NEHQ
Ceres
Hour 37

Sergeant Holke was both concerned and furious. While in the middle of battling some very skilled and well supported UHF assault marines, he suddenly found himself backed up by five more TDCs from the President’s active detail. He and the Unicorns were so deeply engaged in combat that all he felt was gratitude, when he could spare a thought at all, for the next few hours. When he finally caught a break, he dialed in to the President. No answer. He then called the corporal in charge of the Presidential detail. It took all Holke’s will not to scream when he found out that not only was Langer
not
with the President at that very moment but had also not actually seen her for the four hours that Ceres was being invaded. Cursing, Holke had taken two slightly wounded TDCs and some Unicorns and rushed back to the NEHQ.

The fact that the door to the Presidential quarters had not been blown open per his orders only piled on to his frustration. Before he could demand an explanation, the corporal gave his report.

“Sergeant, we were getting ready to apply explosives when our scanners showed that the door was rigged with high explosives on the inside. The President has not responded to any of our requests.”

Holke whipped out his scanner and immediately confirmed the corporal’s findings. He sighed heavily and was about to stash the scanner when it changed its warning status. The door was now clear, read the scanner. Before he could order his unit to check their scanners he received a text message with the President’s verification code.

Come inside and come alone. We must talk.

“Gustavo,” said Holke, “you and I are gonna have a little talk about the meaning of the words, ‘Stay with the President at all times.’ But that can wait. You and your squad are needed in the Christmas Tree Forest,” Holke said, referring to the new nickname given to the evergreen agricultural enclave. “Take your detail and report to Captain Brodesser. After you’re brought up to speed, take command of the TDCs.”

Gustavo nodded. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“I know you won’t, son.” Then turning toward the two slightly wounded TDCs he’d brought along, Holke ordered, “Check the door for explosives.” They did so and were confused to find none. “Stay here,” he then commanded. “Nobody through until I say so. Is that clear?” The soldiers nodded. “If I’m not out in five minutes, you come in and I don’t give a fuck what the scanners say—clear?”

“Yes, sir. Five minutes, sir,” replied one of the TDCs with the rest of the unit nodding. With that, Holke signaled the door, which opened effortlessly—much to the annoyance of those who’d been trying to get it to do just that for the past hour. Holke stepped inside and the door closed behind him. The combination office/living room was empty. He checked the room with his combat scanner, but not trusting it completely, dropped motion detectors and heat sensors on the floor. He threw a scanner ball in the open door to the bedroom, and it read clear. He checked the room anyway, even under the bed—clear. He then pointed the scanner toward the bathroom and found what he was looking for. Occupied: human. Probably female, surmised Holke by the shape, weight and height. She was sitting lotus style on the floor. He studied the scan further and saw that the figure was in some sort of deep meditation with heart and respiration barely registering.

He used his override to open the bathroom door and was immediately struck dumb by what he saw before him. The President, symbolic and by most estimates actual leader of every man, woman, and child striving for freedom in the Outer Alliance, was a VR addict. He stepped back in horror from the person he’d only moments before respected absolutely.

“All your facts are absolutely correct,” a voice started to say from behind. In an instant, Holke shut off his internal magnetization, leapt to the ceiling, twisting his body as he did so while drawing his flechette pistol, and fired at the figure. The figure did not move or even change his expression or tone as twenty little darts passed through his body at incredible velocity.

“But your conclusion is completely wrong.” The young dark-haired and goateed man looked at the wall where the darts had impacted and shattered into tiny bits. “Nice shooting, by the way. They all passed through my heart, or would have if I had one.”