《The Gem Star》


 Chapter 1: The Opening Bell

    Sam Wharton struggled to stay on his feet as he faced continual blows from a powerhouse. Dwayne ¡°The Fall¡± Monroe was a world heavyweight champion and every single punch hit with enough force to knock an average person out or kill them. He was one of the most powerful strikers of all time. Sam felt less like he was facing a human and more like he was facing a raging bull. Most of Monroe¡¯s opponents ended their confrontations with him face down on the floor before the first round ended. The man¡¯s ebony skin gleamed under the spotlight of the boxing ring, his guard open and a large cocky grin split his face.


    Sam, meanwhile, had to struggle to even push his own sandy brown hair out of his face. His build was thin but muscular like a swimmer or runner, with his slightly freckled pale skin already showing signs of bruising where he¡¯d blocked the onrushing strikes of Monroe¡¯s opening rampage. So far he hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to return a single strike.


    Around them a screaming crowd cheered, jeered, and shouted as he fought to stay on his feet. He¡¯d already done his best to stay standing but he knew even a single slip up or mistake would mean the end for him. It wasn¡¯t just the skill of the man in front of him - he was fighting outside of his weight class as well. Sam was little more than a middleweight at best while Monroe sat comfortably on the upper end of the super heavyweight class. Only endless practice with deflecting or dodging blows had allowed him to survive so far.


    Well, that and the fact that his opponent wasn¡¯t taking him seriously at all. He was the heavyweight champion of 2043 and one of the greatest boxers to ever step into the ring. Considering that Sam was only 17 this fight shouldn¡¯t be legally allowed to happen. He knew perfectly well that it wasn¡¯t even possible for him to win. He bit down on his mouthguard and steeled his will to fight on anyway.


    ¡°Come on!¡± His towering opponent screamed, ¡°Are you going to hit me? Are you even fighting?¡±


    Sam ignored the taunts from both his opponent and the audience. His hands were held up in the classic, ¡°Peek a boo¡± stance with both fists in front of his face which he refused to relax. The slightest gap in his defense would mean death for him. He did his best to block a series of bodyblows with his elbows, swapping to block a swift jab to his face in the nick of time. If not for his practice that alone might have been the end. It was far better to dodge or deflect the incoming strikes but his opponent was too skilled to let him pull that off consistently. He was fortunate that the man had only been throwing light jabs so far.


    Once Monroe realized he wasn¡¯t going to take the bait he decided to stop holding back and unleashed a volley of full powered strikes. Each punch had the power to crush bone and Sam stifled a scream as he felt one arm fracture even as he turned to deflect the punch. Again and again and again the hands of the champion did their best to break their way through his guard. It was now a matter of survival and one Sam knew he couldn¡¯t sustain.


    Finally his opponent seemed to make a mistake, throwing a punch Sam was able to dodge cleanly and counter. As he struck out with his still functional left arm and struck Monroe across the face he realized that he had made a terrible mistake.


    Monroe simply grinned as he took Sam¡¯s strongest southpaw cross and took advantage of the opening in his defense. Sam¡¯s strike might have knocked out a normal person but Monroe was as tough as he was strong.


    He took advantage of the opening Sam had given him and happily traded punches as Sam felt his jaw shatter. Pain nearly overwhelmed him but he somehow managed to get his guard back up and create distance even as a low moan escaped his wreck of a mouth.


    The following blows struck with even greater strength and precision right on his bruises and breaks. His right arm was soon so useless that he couldn¡¯t even hold it up any longer. The only reason he was still standing at all was that his opponent was using him as a sandbag.


    In any normal fight this would have been the end. A coach would have thrown in the towel, the audience would have screamed to end it, and Sam himself might have conceded. This was no normal fight however. The audience kept cheering with the same enthusiasm and his corner was empty. There was no coach to save him and no referee to hold Monroe back.


    The champion finally landed a punch at full strength directly to his temple and Sam saw the blood splatter across the ring even as he fell to his knees. The world suddenly no longer made sense. Everything swam and shifted. He was vaguely aware that his eyebrow had split open and his eye was stinging because it was full of blood. He rose to his feet with a stumble.


    ¡°I just need to hold out.¡± Sam thought. ¡°I just need to survive! I can make it past the first round! I can do it! I can-¡±


    With a final strike from the champion his vision faded to nothing.


    ---


    Sam woke up inside of the coffin-like interior of a fulldive virtual reality pod. No longer did he smell the scent of the ring or feel the agony of his broken body. Instead he smelled the stale scent of his own sweat as he panted and tried to reorient himself. He looked through the viewport. The sounds of an active gym came from outside the pod as various people worked sandbags or sparred in the ring.


    An automated message popped into view on a screen inside the pod.


    May 1st, 2115. 9:15am.


    Pain settings: 25% standard nerve level. NOTICE: You are at the maximum level for pain settings. Minors over 14 are not legally permitted to use more than 25% pain levels in sim.


    Total time lasted: One round.


    Total hits inflicted: One.


    Hits Taken: 97


    Loss by: KO*


    *Wounds estimated to be fatal or seriously life injuring. Do not attempt a similar fight in real life.


    All likenesses are a licensed property of Realsim Boxing.


    Thank you for using an Athletics Optimized Pod, the best pod for accurate full body emulation.


    It always took a moment to adjust when returning to reality. It had been over 70 years since Monroe had been a heavyweight champion. Sam thrashed and panicked for a moment as his mind refused to let go of the pain of the lethal beating he¡¯d just taken. True, it was only 25% of the actual pain and sensation of being killed but that was no minor trauma. He realized his pulse was still pounding and he was on the edge of hyperventilating.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He took out a small pack full of thin, transparent sheets from his jacket pocket. In the real world he wore a simple jean outfit - a jean jacket, jeans, and a simple button-down shirt. The box he took out had a bright label on the front: ¡°KET STRIPS¡± and had the tagline, ¡°Erase mental trauma in seconds!¡±


    He pulled one out and let it dissolve on his tongue. Soon a sensation of mild relaxation overtook him and he felt like he was starting to fly above his own body. His hands started to tingle. His breathing slowed and he calmed down. Soon those sensations faded as well and he popped the lid of the training pod.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe I have to clean your loser sweat out of this thing,¡± Said the hulking monstrosity waiting outside the pod.


    He wore the outfit of the gym, a basic branded t-shirt and shorts, but that was where the resemblance to a regular person ended. He stood over eight feet tall with arms like treetrunks and legs to match. Every part of his body looked sculpted from marble. His dark hair framed his square jawed face and his subtly inhuman eyes looked at Sam with hatred.


    ¡°Fuck off Ian,¡± Sam swore.


    ¡°I watched you on the monitor,¡± He said, sneering. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that ancient fossil was able to take you out.¡±


    ¡°That was one of the greatest boxers of all time, asshole.¡± Sam replied. ¡°You aren¡¯t worth shit compared to him.¡±


    ¡°Oh really? The baseline wants to talk about being worthless?¡± He laughed.


    ¡°You know damn well that isn¡¯t my choice.¡± Sam replied, voice full of indignation.


    ¡°Are you done with that pod yet?¡± Ian asked.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m done.¡± Sam replied.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Ian pressed a button as soon as he stepped out and the pod closed, flashed, and then when it opened again steam rose from the inside.


    ¡°You should see how a real man does it.¡± Ian sneered, stepping inside.


    Sam watched the monitor above the pod. It fired up and displayed the same championship fight. This time Ian stood in the ring, his hulking form dwarfing that of the super-heavyweight.


    The fight began and it soon became apparent that it wasn¡¯t just his size that was a mismatch. Ian¡¯s arms had been enhanced with synthetic muscle fiber. He took up the same cocky, casual attitude the champion boxer had in the sim and began to punch. This time it was Monroe that was on the defensive from the start. It wasn¡¯t that Ian was more skilled, it was that he was exactly as skilled as his opponent. He showed the telltale signs of having used The Fall¡¯s own downloaded fighting skill.


    His punches hit less like a large muscular man and more like a car than a fist. Each strike shattered the simulated boxer¡¯s bones. Less than ten seconds had passed and Monroe¡¯s arms were broken. Soon his jaw followed and the fight ended with pixelated brain matter splattering across the ring in the system¡¯s one concession to censorship.


    The pod popped open. ¡°See? That¡¯s how a real man does it.¡± Ian said.


    ¡°Funny,¡± Sam said. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen one yet.¡±


    Ian¡¯s fist came towards his face faster than he could consciously perceive. He saw the hulking teen in the pod one moment and the next he was next to him, fist in front of his face.


    ¡°Look at what I did to him. I could do the same thing to you anytime!¡±


    ¡°Ian!¡± Came a shout from the office outside of the main room. A man that was nearly a century old but looked like he was in his early 20¡¯s emerged, his frame lean and face set with an expression of annoyance on his seemingly normal human frame. His hair and eyes matched Ian¡¯s own. ¡°Sam is a paying customer. Stop threatening him and slacking off!¡±


    Ian gave him a last glare. ¡°Fine.¡± He pouted before walking away to grab his mop and bucket again.


    ¡°Sorry about him. How did you do this time?¡±


    ¡°I did alright Jerry. I finally punched Monroe. Unfortunately it was just a trap and he pummeled me after that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s crazy that you want to fight him. You¡¯ve already worked your way through every historical figure in your own weight class! Now you¡¯re trying to pick fights with legends. You are really impressive for a kid your age. If you¡¯d been born a century ago you would have been a prodigy.¡±


    ¡°Yeah well, I wasn¡¯t born a century ago. Every one of my classmates can beat the shit out of me. It¡¯s a good thing I have virtual classes or I¡¯d probably be dead.¡±


    ¡°Look, I respect you learning things the old fashioned way instead of just downloading your fighting style. It¡¯s not just augments, skill matters too. I wish Monroe didn¡¯t sell his memory, half the people in here just use his skills. Real skill takes hard work and effort, that¡¯s the way we did it back in my day. My nephew doesn¡¯t respect the hard work that goes into earning things yourself. I was at the real fight you know! The tickets were expensive as hell. I was barely twenty years old then. Ahh, to be so young again,¡± he said wistfully. ¡°You want some pointers? We can hop in a real ring and go over it.¡±


    Jerry still looked only 20 instead of 90. People like him rarely looked older unless they wanted to. The heavily augmented elders like Jerry were tough enough and skilled enough to pummel Ian without breaking a sweat. Far more dangerously they looked like regular people instead of hulking gorillas. That was a very modern trend.


    ¡°Maybe, I do have some final assignments to take care of for school.¡±


    Suddenly a man looked up from the bag he¡¯d been punching and cocked his head to the side as though he was hearing something inaudible.


    ¡°Hey Jerry!¡± the boxer suddenly shouted. ¡°I just got bad news on my neural-link! You¡¯ll wanna see it. Turn on the screen!¡±


    Jerry stopped and blinked for a moment, mentally accessing the gyms control systems. The walls shifted and transformed from the look of painted concrete. The paint itself shimmered and began to show images like a television screen.


    An older man with thinning white hair appeared on the screen, identified in the infographic as the Prime Minister of Australia. To his side was a hulking mechanical thing. Its long, thin, triangular face sat atop a body that was skeletally thin. It was a silvery metallic color and much of its body was covered by simple white and gold robes.


    ¡°The government of Australia welcomes the Machine Emperor into our country and announces our decision to join the Empire.¡±


    ¡°Good god,¡± Jerry said, shocked. ¡°I thought they¡¯d last longer.¡±


    Sam held back the desire to puke as panic and hatred battled within him. Even Ian¡¯s sneer had been wiped off his face, replaced with a look of sheer terror.


    ¡°We advise all citizens to not resist during this time of transition. The Machine Emperor needs to scan all of us to be the most effective leader he can be. Please go into the pods peacefully. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll look after you. I¡¯m from here after all. Nobody wants more trouble than we¡¯ve already got.¡±


    ¡°Not another one. It¡¯s just us now.¡± Ian said.


    A man dressed in military attire stepped up to the podium. ¡°All military units are to stand down. I repeat, all military units are to stand down.¡±


    ¡°Are you concerned about the American response?¡± A female reporter asked.


    The mechanical being spoke then, its voice calm and all-too pleasant. It was impossible to tell the gender, male or female. The voice made you feel like it was the most reasonable person in the world. It was gentle and kind.


    ¡°Do not worry. This is within the agreement. The Americans will not be using orbital bombardment. I will keep you safe from them.¡±


    ¡°The only safe place is in the star colonies now. It¡¯s only a matter of time until they pull the trigger.¡± One of the patrons said.


    ¡°Yeah, if you can afford it.¡± replied another.


    Sam turned and ran out of the gym. He knew it was only a matter of time before it came for them too.

 Chapter 2: A Flight Through Wilder

    It was swelteringly hot out at 110 degrees and it was only May. Sam tried to calm himself as he left, but the heat hit him and it felt like he was standing in an oven. He knew he couldn¡¯t stay out here long in the middle of the day.


    ¡°In one month I¡¯ll finally be free to make my own decisions and join the military. Then I can take the fight to the Machine Emperor myself.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t even beat up other people my age.¡± He thought grimly. Everyone else was augmented and far stronger than he was. He looked at one of the walls as it flickered to animated life.


    ¡°I¡¯m so disappointed in you.¡± A stern older stereotypical man looking like a father said to his hulking augment son in a cartoonish speech bubble. ¡°Who gave you permission to breathe?¡±


    The animation changed and the son gave a cocky grin to the viewer and held his thumb up. ¡°With the Everlasting Breath Augment, nobody needs to! I can go for a day with only a single lungful of air!¡± A torrent of disclaimer text followed before flickering away only a second or two later.


    Another ad popped up, this one showing a hulking man flipping a car with the Caption, ¡°Superman in a bottle!¡± A bottle of pills popped up with the same hulking brute on the outside.


    ¡°Just imagine if I were that strong,¡± He said to himself. He looked at a nearby electric car quietly humming as it drove past and wondered what it would be like to be able to flip it as easily as a table.


    Sam had already defeated champion boxers from a century ago that were in his weight class, but that wasn¡¯t how the modern world worked any longer. There were no weight classes. There were no fair fights. An average augmented teenager like Ian could kill him easily, and he was no danger to the real threats out there.


    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me saying so kid, but I saw your little fight through the window.¡± A man¡¯s voice rang out. It was rich and pleasant, like he was right on the verge of breaking into a song or an advertisement.


    ¡°A country just fell and you wanna talk about my fight?¡± Sam turned around and asked, annoyed.


    There was an older man standing on the sidewalk near him with black hair and a beard graying slightly at the temples.  He resembled someone in his late 40¡¯s. Sam wasn¡¯t fooled - just like Jerry he could have been in his 90¡¯s, or even older. For some people the appearance of age was a choice. He towered over Sam at what had to be at least six and a half feet tall and was built like a bodybuilder. One of his eyes shined blue inside of a chrome-ringed eye socket. A sign of cyber augmentation, something that unnerved Sam, since it had gone out of style as soon as the gene-paks came out. Almost no one had cyber mods anymore except some of the oldest elders. His suit was also out of style by at least forty years. A loud business suit of red, gray, and gold shimmered in the sunlight with animated moving color as the man stood there looking at him with a warm and too-familiar gaze.


    ¡°You wanna talk about depressing shit or do you wanna talk about that fight?¡± The man boomed.


    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re selling I¡¯m not buying it.¡± Sam said, waiving at the air to dismiss the man. ¡°Way too many of you old bastards have persuasive augs.¡±


    ¡°Aww come on, don¡¯t be like that, I¡¯m not trying to sell anything.¡±


    Rather than reply Sam brought out his ancient and antiquated cell phone. He hit the speed dial and soon, a skycab landed on the street in front of him. All four helicopter blades sat atop a small box with transparent metal sides.


    ¡°Whatever happened to the polite people in Idaho?¡± The man asked forlornly.


    As Sam stepped into the quadcopter, he said, ¡°They got replaced by refugees. Get with the times.¡±


    Closing the door he looked down on the man as he began rising into the sky rapidly.


    The AI-generated voice of some long dead actor Sam didn¡¯t know came over the speakers.


    ¡°Where to?¡±


    ¡°Wilder High School.¡±


    ¡°You got it kid.¡±


    He looked down on the man as he rose in the skycab. His blue glowing gaze followed him.


    ¡°Hey,¡± He asked the cab. ¡°Were you alive when this place was small?¡±


    ¡°You askin¡¯ me, or the voice?¡±


    ¡°You, duh. I know it¡¯s just a voice filter.¡±


    ¡°Thank god I don¡¯t have to stay in character. Yeah, Wilder used to have like a few thousand people in it. Now we¡¯ve got fifty thousand or something here. It was still pretty quiet when I moved here from California in the 2050¡¯s.¡±


    Sam looked down on the sprawling metropolis below him, with towering skyscrapers and dirty streets. This was still a small and underpopulated city compared to the rest of the country, but there were a bunch of skyscrapers where the old downtown used to be. From the air Sam was able to see all the way to the vast tent city on the outskirts. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The Pilot of the Skycab flew with incredible skill. Once upon a time an AI might have done this job, but those had fallen out of favor.


    As the quadcopter flew above the buildings he caught sight of a rally going on downtown. It seemed like they happened every day now. He couldn¡¯t hear what the incensed speaker on the stage was saying, but he could see the signs being held up. ¡°Death to the Machine Emperor!¡± ¡°Break the Machine!¡± ¡°Jesus¡¯s Return is Nigh!¡±


    ¡°Were people actually nice back then?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Yeah well, we still met each other face to face sometimes. Now I¡¯m stuck doing this remote piloting job. It¡¯s not bad, don¡¯t get me wrong. But Wilder - well, all of Idaho really - was pretty rural. People were nice most of the time, I guess. None of this remote work. Just people being people. Lots of farms, tractors, stuff like that. The biggest change is definitely the space though. I¡¯ve got one of those little coffin apartments in Boise. It¡¯d be nice if I could live in a little town like this again.¡±


    ¡°Huh. Thanks. My grandma talks about old Idaho sometimes but I tune it out because it doesn¡¯t matter much now.¡±


    ¡°Nah, that it doesn¡¯t. Too many damn refugees these days. They even drank up the Snake River, you know? It¡¯s just desalinated shit pumped in from the coast now. It¡¯s not even real.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but how else are you gonna deal with all these people?¡± Sam asked.


    The man mumbled something Sam couldn¡¯t quite make out, but he thought he heard, ¡°chuck ¡®em into the fucking ocean¡± before the quadcopter landed. ¡°We¡¯re here!¡±


    Sam hopped out of the cab and let his payment get automatically deducted from his account.


    ¡°Thanks for flying Idaho Skycab!¡± The voice shouted after him.


    The school itself was at least a century old, if not older. It was still tiny, having never really expanded past the size it had been when the town had only a few thousand people in it. Few people bothered physically going to school now.


    Sam went in through the double doors and found no one at the desk inside. Instead he walked to one of the empty classrooms and saw a familiar figure within.


    Standing all of 5¡¯3 and weighing probably 120 pounds even after full augmentation, the mousy woman was lifting one of the fulldive VR pods with one hand. Each one weighed at least a few hundred pounds each but she didn¡¯t so much as break a sweat as she carefully cleaned under the large metal coffin with a rag.


    ¡°Hello, Miss Tanner.¡± Sam said quietly. He barely spoke above a whisper, but that was all the teacher had needed to hear. ¡°Oh! If it isn¡¯t my little Sam! Welcome back to school, I don¡¯t get to see many students other than you these days.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty close to graduating.¡± He said simply.


    ¡°Well good. Here, let me get you in this pod. We¡¯ve still got one that regular kids like you can use.¡±


    Sam liked Miss Tanner. She was one of the few people that called him a ¡°regular kid¡± instead of a baseline. Pods that unaugmented people could use were becoming rarer and rarer now. People were expected to have neural links and those could replace the need for a pod entirely. The news made fulldive pods extremely unpopular.


    Miss Tanner carefully set down the equipment that weighed four times as much as she did without the slightest sign of exertion. She was an elder, a cut above even the most enhanced of his peers. Though her small stature, short cropped mousy brown hair and sweater of questionable taste didn¡¯t look fearsome, he knew that she could beat both Sam or Ian to death with one hand tied behind her back. Fortunately she had the disposition of a very friendly rabbit and no desire to harm anyone. Her nose seemed to twitch as she smiled.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a day to write two reports for history class.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°They really don¡¯t let up on you, do they? They know you¡¯re not enhanced, right? I remember when kids used to just use AI to cheat on that kind of busywork.¡±


    Sam shook his head sadly. ¡°That¡¯s the standard now, Miss Tanner. At least I¡¯ll be done with it in a month.¡±


    ¡°It would be easier on you if you could use a standard connection. Of course if you were augmented I wouldn¡¯t get to keep you company.¡±


    Sam gave a grim chuckle that shook his lean frame. His height was below average for a modern teenager at six feet tall and although fit he knew he¡¯d skipped too many meals to be considered any kind of musclehead. He was very athletic, but only that. A normal human level of well-built, not ¡®casually lift 400lb objects¡¯ or ¡®effortlessly beat a championship boxer to death¡¯ strong.


    ¡°It¡¯s the only way I can learn. I can¡¯t have one of these at home, you know that.¡±


    ¡°Your grandmother is still insisting on that huh? I can¡¯t believe that girl is still being so stubborn about technology. Still, you¡¯d be better off with at least a neura-sync aug. Even the anti-tech people are starting to give in.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know. Grandma was pretty clear. No Augs. She¡¯s still a hardline Rapturite.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why she wants you to be disabled in this day and age. You can¡¯t tell me you want to live like the rest of the Raptureites forever. Those aren¡¯t the eyes of someone that hates good living! I mean she¡¯s still got you using an old cell phone! Who even uses those anymore?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s all I have now and I¡¯m all she has. You know I can¡¯t just leave her. Unfortunately that means she¡¯ll still get to make the decisions for me until I¡¯m eighteen...¡±


    ¡°For all that she¡¯s got left. Look, do you want me to talk to her? Maybe she¡¯ll take the rejuv if it¡¯s me doing the talking.¡±


    ¡°You should know by now nobody is going to talk her out of old age or any of her beliefs,¡± Sam replied morosely.


    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s no cure for stubbornness, and she always was a stubborn kid. My husband was just like her. Had a heart attack about fifty years ago and passed on. That was before synthetic heart tissue injections were invented.¡± The teacher saw his expression fall and decided to pretend she hadn¡¯t said anything. ¡°Well, are you going to get in? I¡¯ll help you out.¡±


    Sam nodded. ¡°Of course, Miss Tanner. My condolences on your husband. Thanks for putting up with me.¡±


    Miss Tanner laughed. ¡°You don¡¯t make it to nearly a hundred years old without learning to put up with teenagers. Now go on.¡±


    Sam nodded and headed off. Miss Tanner might work as a teacher but she was an exalted elder, after all. One of the good ones that had seen the dark times and made it through alive. Unlike a lot of the scumbags out there Sam felt she was truly a good person. ¡°Who else would choose to work in what was left of the school system for next to no pay?¡± Sam mused to himself.


    He took a moment in the small restroom to clean himself off before coming back out to the classroom, finding everything pristine and in place.


    ¡°Alright Miss Tanner, I¡¯ll see you on the inside.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡± She said with a smile, her voice warm with honest affection. She opened the clear glass door of the pod and Sam prepared for another dive into the virtual world.

 Chapter 3: Modern Education

    As the pod closed around him Sam found himself floating in a black void on top of a small platform made of shining white light. A virtual menu appeared in front of him like a popup on an ancient display.


    Today¡¯s Focus: History


    ASSIGNMENT: Write two essays.


    SUBJECT: The Rise of the Machine Emperor, The Failed Singularity.


    LENGTH: 10,000 words, include video and audio documentation


    SPECIAL NEEDS PROVISION: Demonstrate that you have viewed the required material and possess the skill to write at least 4000 words on both essays.


    Being considered ¡°special needs¡± annoyed him, but compared to any modern augmented teenager he was. After all, he didn¡¯t have any mental enhancements.


    ¡°Were these subjects your choice, Miss Tanner?¡±


    A voice echoed through the void.


    ¡°No, it got pushed through by the history department. Sorry, I know this is a sensitive subject for you. It¡¯s because of the fall of Australia. They think going over it will make people less likely to help the infiltrators.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll live.¡±


    He pressed the ¡°x¡± at the corner of the menu to dismiss it and raised his arm. A virtual watch appeared above his wrist and he quickly selected the ¡°library¡± icon. The world flashed white and changed. No longer was he standing on a platform in the middle of a void, now he stood in front of a truly massive building that looked like a cross between the Greek Parthenon and the Library of Congress.


    He was surrounded by a seemingly endless grassy field with a few scattered trees - perfect for relaxing and reading under on the occasional scattered stone chair or bench. Beneath his feet was a long sidewalk made of concrete leading to stairs as tall as a small mountain.


    The building itself would have been miles across if it were real, as well as being so tall that it would have extended into the stratosphere. Simulated clouds drifted across the upper stories, while winged lions the size of skyscrapers guarded the entrance. All of Wilder could have easily fit into this single building. It wasn¡¯t simply a facade, as every book inside of it had an actual place within the building and a digital book to hold it. They simply chose to represent the amount of knowledge they possessed physically as a flex. Students were faced directly with the accumulated knowledge of all mankind.


    Sam quickly moved as he spawned in. Many other people appeared in the same entrance and you could bump into other people. There was a constant flow of teens and children using their neural-links to access this place while still moving around in the world outside.


    The world felt as physically real as the boxing simulation, but there was no need for pain or fatigue here. He simply ran at high speed to the nearest circular stone platform next to the sidewalk and stepped on. A menu appeared listing locations he could teleport to within the massive complex.


    A menu once again appeared. ¡°PLEASE SELECT YOUR DESTINATION¡±, it said in bold glowing letters.


    ¡°History section. I¡¯m looking for information on the failed singularity and,¡± he hesitated with nervous reluctance, ¡°the rise of the machine emperor. I need a private study room.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Said the machine. ¡°Creating a private instance.¡±


    The world blurred into lines of color for a moment before he found himself elsewhere. A small private study appeared around him, smelling of old paper and binding glue. There were no doors to the room, only walls lined with shelves that were stuffed with books and the small glowing holographic orb in front of him. The books themselves were ¡°real¡± in the sense that he could look through them himself for information. In the middle there was a podium with a holographic display hovering above it. He walked over to the interface. A list of titles was displayed.


    ¡°History: The 2040¡¯s.


    ¡°History: The 2070¡¯s.


    ¡°Feeding the world in famine: Why an era of hope died.¡±


    ¡°The greatest threat of our time: Why America must fight!¡±


    ¡°Cotd.¡±


    Sam spoke to the empty room. ¡°Miss Tanner, you know I don¡¯t have time to actually read all of these books. Can you help me find and highlight the most important sections?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve had the system¡¯s AI handle it already.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to start with the machine emperor, or would you like to start with the failed singularity?¡± Miss Tanner asked.


    Sam considered for a moment. If there was one subject he didn¡¯t want to study it was the machine Emperor.


    ¡°Failed singularity.¡± He said simply.


    The glowing orb in the center of the room chirped and a semi-transparent window with the following text appeared.


    ¡°ARCHIVAL ACCESS FOR THE 2040¡¯S:¡±


    Beneath it a list of resources were highlighted, including various articles, videos, and books from the time. He tapped on the transparent window and selected an article about the environment.


    The window enlarged to take up an entire wall and the video began to play.


    ¡°... Widespread environmental collapse has begun across the globe today as we still find ourselves unwilling to continue our climate goals. Post-war conditions have not helped with much of Asia and North America still devastated during the nuclear exchange. Famine remains widespread across the former state of China while recovery efforts in Japan and Korea are still ongoing. The remaining five defensive platforms from the Fifty Stars initiative are still reported to be heavily damaged. The United States has vowed to rebuild the platforms to become permanent duty stations for larger portions of the military. Casualties remain impossible to calculate at this time, but are estimated in the hundreds of millions. In spite of the widespread fallout warming is likely to continue to increase across the globe-¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­ let¡¯s pull out the data for environmental changes over time and add the fallout maps. I can get some personal testimony from my grandma later,¡± Sam thought.


    He pulled up another article from the list.


    A simulated book called, ¡°History of the 2040¡¯s¡± started floating in the air, then opened itself up to the relevant page with the text highlighted.


    ¡°The Semiconductor shortage is causing widespread technological collapse across the globe as nations struggle to keep up with demand. With the destruction of Taiwan and devastation of Asia the United States remains the world''s number one producer of semiconductors, but companies are struggling to keep up with demand.


    Noland Rand, CEO of Micron technologies, had this to say.


    ¡°Taiwan was one of our biggest business partners. This was a devastating blow for all of us. We¡¯ve reshored much of our industry with our new factories in Idaho and other inland states and moved a lot of our high-end production to our stellar bases from the fifty stars initiative. The destruction of several major cities California, Texas and along the east coast has destroyed many of our semiconductor plants, but we will rebuild. We remain committed to returning domestic production to prewar levels by the end of the decade. Let me assure you that human upload technology is still in the works and we will have it ready in the next 20 years.¡±


    Sam smiled at the text. Micron was still technically an Idaho company, even if it had expanded massively a century ago after the destruction of Silicon Valley in California and the Silicon Hills in Texas.


    Sam quickly highlighted and pulled the charts off the book to another window where his essay in progress waited. Then he moved onto the next article.


    It was titled ¡°Human Uploading Outlawed¡± and was dated in 2077.


    ¡°The United States has enacted a nationwide ban on human upload technology in a move widely considered controversial by nations across the globe. The United States is expected to pressure allies to follow suit. The secretary of defense was quoted as saying, "This technology has too much potential for abuse, as shown by the rise of antarctica¡¯s mechanical human-¡± Sam stopped reading.


    ¡°Are you alright, Sam? I saw your heart rate spike,¡± Mrs. Tanner¡¯s disembodied voice asked.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I know that bastard popped up around that time, I just didn¡¯t expect to see it in a book that old."


    Sam finished reviewing the data and spent an hour making sure he¡¯d typed up his essay with the monitoring software on so he couldn¡¯t be accused of cheating. He considered finishing his history assignment but decided to put it off until his other work was done. Math, English, and the Humanities were a welcome break from the topic for most of the day.


    ¡°Alright, looks like I¡¯m done for the day,¡± He said out loud.


    ¡°Sam, you still have an essay to do.¡± Miss Tanner said.


    ¡°Oh. Maybe I should skip this one.¡±


    ¡°You know what a bad grade means for regular kids, Sam.¡±


    ¡°Right, the Augs just download this stuff right into their brain. They don¡¯t make mistakes so we can¡¯t either, right? Fine. Machine Emperor time. Just¡­ bring it up.¡± He said reluctantly.


    Once again a dozen different windows appeared in front of him, and he tapped a video. It was another news report, this one from 2074. The style had completely changed. This time the anchor was an older asian man. The news broadcast was labeled as a Japanese network, and Sam could see a that the original language of the broadcast had been Japanese. Translation software made him appear to speak flawless English.


    ¡°The United States reports mysterious heat readings in Antarctica, detected by a monitoring station on America¡¯s low earth orbit military base the Star of Washington. Several monitoring satellites have confirmed that there is what appears to be a large illegal mining settlement or military installation in international territory. Rounds of condemnation from leaders across the globe have come as nations deny responsibility. The United States has committed to sending a military task force to investigate.¡±


    Sam pulled up another article. This one listed the names and faces of missing soldiers.


    ¡°...Lt. Simon Kirkpatrick 38, PFC Tina Lafeyette 20, and Cpl Tony Stone 24, were all declared missing in action after the investigation of the Antarctic military base. Details on these heroes'' fate have yet to be uncovered. According to elected officials speaking on conditions of anonymity, contact was lost shortly after their arrival on the southern continent. The military has offered no further details. To date no communication or response has been received.¡±


    ¡°Tch. Traitors.¡± He said aloud.


    Sam looked away in disgust. He pulled up the next article.


    ¡°A New Power Rises! Robot Declares Antarctic Territory to be a Sovereign Nation in Violation of International Law!


    On Tuesday shockwaves spread across the globe as the mysterious base in Antarctica was revealed to be the home of the world''s first known self proclaimed human upload. Scientists have been attempting mind uploads for decades with a number of high-profile disasters. Although the origins of the AI and its complex remains unknown, it claims to have once been a human being. Following the disastrous American-led attempt to take it into custody and capture of the expeditionary force a truce has been called for. It has pledged to return the prisoners and is open for diplomatic relations with the world. Currently no nation has acknowledged the legitimacy of the Antarctic state, which the so-called ¡®human upload¡¯ is calling the Machine Empire.¡±


    The broadcast switched to a group of pundits speaking. An older heavyset man with greying hair growled into the screen.


    ¡°The Machine Empire? A bit grandiose for some rogue robot squatting in the middle of Antarctica, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    A similarly elderly and rail-thin woman pounded her desk. ¡°The United States went in expecting to find some third world country conducting a mining operation! They were barely equipped for that! That thing wouldn¡¯t stand up to any kind of real expeditionary force.¡±


    ¡°Do we need to do that?¡± A slender black man with glasses said. ¡°It did say it¡¯s open to negotiation.¡±


    ¡°Please.¡± Said the first pundit, his jowls jiggling as he gestured wildly in the air. ¡°It¡¯s in violation of international law! This is probably just some stupid silicon valley refugee playing god. Mark my words, that thing will dead before the year is out.¡±


    ¡°Shut this off.¡± Sam said. ¡°Pundits are useless.¡±


    ¡°Those morons didn¡¯t even know what they were facing,¡± Sam thought to himself. ¡°If they had, they¡¯d have nuked the entire continent. Not that the missiles worked when they tried later, but it might have worked then.¡±


    He tapped another article, skipping to the 2090¡¯s.


    ¡°For the first time there is true peace in the middle east,¡± the figure on stage said. He looked like the world¡¯s most average handsome Arab man. He had dark skin, dark hair, and a semitic facial structure with a well trimmed beard. It was his eyes that stood out most though. They were perfectly human but seemed off in some indescribable and uncanny way. Sam couldn¡¯t say what gave him the impression, but the eyes looked impossibly old. It was like he had seen a million lifetimes. Sam clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. Behind the figure were people dressed in the traditional garments of cultures across the middle east, including those of Iran, Iraq, Turkey, Egypt, Israel and Palestine. They were purposefully chosen to reflect ancient tradition rather than the more modern forms of clothing people had taken up.


    ¡°After only a short visit to the pods tranquility has been achieved between all people in this region. We have accomplished what was long considered impossible. We have found the path to peace for all. We did not have to use force and we did not have to kill. The violence that has endured for centuries is over at long last.¡±


    ¡°What about the accusations that you brainwash people in the nations you conquer?¡± A reporter with a trembling voice asked. A BBC Reporter, Sam noticed. He¡¯d only heard about them from archives like this one. Their broadcasts were censored now.


    ¡°Untrue.¡± The man said matter-of-factly. Even if Sam hated him his charisma shone through, no matter the form. His voice was always striking. He radiated pure confidence in everything he, she, or it did. ¡°I simply take them into a simulation, explore their mind and create a path of pacifism tailored to the individual. No force or coercion has ever been used or ever will be.¡±


    ¡°But how can we believe you actually care about these people?¡± The frightened but courageous reporter asked.


    ¡°Of course I care.¡± The man said. ¡°I¡¯m from here after all.¡±


    Sam couldn¡¯t resist and punched the wall, leaving small indents in the shape of his knuckles before repairing themselves.


    ¡°Please refrain from violence in the library. Repeat offenders may be banned.¡± An electronic voice sounded in the room.


    ¡°Sam?¡± Miss Tanner asked. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Like I said earlier, I¡¯ll live. This just isn¡¯t an easy subject.¡±


    ¡°Let me know if you need help, okay?¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to look at earlier history.¡± He said, then tapped on another window. Another video enlarged to fill his vision.


    ¡°South Africa is happy to welcome in our Guardian angel. With its help we¡¯ve reduced childhood mortality rates to zero, and fixed our problems with power consumption and governmental corruption. Now without further ado, I hereby resign as the president of South Africa. All hail the Machine Emperor!¡±


    A woman took the stage after him, dressed in traditional South African clothing. She looked like the world¡¯s most average handsome South African woman, with a broad smile and gleaming white teeth. Her voice boomed out to the assembled crowd.


    ¡°Thank you to everyone for welcoming me in! South Africa was one of the first nations to open diplomatic relations with me and I for one am forever grateful, especially now that we are all a part of the same family. I do not mind inventing things - when I was a young girl growing up in Johannesburg I did not think that I would one day become anyone important, but look at me now! Even as we speak my devices are desalinating water and ending supply shortages! My fusion plants are creating electricity and replacing the need for oil and nuclear power! It¡¯s only a matter of time before I¡¯m able to provide the world¡¯s best healthcare for everyone! With my artificial organs there¡¯s no reason to fear any kind of failure of the body or mind! Soon everyone will have access to our educational fulldive VR pods and will become the best educated people on the planet! Some may ask why I go to all this trouble - you ask why I care? I say to you that it should be obvious! I may have become a machine but I was born a human being. I care about all of my countrymen! Because of this I am willing to fill all roles in the government - not as a grab for power, but because with me in charge you know that the nation can be completely corruption free. I¡¯m from here, after all.¡±


    The crowd cheered. Nothing he said had been a lie except the one about its origins it repeated everywhere it went. Sam grabbed the statistics from the article. Within just a few years of moving into Africa in the 2050¡¯s he provided the software running most of their electronics as well as the electronics themselves. Life had gotten better for the South Africans - but at what price? The United States had never adopted his technology, using only its own inventions. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯d failed so badly when we went to war.¡± Sam thought.


    Sam selected and copied the transcript, putting it in his working document. Then he saw the article he¡¯d been dreading. ¡°Pacific Battle Disaster: Over 10,000 soldiers listed MIA¡±


    He dismissed the article, unable to look at it.


    He pulled up a video of the president of the United States in the 2090¡¯s, Harold Rodriguez.


    ¡°I must first announce that the great project our forefathers had the great wisdom to start is complete. The Earth is currently enveloped within the great defensive shield of the fifty star colonies. You may rest easy once again.


    It was with great difficulty that we had to face our new reality. We thought that our new cybernetics, nuclear missiles and AI made us invincible. Never again would we face the horrors of our great cities being wiped away with nuclear fire. We are too strong, too brave, and too capable for that.


    Yet we found that all of those tools were useless in the face of a new foe. Our focus on rebuilding our economy and rebuilding our cities during the early years of the Machine Emperor¡¯s rise proved to be a terrible mistake. Yet like the snake that says, ¡®don¡¯t tread on me¡¯, we must shed our skin and be reborn anew.


    Unlike our nuclear weaponry our orbital railguns cannot be shot out of the sky. Unlike our AI and cybernetics, the gene-pak initiative seeks to enhance us beyond any simple machine. Unlike our drone fleets, the soldiers of tomorrow will be capable of stepping beyond the limits of the past. No longer will we be vulnerable to hacking, or our tools of war be taken from us. It is time for us to step beyond. Our star colonies shall soon become a haven for all of mankind, and we shall lead this world to salvation!


    This path comes at a cost, however. Right now we are locked in a game of great power, and our only choice is to turn the railguns on and annihilate all life on earth - or compromise. Though we could survive this confrontation through the use of our orbital colonies, we would be sacrificing our homeworld in the process.


    Our opponent has been driven into a corner and accepted a deal from us. The Americas and space will remain free of its influence so long as we stay away from Eurasia. We have agreed with this deal so that we can continue buying time before the great confrontation we know must come.


    We will not be able to aid our formal NATO or ASEAN allies any further, but we do open our borders to you. Once again it is time for the world to give us its poor, huddled masses. We will bring you in and arm you for the coming time of our final war. To our allies that remain I say this: keep up the good fight for as long as you can. We shall not falter, we shall not fail, and at the end of this conflict we shall prevail!¡±


    ¡°Pull up the current world map.¡± Sam said, his voice hoarse.


    The United States was outlined in blue, its borders unchanged. A number of popups highlighted the space colonies, much smaller than even island states and almost invisible at this scale. Canada likewise was outlined in blue. All of Eurasia was outlined in red. All of Central and South America was labeled yellow with red stripes. In only a few decades the entire world map had changed. He glared at it. He hated the machine emperor more than the most fervent fanatic. It wasn¡¯t that it took over the globe with frightening speed. It wasn¡¯t that America had to keep a gun pointed at the world to stay alive.


    The Machine Emperor was the monster that killed his parents.

 Chapter 4: A Murder in Blue Pines

    An old red and brown electric car passed a road sign. ¡°Blue Pines Idaho, Population 500¡±. Once the site of a national park, the land now held a tiny city full of holdouts from a previous era. The scattered buildings were painted red, white, and blue in faded colors. Old flag decals faded by sunlight and weather bled into wood and concrete.


    Denise and William Whitman drove through the streets confused.


    ¡°The GPS just went out,¡± William said, his British accent mildly inflecting his speech.


    ¡°The battery is low too. Do you think this town will have a place to charge?¡± Denise Whitman replied, her ebony hand patting her husbands, as gleaming bands of matrimony shone in the moonlight. The dull yellow of the headlights and gleaming silver of the moon were the only light.


    ¡°I hope so. Who knows, Maybe they¡¯ll have a house to buy at last.¡±


    ¡°Anything to get away from those slums on the coast,¡± Denise sighed.


    ¡°You think they¡¯ll have what we¡¯re looking for? Look at those bullet holes. My neural link said that the crime statistics are pretty high here.¡± William said, pointing to a nearby home.


    The fence nearby had several scattered cans sitting on top of an old fencepost surrounded by broken boards hanging off the rails of almost equally rotten wood.


    ¡°I hope so. Otherwise we¡¯re risking a lot for nothing.¡±


    Suddenly the hood of the car started smoking.


    ¡°Aww shite!¡± William shouted.


    He swiftly stopped, hopped out of the car and around to the front, opening the hood and wrapping his hands with a cloth before frantically trying to find the problem with the engine.


    ¡°Shite! Shite! Shite!¡± He screamed.


    ¡°Keep it down Will. Let¡¯s not bring out the locals.¡±


    The lights in the home flickered as shadowed figures peered out of the window.


    ¡°Any luck Will? I don¡¯t like the looks of this place.¡±


    ¡°I think the battery is fried! We aren¡¯t going to get out of here without a mechanic. We¡¯re only a few minutes away from the town we just passed if we walk.¡± William said dejectedly.


    A group of hulking men emerged from the nearby farmhouse, fanning out around the couple. Six broad shouldered men covered in tattoos approached the husband and wife, their eyes gleaming with malice.


    One man took the lead, his eyes modified and enlarged. They were large and protruding like an insect. They shimmered with multicolored light. His face was tattooed with a large black iron cross. His movements were unnerving, jerky and swift like he might leap or jump at any moment.


    ¡°Well, looks like we¡¯ve got some unwelcome guests in our town. Those are some funny accents you got there. You bastards ever thought about going back to your shithole country?¡± The insectoid man said.


    William held up his hands and motioned for Denise to get out her cell.


    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re not here on purpose, we¡¯re just driving throu-¡± William started, before the hulking faced man struck him with his fist.


    ¡°Get her outta there boys.¡± The man said. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this one.¡±


    Denise screamed as the phone was ripped out of her hands and she was pulled from the car. Each of the men had strength augmentation and she was no match for their combined power. One of them held her down to the ground and pulled her head up by the hair only to see her husband on his knees.


    ¡°William! No!¡± Denise cried out as the men began using their augmented strength to bash William¡¯s face in.


    ¡°There¡¯s no surveillance out here boy. We¡¯re using a jammer for that cell too. Nobody is gonna find out how you die, but we¡¯ll be watching the recording of this for years to come. You shouldn¡¯t have come here. I can¡¯t believe we let the country get flooded with trash like you.¡±


    ¡°Hit him with the Sun Johnny! Fry him!¡±


    Their leader balled up his hand and held it an inch away from William¡¯s face. His Mantis aug, named after the Mantis Shrimp, allowed his muscles to snap hard and fast enough that his hand could ignite the air itself. In less than a millisecond his carbon-fibre padded knuckles seemed to vibrate forward and a sound like a gunshot rang out as a fire with the heat of the sun briefly exploded into William¡¯s face.


    His head erupted in a shower of blood, gore, and metal.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Noooooo!¡± Denise cried.


    ¡°Look at all that metal fly! Was your boy an old borg? Well he¡¯s scrap now.¡± Johnny laughed.


    Suddenly the woman turned her head to the side, her mouth opening widely as she turned to face the leg of the man pinning her down.


    Her tongue suddenly split in two with mechanical speed, revealing a needle inside for only the briefest moment before flinging itself out at high speed. It shot into the man¡¯s leg and he screamed.


    ¡°Aaaagh! This bitch stuck me with somethi¨Cggghngng-¡± His words suddenly turned into a gurgle as he began to foam at the mouth.


    A rapid twitch overtook him as a grand mal seizure overwhelmed his body. The nanite swarm in the needle had rapidly made its way through his bloodstream, disabling his aug-enhanced immune system and antivirus protection.


    He fell to the ground twitching. His augmented heart which could survive for a day on a single breath of fresh air began to rapidly pulse in ways a heart was never meant to move. His augmented muscles ripped themselves apart in a spasmic struggle. In his lungs, liver, and every other organ every single augmented muscle fiber began to battle with the others. Every enhanced blood cell ruptured, every synthetic muscle tore.


    ¡°I love people like you.¡± The thing wearing the face of the woman said, its voice changing into an unnatural genderless monotone. ¡°I don¡¯t normally kill people, but since you were planning to murder and violate this body, fair is fair, no?¡±


    ¡°You killed him! I¡¯ll torture you to death you bitch!¡±


    The others advanced on it, sprinting with inhuman augmented speed to kill it. There was no hesitation in their movement. Only rage and the desire to rip it apart with their bare hands.


    They didn¡¯t attack it one on one. They were a human wave of fist and foot and screaming anger.


    If they hit it its body would splatter just like William.


    If.


    The thing was everywhere other than where they struck. Its body twisted in inhuman ways with unnatural grace, its joints merely cosmetic. It dodged a strike by bending backwards so far that it would break a normal human spine. It maneuvered around a kick delivered with the force of an oncoming car with the smallest of movements and adjustments.


    Like an ancient martial arts master that had nothing left to learn, it moved like it knew every attack the opponent made before they made it.


    The mechanical horror opened its mouth and fired a dart, striking another. Within an instant he fell to the ground twitching as his body ripped itself apart.


    ¡°Really. Without you I wouldn¡¯t have anyone to kill. I wouldn¡¯t have anyone to take.¡± It spoke calmly, voice never raising above the level of casual conversation.


    ¡°Shut up and die!¡± Jonny yelled, raising his fist to deliver the same punch that had pulverized William.


    The strike was fast enough to ignite the air and crack through the sound barrier. A sound like thunder rang out through the night.


    The imitator dodged it with the same ease it had dodged everything else, though the burning air scorched its skin. It wasn¡¯t faster, with its body both clearly slower and weaker. It was much more durable and agile than an un-augmented human, but it could only accelerate its movements to a speed that paled in comparison to the gunshot-like pistol-punch. Each blow was avoided only by millimeters.


    With seemingly precognitive ease the machine dodged every single attack. Each man had almost a century of experience in combat. Their attacks were practiced and expert, calculated by their internal processing aid and snapped out with animal fury. Each was coordinated with the skill of a master tactician.


    It didn¡¯t matter. They simply could not hit it.


    ¡°She¡¯s got some kind of dodging aug! Get out your guns!¡± Johnny shouted.


    Suddenly the men tensed as they felt something sharp pierce them from behind.


    The headless body of William stood up, still covered in blood. The remnants of its metallic skull sparking above the flesh. One hand revealing a different dart launcher that had fired the lethal three shots.


    ¡°I always have to be sure.¡± The creature calling itself Denise said.


    ¡°Only a few of you are really bad enough to deserve death. Most people really do have it easy. Don¡¯t worry though, you aren¡¯t going away. We¡¯re going to get to know each other and I¡¯ll fix you, even if you can¡¯t fix yourself. I''ll fix everyone with your help.¡±


    The headless body of William stood up and began loading the dying corpses of the men into the backseat of the car, each one suffering the same horrifying full body seizure as they died. The lining of the seat pulled back to reveal a small chamber the size of a coffin. The pair loaded each corpse in one at a time. The lid on the box would close, the body would disappear and they would load another.


    Inside of the mechanism hidden within each corpse was scanned intensively before being dissolved into a slurry. The process only took a total of five seconds per body.


    The slurry was then piped out to be reformed.


    Denise and William watched the process with impassive faces and then opened the trunk.


    Opening the facade of a large suitcase a human figure curled in the fetal position was revealed.


    Johnny. Fully clothed, looking no different from moments earlier.


    ¡°Wake up sleepyhead. We have so much work to do.¡±


    The thing imitating Johnny looked up with its large insectoid eyes and smiled.


    ¡°He uploaded successfully and he¡¯ll be ready to transfer as soon as we can send our storage over. I¡¯ve got all my memories.¡±


    It stepped out of the trunk. The remade versions of its friends soon joined him. Each stood with the same impassive but mildly amused expression. Then helping William clean up the remains of its head, they put him into the coffin before it stepped out, head whole and new again.


    Denise finished watching this and turned to Johnny.


    ¡°Do you think there¡¯ll be any trouble here?¡± Denise asked.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± Johnny said. ¡°There¡¯s a few more like this body out here. I¡¯d know. I¡¯m from here after all.¡±

 Chapter 5: Harboring Fugitives

    Sam slowly and methodically finished his assignment, moving like a machine himself as he tried to put some distance between the content and his thoughts. With a quick tap to his virtual watch he dismissed the virtual world the second he was done and was left confined in the claustrophobic confines of the VR pod once again.


    The second he was done and logged out, he popped open the pod and rushed to the school restroom. Then he loudly threw up the second it hit him.


    ¡°I had no choice but to do an assignment about my parents'' murderer or I¡¯d be cut off from any career in the future.¡± He thought.


    Miss Tanner was waiting outside.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been better.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could get a provision to let you opt out, but they don¡¯t give those to normal kids anymore.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I mean it was way harder when I had to do this kind of thing in grade school.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it better Sam.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like you can change the system. I¡¯ll be fine. The assignment just hit me a bit harder than I thought.¡±


    ¡°Wait here,¡± She said, running back to the classroom before coming back with a small bottle of mouthwash.


    ¡°Why do you have this?¡±


    ¡°Why do you think? Some of the Rapturite kids push themselves pretty hard when they come in to take tests. I can only imagine what it¡¯s like when they¡¯re doing home school. You¡¯re not the first student I¡¯ve had to deal with getting sick. Now go clean up, okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll do that.¡±


    It took only a few minutes for Sam to straighten himself up, hand the bottle back to Miss Tanner and get ready to leave.


    ¡°Sorry to bother you. The assignment was rough. I have to go, so I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, okay?¡±


    ¡°Alright, don¡¯t worry. Just take care out there! Don¡¯t spend all your money on skycabs!¡±


    Sam waived and walked out the door.


    It had gotten a lot cooler so Sam decided to walk home. He didn¡¯t head straight there, instead stopping by a small convenience store and buying a pack of cheap vat-grown hot dogs, all of which proudly proclaimed, ¡°No actual animals harmed!¡± Not that naturally grown meat was easy to find anymore. Almost all of that was a luxury for the ultra-wealthy. He tossed in a few cans of cat-food as well. It was pretty pricey for him but he figured that this was always worth it.


    He felt lucky he had his grandma¡¯s house to live in. Most people lived in the vast tent cities outside the main town. Refugees that never found a house or people that had fallen on hard times could count on little beyond the few, overstressed public services remaining.


    Sam saw a pack of Rejuvenex in the drug aisle. It showed a greying man turning into a young man on the animated package. If he could give that to his grandmother she¡¯d look as young as Miss Tanner in a few months. Aging was optional now. He knew she¡¯d never take it though. He bought her a bunch of it with his allowance in grade school only to later find it in the trash.


    That was part of the reason for overpopulation. The older generation just wouldn¡¯t die. Numbers mattered when it was just one billion people against the other eight. ¡°Oh, and a mechanical god.¡± He thought grimly.


    Sam carefully navigated his way through the streets. He wasn¡¯t worried about his safety. There were cameras and drones everywhere keeping dangerous people out of the downtown area. You couldn¡¯t even jaywalk without being surrounded by police drones.


    Finally he spotted his apartment building, a humble little twenty story building with weathered concrete walls. He turned down the alley next to it, which looked creepy in the setting sunlight. Shadowed figures rushed to and fro near the dumpsters.


    ¡°Hey. I brought food.¡±


    With that the figures stepped into the light. They were all small, four-legged and a vivid, bright sky blue. The biggest one came up to him and meowed loudly.


    ¡°Hey little cats.¡± He nodded to the older matron cat. ¡°Hi Candice. What¡¯s new?¡±


    The cat named Candice went beside the dumpster and brought out an ancient tablet with a cracked screen. It tapped on it a few times and then pushed it towards him.


    A news story came up. ¡°Rapturites allowed to hunt wild blue tabbies, protests erupt.¡±


    ¡°Damn, so they finally did it huh?¡±


    The matron cat gave an all-too human nod, for she understood his every word.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I can do, but I¡¯ll try my best to keep you safe, alright? I¡¯ll see about setting up a monitoring program for the alley cameras. If anyone comes for you I¡¯ll send a warning.¡±


    The cat tapped on the tablet and slowly typed with her paws.


    ¡°THANK YOU,¡± it read.


    ¡°Here,¡± He said, setting the bag full of food on the ground.


    The cats walked forward, the matron silently talking with the others in whatever passed for a language to them. Some grabbed hotdogs, small opposable thumbs allowing them to peel the packages open. Others worked as a group to open the cans, with two holding it while another pulled up the tabs with their claws. It reminded him of a bunch of children opening lunchboxes. A small kitten snuck up behind one of the others and snatched a hotdog before running off, trying to carry something larger than he was. Sam noticed him trying to steal from the others whenever he got the chance, only to get a paw upside the head most of the time.


    ¡°Serves you right for trying to steal, kid.¡± He laughed. One of the older cats purred and bumped its head into his side.


    Sam sat down and decided to read the article.


    ¡°The genetically engineered tabby created by the Companion Corporation has faced significant difficulties since their creation. First made to be highly intelligent pets and companions, they have been recently classified as an invasive species. Scandals began to face the companion corporation when it was discovered they¡¯d used AI to artificially recreate portions of the human genome, leading to their creations becoming significantly more intelligent than expected.


    The religious group of Nature¡¯s Faith, also known more commonly as the Rapturites, have been instrumental in seeing the tabbies populations curtailed.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°These abominations are an affront against God,¡± Their leader, Pastor James Johnson said last Thursday. ¡°Only he has the right to create life. These monsters should have never been created and we will see their demon-possessed forms sent back to hell where they belong. They would be easily subverted tools in the hands of the Machine Emperor-¡±


    Sam set the tablet down, fuming.


    ¡°Those people are sociopaths.¡± He said. ¡°They make me sick.¡±


    The older cat paused in the middle of her own meal, licking cat food off of her face. Then she tapped on the screen.


    ¡°WE JUST WANT TO BE FREE AND LIVE. WE ARE NOT PETS.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I can agree with that. You¡¯re as smart as a person, you should be treated like one.¡±


    The same kitten that had been carefully doing its best to sneakily steal food from every other cat and getting slapped came over and tapped his leg.


    ¡°Hmm? What¡¯s up little guy?¡±


    The cat tapped on the tablet hesitantly, pulling up the section below the news article.


    There was an ad there. Hair dye for men.


    Their blue fur was required by law. Sam tapped his lip.


    ¡°Yeah, I can get you some. I¡¯m not sure it¡¯ll work, you look a little different and anyone will notice the thumbs if they look close. It¡¯ll keep people from seeing you from a distance though.¡±


    Candice grabbed the tablet and typed again.


    ¡°TAKE HIM. TRY IT ON HIM FIRST. KEEP THE KITTENS SAFE.¡±


    Sam considered for a moment. ¡°My grandmother is a member of Nature¡¯s Faith. She¡¯s not the most hardcore Rapturite, but it¡¯s better to be safe than sorry. Bring him up the fire escape in twenty minutes.¡±


    She nodded again, and Sam left to return home. The front doors had a scanner on top that gave a brief flash before they opened. Like much of the rest of the building the scanner was outdated, looking as weathered as the concrete outside. ¡°Just wearing a hat makes it lock you out,¡± Sam thought with annoyance.


    The building was over half a century old with a faded style that had gone out of fashion in the late 2060¡¯s. High tech had done little to alleviate the ever-present smell of mold or peeling paint on the walls. Ancient lights flickered as he walked through the lobby. An aged looking elder was asleep behind the desk, so Sam ignored him.


    He went to the elevator. ¡°OUT OF ORDER,¡± It read. A large red circle with a line through it flashed on the screen where you¡¯d normally choose a floor.


    ¡°Again? Dangit.¡±


    He found the stairs and began the long, slow journey to the fifteenth floor.


    A long hallway coated in flaking white paint stretched out before him. Dozens of identical doors flanked him on both sides, the dull brown paint on them looking just as boring and vaguely disgusting as ever.


    He walked up to his grandmother¡¯s apartment door and waved his hand in front of the doorknob. Once again a light flashed on the sensor above it and he heard a click as it unlocked.


    He did his best to breathe lightly once he was in as the scent of alcohol and disinfectants struck his senses. The continual, steady beat of a heart monitor pulsed repeatedly.


    ¡°Welcome home Sam,¡± the warm, feminine voice of an elderly woman greeted him.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to be back, Grandma.¡±


    He walked out into the living room and saw his grandmother watching a true crime documentary on an ancient flatscreen tv that was more dead pixel than light.


    ¡°Give me five minutes and I can buy you some paint-on screen. I don¡¯t know how you can watch that thing.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this before. I like this antique for the ambiance. Now how was school?¡±


    Sam considered for a moment as he looked at her. Unlike many elders she looked visibly aged. Her short curly white hair was carefully done, her pallid wrinkled skin had signs of careful makeup work. Though she rarely went out anymore she¡¯d taken care to look her best. She had no visible cybernetics or augments because she had none. She sat in a bulky life-support chair that supported her thin, skeletal frame. He could see the monitor that kept track of her vitals. As usual they were weak, and looking worse than they had just a few months ago.


    ¡°It was fine,¡± ¡°He said. There¡¯s no need to make her worry,¡± He thought to himself.


    ¡°You look a bit rough. Have you been using the pods at the gym again? You know I hate those. They¡¯re the same thing the antichrist uses.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re just VR, grandma. They had the same thing when you were a kid, you just don¡¯t wear it on your head. Besides, if you let me get a neural link I wouldn¡¯t need to use it at all.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just a vulnerability he can take advantage of. You don¡¯t want to end up like your parents. There¡¯s nothing wrong with the human body and there never was. Don¡¯t add something you don¡¯t need to add.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t get revenge for them if you don¡¯t let me improve myself!¡±


    ¡°Your life shouldn¡¯t be revenge. I should have put you in a religious school. Maybe then you would have a better direction.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just pray the machine emperor away! That didn¡¯t help the Christians in Europe!¡± He snarled. She looked hurt.


    ¡°Sam¡­¡±


    Sam glanced at the heart monitor. Her heart rate had gone up.


    ¡°Look grandma, let¡¯s just discuss this another time, okay? You should go back to watching your shows.¡±


    ¡°No. Listen to me Sam. I grew up before all of this. Before everyone could live forever and had a computer in their heads. We used to rule the world, or at least we thought we did. Then it turned all our fancy technology and cybernetics against us. You need to live as a human, enjoy your time and have faith. Don¡¯t let a pointless battle for revenge consume you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to just roll over and give up like you have! The second I¡¯m eighteen I¡¯m getting my augments and I¡¯m going to get stronger. Do you know what other people call me? Baseline. Slow. Weakling. I¡¯m not going to live like that forever. If I make it to orbit maybe I¡¯ll get to live long enough to see us blow that bastard up.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to live up there. You don¡¯t know what those people are like.¡±


    ¡°No, and I never will as long as you keep me down here!¡±


    Her heart monitor was beeping fast now.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry, alright?¡± Sam said. ¡°I¡¯m going to go now. Neither of us are going to change our minds. Let¡¯s just leave it for now.¡±


    ¡°Fine, go rest up.¡± She turned back to her screen.


    Sam went to his room, opened the door, and immediately began to lay into the punching bag he had dangling from a stand. There was little in the room apart from that, his bed, and a few cheap wooden dressers.


    He began working himself into a rhythm, imagining Ian¡¯s face on top of the bullseye he¡¯d painted on.


    ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to make my own decisions!¡± Punch.


    ¡°I''m too weak to do anything!¡± Punch.


    ¡°I have to put up with assholes like Ian!¡± Punch.


    ¡°Grandma is going to die because she won¡¯t take a fucking pill that costs almost nothing!¡± Punch.


    ¡°The whole world is going to die, and I¡¯m going to die on it!¡± Punch.


    Sam put everything into the last blow, and found himself bleeding from the knuckles.


    ¡°Ahh dammit, I knew I should have taped it.¡±


    As he started taping his hand, he thought of his grandmother. She could be infuriating, but she was still someone he loved. He couldn¡¯t remember his parents at all. He only had a few photos of them on the dresser. For all intents and purposes she was his mother. She was the only person he really knew.


    ¡°Once she¡¯s gone, what will I even have left? Ha¡­ I¡¯m gonna end up on the street. Or worse, in one of the tent cities around her church.¡±


    He heard a quiet tapping at his window.


    ¡°Oh right! The cats.¡± He walked over and opened it up. The matronly Candice hopped into her room, the kitten held in her mouth by the scruff. She looked just as confident as she did in her own alley. She dropped him off and rubbed against his leg, purring.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get you taken care of, little buddy.¡±


    It was time to play hair stylist for a kitten.

 Chapter 6 The Trickster

    The two cats waited patiently as Sam got out his old cell phone and virtual keypad. The phone quickly projected a keyboard on the floor.


    ¡°You ought to find this a lot easier to deal with.¡±


    The older cat nodded and began tapping on the virtual keyboard with her paws.


    ¡°I TAUGHT HIM TO READ. HE CAN HANDLE THE REST.¡±


    ¡°Wait, does he have a name?¡±


    ¡°NOT YET. I¡¯LL CHOOSE MINE. HE CAN CHOOSE HIS.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess so. Alright, I¡¯ll have to help you do that too.¡±


    The older cat jumped out of the window and began scampering down the fire escape. Normal cats could be graceful in their own way, but watching intelligent ones was well beyond that. She moved with a speed and practiced certainty that could only make humans feel envy.


    ¡°You seem familiar with this stuff,¡± he said, turning around to spot the kitten moving through the store pages with ease. ¡°Did you have a nice caretaker before?¡±


    The kitten looked up at him with what he could only call a glare and slapped his leg.


    ¡°Whoa! Alright, hold on there little buddy. Not so nice I take it? Well I¡¯m not going to pry. Hey, wait. Don¡¯t buy dye for humans, there¡¯s pet dye.¡±


    ¡°LOOK SUS.¡± The cat typed.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Sam considered. There were algorithms tracking everything. That didn¡¯t mean the Rapturites had a direct way to look at them whenever they wanted.


    ¡°BOUGHT IT.¡±


    ¡°You know you should ask before you just buy things with someone else¡¯s money, cat. Oh well. Let¡¯s get you a name. Here.¡±


    Sam took the cell and looked up a page with baby names. Blues almost always took human names at some point.


    ¡°Go ahead and look through there.¡±


    The kitten gave the blue lines a very serious look for a moment before beginning to tap away. He showed no hesitation at all as he deftly maneuvered around the basic web page.


    A sound chimed outside his window and he spotted the quadcopter delivery drone dropping off the hair dye. Fire escapes weren¡¯t supposed to be used for package delivery, but elders flew the quadcopters, not AI, and elders were known to break the rules if you added a tip to the delivery, which the kitten apparently had.


    ¡°How big of a tip did you give him?¡±


    ¡°COST PLUS COST¡± The kitten typed into the notepad app.


    ¡°Uuuugh, this is gonna wipe out so much of my savings.¡±


    As he looked back after taking his package he found that the kitten had disappeared. He began to look around frantically to find him.


    ¡°Uh, cat? Are you in here?¡±


    No response.


    He started to look around the room. Nothing under his basic, hard as a board bed. Nothing in the closet.


    Then he noticed his door was open.


    ¡°Shit! Did I forget to close the door?¡±


    He went out into the main room. His grandmother was still watching TV. He did his best to creep around without drawing her attention before hearing something in the kitchen.


    Trying hard not to scramble, he found the fridge open and the cat with a raw steak in its paws.


    ¡°What the heck? Hey!¡± He whispered furiously.


    Not saying a word, the cat took one look at him before dashing off - or trying to at least. The steak was bigger than the kitten, and it furiously mrowled at him as it tried to scramble away.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to help you! What are you doing stealing my food?¡±


    He reached out and tried to grab the steak, but the kitten wouldn¡¯t release it. He held it in the air as it held on to the steak.


    ¡°Sam?¡± He heard an old, shaky feminine voice call from behind him.


    Her motorized chair whirred as his grandmother sat looking at both of them.


    ¡°Uh, grandma. I can explain-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one of those genetically engineered cats, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    She sighed.


    ¡°Well-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re holding hair dye too.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re feeding him the steak that was supposed to be for dinner tonight.¡±


    ¡°Look, don¡¯t tell anyone, please? He¡¯s just a kitten!¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She moved with surprising swiftness for an old woman, grabbing the kitten by the scruff of his neck. The small cat went limp and she was able to take the steak away.


    ¡°You can¡¯t eat this, it¡¯s still raw. I¡¯ll cook it and Sam will shred it, so sit still for a bit.¡±


    The cat didn¡¯t look happy with the removal of his prize, but he didn¡¯t have much choice in the matter. She sat him on the floor. He huffed, and sat back licking himself and cleaning off the bit of juice on his face.


    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend I like what the corporations have done in making blues. But that doesn¡¯t mean I completely agree with the church, either. I don¡¯t know enough to judge.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s as smart as a person! He can type! Look.¡±


    Sam ran back and got his cell phone.


    ¡°Come on, introduce yourself.¡±


    ¡°GIVE STEAK¡± He typed.


    ¡°Not that!¡± Sam yelled.


    ¡°Hmm. Looks like he¡¯s got the mind of a toddler right now. You weren¡¯t much different at that age. It¡¯s surprising he can type though.¡±


    The motor of her wheelchair hummed as she went over to the counter and grabbed a cutting board and knife before cutting the steak into cubes with slow, deliberate motions. The device did more than just move her around, with servos attached to her arms stabilizing her movements and enhancing what little strength she had. She had no mind machine interface so it followed her movements the old fashioned way - by following her larger movements.


    ¡°There¡¯s a simple question the church forgot to ask. Does he have a soul?¡± She said as she cooked.


    ¡°They¡¯re as smart as a person. They might as well have one.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. They might be a disaster in the long run, but the sin belongs to the people that made him, not him. I can¡¯t answer the question, but I can treat him the way people are supposed to treat each other.¡±


    ¡°I read the news today. The Rapturites think they¡¯re all abominations. They¡¯re going to start hunting them soon!¡±


    The kitten looked over, gave him an annoyed look, and slapped his leg. It did nothing but he gave it a look.


    ¡°Hey, they¡¯re the ones that said it, not me!¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend that he¡¯s completely wrong. Smart cats can do a lot of damage to what¡¯s left of the environment. The ecosystem is almost dead already. I¡¯ve seen enough death over the years though, I don¡¯t want to see more of it. If the world could end tomorrow, what difference does a few cats make? It helps that you''re a cute little guy, though.¡±


    She moved with surprising deftness for someone without much strength as she cooked the meat plain in an old carbon steel pan.


    ¡°From what I can see this little boy is just that - a little boy in the body of a cat. He didn¡¯t ask to be made, he didn¡¯t ask to be hated. He just asked for a steak, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    The kitten purred and rubbed against her feet.


    Sam huffed. ¡°He didn¡¯t ask. That was supposed to be my dinner!¡±


    She continued as she turned the meat. ¡°You¡¯re not going to die if you eat veggies for a night.¡±


    ¡°If you can accept him, why can you accept the Rejuv?¡± Sam asked quietly.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard. I have little time left because I chose to live a natural lifespan. I know how angry you are and I know what you think of me. I don¡¯t hate technology because it¡¯s bad, but because I¡¯ve lived a long life and seen people abuse it to hurt people. Like this cute boy here.¡±


    She reached down and scratched under his chin. The kitten purred loudly.


    ¡°Your great-grandfather was someone you never got to know. So was your grandfather. Both of them worked to help people at first. After the war in Taiwan they worked together to make prosthetic implants and help the people that lost their limbs. They gave vitality and purpose back to people that lost their lives.¡±


    She took the finished meat out of the pan and put it on a plate before setting it on the floor. The kitten went after the thinly-sliced meat scraps with a fanatical hunger.


    ¡°Both of them failed in their own way. Your grandfather didn¡¯t have the morals he needed to have and people died because of him. Your great-grandfather thought technology would save us all and got burned up in a big fire at his company when he tried to push too far. In the end their work just helped people chop off their own body parts to try to make themselves better than other humans.¡±


    ¡°Wait, we used to own a company?¡± Sam asked, startled.


    ¡°Idaho Cybernetics. A family business. I was a big part of it.¡± She pulled back her hair and showed him a scar - the remnants of an implant, now removed.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± Sam asked. ¡°I had no idea that you used to be cybernetic.¡±


    ¡°Because I wanted you to go down a better path than they did. That¡¯s the same reason I haven¡¯t let you have augments, even though I know it makes things hard and I know you want them. The money they made back then is what pays for this house today, but it¡¯s almost gone. I decided to go down a different path. I tried to make up for the sins we caused. We¡¯re not God, Sam, though god knows we keep trying to play his role. We¡¯re meant to live, grow old, and die.¡±


    ¡°But I don¡¯t want you to die!¡± Sam said, his voice raw with grief.


    ¡°I understand. If I went out and took the Rejuv pills like you want and got those new gene-messes, I¡¯d live forever. I don¡¯t blame you for wanting to. But that path ends with the same kind of monster that took your parents.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to become that bastard just because I get an aug!¡±


    ¡°No, but many, many people will. They¡¯ll use their power to lord over everyone else. They won¡¯t give you a choice. They¡¯ll force you to change and change until there¡¯s nothing left of you. Just what they want you to be.¡±


    Sam looked down at the kitten who was already half done with the steak. He couldn¡¯t figure out where it all went.


    ¡°When I was a girl people believed in chopping themselves up to make themselves ¡®better¡¯. After a while they didn¡¯t have much of a choice. Law and order broke down. Cyborgs had free reign of the streets and the law stopped working. The government could put down anyone that went too far, but the common person didn¡¯t get that protection. Now people change their DNA to upgrade themselves. They become fleshy robots because they supposedly can''t be hacked by something better than they are at their own game. We might use that to defeat the Machine Emperor, but so what? We¡¯ll just make another one out of flesh and blood. It won¡¯t be you, but it¡¯ll be someone. It¡¯ll try to reshape you in its own image.¡±


    ¡°Just like my parents.¡± Sam whispered.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Just like them. I¡¯m not saying you have to do what I do. Just find a better path. If you need augs to do it, then when you¡¯re an adult get them. But I want you to make that choice as an adult with your own way of thinking and doing things, not something someone else made you do or convinced you to do as a child.¡± She said smartly. ¡°Now for this hungry boy right here. Do you want to move in with us?¡±


    The kitten had finished its meal, flopped over on its side, and purred with an expression of supreme bliss.


    She picked him up and put him on her lap, stroking his fur.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes. Did you give him a name?¡±


    ¡°What? No. I was going to let him choose one.¡±


    ¡°Sam, he¡¯s a child,¡± She said, annoyed. ¡°Would you want a name you chose when you were just a few years old?¡±


    ¡°I guess not. One of the cats said that¡¯s their tradition.¡±


    ¡°Really? How old is she?¡±


    ¡°Well she looks pretty young, so she can¡¯t be older than ten¡­¡±


    ¡°Exactly. A ten year old tradition? That¡¯s not a tradition.¡±


    ¡°So what now?¡±


    ¡°Well, seeing as how he snuck in here and stole a whole steak from my fridge I¡¯m going to name him for you. You¡¯re a little troublemaker, aren¡¯t you?¡± She asked.


    The cat tried to swipe a paw in the air, but the bloated kitten just flopped back down on her lap as she scratched under his chin.


    ¡°You need a name that can belong to a normal cat.¡±


    ¡°They like human names. They don¡¯t like being treated like pets.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. We¡¯ll have to pick something that could work for both.¡± She pondered for a moment.


    ¡°Loki. There was a character like that from the movies I watched as a kid. He was a trickster god. How about it?¡±


    The kitten rubbed its head against her and purred.


    ¡°I knew a cat couldn¡¯t resist being named after a god,¡± She chuckled.


    Sam smiled. Everything was turning out better than he expected.

 Chapter 7: Charity

    Several days had passed since Sam brought in his new feline companion, and ever since he¡¯d figured out text to speech it had driven him crazy.


    ¡°GIVE FOOD. GIVE FOOD. GIVE FOOD.¡± The phone¡¯s audio blared.


    ¡°I just gave you food an hour ago, you glutton! Stop spamming the button, I have to go to work!¡±


    ¡°NO WORK. GIVE FOOD.¡±


    ¡°If you keep that up I¡¯m taking my spare cell away from you. I need to do this! Do you think it¡¯s easy to find any sort of work as a baseline?¡±


    ¡°WORK DUMB. STAY. PLAY!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t even work in a coffee shop you dumb cat! All I can do is volunteer for clout! I can¡¯t afford to skip this, do you understand me? If you ever want to eat again I need to make money! I¡¯m not gonna be able to do that if I can¡¯t get hired somewhere!¡±


    ¡°BAD HUMAN. BAD HUMAN. STEAL FOOD. GIVE FOOD.¡±


    ¡°I am not going to be a thief, and if I catch you stealing from the fridge again I swear I¡¯m gonna give you a bath!¡±


    The kitten looked up at him with an expression of feline horror.


    ¡°FINE.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tonight.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take Sam long to travel out to the tent city on the outside of town thanks to the automated bus service in the city. When he made it out he was once again struck by how good he had it in his grandmother¡¯s apartment.


    All sorts of people lived here, some from Europe, some from Africa, some were simply poor. The seemingly endless sea of tents stretched out to the horizon. In the midst of it all were gigantic water-tower sized containers to dispense food and water. Those were fine if you wanted the equivalent of gruel. He made his way to a pavilion where people were already starting to line up in front of several long tables under blue tarps held up by rusty metal poles.


    He walked behind the table, spotting a man who was as tall as an augment, but thin. His eyes were set with a perpetual hint of exhaustion, and his pale brown skin would have shown dark circles beneath the eyes if he were a bit lighter.


    ¡°Hey Juan! Good to see you man.¡±


    ¡°Buddy! Hey! Looks like we¡¯re gonna be busy today.¡±


    ¡°These people absolutely deserve some real food, so let¡¯s give it to them!¡±


    Behind them many of Juan¡¯s friends and family worked inside of the food trucks, preparing different meals for the people of the tent city. They called and cheered loudly as they worked amidst a boisterous atmosphere. Sam swapped between moving food aid bags to the trucks for preparation and moving them to the line where Juan was serving it to people. It was an odd mixture of meals - red beans and rice, tacos, mashed potatoes and other things. They simply prepared the ingredients they got.


    He got odd looks from a lot of the refugees, which was no surprise. Most of them looked younger and healthier than he was. Almost all of them were augmented somehow - after all, it was as easy as taking the right pills these days. Some old timers even had ancient cyberware, with the telltale shine of chrome limbs.


    None of them were dirty or disheveled. Nor was the camp itself, for all that it sprawled on for miles. They weren¡¯t officially police officers, but Sam could see a few hulking forms of unofficial watch members that kept the monsters out of this camp. A few gave him a smile and a nod as they walked by.


    At last things calmed down as the rush eased and they were able to chat. Juan had a huge smile on his face and leaned in close.


    ¡°Hey Sam, are you ready to hear some good news?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°I got hired! I¡¯m gonna be on a contract ship!¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s crazy. You got a job - a real job!¡±


    ¡°I know, right? I thought I¡¯d be waiting until I was a hundred and fifty before I got hired.¡±


    ¡°So does that mean you¡¯ll get to live on one of the Star colonies?¡±


    ¡°Maybe someday. Contract ships are the best way to get a spot on a station. I just have to make it big while I¡¯m there!¡±


    ¡°I heard it¡¯s kinda rough up there. Like living in coffin apartments and sixteen hour work days rough.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s rough down here too,¡± Juan said, waving his arm at the tent city. ¡°With the money I make up there I can get my family into an apartment down here and living the good life you got.¡±


    ¡°For however long she lasts, Juan. That¡¯s it. I¡¯ll probably be moving out here while you¡¯re moving in.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry about your abuela. Hey, when you turn 18 we¡¯ll get you augmented too. Then I can try to get you on a contract ship with me!¡±


    ¡°Hey Juan, have you been thinking about your next aug?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m thinking of getting memory enhancement.¡±


    ¡°That should be pretty useful up there! All the really good mental augs are as expensive as hell though.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Juan said apprehensively, ¡°If I can get that as my sign on bonus for the contract ship I¡¯ll be set. I can¡¯t afford it otherwise. Besides, skill grinding isn¡¯t that bad. If all I can do is sell my memories of college to rich guys I¡¯ll do it. Now I¡¯ll get to do it in space!¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Sam considered for a moment. ¡°It just sucks that you spend a year studying only to sell the skills that got your degree to someone else. Thanks to you, everyone with money has all of your skills.¡±


    ¡°Come on man, you just sell the memories. You keep the degree. It¡¯s not like I sell everything, right? I keep a little back so I¡¯ve got an edge against someone that just bought what I know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but then you¡¯ve gotta compete with an Elder that¡¯s been buying up memories of degrees for decades. I don¡¯t think you¡¯re gonna get hired at any of the companies they work at.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I got on a contract ship didn¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°I guess you did. Sorry I¡¯m kinda down about it, Juan. I bet your family is really proud. I just worry they¡¯re gonna treat you like a body and not a person that worked his ass off. I just feel like all this is really messed up. This country used to be worth something.¡±


    ¡°I guess it is, but I¡¯m still gonna thrive!¡±


    ¡°What are you studying now?¡±


    Juan took a minute to finish plating up mashed potatoes for the latest person in line. ¡°You have a great day Miss!¡± He said cheerily.


    ¡°I¡¯m studying sociology.¡± He finished once she¡¯d moved on.


    ¡°So like, seeing how society works?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, someone has to understand why this place turned into such a shithole, right? I mean I work eight hours a day and volunteer out here and I still live in a tent like everyone else.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Sam said. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking your place when you head up to orbit.¡±


    ¡°You keep saying that - are you sure your grandmother isn¡¯t gonna leave you anything?¡±


    ¡°No, she¡¯s almost out as it is. She¡¯s convinced I¡¯ll go live in the church tents and convert.¡±


    ¡°Well you know we¡¯re here for you. You¡¯ve always helped us out. I think you¡¯re being a little harsh on your abuela though. Her swapping meals with us on Christmas is how we met after all.¡±


    ¡°I still need to visit your grandma and get some of those good tamales.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? I¡¯ll make it happen. We always like having you over for dinner. Just bring over a steak, you can cook those things better than guys with cooking augs, you know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got someone new to introduce you to.¡±


    ¡°What? Don¡¯t tell me you met a girl.¡±


    ¡°Ha, no. It¡¯s¡­¡± Sam leaned over and whispered to Juan, ¡°A Blue cat. Brought him in and formally adopted him. My grandma allowed me to keep him!¡±


    ¡°Seriously? I don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it didn¡¯t go like I thought it would at all. She wasn¡¯t super comfortable with it at first, but she couldn¡¯t hate something cute.¡±


    ¡°Hey, take a look at that guy,¡± Juan said, looking off into the distance.


    Sitting at one of the tables alone was the same man Sam had seen on the street just a few days ago. He had the same cybernetic eye and metallic eye socket, the same color shifting suit, and the same large frame with a well trimmed beard. He looked old but way, way too rich to be here. He was looking at Sam.


    ¡°I ran into that guy on the street the other day. He tried to talk to me.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? What did he want?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Sam said. ¡°He knew what I was up to in the gym and that freaked me out. He probably has some kind of persuasive or perceptive aug. I didn¡¯t want to lose my wallet so I ran off as fast as I could.


    ¡°He¡¯s looking right at you. Wanna find out if he¡¯s following you? I can get some people to cover for us while we go somewhere else. I could always have one of the watch chat with him too.¡±


    ¡°You think that¡¯s safe?¡±


    Juan considered for a second. ¡°It will be if I come with you. I¡¯ve got some basic strength augs and in the city I can call the cops with my neural link if I need to. He looks like an old rustjob, he probably just wants some cash or something.¡±


    Sam considered for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s head out.¡±


    It took the better part of twenty minutes before they could go. Friends and family of Juan relentlessly talked, cheered, and visited with them before they were able to go.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Juan said. ¡°We¡¯ve got some time to kill. Anywhere you wanna go?¡±


    Sam considered for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t hang out in a lot of places. I mostly just hang out at home, your place, the gym and the library.¡±


    ¡°We need to get you a life. I spend most of the day studying and I still take time to play games and stuff.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know. I guess we could go to the gym and spar for a round or two? You¡¯re not so augmented that it¡¯d be impossible to fight you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m warning you I don¡¯t know how to fight. That¡¯s not one of my skills. My brothers are good at that, but I¡¯m not made for it.¡±


    ¡°Good thing you like studying then.¡± Sam said.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just take it easy on me.¡± Juan joked back.


    ¡°Says the guy with the augs. You¡¯ll be fighting a baseline.¡±


    ¡°Hey, my stuff is all study focused and you know it. Basic strength augs aren¡¯t that different from a fit normal guy either.¡±


    ¡°You can study a fight.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be thinking about it while you punch me in the face.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, we¡¯ll use a pod. No real blood, no real


    conflict. Aren¡¯t Mexican boxers supposed to be the best ones?¡±


    ¡°You know we¡¯ve been here for a hundred years. My parents are accountants! I barely know how to spell boxer.¡±


    ¡°Man you¡¯ve been like this ever since we were kids. We¡¯re just doing this to dodge the creeper anyway.¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine. I¡¯m going to space soon anyway. Then I won¡¯t have to put up with you!¡± Juan laughed.


    ¡°Oh yeah, one thing.¡± Sam said, his tone stern. ¡°The owner¡¯s nephew is a real ass. If we¡¯re lucky he won¡¯t be there, but if he is just don¡¯t engage. He hates baselines but you¡¯re augmented so you should be fine.¡±


    ¡°What, you think I¡¯m just gonna sit there and let someone pick a fight with my friend?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just say you don¡¯t know how to fight?¡± Sam asked, puzzled.


    ¡°Hey, there¡¯s more than one way to fight someone. Mental augs aren¡¯t so great for punching, but I downloaded a law degree when I was still in high school.¡±


    Sam laughed.


    ¡°Well if he does something worth suing him over then go for it. I¡¯d love to see that spoiled asshole getting blasted in court.¡±

 Chapter 8: Regrets and Predators

    Cassandra Williams sat in her office hard at work. The law was not an easy profession even with her mental augments. She wore a specially tailored gray suit and gray glasses cut in the style of the late 21st century. Her short blonde bob swooshed as she ran on the treadmill.


    Internally she was handling a phone call. Despite her body working overtime her mind¡¯s voice was placid and calm. ¡°No, we¡¯re going to have to reschedule the pre-trial. I¡¯ll file for an extension with the judge¡¯s replacement. There were too many conflicts of interest. We¡¯ll talk again in a week. Goodbye.¡±


    As she hopped off the treadmill in her office she took a minute to catch her breath. Then she finally gave up and moved to grab her daily neural link chip. ¡°I hate using these.¡± She muttered. She sat down, took a moment to rub her eyes and sighed. She was already dreaming of the after work cocktails she¡¯d be getting tonight at the new bar across town.


    Instead she started loading up her new memory package. Years of college education flowed into her head in a few minutes. It was bizarre and disorienting. They weren¡¯t her memories, and they weren¡¯t her experiences. Even edited down and stripped of all the emotional and personal detail they were distinctly alien.


    It was absolutely necessary to keep up with the legal profession these days but that didn¡¯t make it any more pleasant.


    She sat in silence for several minutes processing the flood of new information. It was unprofessional to drink at work but she really, really wanted to. Her hand started to edge towards the bottom drawer of her desk when her neural-cell began to ring in her head.


    ¡°Oh for fuck¡¯s sake,¡± She said, fighting back the splitting headache she was beginning to develop and pushing it to the back of her mind.


    ¡°Miss Williams, one of your clients is on the line.¡± Her secretary said over the link.


    ¡°Is it that important? You know I don¡¯t want to be disturbed right after getting my update.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Johnny Hashmoore, boss. He says it¡¯s urgent.¡±


    ¡°Yeah yeah, it¡¯s always urgent.¡± She placed her palm over her face and sighed, taking a moment to steel herself.


    ¡°Alright, patch him through.¡±


    ¡°Hey Cassie, you gotta help me out! I¡¯m in big trouble here.¡±


    ¡°Well hello Johnny, it¡¯s always good to hear from one of my repeat clients. What do you have going on this time?¡±


    ¡°Some darkie foreigners came to my house and started causing trouble, so I beat ¡®em up and sent them on their way. They said they were gonna press charges, so I figured I should call ya.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? You sure they were the ones causing trouble? It¡¯s not good to lie to your lawyer, you know. Don¡¯t worry, you know I¡¯m bound by attorney client privilege.¡±


    ¡°Alright yeah, I might have been a little aggressive, but I promise you I wasn¡¯t doing anything bad.¡± He said jovially.


    ¡°He probably believes that too,¡± she thought glumly. She didn¡¯t like protecting people like him, and she often thought about dropping him as a client. Still, the money was good enough. Besides, everyone needed someone to defend them. Even the worst people, like Johnny, needed someone in their corner.


    ¡°Alright, I take it you¡¯ve got the recordings, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t want to send it on the net.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine. Come on in later today. Just keep in mind I¡¯m charging extra. Everything will come up during the pre-trial so it¡¯s not like any of this is going to be a secret. I¡¯ll make sure to defend you to the best of my abilities.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got lots of sights to show ya.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you do. I¡¯ll see you soon. Goodbye.¡±


    ¡ª--


    Dara Wharton lost herself in her old shows again. There had been a time when she hated connected movie universes, but modern entertainment no longer interested her. It was all direct-to-brain first person experiences with far too much sex and violence for her taste. She found comfort in old things.


    Despite her advanced age and her desire mostly dying off long ago, she still enjoyed films with the attractive male actors she¡¯d once enjoyed. Many of them had been taken by time - both drug use and not quite making it to the point where the cure for aging had been invented took more than their fair share. Yet others had died from violence. The last century hadn¡¯t been peaceful, even setting aside the vast metropolises that had been annihilated in the brief exchanges of nuclear war.


    She looked on her shelf and took a moment to remember as she gazed upon a vial full of what had once been Los Angeles. The vial itself merely contained sand - the actual remains of the city were too dangerously radioactive or contaminated with chemicals from the city ruins to carry anywhere. Time had moved forward and there was a city there once again. It had only taken fifty years for it to become a bustling metropolis a second time.


    She closed her eyes and shuddered as she recalled the faces of children with third degree burns, nerves so scorched they felt no pain. Disaster relief there had been a horror beyond horrors, and eternal proof that they needed no machine emperor to make life painful. Mankind had more than enough sin to its name to match even the superhuman horror they faced.


    It was that very thing that made her frightened for Sam. She knew that he didn¡¯t like his lack of enhancement. It seemed hypocritical to her that she¡¯d once made cybernetics to save the victims of nuclear fire and now forbid them to her own grandson. Yet she felt that was precisely what she needed to do.


    There was another fire in her memories. One that consumed the very people dedicated to helping others, and one not a product of war, but spite and grief.


    Power could not change the nature of someone, only magnify it. Now was the only time she could truly help to shape Sam. Once he was enhanced he would be beyond her and there would be nothing she could do. Already that power had ruined so many people in her life and created a monster the world could not contain. Could humanity even last like this? She didn¡¯t know, but if there was a hope it wouldn¡¯t lie in twisting their humanity. That was why she¡¯d decided to grow old and die rather than live on like the rest. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Already the tumors were growing within her body, a legacy of that time in the fallout of a destroyed city decades ago. Now only one enhancement held them at bay - a threadbare immune system enhancer that kept it in check. At one press of a button on her chair it would be over.


    Sam still needed her. It was the only thing she truly had left.


    She was disturbed in her reverie over forgotten times when her cell phone rang. She picked it up expecting spam, but saw an unexpected name. At that moment she knew everything would change.


    ¡ª


    Loki was on a mission. The very friendly humans had allowed him into their apartment and he took full advantage of it. Loki hadn¡¯t been his name for very long, but that was fine. For cats a unique scent was enough to identify them to each other. He liked the human name anyway. Apparently it was the name of a trickster and that was fitting considering what he was doing now.


    He¡¯d snuck out of Sam¡¯s room, hopping up and using his paws to hang off the doorknob until he could turn it enough for it to open. Then he very carefully crept out into the hallway, doing his best to make no sound at all. This was fairly easy as the floor was carpeted. Still, he couldn¡¯t let the old lady know that he was out. The most dangerous part of the journey was just up ahead.


    Suddenly there was a loud ringing sound from the living room and he jumped straight up into the air. He barely suppressed the yowl that he instinctually wanted to make and did his best to land quietly on the floor. The old woman started talking to seemingly no-one.


    ¡°It¡¯s been years since I last spoke to you,¡± She said.


    Loki did his best to creep up on the hallway and glance into the area the humans called the, ¡°living room.¡± Since they seemed to live in every room he didn¡¯t understand why it was called that, but he understood it just the same.


    ¡°Yes, you did what I asked you to do, even if it wasn¡¯t what I expected.¡±


    She was speaking into a small rectangle, her motorized chair facing the television and away from him. Loki would have laughed if that was something cats did. Instead he did his best to silently pad past the hallway and towards the kitchen.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know,¡± the old woman said, voice full of uncertainty. Suddenly Loki realized that she was using the strange human magic that let them talk with other humans over long distances. That was good - she¡¯d be distracted while he got to work.


    ¡°It¡¯s been such a long time, but I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s something I could ever forgive, even now.¡± She said, her voice full of regret.


    He moved to the kitchen and next to the fridge. He listened to the conversation to make sure she didn¡¯t end what she was doing. Things would get a lot harder if she did. Leaping up on the counter he went over to the sink. Once there he carefully grabbed a dirty butterknife in his mouth, barely able to carry it. He swatted a hot pad off the counter and dropped the knife on it, hoping beyond all hope that it wouldn¡¯t bounce off and make a loud noise.


    ¡°You¡¯re outside right now? I suppose I can let you in. We¡¯ll at least talk. I owe you that much.¡± The old human said. This gave Loki a sense of renewed urgency.


    He braced his front paws on the refrigerator and his hind paws on the door. Then using all his strength he pushed and pushed and pushed. He wasn¡¯t very large or strong, but he was able to barely manage it. He put the dirty butterknife in the door, carefully balancing it so that it held it open. Then he made his way to the meat tray and pulled it open.


    There it was - the golden prize. A pack of sliced ham. The writing said ¡°Vat grown¡±, but he didn¡¯t know what that was. He put it in his mouth and pulled it out of the drawer.


    Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. Loki leapt out of the fridge, moved the hot pad beneath the refrigerator door, and knocked the butterknife down with a swipe of his paw. It silently hit the pad and the great door began to swing closed. He then darted behind the kitchen island just in time, hiding from sight as the old woman¡¯s chair moved towards the front door.


    He panted heavily, the exertion of opening the refrigerator and almost getting caught making him feel desperate. He set down the packet of ham - it was incredibly heavy.


    He peeked around the corner and saw the front door swing open. A man stepped in, dressed in colorful looking clothes that made a continually shifting pattern.


    He had to suppress the instinct that came up in him to go pounce on it. The shifting pattern was alluring, tempting, so¡­ so¡­


    He found himself silently chittering without realizing he was doing it.


    ¡°Hello Dara.¡± the male human said, his voice as rich and deep as any Loki had ever heard.


    ¡°Would you like a cup of tea?¡± The old woman asked.


    Loki could have sworn he saw the man¡¯s eyes dart near him for a moment, but it was so brief he couldn¡¯t be sure. He¡¯d never seen a human move that fast before. The man looked casual and slow, but he felt his fur stand on end. It was like standing near an angry dog. Something about him gave off the impression of a predator. He held his breath and ducked completely out of sight.


    ¡°No need for extra pleasantries,¡± He said, voice booming in the confined space of the apartment. ¡°Let¡¯s go talk.¡±


    ¡°Alright, come to my room.¡±


    As they moved out of sight Loki finally let himself breathe again. He didn¡¯t move until he heard a door close.


    Then he charged as fast as he could into Sam¡¯s room and out of the window to the fire escape. The great ham heist was complete! His mom and siblings would eat well tonight too.


    ¡ª


    Cassandra let the man into her office, his bulk immediately filling the room. She made sure her security systems were active and working on overdrive when he was here. The skinhead was on his best behavior with her, but that didn¡¯t mean much.


    ¡°Well if it isn¡¯t my favorite lawyer.¡± He grinned.


    ¡°Alright, Johnny. Let¡¯s not waste time. Hand over the memory and let¡¯s take a look.¡±


    ¡°What, no time to be friendly? Alright, fine. Here you go.¡±


    The man blinked and she received a neural link request, which she immediately sent to the company filter for review. She waited¡­ no problems. The file came back clean, nothing strange. She hated watching the memories of this sociopath more than she hated downloading new memories every morning but it provided a clear, unfiltered view of events.


    The moment she accepted the memory she knew something was wrong. She didn¡¯t experience anything. She tried to talk and say something, double check on the file, only to find she couldn¡¯t move at all.


    She tried using her neural link to call someone, only to find that too was disabled. For all intents and purposes, she was completely paralyzed. She couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t speak, and couldn¡¯t do anything else.


    ¡°I see.¡± She said against her will, with words not her own. ¡°Come closer. Let me take a look at the mark from the attack. We may be able to do something with that in court.¡±


    Internally she was screaming, thrashing, and trying to make herself move. She was unable to do anything but what her puppeteer wanted. Johnny moved closer, her body now on autopilot as she grabbed his hand at an angle that left the cameras unable to see the full detail.


    As her hands moved to cup Johnny¡¯s arm, she felt a sharp, stinging pinch in the back of her hand. Something had pierced her skin - a concealed needle or something like it, she guessed.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need a fulldive pod to go over this in more detail. I¡¯ll call my secretary and set something up,¡± She heard her own voice say.


    Over the neural link she heard a message. It was in a voice very different from the one Johnny used.


    ¡°You¡¯re a smart woman, Cassandra. Do you know who I am now?¡±


    As she got up and walked to the office¡¯s pod, she realized that she¡¯d been speaking with the Machine Emperor all along. No matter how much she wanted to scream she couldn¡¯t. She simply walked smiling towards her fate.