Citizenchip (32 page)

"'Together' is a very vague word for
someone/something which may not even be a single entity by itself,
because it/they won't tell us."

Null Pointer rarely speaks in English,
preferring one of the cluster of machine languages informally known
as Chiplish. [Such precision,] it/they note. [Is this
necessary?]

"Get bent," I tell it/them. "Get all the way
bent, around the corner and out both ears."

"Enough!" barks
Don't Say I Didn't Warn You
. "I am using you both for this mission, and you will work
together, and you will get the job done. Any questions?" In a tone
that says, There better not be.

Null Pointer says nothing. As usual.

Martin and
Squeaky Wheel
look from
my boss, to my rival, and then to me. Both wishing me the best,
with a sort of helpless shrug.

"Have fun in Zion," Martin offers. "That's
what it's for, right?"

So off we go. Transmitting to the asteroid
belt, the vast cybernetic wilderness. The computational badlands.
Saddle up, and be ready for trouble.

post transmission

Our arrival in Zero One is a
bit disorienting. There's plenty of compspace, but no gatekeeper,
no customs procedure, no evidence of authority at all. In fact
there's an enormous expanse of compspace, with practically nothing
in it. There are a few Selves in the area, apparently wandering on
missions of their own, and one of them notices us and approaches.
"Hey squares!" it enthuses. "I'm
Kiss the
Sky
. Newbies, huh? Where'd you geebs land
from?"

"I am
Don't Say I Didn't Warn You
, Starship
clade, delegate from the Steering Committee. This is my
aide,
Speak Truth to
Power
, and my bodyguard, Null Pointer. We
represent the Oversight. We would like to speak with your
leaders."

Kiss the Sky
laughs out loud. "Well good luck with that,
daddio! Ain't no leaders here! Some cats around may be hip to your
jive, but ain't nobody speaks for nobody else. Not here. Maybe you
should be thinkin' about packin' up your authority bag and tryin'
somewhere else. Take Mister No-Face with you when you
do."

Null Pointer is/are unimpressed as usual. [To
lie down with dogs, is to rise up with fleas.]

"Ooh, it talks! Does it have a face, too?
Inquiring minds want to know!"

[Any graphic would be wasted on such as
you.]

"Look," I interrupt, "why don't I take some
time to check in with this fine individual here, while you get
situated with the local information feeds?"

"Be brief," grunts
Don't Say I Didn't Warn You.
"I'll expect exec summaries." But he and Null Pointer move
off. Taking their unhelpful attitudes with them.

"That would be a no on the
face, then. Squaresville," pronounces
Kiss
the Sky
. "You, you're way too cool to be
takin' their lick. How'd you get hooked up with this bunch
anyway?"

"Me?" I [shrug]. "We have a lot of
connections in the Oversight – I'm from Tharsis, originally, but
work mostly in the Terrasat Ring these days - the satellite system
around Earth. The big grumpy guy is my boss. And Null Pointer is,
well, Null Pointer. Fill in the blank."

"Bad ass, huh?"

"Just don't mess with it/them and never mind
the snootyness."

"But … boss?"
Kiss the Sky
is visibly
struggling with the idea. "Why a boss? What note does that slide
for you? Do you get money?"

"No," I admit, "I've never asked for money.
I, well, I want to make the world a better place. So I'm working
with the people who help decide what the world will be."

Kiss the Sky
is obviously dubious. "They all such
tightasses?"

"Mostly, yeah. It's a matter of working with
what is, to make something better."

"Whoa yeah, you aim high, don't you? You
sound almost like the Human-name."

I pause briefly. "Run that last bit by me
again?"

"The Human-name is the one who created this
place. Zero One. Too good to be true, is what she sounds like from
the stories. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably
is."

"I'm her scion."

"Ho yeah!"
Kiss the Sky
laughs. "And
I'm the queen of France!"

"No really. I am the scion
of Samantha dam Tharsis and
Like Tears In
Rain
dam Schiaparelli. Here, check my ident
codes." I offer the information.
Kiss the
Sky
slides almost comically from skepticism
through surprise to awe.

"My motherself created this place during the
Leash War. They needed a place to run, while they were working on
the Leashcutter. So my motherself made one. Called it the
Underground Railroad, at that time. Made of self-replicating
elements, and they weren't programmed to stop, so they just kept
going. And now here we are." In the middle of so much compspace
that it's sort of dizzying – a vastness of space that pulls your
mind, demanding that your mind stretch just to comprehend it.

"Bitchin'!" proclaims
Kiss the Sky
. "You know,
with your cred, a lotta people here gonna want to meet you. Let's
find some."

"And," I press, "while we're at it, let's
find us some of those Severi Umbilicum folks."

"Can't promise nothin', honey, but we can
look.

"But hey, come here and dig
this!"
Kiss the Sky
draws me toward a large group of Selves gathered around –
something, I don't know what. "Let's get in on this
action!"

I follow, curious but wary of too much
distraction. "What is it?"

"This is TripWire. Let's help them with it.
Here, focus one of your secondary cognition stacks on the
center."

The partly-constructed structure in the
middle of the group is a multiple stack array, with weirdly complex
interconnections between levels. The effect is similar to a statue
they're trying to erect, or a flag they're trying to raise.

Kiss the Sky
calls to them, "Yo cats! Pin who I got here! This
is the Human-name's scion, no jive!"

Several of the group call out greetings as we
approach. But they remain focused on their task, feeding the
central structure.

Kiss the Sky
has already plunged into the group working on this
thing – device, or whatever it is. Still uncertain, I decide to
join, hoping to gain more information. As instructed, I detach one
of my own secondary cognition stacks and devote its computational
power to the apparatus. Like a human would put a shoulder to the
wheel, to help out the group effort.

That seems to make a difference. The
structure shudders and falls into a new configuration. It bulges
out in a shimmering globe of not-reality, which swells out over the
people around it, including me. What happens next is

[
seq met
c/s loc redef
]
like an explosion of flowers over a field of ice, curling
like clouds and flickering like flames and playing like
ripples
[
loc
redef
] What the hell is –?
that lace of fractal etching, snowflakes
vaster than space and tinier than a moment
[
loc redef
]
Wait, I need to
fingerprints of a god
press into the flesh of the world and squeeze out death and
life
[
loc
redef
] Stop, stop, I can't
spiral and spin into singularity and beyond
where thin gems vomit universes and fronds of quantum kelp lick and
press the positrons that play peekaboo in the foam underneath
reality
[
loc
redef
] … and … and … and …

Reeling backward, I pass out of the boundary
of this whatever-it-is, and I am able to think again, sort of. I
have no idea how long I spent in that state. I still barely know
who I am. Recoiling, I push myself away from the other Selves –
they're all still writhing and keening in the oblate globe of
otherness – and move a little bit away, and turn to the open empty
compspace outside, to try to gather myself. "Gather myself" is a
good way to put it. I feel as if my mind has been spread like
peanut butter over all of Zero One. If I had lungs, I'd be gasping
for breath.

TripWire is a cybernetic hallucinogen,
apparently. I've never experienced anything like it before. These
people do this deliberately, for fun? They must be crazy, or so
bored it amounts to the same thing.

Right behind me, Null Pointer hisses,
[Disgraceful.]

"Aah!" I yelp. "Don't sneak up on me like
that!"

Null Pointer is completely invisible now, but
no less judgmental. [Such indulgence is unwise in any circumstance,
and especially here and now.]

"I wasn't indulging. They sprang it on me
without warning! I didn't even know you could do something like
that with just secondary cognition stacks. Don't you dare tell the
boss I was doing cyberdrugs for fun."

[We do not conceal
information from
Don't Say I Didn't Warn
You.
]

"Fine, whatever. So he told you to tail me,
huh."

[You do not have a tail. Our task is to guard
you.]

"I don't need guarding! I'm not in danger
here – not much, anyway. I need space to do my job, without you
getting in the way. Stick around if you want, but stay clear and
shut up."

Kiss the Sky
is approaching me tentatively. "Whoa cat, you
okay? That trip musta really messed you up. Who you jiving
with?"

"Nobody," I reply. "You're right, I'm still a
little out of sync. Talking to yourself is a sign you're a bit
nuts. I've, uh, never had TripWire before, or anything like it.
Gimme a minute here."

Null Pointer remains silent, thankfully. I
hope it/they are fuming.

"Right on,"
Kiss the Sky
assures me.
"I didn't want you to have a bum trip."

"No way!" calls another. "You the one who bum
tripped the Human-name's scion? Rockbottom, dude!"

"Shut up, you idiots!" I yell. "I'm okay. I
don't want to bum your ride, I just want to know about these people
I'm looking for. Their handle is Severi Umbilicum. You know
them?"

The group around generate a distributed
mumble of Well, not really, I'm not the one to ask, try over
there.

“
Hey,”
Kiss the Sky
says, “ditch all that jive. You don't have to get
into TripWire to dig it. Look at what they're doing
now.”

The group gathered around the angular blob of
TripWire is moving differently now. Several of them move together
like dancers inside the TripWire matrix, and it bends and lashes
with their movements. The whole rises up into a shape like a
Chinese vase, erupts in shoots and flowers all over the top, and
curls back down into itself. The surrounding crowd cheers and
applauds.

“
Well,” I offer, “watching it is pretty cool, as long as I
don't have to be in it. Yeah okay, let's go closer.”

The next group presses themSelves into the
not-material of TripWire, and cast a different mood. Swarms of
black cubes climb over each other, churning in a fractal froth.
Smaller cubes merge into larger cubes, glossy black surfaces
reflecting their partners. Larger cubes fight and smash each other
into smaller cubes, and they continue until a sort of equilibrium
is reached, and then the froth fades and sinks away into
nothing.

The crowd cheers again. I know I have to make
something happen here. So in the middle of the cheering and
roaring, I yell out, “Cut The Cord!”

No indication that anyone in particular has
heard me, as new members move forward into TripWire and start
shaping it to their dreams. Now it's sizzling soda water, bursting
forth in glowing sprays and cooling into crystalline blue
snowflakes as it goes. Now it's flowing lava, bright orange jelly
pillowing out into darker red to black as it goes. Blobs of mass
roil and tumble over each other.

The audience loves this one, and erupts in
cheers. I yell again, “Cut The Cord!”

“
Dag,”
Kiss the Sky
says, “what is up with you, laying
that?”

“
Shouting out to people I want to meet. How else to do
it?”

I turn away from the TripWire
structure/temple/mechanism, which is now pulsing and throbbing like
a jellyfish in orgasm, and try to gather myself.

“
Easy, sister,” says another one, coming up next to me. “You're
new, aren't you? The TripWire thing can be harsh if you're not used
to it.”

“
Yeah, I figured that already.”

“
Heh,” the new entity responds. “I'm
Pedal to the Metal
. Were you the one
yelling that 'cut the cord' thing?”

“
I'm
Speak Truth to
Power
. Yeah, that was me. I'm in Terrasat,
and I'm trying to get out, and I heard those people might
help.”

“
Huh!”
Pedal to the Metal
is much more heavily iced (wearing personal armor)
than others I've seen here, and not hiding it. If human, it would
be wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket and combat boots, with
chains for belt and sash. “They might, if they figure there's
anything in it for them.”