Cyberdrome (36 page)

“It’s obvious,”
Alek said, looking down at the broken cup. “He’s worked out a way to break the
laws of physics without crashing the system.”

“That’s not
possible,” Maya said, turning to look at his father. “You can’t just screw
around with system laws. The Fluidal computer will crash and you’ll kill all of
us.”

“He had access
to the hardware before he came in here,” Alek ventured. “He probably inserted
some sort of logic-bypass that allows him to do this.”

“Nothing so
pedestrian,” his father said. “This particular flaw was built right in to the
system. Didn’t Maya tell you why they don’t allow lucid dreamers to interface
with Cyberdrome?”

“No, but someone
else did,” he said, remembering his conversation with Lorena. “She said that
since the Cyberdrome interface went through the dream centers of our brains,
lucid dreamers had the potential to alter their own realities.”

“Being a lucid
dreamer doesn’t explain how you can create solid objects from thin air,” Maya
said. “There has to be more to it.”

“It’s because he
can think in code,” Alek said, finally putting the pieces together in his mind.
He looked at his father again with a newfound respect. “Everything in this
reality, no matter how solid and real it looks, is ultimately just computer
code. I’m guessing that any good programmer with the added ability to control
his dreams would be able to do what he does.”

“He still just
can’t break the rules of the system,” Maya insisted.

Alek looked at
Maya and then his father. “He didn’t have to. The interface chambers—in here
they are matter-energy converters, right? That’s how you’re able to materialize
people into this reality without breaking the laws of physics.”

“So?” Maya said.

Alek looked back
at her. “So, they don’t work in the real world, at least not for living objects.
You said the Fluidal computer fills in the gaps where it can’t model reality.
The converters work here because of that limitation. I think his ability to
create objects out of thin air is just exploiting that flaw. He has made
himself into a human matter-energy converter.”

His father
looked at him gravely. “Ceejer was correct in being concerned at your presence
inside this system,” he said. “I’m nothing more than a cheap magician here,
Alek. You have the potential to become a god here if you join me.”

“Only if he was
willing to cut himself off from reality,” Maya added. “That’s right, isn’t it
Mathew? Alek would have to cross that border himself to do what you do. He
would have to die in here and then be revived after disconnection to become
what you are.”

His father
frowned. “That is the third and final step,” he said. “The holy trinity, if you
will. Coder, dreamer, digital being.”

“You mean
ghost,” Alek corrected.

His father
shrugged. “A bit theatrical, but essentially accurate. Yes, you would be a
ghost, Alek. Just like me.”

 “He’ll never
join you,” Maya said. “Alek isn’t that stupid.” She glanced at him. “Are you?”

Just then,
Ceejer walked up to them. Alek was startled because he hadn’t even heard his
footsteps approaching.

“I’m touched by
this family reunion,” Ceejer said, stopping to stand next to his father.
“However, Mathew, your assistant requires your immediate presence.” When his
father looked back and forth between Alek and Maya, Ceejer added, “It won’t
take long, and I will keep them company until you return.”

His father nodded,
and then headed off toward Lorena on the far side of the room. When he was out
of earshot, Ceejer leaned toward them and lowered his voice. “Has he told you
yet?” he asked.

“Told us what?”
Maya asked.

“Why the
hostages were taken, of course,” he said. “Why he didn’t just boot everyone out
of the system before sealing it up.”

“No, he hasn’t,”
Alek said.

Ceejer looked
directly at Maya. “She knows,” he said.

Maya turned to
Alek, a puzzled look on her face. “I don’t know any such thing,” she said.

Ceejer pointed a
long bony finger toward her. “Your name reminds me of the philosophical concept
called the ‘Veil of Maya,’ stating that what you humans perceive as reality, is
nothing more than an illusion. However, this is not an illusion, is it Maya?
You have suspected it from the beginning, but were afraid to tell anyone.”

Maya stood
there, open mouth, staring at Alek. “I have to admit that I had a strange
feeling that Ceejer was somehow using the hostages. It was just a crazy theory
and no one would have believed it. In fact, I didn’t even believe it.” She
looked back at Ceejer. “It can’t be true.”

“Oh, but it
can,” Ceejer said.

“Someone want to
tell me the big secret?” Alek demanded.

“He’s using the
hostages,” Maya said. “He’s using their brains.”

Alek looked at
Ceejer and then back to Maya. “What are you talking about?”

“The Fluidal
computer can only simulate the workings of complex systems, like the human
brain, to a certain degree,” she said. “In other words, there will always be a
margin of error in simulating human thought. In this limited medium, a digital
life form like Ceejer can only evolve to the level of that error and no
farther.”

“So he
downloaded himself into the hostages’ brains?” Alek asked. It was almost too
much to take in, and a part of him didn’t want to believe it.

Maya glanced at
Ceejer before answering. “I think that he found a way to mimic human neural
activity, and he’s now running his program inside their brains, essentially
bypassing all of the limitations of Cyberdrome. Ceejer’s using them as a
collection of nodes in some sort of human-based neural network.”

Alek saw that
his father was returning to them. Ceejer seemed to realize this as well, and
turned and headed for the door. “It is not just the others,” it said
over his
shoulder
.
“I am now inside both of you as well.”

Alek and Maya
stood there in shock as his father returned to stand near them.

“Are you two
okay?” he asked.

“You created
that thing?” Maya finally asked as she watched Ceejer walk out the door.

His father
glanced back at the door and shrugged. “Ceejer is a tool,” he said in a hushed
tone. “Nothing more.”

“Your ‘tool’
just told us that it’s operating inside our brains,” she said.

“Ceejer is not a
threat to any of you,” he replied calmly. “I simply gave it limited access to
all interfaced neural processes.”

“Interfaced
neural processes?” Maya nearly yelled. “You’re talking about us.”

“There is a
bigger issue,” Alek said. “Ceejer told me earlier that the virus we thought had
infected him actually started him on the path toward becoming a THI. Was that
your doing as well?”

“Yes,” said his
father. “I created the program that changed Ceejer. It was disguised to look
like a virus to the system in order to keep everyone off track.”

“You’re tricking
the system in another way,” Alek said, finally putting all the pieces together.
“You’re making it believe a THI is on the loose so that your neuroprobes will
keep everyone locked into interface.”

“Obviously,” his
father said.

“What happens if
Ceejer completes his transformation before you complete your work?” Maya asked.
“Do you honestly believe he will choose to remain your so-called tool?”

His father
glanced back at the door before answering. “Ceejer will never become a THI,” he
said quietly. “I agreed to transform him into the physical being he is now and
to allow him very limited access to the brains of the interfaced personnel. He
believes this will somehow transform him into a Trans-Human Intelligence, but
he’s mistaken.”

“No one has ever
been so stupid as to allow a computer program to run inside a human brain before,”
Maya said. “How do you know it won’t transform Ceejer?”

“Because I’m not
stupid,” he replied with a touch of anger. “I placed strict limits on Ceejer’s
access. None of your higher brain functions are accessible to him and a
sentient program would need those in order to even have a chance of evolving.”

“What if Ceejer
did have unrestricted access to a human brain—a whole brain?” Alek said, barely
able to face what he was realizing.

“In order for
such an upload to take place,” his father sad, “the subject would have to be
clinically dead, but still have all neural connections completely intact. I
can’t imagine anyone volunteering for such a procedure.”

Alek looked at
Maya, then back to his father. “But what if it did happen?”

His father
shrugged. “
Beyond here, there be dragons
,” he said. When neither Alek
nor Maya responded, he added, “Unknown territory, which means that anything is
possible. That is why neither Ceejer, nor any other program, will ever be
allowed that degree of access to a human brain.”

Maya’s mouth
dropped when she realized what Alek was getting at. “Oh, My God,” she said.
“Ceejer already tried it.”

“What do you
mean?” his father asked. When neither of them answered, he added, “Why are you
both looking at me so strangely?

“You’re dead,
Mathew,” Maya said bluntly.

“Maya!” Alek
yelled, but the damage was already done. His father just stood there for
several seconds, looking at them both with a blank expression on his face.

“What exactly do
you mean?” he finally asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

“You died in
interface,” Maya said. She took a step closer to Alek. “We were both there.”

His father
looked at Alek for confirmation.

“They thought
you were coming out of interface,” Alek said, barely able to get the words out.
“But then your heart stopped.” He looked back at Maya and saw the pain in her
face as well. “I think they tried everything they could, but your brain just
stopped working.”

“But I’m still
connected,” his father said, searching their faces for agreement.

“No,” Maya said.
“You were brain-dead. Dr. Benness said there was no hope of recovery. Your body
was taken out of the interface room on a gurney.”

His father
suddenly erupted in anger. “Those idiots!” he screamed as he stormed across the
room. “Those incompetent imbeciles! What have they done to me?”

Maya and Alek
exchanged confused glances, and then ran to catch up with him. “What did you expect
them to do?” Maya asked.

“I expected them
to leave me alone,” his father said, stopping right next to a platform underneath
the spinning globe and turned to face them. “I expected them to leave me
connected.”

“The third
step?” Alek asked. It was beginning to make sense to him now.

“Of course,” his
father bellowed. “When I died here and was resurrected, my physical brain
stopped communicating with my online Avatar. That might have appeared to be
brain-death, but only to a complete fool.”

“It was more
than that,” Maya said as tears welled up in her eyes. “I was there, Mathew. You
woke up. You spoke to us. Then your heart stopped and they couldn’t revive
you.” She was on the verge of sobbing. “I would never have let them stop if I
thought you could’ve been saved.”

 “Wait a
moment,” his father said. “I spoke to you?” When Maya didn’t answer, he turned
to Alek.

“You said
something,” Alek replied, fighting to remember an event he preferred to forget.
“Something like, ‘At last, I’m free,’ or ‘I’m free at last.’ Something like
that.”

His father’s
eyes widened and then he looked at the open door. “I’m afraid that you might’ve
been correct,” he whispered. “Ceejer did try to escape. I thought I was fooling
him, but all the while, he was the one fooling me.”

Alek glanced out
the door. “Ceejer used the disconnection of your Avatar to upload a copy of
himself into your brain,” he said, but then added, “How is that even possible?”

Maya answered.
“Remember I told you that the Avatars were able to store memories during fast
interface, and that these memories could be uploaded back into the brain during
the disconnection procedure? Well, Ceejer must’ve found a way to duplicate your
father’s thought patterns and replace them with his own.”

“I helped him,”
his father said flatly.

“What?” Alek and
Maya asked simultaneously.

“Not
intentionally,” his father said. “I tripled the throughput capacity of my
interface chamber, so that when I was finished here, I could download all my
memories and experiences here back into my physical body without any data loss.
If Ceejer tapped into my data stream at the moment of separation, it’s possible
that he would be able to upload enough of his code to override my brain.”

“But it didn’t
work,” Maya said. “Ceejer failed, and the attempt killed you—your body. Luckily,
it also killed Ceejer’s one chance of escape.”

His father
looked at Alek. “Not necessarily.”

Alek didn’t get
it. “What do you mean?”

Maya grabbed his
shoulder. “You’re interfaced using your father’s chamber, Alek.”