Spheria (28 page)

“Huh?” she muttered, now puzzled.

It must be the server
, she thought.

She drummed the desk with her fingers, trying to decide what to do. She knew the key code to the server room, but she’d never been in there alone. And she’d never logged into that terminal before. But nobody was at work, and she wanted to get a lot more done. She stood up, threw on her sweatshirt because it was cold in the server room, and grabbed her mug.

Walking over to the server door, she entered 6174 into the keypad. It beeped and turned green. She opened the door, and a brilliant pink light washed over her. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she stepped into the room. The door closed behind her with a satisfying click and beep. She wasn’t sure, but it seemed that there were more red Qubes than usual. She shrugged and moved to the desk on the far wall. Sitting, she placed her mug in front of the keyboard. Then, thinking better of it, she moved it to the empty stool next to her.

She wiggled the mouse, and the screen lit up, blue with white letters: “System Failure, reboot required.” Yep, this confirmed it. Something unusual was happening.
 

The server room consisted of the panels of Qubes, four tall server cabinets, and a work surface. Two of the server racks contained nothing but hard drives to store the massive amount of data being produced. The third rack held actual servers. The fourth rack was for future expansion, so it was currently being used as a storage closet.
 

Under the desk, on the floor, was a Lenovo System x3500, which was used to generate the human-simulation interface or HSI. It served two roles: to provide image data so the humans could see what the world looked like in their visors, and to allow them to interact with the world. This was the machine that their own personal workstations were connected to.
 

The architecture of the project was distributed, meaning the various pieces performed their roles in relative isolation. A rack of Stratus ftServer 6800 machines, designed specifically never to crash, managed the state of the world. They tracked the location of every virtual object in Spheria. The Qubes were utilized when Polyans made choices. And the HSI was used to bridge the human and simulated worlds.

Because of the relative isolation of each subsystem, Min knew she could reboot the HSI without affecting the simulation. She hoped this was the issue since she didn’t dare to touch the servers. She slid back, got onto her knees, and crawled under the desk. The mini-fridge sized box sat on the floor, black and silent, with only one LED on the front, pulsing red.

“That can’t be good,” Min said to herself.

She fumbled around the back looking for a power switch, but after not finding one, decided to press the red light.

The computer made a loud “pop” which startled her. She jumped, hitting her head on the top of the desk. “Ow! Dammit!” she exclaimed rubbing her head. The computer was now dark, no lights at all. She pressed the front again, and a loud whine started as the fans turned on. Then the light turned blue; a good sign.

She slid out from under the desk and collided with the stool. It tipped over, and she heard a smash. Before she saw it, she knew what’d happened. Her mug lay shattered, and coffee was spreading across the floor panels.

“Shit!”
Max is gonna kill me.

Without hesitation, she took off her sweatshirt and threw it onto the spill. It soaked up much of the coffee.
A stain is worth not getting fired.
 

Then she realized that she was sitting on raised panels. They’re used in server rooms to allow wires to run beneath the floor: cabling, power... electricity.
Damn!
She had to get down there.

She opened the rack used for storage. There was a roll of paper towels hanging from a dispenser inside the door. Right above it was a bumper sticker that said “Screw Minecraft.”

Ha.
But she felt too much urgency to chuckle.

She pulled a bunch of towels off the roll and shoved them under her sweater lying on the floor. Then she rummaged through the contents of the cabinet: a broom, a plastic bin of screws, a flashlight (
that would’ve been helpful
), a set of raingear (
what’s that for?
), and on the top shelf, the item she was looking for. She reached up and grabbed the “double cup floor puller.” The device looked like a bar with a large suction cup on each end. It was clever actually. You placed it on one of the floor panels, turned a lever, and you instantly get a handle to lift off the panel.

She did this to the panel next to her spill, and removed it, setting it aside. She grabbed the entire roll of paper towels and peered under the floor. It was too dark to see anything.

She retrieved the flashlight and tried again. The floor was littered with wires crossing in every direction. Some were data, but others were larger, and probably power. Those were the ones she was worried about. She reached under the spilled-on panel and began wiping the underside. She felt this would be better than lifting it since she wanted to prevent more coffee from dripping through.
 

Feeling satisfied with the panel, she next tackled the underfloor. She climbed down into the space, which was about two feet high, and began dabbing between the cables. Luckily, there wasn’t too much fluid down there. She had reacted fast enough, the risk was averted, and nobody would know the difference.

She turned the flashlight off and placed it on the floor above. As she started to exit, something unexpected caught her eye in the subfloor darkness. She squinted again to confirm. Indeed, her eyes were not playing tricks on her.

Chapter 34 - Putsch

“The so-called lessons of history are for the most part the rationalizations of the victors. History is written by the survivors.” - Max Lerner

The Leaders stood outside the columned Chamber, atop the Council structure. They watched the violet bubble grow closer to the Source as it rose on its ascending trajectory. Inside the columns, Fa∙ro paced about, apparently nervous about meeting another of his kind.

It was a tough sell, but Ga∙zo had convinced the Leaders that having another god would be a wise decision. There would be backup for Fa∙ro, and they could take turns breaking ties. They could both travel with Sa∙ma to learn the ways of the Lumenaries. That is if Sa∙ma ever returned from wherever he was off to.

The Council members were divided, once again, about this option. But Fa∙ro broke the tie, choosing to have another of his kind. The Leaders were pleased by his decision since he would now share their attention with another. This was as close to an act of selflessness as could be made. The Leaders’ respect for him had grown that day.

Fa∙ro checked to make sure that everything was in place. An empty seven-sided core crystal was sitting in the center of the room. Seven orange elongated crystals had been set near each facet of the core. Nothing was left to chance, and the Council had experience and practice to build on. It should go smoother this time.

The eight Leaders entered, and seven took a place near each leg crystal. Ki∙sa was the odd Polyan out this time, and he stood next to Fa∙ro. They’d both watch the action and assist if something went astray.

The color of the Source shifted, and it cast a violet hue across the world. The Polyans didn’t have to look at it to know this – they could all feel it, the strong urge to replicate themselves. Even Fa∙ro felt it, although he didn’t know what to make of the desire. He fidgeted as the surging energy made him uncomfortable.

The Leaders in their positions began to gyrate in slow circles, first clockwise and then counterclockwise. Even Ki∙sa made these motions next to Fa∙ro. Fa∙ro tried to copy them but was less graceful. Regardless, their cores began to glow with building energy, illuminating the inside of the Chamber.
 

Each of the positioned seven Leaders, at the same time, touched the base of their body core onto the point of the leg below them. Their life force flowed out, filling each leg with their surplus energy. But these legs were larger than normal, so each Council member became nearly depleted. This outcome was expected, and they rolled onto their backs exhausted.

Fa∙ro and Ki∙sa then moved around the empty core in the middle, attaching each of the legs one by one. As they did so, the energy from each leg flowed into the new core, turning it violet. But, like when Fa∙ro was made, it wasn't enough to animate the new Polyan; the core wasn't yet opaque, and the new god did not move.

“This happened last time,” said Ki∙sa. “It took all eight of us to provide enough energy. I will add mine now.”

With that, he climbed onto the core, pressed his body against the point, and allowed his energy to drain out. As he approached depletion, he gave Fa∙ro a wave of success before falling off onto his back and lying still.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the legs of the new god began to twitch. Fa∙ro sprang into action. He jumped on the nearest leg and pried it from the core, severing the link between them. Then he systematically repeated this for the remaining six, until they all lay dormant beside the legless body.
 

Having come full circle, Fa∙ro again faced Ki∙sa’s prone form. He straddled it and pressed the point of his core down, draining his remaining energy. Ki∙sa’s legs fell lifeless to his side.

Fa∙ro repeated this process on Me∙sa, then Wu∙sa, then Co∙sa. He drained them one by one until their life force was completely gone. By this time, Fa∙ro was full to capacity, so he dumped some of his energy into one of the large detached leg crystals. When it became full, Fa∙ro felt hungry once again. He proceeded to eliminate the remaining helpless Leaders: Yo∙sa, Ju∙sa, Pi∙sa, and Vu∙sa. The room was a mass of intertwined limbs and clear Polyan cores. For good measure, Fa∙ro circled again and smashed each former Leader’s core to pieces.

Hearing crashing noises, the three Soldiers guarding the chamber entered. They couldn’t believe their eye sensors. In the center of the room lay the large seven-faceted core, gleaming with an abundance of violet energy. Around it, a mishmash of body parts lay strewn like a giant wreath. The Soldiers looked at Fa∙ro in astonishment, expecting some kind of explanation.

“Friends!” began Fa∙ro. “The Council has failed. The Leaders are no more. I am now taking their place as ruler of this Colony. Call your brothers! The feast in this room is a prize for the Soldiers.”

The three guards paused, trying to make sense of what they were seeing and hearing. Ga∙zo, remembering Sa∙ma’s words, had a brief sinking feeling.
 

“Are you with me?” asked Fa∙ro.

Ga∙zo looked around at the shattered remains of their previous government. Then he looked at Fa∙ro standing bold and majestic, glowing like the god that he was. Turning to the other two Soldiers, he commanded, “Follow me.” He left, and the others rushed after him.

A few moments later, Ga∙zo returned. A line of Soldiers, depleted from their own procreation rituals, entered behind him. One by one they mounted the central core, each taking a drink of refreshing energy. Eventually, the core and the additional leg were empty. All the Soldiers rested in the Council Chamber.

Fa∙ro climbed onto the inert god’s core, towering above the milling audience. “The tragedy today is what legends are made of,” he said. “The Council has failed to create another god, and it has cost the Leaders their lives. This proves that there can only be one of me and that my rightful place is leading you all. I promise not to take this responsibility lightly. In this role, I will make this Colony more prosperous than it has ever been before. Alone, I will rapidly make decisions without bias. The paralysis of the Council, which has crippled our ability to react and adapt, is no more. Bow before me. Bow before your god!”

Puzzled looks were seen among the Soldiers. Then one bowed, then another, then all of them bowed before the glory that was Fa∙ro.

#

Later, Fa∙ro stood alone in the Council Chamber. It was his chamber now.
Fa∙ro’s Chamber.
He had each Soldier carry a piece of debris when they left, so the room was clean and empty now. He lay upon the central dais and called forth, “Pi∙ro, I've completed your test. Come take me to the Source.”

Pi∙ro appeared before him.

Fa∙ro felt a rush of excitement; the time was here. He was finally a god.

Then Pi∙ro spoke. “Fa∙ro, you are an impressive specimen, more than worthy of joining our ranks. You have indeed passed the test. Well done. Now you may join us in the Source.”

“I am ready. Take me.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy. I cannot take you there.”

“What do you mean, you can’t take me there?”

“Like each of us before you, you have to find your way. Then you may take your place beside us.”

Fa∙ro squinted at the god before him. Betrayed and furious, he hungered to strike him more than anything he ever wanted to do. But he wasn’t stupid, so he held back.

Pi∙ro continued, “You have this entire Colony at your disposal. With this many Polyans, you should be able to move mountains and bring the Source to you.” Then with a big smirk, “I will tell the others to await your arrival.” With that, he vanished.