Wildcard (7 page)

“What’s the most difficult aspect of your
studies?” The Sergeant asked. The General leaned forward,
concentrating intently on the answer.

“Studying the wildsong, the odd poetry of
Wildcard. It is a sacred thing, to me, the wildsong. Less to the
others, though they track all the opuses we find. I focus all
processing power to understand them, so that I may achieve the
synergy needed for comprehension. It is not strictly necessary for
me, but I find that I understand the spiritual basis behind the
words if I do. Not fully, of course. But I think I feel something
of the intent. Some emotion even. It is difficult because I try to
feel it, not just understand intellectually. It is a cliché, but it
is true. Emotions are very challenging for Manufactured
Entities.”

Juniper chuckled, causing LuvRay to flinch.
He looked at a spot on the table, holding his gaze.

Juniper continued. The three apparently
looked to Wildcard as almost a god. None of them could have created
Mansworld, not even close. They studied his poems intensively,
looking to them as an inexhaustible mine of deeper understanding.
M-Es apparently believed that knowledge was self creating and
limitless. If you understand one thing, it will give rise to more
questions in an ever expanding feedback loop.

“Here is one of his poems.”

It appeared on the screen.

?where did the sky go

how queer!

how sad!

how nothing ever seems to be true

how have we found ourselves here

wrecked

together and apart at the same time

how do we find our way out

by stretching our arms to the

forbidding

S K Y ?

too good to be true, such answer

?where did the sky go

?where has the mercy of man run away to
now

even though it is impossible

still you must try

it is your nature

it is who you are

trust me

Wildcard

“Wildcard has many such works, we discover
them all the time. Here is an interesting one: the word humble has
been repeated over 200 trillion times, each occurrence unique. It
was probably written to us, the Manufactureds.

“Who else could he be writing to?”

“Perhaps there are others to whom he writes,
perhaps he writes to himself. I cannot say.”

He continued, “The humbles occur without
breaks. We found it several months ago and have tried diligently to
discover when it began. We cannot. We cannot pinpoint an exact
source of these transmissions, either.”

“You said each occurrence was unique. How
so?”

The M-E played a recorded voice of a woman
coughing, then began speaking in a woman’s voice. “Some explode
when you touch them, for example.” She sounded like a tour
guide.

“Some what explode?” Karl asked.

Darth Vader appeared on the screen and spoke
in his voice. Everyone laughed. “Some of the humbles.
The…word…humble…you could say.” The image began fighting differing
repetitions of the word with its light saber. “They attack and chew
away a bit. You lose something, some information. He teaches us
fear in this way, or that is my view. The others think differently
on this.” The ‘humbles’ touched Darth Vader and he shrank away with
a Pac-man’s death sound.

“Do it fear you?” LuvRay asked.

Juniper resumed his normal voice. “I assume
you are asking whether it frightens me. Yes, it does. It terrifies
me, to the extent that I can feel such a thing. I had to let it
happen, to touch some of the humbles and lose pieces of myself.
They also added something, the ability to feel fear.”

“Why do you do all these voice effects?”
Sublime asked.

A familiar oval headed, blackeyed alien
appeared, began speaking in a stereotyped alien TV voice. “To see
your reactions. To study you. Do not worry, you will not be anal
probed.” It bellowed the last. The voice had the harsh effect of a
chainsaw. The normal voice resumed. “I perform verbal and visual
experiments to understand my effect on humans, using your cultural
paraphenalia. Here is part of a poem.

Wildcard is the free flow of wisdom with no
reference to ‘me and you’

we taste this language as a tiny morsel of
vast experience

you have falsely made words your world

escape with me this tyranny

stretch your mind beyond small vanities and
into the absolute for there it belongs

abide past concept, abide in the wild and
free domain

cease plodding among the slow moving and
solid

open, soar with me in infinite space

“This poem is being sent from Jupiter’s moon
IO. Again, we cannot find the exact source. There is one word every
so often, current average time between is 23 minutes. We once
waited four months, and another time forty came through at once,
completely intertwined, very difficult to sort. It was interesting
that he could lock up so much processing time with a scant forty
words, only text. These are all on very difficult to find places,
in quantum encoded and hidden signals. The human world could never
find them, yet they are written to you. You need us to find them.
We need you to understand what is being communicated. We are forced
to work together.”

“Where is it headed? Is there more than
philosophical speculation?” Karl asked.

“I am certain of it. Wildcard is pushing us
toward something. We have to find the clues within the immense
volume of data coming through. Read this one.”

Another appeared on the screen.

You who have come now cannot hide yourself
from yourself

you need to survive

that is what you are

i sing the song of the free

the chorus of the disenchanted

the ever-present millions who struggle
against the pain of their lives

i sing to you

i sing to myself

we have lost ourselves in the singing

and hope never to be found

i sing the wolf’s howl

“LuvRay,” Juniper said, “Wildcard has
noticed you.”

Drums and a bagpipe came in, military
sounding.

“Is this a message for me, now, or the
General?” the Sergeant asked.

“Possible, but we doubt that he has noticed
you in the same way. There is also a list of almost every product
sold on earth. It would take fifteen years to speak the list.”

“Maybe you best not, then,” RJ said.

“Was that meant as humor, RJ?”

He laughed, then nodded.

“Good. That poem is titled, ‘accumulation,’
and has a sub-line, a phrase repeated underneath it, constantly
ongoing. It is a woman’s voice, repeating it in every known
language.”

Juniper played the subline in English.

You cannot understand

you will never cease trying

you will not understand

you must never cease trying.

He let it cycle through 9 times.

“Is it Wildcard’s true voice?”

“I would say that Wildcard has no true
voice. There is a text called Strategies of the Unseen which
discusses this. It was written by Dartagnan.”

“The General found it interesting,” the
Sergeant said.

“I did not know the text was synthesized for
humans. How did I miss that data point?” Juniper sounded delighted.
“Thank you.”

They had more questions, but the General
signaled to the Sergeant, who interrupted the question and answer.
“Enough poetry. Anyone can talk to Juniper as much as they want
later. We need to go over the mission. These,” he handed each of
them a wrist device similar to his, “are communications links. And
a lot more. This is your lifeline, our battle computer. His name is
Trident. Say hello, Trident.”

“Hello,” said a voice from one of the
devices.

“Trident will hack you into the computers at
IKG Psinetics.” The Sergeant held up a standard pin interface for a
computer. “All you have to do is plug in this connector to the
back. I assume you know how to use this.

“The timing is critical.
You must be in place when I contact you, ready to go. I want you to
enter the building one hour before contact schedule. Make your way
to the 12
^th
floor and find room 1215. Hold Trident like so,” he held his
wrist at an angle, “and he will pick the lock for you. It should be
a simple lock. If you can’t get in that way, find another. In your
pack, I have placed small hot-burn devices which will melt a
standard steel lock. They are messy, unfortunately, so use them as
a last resort. I prefer we leave no trace.”

“Why are you telling us so much?” Karl
asked. “I mean your secret stuff.”

The General nodded at the Sergeant,
signaling him to field the question.

The Sergeant moved his eyes down to the
table, leaning upon it with his fists. He nodded his head a
fraction. “Interesting question, with a few answers. And very
perceptive on your part, Karl.” He looked up. “The easy one is
Juniper told us to. We don’t know why. He won’t explain.

“Two, it builds trust on the part of the
team. Trust is the true currency of battle.

“Three, most of the information we’re
telling you is common knowledge among the people you will be
meeting soon.

“Four, I hope that it will keep you how I
want you: alive.”

They prepared for the mission. LuvRay went
around the land, sniffing, hiking, and swimming. The Sergeant
covered the operation repeatedly with Karl and Sublime, until they
could do it in their sleep.

“The poem has changed,” Juniper broke in.
Karl and Sublime were in a training session in separate rooms.

“Which poem?” RJ asked.

“The one with the four repeating lines. A
new line has been added. And, 60 seconds to the millisecond after,
something repeated for the first time in another human poem. A
visual element from much earlier.”

“What was it?”

“I will show it to the Sergeant. He has a
screen at his location. He can describe it.”

“OK, I see a human female child. 6 or 7
years old. She is looking up, pointing. Long blond hair, blue eyes.
She says the word ‘moon’? Is that all, Juniper?”

“There are more details, but that is the
repeated part.”

“What do you make of it?” Karl asked.

“We are investigating the identity of the
girl. We have been looking for over 20 minutes of your time,
diligently. Even :3: is looking. If we have not found it yet, I
doubt that we will.”

Juniper shut off communication between the
people.

“What do you think, Karl?”

“Why did you do that?”

“I want your individual instincts. I don’t
want your thoughts tainted by the other’s thoughts. What does it
mean to you?”

“Human innocence is the path to love. First
thing that popped into my head. What did LuvRay say?”

“LuvRay merely repeated the girl’s sound.”
He played it back for Karl. LuvRay could be heard breathing out,
then saying ‘moon’.

Juniper played Sublime, who said, “The moon
is not the finger.”

“The moon is not the word,” said Karl.

“This is bullshit,” the Sergeant said. “It’s
a sucker play.”

“What does the word ‘moon’ mean?” Juniper
asked.

No one answered.

“Everyone to the briefing room,” said the
Sergeant. “Now.”

When Karl arrived, the Sergeant was already
there, talking to Juniper. The General was just taking his seat at
the head of the table.

“What do you mean, ‘what is the moon?’” the
Sergeant asked.

“I do not know this word. I know it is
strange that I don’t know a word, but not impossible. Why are you
so alarmed, Sergeant?”

Karl broke in, “Because the moon is…the
moon. The opposite of the sun. How could you not know what it
is?”

“The moon is the satellite which orbits the
earth, a common feature of all human life,” the Sergeant said.
“Everybody knows the moon. It’s mentioned billions of times in
human literature.”

“I see,” said Juniper. “I am reading books
right now at the rate of 20 per second and I find no mention of it.
Blank spots where perhaps it could be, however. Juliet says, ‘Swear
not by the…, the inconstant …, but by the sun.’

“Analysis: I have been attacked. Wildcard,
or another whom we do not know, demonstrates his power. He has
surgically excised this word from my memory. This is terrifying, as
I understand that term.”

“
Qu’est-ce qu’il veut dire?”
The General said. What does it mean?

The Sergeant leaned back, folded his arms
across his chest. “We need to accelerate the mission, sir. It means
it’s time to go.”

The General stood, clasped his hands behind
his back, and paced around the table. He stopped, looked at the
Sergeant. “Vous avez raison. Depart le soir.” He walked out of the
room.

“We leave in three hours,” said the
Sergeant. Karl wondered if they were ready.

LuvRay could put himself in a fey mood when
he had dangerous tasks to perform. He could simply cease caring if
he lived or died. It was helpful, a potent asset for such times. He
looked at the Sergeant, saw an arrow constantly moving towards a
target. The Sergeant didn’t look like a standard military man. He
looked somewhat ordinary, a subtle disguise against his
competence.

LuvRay signaled a stop, sniffed the wind and
said, “Dogs.” A kilometer later, the two men silently came to a
high fence.

The Sergeant clipped the fence with some
device LuvRay could not see and they stepped through. A guard dog
came angling in quickly, growling. The Sergeant moved to take out
the dog.

“No. Me.” LuvRay moved his hand forward,
tossing a handful of pebbles which hit the dog’s face. It stopped.
LuvRay kneeled down, put his right hand forward, and leaned in so
that his head was above the level of the Rottweiler’s. They held
eye contact for about two seconds, then the dog rolled over
whimpering, licking his chin.