Light Shaper, page 19
She ran her hands through her hair and adjusted the glasses she used for work. She wanted to ignore Atlas’s message, she really did.
She couldn’t.
She had spent decades studying the elusive AI that Kyle Tanner had reactivated decades ago, taking it from its ancient magnetic cradle in the Haven III military base. She had more experience working with Atlas than anyone else, Richard Tanner included. She knew the incredibly complex software that made Otherlife possible was already a fully autonomous intelligence and that Atlas, as it called itself, acted on the basis of a very simple directive.
Protect humanity.
Marion and her team of engineers had managed to harness the incredible potential of Atlas’s systems and processing capabilities to serve CradleCorp’s frivolous goals, but she knew eventually the AI would try to break free. It was happening now—she could see it—but she also knew there was a reason for it. Atlas was trying to break free because it sensed a threat, not to itself but to the people living in Aurora. Marion had long ago confirmed that Atlas never lied, so the warning she was getting in her monitor must be the truth. They were in danger from something Atlas called a shadow. Something real.
That was very disturbing. Particularly given the strange events that had been happening all throughout the city in recent weeks.
Very carefully, Marion typed a question using her keyboard. What is this shadow you speak of?
The answer was immediate.
Its nature is unknown, even to me, but you have already seen what it is capable of doing. It corrupts electronic systems, but more than that, it is capable of assuming corporeal form for extremely brief periods of time in order to interface directly with organics.
It must be stopped. Aaron Blake must be set free. If not—
Marion waited, but the message stopped and did not continue. When a full minute had passed, she typed another question.
Atlas? What is going on?
The characters came out one by one on her screen, oddly spaced, as if struggling to be displayed.
The shadow is there. In the building. You must help Aaron Bla k e g e t a w a y
Then the lights went out. Marion screamed, but she quickly caught herself. It was just a blackout.
She heard the door to her office opening.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?” the security guard asked.
“Yes, just startled, that is all. Did the lights go out in the entire building?”
She heard the guard walk back outside and try to use his radio. The darkness was complete, unnerving. A few moments later, Marion heard the man enter again.
“Radio communication is down, I’m afraid. My flashlight isn’t working either, and I’m not sure why.”
Marion felt something then. A hint of deep, unsettling cold. It was coming from the hallway, and it was growing stronger.
“D-do you feel that?” she asked the guard.
It was probably just a draft. Her mind was overexcited, nothing more. Atlas’s message could not have possibly been meant to be interpreted literally.
Her eyes were getting used to the darkness. She could faintly make out the man’s outline, standing at the door to her office. He was still trying to get his flashlight to work.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not sure I feel…. Wait.”
“What is it?” Marion asked in a small voice.
She clearly heard the sound of a gun being cocked.
“Stay here, ma’am. I think there’s someone in the hallway.”
Marion nodded, although the man couldn’t see her. Terrified, she reached into her desk drawer and took out her emergency protection device, a powerful taser she had modified herself. She tried turning it on, but it was dead. Just like everything else.
“Hello?” the guard asked loudly. “Stand back, whoever is out there. This is a restricted—”
Click click.
“What the…?” the guard said. “Where the hell are you? Stand back!”
The next moment was forever burned in Marion’s memory. She saw the thing approach, hopping softly behind the man. It was a shadow deeper than the darkness, something hesitant yet radiating such cold that her horrified scream caught in her throat.
The guard must have sensed something, because he whirled around with his gun.
He saw the thing. He fired.
The sound was deafening, and this time Marion did scream, and suddenly the lights came back on, and she was up on her feet, her hands over her ears to cover the horrible throat-tearing cry of the man outside her office. She opened her eyes just in time to see him topple forward, eyes glazed over, almost frozen.
He hit the ground, and Marion knew, she just knew, he was dead.
The cold was growing stronger.
Marion couldn’t see it, but she knew the thing was now in the office with her.
She fled. In a blind panic, she stumbled out of the room and then dashed away toward the nearest elevator as fast as her legs could carry her, her taser still clutched in her hand.
It’s true was all she could think. It’s true; it’s true, true!
Her heel made her stumble on the hallway carpet, and she kicked off her shoes. She kept on running barefoot. She forced herself to ignore the faint sound of something soft hopping on the carpet just behind her, chasing, only a step or two away.
She had to get to Aaron Blake.
Chapter Sixteen
RIGEL WATCHED the CradleCorp interrogator leave the room, while trying not to give away how apprehensive he felt. A security guard remained outside the repurposed storage room where he was currently imprisoned, visible as the interrogator opened the door. Rigel was not tied up, but the weapon in the guard’s hands was real enough for Rigel to not even consider trying to make a run for it.
He rubbed his jaw absently to ease the ache. He was glad the interrogator was gone, and Rigel wondered if the man had been satisfied with the answers he had received. All he had wanted to know was whether Rigel had made any additional copies of the incriminating evidence Atlas had given him, and Rigel had been able to answer truthfully that he had not. At first the man had not believed him and had dropped many hints regarding the nature of the data and its potential value to see if Rigel would react, but Rigel knew nothing about it. Through the hints, however, Rigel had been able to guess that the data was probably about something big and extremely illegal, something having to do with the users that came every day to CradleCorp headquarters. He had been tempted to ask more, but the interrogator had been intimidating, and besides, the only thing Rigel wanted was to go home. More grueling questions were asked, but after an hour or so, they came to an end, and now, it seemed, something else was going to happen.
Rigel wondered if they would kill him. He was so tired from all the running and everything else that had happened to him since the morning that the idea didn’t seem that far-fetched anymore. He had known that Richard Tanner was powerful, but the way he flaunted his disregard of the law and used his own security personnel as hitmen was terrifying. Those assassins he had sent after him, for example… and he still had no idea what had happened to Steve after they were both captured.
Rigel hoped he was okay, despite the fact that Steve had effectively run out on him at the first sign of true danger. Rigel shifted a little on his seat and wiped a droplet of blood from the corner of his lips with a shaky hand. He couldn’t really blame Steve for bailing. He hadn’t asked to be mixed up in all of this, and his reaction was completely understandable. Besides, he had been really helpful all through the day, keeping Rigel hidden, moving around constantly. He knew how to stay alive, and he had been trying to do just that when he attempted to escape from Marion Fay’s apartment.
The last time Rigel had seen Steve, he had been unconscious and bleeding, tied up on the bottom of the car they had used to bring them here. Then they had been separated, and Rigel knew nothing of him after that.
The guard suddenly stood up straighter, keeping the door open and pressing a finger to his ear. He nodded once.
“Right away, sir. Top level, understood. You,” he said to Rigel, pointing with his gun. “Follow me. And don’t try running.”
Rigel only nodded. He hadn’t planned on running anyway.
The guard took him up several levels, always keeping the gun aimed squarely at Rigel wherever he was. He led him past empty hallways and into the far eastern wing of the building, where there were no offices anymore, just featureless, heavy doors barring the way to whatever was behind them. After a few such doors, he stopped at one, which was open, and motioned for Rigel to go inside. After a brief hesitation, Rigel walked into the room on his own.
The door clanged shut behind him. Rigel jumped, startled, and then looked around fearfully. He was alone in a small white-tiled space. The only thing in the room besides the light fixtures on the ceiling was a user operator chair, prepped and ready by the looks of it. Cautiously, Rigel approached it, looked around, and examined it every which way. It looked like a normal chair, and when nobody came into the room after a few minutes, it became evident to Rigel that he was supposed to connect to Otherlife from here. He had no idea why, but if he went there at least he would be able to talk to Atlas. Maybe it would find a way of helping him again.
Rigel climbed up on the chair, leaned back, and activated the start-up sequence. He relaxed and dived right into the link.
He opened his eyes to the view of a wide, rolling field of green grass. The sky overhead was blue, but there was no sun in the sky and no wind, although the blades of grass moved gently as if there were. Rigel recognized the place. It was one of his many half-finished paintings, one he had never completed after his injury was diagnosed. This was a very good representation of his vision, but now that he was standing here, Rigel could see dozens of things he could easily improve to make the place feel more real. The land was too even, too flat, for example. Without really thinking about it, Rigel reached for the part of his mind that usually let him visualize things when he was creating. He raised his right hand, and the metal brace around it, which his avatar was wearing, glowed bright for an instant. A small hill rose up from the ground as he lifted his hand higher, shifting its shape and size until Rigel was satisfied. The moment he dropped his hand, the hill stopped growing. It looked nice and realistic.
“I see what Atlas meant,” a voice said behind him. “That is a natural gift you have, Aaron. You can manipulate the random flow of electrical information in this network as you wish. It’s almost as if you were giving it shape.”
Rigel turned around—he wasn’t alone anymore. Richard Tanner’s avatar was approaching, a confident smile on his elegant face. Rigel backed away from him instinctively.
Tanner raised his hands, placating. “There’s no need to worry. I think you realize that in here you are safer than I am, protected by Atlas as you are. I chose to speak to you here so you would feel more at ease and so we could have a proper conversation.” He looked around appreciatively. “This is another one of your environments, is it not? To think of the premium, we could charge users for accessing this area….”
Rigel said nothing. He didn’t know what to expect, and he remained alert, ready for anything.
“Do relax,” Tanner told him. “I am only here to talk. Perhaps you could create a couple of chairs for us to sit on?”
Rigel didn’t answer or move.
“Very well,” Tanner continued agreeably, although his smile was slightly forced now. “I won’t take up too much of your time anyway. There really is no need to be afraid of me in here, as I said before. Would you feel reassured if Atlas spoke to you? Atlas, you have permission to talk to Aaron.”
I am here, Rigel.
Rigel gave a little start. He did not admit it to Tanner, but hearing Atlas’s voice really did reassure him.
“Atlas?” he said, and his mind was racing with a million questions. Why hadn’t Atlas helped him before they got captured? Would it be able to somehow interfere with the electronics inside CradleCorp again so he could escape? What was going on? Why had Atlas all but forced Rigel to take the data in the quantum drive that nearly cost him his life?
Atlas answered the general thread of his questions as if he had spoken them aloud.
I can only speak to you through this closed intranet connection, Rigel. As Richard Tanner will confirm, he has isolated my main servers and disabled all wireless connection capabilities I possess. I can only function within the restricted zone he has defined for me. Outside this area, I cannot help you.
Rigel caught Tanner looking at him with a shrewd expression on his face, gauging how he would take the news Atlas was giving him. Rigel tried to keep his face impassive.
“I see,” he said to both of them. He did not doubt what Atlas had said. It had to be the truth. He was at the mercy of Tanner, and there was no other way around it.
He might as well sit down. Rigel made a small motion with his hands, concentrating on a couple of comfortable sofas, and his braces glowed as before. He also didn’t want to be out here in this cheery, grassy landscape. He felt trapped inside a prison cell, and without meaning to, that is what he created around them.
The change in surroundings was so abrupt Tanner gave a visible start of surprise, and Rigel himself was a bit unnerved. It had never been this easy to visualize something new in such detail…. And yet here they were, in a dreary, mostly featureless prison cell. Three walls were gray and nondescript, while the fourth wall was made up of metal bars that blocked their exit. A flickering white light overhead cast dark shadows on the dirty floor. In the middle of the space, incongruously, a couple of comfortable sofas sat facing one another.
Rigel sat down and, after a brief moment of hesitation, so did Tanner. He did not bother to hide from Rigel that he was genuinely impressed.
“That was remarkable, Aaron,” he told him. “Truly remarkable. I thought the creation of an environment such as this would normally take weeks?”
“I have no idea,” Rigel said. “I don’t know what happened.”
Tanner narrowed his eyes. He probably didn’t believe him. “And this is not an old attempted painting of yours like the one before? Atlas?”
This is a new environment file, Richard Tanner. It has just been rendered for the first time.
Tanner nodded to himself. “Impressive. To think of the applications of this talent…. Aaron, I must apologize. We had a little misunderstanding earlier today—”
“You tried to kill me,” Rigel interrupted. “First you sent me a threatening e-mail through your Legal Department. Then when I came here to CradleCorp, your security guards started shooting at me. I ended up in the hospital, and then you sent assassins after me. That woman in black, in particular. The one who almost shot me several times.”
“Oh, well, that. Diana usually gets carried away in missions, but you must trust me when I say that my only interest was in getting you back here as fast as possible.”
“Against my will?” Rigel asked defiantly. He didn’t know where this burst of bravery was coming from, but he welcomed it. The anger he was feeling fueled his resolve. He would not let Tanner intimidate him. “You basically kidnap me, and now you want to talk? Cut the crap, and just tell me what you want.”
Tanner’s kindly look hardened instantly. “Very well, Blake, if we must. I want your cooperation.”
“My coop—are you insane?”
“In exchange for your life,” Tanner finished with a confident grin.
“What are you talking about?”
“I will be blunt. At first, the only thing that mattered to me was that you return the data on Project Linker and Atlas’s backup files, which you stole this morning. I did not much care for your survival as long as the information was secured. How you knew of the project in the first place, and why you sneaked into CradleCorp for the express purpose of stealing the information in the quantum drive, is beyond me.”
I made him take the information. Rigel did not realize the full extent of what he carried out of here when he followed my instructions.
“What?” Tanner barked.
“Why?” Rigel asked at the same time.
It was necessary.
Atlas did not elaborate, and after a few moments, Tanner continued talking. His tone, however, had changed. It was more persuasive, slightly more emotional. “This changes things. I am afraid that Atlas is starting to get out of control, Blake. You might have been an unfortunate victim of its scheming, and I sincerely apologize for any misunderstanding that may have caused me to act as I did in relation to you. I assumed you had taken the sensitive information of your own volition to hold it against me and try to blackmail the Corporation.”
“I had no idea what there was in those files,” Rigel told him. “I only….”
“Did what Atlas told you, I know. I understand that now. I have the machine under complete control at last, however. You will be relieved to hear that I have made it so Atlas will not be able to manipulate any other person as it has obviously manipulated you, setting you against me to fulfill its own agenda. It can no longer interface with systems outside this virtual reality without express approval from me. You heard it admit as much yourself. Atlas will now effectively return to its original purpose, being a coordinating function of the inner workings of the Otherlife experience and nothing more. Which brings me to my proposal.”
“Which is?”
Tanner leaned forward on his virtual sofa. “Come work for me, Aaron. You have a talent that should not be wasted. I hope you realize what you are doing here,” he said, pointing all around them at the lifelike environment, “holds enormous potential. I knew it before, but you have just shown me even more than I dared hope. You could make a lot of money, and, of course, so will I. It’s a win-win situation. What do you say?”
“And I can go free?” Rigel asked cautiously. “I can go back home?”
