The_Prophecy_of_the_Heron_V5

15. Relics of the Past

The door clicked shut behind Kim as she entered her apartment and prepared to spend the night. She felt proud of the way she had fixed it up—the walls had been plastered and painted, she had bought a few throw rugs to cushion her feet from the cold and unyielding floor, and she had gotten rid of most of the vermin. While scarcely luxurious, it was now almost comfortable if one could ignore the fetid water and the inadequate heat. It was a shame to give it up after all the work she’d put into it, but it made her happy to see it one last time.

What would tomorrow bring? Would she placate the Caretaker and find a place at the Library? She hoped so. There, she’d be safe from her enemies, and she might even convince them to admit Shan to study, too. Holed up with the Scholars and their books for a season or the rest of their lives, what could be better? She smiled at the thought of waking up next to her best friend in the morning, giving her a hug and a kiss before heading off to breakfast, then diving into the stacks for whatever research suited her fancy. It didn’t have to be AI. It didn’t have to be technology of any sort; she didn’t care as long as they let her stay. And then, in the evening, they would lay down together, sleep together, and make love whenever they wanted.

It was a crazy dream, but if you’re going to dream, dream big.

Ah well. It was getting late, and it had been a long and difficult day, so she went into her bed-chamber to lie down and get some sleep. She settled beneath a thick stack of blankets and quilts, and though the room itself was as cold as ever—barely ten degrees—she felt snug and happy.

Kim was just beginning to drift off to sleep when the video screen snapped on of its own accord.

Dammit. What now?

She looked up at the screen. It was a UCE rally, presided over by none other than her dearest friend and benefactor Deputy First Minister Venn. Kim wished she had a brick or a hammer handy, and was about to go searching for some suitable instrument of destruction, but then thought better of it. This might be important.

“I come before you to announce a great and glorious victory in our never-ending struggle against the forces of wickedness and self,” said the radiant figure addressing the faithful as part of the week-long festival celebrating the start of the year.

“Unity! Community! Equality! All are One when One is All!”

Over and over, the crowd roared its approval. It was nauseating.

“I speak of none other than the final solution to the curse of Genderism, that most pernicious of evils.” Her voice thundered through the immensity of the chamber. “As of today, but a handful of them remain at large, and when they are eliminated, as they surely will be, our victory shall be complete.”

The band struck a triumphant fanfare as the Cadre proclaimed their adulation, whipping the congregation into a wild frenzy as the Serene One’s visage grew ever larger and more radiant, glowing with an inner light of its own.

“This is a victory of all of us, and it is only fitting that we give thanks to those who have demonstrated their selfless dedication to the three great principles, giving of themselves the full measure of their devotion to lead us forward from victory to glorious victory!”

Cheers and chants, fireworks and music as the mantras were repeated again and again.

“Unity! Community! Equality! All are One when One is All!”

“All have done their part,” she continued when the adulation subsided, “but one, in particular, stands tall as a champion of We the People assembled here today. And for this, we should all give our thanks. Come down, brave defender of the righteous, come down and be known!”

The heavens opened and, lit by beams of purest light, a majestic eagle was seen soaring on high. Around and around it went, lower and lower as the music built in intensity. The Cadre raised their arms in triumph as the people stamped their feet and chanted in expectation.

“UCE! UCE! UCE!”

One, two, three times, it circled the crowd, once for each of the Three Great Principles, and then, at last, it alit upon the dais and morphed into human form arrayed in robes of purest white.

“UCE! UCE! UCE!”

It looked just like Kim, but it wasn’t—it was Kimberly. She stared in horrified disbelief. What was her AI doing on the dais?

As much as she loathed and feared the UCE Hierarchy, she had always assumed that they were human. That confidence was now shattered as she realized that she had never seen Venn, Lo, or the other senior ministers in the flesh, and she doubted that anyone had. There was no proof that they were real. If not real, then what were they? Who had won the war? Humanity? The AIs? Whatever had happened, it was monstrous on a scale that she could scarcely imagine, and if she had even the tiniest chance of setting things right, she knew that she must, regardless of what it might cost her. There was too much at stake.

“What part of ‘go away and never come back’ didn’t you understand?” Kim had departed at the crack of dawn and was now facing Richard, her arms folded across her chest as she blocked Kim from passing through the turnstile.

“I’m not here to cause trouble. I wanted to return the things Shan and I borrowed from the vestibule and also to discuss the matter of the refund. Could you let your boss know that I’m here?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the Caretaker, who had emerged from the reading room moments after Kim had entered the lobby. “I’m glad to see that you’re not a thief, though you might have asked permission before helping yourself to my property.”

“I apologize for the presumption,” said Kim, smiling as pleasantly as she could manage, “but I didn’t think you’d want us to die out there.”

“No, I suppose not. Now, what about my refund?”

“I should like to discuss the matter with you in private,” said Kim, glancing toward the guard.

“This isn’t another trick of yours, is it?” said the Caretaker, halfway cracking a wry little smile. “If you have my money, you can hand it over to me here and now. You can trust the guard’s discretion, she has been with us her entire life.”

“I don’t doubt her discretion, but Len was insistent that I deliver her response in person and in private.”

“Do you have my money?”

“You’ll have to hear me out to learn the answer.”

“My, you are a cheeky one. Very well, I will accommodate your request.”

“I will admit your note amused me,” began the Caretaker, leaning back comfortably in her high-backed chair. Her attitude seemed much improved from yesterday, so much so that Kim began to wonder what might be up. Something was going on behind the scenes, but what?

“That was Shan’s doing,” said Kim. “Please don’t judge her too harshly. She means well, but she can be impulsive on occasion. We went to school together, and she landed us in the headmaster’s office more times than I care to think about.”

“I don’t doubt it,” answered the Caretaker with a smile, “but the way she led Michael on was dishonest.”

“Not entirely.” Kim chose her words carefully, doing her best to soothe the Caretaker’s ire. “Everything she said was true enough—though she did neglect to correct Michael’s understandable mistake. And her presence here is entirely legitimate: she really does intend to come here and study Michael’s religious texts.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Kim. “Last summer, Margaret found Shan wandering down the road, disoriented and near death. She took her to her monastery and nursed her back to health. When she announced her pilgrimage to come study with Michael, Shan volunteered to accompany her and help her on the road. They made it as far as Philadelphia, but then Margaret had her accident. She asked Shan to continue in her stead, and of course, she agreed.”

Kim then extracted the sealed envelope from inside her jacket and handed it to the Caretaker.

“This might help clear things up—a letter of introduction from Margaret’s abbess. Unfortunately, things blew up with Michael before Shan could give it to her.”

The Caretaker broke the seal and read the letter before returning it to the envelope, smiling as she did so.

“This does seem to confirm what you have told me. It mostly concerns Margret’s request for access to our collection, but it does refer to her traveling companion as a ‘well-intentioned rascal’ of sorts. I will give this to Michael. Perhaps she will consent to let Shan continue in Margaret’s place, perhaps not. That is the best I can do.”

“It’s more than I might have hoped for,” said Kim. “Thank you.”

“And now, on to the matter of your own desire to use the Library. As of yesterday, I had decided to deny your request, but I may reconsider. I will give you one more chance to convince me, but I do not believe you have been completely forthcoming.”

“No, I have not, and for good reason. I thought everyone—including you—would be safer if I kept certain details to myself, but perhaps that was a mistake. I will now fill them in for you, but you must promise to keep this strictly to yourself.”

“Certainly,” said the Caretaker. “Go on.”

“I already told you about how the AIs are going mad and how I’ve been searching for a way to restore their sanity. What I didn’t tell you was how I found out about this place. A few nights ago, I happened to stay at the house of an ancient known as Akari. I believe you know her.”

“Yes, quite well,” said the Caretaker. “We became friends when we were both much younger, before she had constructed her bathhouse and before I had assumed my present duties. We have kept in touch ever since, and I have been known to enjoy her hospitality from time to time. Did she let you use her Sanctum?”

“Yes,” said Kim, “though I’m surprised to hear you use that word. I have, until now, only heard it used in reference to the facilities used by Creators such as myself.”

“It is of broader application, used by all who maintain a presence in the other world.”

“Such as yourself?”

“No, not I.” A wistful look crossed the Caretaker’s face. “I have visited it on occasion, but this one has a far stronger hold on me. I leave such matters to persons wiser than myself.” She then leaned forward, looking intently into Kim’s eyes, searching for any sign of deception. “I assume you saw something while you were there.”

“I won’t tell you the whole story. It was intended for me and me alone, but it all revolves around someone referred to as Professor Nix. She was a scientist who lived a long time ago and seems to have been instrumental in the creation of the AIs. I’m looking for her laboratory, someplace called The Turing Institute, and was sent here by Akari to find it.”

The Caretaker leaned back in the chair and smiled. “Then your search is over.”

Kim looked at her, dumbfounded. “You mean it’s here, at the University?”

Kim was wholly unprepared for this. She had assumed that the quest for this mysterious professor and her lab would be the task of a lifetime, involving years searching for clues among dusty old tomes, culminating in an epic journey to some far distant land, where she would, at last, discover the secrets hidden within that mysterious book and beyond the door of Nix’s Sanctum. The last thing she expected was to find it here, practically on her own doorstep. It did, however, make a huge amount of sense; why would the unseen hand not send her directly to her goal?

The Caretaker nodded. “When I first took this position, my predecessor told me that people might come here from time to time seeking it and that I should grant them access if they seemed to be of good character and properly qualified. I am doing so for you.”

Kim was increasingly puzzled by the Caretaker’s sudden change of heart, and she didn’t think it was due to the prospect of a refund. She began to suspect a trap—but she wasn’t going to back out, regardless of the risk. There was too much at stake.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Kim, “except thank you.”

The Caretaker now leaned forward across her desk. “Now that we have seen to your business, what of mine?”

“Of course, the refund.” Kim handed the Caretaker the envelope full of money. “I talked to Len, and she said that she would return the fare on the condition that you never tell anyone. She is anxious to do business with you and made this gesture as a token of goodwill.”

“Goodwill? From a gangster?”

“That’s not entirely fair,” said Kim. “Len is honorable enough, as long as you don’t interfere with her business or harm her riders. I don’t think you understand what it’s like out there. The only safety you find is what you create for yourself.”

“She’s killed people.”

“So have I. So have your guards, unless I miss my guess.”

The Caretaker nodded sadly. “I’ll have to admit you are right. There have been occasions when people have come here from the outside, wishing to loot what is left of the University or to do us harm, and yes, the guards did what they had to in order to protect us.”

“There is another reason I’m here.” Kim smiled, sitting comfortably in her seat. “After I’m done with my investigation, I’d like to stay. I know what you must think of me, and you’re right to be suspicious, but please, give me a chance. I didn’t ask to be sent to the outer districts. I’m tired of the violence, and I don’t want to die. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The Caretaker’s face revealed no hint of emotion. “I will consider the matter. You seem intelligent, and I think you’ve been as honest as you can be. As for your request to access the laboratory, here is the key to the gate. Please do not remove anything from the premises. No more borrowing, okay?”

“I give you my word. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“No, I think that covers it. Good luck, for what it’s worth.”

The sun was still low in the sky, and the wind itself stood breathless as Kim set out for the laboratory of the mysterious Professor Nix. Would the book still be there? What would it contain? Her insides were wound tight with excitement, and it was all she could do to keep from sprinting all the way to her destination, but that would be a foolish risk—the sidewalks, though shoveled clear, remained icy, and the last thing she needed was to be sidelined by an injury. She forced herself to calm down, doing her best to relax and enjoy the walk. It was, after all, a pleasant enough morning—though cold, it was sunny and bright with only a few wispy clouds in the sky, as fine a day as one could imagine this time of year.

It made her happy to be here, on campus, buoying up her spirits in a way that was hard to explain. If the ancients were guilty of a tenth of the crimes of which they were accused, then they had much to answer for—yet they had known beauty and appreciated it, as well as freedom and learning, things not valued today. In its passion to provide for the material needs of the people, society had forgotten those intangible things and, in doing so, lost its soul. Kim was certain that this had contributed to the decline of civilization, now so apparent, though she was hard-pressed to understand how. Perhaps it had something to do with the reduction of all life’s problems to a matter of engineering, concrete problems with concrete solutions that might be addressed on an industrial scale.

When Kim had visited this place on her first day in the outers, she’d gleaned only the vaguest clues as to what the purpose these ancient structures might have served, but today, supplied with a map by the guard, she at last understood. That gothic structure across from the library? It was the chapel, dedicated to the worship of the gods, that of Abraham and others. Foolish though these ancient beliefs might seem, there was wisdom in them—and kindness too. Buildings for history, buildings for science, buildings for philosophy and the theory of government, one after another, in varying states of decay or preservation as the case might be. How grand it would have been to be a student, to have lived here and dedicated herself to a life of learning. Alas, she had been born too late, and while the buildings remained, they were little more than corpses, empty and vacant. Perhaps the University would live again one day, but Kim doubted she would be around to see it.

She came at last to the place she sought: a brick building six stories tall with a glassed-in atrium and two symmetric wings. She inserted the key provided by the Caretaker, and pulled open the rusted metal grate, its ancient metal squealing in protest. The moment of truth was at hand. She would be meddling in matters of vital importance to both the companies and the Hierarchy, the power of which rested on control over the AIs. Succeed or fail, if she were caught, the consequences would be severe beyond imagination. She could still turn back, and perhaps she would have but for the things she had seen last night. This would doubtless prove to be another of her famous bad decisions, perhaps of epic proportions, but that had never stopped her before and it wasn’t going to stop her today.

At last, she entered the atrium, still magnificent despite the ravages of time. The great wall of glass that had once admitted abundant light was clouded by decades of accumulated dirt and grime, lending a subdued, heavy-hearted tone to this space that had once been so light and airy. Of greater concern were the seals on the glass panels forming the roof, which had begun to leak, allowing a steady stream of water to pour down from above, staining the trusswork brown with corrosion then plunging to the floor. The remnants of the chairs and tables amongst which Nixie once had played lay rotting, the areas still covered with carpeting were black with mildew, and the air was foul, ripe with the stench of decay. If it was this bad in winter, she shuddered to imagine was it was like on a hot summer day.

The elevators were out of service—and she would not have trusted them in any event—so she walked down a corridor off to the left, passing many classrooms, until she found a stairwell, its door propped open by a desk. She was not the first to visit this place; the Caretaker had hinted at as much. Her pulse raced with excitement, her senses keen and alert as she squeezed past the desk and ascended through the darkness. No light penetrated beyond the first floor, and she groped her way upward, a death grip on the railing, feeling for each step ahead of her. Flight by flight, she ascended, counting them as she went, at last reaching the sixth floor where she again found the door wedged open. Someone had blazed the trail for her, for which she was grateful. She would leave everything as she had found it.

When Kim emerged onto the balcony, she was both surprised and delighted to see Nixie still nestled in its charging platform. She almost expected the tiny drone to rise into the air and put on another splendid show of aerobatics, but that wasn’t going to happen. Though its mechanism appeared to be intact, there was no electricity to power it.

Kim came at last to the door of Professor Nix’s laboratory, The Turing Institute for Cybernetics, according to the sign. It was electrically operated, opened from within by the push of a button, but she was outside and uncertain how to gain entry or even if such a thing was possible. Maybe the circuits had failed in the intervening decades. Maybe there wasn’t any power. Any number of things could have gone wrong, and even if it was in working order, she had no idea how she was supposed to get it open.

And then, she heard a click, and the door unlocked itself and slid open.

She’d been expected.

The feeling of déjà vu was overwhelming as she entered the lab and followed in the footsteps of Professor Nix. She passed through the reception area where she’d had her final confrontation with Gert, then proceeded down the corridor by which she had returned to her office. It was not much changed from the vision. A few tiles had fallen from the ceiling, and the offices had been stripped bare of furnishings and equipment, but on the whole, everything was much as she remembered it.

And then, at last, Kim reached the corner office, much degraded by the ravages of time; the carpet was threadbare, worn through to its backing; the upholstery on the sofas and chairs faded and tattered, and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

She walked to the window as if in a dream, looking out of it as she had seen the professor do. In the vision, it had been gray and misty, but today the air was crisp and clear, and she could see all the way to the city, looming on the horizon far to the west. The towers of the inner districts soared proudly into the air, scraping the sky, or so it seemed, beautiful and bright, with the sunlight glinting off their exteriors when the sun hit them right.

And then, almost against her will, her eye was drawn to the brooding mass of the Artificial Intelligence Center. She had never seen it from such a distance as this and hadn’t appreciated until now the way it dominated the horizon and the lesser structures clustered around its base. A thousand meters or more of gray concrete punctuated only by its massive ventilation fans, it was both ugly and brutal, a blot upon the landscape, a blight upon humanity. High atop everything was the solitary window marking the lair of the Director. It was far too small to see from this distance without a telescope, but she knew it was there, as was its occupant, sitting atop the pinnacle of power. She was momentarily terrified at the thought that she was even now being watched as if the Director could bore into her heart. Nonsense, of course, but she moved away from the window nonetheless.

She turned around, and there in the corner sat Professor Nix’s mahogany desk, battered and worn. Her quest was at an end. She walked up to it, not believing it was real.

She opened the drawer, and there it was: the book.

It had, over the last few days, taken on a mythical quality, her personal Grail. She’d imagined that it might be the task of a lifetime to locate it or that once found, it might magically transport itself to some distant land, and the quest would begin again. In her darker moments, she’d feared it might have been stolen, or that it might crumble to dust at the touch of a hand, but there it was, exactly as she had seen it.

She reached out her hand.

She picked it up. It was real.

The moment of truth had arrived. She opened its cover, and there were the words of Professor Nix, exactly as she had written them so many years ago.

W15d0m 15 1n +h3 m1nd 0f +h3 b3h0ld3r

Kim stared at it in disbelief.

Was that all? A password? After the importance that Professor Nix had obviously attached to whatever she had written in the book, this was a massive letdown. It’d better be pretty damn important.

Maybe it was. The unseen hand had brought her here. It must have some purpose. But what? As for the book, it was the same text as she’d read at the academy, although with a different title and cover. Evidently, it had been in use for a very long time, unsurprising in this age of ignorance. She committed the password to memory, then returned the book to its place as she had promised the Caretaker.

What was Kim to make of this? She had traced out the steps of Professor Nix, exactly as she had seen them in the vision, but aside from the mysterious password written in the book, learned nothing of any use. If that’s all there was to this, then it had been a colossal waste of time.

There was only one thing left to do, and it frightened her.

Nix’s Sanctum was there, on the other side of the room, just three paces away.

She opened the door. She wasn’t surprised when it powered up. This was insane. She wasn’t really going to plug her brain into that thing, was she?