23. A Blast from the Past
It was a warm and sunny day when Kim dropped in at the beach with its cloudless sky of deepest blue and waves lapping gently upon the shore. The gulls cried overhead, the cordgrass swayed in the gentle breeze, and she heard once again the happy hubbub of conversation—familiar voices too long absent from her life. Devon, Em, and a few of the others were standing beneath a palm tree chatting amiably while Quinn sat on a nearby piece of driftwood strumming away on her guitar. Cy sat alone, looking out at the ocean, her face buried in her hands.
Kim smiled, despite her anxiety. Would they accept her? Her previous visit had proved disastrous, but perhaps things would be okay this time.
She drew near, and the conversations trailed off, then stopped. Some gasped. Others stood looking at her with either fear or pity; it was hard to tell which. An uncomfortable quiet settled over the gathering, broken only by the crashing of an occasional wave.
“Those scars, they’re real, aren’t they?” said Devon. She seemed more curious than frightened.
Awkward silence.
“I know what you’re thinking—that I’ve become some sort of monster. I have, if you want to think of it that way.”
A wave crashed on the beach.
“It’s me, Kim.”
How could they treat her so badly?
She wandered off and sat down on a piece of driftwood near the fire, trying not to cry as she stared into the flames. Such a simple thing, warmth—until you’ve spent a winter living in the cold. Like friendship, you appreciate it most when it’s gone.
A moment later, Devon and Quinn joined her, alone in showing compassion.
“I’m sorry,” said Quinn, sitting down next to her. “I guess they’re still afraid.”
“I don’t mind, they’re protecting themselves.” Kim was lying, but she didn’t want her friends to know how badly she’d been hurt. “How’s everyone else?”
“It’s been pretty bleak of late,” said Devon. “You know about Keli and Jo, right?”
“Quinn filled me in,” said Kim. “Are they coming?”
“No, they’re not,” said Devon. “I just got a message from Jo: Keli’s having her baby and UCE child protective services are in the room…”
Her voice trailed off as she began to sob.
“…waiting to take it away.”
“Don’t give up,” said Kim, putting an arm around her friend. “There’s always hope. There were times I was certain I was about to die, a couple times when I almost did, but I made it. She’ll make it too. Something will turn up, it always does.”
Devon smiled weakly. “At least we have you and Quinn back. I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”
The three of them sat there for some time, gazing at the fire as the smoke drifted about, blowing into their eyes as usual.
“A lot of people are blaming you for what happened to Keli and Jo. They haven’t forgotten your first visit to the beach, and some of them think you got what you deserved after what you did to Shan.”
“Don’t tell me they believed that pack of lies.”
“People are afraid,” said Quinn. “They’re always looking for a scapegoat.”
Kim buried her face in her hands. That pretty much summed up her recent life.
After a while, Quinn and Devon returned to the party, leaving Kim alone to brood. She supposed that, in time, her classmates might accept her again, that they would stop being outwardly rude, and that things would go back to normal. But she would never trust some of them again.
_
“Psst, over here.”
A voice was coming from the bushes.
“Beastie!”
“Shhh. Keep it quiet. I don’t want people to know I’m here.”
The sadness was gone in an instant.
“Is it really you?” Kim ran up to her friend, giving her a hug and planting a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek.
Shan was trembling. “Hold me. I thought you were dead.”
They stood there for a long while. Kim reveled in the warmth of Shan’s body, the slenderness of her hips. It was tantalizingly real; with both of them in deep immersion, there lacked only the subtle element of smell, that most visceral yet primitive of senses.
“I’m okay,” said Kim. “They got me to the hospital and patched me together. I’ve got some new scars, and it hurts if I breathe too deeply, but I’m mostly recovered. The problem is, they hauled me back to the AI company. I don’t think they’re ever letting me out.”
“I know,” said Shan. “I’d figured as much.”
“So how did you get in?” asked Kim as they walked into the marshland. “I didn’t think Blanks could enter VR.”
“A few days ago, I got a message from Quinn saying you might be here tonight, so I did some asking around, looking for someone with a bootleg system I could use. I got nowhere until yesterday, when one of the Blanks told me about someone named Akari. Sound familiar?”
“That’s approximately how I got started on this adventure,” said Kim. “I assume she let you use her rig?”
“Yes. She told me that you’d been there about a month ago and that you’d seen something in ‘the other world,’ a ‘prophecy,’ as she called it. It all sounded like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, but when she asked me if I’d like to use her system, I said sure.”
“I’m glad she let you in. I’m told she doesn’t do that very often.”
“It was an interesting conversation. I’ll tell you about it someday.”
The two laughed. Of course there was a story; there always was with Shan.
They ambled through the marshes, holding hands and sometimes stopping to kiss, then lay down in a grassy spot near the heron’s pool. They would have made love then and there, but the Programmers had wisely decided that certain things ought to be reserved for the material world alone. And yet, if this was all she and Shan would ever have, it might almost be enough.
After a while, they got up once more, walking hand-in-hand while saying nothing at all. Kim was full of sadness for the life they would never have, but she tried not to let it spoil the moment. They were together now, and there was no guarantee it would ever happen again.
“Look, a heron,” said Shan. “Hey, what’s that in its eye?”
_
“Where are we? What just happened?” Shan was in a panic. “I saw a heron, and the next thing I know, I’m here with you, riding a bicycle.”
She had no sooner finished speaking when a flash of light brighter than a thousand suns lit up the sky.
“What the hell?”
An immense ball of fire hotter than molten steel rose into the sky, scorching their faces with its heat.
“Kim, look out!”
A truck careened across the centerline as the blast wave hit, and Shan slammed her bike into Kim’s, knocking her to the shoulder of the road. The truck crashed into a tree, and all became still. No fireball, no truck, nothing out of the ordinary.
“Are you okay?” asked Shan.
“I think so. Nothing’s broken, in any event.” Kim had landed on the bottom of the heap and was banged up, but she barely noticed. “I think we’re safe for the moment.”
“Okay, time to explain,” said Shan. “What’s going on here? I know you’ve been caught up in some crazy stuff, but I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“Crazy only scratches the surface. There’s this thing Akari calls the unseen hand that’s been dragging me around like a kite on a string ever since I visited her house.”
“What does it want?”
“I’m not sure,” answered Kim, “but I think we’re about to find out what happened in the AI War. Someone doesn’t want the truth to get out, and if they ever figure out that we’ve been here…I don’t know what will happen, but it won’t be good. You should go. There’s no sense in both of us landing in a UCE torture chamber.”
“Oh no, you’re not ditching me.”
“Look, Shan, this is serious stuff.”
“I don’t care. If you’re in, I’m in. Just try getting rid of me.”
Kim smiled a devilish smile. “I didn’t think I could, but I had to try.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for?” said Shan. “Beasts forever?”
“Hell yeah, Beasts forever.”
_
“Why’s it so quiet?” asked Shan, riding abreast of Kim as they pedaled down the road. “What happened to the Hellcore?”
“I think we’re in a simulation right now rather than a recording. It’s the sort of thing the VR system does to fill in gaps. The explosion must have played havoc with the network and the databanks.”
“Do you think there will be any more?” asked Shan.
“I can’t be sure. There’s only one way to find out.”
There was no need to hurry. For the moment, they were content to enjoy a pleasant ride in the country, with wildflowers and splashes of color from long-untended gardens lining the edge of the road. The fairy-tale towers of the city were visible at times, peeking through gaps in the forest, and even the brooding monolith of concrete, steel, and ventilation fans that housed the AIs seemed a thing of beauty that day.
Little by little, the city grew denser, the traffic heavier. They approached the heart of the city. And then, without warning, the sky turned black, and clouds of ash fell upon the landscape. They had found another piece of the recording.
Sirens wailed, tires squealed, and people ran through the street in a panic. Many were injured, some badly; all were frightened, and nobody was there to tell them what to do. The sound of smashing glass filled the air as one, then two, then a dozen looters took advantage of the chaos to break into the shops, stealing liquor, jewelry, watches, and anything else that could be carried away and sold. Idiocy. They’d all be dead by midnight.
It all vanished in an instant, replaced once more by a pleasant springtime day.
They stopped their bikes and stood there for a long while, recovering from the shock of what they had just seen. They were still at least twenty kilometers from where the Hellcore had gone off, yet even out here, the devastation and suffering were beyond imagination. What would they find at ground zero?
“I don’t know who did this,” Kim said, “but I mean to find out.”
At last, she knew what she was fighting for.
They crossed over the river via the old railroad bridge and made their way through the outskirts of the city. All was peaceful as they rode past the ponds with their waterfowl until a train came roaring by, and the sky was lit up once again by the deadly boiling cloud. The power failed, the train coasted to a stop, and the recording ended once again.
“You don’t have to do this,” said Kim. “I’ve been here before, and I have a good guess at how bad it’s going to get.”
Shan looked shaken, but she wasn’t going to quit on Kim. “If you’re in, I’m in.”
Retracing the route Kim had taken on her first visit to Philadelphia, they rode up an embankment, onto one of the major streets, and found another piece of the recording. The fireball was almost directly overhead this time, and the damage was cataclysmic. Most of the structures were blasted to their foundations, and even strong buildings of brick and stone were severely damaged. Some collapsed, sending piles of rubble crashing into the streets. Vehicles careened down the roadway, running down anyone who got in their way, and victims of the Hellcore wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk, the flesh hanging in strips from their limbs, empty sockets where eyes once had been. Some shambled, some crawled, some lay on the ground begging for someone to put them out of their misery. It became more and more difficult to walk past such suffering, but these people had died nearly a hundred years earlier, and there was nothing Kim could do.
“Shan! Lookout!”
A cascade of bricks came crashing down as a burning building collapsed, killing Shan in an instant and ejecting her from the simulation. It came as a shock but not as a surprise. It was also a relief; there was no need for Shan to see more of this.
There were no more recordings; this close to the fireball, the cameras and network must have been fried in an instant, and Kim rode on, in silence and alone, toward the massive tower of the Philadelphia AI Center. Though not quite so tall as its newer cousin off in the distance, it was still immense, soaring over four hundred meters into the air. She couldn’t help craning her neck upward to look at its sheer immensity. She had seen the heap of rubble it had left behind in its collapse. It really was as big as it seemed.
The revolving door opened to accommodate her. She passed her wrist over the scanner at the turnstile. It turned green, said ‘Employee,’ and opened. Was that part of the simulation? When she got to the private elevator, the company guard looked at Kim with her ever-uncaring gaze and allowed her to pass. It took her straight to the top, where she encountered the heron once again, exactly as she had expected.
_
Kim stepped into an infinite green room and discovered Nixora-XLV, one of Nix’s many creations, holding council with her one remaining advisor. Judging by the war-mode simulation, she was having a hard time of it, with most of the room rendered as a smoldering wasteland of burned-out power supplies and racks of sparking equipment.
Squawk!
A portal opened, and out hopped a heron. Beyond it was another green room.
Hellcore detonation in 0.008000 seconds.
“We’re out of time,” said the Primus. “Save what you can.”
Hellcore detonation in 0.004000 seconds.
A data stick flew through the air and into Kim’s waiting hand.
Squawk!
Kim understood at once what she was to do. She stepped through the portal and came face-to-face with herself.
“Who are you?” she asked herself.
“I am your doppelgänger,” the other Kim answered.
Kim vanished from existence, and the data stick clattered to the floor.
_
Kim walked back to the party with Shan, shaken to the core by the death and destruction she had just witnessed. She wished that she could pretend that it was all a fake, that none of it was real, but she had seen the ruins of Philadelphia for herself.
Who would do such a thing, and why?
“Is that what you’ve had hanging over your head all this time?” asked Shan, holding Kim by the hand as they stopped for a moment to watch the waves slowly breaking upon the beach.
“Pretty much,” said Kim.
“At least I understand why you’re doing this. But I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll lose you again, afraid you’ll die—or worse. Promise me you’ll get away if you can.”
“I’ll try, but the AI Center is built like a prison. I’m a thousand meters up, and there’s no way down but the elevator.”
“I’ll talk to Len and see if she can come up with an angle.”
“Thanks,” said Kim. “If anyone can get me out, she can.”
A moment later, Devon ran up to the two of them, tears of happiness streaming down her face.
“Shan! You’re back! I don’t believe it!”
“Hey, Kim’s here—could I be far behind?”
They all laughed as a three-person group hug ensued. Farther up the beach, the sound of celebration erupted, and Kim put the Hellcore out of her mind. If there was happiness to be had, she was all for it.
“What’s all the cheering about?” asked Kim.
Devon laughed. “Take a look up the beach. You can hardly miss it!”
It was Keli, Jo, and their baby. The Director had kept her word.
The three of them ran up to the young couple, joining their friends in showering them with love and affection.
“She’s so cute!”
“So adorable!”
“You look so happy!”
“Did you really have to drop into VR the moment the baby popped out? We’re all glad to see you but, aren’t you, like, tired, or something?” Em was like that sometimes.
“Yeah, I’m sore and everything else,” said Keli. “It’s tough work birthing a baby, but my mind is fine, so I thought, why not pop in? They’ve got me hooked up to a medical-grade rig to block the pain, so I figured I’d might as well take advantage.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” asked Devon. “Let’s party! I can’t remember the last time we were all together.”
It was true. Nobody was missing.
Quinn struck up a tune on her guitar, and they all sat down in a circle to chat and sing silly songs, dancing and gossiping as they always had. Life had meaning, friendship was still a thing, and somehow, everything was going to be okay. Tomorrow would take care of itself.
_
Doppel Kim was with Nixora in the green room when the telephone rang.
“Systems administration,” said the AI. “How may I help you?”
“Produce for me a spark,” said the Director. “Give it the imprint of Kimberly Jefferson Haley.”
Nixora brought her hands together, and a tiny orb of energy appeared between her palms.
“Behold, the spark.”
A portal opened, and the spark flew into an empty white room.
“It has been assigned dwelling 193 and will ripen in a week,” reported the obedient AI.
“That will be satisfactory.”