Authors: Joshua Wright
The android previously restraining Searle by the shoulder had removed his imposing hand, and Searle was now barking commands to it over the roar of the symphony. Two choirs, one in the balcony above Sindhu and the other in the nave of the cathedral, were singing counterpoint to each other, debating the veracity of Peter’s statement that he did not know Jesus.
And then it all disappeared. The holograms faded, the choirs blinked away, the vibrant vocals stopped, their reverberations stopping a second later.
“Remain still,” Sindhu shouted violently toward Searle as she dragged her ailing right leg behind her. The cut above her knee had stopped bleeding long ago, but her kneecap was fractured. Searle noticed her wincing with every desperate step she took. A trail of blood splotches were left on the floor behind each footstep, remnants of the hole left by the bullet that had whizzed through her foot.
Searle ignored Sindhu entirely; he had correctly deduced that with the death of Coglin and Kane, he had become acting CEO of NanoRegenSoft. As such, the androids were under his purview. He immediately ordered two of the androids to take Dr. Kya Okafor to the infirmary. The pair of autonomous robots ripped off a section of a pew seat to use as a makeshift gurney and gingerly moved the doctor onto the cushion. They stood and carried her toward the rear of the church.
Searle then notified security of Coglin’s death and Kane’s sudden resignation (explaining Kane’s untimely death would have complicated matters; in the NRS corpNet, the pair’s status merely showed as “terminated”), and instructed them to send a doctor from one of the other Titus wings—whichever could get to Kya the fastest. He was confident that the autonomous infirmary could manage to keep her alive in the meantime.
The door to the cathedral slammed shut as the androids and Dr. Okafor left the room, leaving only Korak, Sindhu, and a forgotten Dylan.
“I said to stand still!” Sindhu’s eyes flared wide.
Korak turned around and faced Sindhu. He hadn’t even heard the young Indian woman until now. She stood in front of him, wavering in physique but sturdy in opinion.
“Who
are
you?” asked Korak slowly.
“My name is Sindhu. I represent those across the world who have been repressed for so many decades they no longer recognize their oppressors. You, your predecessor, and NRSCorp will be held accountable for your atrocities. I am leaving this facility now. You can either come with me and make a full public admission on the darkNets, or I can kill you now. I don’t care which you choose, but choose quickly.”
She cocked the gun.
Searle looked startled, and then his thin lips began to curl upward. A slow laugh trickled out of him.
“Little girl, I’ve been fighting to save the sinners you speak so lovingly of before your mother was old enough to bear you—”
“Patronizing the woman with the gun is not wise. Make your choice.”
“If you shoot me, you will not make it out of this facility alive. I’ve called an android back, he will be here—”
The door flung open and one of the identical androids walked in, arm raised, finger pointing at Sindhu. She quickly ducked behind Searle and plugged the tip of the gun into his ear.
“Tell it to stop walking, now!”
Korak’s lips pursed and the android’s feet continued to clack against the tiled floor. Sindhu flicked her wrist and fired the weapon. A bullet zipped past Korak’s ear and broke a chunk of plaster out of the red ceiling far above them. Korak let out a yell and brought a hand up to his ear, trying to alleviate the pain from the sound of the bullet firing.
“Now!” she yelled through gritted teeth.
“Halt,” Korak spoke softly and the android stopped. “If she kills me, kill her and her friend over there.” Korak motioned to Dylan, who was still slumped on the pew. The android said nothing.
At this juncture, a slight buzz sounded in Korak’s ear. He waved his finger slightly and received a message in his ocImps, which read:
[AndrewChancellor, SecurityExpert Level5, 08:40:24] Mr. Searle, I’m sorry to bother you but we’ve received a report that a fire broke out at your Bellevue-area home this evening. A representative from the PacificNorthwestFireProtectionCorp is waiting to speak to you at your earliest convenience. Tunneled secure interCorp contact link to follow, holoVid req with a Mr. Simeon.
Searle began to swipe a response, but the gun against his temple quickly reminded him of his predicament.
“One more gesture and I pull this trigger!”
“Miss, I do believe your boss is trying to contact us. No gesture I make will cause your gun to disappear out of your hand. May I please proceed?”
Sindhu hesitated uncharacteristically—she cursed her overwhelmed body—and Korak began waving his hand again before she could make up her mind of what to say next.
“You have five seconds,” she added, using her most intimidating timbre.
[KorakSearle, ActingCEO Level12, 08:41:24] Pipe him through, direct holoVid, asap in the ThomasKirche.
A beat passed and the image of Simeon materialized in front of both Sindhu and Searle. Immediate recognition of the situation set in: His eyes flared with flames and his arms flexed as he brushed his long hair out of his face (his ponytail had long since come apart). He didn’t wait to be addressed to speak.
“What are your intentions, Searle? What happened to Coglin?”
This is your chance, Korak
, spoke a little voice in Korak’s head.
“Coglin’s dead. I am acting CEO of NanoRegenSoft, and that’s a formality. I already have the backing of the board. But why I need to explain this to a nobody-outlaw is beyond me. You and your organization have been a thorn in our side for decades, Mr. Simeon.”
“That won’t change because of Coglin’s death. We will never stop fighting for what’s right.”
“What’s right? Is that slum behind you ‘what’s right’?”
It most certainly is not, Korak . . .
“Are the iniquities of the lesser man ‘right’? If so, then by all means carry on, but we will crush you. You shout from the safety of your anonymous darkNet bully pulpit, while I preach from the true pulpit of God. You may disagree with our methods, but we are trying to raise mankind, not leave it where it presently resides: in the gutter.”
“How dare you claim the moral high ground when your androids just executed one of your own employees not twenty minutes ago?” Simeon fired back. “Your team set fire to this helpless slum. Children are being treated for burns as we sit here talking, and you claim you’re helping? Not to mention the brainwashing underway in the Titus facility. And your outright theft of Dylan Dansby—a human being stolen for his body and mind? Coglin’s plan may have failed, but you were complicit in planning to use Dylan as a replacement for Coglin. You deserve his fate. We will never cease our efforts.”
“SOP does not believe in violent uprisings against persons, but we have no issue with the murder of a corporation.”
Korak hesitated. He understood Coglin had long since lost his way and had certainly crossed lines that were several paces beyond immoral, but—
—the greater goal is still alive, valid, and pure! And still within reach! This is our chance to lead! You can rid yourself of the thorn of SOP once and for all—something Coglin was never able to do himself. Do this now, and the greater good will reign.
“You speak of murder, but I was not complicit. I did not know. Perhaps my predecessor did go too far.”
Or perhaps he didn’t go far enough.
“Or perhaps he didn’t go far enough. I could wipe you out in five minutes.”
And you will . . .
“And I . . .”
Sindhu pressed the gun harder against Searle’s temple as Simeon responded, “This is all being recorded. As soon as we release this to the darkNet, there will be an uprising the world has never seen. It will unleash the darkNet versus corpNet war that’s been building for decades. Corps will be digitally destroyed, economies will perish in the flip of a bit; your ilk will lose trillions in the blink of an implanted eye. I dare you to do it. Do it!” Simeon gritted his teeth and growled slowly, “Make me a martyr.”
And Simeon meant every word of his speech. He stretched out his hands for greater visual effect. Korak sneered in response as Sindhu pressed the gun harder still.
“Wait, please stop.” Although the effete entreaty came from a few meters away, it no less shocked everyone as much as any of the spectacular events had already. Standing without anyone noticing him doing so, Dylan had managed to walk next to Simeon’s holograph. He had been awake and processing information, but it wasn’t until the mention of his name that he was able to descramble his thoughts into cohesive ideas.
“I’m having . . . my mind is—it—isn’t right . . . but I know who I am. I am Dylan Dansby. I am idempotent. I’ve pieced together what Coglin was trying to do. But this—what you are all discussing—this, this isn’t right.”
Back in the yurt, Kristina brought her hands up to her mouth to quiet her sobs of joy at Dylan’s pronouncement.
Simeon began to speak, but Dylan raised a hand to quiet him. “Look, I’m a business developer. I help competing parties find common ground, find a way to stand taller in harmony rather than wasting resources tearing each other apart. I’ve been doing it my whole life and I’m good at it. I can tell you right now, there is an opportunity here.”
Dylan had their attention. “You, Searle, I’ve seen you hesitate when faced with the killing of innocents, back in the slum in Mexico—I was there as a virtGhost. You’re a man of faith. This can’t sit right with you.
“And you, Simeon, you are a man of conviction—killing isn’t you. A war? Do you really want a war? Do the people in the slums want a Net war? Is this really the best way to help them?”
Dylan began to teeter, and was just about to fall when Sindhu spun around Searle and grabbed Dylan under the shoulder. Her aim never wavered off of Searle’s forehead.
“Thanks,” Dylan mumbled to Sindhu.
“Dylan, I appreciate your efforts,” Simeon said, “especially given your state, but there is simply no compromise when the brainwashing of helpless slum dwellers is ongoing. We are way past the point of compromise.”
“Brainwashing, you say?” Searle cut in. “Isn’t everything a subtle form of brainwashing, Mr. Simeon? How about your group’s treatises via the darkNets? Oh, I’ve read them—long diatribes about the evils of corporations masked in the verbiage of educational brain dumps. Who started the brainwashing here, Simeon?”
Korak held up a hand to allow his words to ring, then took a step closer to Simeon’s hologram and said, “We are educating the poor. Giving them skills so that they may better themselves. Pulling them out of poverty, giving them a clean place to live, with clean water. We are attempting to solve the world’s economic diversity crisis. Sure, we might get the benefit of free work along the way, but why shouldn’t we? We’re doing all the effort here! A corporation! What has SOP ever done aside from being a roadblock to progress? How can you stand there and tell me that we are driven by evil? That is simply not the case.”
“You are indoctrinating them into your religion! Proselytizing through brainwashing!” Simeon shouted back.
“We are teaching them morals! Morals that were lost generations ago. Our metrics show an expected drop in crime of over 50 percent, and that’s if we did nothing from a security perspective!” Searle’s hand was outstretched, pointing admonishingly at Simeon.
“Gentlemen, this isn’t helping.” Dylan was feeling well enough to shake his head in frustration. “Nothing will get solved here. All I’m asking is that, instead of escalating to war right now, you agree to sit down for a discussion over the next few weeks. War can wait. You both have the capability now to wreak havoc on the other. You’ve both obtained a nuclear option. Now, instead of using it, agree to a cold war, enter talks. Hire a mediator, or better yet, let me do it after I’ve recovered. All I’m asking is that you set a date for mediation. And let Sindhu go. And no one else dies today. Why not take this course of action, the course of no war?”
“They’ll never let us monitor their efforts, let alone change their policies,” Simeon scoffed, more to himself.
“Probably not, but it’s worth a discussion.”
“We won’t—he’s right,” Searle said unequivocally.
“Are you certain about that, Korak? I have a feeling your board—who are represented by many wealthy and powerful members—would think differently if faced with this video being released to the darkNets, and the outbreak of an unstoppable darkNet-versus-corpNet war.”
Searle looked away, resolution never wavering from his face, but Dylan could sense he was processing data; he was close, he just had to close. Searle, meanwhile, was battling himself.
This is our only opportunity! Do not fail as Coglin did!
spoke Searle’s inner voice.
It is not failure to compromise. This does not have to be an all-or-nothing proposition! There’s more at stake than my pride!
he told himself.
That’s good, since you are losing that every second you delay! They are all sinners; there is nothing good about them
, his voice countered.
They are made in God’s image, just as we are. Just as I am.
You have lost. You have lost your way. I hate you. I hate being you.
Well, you don’t have a choice in the matter,
Searle decided.
“I’ll talk.” Searle’s eyes swung back to Simeon. “One meeting. Dylan moderates. We don’t meet until he is fully recovered. Until then, our operations go on as they have been. You do not release one byte of information about what you’ve seen here. If one byte is released, all bets are off: I will bury you, no matter where in the world you are hiding. I will set fire to every slum in the world just to burn your corpse. Do I make my terms clear?”
Simeon began to speak, but Dylan cut him off. “Yes, thank you, although you can lessen the histrionics.” Immediately he turned toward the holoVid. “Simeon? Please, just a discussion . . .”
Simeon shook his head, hesitated, then said, “Fine, one discussion, given my terms. They are crystal clear: You and Sindhu leave immediately, unharmed, by way of my graviCopter.”