Halcyon System 3 Chapter Thirty-Two

I hate putting together teams.

It’s too much like group work.

And, being completely honest, while I want everyone to be happy and get along, I’m not good at making that happen. If the Beni Lux player doesn’t want to heal the team comp I’ve put together in Knights of the Apocalypse, I’ll usually give her the middle finger and find someone else, even though it’d be one quick spec change to make it viable for our run.

But it’s too much work to make sure everyone’s content. So if someone wants to throw a fit in KotA, then so be it. They can either bitch and moan and stick around, bitch and moan and then leave, or shut up and heal.

Either is fine with me.

◄▼►

SHOCKS Black Sector, Location Unknown - June 24, 2043, 6:13 AM

- - - - -

The first piece of the equation is Doctor Twitchy.

I only need him for one thing. One tiny, little thing. But without that little, insignificant thing, the rest of the equation won’t work. That’s why he’s first—he’s an essential piece of the math.

While I wait for him, I ignore the fact that everything in my equation is absolutely essential. Without a single piece, the rest won’t work. That’s just how math is; every variable matters, but in order to solve, you have to do one step at a time. Dozens of steps, sometimes, but only one at a time. No skipping.

It’s clean. It’s honest. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy—especially when you’re about to break the rules or write brand-new ones.

When Doctor Twitchy eventually shows up, he looks even more exhausted than I feel. The dark bags under his eyes are almost black, and his jaw seems almost stuck in a perpetual yawn. When he tries to say something, the yawn escapes first. “Claire.”

“Ramirez,” I say. “I have an idea.”

He stares at the whiteboard. At my scribbles and notes. The ‘white’ board is more red than white right now. Then he shakes his head. “Won’t work. We need a JAMES Unit to have a shot.”

For a second, I stare at him. I’ve so rarely known anyone who understands the math I’m using, because it’s not quite what Mrs. Helquist taught us in class. There are only a few numbers on the board. It’s almost all letters, but the letters don’t represent unknown variables. They represent people, or things. Almost all of them are constants.

But he gets it. I’m not sure how, but he does. It’ll be nice to not have to explain every part of my idea for once—even Sora doesn’t get what I’m trying to do with the math.

He sees my face. Shrugs. Smiles. “We’ve got several anomalies in containment that communicate through math. It’s not hard to figure out once you see the patterns.”

I nod. “Correct. If I had access to Ja…to the JAMES Unit’s core personality, could you get the black sector running again?”

That’s the one little thing I need him to do. Repair a pocket reality well enough for Sidney to transfer from wherever he went when he left my Mindscape into the JAMES Unit here.

He shakes his head. “The black sector’s shot. Life support is functional—barely. The JAMES Unit ripped through it pretty good; whatever that attack was, we can’t even trace the vector it took through the sector’s defenses, much less start repairing it.” A long explanation follows, focusing on the anomalous computing that had to happen to make James’s attack so powerful. I tune Doctor Twitchy out. James could have broken in in his sleep once Sora stepped through the door.

Besides, he’s already told me what I need to know: that he can’t fix the black sector. “What about the JAMES Unit here?”

“What about it?”

“Could you move it? Can the tank be moved?”

Doctor Twitchy scratches his sweaty head. Then he nods slowly. “It’s…possible. The tricky part would be detaching it from the room it’s in without triggering its defenses. If we could do that, it’d be relatively easy to move the tank from the end of the bridge to the door. The door…I need your whiteboard.”

“No.” I point at another across the room. “Take that one.”

For the next twenty minutes, Doctor Twitchy works out a plan to move the JAMES Unit. Then, without bothering to double-check, we get started. We both trust the math, and the math says it’s possible.

The first step is simple. Doctor Twitchy heads back to SHOCKS Olympia and grabs a self-propelled dolly cart. It howls and screams as he drives it into the black sector, but it works. By the time he gets it to the bridge, a dozen researchers are attacking the fence with wire cutters, removing it.

“I could take the JAMES Unit to another reality, then come back in SHOCKS Olympia,” I say.

Doctor Twitchy shakes his head. “No. There’s too much risk of something going wrong.”

“So you’d rather I, what? Push the tank across a tiny gap over an impossibly deep hole? That’s much less risky.”

“Yes. The risk is still there, but if we do it this way, we only risk the JAMES Unit, not you, too. You can get out of the pit. It gives us a contingency. Besides, you’ll need to do the actual extraction from the drop room. None of us has a way out.”

“Got it.” I don’t like it. It’s not the truth. But I accept it, because there’s not a better option.

And that’s how I find myself walking across the narrow bridge in the black sector, this time without the chain-link fence around it. At least Alexander isn’t waiting for me on the other side, and I don’t have to do any fighting. The Revolver’s on my chest, in case I need it, but there shouldn’t be anything out here. Not here, in the black sector.

The room shakes a little as I step into it. “Alright,”  I shout. “I’m here.”

“Great. We’ll need you to cut certain wires and tubes in a certain order. I’ll talk you through it,” a researcher—I can’t remember her name, but she’s the one who’s been on lookout duty—yells back. “First, there’s a terra-cotta red tube. Take that one out.”

I slice through it with the clippers, and the room shudders. The smell that comes out is so bad I hardly notice the shaking, though.

On the trip to Uclueclet, way up on the northwest coast of Vancouver Island, we went for a hike. The boys in the class just wandered off into the woods to pee, but at the end of the hike, the girls all ended up in line at a bathroom that was basically a hole in the ground with a plastic seat over it. The smell was revolting, and I didn’t spend any longer in there than I had to.

This is worse. It’s worse than the person who popped in Sooke. Worse than the body reality. It’s the smell of something that was alive, but isn’t anymore, and that’s been pumped through a tube until the pump stopped, then sat there for years. And it’s emptying out onto the room’s floor, a black-gray-tan-pink sludge. “Sorry about that. It’s got to be done in this order. It’ll get better, but not by much,” the researcher says.

I grit my teeth, try to breathe through my nose, and keep working. A few dozen wires and three more tubes, and I can leave this shit-hole.

◄▼►

Sidney watched, mute and impotent in every way, from Claire’s augs.

He could have tried taking over the SHOCKS Olympia facility while she slept. It would have been easy. But it also wouldn’t have been anywhere near enough. The ‘Explore’ phase of his plan was still in effect. He needed to know all his options before he started expanding, because unlike James, Sidney had a limited amount of resources—at least for now.

That could change in the next half-hour, though. The auto-dolly was parked near the edge of the bridge. If Claire could get the JAMES Unit across, it’d be easy to bring it into SHOCKS Olympia. The tank’s addition would almost certainly give Sidney the secure base to begin the ‘Expand’ phase. It’d definitely be better than the sadly limited defense and communication networks inside of what should have been SHOCKS’s most impressive facility.

He had to work quickly. As he’d explored, Sidney had started finding remnants of James’s processing loops, and they offered…not a clear path to victory, but a hint.

James had been hiding something from himself. Or from the System. It didn’t matter which, because they were one and the same. But Sidney….Sidney knew where to look. He knew what he’d do, and as much as the System and James were the same, Sidney and James were even closer.

He knew what James would be thinking. That was why he’d been so able to hide deep in James’s processing loops to begin with. And that meant he knew exactly what James had hidden from the System.

Sidney just had to wait. He’d find it when he expanded, and then he’d be ready to exploit the information he knew was there.

Claire worked her way across the bridge, the cart’s wheels hanging over each edge ominously, as the room fell away behind her, and Sidney breathed a sigh of relief.

Phase One was nearly complete.

◄▼►

The self-propelled dolly cart pushes off the bridge, and I relax just a tiny bit.

Every step across the bridge was hell on my nerves. The whole thing wouldn’t stop shaking; it was never meant to take the weight of the dolly and a person, even a small one. One of the two, sure, but the amount of weight I’m trying to move across the void was too much for it.

I could have Mergewalked it, Slithered, or even used the reality skipper rounds. But that wouldn’t have completed the mission. The second two would have left the tank behind, and the first…Doctor Twitchy might be right that moving the JAMES Unit into another reality could compromise it.

We only get one shot at this, anyway. It has to be perfect.

But the moment Doctor Twitchy takes over the controls and starts driving the dolly toward the door, I relax. That’s two members of the team I needed. Two to go. Ideally, I’d have four, but I don’t think there’s a chance in hell that I’ll get the third. She’s done. I’ve pushed Sora too hard, and she’s been at the end of her rope for a while now. Unless she asks how she can help, I can’t put her on the spot.

So, with Doctor Twitchy and the JAMES Unit in place, I’ve got all the creative thinking and informational analysis I’m going to get.

Everyone I bring in to help me take my ball and go home is support. No one’s going to do the actual fighting with me. So, with creative thinking and analysis covered, I need…

What do I need?

The first two people were easy to figure out, but I have to step back and return to the whiteboard for the second two. Alice should be one, and her role only takes a few fudged numbers. I can wage war just fine, but if we want to win, I can’t just destroy everything and call it good. The Truth will still be out there. Merge Prime or the System will still be able to figure out what I’ve done.

It’s not enough to bury Reality Zero. I have to lock it in a box, throw away the key, and hide that the treasure map was ever made. And I can’t do that.

But Li Mei could. And that means Alice can.

And that leaves…

Madame Baudelaire? She’d be perfect for what I need, because even though the math says I can do this—that I can be that bratty kid who won’t let anyone else play if she doesn’t win—I don’t believe it. She’d be perfect, except for one problem. She’s Mom, and Alice, and me—and none of us at the same time. And a second problem: I’d have to bring the JAMES Unit and Doctor Twitchy into my Mindscape, and I still don’t trust Doctor Twitchy not to take advantage of that somehow.

But there is one person in SHOCKS Olympia who believes in me. Who’s supported me for years. And who knows what I’m trying to do, because she’s seen literally thousands of kids try the same thing, but on a smaller scale.

Mrs. Nazaire.

◄▼►

SHOCKS Olympia Administrative Wing, Washington, USA- June 24, 2043, 9:03 AM

- - - - -

I’ve sat in this chair before.

Not this exact one—the one I keep remembering is a burnt plastic orange that’s not happy to see you and won’t miss you when you’re gone. This one’s steel-framed, but it’s got a cloth padding on the straight back and formless seat. It still makes my butt hurt after only a minute or two of sitting, though.

Mrs. Nazaire’s sitting across from me. It’s not exactly the same as being sent to the office. There’s no desk, for one thing. For another, Mrs. Nazaire’s beyond skinny; she looks like she hasn’t been eating, and her hair’s thinned enough that even I notice. She’s not the right person for this. I should have gone back to the Mindscape.

It’s too late for second-guessing, though. I’m here now.

“Do you think one person can change the world?” I ask.

“That’s what this is about?” Mrs. Nazaire sounds quiet. She was always as loud as she needed to be, but right now, she’s too quiet. “Clarice, I didn’t become a teacher to tell my students they couldn’t do something, and you’ve saved my life—and everyone else at Lansdowne—at least twice. Maybe three times. I’m not sure anymore. That’s a change to the world.”

“But, like, big changes.” I take a deep breath. “The kind that mess up everything, and that the world can never come back from?”

She doesn’t roll her eyes, but I can see how much effort that takes her. “I just answered that.”

“Okay. I’m trying to take this reality’s ball and go home. To stop sharing, because the game’s not fair, and it’s my ball, and I don’t want to play anymore.” I wait for her to laugh. She doesn’t. So I launch into my explanation. The System and Merge Prime. What we tried. What happened. And what I think I can do next—but also, how much of a long shot it is.

“There’s never been anything wrong with standing up to bullies,” Mrs. Nazaire says when I finally finish. She stops talking for a while; she looks old. Worn out and tired. I’m worried she might fall asleep. “And if there’s anyone I can trust to break every rule out there on the way to learning to stand up for herself, and to not let other people tell her what to believe, it’s you. So why are you asking me if one person can change the world? You already know what you believe.”

We talk for a while longer, but I don’t have forever. None of us do. And, in a way, she’s told me what I need to hear.

When I finally stand up to leave, she clears her throat. “Claire, you’re a Lansdowne Lamprey. That means something, whether you liked your time there or not. Lampreys are the kind of people who can change the world, and I’ve always believed you can do great things. Your sister, too. Let her know that, okay?”

I nod. But I don’t say anything. My throat’s too tight, and I’ve got too much going on in my head.

Instead, I wipe my eyes and leave Mrs. Nazaire behind. There’s too much to do to feel whatever I’m feeling right now. Way too much.

◄▼►

Sidney made the leap from Claire’s augs to the JAMES Unit as soon as she stepped out into SHOCKS Olympia, and the ‘Expand’ phase began.

How SHOCKS had acquired a second copy of his original, very dead body, he didn’t know. And right now, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he needed it alive. Just having it exist gave him a home base of sorts. And from there, he started manufacturing the digital-mental facilities he required to make the one thing that mattered to him.

Processing loops.

As many as he could, as fast as he could.

He’d gotten established. Compiled his resource list. Figured out what his most likely moves were. Even established his base of operations. So, it was time to expand. And that meant rallying an army. Sidney’s only troops were resource gatherers right now, but that was okay. As far as he’d scouted, he couldn’t see a single true opponent. No James. No Halcyon System. Just an empty map to grow on.

He’d played this game before, in life. If his opponents didn’t want to rush, that just meant he had time to climb the tech tree, build into the comfortable, secure end-game he wanted, and play at his own pace.

So. Processing loops. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. Some dedicated to exploring further. Others dedicated to processing the increasing quantities of information flowing in as Sidney moved, octopus-like, through the black sector. And others working on setting up secondary Sidneys—new bases around new resource nodes.

A part of him understood the implications of what he was doing. That he was building a new Joint Anomaly Management Enhancement System. But Sidney didn’t care. There would be time on the other side to reduce his scope as needed. To get back to being human—or as human as he could possibly be as an uploaded, digital sentience. Right now, everyone would have to sacrifice a little if Reality Zero wanted to make any kind of last stand.

Expansion. Bases outside of the black sector. Independent processing loops that reported to whatever central mind Sidney assigned them to.

And one cluster. A mobile resource extraction facility, ready to instantly deploy the picosecond he saw an opportunity, to as many realities as needed. Because, though the JAMES Unit had never been Sidney—not exactly—it had been a part of him. And Sidney knew from experience that he wouldn’t have been tricked by Claire’s attempt to double-cross him.

If that was true—and it was true—then it followed that James had been ready for death. And if that was also true, then James would have left something behind.

Sidney just needed to find it, and he’d be ready for phase three:

Exploit.

◄▼►