The infinity dungeon 267

Chapter 267

“Good save with that device,” Michael said after leaping down the half-destroyed house and joining the others downstairs. “You distracted the bishop long enough for Icarus to strike.”

Travis watched him heal himself, the wounds on his face closing at a visible pace and blood evaporating into nothingness. Beside Michael, Icarus was pacing and looking around, tapping his chin and sniffing the air like a cat.

“Glad to have been of help,” Travis said, scratching the back of his head. He wasn’t entirely convinced he had been of any help, but said nothing about it. 

“What about that?” Michael asked, pointing.

“This?” Travis lifted the broken device. “A prototype portable domain emitter. Terribly inefficient: burned a platinum just to overpower the Faith, but it works.”

“I could feel the domain it created,” Michael said with a nod. “And the Origin system that comes with it. It’s a step in the right direction.”

“You bet,” Travis said. “Johanne is already working on the next version of the technology.” 

“Before that,” Michael said, making a circle motion with his finger that encompassed the whole area around them.

“Already on it, don’t worry. The men are waiting at Site 00. You can open the portal whenever.”

Snapping his fingers, Michael summoned a portal. On the other side was the Valley, and Johanne perked up when she saw it appear in front of her. She shrugged, gathered a few things, and then stepped through. Behind her, a veritable stream of people followed.

“So this is Australia,” she said with a hum. “Interesting. Shall we get to work?”

She commandeered Travis and all the operators she could, and immediately started drawing lines in datascript on the ground. Michael watched her for a while as she literally drew with chalk on the reddish rocks of the place, not even bothering to use a light to see. Above them, the milky way was shone with a million stars, bright and powerful this far away from any light pollution.

A tap on his shoulder. Turning around, Michael came face to face with Icarus. The AI didn’t even seem to realize just how close they were, distracted by something all around. Then, finally, he spoke.

“This is before we used the spiral,” he said.

A hologram only the two of them could see appeared in their vision. For Michael, it stood right between him and Icarus, but he could still see his face through it. His skin was smooth and slightly pale. 

“This is after.”

The hologram changed, and it was enough to banish all distractions from Michael’s mind.

“The area of influence,” he said. 

“It shrunk,” Icarus said, dismissing the hologram and turning around. Wings appeared on his back, made of red lines like a mesh of lasers, and he took to the skies. 

Michael followed him. From above, he could see the lone rock formation where the dungeon was located. Beside it was the half-destroyed wooden house and the failing vegetable garden. Operators were already cleaning up the bodies inside, taking away all the evidence of the ritual for later study. 

They still had to decide whether to call the ritual devilish or demonic.

A few hundred yards away, close to where the Faith had been holding the dungeon mana trapped, Johanne was drawing her datascript on the ground. 

“Let’s try using it again,” Icarus said.

Michael had already a hunch about what the AI wanted to do, but he said nothing. Icarus had been getting better and better with magic, and right now he seemed taken by inspiration. His very first moment of inspiration, and it would not do to disturb him. 

He let Icarus lead. The two summoned the spiral–a single one this time. It manifested, smaller and gentler than the terrible power used to subdue the bishop. Under Icarus’s guidance, the spiral was unleashed upon the mana of the dungeon that suffused the air all around.

Its gravity took hold, a suction effect pulling mana and magic toward them and up into the sky where the black hole had physically appeared in the world. As the magic entered the inner space, it went down the funnel they had built for exactly this purpose.

Michael smiled when he realized that Icarus wasn’t done. They seemed to have had the same idea.

I’m so proud of him.

The funnel branched, datascript gently guiding the dungeon magic to the side, where a data room was waiting for it. Data rooms had quickly become the go-to structure for any temporary project in the inner space, capable of replicating any effect thanks to their datascript, sacrificing efficiency for versatility and speed.

Inside the data room, the magic condensed and slowly took physical form. It became egg-shaped, then coin shaped, then with a pop, an actual copper coin clinked to the ground.

Icarus beamed. “More!” he said excitedly, and the spiral eagerly complied.

Still struck by inspiration, he let the black hole have a part of the energy, reminding Michael of the time he had given the spiral a coin like he would a good dog. The spiral happily ate of the flow of magic, intensifying its pull on the world with care and never with violence.

Soon, silver coins were appearing in the data room, then a single gold coin. A few more silver coins appeared, and finally the flow ceased.

Back in the real world, there was no more magic in the air. Only after a few seconds did Michael feel it return, weak and rarefied, emerging from the dungeon like a sweet scent of baked bread carried by the wind. Beside him, Icarus was panting in exertion, but there was a big, dumb smile on his face.

“Congratulations,” Michael told him. “Your very first moment of enlightenment.”

Icarus had to take a few seconds to fully parse what had happened, standing there in the air like he was frozen. Not even his wings were beating.

Then he was on Michael in the blink of an eye, hugging him and twirling in the air.

“I did it!” he cried to the wind. “I finally did it! I used magic intuitively, just like you do!”

“That you did,” Michael said as he let himself be dragged through the vault of the sky by Icarus. “And it’s just the beginning.”

As he let Icarus carry him here and there, soaring the skies together, he had a hard time picturing the man for what he really was. Not a man, despite him tolerating the pronoun for ease of conversation. A superintelligent AI. A billion billions concurrent threads simultaneously monitoring the whole world. Planning. Scheming. Calculating. Doing science and philosophy, running social experiments and manipulating people. 

He was the same, he realized. The data lines in the inner space, they were as much part of him as they were Icarus. Sometimes he seemed to forget, but there was a little bit of him in every single one of those billion threads.

He closed his eyes and let the rush of the wind drown the noise of his thoughts.

***

Johanne was obviously ecstatic about this new development, as was Travis. The man, however, was quick to point out that they shouldn’t grow complacent only because they could shrink potential areas of influence, and that the Origin system was still the answer to all their problems. He also insisted that they should keep their eyes open, because if a dungeon in Australia has managed to fly under their radar for so long, then who knows what else did. 

When Michael mentioned that Faith was to blame, it only served to energize the man further. He spoke of plans and counterattacks, of progress here and setbacks there, of things to do and people to meet.

They all stopped for a moment to watch the shield rise from the earth around them and close at the zenith of the sky.

“Thus Site 01 is born,” Travis said solemnly. Then, as a second set of datascript brought forth Michael’s domain, he went back to arguing in favor of the Origin system. He called an operator over, and had the man manifest a tiny spiral above him. “Look, now everybody with the system can use the spiral.”

“In a limited fashion,” Michael added.

“It is enough to give us a fighting chance against Faith. Michael, don’t you see just how momentous this is? Now we can finally fight back.”

Michael laughed. 

Travis crossed his arms. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” Michael said. “I had already decided to work on the Origin system!”

“Then why did you let me ramble for half an hour?” the man demanded.

“You just weren’t stopping! And I admit it was rather fun to watch. Now, are you also going to connect to the system?”

Travis looked away, cringed, then looked at him again. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not going to force you to. David will not be using it, for instance.”

“I know,” Travis replied. “I will be connecting to it. It’s only right that I, as the head of Candle Light, follow proper protocol.”

Johanne also joined them. “I am done with the preliminary datascript formations. They are temporary,” she said, emphasising the last word. “I will work on the return portal and then I will be off to work on the domain emitters, both portable and non-portable. They will not be cheap to run, but I already have ideas on how to make them more efficient. Can I borrow Icarus to help me out?”

“I always help you out,” the AI said. 

“I need your physical body there. Can’t you manifest more than one?”

“I don’t like the idea of two me’s going around.”

Johanne cocked her head. “Do you not run billions of threads of yourself at the same time all the time?”

“It’s different,” the AI argued. As he did so, he did not notice that he had grabbed Michael's arm and was clinging to him tight.

“Drop it,” Travis said, shushing Johanne before she could pester the AI further.

She obeyed, but did not hide her annoyance. While she worked on the portal, they could hear her mutter about not understanding why an AI would be so subject to strange whims. At a certain point, she stopped in place while welding some circuitry on the half-completed portal frame, then her face darkened. She looked like she wanted to cry, approaching Michael timidly.

“I realized, only too late, that I overstepped. I apologize to both you, and Icarus. He is your creation, and you made him this way. I have disrespected both you and him.”

“I accept your apology,” Michael said. “Except, you got something wrong. He is no longer anyone’s creation. He’s his own person. Apologize to him instead.”

She did, and Icarus patted her on the head and smiled at her. Despite her words, he looked at her with fondness and a level of understanding and empathy not even Michael felt toward her, like the two of them shared something profound about themselves that allowed them to understand each other better. Johanne went back to work, and Icarus joined her. The two talked as if it was the first time they had ever talked.

Perhaps it is the first time they talk for real, like equals and not like a master and her machine, Michael thought. This makes two people I’m proud of in a single day. You know what? Travis too.

He turned to the man in question. As he did, he felt something deep within him, connecting to the Qi moving in the air all around, what little of it there was. He knew why that was, of course. The First Pillar. It knew what he was about to say, almost as if Michael’s actions had consequences all the way to the depths of the dungeon.

“I’ll let you work on Site 01 as you see fit, Travis. I trust you will do a good job with it.”

He snapped his fingers and teleported, the magic of the domain allowing him to step once and find himself at Site 00, as if he had never even moved. In a sense, he had not. The two domains were both an extension of him.