[CHAPTER 10011]

"...I was only a hero by default…"

James Lovell

E.A.R.T.H.

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Machines do not think.

Out of all the things that Corey had said, that alone seemed to play on repeat through his mind. Harry Eisenhower was surprised he could remember even that. His brain felt like mush. The chairman's appeal in order to avoid Britannica's attempt to confiscate GOKIA had been a whirlwind. After two months, much of which had been spent flying between Jersey and the Supreme Court in London, Harry was beyond exhausted. At least it was over. He'd been running on coffee and adrenaline for far too long.

The verdict was now clear. GOKIA would lose many of its subsidies and positive sanctions from the Britannica government, who were also raising taxes and applying a sizable fine for the HORIZON shutdown. As a businessman, Eisenhower knew when to bite the bullet. Given the circumstances he thought the resulting actions were fair. Paying out a few million to the government and getting a sharp telling off were standard this day and age. It was the negative media coverage that did the true damage anyhow.

The full appeal had dug up a can of worms regarding Harry's often questionable dealings. Reading between the lines and it was obvious the businessman had been using his fortune to manipulate space systems science and influence space missions for decades. The Shackleton Circuit orbital ring had only been suggested thanks to the availability of GOKIA technology to make such huge engineering feats possible. If they'd dug any deeper, the court would have found Harry tinkering in a much wider pool of Britannica's technological capital. It was a close call stopping the appeal turning into an arrest and life sentence.

Yet after weeks of evidence, counter-facts, and GOKIA being nitpicked for harmful operations Britannica still claimed to be in action...the appeal was over. The Supreme Court had ruled the final verdict and the case was closed officially. Even four days later, the global media was flinging out senseless hypothetical stories regarding what would change for the technology giant. Harry thought the end of the appeal might have brought some closure. That he could get on with his life.

Instead, all he felt was despair.

'Ughh….' Harry Eisenhower couldn't even describe the dejection he felt. 'Ahhh shit.'

Even swearing left him feeling empty. Sat in the kitchen of his Pinvale property, Harry was glad of the silence. Even if completely devoid of anything personal, the stoic room had the privacy he needed right now. Pushing around a mug of cold coffee on the table before him, Harry stewed over his thoughts. He'd brought an actual newspaper partly as a novel distraction, but also for the front page article. Half of the spread was a grainy photo of Corey coming out of the Supreme Court, looking away from the camera. A headline above claimed to have inside information on the case. The media were still days behind and the verdict had yet to be leaked.

Harry frowned, sipping at his lukewarm drink.

Machines do not think.

If anything, that summarised everything wrong with the appeal. The agreement for GOKIA, and by extension Harry, to remain in control of HORIZON was for Baba to be deleted. That was the price to be paid. Or at least, that was the metaphor Harry Eisenhower reconciled himself with. Baba was caught in the crossfire and the court no longer cared if she caused the disruption or not...only that she was terminated.

It just went to prove that not only was the world still terrified of uncontrollable technology...but that the UN were still running the show. Even fighting his appeal within the Supreme Court, Harry felt like a pawn over which larger powers exerted control. The United Nations had taken the HORIZON crash as an opportunity to tighten the leash on the young, cocky new state of Britannica. Baba was a minor character in the footnotes of history. That riled Harry more than anything.

The large businessmen wanted to believe it was nothing personal. However, the appearance of his ex-wife proved that was far from the truth.

Harry sighed, recalling the events as he swirled coffee around his mug.

They'd met for drinks on Corey's last evening in London. The invitation had been impromptu, Harry picking up the message upon stepping into his hotel in Hammersmith. With a grumble he re-entered the tube station opposite, flashed his lobster card, and got on the Central Line to change for London Bridge.

It was a nice evening for a chat. The evening humdrum of taxis, buses, and the frequent sirens of ambulances enveloped the city in a calming hum of bustle and productivity. London was like that. It had a long history which sucked you in, making you feel like a piece of some bigger collective.

Harry met Corey at a small bar overlooking the river and the lights of Tower Bridge in the distance. She was already at the pub, saving a seat on a table for two lining the street. A travel suitcase was parked next to her feet.

'Wow. All packed up and ready to go eh?' Harry commented, pulling out a seat opposite his ex-wife. Corey graced the man with a smile, explaining she had a plane to catch in a few hours. Harry never learnt where. That alone was an indication that Corey was likely on yet more state security business. Secrecy for the sake of Secrecy. Harry wondered if she ever got bored of the lifestyle, ordering a couple of drinks to talk over.

'So...' The metal-framed seat creaked under Harry's weight as he leant back, 'Wanted to say a last goodbye?'

Corey rolled her eyes, 'Eh. I think we've had enough of those. No. To apologise actually.'

The man froze. Apologise? Almost instantly Harry's mind rushed through a whole failed-marriage worth of things which Corey could confess to. He bit his tongue and remained silent, almost forgetting to thank a server when they arrived with two cold tumblers of fizzy. He watched Corey take a delicate sip, studying the wrinkles on her aging face for the first time. The dyed hair to cover the grey. The far-away look in place to hide however many years experience Corey had tinkering in international politics. A ruse that had become entwined with her personality. The Corey that Harry knew had never been this cold and deliberate.

'I should apologise about the court appeal.' The woman stated after some consideration, setting her drink down. Corey leant forward onto her elbows, resting her chin on soft hands. 'Out of everybody that could of….yeah.' She tried again, 'I...I'm sorry it was me who had to get involved. Especially after everything that has happened between us.'

Harry puffed out a sigh, 'That was a long time ago.'

And it was true. The balding man had told himself the same thing for years now as a way to avoid his lingering feelings. Slowly the lie had become true. Regarding Corey sitting in front of him, sharing drinks on the edge of the Thames, he realised just how much had changed. Harry wasn't the same idealistic computer nerd he'd once been. And Corey...well, she wasn't the easy-going angelic woman he'd fallen in love with. Having worked in international security and whatever else she wasn't allowed to enclose for two decades, Corey had become withdrawn. Her ready laugh was so ingrained into his memory it was like recalling something from a dream. Corey didn't laugh now.

'Yeah.' she agreed softly. 'I guess things have changed. The world's changed...you've changed it.'

'And you? You've been doing your bit I guess too?' Harry ignored the compliment. Corey smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes.

'Yeah. I've been doing my bit. It might not be the glamour that I was expecting….but hey ho.'

That was the closest Harry was ever going to get for an apology. Corey's dissatisfaction in their relationship was only eclipsed by her passion for the glitz and glamour of being a secret service agent. Corey had been a world-class analyst with a natural ability to pick out information from impossibly complex data. It had got Corey a doctorate in mathematics from a major London University...and was the reason why she got spotted by the Britannica Intelligence service. Harry could never compete with the woman's ambition. She knew what she wanted from life and Harry slipped out of that dream like a discarded toy.

'So Gaia.' Harry took a long sip from his drink. Thinking about their past was like prodding an old wound. 'I guess that's what we've got to blame for all of this?'

Corey's blank expression gave more away than the woman realised. Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before grumbling 'Oh come on! I'm not stupid. You're killing Baba as a scapegoat to draw attention away from the reality of the-'

'Harry...!' Corey cut through the man's babbling. A very purposefully shift of her eyes across the street and the row of occupied tables pointed out they were both in public. The look also proved that Harry's suspicions regarding a major cover-up were indeed true.

The woman cleared her throat, continuing in a hoarse whisper over her drink. 'Sometimes it's better not to go public.'

'Well GOKIA have proof, and you know because you kept blocking it during the appeal. I could officially announce it! As in...playing devil's advocate that is.' Harry felt the need to clarify his thought experiment. There was enough tension between the two of them without the man purposefully inciting further conflict. 'A thought experiment to imagine what might happen.' Harry reiterated.

For a long moment Corey didn't say anything. She took a few sips and absorbed the London vibe as a plane buzzed overhead. The woman missed the city and her worry-free days as a student exploring the hidden spots of each borough. An elderly Asian tourist group shuffled past with their softscreens out, snapping photos of orange sunset forming silhouettes out the city's monuments. Harry watched his ex-wide shift uncomfortable in her seat.

Ever since the stunt revealing herself as Baba, images of Corey had hit mainstream media like a firestorm. Just like any other internet trend, it didn't last. However, Corey knew she'd had what in her profession was called an overdose of exposure. At this point, the woman was surprised people hadn't started recognising her in the street. She'd been plastered on the face of every major news site worldwide for the past fortnight.

'This chat isn't in the books as work.' Corey chewed on a lip. Given her public involvement in this case, she hadn't admitted this would in fact be her last assignment. 'You know, like those other favours you bent my arm to get. It would be better if we kept much of this conversation to ourselves. I like to think we can still be friends. It's why I volunteered to be involved in directing your appeal-'

'Stop there a minute...you volunteered? This was your idea!'

The chubby businessman almost raised his voice, only managing to hold a lid on himself when a few eyes looked his way. A young couple on the next table allowing through a controlled and highly judgmental glance in his direction. Corey shared a similar glare. She put down her drink, leaning forward to speak. She waited for an inquisitive man with a couple of kids to pass by, casually wiping at an eye to cover her face.

'Beyond myself, nobody else knows that you know about it. Gaia...or whatever you call it...has been on the radar for years now and it's unfortunate that you managed to trigger some effects. We haven't seen anything like it. I recommend you never let slip what you know.'

'Why? Because it's uncontrollable? Because you have no idea how it became aware and what motives it has, if any?'

'Yes, yes, and yes.' Corey sighed, a hint of frustration underlying her tone, 'It's not something the world is ready for.

Harry rubbed at his chin. 'To the point you're willing to risk HORIZON and maybe even Britannica given the amount I support them? Crap. You're pulling-off one hell of a cover-up.'

Corey took a few moments to stew on that. She leant back on her chair, wiping away a strand of hair caught in the evening breeze. Her eyes settled on Harry opposite. The man was people-watching passing strangers. Harry's face was oddly peaceful, a low frown being the only thing suggesting there was a whirlwind of ideas spiralling beneath his wrinkled brow. Corey was one of the few people that never underestimated the intelligence of the rather unassuming man.

'So, what's the long term goal?' Harry took a sip from his glass, 'Or is that another thing you can't tell me?'

'Not my department. Anyhow, it's not a threat at the moment. I guess it's a matter of learning as much as they can about it. Pick up any signs it's actually thinking.'

'Huh. And suppress any indication that something like Gaia even exists.' Harry joked sourly. Corey grunted in agreement, taking a long sip of her drink. 'So that's it? Hidden in plain sight? You'd risk your cover and GOKIA's reputation just to keep this a secret?'

Harry didn't need to explain how ridiculous the situation was. By forcing the deletion of Baba, Britanica thought they were removing the only AI in existence. Only that wasn't entirely true, given Baba wasn't technically artificial but an adapted copy of a pre-existing human consciousness. The same technicalities could be applied to exDEV, though Baba had been significantly modified to work specifically within the HORIZON platform. In truth, the whole trial had been an attempt by whatever powers were in play to draw attention away from Gaia. It was like publicly hanging an innocent peasant to avoid the trial of the real criminal.

Harry thought it was disgusting. He could only wonder what the game looked like from above. Was anybody truly pulling the strings? Was Corey and the security agency she worked for within Britannica (or even internationally) using him as a playing piece for some twisted game. Could the U.N. still be trying to shut down technological singularity which had now lasted for decades. Perhaps it was simply the paranoia of knowing that a machine like Gaia existed. How did Harry know it wasn't some cold computer intelligence manipulating all their lives like sprites in a game of The Sims.

'For now. We're buying ourselves time.' Corey replied at last. She leant back on her chair, brushing her fringe to the side. The chubby businessman opposite shook his head.

'Please tell me that the UN doesn't know about Gaia.'

'Wha...why would that make a difference?'

'Because they're idiots terrified of their own shadows,' Harry grumbled, 'And they've been fighting all of my ideas to the point that immersion is now practically illegal and they're mutating bloody human hybrids to work in space. They'd rather create biological slaves than have poor people work via computers. It would give me piece of mind to know they're clueless about the whole fuckin' internet has become self-aware.'

'Uh...I don't know to be honest.' Corey admitted with a wry smile. Harry's increasingly hot-headed complaining diffused the seriousness of the situation. Following everything that had happened, the man didn't care as long as some kind of vengeance was served. Corey rolled her glass around with a finger, sloshing the contents as she spoke. 'But it doesn't matter. As long as machines don't think, they don't care. After the sustainability crises, exDEV and everything...the world's focus is on people, not technology.'

'And machines do not think.' Harry replied blandly. Corey nodded in a so-so manner.

They hadn't talked much after that.

The two finished their drinks, chatted about how glad they both were that the appeal was over, and made lame excuses about being elsewhere. Well, Corey did have a plane to catch. The woman stood and pushed in her chair, prompting Harry to do the same. Another couple were obviously loitering against the concrete levee opposite waiting for their space to clear. Corey paused, suitcase handle resting in one hand, taking a long look at Harry. He'd pushed his chair back under the table and tugged a laptop bag over his shoulder. For a long while they're eyes locked. It was as if all the years they'd spent apart, as much as together, seemed to fill the void between them. A buffer of failed love.

It was Harry who broke the silence. He rubbed at his chin, a sad smile crossing his face.

'Look after yourself Corey.'

'Yeah…' The woman regarded Harry for what she knew would be the last time, 'You too.'

And that was it. Harry didn't watch her go, plodding back to the nearest tube station with a odd void where his stomach should have been. The businessman caught a plane back to Jersey the next morning like nothing had happened. He didn't know whether he'd ever see Corey again. To be honest with himself, Harry didn't really care. He'd spent the last three weeks fighting his appeal with the self-proclaimed voice of Baba jumping in and out of proceedings. Corey had been scrutinised and whatever past the judges had found seemed sufficient to have her involved in the case. No doubt they'd been a few strings pulled somewhere.

Stepping back inside his Jersey property should have felt like a relief. However, Harry was too exhausted to feel anything; collapsing on his bed fully clothed to wake up ten hours later to the birds singing outside. He messaged into work so clarify he wouldn't be in for a couple of days, not even knowing whether it was the weekend already. One hot-shower later and he found himself at his kitchen table stewing over a weak coffee.

The down-side of such a stoic home was the lack of anything to divert his attention.

A late-morning walk was as much to waste time as to distract Harry from his worries. It had been years since he last dug up the grief buried deep inside his chest. Hell, Harry had buried enough emotion to form stratified layers of misery when he finally unearthed them. Perhaps it was closure to have Baba deleted? With her ended all Harry's ties with Corey and the antique past which his old relationship represented. The death of Baba, who had been so carelessly based around his ex-lover, brought a strange conclusion that the man found unexpected.

It was a dim, humid morning that shrouded the Jersey coastline. Brisk, clean wind cleared Harry' lungs as he walked the coastal path a stone's throw from his property. A narrow dirt trail followed the tops of the cliffs. It traced a route that encompassed the whole island and took four days to comfortably hike. For Harry, a couple of kilometers up to Ronez Point and back sufficed. Although it gave him time to think, the aging GOKIA chairman wasn't sure whether the walk helped him do anything other than worry.

Today was the deadline for Baba's deletion.

There was no grandeur to the event. Yana parked-up at Pinvale in her little electric run-around, crunching up the gravel path to the front door. The two of them sat down at the kitchen table, staring at each other over the oak work surface. Harry wrung his hands, waiting for the kettle to boil for a cup of tea. It might not have been a grandiose ceremony, but it was fitting. The uploading process had been conceived and coded on a very similar kitchen table what felt like a lifetime ago.

'It's not your fault.'

Yana spoke clearly, blinking more than she should to prevent tears cascading from her eyes. The quirky programmer sighed, shoulders drooping as she bent down into her bag to pluck out an item folded within an old newspaper. The grief played itself across her whole body which dramatised the dejection she felt. Hands shaking, she unwrapped what turned out to be a photograph. Unlike Harry, Yana had a much closer relationship with AI.

'I was wondering where that had got to.' Harry rubbed his chin, eyeing the only possession he had which didn't have some sort of function. It was a picture of him and Corey pretty early-on during their engagement. He was fitter, slimmer, and actually smiling for a change. 'Why did you have it?'

Yana exhaled, 'It was your wedding gift.'

'Yeah…?' The chubby businessman wasn't sure what point Yana was trying to get across. 'From what I remember, you demanded I keep it in exchange for…for...'

'In exchange for creating Baba based on Corey.' Yana finished, drawing out her words. It was the slowest that Harry had ever heard her speak. The programmer turned the frame around, studying the picture herself, before proceeding to unclasp the hard back to the photograph.

'Hey!' Harry went to object, leaning forward but the woman was quicker. Yana snatched the frame away, pulling off the back fold-away stand and plucked the photo out roughly. Wiping at the table between them with a sleeve of her cardigan, she flipped the printed photograph upside down and slid it towards the man opposite.

Harry's flash of anger paled into a grumble of frustration as he looked down at what should have been the blank reverse side of his sole possession.

'What…' He couldn't believe his eyes. 'Fuck sake. You're telling me the whole time that Baba's shutdown command was scrawled over the back of this damn photograph?'

Yana actually smiled, though it seemed rather forced.

'Yep.'

In neat, black biro a short few lines of computer code, as well as a bullet-pointed explanation of where to type the code. A date was written underneath but Harry covered it with his thumb.

'And if I'd lost it? This is the only version of...of…how? Why this?'

'Because it would remind you of the real reason why we created Baba.' Yana explained, crossing her arms as she leant back in her chair. 'And the reason why you broke up...I guess.' She puffed out a breath, hovering on a moment of indecision before bending down to scoop up her laptop. Setting it down on the table, she opened the lid and rotated it around to face Harry.

'You do it.' Yana stuck out her chin, forcing a brave expression even as her eyes welled with tears.

'You….you sure?'

The half-Czech just nodded. Sniffing, she brushed a wild strand of ginger hair out of her face. Harry hesitated over the keyboard, eyeing the screen which was already showing the correct GOKIA command window. He paused over what was most likely the most securely encrypted personal computer in the world, eyes flicking from the laptop to the photo of his ex-wife.

'You've said your goodbyes?'

Yana nodded.

Ten minutes later and it was done. When it came down to the actual coding, the AI's final moments were somewhat underwhelming. Yana had discussed the result of the appeal in detail with Baba to find the computer intelligence was surprisingly accepting of the outcome. She'd spent a good deal of time revisiting her favourite places on the VR platform, enjoying the feeling of data streaming through her awareness, before gently switching processes back to manual configurations. Baba spent a significant amount of time with James, surprised at her own human-like need to be with friends. She was uncertain of the loneliness that James would feel when left to his own devices.

Harry typed in the code and hovered over the enter key.

He was expecting a confusing wash of regretful emotions but there was nothing. Only a sad acknowledgment that the AI's tortuous existence had been a result of his own imperfections. Stabbing a chubby finger down on the keyboard and the script ran within a millisecond, throwing up a confirmation box that the operation was complete.

They sat in stunned silence for a while. Yana dropped her head, staring at her feet. Neither needed to speak to convey the emotions they both felt. Harry made a cup of tea and the two of them moved to the living room, sitting in silence on either side of a leather sofa. They didn't speak, Yana wiping tears from her eyes every few minutes as Harry contemplated the now discarded photograph still lying on the kitchen table.

'You think James will want to do it?' Harry broke the silence. They'd been listening to a wren warbling outside, midday sunshine streaming through the open windows. 'Like, do a similar thing?'

Yana grunted but didn't say anything.

'You've already asked him, haven't you?'

'Might have.' The programmer shrugged. For a moment she studied her hands, a half-emptied fruit tisane discarded on the floor by her feet. 'It's complicated.'

'Ah.' Harry sunk back into his sofa, 'This is going to be about Richard, right?'

'Yep.'

The two simply sat in each-other's company for much of the afternoon, They'd hadn't shared much in conversation beyond small talk. Yana finally got up to leave only once the sun had moved and no longer shone through the bay windows. Harry wallowed in his thoughts.

The next week passed by surprisingly quickly. Harry didn't spend much time in the office, working through hundreds of emails from comfort at home. As chairman, his position at GOKIA was supposed to be involved in little more than big-picture decision-making...not whatever control-freak dabbling he did in every sector of his company. The whole systems science organising his company would have to be re-evaluated, given Britannica were shutting down most of his robotics facilities and exerting heavy pressure on legalities of his VR branches. The whole process was like a ridiculously complex puzzle of untangling the complex network by which the technology giant stayed afloat. To Harry it was just another game.

Damage control following the appeal had become so consuming that the businessman lost track of time. Only a calendar alert on his soft screen reminded him that he actually had anything booked in at work.

'Shit.' Eisenhower swore when he picked up the small tablet and swiped away a list of missed calls. Five minutes later and he rushed through a change of clothes, bolted down a glass of orange juice, and slammed the house door behind him. Getting into his tired estate car wasn't exactly graceful, but Harry managed to pull out of Pinvale Crescent within fifteen minutes and only a couple of miles faster than the speed limit.

One frantic commute later and Harry parked his car outside the GOKIA headquarters. Pocketing his car keys, he didn't even bother locking the company Telsa as he hurried up to the foyer. Given the man's size, it was a fast shuffle up the glass-fronted lobby area. Automatic doors slid open as hastily waved a greeting to the receptionist and headed for the stairwell. Even if his rigorous exercise plan had died a death, Harry had made a habit of always taking the stairs.

Four floors below ground and Harry pushed through two-sets of double doors into the frigid corridor. Thanks to a supercomputer at work, the whole floor was kept at a constant ten degrees. Tugging his jacket tighter around his large stomach, Harry plodded along to Yana's office at the far end of the hallway. For a second he paused at the doorway, his large fingers resting on the door handle. Puffing out a sigh, Harry settled the butterflies in his chest and nudged the door open.

The large office inside was dead silent. Harry knew he was late, but didn't realise he was that late. Everyone had gathered at the far end of the room. Jean and Mark were leaning over the back of Yana's leather chair. Even Eva, the young Scott who had been adopted into the programmers' little family, was knelt next to the desk. Nobody even looked up as Harry slogged in, eye focused on a single computer monitor.

'How's it-?'

'Shuuuush!' Harry's greeting was cut short by an angry hush from Yana. She clicked on a mouse a few times, opening a white screen crammed full of rows of constantly refreshing computer checks. No wonder they got an AI to look at stuff. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching a scene from the Matrix.

Inching forwards, Harry shared a rueful grin with Eva before also turning his attention to the computer screen. For a few minutes they all waited in silence, Harry trying to understand exactly what they were looking for. He didn't remember anything like this happening in the past.

'Here.' Mark bent forward, prodding a finger towards a percentage at the base of the page, 'We're at eighty-percent. It's going to-!'

'Shush!' Yana snapped. The Half-Czech rubbed at her eyes before clicking a few more buttons. A new read-out revealed itself. This time, it was something Harry recognised. Mostly because he'd helped code the exact same program over twenty years ago. It was a ridiculously complex algorithm with which to re-combine neural brain scans to create digital replicas of human brain function. The program had birthed Baba, resurrected James Lovell, and now…

'That's it.' Yana confirmation made Harry jump, 'He's up.'

Eva traced her eyes across the motley bunch, expecting some form of celebration. It never came. They were foremost scientists. Jean leant forwards to scrutinise the confirmation screen. It was Mark that vocalised the remaining doubt.

'We sure he's taken? I mean, we had this four times with James before it worked…'

'I've got...Uh, I'm running the diagnostics now.' Yana replied in a small voice. Normally, such tasks would have been assigned to Baba. The AI would have predicted the need for such checks and have them ready before the eccentric programmer even needed to ask. Yana typed in the inquiries manually, Harry watching her navigate through menu screens he'd designed what felt like a lifetime ago. He doubted he still had the knowledge or commitment to even shadow such skills now.

Amidst the growing tension regarding the procedure, it was Eva who had the initiative to pull out her softscreen. Loading an old messaging app, she dropped a short sentence in James's inbox.

"Richard should be in. Maybe check the PC?"

"Checking now" The reply was instantaneous. Eva grinned, wondering just how much control the uploader now had over the simulated digitised world. Though the young Scott had rather negative expectations of Harry (partly due to the court appeal unearthing some of businessman's less-desirable traits). It was begrudgingly that she respected how the man had set-up the next era of HORIZON. Sure, no AI's were allowed to run GOKIA systems...but there was nothing against legally-identified uploaded humans?

James's terms of acceptance regarding his new role were remarkably slim. In fact, there had only been one condition.

"Ok. Definitely looking good." James messaged back thirty seconds later. Eva wondered if the uploader was checking a simulated softscreen in much the same way she was. A shiver ran up the young woman's spine. This time, it wasn't from the cold air temperature in the office.

Mark was still pitched forward, squinting at the computer monitor. However, it was Harry who spoke,

'So...has it worked?'

'James says-' Eva spoke up, checking another message on her personal softscreen. 'Yeah. He's got Rich in the PC. Wanna-?'

'Getting it.' Yana splurged the words out, thinking faster than she could talk. Within a few seconds a new tab was open on the shared screen with a video feed trying to connect. Nobody commented on how it took a few seconds longer than normal without Baba to organise the stream. They waited patiently for the call to register inside of HORIZON.

James grumbled at his ringtone, glancing around the near-empty Pokecentre lobby before tugging his softscreen out of his pocket. He denied the video request, silencing the device before dropping it back into his jeans. Now wasn't the time for Yana's pestering.

The uploader wrung his hands, returning his attention to the PC screen on the desk before him. A buffering circle spun on a black screen before suddenly, a classic white and red Pokeball rolled out the desktop computer like a slot machine. A loud ping announced that the retrieval was complete. James's hands practically shook as he picked up the ball.

'Come on bro…' He muttered under his voice, turning the Pokeball in his hands. He couldn't bear to wait any longer, pushing the release button. There was a loud click followed by a flash of blinding red light. The uploader glanced away, too anxious to look back unless he found all his potential worries might have come true. The uploading process might have failed, or simply not preserved important aspects of his brother's personality. Richard might have been brainwashed or even driven crazy by the process. Given that James had helped adjust the software from inside of HORIZON, he felt personally responsible if the slight adjustments turned out to be a disaster.

"Lie...Liepard?" A small, questioning mew broke the young man from his hesitation. James turned slowly to see the purple feline sitting on the floor before him. The Liepard blinked, staring around the Pokecentre lobby in apparent confusion. Sleek purple and yellow fur shone as the Pokemon twitched his muscles. At last, the Liepard's eyes settled on the trainer stood before him.

'Richard?' James tried, bending down to kneel in front of the Pokemon, 'You in there bro?'

The Pokemon shook, a jitter that ran down his spine to the tip of his purple tail. He rolled his shoulders before blinking again. The Leopard's pupils dilated and then narrowed to adjust to the man's face before his own. There was a second of absolute silence, James silently pleading for the recognition to materialise. Frowning, Richard wiggled his jaw as if uncertain of his own ability to speak.

'Jaaames?' He tried, tongue getting lodged between his sharp teeth. 'Wow...Uh…'

'Rich!'

James lunged forward to pull the yellow-spotted leopard Pokemon into a tight hug. In part, it was to stop the still delirious feline from toppling over. Richard froze within James's grasp, tensing his shoulders at the sudden contact. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened. The last thing Richard could remember was napping and having a completely random dream about strange cat-robots and...and being back in Jersey? Wait. Wasn't he still living in Jersey?

'You know who I am?' James asked, muffling his voice as he pressed his face into the shoulder of the feline. Richard could feel the moisture of tears on his fur. Wait...tears? Had the new Booples upgrades become good enough to simulate even moisture against his skin? Richard couldn't remember even getting inside his haptic feedback gear.

'Yooou're my, my brother. Of cooourse…'

Richard trailed off, finding vowels difficult using his muzzle. He nudged James, trying to push the man off with his short muzzle. Twitching his whiskers and he blinked a few more times, not sure why his vision was so unusual. Everything seemed to be in shades of blues and greens. That didn't stop him from seeing the tears that James was openly weeping. His brother was crying? But there was a smile on his face…?

'Uh, Jaaames? This is getting weird…' The Liepard tried to shuffle back but the young man's hug was like a vice grip. 'Wait. Since when could you understand me? Since...uh...you're not supposed to know that, that…it's me?'

James sighed, releasing the Pokemon before cheekily ruffling the fur on the Liepard's head.

'Well. There's a lot of explaining to do.'

'Liiiie…?' Richard murmured, intending to prompt his brother to continue speaking but finding his muzzle naturally garble the thought into the throaty chirp of his Pokemon species.

'Well. You're the third ever uploader.'

END

And thus marks the final chapter of Error! This turned out to be a longer chapter than I was expecting, but it wouldn't have made sense to break it into two. There's no real jargon to explain given this should wrap-up everything that's come previously! I've saved all my thank-you drabble for the epilogue. I rushed the editing somewhat, so apologies for any very obvious typos! Enjoy!