Chapter 5

I was left alone in my quarters – scratch that. I was left alone in my luxurious cage. Sitting around wasn't going to give me answers and it wasn't going to get me any closer to back home.

I opened my hand. I know it now as a data file – an octahedron crystal of dark sapphire blue. Not sure how I knew to do this, I clamped my hand around it and willed it to open.

Doctor Bradley,

Ma2a has her reasons for saving you and they are not what they seem. We are willing to talk if you are willing to hear us.

Attached were coordinates, a map of the citadel complex. One of the buildings on the far end was marked. It was clearly an invitation to meet. I could turn this over to the guards. After all, it was just as likely to be a trap, and there was still no evidence that the Blues weren't trying to have me killed.

But without seeking, without risk, there is no discovery, there is no knowledge. I gave up everything else in pursuit of knowledge. There wasn't a point in stopping now. If it was a trap, so be it.

I couldn't use the door- there were two guards outside. Maybe there were some cameras on me, but I couldn't sense anything. Scowling, I looked for other options. There was a large window on the other side. The architecture of the walls did provide some hand and foot holds for a risky, but do-able, climb down.

You're right, Mercury. It does sound like something Jet would do. There's...probably a good reason for that.

I put my hand on the force-field of the window, feeling the energy crackle between my fingers. I thought about pushing the energy outward and back into it. The window sputtered and snapped off with a hiss and smell of ozone.

The climb down was easier then it looked. Avoiding windows was the hardest part. Once on the ground, I used the map I had downloaded to try and get to the coordinates specified.

It was a building – abandoned due to damage. It looked like the aftermath of a demolition site, half of it caved in and the other half standing by some principles of physics that wouldn't work in the human world at all.

As I entered the building, I saw a flash of blue—a moving person, it had to be. I tried to chase them down. The halls were dark and twisted, debris and pixel-stone fallen in piles, sparking wires hanging down into the corridor and what seemed to be metal sticking up. The only reliable light was from our circuits. The Blue knew they were being chased but reached the edge of a corridor and threw a large-hand-sized sphere at the wall like the one in my vision. It stuck and flattened out, generating a ring around a flashing hemisphere. I may not have been familiar with this world and how it operated, but my gut said "bomb," and I wasn't taking chances. I turned on my heel and started running away as fast as I could.

There was a high-pitched whine and a sharp beep. I wasn't far enough. In my panic, I stumbled over a hunk of pixel stone and a sharp pain jolted up my leg.

The bomb went off.

I had expected an explosion – falling chunks of pixel-stone, plasma fire. I had not expected what the object did. I saw something like growing vines spread out from the center of the object, creating patterns and then words. Here, it is called "free code." Humans would call it "spray paint" or "graffiti." It's usually used to spread subversive messages there, too.

"WE ARE NOT WEAPONS. WE ARE NOT SLAVES."

I touched the wall, trying to induce a vision.

Nothing.

"We are not weapons. We are not slaves." I read that out loud and shuddered, trying to get to my feet. Something was very wrong – why couldn't I feel my leg?

And that's when hands reached out, one over my mouth and the other across my chest, dragging me into the shadows.

My memory of what happened next is still garbled. Someone threw a bag over my head, and lifted me off the ground, carrying me a short distance and throwing me into a vehicle. Knowing I was in enough trouble, I kept silent and hoped my kidnappers would do the talking. Unfortunately, they said nothing. I could feel the vehicle twist and turn, as if trying not to be seen or followed. It was like something from a bad spy film. The door opened again, another round of being thrown over someone shoulder, and carried through some halls and down a flight of stairs before being half thrown onto a cot.

My hands were bound and I still couldn't feel my right leg. I felt a hand reach down and yank off the bag.

The blue-black circuits were expected, but not the face. "Michael?" He was apparently their leader. Okay, so I was going to have to have a very long talk with my intern once – or if – I got back.

"Michael is not my designation."

I scowled. Okay, as if this couldn't get weirder. I could swear it was him; the shrug of the shoulders, the accent, even the size of his feet. "What do you mean? Aren't you Michael Daturo? Master's in physics from University of Massachusetts? Born in Benin City? Working on his doctorate in the lab with me?"

He straightened. "I honor the face of my User, as many of us do. Fewer of us than in the ancient times, but enough. I am Obifune."

"Obifune." I was racking my brain. That's right. Obifune, or "Obi" was the name of a program Michael wrote to keep track of the multiple variables we had to test with the laser and chart the next one to try and test. "You're Michael's Program."

"And you are a threat."

"If you wanted me dead, you could have just finished me off back there. According to Math Assistant Two, the Blues have been sabotaging the laser project and tried to kill me by uploading me here."

"Then, why would we risk capturing you? Why would I take great risk and bribe a guard to give you that message? For that matter, why would you be curious enough to follow its instructions if you trusted Ma2a?"

He had me there. "Okay, then. What do you want?"

"The laser project must be stopped. We have seen enough of your world, your thoughts, and your history through the Internet. We know that if humans gain access to this world, they will destroy us. We must protect ourselves, and if that means revolt against Ma2a's blind obedience…"

"You don't know that." Despite where I was working, and the cynical part of me that wanted to remark that he had a point, the memories of Master Control's attempt to start nuclear war "for your own good" were still too sharp. "And tell that to the people killed in your attacks."

Obifune shook his head. "It has to be the Math Assistant running what your archives call a 'false flag.' We have been falsely accused. We spread our message by free code. At most, we have been sabotaging the laser's power systems, the building's electricity monitors. There is no reason why we would hurt civilian scripts; they are the ones who need to hear our message the most."

Math Assistant Two was telling me one thing, and Obifune was telling me a different story. I was about to argue when I realized I had no evidence either way. "You're telling me your movement is peaceful."

"Look around you. Look at this server, the tasks we are being asked to carry out. We discovered your kind coded us as weapons, as a way for Users to kill and destroy other Users. We are faced with an impossible dilemma. You call the Users of Users 'Gods.' If one God commanded you to be a weapon against another of his equals, a God who had done no harm to you personally, could you carry out such a command without question? Moreover, does a God have the right to demand such a thing? And if they do, are they worth obeying?"

Religion wasn't a topic I gave a lot of thought about. I wasn't an atheist; there probably was some intelligence higher than humans out there. I also concluded that said intelligence had better things to do than watch us and was indifferent to our prayers and suffering. Whatever made the universe probably just set it all up, let it run, and walked away to let us all figure it out on our own. Their logic, however, added to the case that they might be telling the truth about not spreading a reign of terror.

"Obifune...I'm sorry. I had no idea. We have no idea."

He held up a hand. "We realized that. And it must stay that way. We cannot live without our Users. We tolerate your ignorance and cruelty from afar. It is our...fate. But we are not weapons. And we are not slaves. When the Users invade, they will not destroy us without a challenge."

"Which is why I had to die." I was putting it together. "Kill me, and the laser project would suffer a big enough setback to hopefully be shelved."

"With each passing micro-cycle, the laser comes closer to opening a gate between our worlds that no one can close. Doctor Bradley had to be killed, yes. It...it was a difficult decision to make. I am also sorry. I did not want anyone to have to die, but we feared we had no choice."

The way he said it should have set off more alarm bells, but I didn't want to process that. I wasn't one for big speeches, and my own faith in humanity wasn't stellar. Obifune had some very good points. I tried to think of a good argument for them not to kill me, and was coming up with more reasons in favor than against.

And just when I was about to tell him and his Blues "All right, make it quick," I thought about the people I loved on the other side. Alan, Roy, Gibbs, Flynn…Flynn was always stupidly optimistic about technology, the potential to better humanity through our creations. What would he say to them?

And then, I thought of my son. If I agreed with their bleak outlook, then what was I telling him?

I couldn't stand, but I could make myself sit up as straight as I could. "You have a point. We're...hateful, short-sighted, greedy, illogical. And this server probably gives you a great look at just how horrible we are to one another and how casual we can be about it. Yes, it's likely that there are maniacs who will burn this world for power. But you take three hops down the network or a half mile down the road, and there are just as many who are pushing back as hard as they can. Let me push back. Give me a chance to."

Obifune folded his arms, skeptical. "And why should I trust in you?"

"You haven't killed me. You have every reason to, and you haven't. You don't want to kill me. You want my help. Math Assistant Two isn't going to listen to you, but she might listen to me."

"Ma2a needs you more than you understand now," he said, pulling off the blanket covering my legs. "Look down. There is more truth there than in anything Ma2a can tell you."

I looked at my leg. It wasn't there. Not broken, just...gone. I gasped. The edges looked jagged and pixelated, like an image that failed to render.