Chapter 7

I won't bore you with details, Mercury. It's enough to say that the announcement was enough to cause dissension and panic in the ranks of Four's army. Obifune was able to command the Blues through my communication systems, and there was enough pushback among the population to thwart the coup attempt. Oh, and Mercury Four was flagged as malware. I told you Alan was working at the terminal. He destroyed her with a few keystrokes from afar, as well as running a few more tasks on the system to calm things down.

But that left its own problem.

It would have been easier if I deleted all traces of myself within the system, made it look like all "Lora" data was not recoverable.

My resolve crumbled watching the monitor. Alan is not a man who gives up. The more hopeless it seems, the harder he will fight. I watched him struggle, curse, run one routine, then another.

"But you cannot go back," Obifune said. "You will die."

"I know."

I had been uploaded into my body. I still had my two-part disc. Left behind was the reconfigured Program that Math Assistant Two had given my face.

I split my disc. I made sure all the neural patterns would be intact and the memories were copied, but blocked memories of this place. I also made sure that, once the upload was complete, the same memories would be blocked from my own. Remembering being human was going to be too painful, especially since I had to stay here.

It was a small cost, but significant.

"A massive infusion of energy should be enough once I upload the disc. It will get her out."

Was this a deception? Maybe. I was still going back…well, part of me was.

"It will do nothing for the cascade failure."

"Yes, once the energy burns out," I said. "And for your next question, it will kill us both."

"Why?"

I nodded to the screen. "He...Alan needs a chance to say goodbye."

"And you?"

I stepped back and prepared the transfer. It should have been surreal or disturbing, but I was too busy thinking about the process.

"Blind worship of Users puts this world in danger. Even if your plan to..." Was it really right to say "kill me?" Because, in a way, the plan to do that worked. "Even if you succeeded, it just would be a setback. Someone else would try. Someone else would get in and maybe that someone would do what you dreaded."

"What are your plans for us?"

"My world isn't ready for yours. Your world isn't ready for mine. But...I think we have a chance of making it ready."

He cocked his head the way Michael did when he didn't quite understand one of my tangents. Charming, really.

"As Ma3a, I can't leave my Citadel, not without decaying even faster. And I'd be only a little more powerful than a regular Program if I did. So, I will need eyes, hands. I'll also need those eyes and hands to act as a check on me."

"Agents to act on your behalf."

"Yes, Agents. People who can keep an eye on the System Guard, on the civilian scripts, on the system's processes. And, if necessary, remove me from power. But your real directive would be to prepare for a User invasion. It's fine for the Programs to serve, but they also need to be taught to question, to recognize illegal orders. Not our weapons, not our slaves – but our partners, our companions."

"The Guardians will be less than happy," Obifune said wryly. "Let them be. I am still a Program. I still need a User to give me commands, but I will not mind if it is you giving those commands. You are only half-User anyway."

And that was the beginning of my network of Agents. Most of the Blues jumped at the idea of working quietly, from the inside, for the peace and good of their fellow Programs while spreading their message.

I pulled the lever and sealed the area around my double. The inside lit up in bright yellow, almost blinding. Inside the chamber, I saw the duplicate take a deep breath and start to sit up before the laser sequence activated, and she was dismantled bit by bit in the upload.

On the monitor, I saw Lora...Lora-Alpha, for lack of a better term, materialize on the floor. She was unconscious, but breathing and intact. Alan rushed over to her, took her in his arms and shouted for assistance.

It was done.

The memories already fading, I trudged back to my dock, feeling the tendrils of power close around me.

She and I have lived far longer than expected, given all the damage already done and the imperfect correction algorithms, but any time at all was better than none. I would be here to try and protect this world from the threat my creation unleashed on it.

Mercury sits through the whole story, asking questions with a refreshing lack of reverence.

"Just one more question, Ma3a. When you needed to get a User to fight a User, why were you so sure about him?"

I can't help a little smile. Mercury isn't likely to understand the full connotations. Still, Mercury Six is not her predecessor. She's earned the right to know.

I pull off the mask. It's easy to forget its weight. Mercury steps back, studying my face. After almost a full second, she nods, understanding.

"You're his creator."

I can't give any answer but a nod.

"The male render obscures it somewhat, but he honors your face – especially the eyes," she explained. "And the spark. He would give up anything for this world – just like you did. Does he know?"

I shake my head. "You aren't going to be the one to tell him, Mercury."

Despite her independence and lack of religious devotion, Mercury is still a Program and still under directive to obey. "Understood."

As much as I would like to delay this, I still have my duty and Mercury has hers. She escorts me to my dock, gently holding my arm as she guides me to the dais. The cylinder closes and the shackles of light wrap around me. I'm Schrodinger's Cat – neither dead nor alive. I'm linked to my double in Washington DC, sharing her mind. It's not entirely a deception, but it is…

Seeing Alan and Jet again makes me wonder if the price was too high. There still could be more costs to come. The threat isn't over. There were people behind F-Con. There are secrets we still haven't un-buried. I know Jet hasn't put the pieces together, but Alan...he knows enough.

I allowed myself the regret. I'm sorry, Alan. You aren't the only one trying to run a dozen plans in secret, trying to protect what you love.

My work is what put this world in danger. It's my responsibility to hold back the threat I brought here, and I have to keep fighting on this front, so he and others can fight on the rest. My time is limited. It will stretch longer here. Maybe it will be enough time to come up with a way to stop the danger entirely.

When the war is over, we can rest. But not until then.