Chapter 7: Solidarity
Chapter 7: Solidarity
Part 1: My Sister?
Written in the evening following my transfer to the Hotel Apollo
The rain was heavier than usual, and in my haste to get into the air taxi, and deal with Mr. Moseby, I hardly processed that I was getting wet at all. But that’s okay. I didn’t give a fuck, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter one bit. The only thing that mattered was that I was on my way to go and talk to Amanda, and hopefully check her out of the Barnaby Beaumont residence, until the end of the day. At the end of the day she’d have to check back in to the residence where she was looked after by various people and robotic staff - kept safe, if not from bullying by fellow children. I reviewed her case in further detail as me and the two escort bots drove over to the building.
Amanda was born in a nurture center, and lived in Barnaby Beaumont, until she was eight. At eight she escaped the residence, alongside eight other children, but they were never found, until three were picked up the other day alongside Amanda. Someone had deleted most of the information in Amanda’s case from the child management system, which is extremely illegal and suspicious, and the original was only recovered through a back-up which was accessed via a DNA sample (her hair).
I don’t care if I die, I don’t know what conspiracy is going on, but I’m going to help get to the bottom of this investigation and keep Amanda safe.
Part 2: Getting Amanda
Written in the evening following my transfer to the Hotel Apollo
The air taxi driver and I arrived at the Barnaby Beaumont, a government boarding school for children born of embryonic reattachment. In particular it happened to be a facility where children with birth deformities had access to additional, advanced technological resources. Beaumont was paired with a biosynthetic development hospital, located across the street. Some kids needed new lungs, hearts, other organs, brain surgery, eyes. Birth deformities were rare, but they happened, even these days, not to speak of the Horrific Eleven, the first eleven years after The Great A Compromise of 2068 was signed into law. I’d actually worked with children from this facility on several occasions, some of the sweetest, most sensitive children I’ve ever met. In a lot of ways, actually, it was kind of a nice place - it almost reminded me of the Hotel Apollo on the inside. The robot escorts walked with me into the building, and I asked them to stay near the door, near the two police officers.
I spoke to the charming Denkeeper robot, Mr. Townsworth, his body was made of well-polished brass, he was an advanced AI who took care of the children at the boarding school working alongside other robots and humans.
“Hello Mr. Townsworth. I am here representing the interests of a girl named Amanda, who has joined this residence in the last two weeks. Due to an ongoing investigation I cannot disclose her last name. I understand that the FBI have spoken with her, and similarly she is within my jurisdiction as a social worker with executive caretaker status. I need to speak with her immediately.”
“Miss Alianii,” said Mr. Townsworth, “I was told to expect you, Marabelle called four days ago and informed me, “She said you might come in a little impassioned when you read more about Amanda’s case. As you know, we cannot discuss her last name at this time, but yes, Amanda is here, and I believe she will speak with you.”
“Please escort me to her room, I would like for the security guards to remain at the door, thank you. I do not know to what degree their presence may make her uncomfortable.”
“Understood Miss Alianii, you are her social worker. We trust your judgment.”
We arrived at Amanda’s door, and I knocked, “Amanda, it is Alianii, I am back from the hospital and I am hear to speak with you in private. Are you willing to speak with me?”
“…you came for me?”
“Of course I did, Amanda, I’m your teacher and your social worker. Can I come in?”
Amanda opened the door, her eyes were a piercing jade green, and she was crying profusely. Her hair was long, black, and disheveled. She was wearing the clothing I’d bought for her before I entered the hospital. I walked into the door and asked her to sit beside me on the bed.
“Are you okay?”
Amanda shook her head, she was sobbing, and I invited her in for a hug and held her for a few minutes while she cried.
“They took Joey, Zygon and Bluejay. Please help Alianii. They took them. They’re going to hurt them, please help.”
“Who is going to hurt them sweetie? I need you to tell me who the bad guys are so we can help your friends.”
In between muffled, crying words she told me that she didn’t know.
“How do you know they’re in danger Amanda? Please talk to me.”
Amanda shook her head, “Joey said the police might hurt them and to get help. He told me not to say anything, and he made me promise.”
“Amanda, why do you think the police want to hurt Joey? I need you to be open with me and trust me. If there is anyone in this world you can trust, I hope you know its me.”
Amanda looked away from me, all of her words came between heavy sobbing, “I can’t tell you. I promised not to talk about it.”
“Do you feel unsafe here, in this building? Why did you run away from here as a child?”
Amanda looked away and whispered “yes”, her voice terrified, “Can we go please? It’s not safe here. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
I nodded, and took her hand, and we walked out of the building, followed by the escort bots who walked with us to our air taxi. It was a brief message from Mr. Moseby that informed me that we needed to have an emergency meeting. The involved parties would be at the Apollo later in just a few hours.
Part 3: The Great Dream
The meeting occurred in the executive lobby in Apollo, an older woman named Rose welcomed me in and offered me tea. I was the last one to be called into the meeting, and saw a mixed party sitting spread out throughout the table. The table was long, oval and made of a rich reddish-brown mahogany, the chairs were black faux leather.
“Welcome Alianii,” said Mr. Moseby, “Thank you for joining us. We have been discussing a variety of concerns in advance of you coming into the room. Things are quite serious. I’m going to start off by having everyone introduce themselves to you.”
An African-American woman, perhaps in her thirties, stood up and spoke first, “Hi Alianii, my name is Clair. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you. It was very brave how you rescued Amanda. I am the Director of Strategy for the Strategy Division of the Doge Guild.”
A Roomba, the size of a large stack of five or so thick pancakes, who was “sitting” on the table, spoke through a speaker, “I come before you today in accordance with the desires of the leadership of the Alliance of the Internet of Things. I am Roomba.”
Mr. Moseby began to speak again, “You know me, Alianii, but I am also representing the broader Metal Alliance who are communicating through me. Alianii, is there anything you’d like to say before we begin our discussion?”
“Okay,” I said, “My name is Alianii U843 and I am a special education teacher and social worker and I currently have emergency caretaker status over Amanda. I’m here to protect Amanda, she is currently my primary priority, though the protection of other at-risk children is also a paramount concern of mine.”
“Thank you Alianii,” said Mr. Moseby, “Now for the matter at hand.”
Mr. Moseby turned on a hologram television and showed me a video clip which featured an air taxi collision, a dramatic explosion, and the pictures of Amanda and myself alongside the words “deceased”.
Clair spoke, “You and Amanda are in profound danger. This video is about to be released to the media. Notice that it says “FBI confirmed” indicating that the material is real footage. As it stands, you cannot leave witness protection as provided by the Metal Alliance and funded by the Guild. There is a standing order for your death, and Amanda’s, and the world will very shortly think you’re already dead. If you are seen in public, you will be assassinated via a drone swarm within twenty minutes, possibly less.”
“…I always wanted to be popular. I don’t care. I had to rescue her. Why is Amanda in danger, how and why is the FBI involved in this and why did they confirm fake footage? They’re supposed to protect US citizens.”
Clair responded, “For security reasons, we cannot disclose more information than is necessary regarding the FBI’s involvement. What I can disclose, out of pragmatic necessity, is that a faction, named Diotrem, has influence within the government and has exploited its power. Amanda, unfortunately, is one of their many victims. The young men she was around at the time of the police picking her up appear to be the primary targets, though the police got to them before Diotrem.”
Mr. Moseby started crying, as a mechadwarf designed as an entertainment wizard, he was able to shed real tears, “You rescued her from being abducted into FBI custody, where she would have been subjected to the ruthlessness of Diotrem. Now that we have her, we can confirm that her kill switch was activated several days ago. Diotrem has opted to murder her.”
I was in disbelief, “What? Kill switch? What do you mean murder her?”
Clair spoke, “I’m so sorry Alianii. Amanda’s synthetic eyes have a specific wiring to her brain chip, effectively a trigger delay kill switch. We cannot reverse the activation.”
I was still rationalizing, “I’m not going to let her die. What can we do? There has to be something. What about the young men? Joey?”
Clair responded, “Joey and the young men - our allies and members of the Guild - that’s another story, and we cannot disclose our current plan to you. As for Amanda, her only option is surgery, to attempt to remove her chip with the embedded kill switch. However, this will most likely activate it and thus immediately terminate her life or cause severe brain damage.”
“….She’s ten,” I said quietly, my rationalizing turned to tears, but I was trying to hold it together. If only out of hope for her.
The directory of strategy continued, trying to speak delicately, “She is ten…yes she is. Our primary option for life extension is to put her in a cryogenic chamber to slow down the clock on her brain chip, to give her a little more time. This opens up the possibility of, well, a slumbering heaven, so to speak. We will attempt the surgery, but it will almost certainly result in the end of Amanda’s life. As her social worker, we needed to discuss this with you. You have her medical power of attorney. She has no parents for us to talk to. It’s you, and only you. Now, if we are to put her into a cryogenic state, we would need your authorization.”
The Roomba followed, “Note that if we process Amanda into a cryogenic state, she would still have some cognitive function, and we could interact with her via a connection to a modified, private Everse network. If you were willing, you could spend time with her. If we put her into cryogenics, she may have a physical week or two, instead of three to five or so days. We would, naturally, generate experiences crafted just for her, for her joy and prosperity.”
“I want to be with her. I will be with her in every moment, and I will hold her hand, and I will be there for her surgery.”
Roomba continued, “We knew you would want to spend time with her. There is a complication, though, and that is that in order for a conscious person to interact with Amanda, digitally, the brain chip internal clock between Amanda and that individual would need to be synchronized. We would need to put you into a cryogenic state, and this naturally has severe but rare risks. This is compounded further by edge cases, for example, if something were to happen to you and Amanda were to survive. You are currently her caretaker. To whom would we bestow care of Amanda were you to die, or develop cognitive impairment?”
I responded, still holding it together, my cheeks wet, “I don’t know. I don’t have an immediate answer for that. My first instinct would be to have the Metal Alliance talk to Marabelle, my teaching partner.”
Mr. Moseby spoke, “If it comes down to it, the Metal Alliance will provide her shelter indefinitely, and we will work with Marabelle too. If we were to raise Amanda, which would be necessary if Diotrem forces were still an active threat, we would raise her with love. She would know every kindness, luxury and hospitality. She would be the princess of our domain.”
I breathed in and out, I was trying to maintain my composure, “So we have no choice but to do the surgery. The question you are really posing is if I am willing to enter the dream state with her.”
Roomba spoke, “Precisely. We can generate experiences for her and you so that her time, your time together, is blissful. Metalheads such as myself can easily allocate and section off portions of our processing power to be involved with her. In knowing you and in reviewing your adventure guide profile and your relationship with Amanda…we considered it likely you would take a more humanistic approach, and join her.”
I don’t know what it was, but I started sobbing when Roomba said the word humanistic, “Obviously I’m going to take the “humanistic” approach. She’s a little girl. Of course I’m going to go down with her.”
“How long does she have? How much time dilation can we do?” I managed to ask, pulling it back in to get the concrete details.
Clair replied, “It’s hard to say what would be safe. We don’t usually use active brain chips at that temperature, with that specific combination of neurochemistry and brain activity. Really it comes down to how long we think we have before her trigger delay detonates. We believe we have five days, though we aren’t sure. This could be expanded to perhaps two weeks once frozen. We would ideally start the surgery tonight, but considering its danger, there is a calculus to deciding how much joy to provide her before any further time spent is too risky. A time dilation factor of twenty would mean that two weeks could be two hundred and eighty days. This would be the upper limit of safety. Much beyond that would be medical negligence.”
Roomba spoke, “All of this is assuming we get her into a cryogenic state tonight, after you, perhaps, choose to spend some time with her in person. We could put her under cryogenics immediately. Ultimately, you are her caretaker, and the choice and path forward is yours.”
“Amanda deserves a day around people who love her and care about her before we put her into a coma. I will spend this day with her, and when it is time, tonight, I will be frozen with her and have our Everse and chips synchronized.”
“Are you sure, Alianii? This is a big decision, and although you are her caretaker, this is not a burden that is fair to expect from anyone. She is not your daughter.” asked Clair.
“How dare you. Just because you’ve read my profile, and know my career, that doesn’t mean you know me. I am not a paragraph description. I don’t think you’re an egg, or else you would understand. We have no parents, we have only each other, and for every awakened egg, Amanda is, in fact, a by-blood sister. I will not leave a ten year girl alone in a computer oblivion, to die in the matrix. I will be with her for every moment until such time that she is saved, or my life or my brain function, is lost.”
“I am sorry for offending you. I wish only to be pragmatic and for you to consider all aspects of this problem. You are also of service to other students, for example. In any case, regarding Amanda’s specific case…if she is unable to survive off of life-support, and we are unable to resuscitate you to confirm your decision, what would you wish for us to do?”
“If she has no cognitive activity, as her medical power of attorney, knowing she has no parents, I would make the decision to take her off life support and end her suffering. I would ask for you to do this to me as well. I have nothing to go off for a decision like this except logic and my personal morality and spirituality, and as a Hindu, I have faith that her heaven, her real heaven, will be joyous.”
Mr. Moseby replied, “You two, in your shared dream, will know only the most profound serendipity and joy. Our Everse designers are crafting quests and adventures for you two to enjoy in your Great Dream. We are downloading copies of the general places you two would likely visit. Should you try to visit a pocket of the Everse we don’t have a copy of, we can quickly make a copy and set up an instance. There is one last question, though.”
“What would that be?” I asked.
The Roomba replied, “Whether or not you wish for us to alter your memory regarding your and Amanda’s realities. You being aware of your dream state would be more emotionally challenging, and less likely to maintain a blissful experience, than ignorance by design. We would have you record videos to yourself, to inform yourself when you awake of what has occurred. Obviously all footage can be generated, so your recording would be using a message with a code you would be convinced by.”
“Do it. I want it to be her heaven, and if I know what’s happening, I would always be crying, like an idiot. If I kept on an emotion mask, I would be lying to her the entire time. That’s not what I want for her soul. I will share her dreams, and I will be there if she lives, or if we die.”
Clair nodded, “We will need you to sign some paperwork, and consent via a video message. We also need you to take some time and assemble your personal message to yourself and record it. We want to get you back to Amanda as soon as possible. You two can spend this day together, and then tonight we will put you into cryogenics.”
I nodded, and shortly thereafter recorded a video message for that unlucky bitch, future Alianii.
Part 4: Slumber Party
I left the meeting room and found Amanda in the hotel lobby, being entertained by Saraswati. I could hear her veena’s sound transmitted from Saraswati to Moseby to me. The lullaby of the bright veena was as natural, through contrast, a fit for the situation as my despondency. And yet I had to put on a braver face than I felt. Amanda ran over to me.
“Alianii! Alianii! Is everything going to be okay? Are you going to get Joey and Bluejay and Zygon?”
She wrapped her arms around me, her head nuzzled into me. I put my arms around her and held her close and cupped her head, before I pulled back and stroked her hair affectionately. She was wearing different clothes, she was dressed like Saraswati in pink and orange neo-Hindu, I figured Sara had used the hotel’s 3D carbonic printer and helped her wear something colorful and lively.
“I am sweetie, everything is fine, what did Sara get you into, you look so pretty! I’m going to get them tomorrow first thing in the morning. They’re completely safe and everything is better than we hoped! It was all a mistake. The police thought Joey was part of a violent gang but the Guild didn’t do anything, you guys are just a club! I learned about what you guys do today.”
“Joey stops bullies on the Everse, he showed me how he scares them, the Guild sends him people to follow and spook.”
“Yep! Hardly violent or criminal, which is why I think today we need to relax, and spend time together, and have as good a day as possible. What do you think? I was thinking me and you and Saraswati could have a pajama party?”
The ironic thing about pajama parties, to eggs, is that we had them all the time, and yet we never felt we’d had a single one. To be an egg, around dozens or hundreds of other eggs, in a building built to contain you - wearing pajamas at night isn’t a party, it is a reminder of your bastardized existence. At least this is the case once you’re fifteen, sixteen, a little older, more aware of reality, more jaded, a little closer to reaching the age at which the thirty-five percent suicide rate becomes apparent.
“Saraswati, would you like to join us tonight? ” I asked, “We need at least three girls for it to be a party.”
We couldn’t fully meet each other’s gaze. Mr. Moseby had told me in the car that he had informed her regarding the necessities of the situation.
Saraswati was my warmth and more, sans medication, I wondered if her acting made her more of a sociopath than myself, or just a more loving mother, what does the perfect mom say to a child dying of cancer, or something else?
“A slumber party! I haven’t had one of those in like eight or nine years, that would be wonderful!” said Saraswati, “Can I bring my veena? I want to play for you two before we go to bed.”
“Please Alianii please? Have you heard her play it? She’s so amazing, it’s so relaxing.”
“Oh, what the heck, go ahead Saraswati. She can play for us as much as she wants, at least until we watch a movie, okay? And we’ll order delicious food as room service, and the most important thing of all, desert! I’m already really hungry though so you’re going to have to get your own desert, okay? No sharing.”
“Okay,” said Amanda, nodding, smiling, beaming beautifully like the sun so rarely did in Light’s Hope, “I’m so happy. Thanks for going to get Joey tomorrow, I miss him so much.”
“He misses you too Amanda, you’ll be seeing him before you know it. But tonight’s going to be a girl’s night, okay!”
Saraswati spoke next, “I’m going to go print us some animal pajamas. What do you think, Amanda? Bunny? Penguin? Lion? Any animal you want.”
Amanda thought about this, for a quick moment, “Animal pajamas are for little kids. I’m ten.”
“I don’t think so,” said Saraswati, “It’s cute and fun! Come on, just for us, this once? Pick an animal, anything.”
“Mmm. What are you and Alianii going to pick?”
Saraswati raised her eyebrows to me, I spoke first, “I’ll be a kangaroo.”
Amanda smiled, “Okay I’ll be a baby kangaroo.”
I started tearing up immediately, and Amanda hugged me and asked me what was wrong.
“Oh nothing I just remembered a sad video I saw about kangaroos. It’s nothing.”
The veena player teared up a little bit herself, but quickly wiped the corner of her eyes, and informed us she would be a koala and that she was going to go print the pajamas.
Saraswati walked over to Mr. Moseby, who was now at his desk, and spoke with him in hushed words for a minute while I was thinking about what to do next. I saw her finish speaking to him while Amanda tugged at my hand insistently, she was ready to play.
Mr. Moseby approached us, “Ah! A slumber party, ladies! What a magnificent notion, what a stupendous occurrence, I dare say the Hotel Apollo needs more of these. Indeed, what sort of atmosphere were you anticipating? We have rooms with one large bed, two beds, or perhaps you would use the Geolounge. The sofa couch extends to a bed, more then plenty for three, though Saraswati could always use the other couch. What do you think Amanda?”
“That sounds good, Sara can sleep with us its okay. She told me shes an egg, shes my sister just like Alianii.”
“Of course, of course, dear. Quite logical, quite, I do think the three of you will have the most lovely of evenings and the most peaceful of slumbers. I’ll make some arrangements, make sure the room has the sort of royal decorations such an occasion deserves. What shall you two do, perhaps spend the day fighting dragons and what not? There are some network issues with the broader Everse but alas the hotel is blessed to have our own private system!”
“What do you say, Amanda? What are you in the mood for?”
“I want you to make us a story, you’re the best at it. Can Sara come too?”
Mr. Moseby spoke for her, “She’ll join you shortly perhaps? Anyways, off you go ladies, I really shall be quite preoccupied in setting up this most fabulous of celebrations for you three, tottle along now. Amanda has her own room, would you like to show Alianii?”
Amanda nodded eagerly and tugged at my hand and pulled me to the elevator. She pressed the button, and hopped in, and we stopped at the third floor. Her room was next to mine. I pointed out that the room next door was mine, and if she wanted we could go to bed in separate rooms and I would connect our sessions.
Amanda blushed, “…if you want that. I have a big bed and my room is nice. Will you stay with me? Pretty please?”
“Of course, love. Of course I will.”
Her room was like mine, except the electric walls had been changed to a colorscape of rainbow clouds of gradient hues, the clouds flowed over the walls in digital motion. I hadn’t even thought to animate my room, I had so much on my mind, how could I have? But a girl, a girl in a hotel room, in 2100, the first thing she does is check the voice commands and figures out how to digitize beauty into the real world. It’s one thing to experience infinite beauty in the Everse, but it’s something else to be surrounded by enlivened colored glory, while wrapped in a blanket, that is actually real. One is imagination, and the other is luxury, princessdom. Amanda took off her shoes and jumped on the bed and beckoned me to join her, I did the same and did as she asked and sat on the side of the bed, watching her. She hopped a few times and landed with a thud and grabbed the down comforter and scooted under it, peeping up at me from within her cozy heaven.
“What kind of story will you make for me?”
I smiled, “The kind worth remembering, sis. The kind that just might, TICKLE ATTACK!”
I moved suddenly and tickled her, for just a few seconds, she giggled and kicked as a little sister would, “Nooooooooooo stop,” she said, in between laughs.
“Okay, okay, enough monkey business. Log in and I’ll be in after a moment, okay? I just need a second to improvise, come up with something good, without your little peeping eyes trying to read my mind!”
“Can I visit your house?”
I brought up the UI overlay and granted her administrative privileges to a replica of my home, the details of which were backed up in my chip.
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”
Amanda nodded and whispered, “Everse login” and slipped into the digital subconscious, as her mind entered the private Everse network that we had cordoned off.
Seeing her in her dream like state, I started tearing up again, and I quickly went and washed my face in the bathroom, my violet eyes were puffy and red. I felt so anxious. Can chemistry outdo all sorrows of the knowing soul? I am haunted, and woe, with the blessing of the muses may I be an inspired storyteller, that the little girl in my custody sleeps in heaven, none the wiser. We will have our pocket in heaven, this day, and we will have our encapsulated joy in the physicality, her soul’s last moment of non-pixellated authenticity. Girls night. Later on we’d star in and direct a hologram movie, her, me and Saraswati, not from within the Everse, but cuddled up on the couch, there is something sentimental still in existing in the actuality. Saraswati would play us music, we would eat our deserts, and Amanda and I would drift off into chemical slumber. And then my sister and I would have our Great Dream, our chronologically-bound affection, our heaven in a cordoned-off bottle. —