“I’m sorry,” he said.
Jay waved a hand at him and stared down at the floor. She shuddered.
“Ah, why am I blaming you? You didn’t choose to come in here.
I
did.”
Silence descended. Jay shook her head gently. Constantine wondered if she was crying.
—It could all be a trick, of course, said Red.
—Shut up, Red, Blue said.
—I don’t think it’s a trick, said White.—Something’s happening. This room is not maintaining its integrity. I see it when we move around. Parallax. Things aren’t quite where they should be. Something is draining system resources.
—So what’s the point of saying anything? Blue asked.—As soon as DIANA gets proof that we’re in here, we’ll be wiped anyway.
Constantine nodded. The idea had already occurred to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but White interrupted.
—Something big has just happened. Get ready to move.
Constantine opened his mouth to ask what, then he saw it for himself. For a moment the room flattened, became two dimensional. Jay became a picture, pasted to the wall. The bed, the writing desk, the view from the windows, were all just a flatscreen picture.
Jay was moving, standing up, the robe slipping to the floor.
“What was that?” she asked.
Normality began to reassert itself. Her body separated from the wall. Looking down, Constantine saw his feet, regained his illusion of depth.
“I don’t know…”
Marion and Mary were in the room; the balcony window had been pushed open.
“Quickly,” called Marion, “this way.”
They brushed briskly past, heading for the door that led to the bathroom. Barely two days ago Constantine had showered there and attempted to rid himself of a headache. Now he was running for his virtual life.
“DIANA almost got a handle on you there,” explained Mary. “We had to relocate this room within the simulation.”
Constantine wanted her to explain more, but Marion had pushed open the door to the bathroom and he saw what she meant.
Through the door he could see another place. He saw the dark emptiness of a field, the night sky pressing down from above. They were looking out across the first level of Stonebreak. At the edge of the horizon was visible the first pale line of the approaching dawn.
Constantine wondered if he would live to see it.
Now they were making their way through the farmlands of the first level, wading through muddy fields, stumbling into ditches, pushing their way through hedges. Behind them rose the dark mass of the city proper.
Mary was gasping for breath. “Too tired. Too tired. Stop…can’t keep it up.”
Constantine was tired too, his breath heaving. Marion was talking into her console.
“Okay,” she said. She called out to the group.
“Over here. They’ve prepared an area for us.”
—Why do we have to keep moving? complained Red.
“Keep us moving, stop us thinking,” gasped Constantine out loud. He
wanted
them to hear what he said. Let them know he was onto them.
“Not true,” said Marion. “Don’t you realize the danger we’re all in? Come on. This way…”
They ran into a cornfield: genetically modified corn, standing taller than they were. They pushed on through the damp plants, tangled strings of vegetable matter clinging to their faces and bodies. On and on, pushing and pushing, lost in a maze of stalks. Just when they thought it would never end, they emerged into a clearing. They all fell panting to the ground.
“Okay,” Marion gasped, “we should be as safe here as anywhere else.”
Jay was biting her lip. Trembling. Hesitantly, Constantine put his arm around her. Wordlessly, she pressed closer. It felt nice. Constantine felt guilty.
“What now?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Marion. She was looking at Jay thoughtfully. “We just wait and see.”
The sun was rising. The heads of the surrounding corn were silhouetted against it. So he had lived to see the dawn. Now would he make midday?
They sat on prickly stubble in a cleared area, corn tickling their legs and bottoms, damp broken stalks caught in their hair and clothes. Constantine was holding Jay; the others were almost touching. Huddling for safety. No one had spoken for some time. They all looked at each other. Wondering. What was happening outside? Marion was watching Jay like a hawk. Why Jay? Why was she in here?
Constantine tried to distract her. He asked Mary the question that had been bothering him since he had first discovered where he was.
“I never understood, why were you in the simulation?”
Mary looked up at him and shot him a tired smile.
“Trying to get you to look at things from another perspective. You look at Stonebreak and you see it in terms of money flowing in and money flowing out. I was trying to get you to see the human cost.”
“But why?”
Mary and Marion glanced at each other. Marion spoke first.
“Because we think you are on the wrong side. We want you to join us.”
“What? Join 113 Berliner Sibelius?”
They laughed shrilly. The sudden release from the tension they had all been living under had made them slightly hysterical. Eventually they regained control. Mary spoke next.
“Oh, Constantine. You’re still thinking in terms of money. This isn’t about you being an employee of DIANA and us being employed by 113 Berliner Sibelius. Our loyalties go far deeper.”
“To who? Who are you working for?”
Mary laughed. “Me, Marion, all of 113 Berliner Sibelius. We’re working for the AIs.”
Constantine sneered. “Aren’t we all?”
“DIANA isn’t, but DIANA is practically alone. DIANA still thinks in human terms, Constantine. Humans plan five or ten or twenty years ahead. They’re using up the last of the oil now and leaving their children the problem of what to do when it’s all gone. AIs don’t think like that. They’ll still be here tomorrow to deal with the mess they make today.”
Constantine was scornful. “DIANA is run by AIs just like every other corporation. It wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise. Why should DIANA be any different than 113 Berliner Sibelius?”
Marion spoke in a low voice. “Because DIANA set up the Mars project. Only DIANA has tried to fight the Watcher.”
Constantine laughed. “Oh, come on. No one even knows for sure if the Watcher exists. It’s a very attractive story, true. My grandmother used to go on about it all the time—”
“Of course the Watcher exists,” said Marion, sounding tired. “We’ve known that for years.”
Constantine was stunned.
—It’s true, said Grey.
“What? But…but…why wasn’t I told?”
Marion looked at him.
“That question wasn’t addressed to me, was it? Well, I’ll answer it anyway. Everything about this war you are fighting is a secret. Look at you: a ghost. Did you honestly expect to be told everything? The Watcher has been in contact with every major corporation on Earth since 2068.”
“Just before Stonebreak was begun,” said Jay.
“And since then DIANA has been fighting its last war.”
“Its last war? Over what?”
“Over who controls human destiny.”
Constantine said nothing; it was obvious that Marion had scored a telling point. Jay stared at him. “Is this right?” she asked. Constantine looked at Marion as he answered.
“In a way. It’s what the Mars project is all about.”
Jay turned to Marion. They were all just dark shapes in the clearing, their whispers cutting through the damp air. Jay’s frustration was evident in her voice.
“Look, what’s going on? What’s the Mars project all about? What do you mean, fighting to control human destiny?”
Marion shook her head. “It’s not so much a fight as a vainglorious rearguard action, doomed to failure. Humanity surrendered control to the Watcher fifty years ago, back when Berliner Sibelius bought the design for a cold fusion system from the Watcher.”
“They bought the design? What was the price?”
“Nothing like what you’d expect. No money, just a commitment to a fast phaseout of fossil-fuel-powered ground vehicles.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” said Jay.
“It wouldn’t have been that good a deal,” said Mary. “Back then there were too many vested interests. Cold fusion wouldn’t have provided as much profit as the infrastructure built on fossil fuel. At least, not initially.”
“And when it didn’t,” interrupted Marion, “Berliner Sibelius decided to cheat the Watcher. They were slow on the changeover. They allowed things to slide, made excuses, cut corners. They thought they were getting away with it. After all, what could the Watcher do to them? Take away the plans? It was too late for that. They thought they were safe. What do you suppose the Watcher did?”
“I don’t know.”
“It gave the design for an even better form of cold fusion to Imagineers. They were a small company back then, two women on the edge of bankruptcy. Now they’re the third-biggest corporation around. Berliner Sibelius only just avoided collapse. The warning was clear: the Watcher was taking control.”
Jay looked from Marion to Constantine.
“Do you agree with her?” she asked him. “Is DIANA really fighting the Watcher to preserve the right of humanity to control its own actions?”
Constantine paused, listening for Grey, who remained silent.
“Yes.”
Jay sat for a moment in shocked silence. In the near dark, Constantine saw her obstinately fold her arms.
“Okay. So it’s true, then. It’s still not a war, though.”
“But it is,” Constantine said thoughtfully. “Because
if
there is a Watcher guiding us, manipulating us, how can we trust it? We may have replaced fossil fuels with cold fusion, but does that mean every decision the Watcher makes is the right one for us? I don’t think so. Marion’s wrong in helping to fight DIANA. She’s on the wrong side. I don’t think much of the Watcher’s world.”
“Why not?” Mary asked softly. “Our world is just beginning, if only you’d allow yourself to see it. You know, a long time ago, just around the time that Turing first began to think about machines that could solve problems, the same time that Von Neumann began to wonder about self-replicating machines, there was a writer who asked why it was that when we find positive experiences we say that only the physical facts are real, but in negative experiences we believe that reality is subjective. He made an example of those who say that in birth only the pain is real, the joy a subjective point of view, but that in death it is the emotional loss that is the reality.”
Marion dropped her voice.
“The Watcher is right to take control. It is making the world a better place.”
Constantine gazed at her.
—She has a point, said Blue.
In the half-light, he could just make out Mary grinning at him.
“That’s why I was put in here. I’m your conscience,” she said. “It’s a different world, Constantine. You’re fighting for the wrong side. What can we do to convince you of that?”
Marion spoke. “Mary hasn’t told you something else, Constantine. Out in the real world she was regarded as an expert in the field of personality constructs. When she volunteered to come in here she knew what she was committing herself to: the possibility of being turned off at any time. She came in anyway because she believes in what she is saying—”
At that her console suddenly emitted a shrill noise, distilled panic. They jumped to their feet and looked around. Something was coming.
Marion was shouting. “It’s DIANA. They have a pipe into the simulation! They’re looking for you, Constantine.”
“Should I run?”
“Yes! No! I don’t know.”
He took a few faltering steps across the stubble.
Marion called out to him. “No! Come back!” She was listening to the console. “They say we should stand close. In a huddle!”
Constantine came back. They huddled together. Mary to his left, Jay to his right.
“I don’t feel so good,” said Mary.
Constantine squeezed her arm. Brave Mary, he hadn’t known.
“Don’t worry,” he said. It sounded ridiculous even to his ears.
“What’s happening?” asked Jay.
The scenery around them blanked out. They were standing in a grey box.
“They’ve got us!” someone screamed.
“Hold tighter.”
“Oh my God,” cried Mary, sounding strange.
Marion was shouting again. “They’ve found the pipe. Berliner Sibelius has found DIANA’s pipe. They’re going to disconnect it. Ten more seconds…”
“Too long…”
Was that Mary?
“Oh my God!” Mary screamed. The note dropped in pitch. The feel of her body was changing. Fat was melting away. She was changing shape.
Constantine looked at her. Her face was out of focus. She was becoming someone else…she was becoming…him. Constantine. She looked back at him beseechingly.
“Help me, Constantine…” she whispered.
Someone grabbed at Constantine and pulled him away. Dragged him through a door that had appeared, leading into a long, wide, low room full of strange machinery. They were running.
“Why are we running?” called Jay.
“Force of habit,” said Marion bitterly, coming to a halt. “We have humanity written right through us.” She was grey with terror.
“What happened there?” croaked Constantine.
Jay gave a nervous laugh. “Obvious, isn’t it? DIANA is trying to get a snapshot of you, Constantine. They need proof positive that you’re in here.”
“Why? They know I’m in here.”
“Yes, but they need the proof to present to the courts. Look, if a memory attack succeeds in wiping you out, 113 Berliner Sibelius will just run this simulation again. They’ve got your personality backed up in plenty of places. You’ll live the last three weeks over and over again until you give them what they want, and you will in the end, because each time they run you, they’ll learn just a little bit more about how to push your buttons. DIANA knows this. They’ve got lawyers out there. Lawyers who know who has copyright on your intelligence.”
Constantine didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Everything was happening too quickly.
“I don’t understand. Who has copyright on my intelligence?”
—You do, of course, said Grey.—The real you. The one who works for DIANA.