Wildcard (39 page)

Read Wildcard Online

Authors: Kelly Mitchell

Tags: #scifi, #artificial intelligence, #science fiction, #cyberpunk, #science fiction and fantasy, #science fiction book, #scifi bestsellers, #nanopunk, #science fiction bestsellers, #scifi new release

Karl wanted to talk to LuvRay. He could
help, out here where there were no points of reference. The
Sergeant worked by reference points, by holding a great web of
meaning in the mind to navigate the world. LuvRay didn’t. He had no
external means of evaluation. He just knew what to do. The Sergeant
made lightning responses based on an absurdly complex set of
criteria, a constant evaluation of threat and potential gain. And
he seemed to always be slightly in battle. He enjoyed himself,
though, so why should that bother Karl. Let him do what he loved.
He wasn’t a bad guy, just driven. Not even driven, really, just
doing what he was made to do. But that didn’t seem useful out here.
Not at all.

Crap, either one, who was Karl kidding?
Anybody. Even the Benefactor would be fantastic, just someone to
talk to.

He guessed about one Portal per day passed,
but had no means of measuring time. He made a game of controlling
his rotatation, using his pack as leverage. He had one of his
periodic shouting fits, and this time berated the inert Trident. It
could at least work as a watch. What was the point of carrying
around this thing. He should throw it at a -- wait. Trident. Idea,
idea. Trident, if he passed it through a Star Portal. But…the rope!
It was ridiculous, of course. The Portals might be a thousand
kilometers from him as they passed, probably were, but he was bored
and trying to stave off another three day bout of gibbering lunacy,
so he tried the project. It was exciting. The Portal flew towards
him, brightening by the second. Deep blue, and he gave it his best
fast ball, then watched Trident fly wide by ten degrees and shoot
on the backward side as the Portal distorted past him. Pretty
pathetic. He spent the entire time before the next one, practicing
throwing. Next time he threw early, but accurate and knew the
Portals were close enough when it passed through the rope.

The result was bizarre. The section of rope
that passed through went away, but without severing the rope. The
rope was just shorter. Karl reeled Trident in, baffling at the
anomaly. Next portal, he threw like the time before, then yanked
back just before the Portal hit the rope. The world, or Karl’s
body, turned inside out, and he screamed. Trident struck him on the
arm.

“Karl? Is that you? Why do you speak on
Trident thing? I looking for you.”

“How did you find me?” He cursed. “Who are
you?”

“LuvRay. I touched the Trident thing. It
hurt me. And you speaked.”

Karl remembered the doll with the pull
string, “somebody will contact…put on the thing they fear. Ten
seconds.”

“Put Trident on, LuvRay. NOW. Put it on now,
quickly, no questions.”

LuvRay shouted something
indistinct, a cut-out, then a choking noise.
There was a
hissing noise, and a piercing other world metal rending sound from
Trident.

“Identify yourself,” the Sergeant’s voice
said. “Trident, are you there?”

“Yes, boss,” Trident said.

“Sergeant,” Karl said. “LuvRay, what’s
happening?”

“LuvRay? What? Karl, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. LuvRay, are you OK? Where
did he go, Sergeant?”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Haven’t
heard from him in months. LuvRay, ARE YOU THERE?”

No answer.

“Trident, report. Anything on LuvRay?”

“It is a difficult phenomena to describe in
human terms, but his voice may have occurred. It had quantic
interference. I have a signature of the event, but the information
is severely distorted.”

“Skip it, he’s gone. Karl, we may have only
a moment. How did you contact me? Great to hear voice, by the
way.”

“I have a Trident.”

“Impossible. How did you get a Trident?”

“The, um, it was strange who gave it to me,
believe it or-”

“Remove it immediately. Put it on the ground
and move away.”

“It’s already off.”

“Trident, analyze Karl’s instance. Karl,
he’ll scan it for danger. Set it on the ground for now.”

“Well, there’s no ground, here. It’s OK,
it’s sort of tied to a rope.”

“What? Never mind, that’s fine. But be
cautious. It could be very dangerous. We might be monitored.”

“Scan complete. Karl has a substantive,
positively functioning instance, boss. However, it was not one
until thirty eight seconds past. The character changed in the last
few moments.”

“What does that mean?”

“I passed it through a Star Portal.”

“Huh. All right, sounds like you have a lot
happening. Report, but keep it very brief.”

“I, uh, I saw RJ.”

“Is he with you?”

“No.”

“Do you have a means of contacting him?”

“No.”

“Move on, then. I need your current
situation first in case we’re disconnected again.”

“Well, it sucks, actually. I’ve been falling
through space for a month now. I’ve gone batty and back about a
hundred billion times and I want to get-”

“Cut the commentary, Karl. Concentrate on
objective evaluation. My situation, equally difficult: I am trapped
in the Star Portal leading from Mansworld. When I discovered you
were not here, the General ordered me to find it and go through. I
have been here for more than a week, unable to contact anyone, even
Trident. I can determine no means of escape, so any help you have,
please offer.”

“‘All Portals are one.’”

“Sorry? What does that mean?”

“Juniper wrote it. They’re quantum, the
Portals, so it’s like…I don’t know, there were these long
explanations of quantum partial separations and disjoinders and
something called dribble theory. It was long and boring and
incomprehensible.”

“Good. That might be very helpful. Analysis,
Trident. Oh, before that, T, do you have any stats on the stability
of this connection and my connection with you?”

“Unpredictable. Karl’s data has given me
some research points, though. Karl, are you near a Portal?”

He looked. “Yeah. Wow, cool. I stopped when
I put you through. Holy cow. Yay! Jesus, I may be able to-”

“Karl! Please stay with the plot. We need to
get out of here and our situations are connected.”

“They are? Why? Just ‘cause we’re talking
about it?”

“No. It’s called wildspace theory and it’s
not worth going into now. Just trust me, our ability to get out of
this definitely, definitely depends on a mutual solution and maybe
a quick one. Got it?”

“Semi-stable, boss. You have a guaranteed
four minutes of additional connection to Karl. The connection is in
full correlative dependence.”

“What? Why does Trident say stuff like
that?”

“It means that if I lose my connect with
you, I lose it with him, too. Let’s figure this out, Karl. I want
to get out of here. I’m going nuts, and I have orders.”

“Orders? From the General? What are
they?”

“If I find the center, I penetrate.”

That was disturbing. The Sergeant had no
business in Wildcard’s heart. Obviously it was the General’s
business. But that made it worse.

“I’m not so sure I want your help on those
terms.”

“OK, What’s the problem? Talk to me,
Karl.”

“What do you want in the center?”

“Know the terrain. Know the variables. How
can I operate without information? Listen, you won’t get far
without me. Trust me on that. If I’m stuck, you are, too.”

A muffled word came over Trident, then
“Answer.”

“What?” Karl and the Sergeant said
together.

“That was LuvRay,” said Trident.

“LuvRay!” Karl said. “Are you OK?”

There was no response.

“I lost him,” Trident said.

“Twun?” said the Sergeant. “Was that the
first word? Answer? What did that mean?”

“Spell it t-w-o-n-e”, said Trident. “I do
not know what it means. Communications window increased, boss. You
have six minutes. Eight, eleven, nineteen, twenty-three,
twenty-nine-”

“Great. Tell me when you get it up to an
hour, then two hours, T. Cut the constant update.”

“Sixty one minutes.”

Karl floated there talking for a long time.
Trident pronounced the coms stable finally. Karl told the Sergeant
about 8-ball world, RJ, and the Wound. He enjoyed talking to the
Sergeant, who had more interesting things to say than Karl would
have thought. He loved to talk about war and had many cool ideas
that Karl had never thought of. He had trained intensively and the
first Sergeant had been in many actual battles.

“The training feels real when you do it,
though. You think you’re actually, there, fighting, even dying. Or
commanding a squad or platoon under heavy fire. Or an entire army
during a battle. I’ve fought on horseback and in tanks, bombers,
jet fighters, hand-to-hand martial battles to the death, swords,
guns. You name it, I can kill with it. Or kill it. Or both.”

He had seen many war movies. Read hundreds
and hundreds of war books. But, he was affable and friendly, fun to
speak to, with a good sense of humor. Karl remembered the old
Sergeant as less humorous, more serious. He was harder to have
great conversations with. Although he had not been unfriendly.
Just…always in command. The new Sergeant had a different style of
command. There was negotiating room. He was ruder, in a playful
way, more flip. He was young and cool.

“General,” the Sergeant said. “He’s on coms,
Karl.” The Sergeant briefed him, with Trident’s help. He had no
solution to the problem. They talked more and the General mentioned
a box.

“The Box?” Karl asked. “What about it?”

“The box is a heavy duty thing,” the
Sergeant said. “The M-E’s are terrified of it. They seem to be
manipulating us to do something with it.”

“What do you want to do with it, General?”
Karl asked.

“The policy is fluid. First, I wish to find
it. Then, I will decide. If I have power to make such a
choice.”

Karl wondered what sort of grand strategy
could be put into play about the box. Open it? Don’t open it? He
asked the General.

“Where do you open it? Do you move it? Do
you negotiate other benefits by using it? Who is there when you
open it? When do you open it? Why do you open it? Can you close it
once it is opened if you do not like the result? When do you
establish control of the box? Do you create the illusion of control
if you do not ‘ave it? Do you create the illusion of no control if
you have control, perhaps to keep others searching? Do you
negotiate with an M-E to create a faux boite? Or attempt to have
Trident do so? Why are the M-E’s so frightened by the box, although
I have some understanding of that. Do you have track of…”

“OK, I get it,”said Karl, “many variables.
Deep strategy about the box. Can you find it?”

“No, but Monsieur Chose will seek it.”

“Is he working for you?”

“Not exactly, but he will not work against
me. He is out of my vision at present. I will find him, though. Or
the Sergeant will, rather.”

The General excused himself to eat. He would
probably be gone for awhile, as his French meals usually took quite
a bit of time. Breakfast might be quicker, though.

“Read any good poems, lately?” Karl asked
the Sergeant.

“No. You?”

“Scraps,” Karl said. “One quest poem, I
suppose. To find the Poet.”

“I need to know that one, Karl. Why didn’t
you tell me hours ago?”

“Didn’t think about it.”

“Read it now.”

“I don’t have it. But I need to find the
Poet.”

“If you’re sure, I guess you should. I need
to go to the center. Ideas?”

“Have you heard about the old man there?”
Karl asked, then wished he could take back the words. He should
have kept the old couple from the Sergeant, and especially from the
General, if they didn’t already know.

“No,” said the Sergeant. Karl had the sense
that he had begun a second, unheard conversation with the General.
“What about the old man?” The Sergeant’s interest struck like a
rattlesnake.

“You want to kill him.”

“You know I don’t want anything, Karl.”

“The General just ordered you to kill him,
didn’t he? He wants to kill Wildcard. You didn’t say you wanted to
kill Wildcard. You just said you wanted to go to the center.”

“I didn’t lie, did I?”

“I may have to do this alone, Sergeant.”

“I thought you might say that. What are you
going to do, though? You’re just stuck there in space. We have to
work together. You have to help me get to the center, or just float
there alone forever.”

He knew it was true. “I guess you’re right.
Dammit. I’ll fight you, if I can, when the time comes.”

“I know. I can live with that. Do you think
you could win?”

“No.” Karl knew he could not. Not because
the Sergeant was so much better of an opponent, but because he
could tell that Wildcard was inviting the Sergeant to the heart. He
wasn’t sure if he would have to fight him or not. He hoped not. It
didn’t sound like much fun. Karl slept, dreamed the Sergeant was
asking the old man how he would die.

“I will die by water or betrayal. That’s all
I know.” He woke up, wondering if he was the betrayer. The General
was speaking, and had woken him.

“Now do you see, Karl? Now do you see this
strategy?” Karl had almost forgotten the General. Strange, how the
man faded into the background, then appeared with his bizarre
agenda and made it happen.

“Yes, but why? Why take away Wildcard? He’s
one of the good guys.”

“Good and bad, ce sont illusions, Karl. You
choose to believe in such things if you wish, but they are not
real.”

“What kind of strategy is that?”

“It is not strategy. It is truth. Wildcard
says this himself. Though I already knew.”

God, was there no end to this mechanism of
Wildcard? He seemingly intended for the General to kill him. Or did
he? He seemed to be willing the General to approach more directly,
even showing how to kill the old couple. Maybe there would be some
harsh lesson for the General. Karl wanted to change the
subject.

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