Interphase Read online

  Interphase

  by Jonathan and Kira Wilson

  Cover by: E.S. Selznick

  Published November, 2012 by Rising Storm Tales

  Copyright 2012 by Jonathan and Kira Wilson

  Prologue

  The awful truth hit us at 09:43 this morning when the final broadcasts went silent. Earth is a dead world now. The last pockets of civilization were wiped out in the final days of the damnable war. In the forty-three years since our launch, I can't count the number of times I've wondered if something, anything could have been done to prevent all of this. In the end, it doesn't matter. We're it now. The Phoenix-3 houses the remnant of the human race. It chills me to think how close we came to being destroyed by the assault that claimed the other five mission shuttles.

  I gave a speech to the crew, telling them we have to look to the future, now more than ever. If we're going to survive as a species, then we must look out for one another. When this journey reaches its conclusion, we have to find a way to come together and learn from our past mistakes. If we fail, we will again face annihilation. This ship escaped the fire and gave humanity a second chance. I don't intend to waste it.

  Just under two hundred years. That's how long it'll take to get where we're going, if our science officers are right. I'm going to live and die on this ship, but I gave an oath when I took the post. If all I succeed at is getting us a little closer to our new home, I won't have any regrets.

  -Personal Log, Captain Joseph McKay, Phoenix-3 Colony Mission

  ***

  Log 4597-06: Continuation of previous entry. The training sessions have progressed, and the results have been most favorable. The Virtual Executive Regency Administrator program has shown a remarkable capacity for retention and application in multiple fields of study. Thus far, all of our expectations have been met and exceeded. She…

  I must admit I find it strange how the program has anthropomorphized itself in the early stages of its development. It does seem… fitting that the underlying personality leans more toward the caring and nurturing aspects of humanity. Dr. Rush believes that such developments could have long term ramifications if encouraged without restraint, so for the time being we must all be cautious. We are designing the future of our world, after all. A world that shall finally be the dream of peace and safety we hoped for when Phoenix was first colonized.

  When VERA is fully deployed, I hope it can quiet the murmurs of rebellion that have been heard in the corners of New Terra. We have only been here for thirty-five years, and already we begin to fall back into the sins of our forebears. I pray we can halt the decline of our race before the hopes of our future are lost forever.

  -Dr. Carter Wolcott, V.E.R.A. Training Project

  ***

  Internal Network Journal Test, Second Attempt. Is this thing on now? Ah, okay. Well, the feedback continues to pour in. VERA's Network has been an amazing success, even bigger than I could have ever imagined! VERA herself sent me a message earlier, thanking me for the time and research our team has put into the project. The response from the general populace has been overwhelming, well, except for the New Pluto folks. I think they're a little sore that the unveiling of VERA's Network, or 'V-Net' as it's being called, has overshadowed the completion of the last of the Nine Cities.

  I took a day for myself yesterday, to try things out, and for the first time I felt… free. Anything I could imagine was there, at my fingertips, waiting for the right programming to make it real. Well, as real as a virtual world can be. That's the really exciting part. The network is completely customizable to the needs and desires of its users. The neural transition process can take a little getting used to, but now that VERA can see how much this will benefit all of us, continued research and development is a sure thing.

  I get the feeling our division is going to be very busy for the next several years.

  -Personal Journal of Matthew Crown

  VERA-Approved Special Council, Network Programming Division

  Chapter 1

  Night lay upon the silhouette of New Terra like a gray, cloudy blanket. Gentle illumination drifted down from an ivory energy dome that arced over towering skyscrapers, outlining them against the sky. A wide track hung suspended in the air, fifty feet above street level, winding, curving and soaring across the entire cityscape. The city was empty except for a lone figure looking down at the streets from the raceway's starting platform.

  David took in his surroundings with a critical eye and consulted the interface computer strapped to his left wrist. A holographic projection screen appeared in front of him. He scanned the available commands and tapped an option. A cool breeze rolled across his face. Perfect.

  Environment and background stable and complete. David marked another item off his mental checklist.

  Another sequence of screen taps loaded a racing hover-bike at the starting line, and he examined the large, silver-bodied machine. It was shaped like an old Earth motorcycle, with twin hover engines humming where wheels would have been. The handlebars were set deep in the nose, allowing the rider to lay parallel to the road for maximum speed.

  David climbed onto the bike and tested its feel and weight. He pressed a button on the dashboard, and plating slid up and over his lower body. The windshield extended over his head and back. The hover engines engaged and lifted the bike a foot off the track. Gravitic guardrails edging the length of the course powered up with a low hum that rippled across the city.

  Nodding to himself, David marked another item off the list. He gazed down the opening straightaway, and his grip tightened on the handlebars. Temptation crept in, enticing him with the challenge of speed ramps, hyper turns and 360 degree rollovers—

  With a frustrated sigh, David shut down the bike and pried himself loose from its snug grip. There wasn't time for that, not if the module was going to be ready for him by the deadline.

  "This program of yours… I like it. I want one. You're gonna make a special one just for me, or I'll burn your connection to the ground and laugh at the ashes."

  The sudden jolt back to reality, as David remembered the last five sleepless nights, brought a growl to his throat. With a pair of angry flicks he unloaded the bike and activated the control platform.

  The silver disc materialized in front of him. He stepped on and waited for the railing to rise from the platform. The command console blinked on, and he tapped a short sequence of buttons. The disc rose and floated over the course toward the first control array.

  David cast his gaze across the vista of his creation. Despite the frustration at the situation, his pride swelled. The module was a masterful piece of programming, and it saddened him that he wouldn't see it again after tomorrow.

  The control platform drifted higher, and a gust of wind howled past his ears. The first array sphere lay ahead, a freeway intersection of faint blue light-streams that flowed into a globe just above the virtual pavement. He maneuvered the platform to the array's control point and brought up his wrist interface. He launched the program compiler and watched with satisfaction as the data streams pulsed. One by one the lines flared and went solid, indicating they were locked into the array.

  The compiler finished, and a shimmering pulse fired down the track toward the starting platform, saving the data to his personal computer back in reality.

  Two more arrays waited further up the track.

  David typed in a new destination, and the platform started toward the next array. Out of nowhere, a roaring gale filled his ears, and the disc rocked as if struck by an invisible hand. He seized the railing and fought to steady himself. Slowly the platform calmed, and he regained his footing.

  The disc continued, and David noticed the air had gone still. He checked the program parameters f
or environmental glitches, keeping one arm hooked securely around the railing. No anomalies detected. He frowned; the deadline was early tomorrow. He thought he had coded everything correctly, but if the module was bugged in any way…

  Light flashed in the corner of David's vision. An instant later a gust slammed into the disc and hurled it down several yards. He slipped and grasped at the rail with both hands to prevent a fatal fall. Clutching the rail in a death grip, he struggled to pull himself up. Another flicker caught his eye, and he looked toward the horizon.

  "Oh hell."

  Less than a mile from his position, a mass of roiling clouds raced toward the city, throwing lances of white fire with blind fury. The air distorted around the swell; it blazed through the virtual atmosphere. A Crash Storm.

  David hauled himself onto the platform. Stories about a Crash Storm's destructive power had circulated V-Net for years. They appeared without warning, were impossible to predict or track, and could rend a mid-sized module to code fragments within minutes.

  A spear of lightning arced over the disc. Another bolt blasted a crater into the racetrack below, charring the area and pelting David with chunks of debris. He could see the next control array. He had to lock down what he could.

  He directed the platform to the collection of data streams. Some now showed black instead of blue, but most were intact. With one arm wrapped around the railing, he struggled to keep his hand steady over the control screen. The air reverberated with thunderclaps. Lightning streaked by his elbow, so close that the heat singed his skin. The compiler finished its task, and David, wincing with pain, saved the program section to his computer.

  The platform moved toward the final array as the inner wall of the storm loomed above. Lightning cascaded across the sky and ripped over the disc's path. Helpless in the air, David took manual control of the platform and plunged down. He ducked underneath the track and accelerated to top speed.

  His ears ached from the booming thunder as he hurtled into the heart of madness. Like an invading army bent on razing an enemy city, the Storm heaved lances of electric death at the racetrack, skyscrapers, even the streets and alleys below. Wild bolts tore into the track and showered him with fragments of charred pavement. Just ahead, a full section of the raceway broke free and plummeted to the ground, rocking the disc with a brutal shockwave.

  David raced across the open gap and hoped luck would see him through unscathed. The other side loomed near. Suddenly, the air blazed with heat and energy. A lightning bolt struck and shattered the platform beneath him, hurling him from the disc. The ground rushed up at him, and he raised his hands instinctively—

  A faint whine filled David's ears, and he found himself on the starting platform. His railguard sub-routine had worked as intended and returned him to the beginning. Without warning, lightning tore down his shoulder and crushed him to the ground. Pain and numbness cascaded through his body, the sensations warring with one another. Another bolt scored the pavement less than a foot away. He stared blankly, pelted by fragments that turned shapeless and opaque.

  An interminable moment passed, and David blinked, unsure if he may have passed out. The sound of thunder seemed to have faded away. He stumbled to his feet, grasping his burnt arm, and looked over the destruction.

  Bits and pieces of race track hung in the air, connected to the two saved arrays like beads of dew on a spider's web. The remainder of the course littered the ground below, black, shimmering and formless. He didn't understand how, but the Crash Storm had reverted the track's substance to base code material, severing it from the program matrix that gave it mass and texture.

  Fear and anxiety crept into David's mind. He ran a mental inventory over the tasks he needed to accomplish to complete the module. He checked his wrist computer and noted the time: nine hours.

  He had only nine hours before the deadline expired, his freedom was taken, and life as he knew it ended.

  Chapter 2

  It took David half an hour to restore communication functions to the module. He placed a call to the one person he knew he could count on. "Jessica? Are you awake? Pick up if you're there. It's David."

  At first the only reply was silence, and then faint strains of music drifted from the other end of the communicator. "And a good evening to you too," said a pleasant, if slightly drowsy, voice. "You're calling late. I was just about to head to bed."

  "I know. I really hate to bother you this late, Jess, but…" David sighed. "I'm in serious trouble. I just got caught in a Crash Storm."

  "What?" Jessica sounded wide awake now. The music ceased in the background. "David, are you all right?"

  David gave a shaky, miserable laugh. "No, not really. It tore through a very important module I've been working on. I absolutely need to have it done by tomorrow morning. Can you come and help me fix it?"

  "I'm on my way right now."

  "Any chance you could bring a first aid program with you?"

  "Oh no, were you hurt?"

  David felt a soothing warmth at the concern in Jessica's voice. The throbbing in his shoulder faded briefly. "Well, it's not that bad."

  Static crackled from the communicator, and David could feel the pressure of Jessica's unseen glare. "I'll be the judge of that."

  A minute passed, and a small panel lit up on the communicator, indicating Jessica had logged into V-Net. "All right, I'm in. Where are you?"

  David struggled to reply, nervous about what Jessica's response would be. "It's, uh, a secure module… you'll need the I.D."

  Another pause. "Oh."

  "Yeah." David grimaced, mentally kicking himself for getting her involved. "Do you still want to help?"

  "What's the I.D.?" There was no recrimination or disapproval in her voice. Again, a warm feeling filled him as he gave her the program's identification tag.

  David surveyed the wreckage of the module. He had done what he could on his own. Thankfully, the control platform was a compiler function and not part of the module, so it hadn't been destroyed. A full sweep of the program had revealed which subroutines sustained the most damage. He knew what needed to be done; his main concern now was time. Even with Jessica's help, it would be close.

  Sleepless night number six, coming right up.

  David blinked as Jessica loaded in. He must have caught her just before bed. Her hair, usually tied in golden braids, flowed loosely down to her waist, framing her soft face and light brown eyes in a way that made his heart jump. She noticed him staring, and he looked down with a blush.

  She gasped when she saw his shoulder, wincing in sympathy. "We take care of that first," she said.

  Happy to oblige, David knelt down. Jessica delicately peeled away the burnt clothing. He struggled to keep a straight face, but the pain elicited a flinch. She gave a final tug, and the cloth came free.

  "Oh, David."

  "That bad, huh?"

  "You're lucky the Storm didn't kill you!" She shook her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them, a roll of white bandages rested in her palm. She removed a large strip and laid it over David's wound. Pain flared on contact, then faded as the cloth dissolved into his skin. The repair programs written into the bandage slowly overcame the code damage from the Storm, and before long the worst of his pain had subsided.

  David gave Jessica another smile, and a thousand different words rushed to his lips, but he only managed a whispered, "Thanks."

  "Thanks are never necessary." Jessica returned his smile. "Now, you said there was work to be done?"

  David nodded and pointed to the control platform. "The Crash Storm tore off a lot of base code. It's scattered across the city floor." He paused in thought. "If you gather it up and bring it back here, I can reformat it and reconnect it to the array spheres."

  Jessica considered the platform. "I can do that. Just show me how to fly it."

  They worked in relative silence for the first hour. Once the tasks became routine, Jessica started to ask questions. "You said it absolutely needed to be rea
dy by tomorrow," she said through the communicator. "Why is it so important?"

  David grimaced. "You don't want to ask. The answer will upset you."

  "David…"

  He knew the warning wouldn't have been enough. "If it isn't ready by 9 AM, I get jailed again."

  "What on Phoenix are you talking about?"

  David sighed. Here it comes. "About a week ago, a V-Cop caught me at work, after-hours. I was using the large-scale interface to compile an illegal module."

  He consulted the holo-screen and moved a large piece of code material to a separate pile. Jessica knew what he did in his spare time. She didn't really approve, but he wanted to be upfront with her regardless.

  "Did he call the bots?" Jessica asked.

  "No. He blackmailed me. Told me to build a gaming module to his specifications or he'd make me regret it."

  "A V-Cop actually said that to you?"

  David paused, surprised at the shock and outrage in Jessica's voice. "More or less."

  "You have to tell Roger. That cop could be on his squad. He would want to know." Jessica hesitated. "Maybe he could help."

  David snorted bitterly. "He wouldn't do anything when I got nailed the first time. That's not likely to have changed. I figured this would be an easier route than giving my step-father yet another reason to be disappointed in me." He slammed a formless lump onto the growing pile. "The Crash Storm apparently had other plans."

  Jessica's tone turned grave. "They've been happening more frequently of late. No one knows what's causing them."

  David murmured an assent, eager to shift the topic from his own troubles. Looking around the shattered module, he shivered as he thought about how close he'd come to death. Since he was a young child, the Storms had struck randomly across V-Net. No one had found a way to stop them.

  "Someone has to do something," David whispered to himself and was surprised when Jessica chuckled.

  "If anyone could, I wager it would be you."