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Urle disappeared into the code to find relief.

Kell had not elaborated after the last words.

“You have a task before you, and I see I have disturbed you,” he had said.  “I will leave you to it.”

Continuing to scan the server, trying to find anything that might be useful, Urle still could not take his mind off what he had been told.

The conversation from earlier about the soul came back to him, and Urle wondered now if Kell was simply sounding him out about his own beliefs in preparation for telling him this.  He’d said far more than necessary, more than he normally said in a day to anyone, and he’d had a reason.

Kell was standing completely still, as if a machine that had been shut down, his external sensors said.

A familiar, he thought.  He’d realized it was the closest thing he could call him.  Far better than a lure . . .

His search pinged for his attention.  Putting his thoughts back on it, he saw that he’d found a series of simulations that were not what they seemed.  They were dummy shells of programs with no actual activity.  Not even much content . . . though taking up huge chunks of memory, as much as the system allowed.

He checked the data, and found that this was just a dummy; a trick meant to allow a program to exceed its allowance by pooling several together.

More than several, he found.  Over a hundred allotments, all feeding into . . .

A human simulation.

Not just an approximation of a generic person, either, this was a simulation of a particular person.  All of their organic pathways had been painstakingly scanned and digitized . . .

It had started only three weeks ago, and it was running right now.

He could not tell a lot about it from the outside, just that data.  Not even who it was.

He considered telling Kell, but then decided against it and entered into the simulation.

In a flash of light, his consciousness was inserted into a new world.

He felt the damp, stagnant air.  Saw the neon lights and glittering buildings reaching miles into the dark sky that glittered with stars.

The air was filled with flying vehicles and throngs of people, the majority of them augs.

The gravity was that of Earth’s, and from the singing of crickets, he surmised that this was a simulation of Earth itself.  Of no time or space that had ever actually existed.

This was a fantasy land.

Watching people below walking, sometimes acting and reacting in very believable ways, he wondered how he’d find the subject of this simulation-

Then it all froze.  The flying cars stopped, the crowds paused, even the crickets stuck on their note.

“How did you get in here?” someone demanded.

He’d heard that voice before.

Urle turned around, and saw a dead man.

He did not look that way, of course, and even though Urle had not even seen himself while experiencing the murder – he still knew, without a fraction of a doubt that this was that man.  He’d been him.

The man was nicely dressed.  His parts were chromed and the edges smoothed, with blue running lights.  One eye was organic, the other a large dark sensor with a single glowing dot.

“I connected to the server,” Urle said, making sure that all of his defenses were up.

He was in a world that this man controlled.  The fact that he was here now, that it had all frozen, made it clear that this man was not trapped and fooled into this place.  He was its owner.

“You got into the server station?” the man asked, doubtfully.  “How did you even find me?  It wasn’t chance.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Urle replied, trying to sound calm.  He felt a thousand attempts to access his data.  All fended off – for now.

The man’s attempts were good, but not as good as Urle’s security.  If the man turned off the server, though, and focused all that processing power on him, he could break through, Urle knew.

He kept himself ready to eject, if any sign of the man doing that occurred.

But for now they only regarded each other warily.

“I’m tracking down a crime,” Urle said.  “I’m a private investigator.”

Which was true, but if the man could access much outside his server he’d see that Urle had only been that for all of a few hours.  It was public data.

“No crime here,” the man said tersely.

So, Urle thought.  He probably didn’t have full external access.

That might mean that, while he owned this world, it was also his prison.

“I’m not interested in your takeover of server space,” Urle said, hoping to keep him calm.

“Nothing illegal of the space I’m using!” the man replied sharply.  “I paid for it fairly.  It’s mine!”

“Okay . . .” Urle said.  There was no way that was true.  Even on Gohhi, taking up this much server space was exorbitant.  These were not simple machines one could just build from a box of scraps.  These were atomic-perfect devices.

No one but the most insanely rich could possibly afford that.  And no one was rich enough to maintain such servers for deep time . . .

“You can’t take this from me,” the man said.

“That’s not my goal,” Urle said.  “I really only want justice for a man who was murdered.”

The man looked even more skeptical.  “Who?” he demanded.

Urle swallowed.  “You,” he said.

The man watched him, suspicion still writ on his face, but he sneered.

“You’re a fucking baby if you give a shit about that,” he said.

Urle recoiled.  “What?”

“I did what no one else can,” the man bragged.  “I shed the skin.  I shed it all.”

He raised his arms, and behind him, land that had been just rugged hills suddenly was city.  Crowds walked, the flying cars flew again.  The crickets carried on their songs.

“Here I am a god.”

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< Ep 7 Part 32 | Ep 7 Part 34 >