29
Identity: Bobby Baxter
The world stood transfixed by the scene.
I was still sitting in Patricia’s office, but Jimmy had begun broadcasting the events from Command live and direct into the world’s media channels for everyone to see. An audience of billions was tuned-in to witness the destruction of Atopia, but not in the way we’d expected.
Jimmy stood tall, his image hanging over a bewildered and powerless Patricia Killiam on countless holoscreens and lens displays throughout the world.
“General McInnis,” he called out, “we’ve powered down all systems, and we will sequence down our fusion core at your request. I’ve opened all command-and-control functions to you. Please acknowledge.”
A moment of silence before General McInnis’ voice responded, “Goddamn boy, acknowledged. What the hell?”
“Please, General. Please stand down.”
The general’s image appeared in Command. He stood there, looking around at everyone is disbelief. “You kids sure have some explaining to do.”
One by one, surprised and shocked expressions clicked through the faces in Command. And then it dawned on me, too.
The storms were gone.
I spun out from Patricia’s office, clicking into my splinters arrayed out around Atopia. They all saw the same thing—blue skies, calm seas, and the coast of America sitting serenely on the horizon. The American drones were buzzing angrily in the skies, watching us carefully as Navy destroyers ringed us further out, their weapons armed and pointing at us.
“We were just about to blow Atopia back into the Stone Age,” said the general.
It all became clear.
As Jimmy released information, the mediaworlds began to buzz, and then roar, with stories. The citizens of Atopia had been infected with a group-synthesizing reality skin.
We’d driven Atopia into the coast of America, trying to save ourselves from nonexistent storms projected from an infected reality skin while the rest of the world had watched in puzzlement and amazement.
Atopia had, at first, inexplicably breached American territorial waters, and then began furiously shipping off non-nationals via its passenger cannon. Amid confusing and contradictory reports, Atopia stowed and locked itself down, cut off all communications, and started powering up its fearsome weapons systems.
America had no choice but to prepare to defend itself.
If we’d powered up the slingshot and mass driver, General McInnis had his finger on the trigger to unleash a hailstorm of tactical nuclear weapons to destroy us, an attack that even our automated systems couldn’t have repelled.
Patricia rematerialized in her office with me. She looked grim.
My anger had deflated, I was stunned. “Thank God, Jimmy figured it out.”
“Don’t thank God,” said Patricia quietly. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, but I wasn’t sure until now.” She looked at me with weary eyes. “I need you to do something for me.”
I waited.
“I need you to leave Atopia as soon as they open up the surface, and take Sid, Willy, Brigitte, and please take Nancy away from here.”
“Why?” What could she possibly need us to leave for? I’d never even considered leaving Atopia before, except for that one time I’d gone sailing with my brother. It was all I’d ever known. Even the thought of leaving made my skin crawl.
“I can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.”
Even if I wasn’t angry anymore, my trust in her was almost completely gone. “Give me one good reason.…”
“For one thing,” she said with effort, “Willy’s connection here through Terra Nova will almost certainly be revoked now that Jimmy has instituted martial law. He’ll be exiled. Do you want him to go alone?”
Jimmy had mentioned it, but I hadn’t considered it a real possibility.
“I have a feeling that both Willy and Sid will be implicated in what has happened,” she continued. “As soon as the surface opens, I need you to get away from Atopia.”
Patricia looked tired beyond comprehension.
“Please take Nancy from here,” she added. “And apologize to Vince for me—I couldn’t get Kesselring to remove the system we have chasing him.”
I nodded.
She looked down, her hands shaking, and then closed the connection to her office.
Snapping back into my body, I found myself sitting with Nancy and Sid and the rest of our gang in the dimly lit cafeteria. Robert had taken my body out of the water, and while we sat together, everyone was splintered-out, watching the frenzy in the mediaworlds. They were transfixed by the unfolding media storm.
Only Jimmy had been able to see it. Images of him, the savior, were featured on the covers of magazines and billboards, instantly appearing in millions of metaworlds. Synthetic forensic intelligences tore backward through the path of the reality-virus, reverse hacking toward its origin, and the media began buzzing about Terra Nova unleashing the virus to destroy Atopia.
Stories began to emerge about the futures of world destruction that Patricia had been hiding, how the Atopian pssi program was designed as the solution to save us, and how Terra Nova had attempted to stop it for their own profit. Information about the coming phuture apocalypse gained ground.
There were even reports about Patricia hiding some of the addictive effects of pssi and how there were ways to control them. Smiling images of Dr. Hal Granger began appearing, explaining how he’d short-circuited the addiction pathways to ensure there was no danger anymore.
The image of Patricia struggling to force Jimmy to carry out the launch remained in the center of it all. Jimmy had managed to save the world, and his grateful audience was spellbound.
“Patricia wants us all to leave,” was all I said upon my return to the gang.
Everyone turned toward me in shock as parts of their minds disengaged from the media frenzy to better comprehend what I was saying. I left a splinter to explain what had happened while I flitted off to the surface to see what the damage had been to our habitat, to see if there was anything I could do, and more importantly, to put my own thoughts in order.