Rebels gambit sim verse.., p.1
Rebel's Gambit (Sim-Verse Book 2), page 1
REBEL’S GAMBIT
Sim-Verse: Book 2
ALLEN KUZARA
Copyright © 2019 by Allen Kuzara
All rights reserved.
"If you assume any rate of improvement at all, then games will (become) indistinguishable from reality, or civilization will end. One of those two things will occur. Therefore, we are most likely in a simulation, because we exist.”
― Elon musk
“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.”
― Philip K. Dick
CHAPTER 1
Clink. Clink.
Taven turned and saw Dr. Hewitt staring through the glass window, a big dumb grin on the face of this overgrown man-child. Hewitt mouthed something Taven couldn’t hear. Then the scientist’s smile changed into a look of confusion. Finally, Taven raised his hand to his ear, motioning that he couldn’t hear. Hewitt’s smile returned as he punched buttons on the wall below the window.
“Is that better? Can you hear me now?” Hewitt said, his voice now amplified into Taven’s room aboard the quarantine orbiter.
Taven nodded.
“Have an okay weekend?” Hewitt continued. Then there was an awkward silence when the chubby scientist remembered Taven was there against his will, on indefinite detention for crimes unclear.
“Oh, yeah. Right,” Hewitt went on nervously. “Well, I did some thinking since Friday, and I think I’m on to something.”
“Something that will get me out of here?” Taven answered.
With an exaggerated gesture, Hewitt said, “Maybe.” Then, wasting no time, the pudgy-fingered man in a white lab coat shuffled around in his bag and brought out something that Taven couldn’t see and inserted it into the exchange tray.
Hewitt gave another gleeful look through the glass as he and Taven waited for the materials he had deposited to finish being scanned and sanitized. Taven looked away, the eye contact feeling weird, and he couldn’t help but think about the gorilla exhibit he had seen with Amy and Evelynn last summer. He had wondered then if the Silverbacks always had that bored/depressed/stoic look on their faces or if it was because of where they were. Now he thought he knew.
A bing interrupted Taven’s machinations, followed by the computer’s antiseptic voice: “Contents secure.” Then a drawer opened and extended into Taven’s room underneath the glass.
He got up from his chair and walked to the drawer. He didn’t know what to expect but was still genuinely surprised when he saw two syringes sitting there.
“Go ahead. Grab ‘em,” Hewitt chimed. “I’ve got a hunch, and I want to see if it will work.”
“Care to share a bit more with your guinea pig?” Taven asked as he picked up the syringes.
The balding scientist hesitated for a second, not following Taven’s meaning. And then said, “Oh, yeah. I think these may unlock your … well, I think this will help you get out of here.”
Taven didn’t like the direction Hewitt had taken. It was bad enough that Meyer Corp had him dead to rights after he had brought back who-knows-what from the colony ship Hudson, but to keep him in the dark about the experiments they were doing on him seemed extra cruel.
“The red one first,” Hewitt said, licking his lips afterward.
“Where?”
“Doesn’t matter. These are auto-injectors,” Hewitt replied. “I’d put one in each leg.”
Taven swallowed hard and then stabbed himself with the red syringe in the right leg. “Now what?” he asked.
“Feel anything?”
Taven waited. After a moment, he did feel a change. “My eyes are getting heavy,” Taven finally said.
“Good. Now use the other.”
This time Taven didn’t need to build up any courage. Whatever he’d been given seemed to take away his inhibitions, fear, and autonomy. He grabbed the blue tipped syringe and stabbed his left thigh. This time, he felt a sharp pain run up and down his leg and he immediately winced.
“I was afraid of that,” Hewitt said, fretfully.
“Is something wrong?” Taven asked with a muted sense of alarm.
“Oh. No. Nothing. Just a little side effect.”
Before Taven really knew what he was doing, he swooned back over to a chair and sat down clumsily.
“That’s fine,” Hewitt acknowledged. “You can do this from there, I think.”
As the room began to spin, Taven heard himself ask with slurred speech, “What am I supposed to be doing?”
“I want you to tell me about the Hudson, about Cat and how she sent you back from the construct.”
“I’ve already...” Taven found himself out of breath and his head drooped.
“Just tell me again,” Hewitt encouraged.
“We were at the beach. She took me into the water. The waves were at my back, and she told me to look into her eyes. Her green eyes. They were so … I thought I would fall into them. And then the sounds changed and I realized a giant wave was about to sweep us away, except it didn’t.” Taven paused, momentarily lost in the memory. “It submerged us, tore us apart, but I wasn’t underwater. I was in that … place, that in-between state as I shifted back into the real world.”
“Taven, look,” Hewitt said excitedly.
It was only then that Taven realized he had retold the story with his eyes closed. When he opened them, the bright lights made him squint. He expected his eyes to adjust, but they didn’t. It wasn’t the overhead lights that were hurting his eyes; it was the massive spinning wheel of light emanating from the glass pane.
“Isn’t it marvelous?” Hewitt squealed.
Taven could hear Hewitt’s voice, but he could no longer see him. The shimmering phenomenon filled up the window, blocking his view.
“How’d you—”
“I didn’t do it,” Hewitt exclaimed. “You did.”
“I—” Suddenly, Taven felt himself grow faint and the light that had blinded him started to fade. The room grew black, and he felt like he was a million miles away.
CHAPTER 2
“TAVEN. TAVEN,” A VOICE repeated. Taven’s mind seemed far off, and the sound of someone’s voice seemed less real, less immediate than the world he had been in, though he couldn’t rightly name or even remember this other world, the memory seeming to vanish faster than his ability to recall it.
Suddenly, the world snapped to, and Taven quickly sat up from the floor.
“Are you okay?” Hewitt asked.
Taven grabbed his throbbing head and looked toward the window. He noticed the clock above it read twelve, and he wondered how long he had been out. “Yeah, I think—hey, it’s gone. The … thing. What happened?”
“It vanished as soon as you passed out,” came the scientist’s reply. “Maybe I made it too strong. We’ll have to try a weaker dose next time.”
“What’s in that stuff?” Taven pointed at the empty syringes on the floor near the exchange drawer. “And more importantly, what happened?”
“A cocktail of RNase inhibitors and neurostimulants,” Hewitt spit out. “But it worked,” he added excitedly. “It really worked.”
“Yeah,” Taven said, frustrated that Hewitt wouldn’t get to the point. “So?”
“Right,” Hewitt said, snapping back into the conversation. “It’s still a speculation at this point, but the evidence is suggestive.” He stopped and looked down into his bag and pulled out some items that Taven couldn’t see below the window. He seemed to shove something into the computer, and moments later the vid-screen inside Taven’s room came to life.
“That’s you,” Hewitt explained as the greenish-blue against black background imagery first appeared. Taven saw the outline of a human body, like a product of electromagnetic imaging. Then the image changed, seeming to zoom in rapidly.
“You recognize this, don’t you.”
“A double-helix,” Taven answered.
“That’s right,” Hewitt said as if Taven was his pupil. In the past few weeks, he’d been around the chubby man long enough to know it wasn’t conscious belittlement. These egg-head types couldn’t help but see people around them as mental weaklings. Even if it was wrong, it seemed innocent enough.
“Watch as we overlay your genome that Meyer Corp has on file with your current scan.” The computer fussed for a couple seconds before redrawing the screen. This time, it showed two horizontal lines, one running parallel above the other.
Taven looked closely. “I don’t get it,” he said. “They look identical.”
“You’re right, from this point of view. But look closely.” Hewitt zoomed into an even smaller section of the genome. At this resolution, Taven could see multiple nodes along the line highlighted with red. “These spots,” Hewitt explained as he circled the cursor around the red nodes, “are where the differences are. Which was really surprising to me when I first looked at it. It’s so specific, so intentional. No mere virus is going to act like this. Only a conscious mind could act with such specificity.”
Taven exhaled. Hewitt was back in his own private world and was wasting more of Taven’s time. “In layman’s words, please.”
“Right. These nodes represent parts of the human genome that are often overlooked for a very specific reason. Ever heard of junk DNA?”
Taven had, but he thought that scientists no longer accepted the concept. He nodded anyway.
“These segments in our genome aren’t as useless as we once thought they were,” Hewitt said. “But they still take a backseat to a
“Thanks for the biology lesson, Doc, but could you get to the point?”
“Look and see,” Hewitt said, seemingly unfazed by Taven’s slight.
The screen changed again, and the segments in view expanded. Then it became clear. The so-called junk DNA was where there was a divergence between Taven’s old genetic code and what was inside him now. The colors between the two segments were contrasting, red and green—the red ostensibly representing his new genetic material.
“What did she do to me?” Taven mouthed.
“Now that’s not the right question,” Hewitt answered. “We know she … or the construct changed your genome. The real question should be, why?”
Taven blinked and wished Hewitt would hurry up and tell him.
“Well, I think we have a partial answer,” Hewitt continued. “That phenomenon we just witnessed is of primary importance.”
On screen flashed the recording of the experiment on Taven and the bright-as-the-sun shimmering disk that had shone from the window.
“You see, Taven, I figured out part of this pretty quickly. How much do you know about quantum computing?”
Taven sighed and admitted he knew very little, only that its application was limited.
“That’s right. And there’s a good reason for the limitations. Current quantum computers are capable of crunching problems that are beyond astronomic and have been capable of doing this for several hundred years now. Literally, current computing power exists to take into account every atom in the universe. What doesn’t exist is a reasonable way to store such information.”
“Memory shortage,” Taven added.
“Exactly. So, we’ve been left with the problem of having machines that can think about hard problems but with no way of retaining the data from their computations. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but you get the idea. Well, one of the ideas that has been passed around for decades is using genes to preserve memory. It’s still not ideal, but unlike binary code—ones and zeros—nucleotides are composed of four different bases, giving them dynamics more suitable to quantum computing.”
“So it imprinted some kind of information into my junk DNA because that’s the part of my code that wouldn’t be needed?” Taven asked, trying hard to put the pieces together.
“Basically. But it goes further than that. It’s not just information. There’s a reason it was stored in a living person instead of in a group of cells in a lab. The genes actually express proteins, and the proteins are able to actuate, to move, reversing their polarity, switching on and off several times per second.”
“And?”
“And that means they are influenced by your environment.”
“Okay, I thought genes were what controlled your body, the proteins that get built.”
“Yeah, they’re the blueprints. But they respond to your environment, to the electromagnetic signals on the surface of the cell walls, as well as to the myriad of hormones and transmitter/signaling molecules floating through your body.”
“Epigenetics.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Hewitt said even more excitedly, his trapped pupil exceeding his expectations yet again. “And where do the majority of these external signals, the ones that switch your genes on and off, come from?”
Taven felt like he was taking a test in school that he had forgotten to study for, and he couldn’t help but worry that if he got the answer wrong that he’d get trapped here forever. “Your surroundings,” he finally muttered.
“Oh! Man, I thought you had it,” Hewitt said, now fully on his pompous egg-head pedestal. “To a certain extent, you’re right. Your external environment has a huge impact on your gene expression. But even more importantly, it’s your...” He waited, teasing out the answer as if he hoped Taven would guess it. Finally, he dropped his shoulders, giving up. “Your brain,” he pronounced. “It’s your thoughts that influence your genome. Your perception is your reality.”
Ordinarily Taven would have rolled his eyes. Such poppycock esoteric pseudoscientific sounding stuff was what he steered clear of. But today, he had no choice but to take it seriously. Not only was he a prisoner of this impromptu teacher, he had seen the impossible happen with his own eyes.
“So, the construct gave me … abilities?”
“Apparently.”
“To do what?”
“Well, that is still to be determined. We know you do that now,” Hewitt said pointing at the shining disk on the screen.
“But what is that?”
“Again, we don’t know—”
“What do you think it is?” Taven demanded.
“I think that is how you got out of the construct.”
Taven shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. I was plugged into the machines. My mind was seeing what the computer wanted me to see. But I was in my body.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Taven was silent. There wasn’t much that he was sure about anymore. “So if that was how I got out, what am I doing with it now?”
“I think it’s a link, a way back into the construct. I think you could move through it the same way you passed through—what did you call it? The door?”
“Yes. It was how we moved between simulations.”
“Maybe—almost certainly—there are more profound implications from your experience aboard the Hudson than what we first assumed, this being one of them.”
Taven started to ask him how he could be linked to the construct this far away from the Hudson, if it even still existed now and hadn’t burned up in Jupiter’s atmosphere. But before he could formulate his question, Hewitt became distracted. Looking down at his comm unit, he said, “Oh, looks like you have a visitor. I’ll let you rest, and maybe after I modify your dosage we can try this again.”
CHAPTER 3
“HEY, BOSS,” CAME a familiar voice from the other side of the glass.
“Mack Carter, what are you doing here?” Taven asked.
“My next mining tour starts tomorrow. Thought I’d stop by first and see if they were treating you right.”
Taven and Mack exchanged smiles that slowly faded. There was nothing Mack could do for his old boss, and Taven felt like he was a prisoner trying to make small talk with someone from the outside, someone who still had a life and things to talk about.
“Amy and Evelynn came by,” Taven blurted out before he’d thought it through.
“Oh, that’s good. I bet that baby girl’s getting big.”
Another fading smile. “I think Amy’s leaving me,” Taven said before looking down.
“Ah, that can’t be right. Didn’t you tell her about the early payload bonus?”
Taven grinned at how simple-minded Mack was. In his juvenile world, women were like houseplants; instead of giving them water and sunlight, all they required was a full bank account to keep them happy.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Did she actually say something?”
“I just got a feeling, something about the way she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. She kept interacting with Evelynn instead of me and didn’t stay very long. I think she’s had enough.”
Mack was silent, looking away, and for the first time Taven had ever noticed, he seemed serious.
“I had sent home a message,” Taven continued to confess—he hadn’t planned to do this, but the fire hydrant was open now. “I told her I didn’t want to go on her dumb trip with her dumb friend Jamie. I guess it didn’t go over well. I knew it wouldn’t, but I thought that I’d be there to smooth things over.”
Mack continued gazing off to one side.
“Are you hearing me?” Taven pressed.
Still looking away, Mack said, “Uh, yeah Boss. It’s just—”
“Why’d you come all this way to see me if you’re just going to watch vid-screens?”
“It’s not that,” Mack said. “There’s something happening on the station’s security feed.”
“You’ve got security images over there?” Taven asked, futilely pressing his face against the glass.
“Something big, Boss. I don’t know who or what these guys are, but they’re making trouble.”
