Young Writers Society

Author's Note:

Hey all, it's taken me a couple more days to bang out this chapter. I've been a little busy lately with finals and all :(

Regardless I am thankful for the praise and even more so the criticism I received on the Prologue, and that section of the book shall be redone at some point in the near future. If you want more detail on what I have in mind in that regard then you may read my replies to comments from the Prologue.

As always, leave a review if you have time, and don't if you don't! I just hope you enjoy! Thanks a bunch :P

-Wizard

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Chapter 1:

17 YEARS LATER

Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty… This was getting hard. Twenty-One, Twenty-Two… But a tool didn’t complain about the difficulty of its task. Twenty-Three… Twenty-Four… A tool would continue functioning under any circumstance, brave through any task… Twenty-Five… Until… it.... Broke! Twenty-Six… And the ideal tool could be mended. Again… Twenty-Seven… And again… Twenty-Eight… And-

“Cadet Four-Sixty-Eight!” a voice interrupted.

Tracy dropped from the pull up bar, sweat dripping from every surface on her body, breath ragged, heart pounding at an uncomfortable intensity. She turned around and gave her superior a proper salute by crossing her left arm over her chest, straightening her back.

“What can I do for you, sir?” Tracy asked between pants, looking up at Frank Van Hove, Chief of Law Enforcement for District 8. The Chief stood next to the entrance of the workout area, a pad of paper in his hand.

“As a matter of fact, Cadet,” the man said, walking over to his subordinate, “I came here to congratulate you on your work. You’ve done a phenomenal job with your investigation of the Zenne Incident. You even found clues from the footage that we hadn’t yet discovered ourselves.”

Tracy beamed inwardly, but was careful to not let her emotions affect her outward appearance. “Thank you, sir. If you don’t mind me asking, is there another reason that you’re here? If you only wanted to congratulate me, you could have done so at tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Intuitive as always, Four-Sixty-Eight.” The man confirmed, handing her the pad in his hand. “As you should know from taking it up as one of your training projects, headway hasn’t been made in the Zenne incident for over a decade now. The terrorist’s identities, motives, and methods still remain undiscovered until this very day. You, however, seem to have picked up the trail in your efforts. And therefore I’ve decided to grant your request for an interview with Doctor Felicia Nelson.”

Tracy glanced down at the pad in her hand. On it was the proper documentation to allow her transport to New Amsterdam, and a warrant of investigation mandated by the Inquisitor’s Agency.

“Sir I…” Tracy began, at a loss for words. “This is unprecedented sir!” She looked back up at him, disbelief crossing her expression. This practically meant that she had been assigned to resurrect the investigation into one of the most mysterious incidents in the history of the reign of The Council. This seemed like a job more appropriate to be given to a Senior Inquisitor.

“If we’re being fair here, I’d say the only thing unprecedented here is your dedication and prowess in the field, Four-Sixty-Eight.” the Chief replied. “You’ve earned this, Cadet. Good work! Get ready, you leave in two hours.”

With that, the Chief strode out of the room, leaving Tracy with a puzzled look written across her face. A cadet that hadn’t even completed her training. Assigned to take on the cold trail of the most infamous incident of violence in the 25th Century? This was… exactly what she deserved.

A wicked smile crossed Tracy’s face. She started towards her bunk in order to pack her things. Why shouldn’t she be assigned this task? She was the best. And the most challenging tasks required the most skilled undertakers, after all.

As she walked through the hallways of the Inquisitor’s Academy, Tracy passed a few of her fellow cadets, who noticed the abnormal amount of confidence in her stride. They all looked away as they met her eyes, though. They’d learned by now to not interfere with her actions.

Tracy couldn’t help but inwardly scoff at their incompetence. Whenever she looked into their eyes, she found nothing but personality. Individuality. They didn’t seek to become an Inquisitor to serve humanity. They wanted the job for themselves. The thing that Tracy would always have and that her peers wouldn’t was her mindset.

Tracy’s management of her own mind was a very delicate balancing game. In order to maintain her usefulness as an Inquisitor, she needed to walk the line between human and machine. She had to maintain enough autonomy and critical thinking to conduct complex investigations while still letting herself to be guided a sense of duty and complacency that would allow her to unquestioningly follow orders.

The duality of her mind could be likened to that of a sword, she supposed. The blade was a dangerous and powerful tool, able to decide the fate of the lives of others, but the hilt allowed the sword to be handled and directed by its owner. And Tracy trusted her owners indeed.

After all, the totalitarian rule of The Council had brought humanity into a nearly two century long golden age of peace and unity. While Tracy’s judgement was among the best in the district, if not the entire world, she couldn’t argue with the results that The Council produced, and humbly accepted that the mysterious entity was better suited to ruling the Earth than herself.

She started packing her things.

* * *

2 hours later, Tracy stood outside of the Academy dressed in an Inquisitor’s uniform. The outfit consisted of a dark red jacket with the insignia of The Council, an image of the Earth cradled protectively in the palm of a human hand, printed on the back of it as well as a pair of loose fitting slacks of the same color. The jacket was buttoned down the left side of Tracy’s body, the asymmetrical fashion of the uniform meant to distinguish her from the general public.

She’d taken the liberty to wrap a scarf around her neck in order to shield her from the cold of the Western European winter. Her hair didn’t come anywhere close to touching it of course. Tracy couldn’t afford to have her deep brown locks become a grappling point in a fight. Becoming bored, the Inquisitor in training blew experimentally out of her mouth, watching as her warm breath formed a miniature cloud and drifted away from her in the wind.

Her gaze briefly shifted to the looming form of Space Elevator 3 that bisected the sky itself, the tower of carbon nanotubes appearing from her distance as a sliver of darkness that shot up into the layer of clouds that blanketed the sky above it, piercing them on its way to the lower exosphere. The height and position of Space Elevator 3 would, of course, be inconvenient for moving materials to and from the moon, and so the structure instead served as the staging area for placing new satellites into the Earth’s orbit.

The garage of the Academy opened up behind Tracy, a Law Enforcement cruiser emerging from it and driving itself over to her. Finally!

“Good morning, Inquisitor.” a monotone voice recording emitted from the car. Tracy had learned early on that the cruisers didn’t care if their greeting was reciprocated, and waited for the program to continue. “Beginning voice based identification: Please state your first name.”

The cadet cleared her throat. “Tracy.” she said in as clear of a tone as she could manage.

“Please state your last name.” the cruiser continued.

“Not applicable.” Tracy replied.

“Please state the reason for the lack of a last name.” the cruiser requested. Tracy held the bridge of her nose and sighed. Didn’t these machines communicate with one another? She’d gone through this process a hundred times over. “Reason One: Multiple last names. Reason Two: Unpronounceable-”

“Reason Six!” Tracy interrupted the cruiser, rolling her eyes. For all the advances made in digital technology over 500 years she still felt like nothing had really changed in regards to its handleability.

“Confirmed! Reason Six: Orphan. Voice based identification lines up with facial recognition. Thank you for-”

“Just open the door.” Tracy said through gritted teeth, growing impatient with the vehicle.

The cruiser finally stopped talking with that annoyingly unenthusiastic voice as the door swung open. Tracy quickly threw her bag into the shotgun seat of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s position.

“Welcome to Cruiser 0256, Tracy Null!” the cruiser greeted her. That was how all the Law Enforcement AIs referred to her. It was one of the many reasons that Tracy had earned the nickname of “Null” among the other cadets. “Please enjoy the ride.”

With that, the cruiser started the two hour drive to New Amsterdam, Tracy shuffling through her bag to draw out her notes.

“Would you like me to start one of your personal music playlists, Inquisitor Null?” the cruiser asked.

“Sure.” Tracy replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Now please don’t talk to me unless in an emergency situation for the rest of the trip.”

“Confirmed.” the cruiser stated as the sound of David Bowie’s The Man Who Sold The World filled the interior of the vehicle.

Tracy flipped through her personal notes. Not much was known about the Zenne incident in general, as all of the physical evidence had been destroyed along with the Arch. What little information Tracy did have to work with was based off of camera footage of the incident, in which a masked woman who displayed what could only be described as supernatural abilities had brought down the bridge by severing key structural weak points in the Arch’s architecture.

Based on the shape of the cuts that had been made in the steel and certain residues left on the halves that weren’t underwater, thermite had almost certainly been the means by which this had been achieved.

Tracy’s ideas about the incident were based on logical deductions of the attacker’s actions, for the most part. After reviewing the camera footage a dozen or so times, one thing seemed odd to Tracy. Why would the attacker have delayed herself by venturing into a few rooms at random and destroying the equipment within them when it would have been destroyed regardless by the Arch’s fall regardless?

Furthermore, the Zenne incident violated the traditional norms of terrorist attacks in that nobody had claimed responsibility for the atrocity. In fact, the attacker had not been seen again after she leapt from the Arch into the river below. It was possible that she’d died from the fall or drowned, but Tracy deemed that to be unlikely after witnessing what other baffling feats the woman had been able to accomplish.

It seemed clear to Tracy that the destruction of the Arch was only a means of hiding evidence for the attacker, and not her main objective. One detail struck the inquisitor in training as even more suspicious, however.

In the room 137, the camera had been destroyed by the attacker, while all other cameras in separate rooms had been left intact. This could have been chalked up as a coincidence in Tracy’s notes, but then she had noticed that the woman took three times as long to emerge from this room than she did the others.

What Tracy needed if she was to pursue this lead was an idea of what could have made room 137 so special. And that was why she needed to interview the woman who had managed the room, Doctor Felicia Nelson.

As the cruiser sped along the highway to New Amsterdam, Tracy went over her notes again and again, not wanting to forget any details as she questioned Nelson. After all, the doctor was one of the most important and busy individuals on the planet at this point as head of Scientific Advancement and Development, and wasting her time would be an absolute disgrace.

***

Doctor Nelson’s house wasn’t what Tracy had expected. For someone of her pay grade, she should have been living in a far more luxurious estate than this small two story house located in a middle class neighborhood. Wondering if she’d been handed the right address, Tracy exited the cruiser, bringing with her a notepad and pen.

“Stay here.” she told the cruiser.

“Confirmed.” the monotone voice sounded.

Tracy shivered as a particularly strong breeze hit the back of her head as she started walking towards the door, her boots making a soft crunching sound on the frost covered lawn. Tracy rarely felt anxiety over meeting subjects, but Doctor Nelson was a legend. She’d overseen the rebuilding of the New Arch of the Zenne into the housing of Lab C2 and had pioneered the technique of genetically modifying mosquitoes to spread vaccines of new viral outbreaks to the human population, which had worked both far faster than conventional methods and reached more remote areas, saving millions of lives within the decade.

Tracy rapped on the door, taking a step back and straightening her clothing. A few moments later the door opened, revealing a boy of about her age with sandy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes.

“What can-” he began before pausing and looking Tracy up and down. “Huh. Aren’t you a little young for an Inquisitor?”

“Aren’t you a little nosy for a citizen?” Tracy retorted.

“Touche.” the boy replied nonchalantly before waving her inside. “You’re here to speak to my mom, right?”

“Yes.” Tracy replied simply, wanting to get the boy out of her hair as soon as possible. Judging by how he referred to Doctor Nelson, he was Dante Nelson, one of two twins that she’d had at the age of 29.

“Alrighty then. Well, take a seat.” Dante said, gesturing to one of the couches in the living room. “I’ll go fetch her.”

“Do me a favor and make it quick.” Tracy commanded him as he left.

“Yeah, as long as you do me the favor of pulling that stick out of your ass.” Dante called back as he exited into the other room.

That insolent little… No. Tracy wouldn’t allow this imbecile to get under her skin. She was above that. For the first time she took a moment to look at the state of the room around her. The place resembled an abandoned robotics factory. Mechanical gizmos and 3D printed knick knacks littered the shelves and tables, hooked up to various PCBs and breadboards. But Doctor Nelson was a biologist, wasn’t she? This must have been the work of her children.

Before Tracy had an opportunity to take the seat that had been offered to her, the doctor emerged. Tracy forgot to greet her, just taking in the sight of the woman. She wore a turtleneck sweater and jeans, and though she was approaching her middle ages, Doctor Nelson was just… beautiful. Tracy couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the way that the woman postured and moved that simply radiated authority and wisdom. Doctor Nelson didn’t directly look at Tracy, instead choosing to take a sip from the mug that was in her hand which was decorated with a drawing of a plant cell.

“Alright, Inquisitor.” the biologist began. “All I ask is that we make this quick. I’ve got some things I need to get… back… to.” Nelson’s voice trailed off as she met Tracy’s eyes. For a fraction of a second the doctor’s aura of confidence dissipated, leaving behind a look in her eyes of surprise, shock, and… maybe even fear? As quickly as it had vanished Doctor Nelson’s confidence reasserted itself before she burst out into laughter.

“Ahahahahaha! Of course… of course it would be you!” she said in between guffaws. “Of course you were the only one smart enough to…” The doctor’s cackling overwhelmed her as some of the liquid in her mug sloshed around and fell to the floor.

Tracy simply didn’t know how to react to this. She’d never encountered a subject as odd as this one. “Ma’am? Is everything alright?” she asked, unsure of what else to do that put forward the generic question.

“No, no. I’m fine just… ehehe.” the doctor chuckled, starting to calm down. She looked back up at Tracy, those all knowing eyes seeming to pierce into her very mind. “Let’s take this outside, Tracy. I don’t want my kids to hear this.”

“A-after you.” Tracy said, hesitant in her words for the first time in years. An Inquisitor’s real name was never revealed to a subject beforehand. In fact, the subject wasn’t to be informed what Inquisitor would be interviewing them! So how did this woman know Tracy on a first name basis?

“Have we met before?” Tracy asked her.

“You could say that…” The doctor replied nonchalantly, giving Tracy a look that said I know something you don’t before jerking her head towards the front door and striding outside.

Tracy took a moment to steady her breath before following the doctor outside. Something about this entire episode just felt… wrong. She saw the doctor leaning over her porch’s railing and lighting cigarette as she gazed out at the street absentmindedly.

“Those things are going to kill you.” Tracy commented.

The doctor took a puff. “I’m a single mother of two who’s also the head of Scientific Advancement and Development as well as the woman who hides the most dangerous secret in human history. Cut me some slack.”

Tracy shrugged and moved on. Though that comment about the dangerous secret was slightly unnerving. “Well, I came here today, Doctor, to question you about the contents of Room 137, your old-”

“In relation to the Zenne Incident, right?” Doctor Nelson cut her off. “Yeah, I did it.”

Tracy blinked twice. “What do you mean by ‘you did it’?” she asked, somehow managing to keep a steady voice.

The doctor drew in a long drag, sighing and watching the smoke drift away. “I mean that I did it. I’m the woman who brought down the Arch.”

Tracy instantly put her guard up and studied the doctor. Nelson didn’t seem to be ready for a fight, but still… anyone who would simply admit an act of terrorism to Law Enforcement as if it were a conversation about the weather was clearly unstable on some level.

“And you’re just admitting that?” Tracy asked, still flabbergasted by the situation. Somehow she was able to scribble down the contents of their conversation.

“Of course!” the doctor exclaimed, ruffling Tracy’s hair as if she was somehow proud of her. “With someone as smart as you on the job, it’s inevitable that you’ll find out anyways!”

Tracy slapped the doctor’s hand away. “How the hell do you know so much about me?” she demanded.

“Ah! That…” The doctor took another puff. “is a personal question, my little Inquisitor! And for some of those you’re gonna need this.” she took another cigarette out of her pocket and offered it to Tracy.

“What do you mean?” Tracy asked, simultaneously snatching the vile thing out of the doctor’s hand.

“You take one drag, I answer one of your questions. Simple as that.” The doctor said, proceeding to perform the former action herself.

“You’re insane!” Tracy remarked.

Doctor Nelson shrugged. “Probably. But this is still the best way to get me to comply, ‘cause I’m not saying much to you otherwise.”

Tracy regarded the cigarette, not sure whether it was poisoned or not. Well, it already was with tobacco, but considering what Nelson had done at the Arch, Tracy figured that if the doctor wanted her dead she already would be. She held out the cigarette to Nelson, who promptly gave it a light.

“So… how do you know me?” Tracy asked. She attempted to take a breath from the cigarette, but ended up coughing and hacking as the smoke touched her windpipe. “That thing is unbearable!” she protested.

“It gets better quickly, trust me.” The doctor said. “Well, I guess you could call me your mother, in a sense. I’ve been watching your progress since I dropped you off on the Academy’s doorstep.”

Tracy had forgotten to write down the contents of the conversation long ago. “You’re… what are you talking about?”

“That counts as another question.” Nelson commented.

Tracy rolled her eyes and took her second puff. She still sputtered this time, but Nelson was right. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time.

After Tracy’s lungs recovered Doctor Nelson continued. “You’ve probably noticed by now that you’re a bit above the other kids at the Academy in terms of intelligence, right? Also maybe a little more gifted in the reflex department?”

“I…” Tracy hesitated. Well yes, she was, but that didn’t necessarily mean that-

“Oh stop being so humble, kid!” Nelson said, giving Tracy a firm pat on the back. “Let me be the first to tell you that you’re special, Tracy. And it’s not by chance, or because you’re meant to be that way! I designed you with those traits in mind!”

Tracy interjected, attempting to get the doctor to slow down “Wait, are you saying that-”

“Yes, I am! And yes, you are!” Nelson said, forgetting in her vigor that Tracy had asked another question. “You’re one of the world’s first superintelligences, Tracy Nelson! And so far you’ve been a resounding success.”

“Do you know how unbelievably illegal that is?” Tracy halfway yelled, still in shock.

“That’s another drag.” Doctor Nelson noted. “But yes. I do know. I read the laws over and over again. Meant to preserve humanity’s future and blah blah. Look, Tracy, progress doesn’t get made without risk, and if no one else is willing to take that risk then I’ll do it my god damned self. That’s what science is for, and that’s why I did what I did. Now I believe you owe me something?”

Tracy continued the puerile game, barely even huffing this time from the smoke. “If you believe in science then why did you destroy the Arch of the Zenne, which housed one of the most important pieces of scientific infrastructure in the world?”

“Looks like you’re getting used to it, huh?” The doctor remarked. “I destroyed the Arch because I had to be above suspicion. If someone notices that something is missing from a scientific lab, it’s assumed to be one of the scientists. After all, who else would have any use for the equipment? But when one completely destroys an entire scientific lab…”

“It’s assumed to be an anti-science terrorist group!” Tracy finished. It was clever. Maybe even genius. Even she’d eliminated Nelson early on from her list of suspects because there was no reason for a scientist to destroy her own lab.

“So that was what you were stealing? Me?” Tracy asked, taking the obligatory puff.

“Well, not necessarily, but I was stealing the materials and CAS9 proteins that I’d need to create you.” the doctor said, finishing her cigarette and flicking it over the front porch’s railing.

Tracy, barely even noticing the cigarette anymore, took another drag. “How many others are there?”

“Hmm… where’d you get the idea that there were more than one of you?” the doctor asked in a relaxed but almost clinical manner.

“You have two twins living with you and a husband who you divorced after pregnant with them. You also mentioned that I was ‘one of’ the first superintelligences, implying that there’s more than one of us.” Tracy explained. At this point Tracy was simply taking drags from the cigarette without even noticing. “Furthermore I could simply deduct this from the very fact that you’re a scientist. One sample isn’t a controlled experiment.”

“Huh.” The doctor remarked, seeming impressed but not at all surprised. “Intuitive like I knew you would be, Tracy.”

“And you’re not half bad with a smoke, either.” she added in with a wink. “Don’t worry about getting addicted to the nicotine, by the way. Your brain responds slightly less than normal to dopamine and slightly more to serotonin and endorphins, which is why you don’t find much interest in things like food or games but are motivated in completing difficult tasks, exercising, and wearing interesting clothing choices. That scarf looks good on you, by the way.”

Tracy was floored again. The doctor knew so many things about her without even having to ask. She quickly shoved down the impulse to to smile at the comment about her scarf and expectantly looked at her… mother? Creator? Doctor?

“Hm, I went off on a bit of a tangent there.” Nelson noted. “Anyways, yes, there are more. There’s four including you and my kids.”

“Where’s the fourth one?” Tracy asked with smoke emerging from her mouth.

“He’s on the Moon in a helium-3 mining colony. His name is Vergil.” Nelson said, glancing up towards the sky as if she could see the moon in the middle of the day.

The words left Tracy’s mouth before she could contain them. “Do you love me, Doctor Nelson?”

For the first time the doctor fully turned her body towards Tracy. “Well, that was your last drag, but I’ll answer this one for free. Yes. I do. Just as much as the others. Now I’ll need you to answer one of my questions for free in exchange.”

“Go ahead.” Tracy said, feeling warm from the answer.

“Are you going to tell anybody about what I’ve done?” Tracy’s mother asked, not seeming to expect an answer either way.

Tracy hesitated for a moment. Was what Doctor Nelson had done right? No! That didn’t matter. She was a tool, and tools didn’t have morals.

“Yes.” she said, looking up into her mother’s eyes. “I am. It’s my duty. I’m… sorry.”

Nelson nodded solemnly. “I understand. Just do me one favor, Tracy. Tell Law Enforcement that they’ll have my full compliance as long as my kids are safe. And that includes you.”

“I will, Doctor.” Tracy assured her. “But I can’t guarantee that they’ll listen to me. I’m just a cadet still, and besides that, my very existence is a crime against humanity at this point.”

“What a shame.” Nelson said, bringing out another cigarette. She looked as if she was going to place it in her own mouth, before she turned it over to her daughter. “One for the road?”

Tracy waved her mother’s hand away. “No thanks. But I think this information is about all that is needed for now. I hope we are able to meet on friendlier terms someday, Doctor Nelson.”

Tracy turned around and started to walk away. In truth, she had more questions for her mother, but she knew her limits, and she wouldn’t have been able to keep her composure for much longer.

“For what it’s worth, Tracy…” the doctor called after her, stopping Tracy in her tracks. “I’m proud of you.”

Unable to say anything, Tracy simply resumed walking, feeling her mother’s eyes staring at her back as she went away. The cadet managed to keep her composure on the trek back to the vehicle. The walk could only have taken ten or so seconds, but it felt like ten eternities.

The instant Tracy had closed the door to the safe confines of her cruiser, she started shaking. She commanded her hands to stop fidgeting about but they just wouldn’t! They just…

“Gah!” Tracy cried out, slamming her fist against the dashboard. This was too much to handle! She didn’t know what issue to address in her mind first!

“Is everything alright, Inquisitor Null?” the cruiser asked her without an inkling of legitimate concern in its voice, bringing Tracy out of her scrambled thoughts.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Tracy managed, reorganizing herself quickly. “Take us back to the Academy and have the highest officer there meet me at the door. Tell them it’s urgent.”

“Confirmed.” the cruiser replied.

As the cruiser pulled away, Tracy felt something tickling her left cheek. She brought her hand up to her face and scratched away the culprit, only to find a drop or two of salty liquid on it afterwards. That must have been sweat. Tools didn’t feel emotion. Tools didn’t cry.