12 Steps - Ch. 4

<– Chapter 3 / Chapter 5 –>

Another phone call at just after three. He answered on the third ring.

“Is this Mr. Ray–uh. . .” The sound of shuffling papers.

“Yes.”

The voice brightened perceptibly, strapped on a mask of friendliness. “My name is John Donovan. I’m an attorney representing the family of Donald Ackerman. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”

“It’s not late for me.”

A laugh, intended to sound nervous or flustered. To Ray, it only sounded false. “That’s right, of course. Only late for me. Do you mind if I tape record this conversation?”

Smooth segue, meant to catch him off guard, startle him into acceptance.

“Yes, I do mind. Can I help you?” You fucking bastard.

John Donovan paused on his end of the line. Ray imagined him reaching for a legal pad upon which to take notes (just as he was supposed to imagine), though, of course, the tape recorder was still running.

“Um, I was wondering if I could get some information?”

“Sir, federal law prohibits me from acknowledging either to confirm or deny the presence of the individual of whom you have spoken or his participation in our program.”

Ray grinned.

12 Steps - Ch. 3

<– Chapter 2 / Chapter 4 –>

The parking lot for the Center for Addictions Treatment was in the back of the building, as was the front door. The entrance opened on the only addition to the original farmhouse, a smallish room where the receptionist sat at one of two desks. The area was called the secretarial pod. The entrance to Ray’s office, both medication and technician area, was right behind the secretary’s desk. To the left was another door, kept closed, which led down the hallway to the client sleeping rooms, the dining room and the kitchen.

There was a phone right inside the front door (or the back door, depending upon who you asked). When Ray wanted to smoke, he would lean out the front door, propping it open with his back in such a way that he could see down the hallway if he propped that door open as well and answer the phone should it ring. Smoking was prohibited inside the building, a policy which grew increasingly unpopular with both the staff and the clients as the course of the year wore on. By December, Ray would have to do weekly fire drills around three a.m. as a way of politely reminding his anti-social and policy impaired population that any building more than a century old was actually little more than well formed kindling. After enough of those, any problem he had been having with people smoking in the building usually went away. Given the right incentives, even this population could be relatively self-regulating.

The telephone rang before Ray was even half-finished with his cigarette.

“Admit it now, Ray.” She sounded petulant.

“Fine, I admit it. Do I get the booby prize?”

“That depends on whether you intended a double entendre or not.”

“Of course I did.”

“Then you lose. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

He took a drag on his cigarette, then made himself sound insulted.”I’m not the one sitting around naked and calling strange men in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not naked.”

“Oh, I forgot. Panties.”

“And socks and bathrobe now, thank you very much.”

“Extortionist! You led me to believe we were still having an honest conversation predicated on the fact of your nudity. I take it all back.”

“We’re on the phone. I’m allowed to lie.”

Hung in his own noose. He liked that. It pleased him to be caught by her in such a way.

She continued.”So what happened this morning? Everyone said you had a meeting, but no one’s talking about details. You know how I love mysteries.”

12 Steps - Ch. 2

<– Chapter 1 / Chapter 3 –>

“My personal life is a mess, Ray,” she began. She sounded as though she was confiding a secret.

He said, “Okay.”

“No, really. Do you have time to talk?”

Like he had anything else. “You haven’t told him yet.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Ray! I don’t want to get into it. I don’t think I’m up to it.”

“If you put some clothes on, you’d feel more competent.”

She laughed. “It drives you crazy to talk to me when I’m naked, doesn’t it? What’s the matter? Is it too honest? Or does your own clothing make you feel inhibited? Are you secretly a closet nudist waiting to be exposed?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then you’re jealous. It’s not that I’m naked, but naked with a strange man in my house. We could be doing it right now while I’m talking to you. That turns you on, doesn’t it? Turns you on and repels you at the same time.”

12 Steps - Ch. 1

<– Prologue / Chapter 2 –>

In his lifetime, Ray had done a number of things for which he was not proud, things he’d like to see just as well stuffed down a dark hole. Everybody had things of which they were ashamed. Everybody has committed their share of sins that they wish they could take back. But this wasn’t one of them, and he resented the implication that it was—the implication that someone would dare to judge him for something they did not fully understand.

It was a good thing, a right thing, like the time he had given emergency CPR to the woman already ten minutes dead and gone, the woman whose mouth tasted of chocolate death and scrambled eggs, just to spare her horrified children the sense of helplessness while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. That had been a noble thing like this one was. Should have been.

Perhaps it was always less difficult to have things fail here, with the living, than it was with the dead. The dead had no opinions, no agendas. They weren’t sensitive. The dead did what you fucking told them to do and didn’t complain. Right?

The living simply did not understand that there were rules. They didn’t want to understand something so banal. Someone who didn’t take the time to understand the rules had no right to pass judgment on him. Not that it ever stopped them.

“I hear that you are unhappy,” he said into the phone, then had to pull the receiver away from his ear so the woman on the other end could scream at him some more.

12 Steps - Prologue

Chapter 1 –>

Rain, the young man is thinking. Of course it would be raining. Not a heavy, cleansing rain that leaves the streets steaming and the neatly sculptured yards lush and fragrant. This is a gray drizzling rain. A rain that makes him think of places like England and Scotland as they appear in those disturbing late night films on cable, the ones in black and white that weren’t particularly memorable when they were made and are even less so now.

Still, it rains and the air is cool. All he has to shelter him is a think nylon jacket. The jacket is soaked. It feels both chilly and coarse against his skin. His hair hangs in flat and sodden wings, falling into his eyes. It’s long in the back, almost to his shoulders, and he thinks that the cars that pass him on the street, the occupants of those cars, might look at him and see only that he is wet and not that he is dirty as well. Can they tell that his hair has been unwashed for days?That his clothes are the same ones he’s worn for more than a week?It doesn’t matter. He’s invisible to them as soon as they pass, taking any assumptions they might make with them. They might just mistake him for one of those hoity-toity college kids, one of those clean limbed and beaming have’s who has happened to find himself caught out without his umbrella.

He makes a desultory attempt to straighten his shoulders, to lift his eyes from the buckled sidewalk. To look like he might have a purpose or a destination. It doesn’t help. He has become the day. He has internalized the environment. He did that years ago, in fact.

That’s all I can do.

Not his words, of course, but he understands them. He is intimately acquainted with his limitations.

His entire body is telling him about his limitations right now. His stomach roils on acid and nothing else. He doesn’t remember the last time he ate, but if his guts have their way, he’ll offer what little may be left to the street before long. He walks with his hands crammed deep into the pockets of his blue jeans. If he pulls them out, they’ll only shake like the hands of one of those fucking retard kids Jerry Lewis was always putting on television. There’s more. His aching head. His shoulders and elbows and his goddamned knees that all feel like the joints have been rapped with a hammer.

That commercial:this is your brain on drugs. Fuck. They should talk about your body on drugs. That would have been something like a deterrent.

He shuffles along in his tired clothing, with his greasy hair and his palsied hands and his plugged up ass. Oh, he hadn’t mentioned that one in a while. Not just constipation, the doctors said, but chronic constipation, and for it they gave you these little brown butt nuggets. Suppositories. Shove this up your ass, they tell you. Shove this up your ass and in a couple of days, you’ll be regular again.

How ‘bout you shove it up your ass?That’s what he wanted to say, always wanted to say but somehow never did. Shove it all up your ass, doc. Everything you’ve got to say and offer. It doesn’t help. None of it fucking helped.

I can be angry too, he thinks. Angry and disappointed and disillusioned. Except he isn’t. Anger implies the capacity to feel, and he doesn’t really have that anymore, not in any way he can identify. That’s how it all begins, this life, this desperation. An attempt to feel, or an attempt to stop feeling. He can’t say for certain. He no longer remembers, and the ghosts of his past are at rest. They don’t call out from their graves.

Somehow, he’s managed to reach downtown. This is disorienting. Turn right and fifteen blocks to the hospital. That might have been his plan when he started, for lack of a better plan, anyway. It was all he could do. It wasn’t working out that way.

He can see the courthouse, it’s bronze dome a shadow in the misting rain. Morning, not yet eight, and the sidewalks are barren places. He is alone in a city that would seem devoid of life except for the constant rumble and hum and scudding of cars as they pass. He peers at shop windows. A second hand bookshop on the corner. A high end sporting goods store with a kayak lurched at an unnatural angle behind the glass. A trendy women’s clothing shop blatantly, obscenely targeting the eighteen and nineteen year old somebodies from the campus.

But he keeps coming back to the kayak. A fucking kayak!As if this wasn’t God-fucking Indiana!This feels important to him somehow. And impenetrable. It’s a symbol in a message encrypted beyond his understanding.

I’m hungry. I’m angry. I’m tired. Most of all, I’m tired. I don’t get the kayak.

His shoulders sag and he no longer cares what he may seem to be. He doesn’t know the people who pass, who might pass judgments on him. They don’t get it, either. It’s beyond their understanding.

He steps back from the store’s display. One step, two. He totters with his heels hanging over the sidewalk’s edge. His balance is precarious, not something he could maintain for long if he wanted to. He closes his eyes and he draws into his lungs the odor of a damp city. He swivels his head on the glassy joints of his neck, as though peering back the way he has come.

He opens his eyes. He sees what he wants to see. He doesn’t so much fall back as he steps away.

From the kayak, he thinks. Always from the kayak.

It’s a city bus, large and hulking and green. The windshield is flat and tall, and he can see the driver, a nondescript and burly man. Burly in the way all bus drivers seem to be burly. He is poorly shaven. His skin is sallow. His eyes dark and small beneath a black buttress of Italian eyebrows. His mouth is small as well, probably not always, because a good bus driver needs a good mouth on him. But small now because it’s sucked his lips into a pinhole O of surprise. Something unanticipated.

The bus seems very large now, just as the mouth is very small, becoming smaller by the moment.

Shush, shush, the tires say, unheeded by the wet pavement.

I don’t get the kayak. Not at all.

The bus looms, becomes massive, grows to fill the universe.

And that, he thinks, that is all I can do.

Chapter 1 –>

Interlude: Transitional Administrivia

In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s now a tab at the top of the site for the newly created archive blog for Agnosis.  As of late last night (or early this morning, I forget which), the last chapter of that novel has been posted.

I hope you enjoyed it.  Or will enjoy it if you’re reading on the archive site.

What that means is that I’m updating the sidebar on the left to include download links for the next project, 12 Steps.  This has already been discussed in an earlier post, so if you missed it, shame on you.  It was very moving, and I’m still feeling rather emotional about it.  Volunteers to hold me through this difficult time should apply via e-mail with a photo.

So, expect some changes over the next couple of days as I do away with the Agnosis chapter navigation and get my document formats set up for easy sharing and posting.

I’m both excited and terrified about posting 12 Steps.  By the end, you’ll know way more about how my personal psychology works than I ever wanted anyone to know.

Agnosis - Ch. 28

<– Chapter 27

John Dorian is weary.Weary unto death, and growing sleepier by the moment.His eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open.They’ve grown unreasonably heavy.He is reminded that it is the same physical motion by which he used to access the Strand, the virtual universe within the real, the angels dancing on the heads of a billion billion pins.He knows that then, in those distant, increasingly grey and fuzzy days, the flutter took him from a waking world to a sleeping one, a world of dreams rather than a world of substance, a world where a man could pretend to be anything he chose to be instead of the small, fragile beast he truly was.

He has always known this.It is not a deathbed epiphany.Every man wants to control the world he inhabits and make that creation reflect his own glory, to restrict the flow of information so that the message transmitted is the truth he has devised rather than the truth that he cannot bear to face.The Strand is merely a tool that enables him to dream a reality delimited only by the reach of his creativity.No different than a movie camera, a paint brush or a typewriter.

What all of these tools share in common is that each is designed to facilitate the communication of a singular piece of coherent information between artist and audience, to convey a meaningful vision that trickles into the universal meme pool and eventually becomes indistinguishable from immortality.Communication is about immortality.Everyone wants to be remembered.To be remembered, one must make a lasting impression upon others, one must impregnate the local social pleroma with information, and that information must be known by others, grafted upon their consciousness, become part of who they are and how they see the world.

Agnosis - Ch. 27

<– Chapter 26 / Chapter 28 –>

Raville’s laboratory occupied the entire second floor of an unremarkable square building set indiscriminately amongst the jumbled maze of other non-descript structures that made up the station’s industrial research park. Upon initial inspection, it was not the sort of space one would envision when asked to develop a mental picture of the site most likely to provide the future salvation of the human race from alien invaders. It was crowded, for one thing. Not much room for dorky geniuses in white coats to exchange Eureka’s and congratulatory slaps on the back. For another, it was frequently dirty. Not a grimy sort of dirty, just chronically unkempt in much the same way that brilliant and preoccupied professors tended to neglect to brush their hair and scrub their faces.

But what was immediately evident above all was that it had recently been a place of great, humming activity, a space devoted to hard work and tremblingly clever breakthroughs and many sighs of relief that the work had now been completed and was ready to be put to the test.

Toward the entrance were several compact and independent flexsteel and plastiglass chambers shaped like old fashioned diving bells. Though each individual structure was not large, hardly big enough for one person to work inside comfortably, together with its assorted venting tubes, power generators and filtered air exchangers, the small forest which they comprised occupied a considerable amount of real estate. These chambers were, in fact, isolated nanotech development laboratories, mechanical hot zones where the tedious iterative task of designing, programming and assembling new species of self-adaptive and self-sustaining nanomech function colonies occurred. Inside, workers wore dense protective gear, and the environment was cycled ruthlessly through cleaning protocols to protect against the accidental release of a malformed but nevertheless infinitely replicatable advanced scout units. The devlabs were as lethally perilous in their own way as their more common viral research counterparts.

Agnosis - Ch. 26

<– Chapter 25 / Chapter 27 –>

They shuttled back down to the Giari Tau station within the hour, accompanied by an escort of willing Marines led by Lieutenant Sainz.The Misfit Toys were enticed to come along, though it was not a decision made without reservations, many of which Dorian assumed had something to do with leaving the bomb unattended after they’d gone through so much to locate it.But Amara spoke to Ray privately, and whatever she said to him provided all the reassurance he needed.

The shuttle was small and crowded with so many passengers—they’d had to leave most of the Marines behind on the flight deck, and even then most of them had refused to disperse until Amara ordered that the loading ramp be lowered so that she could stand at the opening to the airframe and wave to them.The soldiers had watched her with bright eyes and broad smiles on their lips, not even understanding the emotions that had overtaken them, just pleased to have been in her presence.

Dorian spent the whole episode expecting them to start throwing their underwear into the doorway.

Interlude: The Synopsis - How Not to Do It

I was recently asked to prepare a chapter-by-chapter synopsis of Agnosis for a deal that ultimately fell through over novel length and money (meaning, the publisher quite correctly determined that the book was too long to market effectively in a way that would insure a decent return on their investment). Being of a rather pessimistic bent, this was the outcome that I expected from the beginning due to market realities, so it colored the way in which I prepared the synopsis.

For what it’s worth, the synopsis plus sample chapters got me a complete manuscript request, and ultimately a review before the editorial board. Though that may not be completely accurate. Getting that far had much more to do with connecting with an editor who genuinely seemed to like the novel…and as most writers know, making that connection is both the hardest and the most essential part. I believe the editor was more upset than I was when the rejection came down.

Anyway, I offer this purely for your edification. Do not confuse it with a tutorial.

WARNING: If you’re reading Agnosis serially (rather than downloading the full text)…though I can’t imagine why you would…the rest of this post contains spoilers.

Chapter 1

In which we meet John Dorian and Amara Cain, tech employees of the Masonic Archive Infocache, a personality/personal data digital archive. Dorian, the resident IT dork and erstwhile systems hacker, tracks and eliminates a data spider that has infiltrated the Infocache. Amara, perky office mate, shows off her spiffy grrl-power physical avatar.

Chapter 2

In which Dorian disassembles the data spider and realizes that it originated from within the Infocache’s network. Dorian begins to suspect that the spider has been at work for a very long time, stealing data from the Archive and bouncing it to points unkown. Worse, the spider may have originated with Michael Raville, creator of the Zap technology — instant site to site matter transfer — which had revolutionized human history. Dorian invites Amara to go for take out. And dinner at his place. (Wink, wink.)

Chapter 3

In which Dorian and Amara explore his apartment, view their city (Sonali Real), discuss technological developments and Michael Raville. Dorian manages not to sleep with Amara, mostly because he’s a huge dork. We also meet Dorian’s cat, who does.

Chapter 4

In which Dorian researches Michael Raville via the Strand — the post-Internet, fully emersive data universe — and gradually comes to the shocking realization that the spider was not bouncing data outside of the network, but seeding data into it. Dorian learns that the Archive hosts Michael Raville’s original personality inventory, realizes that the inventory has somewhat nefariously copied itself, and the copy has achieved consciousness. Dorian freaks out a bit about this before deciding to “geek” into the copied data stash and have a look at what the spider and/or the sentient copy of Michael Raville have been doing with themselves for the last forty years. Amara convinces him to let her come along.

Chapter 5

In which Dorian and Amara explore the virtual rendering of Michael Raville’s memory palace — the 3D world the digitized personality AI has been “living” in. Lots of random marvelling at Raville’s ingenuity. Eventually, they meet the sentient AI package himself.

Chapter 6

In which Raville acts like a charming asshole, flirts with Amara and explains that the universe is about to be destroyed unless Dorian and Amara intervene on his behalf. Dorian reacts skeptically. Raville reveals that Zap technology was not so much discovered as gifted to him by a semi-divine alien race called the Exousiai, whose ultimate goal was to free humanity from the shackles of biology and into a deathless eternity as pure thought and energy. Raville believes that the still-living version of himself (i.e., flesh and blood Michael Raville) has betrayed the vision of the Exousiai and is preparing to start a war from a scientific/military installation on Giari Tau at outermost fringes of human exploration in order to prevent them from liberating humanity. Dorian remains skeptical.

Chapter 7

In which Raville scoffs at Dorian’s skepticism and explains that the real-Raville’s war on the Exousiai can only end with the complete and utter destruction of humanity and therefore MUST BE STOPPED(!!!). Amara is convinced, and before Dorian can intervene, accepts a virtual code package (rendered as a ball of glowing light) from Raville into her personal data storage. Raville calls it the quae-ha-distra — both a simulated experience of first contact with the Exousiai and a synaptic bridge for accessing a hyper-secret data archive where the real-Raville has stored everything known about the Exousiai, including a direct link to the thought/energy of the Exousiai themselves. Inside, he tells them, is the secret to stopping the war. Amara collapses into a semi-coma of data overload. Raville tells Dorian that in order to save her from imminent brain death as the quae-ha-distra code runs amok in her neural matrix, he will have to assist in Raville’s plan. Dorian is undertandably annoyed, but forced to comply.

Chapter 8

In which Dorian, back in the real world, cracks Amara’s private datascape and uses a special bit of code provided by Raville to disconnect her from the rampaging quae-ha-distra code that is remapping and reshaping her internal storage network. Amara awakens without damage. Dorian decides to take Amara home with him again because of her ordeal. Not (NOT) to sleep with her. Someone blows up Dorian’s apartment, but he and Amara (and the cat) narrowly escape. Based on this evidence, Dorian suspects that the real-Raville is somewhat pissed off about Amara having invaded the hyper-secret data archive via the quae-ha-distra.

Chapter 9

In which Dorian and Amara seek refuge with Dorian’s old military connections, Tyrus and Lily Danek. Tyrus, Lily and Dorian rub their heads together about Raville/real-Raville conundrum and about future plans now that the real-Raville seems to be trying to kill them. Amara produces the quae-ha-distra…in real space. The others are understadably baffled by the conversion from code to physical artifact. Later, Dorian shares some details of his traumatic personal history with Tyrus and Lily. It’s a bonding moment.

Chapter 10

In which Dorian, Amara and the Daneks ruminate on the meaning of the quae-ha-distra and what to do with Raville’s plans. Dorian advocates that they run and hide. Amara wants to help prevent the war and explore the future liberation the Exousiai seem to promise. Lily and Tyrus correctly point out that they won’t know what to do until they have more information…which is only available inside the hyper-secret storage space that Raville has opened up to them by giving Amara the quae-ha-distra. Dorian dithers because of the danger inherent in connecting to the Strand network (i.e., that they can be identified and tracked by real-Raville’s agents).

Chapter 11

In which Dorian exercises a gigantic wad of geek gimcrackery to hide Amara from detection on the Strand and to map the contents of the quae-ha-distra’s dtascape. Amara bounces from the Strand to his personal data storage, and ultimately into the space opened by the quae-ha-distra to find the information Raville has promised will prevent war with the Exousiai. Dorian successfully evades their pursuers. Because yes, he is that good.

Chapter 12

In which Dorian guides Amara as she explores the new datascape and realizes belatedly that he isn’t nearly as good as he thought he was. Raville has tricked him. The code he used to crack Amara’s datascape (back in Chapter Eight) has been acting as a sort of quae-ha-distra in Dorian’s own datascape. Alone in the hostile data environment, Amara becomes lost, and Dorian has no alternative but to bounce into the quae-ha-distra datascape after her…where he discovers a perfectly rendered copy of Sonali Real. Dorian and Amara argue about whether this was Raville’s planning, or if their experience was being influenced by the god-like Exousiai.

Chapter 13

In which Dorian and Amara frolic in the virtual Sonali and eventually end up back at the Infocache, where they bounce to another datascape and experience the limitless freedom of the Exousiai. (Big bonding moment.) Amara is awed by her apparent first hand contact with the Exousian consciousness. Later, they find a render of an ancient temple where inside, they encounter a search index avatar in the form of Raville’s deceased wife. Amara is disillusioned by the apparent influence of the Exousiai being only code wizardry. Dorian tracks down the datacore Raville sent them to find.

Chapter 14

In which Dorian and Amara share a rendered vision of the raw quae-ha-distra dataverse as a semi-sentient blob of inky life. Dorian absorbs the data into his storage by eating it. This chapter is thick with metaphor and symbolism. THICK WITH METAPHOR, I TELL YOU!!!

Chapter 15

In which Dorian and Amara process what they’ve learned and compare notes. Amara has obtained a Zap address for the Giari Tau scientific installation on the edge of human space from which the real-Raville intends to launch the war against the Exousiai. Dorian figures out from the data he consumed how to manipulate the networked connections between the quae-ha-distra, the Strand and the Infocache (which should be theoretically impossible) and summons up Raville’s original datascape inside the Infocache. Raville is pleased and gushes about everything going according to plan. Amara is miffed because the entire quae-ha-distra experience was mediated code-illusion rather than actual contact with the Exousiai. Raville drops the bombshell that the whole purpose of revealing himself to them was because of Amara — because of his belief that Amara is an Exousiai forerunner enrolded in flesh and sent to finish the task of awakening humanity to their ultimate destiny. Only an awakened Amara, in full possession of her god-like powers could stop the war before it began. Dorian greets this information with typical curmudgeonly skepticism. But Amara believes.

Chapter 16

In which Dorian and Amara discover upon leaving the datascape behind that three days have passed, and in their “absence”, Tyrus and Lily’s house has been invaded by the infamous anarcho-techno-terrorist Ray Morrical and his band of Misfit Toys. Morrical is an old acquaintance of Dorian’s, and became aware of the troubles in Sonali Real through his network of data spies. The Misfit Toys have been protecting Dorian and Amara while they were abroad in the dataverse. Morrical has also been in contact with the virtual Raville and has been convinced that the real-Raville is up to no good, though he knows nothing of the Exousiai. Dorian and Amara choose to keep this information (and her emerging godhood) to themselves. Dorian, Amara and the Misfit Toys join forces to invade the scientific installation using the newly acquired Zap address.

Chapter 17

In which the whole crew travels aboard Morrical’s spacecraft, the Proletariat Horde, to put distance between themselves and Raville’s assassins in and around Sonali Real. They reason that the Zap depots on Dorian’s planet are likely to be under surveillance, and Morrical pulls some strings on a distant world to arrange safe entry to a depot from which they can Zap to the scientific installation on Giari Tau undetected (in theory). Dorian spends the transit time trying to hack the nastier bits of the datacore he has stolen from Raville. Amara begins to exhibit some alarming supernatural powers. Dorian reveals that he has some fuzzy and squishy feelings for Amara and that he’s less concerned about stopping the war than he is about just keeping Amara safe. He also worries that as she changes, when confronted with the Exousiai, she’ll leave.

In attacking the security on Raville’s datacore, Dorian discovers that the virtual-Raville has copied himself and hitched a ride in Dorian’s personal datascape. They have a deep conversation about Dorian’s role in helping Amara awaken. Dorian resists because he’s frightened of her alien-ness. Raville tells him he’s an idiot.

Dorian and Amara are summoned to the bridge because they’ve been tabbed by the real-Raville’s organization as cyberterrorists. Morrical threatens to withdraw his assistance and turn them over to the authorities unless he is given the complete truth. Amara reveals her true Exousian essence in rather spectacular fashion.

Chapter 18

In which Dorian continues to hack the datacore and finally succeeds, despite the fact that Amara informs him that knowing Raville’s secrets is no longer necessary. He chooses not to believe her. The Misfit Toys join the ranks of True Believers(tm) in Amara’s imminent godhood.

Chapter 19

In which Dorian, Amara and the Misfit Toys arrive at the Giari Tau depot, only to find that their arrival was detected, and they’ve been held in digital stasis for six months. They manage to fend off the initial assault and lock themselves in the station’s storage warehouse. Dorian has difficulty remembering what vital bits of information he gleaned from Raville’s datacore just before zapping to Giari Tau. Morrical arrays his crew to defend the warehouse against the installation’s security teams.

Chapter 20

In which the security forces stage their incursion, and brief/disastrous firefights ensue. Amara intervenes with her increasing powers and causes the Misfit Toys to vanish into thin air, which amazes the security folk more than a little. She and Dorian are taken into custody preparatory to an encounter with the living Michael Raville.

Chapter 21

In which Dorian and Amara are escorted to holding quarters and learn that the military starships Indianapolis and Juggernaut have arrived at Giari Tau to lead the assault on the Exousian entry point into human space. Amara impresses young Lieutenant Sainz, head of the security detail. Dorian sleeps and dreams the contents of Raville’s datacore, uncovering details that make him increasingly suspicious of the intentions of the Exousiai. Ultimately, Dorian and Amara are placed under the watchful eye of Ford Garrison, Michael Raville’s Chief of Staff. Dorian manages to irritate him extensively.

Chapter 22

In which Dorian dreams the contents of the datacore again and a dream Michael Raville reinterprets what he has learned to this point in light of later knowledge to explain his opposition to the plans of the Exousiai. Specifically, that the future of the Exousiai is a future of oneness, of complete cultural unity. Raville has discovered that he would rather be free. Complete unity is too high a price to pay for eternal life. The Exousiai absorb the species that are awakened. Michael Raville, the human man, is not completely human at all. He is like Amara — an Exousiai wrapped in human form — sent to unveil the transforming technology of Zap, which would psychologically prepare humanity to cast off the bonds of flesh. This is a truth he learned only after the copy of himself from the Infocache had been created.

Dorian shares this information with Amara, but she rejects his interpretation. She refuses to believe that the Exousiai have anything but pure motives.

Chapter 23

In which Ray Morrical, now bearing the sentient copy of Michael Raville, and the Misfit Toys infiltrate the starship Indianapolis in order to locate and destroy the weapon the real-Raville has prepared against the Exousiai. The Misfit Toys locate the weapon (which appears to be a massive disappointment) and take control of the flight deck where it is housed. And Ray Morrical discovers at the critical moment where he must decide what to do with it that Michael Raville has cut him off from the datascape and vanished into the ship’s network system.

Chapter 24

In which Dorian and Amara meet face to face with Michael Raville and his advisors. Raville reveals more of the Exousian truth, essentially that the Exousiai absorb new species in an attempt to fend off cultural entropy. Factions within the “overmind” have developed which argue for devolution from a state of oneness in order to allow for more autonomy rather than absorption as the key to the Exousian future. Raville believes that the plan of the Exousiai must be thwarted for their own good, as well as for humanity’s survival. The down side is that only integration with Amara’s special qualities will allow the viral bomb that will break the oneness of the Exousiai to be absorbed, and there’s a significant risk that the Exousian entity will be destroyed. To save humanity, Amara has to be re-absorbed into the Exousian entity.

Amara agrees to sacrifice herself.

Simultaneously, Raville learns about the Misfit Toys’ assault on the Indianapolis, their possession of the weapon that will transfer Amara to Exousian space, and the even greater threat that the digital copy of Michael Raville has taken control of the ship’s control system. Raville has, in fact, used those controls to cripple the Juggernaut, and is in the process of turning the weapons’ systems against the Giari Tau station. Appropriate chaos ensues.

Chapter 25

In which Dorian and Amara are reunited with the Misfit Toys aboard the Indianapolis, with the real-Raville in tow. The code-Raville has locked himself in the starship’s datacore, and forces are scrambled to get Dorian and the real-Raville down to the datacore where they can manually override the code-Raville’s attack before he can destroy the station and the Ultimate Weapon(tm). Working together, Dorian and Raville countermand the threat and regain control of the Indianapolis.

The code-Raville somehow manages to escape.

Chapter 26

In which Dorian and Amara spend the night together, pondering her imminent demise as she returns to the Exousiai. Dorian grieves. Amara informs him of her secret plan. Simply: that Dorian will come with her into the Exousian entity, enfolded in her essence, as part of the bomb. Inside her data structure, he would retain sentience. He could, in essence, hack an entire universe so that the Exousian entity would not be destroyed, but gently weaned away from unity by the gentle introduction of autonomous elements. Both species could be saved.

Dorian agrees.

Chapter 27

In which Dorian and Amara are packaged into a special Zap chamber that will enfold their digital essences and transfer them to the warhead of the Ultimate Weapon(tm). They make their goodbyes to the Misfit Toys.

Chapter 28

In which Dorian and Amara, held in an eternal embrace, allow themselves to be euthanized into a life of pure digital consciousness that will save the entire universe. It isn’t as sad as it sounds.