Stones: Theory (Stones #4) (49 page)

“U
pdate me on the status of the implant campaign.” Ryzaard relaxes on his meditation cushion, arms down at his side, and gazes into the holo of Jing-wei floating at eye level.

Jing-wei’s eyes go to the slate in her hands. “In the last two weeks, we’ve placed two billion units.”

Ryzaard’s eyes focus wide. The Brooklyn Bridge divides into two images. “And the projected date of completion?”

“The fabrication process is growing on an exponential scale. We’ll have twenty billion units, equal to the current population of the planet, in ten more days.” Jing-wei takes a deep inhale and a long exhale. “Demand for the units is still intense and patience among the populace is running low. But, thanks to the efforts of Miyazawa, the initial riots have been quelled. The Shinto faithful worldwide have been assured that implants will be distributed as soon as available. We foresee no difficulties or resistance at this time.”

Ryzaard draws his focus to an invisible point in mid-air two feet from his nose. “Any indications that our enemies are trying to penetrate the Mesh?”

The view of the holo changes to Kalani, squatting down on his haunches on the top of his desk, staring at Ryzaard. “We run ID protocols on all new entrants into the Mesh. Standard procedure. As expected, we’ve detected some minor penetration by crime orgs. Mostly Brazilian mafia and Japanese Yakuza. We flag their credentials and monitor their actions.” He leans back and stretches his neck like a cat. “Their access can be shut down at any time. Would you like us to?”

Serenity moves across Ryzaard’s forehead. “That won’t be necessary. Invite them into the Mesh with open arms.” The muscles in his lower back unwind and relax, strand by strand. “Allow them free rein for the time being. Pull them all in so we can deal with them later. Continue to monitor Mesh traffic and update me on anything suspicious.”

Kalani’s body fades from the holo.

“Jerek,” Ryzaard says.

Jerek’s face and upper torso materializes in the holo. “Yes, Dr. Ryzaard. What can I do for you?” As he speaks, his body glistens with sweat, and he does pull-ups on a bar over his head.

“I’m glad to see you’ve found time to relax.” Ryzaard arches his back and twists his neck from side to side.

“It’s been an intense couple of weeks, but the implant fabrication process is on track to complete in ten days.”

Ryzaard nods. “So I’ve heard. Excellent work.” The Stones floating above his chest light up with a low purple glow. “Any attacks on any of the manufacturing facilities? Any attempts to stop the process?”

Jerek speaks without taking a break from his pull-ups. “Nothing other than the usual opposition to the building of new plants along the coastline.” His chin rises above the bar, and he looks at Ryzaard. “But we’ve made appropriate payments to the local governments and secured all the necessary permits. Do you have any concerns?”

“None in particular,” Ryzaard says. “I just want to be sure there’s no organized opposition against us, particularly from our known enemies, as we near the finish line.”

Jerek stops and takes a deep breath. “We’ll beef up security, just to be safe. Anything else?”

“Switch me over to Diego.”

“Will do.”

The holo fades to white before a 3D view of Diego’s face comes into high relief.

“Diego,” Ryzaard says. “Any blips on the Stone location algorithm? Any indications as to where our three renegade friends may be?”

“Nothing. Complete silence.” Diego leans forward with his hands on a bluescreen. “I’ve got four cluster systems devoted to satellite reconnaissance and analysis of all surveillance camera feeds
on the planet
. If they step foot inside a city, we’ll know it, but so far it looks like they’re avoiding urban areas and public gatherings.”

“No need for concern.” Ryzaard’s body floats two inches above the meditation cushion. “Our position grows stronger each day. Unless they’ve given up entirely, which is possible, they will have to show themselves, eventually. Keep looking.”

“Anything else?”

Ryzaard’s hands come together, thumb tips just touching. “One more question. What’s the latest on the freedom camps, or what’s left of them?”

Diego turns to his right, so his face is in full profile. “That’s Jing-wei’s area of expertise. I’ll switch you back to her.”

“Thank you.”

Jing-wei’s face materializes, momentarily occupying the same space as Diego’s, and Ryzaard smiles at the mixed features.

“You had a question about the freedom camps?” Jing-wei turns back from her left and stares ahead.

“Bring me up to date.” Ryzaard’s breath slowly moves in and out of his lower abdomen as he stares ahead through the semi-transparent image of Jing-wei.

“A few freedom camps were liquidated by our security forces some time ago, resulting in high casualty rates worldwide. All Mesh reports were suppressed.” She blinks and looks down at her slate. “Soon after, all remaining freedom camps were voluntarily disbanded. A loose organization still exists, and they still abhor technology of any kind. They even have a special word for it.
Abomination
. They don’t carry jaxes. They stay away from the Mesh. And now they’re thinly spread out in both rural and urban areas. A very difficult target.”

“How are they communicating with each other?”

“We assume it’s word of mouth.” Jing-wei’s finger reaches up to brush the blue jewel behind her ear. “To be honest, we’re not sure. A few of them may have unregistered jaxes. They seem to have access to a network of fake IDs, enabling movement between countries.”

“Have you had any more luck with infiltrators or informers?”

Jing-wei looks up. “The short answer is no. The Children no longer recruit or accept new members.”

Ryzaard’s eyebrows jump up. “The
Children
?”

“The people of the old freedom camps call themselves the
Children
.”

“Children of what?”

“We don’t know.” Jing-wei’s holo shifts from left to right. “Since the last attacks on their camps, they’ve become more closed. They no longer openly discuss their views or advertise their presence or their ideology. They’ve been instructed to melt into society, in many cases taking jobs and working in companies alongside their non-Children peers.” She leans closer to Ryzaard. “They seem to be hunkering down. Focusing on survival.”

“No matter. When we reach 99.9% saturation, it will be clear enough who the Children are.” Ryzaard lets his mind recede into the Stones as he moves away. His words fade like whispers in a thunderstorm. “Then we will deal with them directly.”

Without listening for a reply from Jing-wei, he thinks of deep space where the control node is a glossy blue sphere floating above the planetary network. As its image passes through his mind, he’s already floating in darkness looking down at it. His palm goes onto its surface, and he marvels at the massive machine below him, an entire planet turned into a computing device, an instrument of domination.

The Lethonen discovered it. Jhata took it from them. And now it’s his.

Whoever built it in the first place must be the possessor of awesome power.

He clothes his body in a thin skin of green plasma for protection, grips a Stone from his chest and lets his mind flow through the sphere into the network.

Following the familiar path of its circuitry, he experiences multiple paths with simultaneous clarity.

Ryzaard thinks of the Mesh, and his mind leaps to it through the implant.

Traffic in the Mesh is heavier than before. Popular public Mesh-points are filled with surging crowds, many of them inside the Mesh for the first time. The general feeling of euphoria is palpable and contagious.

Changes abound.

Upon first entering the Mesh, a new traveler is assigned a default avatar based on a complex of biometric data and bearing a close, if stylized, resemblance to the real-life person. A tall, thin, Asian female in the real world will look tall, thin, Asian and female inside the Mesh.

But things are changing. Avatars are being customized in novel ways.

Non-humanoid life forms are proliferating, with dinosaurs, snakes and butterflies being the most popular. Ryzaard notices other subtle modifications. Many avatars look like the latest movie idol or sports superstar. The culture of the outside world is already invading the Mesh.

Ryzaard smiles to himself as he walks through a zero gravity stadium of bodies chiseled to perfection, all watching a game of 3D soccer.

There is no harm in letting them run free for a few more days. In time, after he has taken over, the excesses will be done away with. Order will be restored.

The Mesh will become the instrument of control that it is meant to be.

Closing his eyes, he surveys the entire Mesh in his mind, seeing it spread out below him like a familiar painting, becoming part of him. He is drawn to the Mesh-points with the highest access numbers. One stands out above all others. Like a star pulling in meteorites, it draws him closer through sheer gravity.

Miyazawa’s shrine.

Jumping there, he walks like a ghost through the worshipping masses, under the torii gate and up to the platform to stand next to the Master Priest, invisible to all but himself. A ring of new cherry trees encircles the shrine, and they drop a continual stream of blossoms to the ground like a white lace curtain as Miyazawa teaches a discourse on the eventual unity of the human race with the
Kami
.

Ryzaard touches the Master Priest. As his fingers make contact with the heavy white robes, he enters without resistance into Miyazawa’s mind. A chaos of multiple voices, hundreds or thousands of them, rush past him as if sprinting down a dark hall. They recede in the distance, but then stop, turn and come closer. As they approach, the voices grow quiet.

He senses a familiarity among them that is difficult to define.

The words that Miyazawa speaks to the crowd pass first through Ryzaard as packets of thought, and then out through the priest’s lips, like an echo.

I am the living Kami. I am the Way to Unity. The end of suffering. Join me and we will be One.

Leaving Miyazawa, Ryzaard returns to the crowd spreading out from the foot of the shrine steps. With the slightest touch, he enters their minds and hears their thoughts.

His fingers brush against a man kneeling on the bed of pearls.

Help me find an end to chronic darkness and depression. Show me the Way.

Ryzaard moves on and rubs against an old woman, her head bowed, her lips moving in a feverish chant.

You are the Kami. The source of unity. Take my pain and give me joy.

His eyes focus on the ocean of people that now extend to the foothills of the mountains on the far horizon. From the look of it, all of them have come seeking answers and healing. Ryzaard stretches out his arms, palms forward, and walks through them, absorbing their thoughts and emotions as effortlessly as one tasting a thousand flavors of ice cream.

Their voices flow through him, a torrent of need and emptiness.

Bring back my wife.

Show me how to love my son.

Heal my sick child, my only daughter.

I spend all my money on derms. Help me to stop.

Give me strength to quit gambling on Mesh-games.

Help my son understand how much I love him.

I’ve been away so long. I want to go home.

Take this pain from my heart.

Where is the truth?

Why am I here?

For a long time, he walks through the throng in a drunken stupor, feasting on an endless sea of pain and suffering. Exhaustion overcomes him until finally he can take no more and drops to the ground, still only a fraction of the way into the gathered masses. Looking up, the distant summit of a mountain draws his attention. He instantly transports himself there.

An entire plane of virtual humanity spreads out below. Their pain is palpable. Left on their own, they will only continue to swim in a world of endless suffering.

Ryzaard has the cure.

Be patient. It won’t be long before I free you from your misery.