There's Only One Quantum (13 page)

Fourteen.

A new reality awaits you in New Eden...where all of your dreams and realities come true. New Eden is currently accepting new applications. Join us in paradise, join us in praise—join us in oneness with the Creator, the all-benevolent being, the...

“Nice work,” Tate said as Coe passed him in the hall. “Did you take out Davvy? Please tell me you landed the kill-shot on that miserable bitch—”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Coe said, stumbling toward the elevators.

“Well, anyway. It’s a much-needed shake-up in Auditing,” Tate remarked. “You’ll probably get Lyme’s old position for blowing the lid off of—hey? Where you going?”

Coe ignored him. A mobile unit drove past with the last of the bodies. He pressed the down button for the elevator.

“Remember us little guys,” Tate said. “Remember: I took you out and showed you a good time with you being a new guy and all...”

The elevator bell sounded—or a tone rather than a bell. The doors slid open. Carmen sat perched on her stool. “Good day, Mr. Coe,” she said.

It no longer surprised him. He stepped in and she closed the door.

“Going down?” she said.

Coe hesitated. “Forty-five,” he said.

“Excellent choice.”

The elevator started with a lurch.

Your advertisement here! Increase traffic to your site!

Increased traffic = increased revenue.

Who reads advertisements? YOU just did!

Call 555-1212 to reserve your space...slots going fast. Don’t wait!

“How do you fit in all of this?” Coe asked her.

Carmen, sitting on her stool, legs crossed—foot swinging—simply smiled.

“You’re not going to become coy now, are you?”

She held out her hands, palms up, and gestured to him. Cautiously, he lay his hands, palms down, over hers.

“I like you,” she said. “You were everything we could have hoped for...you really are. You played the game very well.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I’ve said too much.”

“Too much?” He pulled his hands away from hers. “I want to know what the hell is going on. What is all of this about? I think I’m owed that much—”

The elevator came to an abrupt halt. Coe fell back against the elevator wall. He realized he could not determine if they had been going up or down.

“We’re here,” she said. “Forty-five.”

“Forty-five?”

“That’s right.” She stood, embraced him. “This has really been thrilling. It really has. You just can’t understand what a unique and wonderful experience I’ve had.”

“You’re not coming?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve got to get back.”

“Back?”

She kissed him on the mouth. “Good bye, Mr. Coe. I’ve loved every moment getting to know you. I look forward to following your progress.”

“My progress?”

She opened the doors. “Good bye,” she said.

The elevator flooded with bright light.

“Go on now,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. You really couldn’t be any safer.”

Her voice faded.

“Carmen?”

She was gone; the elevator, too. He seemed to have no option but to step toward the light. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he found himself inside a spacious room, surrounded on all sides by windows. Immense sunlight was pouring through. He’d forgotten just how bright the sun could be. He became aware the entire room was white: white carpeting; white walls; and white drapes.

On the far end of the nearly empty room was a white desk. At the desk was seated a woman in a white pants suit. She had long, flowing blonde hair. She was busy working on something.

“Mr. Coe?” she said, without looking up.

Her voice was oddly familiar to him, but he was unable to place it.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

He looked toward the windows. All he could see was sky—endless, blue sky. He guessed the forty-fifth floor was somehow above the rain clouds and surmised the Quantum Building afforded some sort of additional space not accessible from the other floors.

Finally, she stood and turned. Her face, like her voice, was both familiar and unfamiliar to him. As she started to walk toward him, she said, “Sorry about that, Mr. Coe. Business seems to follow me everywhere.”

When she reached him, she extended her hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Coe.” She smiled warmly and said, “I’m Alice Seeley.”

“You’re the CEO...of Quantum,” he said.

He took her hand.

She stared at him, smiling. She seemed enchanted in some way—by his appearance, his presence. “I suppose you’ve got a lot of questions?”

He could immediately think of only one. “Are you responsible for what’s happened to me? This frame up?”

“Yes,” she said. “And...no.”

“And I thought I was finally going to get an answer.”

“You’re right, Mr. Coe,” she said. “You deserve that. You have to forgive me. This is all...unique.”

“Unique?”

“What have you been told of A.I.?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“It’s quite all right. Why would they have included that?” She was smiling again. “Please forgive me,” she said. “But I must say, you are quite remarkable.”

“A.I.,” he said.

“Artificial intelligence—”

“Like CRTs or cell-bots?”

“Yes,” she said. “But much, much more sophisticated.”

“What does this have to do with—”

“Bear with me,” she said. “Let’s walk.”

“Where?”

Suddenly, the room was gone, replaced by a pleasant, blooming garden. They were walking along a brick walkway.

“How did you—”

“It’s okay,” she said, touching his arm. “I’ll explain.”

He was quite disoriented now.

“When I was a little girl,” she said. “I was taken—abducted—from a shopping mall. There was a ransom—an exorbitant amount, that my mother, on her retail wage, was unable to meet. The case made national headlines at that time. If the ransom demand was not met, my captors made it clear I would be killed. I should say I have no recollections of any of this. Though I was nine, I have apparently repressed it in my subconscious. Some day, maybe, I’ll be brave enough to explore those memories.

“As I said, the story made headlines. My situation was brought to the attention of a Mr. Copley—”

“Copley is the man who recommended me for the auditor position,” he said.

She smiled again. “Yes...and no. Copley was the majority owner of Quantum, Inc, a small software firm in Chatsworth, California. He’d become deeply touched by my abduction and my mother’s inability to meet the ransom demand. Decades before, his own son had been abducted and ultimately murdered—his killer never identified. Upon learning of my situation, he offered up the ransom—a briefcase full of unmarked bills—as well as use of his company Leer jet for their escape out of the country.

“It worked. I was safely returned to my mother, my kidnappers escaped, and I returned to normal life. Sort of. When I turned eighteen, I learned Mr. Copley had left a substantial trust fund in my name to ensure I would receive an adequate education. On Mr. Copley’s generosity, I received dual B.A.s in computer sciences and cellular biology. I earned my MBA in business. I should note, these degrees were strongly recommended by my benefactor, Mr. Copley. Little did I know at the time, he was grooming me to be his successor at Quantum.

“And so you’re the head of it all.”

“I am,” she said, with no hint of pretentiousness.

“And,” Coe said, “therefore, you are the CEO, essentially, of the entire planet.”

“It’s...” She hesitated. “It’s much more complicated than that, but, you’re essentially correct; I am the CEO of Quantum, Inc, the majority shareholder of the company that, under my direction, has succeeded, indirectly, in purchasing every other business on the planet.”

“People will be outraged to discover—”

“It’s all there in the financial sections, Mr. Coe. There’s no secret. No hidden agenda. Through careful planning, wise business advice, and some savvy on my part, Quantum has become the parent company to the world.”

“Why doesn’t it make news, every time Quantum has bought another company?”

“We haven’t done it on our own,” she said. “We’ve been aided greatly by mergers of these smaller, less viable corporations that have streamlined our acquisitions by joining forces. Instead of a takeover of three companies, it’s a take over of one. We’ve left the companies we’ve bought mostly intact. They operate autonomously—unaware of us.”

“Why hasn’t the media caught on to this and had a field day—”

He understood almost immediately. Alice smiled.

“There’s Only One,” he said.

“It’s right there in the name,” she said, still smiling.

“What about monopolies? What about free trade? Isn’t what you’ve done technically illegal?”

“Quantum companies have colonized other planets, wiped out many illneses, extended the lives of ordinary people indefinitely. When you’ve given them everything they’ve ever wanted, they stop caring.”

“Have you seen it out there? Down on the streets? The endless stream of transients moving—always moving?”

She said, “It’s one of those
be careful for what you wish for
type of things, I’m afraid.”

Coe was uncertain he could trust the empathy in her voice. “And what you’ve done to me? To all of the people who have died?”

They stopped walking. Alice extended her hand. A bird descended from the sky and landed on her index finger. She drew it up to her face and looked at it as if she were looking at a bird for the very first time. “It’s so real,” she said, incredulously.

Coe did not understand.

“What if I told you the real world wasn’t like this?” she asked.

“Obviously, it’s not. We’re in some kind of simulation—”

“No,” she said, releasing the bird back to the sky. “I mean all of it. This building, this city, this entire scenario.” She paused. Her lips trembled. “And you.”

“
What do you mean
?”

“The real world—where I live, where Carmen lives—it’s not like this. Not yet. There are still wars, cancers...not as many as before—but there’s still room to roam.”

“
Real
world?”

“You’re in a simulation, Mr. Coe.”

“Simulation?”

They were suddenly in his apt. It took him by shock.

“I don’t know how you do that, but—”

He paused and looked around. He looked at his sofa, his CRT, his kitchen with its appliances and dripping faucet in the kitchen sink. He looked at the morning edition of
The Intelligencer
on the table and opened to the sports section—just as he had left it.

“It’s pretty good, huh?” she said.

“It looks real, it feels real—it’s
real
.”

“To you,” she said.

“What am I missing?”

“This is more difficult than I anticipated,” she said. “Carmen...Dr. Bruges...myself: we’re avatars.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant that metaphorically.

“I don’t know what that means—”

“We’re not really here—I’m not really here—with you.”

“You’re not standing in front of me,” he said.

“I’m in a computer lab in a small suburb just outside of San Francisco, California,” she said. “I’m seated in what could be described as a dentist’s chair. I’m wired to various apparatus—you’ll excuse my ignorance; this is Carmen’s baby, not mine. These wires allow me to interact—to engage—with the system, and you.”

“And where am I?” he asked, skeptically.

“You’re right here...right
there
.”

“I suppose you’ll tell me I’m a brain in a vat somewhere.”

“You’re part of the system, Mr. Coe.”

“The system.”

“The simulation,” she said. “But an extraordinary part. You see, you are the most sophisticated artificial intelligence ever developed.”

“Bullshit!”

She smiled at his outburst, as a mother smiles when her child has just learned to do something clever.

“You’re denial makes you even more wonderful. Don’t you see? Carmen created you, instilled you with personality, cunning, intelligence. You actually learn and have the ability to question your own existence like a real, sentient being.”

“You’re crazy,” he said. “This is some kind of trick—”

“Carmen, our chief software engineer, has overseen the entire program since your inception. You are an exact recreation of Scott Coe, Carmen’s old high school beau who was killed in the war. Like I said, we still haven’t completely solved
that problem
back on terra firma yet—”

“I don’t know what this is about, but it’s ridiculous,” he said. “I’m real; I exist. I think, therefore, I am.”

“You do exist,” she said. “You do. You’re as real as Carmen or me. I mean, who is to say the real world isn’t some sort of even more sophisticated simulation that we’re unaware of. Simulations creating simulations—or a simulation within a simulation. Dr. Bruges and I were just having this discussion the other—”

“Where are you keeping him?” Coe asked. “Where’s Bruges?”

“Ah, yes,” she said. “Your assignment. I forgot. The simulation created a scenario in which you needed to find Dr. Bruges as if he were a missing person. He’s fine, Mr. Coe. I assure. He’s also an avatar. You see, Dr. Bruges works on our staff.”

“His wife is trying to find him.”

“His wife—his
simulated
wife is,” she said. “Dr. Bruges has spent more time in the simulation than either Carmen or I, and he has interacted with the simulated population. His simulated wife is a version 1.1—not terribly sophisticated like you, a 3.0; still she was instilled with a back story concerning how they met, their life together, etc. He eventually had to log off, and I suppose the absence of his avatar left a void in the simulation which the sims felt compelled to fill.”

“Bruges is an avatar,” he said.

“A visitor,” she said. “Like me.”

“And what about the mysterious Mr. Hanover? I suppose he’s an avatar, too?”