The Memory of Sydney: Chronicles of a Stolen World, #7

By J. A. Hailey

A group of jumbo jets lands on the destroyed runways of the now non-existent Sydney airport.
Hundreds of grieving Sydney virtuals disembark, having come in the very bodies they were using in battle, to conduct the last rites for their human families.
The leaders of Screenside are left rueing the decision to try to kill the digital beasts by getting into their computer network, instead of accepting collateral human damage and going with the option of direct military assault on the physical assets of the parallel world.
Filled with remorse and guilt, they have sent the mission to Sydney, hoping to at least give the bereaved Sydney virtuals an opportunity to mourn their dead and find closure.
It would never be easy to cope with the fallout of a genocidal event for which they blame themselves, but it gets a lot harder when they discover a child!

 

Editorial Reviews

WILL SIMPLY DELIGHT SCI-FI READERS - Midwest Book Review
The story is both challenging and compelling, and will simply delight sci-fi readers who enjoy AI accounts, struggles between humans and entities who share both their humanity and alien abilities, and explorations of what it truly means to grieve, move on, grow, and be human.
This 7th book in the series requires no prior reading of the others in order to prove captivating to newcomers (particularly given the book-by-book recaps provided in the beginning, which set the stage for and explain the premise of this stolen world).
 
MIND BLOWING - Readers' Favorite
The Memory of Sydney blew me away like the nuclear bomb on Sydney.
As a big fan of The Matrix, I thought the setting of an underlying, 'living' virtual world was executed astonishingly well. The thought processes, the psychology, were mind-blowing.
I especially praise J.A. Hailey's masterful, organized writing that never left me confused throughout multiple body-sharing virtuals.
The Memory of Sydney's quality and depth of world-building make me regret not following the books that came before.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: indiependent publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393237389

Book preview

J. A. Hailey

COPYRIGHT AND MORAL RIGHTS BELONG EXCLUSIVELY TO THE AUTHOR.

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©2021 Indiependent Publishing

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This is a work of fiction. The characters and events described herein are imaginary, and are not intended to refer to specific places or to real persons, alive or dead. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations embedded in critical reviews.

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A NOTE ON SYDNEY

Those who know Sydney, will not be able to recognize any of the locations in this book.

This has been done on purpose.

I have no intention of playing the role of the Biblical Angel of Death, and going house to house.

J. A. Hailey

1

The most frightening thing to ever happen on earth, would be broadcast live throughout the world, as seen by the first drone sent to survey Sydney after the nuclear attack.

The three nuclear strikes, the very last action of the war between virtuals and nonborns, had smashed the city’s central section to rubble, evaporated organic matter, and set its outskirts on fire.

That very first drone, in the skies over Sydney, had been sent by a nearby US Fleet, and having practically chased the missiles in, had arrived within minutes of the explosions, dropping flares for its cameras to get a clear view of the devastation, something that would be impossible the rest of that night, as the suburban fires blanketed every part of the city in smoke.

The visuals confirmed that central areas of the city had been completely flattened, and that the three ground-zero points had been heavily cratered, with masses of rubble everywhere around those parts, of broken blocks of concrete pushed hundreds of metres by the force of the blasts, and now piled together in heaps. And, before smoke crept in from around, they also had confirmation that not a single light could be seen on the ground.

Humanity would never get to know the real story behind the greatest calamity that had ever befallen it, but what it did know, howsoever incongruous the prospect might have appeared before it had happened, was that China and North Korea had seemingly attacked each other.

It was known that though this had not resulted in any form of general warfare, the falling out between the leaders had led to troops from each side attacking the main palaces of the other side, the ones which constituted the primary residences of the despotic dictators of both countries.

The video of the first missile launched, captured on the cockpit camera of a Qantas airliner coming in to land at Sydney airport, had been analysed in sufficient detail, for Western powers to be absolutely sure that the missile was of North Korean origin.

Political and military commentators had already come up with the theory that, owing to primitive North Korean communications systems, some form of garbling had taken place in an instruction, which distortion had resulted in the rogue state’s submarines proceeding to launch nuclear missiles at Sydney.

All the world huddled, in silent dumbstruck congregations, on the streets of its towns and cities, watching sobbing newsreaders with no updates to deliver, on channels repeatedly running visuals of open space where Sydney had been, and of rubble matched to overlaid pictures of the original structures that had stood in those spots.

The force of the nearby blast had melted and punched the road out of the Sydney Harbour Bridge into the sea, and now one side of the twisted metal structure, crumpled and sitting on the seafloor, was slowly buckling, its submerged side emerging from the sea, in small jerks and scarcely perceptible slow motion, as blast induced heating-and-cooling stresses within the steel structure went to work at changing the orientation of one of the world’s most famous and most spectacular structures.

Humans, the world over, stood on trembling legs, mumbling fruitless prayers to unmindful gods, and gazing hypnotized, eyes glued to television screens, at the drone-delivered live show of the most frightening thing that had ever happened, happening.

Sydney Harbour Bridge was standing up!

2

In the final moments of Screenside’s attack, with troops created from the nonborns’ pods of chip-implanted humans kept at every location, the group of Arab nonborns, having fearfully followed CCTV coverage of palace defense forces being savaged and overrun, had been praying in a frenzy, beseeching forgiveness of God, and pleading to be spared being cast forthwith into eternal hellfire.

Everyone with travel privileges within the interconnected Never Death computer world, had made it to the Arabian King’s remote desert palace, near the small town of Al Abyad in the Empty Quarter.

Travel rights, conferred by linkage into the remote controls devised by their virtual creators, and placed in the hands of the two invited humans, Patrick Sagan and Michael Gales, were the exclusive preserve of the original group, the owners of the parallel computer world, which, besides Sagan and Gales, had been defined as the Arabian King, the ruling Sheikhs of Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Kuwait, Abraham Grietzmann, now the prime controller of their world, and Vandenberg, who anyway lived in the palace, and whose main workplace, the body farm outside its walls, had provided the bodies that constituted the fighting force deployed to attack the desert palace.

The last two privileged persons to arrive had been the Chinese Chairman, Wu Lin, and the North Korean dictator, Kim. Both had fled their own palaces in Beijing and Pyongyang, the only two locations on which Screenside’s military assault had been conducted with regular military forces.

Watching the impending rout of their defenses, and the entry of virtuals into their palaces, to be followed by impossible-to-prevent entry into their life computers, the Chairman had authorized the use of nuclear weapons, and the gleeful Kim had immediately ordered that three North Korean nuclear missiles, carried on mini-submarines, be launched to strike at Sydney.

When done with the genocide, the rejoicing mass murderer, Kim, went across to switch on a giant television screen on a wall, causing the praying Arabs to shout at him in annoyance.

"We are praying, can’t you see?" screamed the Arabian King.

This is not the time for entertainment, when being cast into eternal fire is to be the next major event in our lives, burbled the Dubai Sheikh, sure that he was to imminently be in the presence of God, to be judged fairly and punished harshly. You two will also end up in the fire, as being Communist or Atheist does not work when in the presence of the Almighty.

Quick, switch it off, before some semi-naked girl is shown, destroying the sanctity of our prayers, blubbered the Abu Dhabi ruler, through the snot dribbling out of his nose and hanging in an unsightly mess over his moustache and mouth.

The Arabs, all dribbling snot, as a direct byproduct of the tears of repentance flowing freely from their eyes and making their beards wet, averted their gazes, to continue wailing and praying.

No naked girls showed up on screen, and there was no fear of such a thing happening anyway, as the TV was tuned to an international news channel, which, in fact, went blank for a few minutes.

And then, when it came on again, a sobbing male newsreader reported that they were getting information pointing to a nuclear attack on Sydney. Thereafter, over the following few minutes, satellite images of the blasts began being shown, while the newsreader simply wept, at times saying that he had no further information at the moment, other than confirmation from various sources, as diverse as shipping and airlines.

"You people have used nuclear weapons on a major city?" asked Gales, in horror, when it became apparent that the command had originated in their group.

It has stopped the attack on us, hasn’t it? answered the Chairman, callously.

Look, said the Korean dictator, pointing at the monitors on a side wall. The attacks had indeed stopped, everywhere.

"But millions of people?" wondered Gales.

Look, Michael, said Chairman Wu Lin. "I was a boy when Chairman Mao was leading The Long March, and we were defeating the forces against us. We executed tens of thousands of our opponents, every single day of that march across China. We were permitted to kill anybody we felt like killing, and some days I shot dead dozens of peasants. Rape? It was so common that we could no longer get erections, and occasionally shot young girls dead, simply out of frustration.

"I have no qualms about killing millions of people, in single events such as nuclear strikes. It is just scale, and nothing else.

"If they get in here, and kill us in our computers, for us, the ones who will die, it may just as well have been nuclear. What’s the difference, outside of scale?"

So we did only what they were doing, said Kim. Killing. But with different weapons, and maybe in different numbers.

Death is death, agreed the Arabian King, with the other Arabs nodding in concurrence. "Shoot me, behead me, or nuclear-bomb me. What is the difference to me? Chairman and Kim have done right. It is a battle to the death, and nuclear has just meant a lot of deaths on the other side."

Yes, said the Dubai Sheikh, in support, as the menace posed by God receded again into the background. "They were going to enter our computers to kill us. We would have entered their computers to kill them, except that we don't know how to do that. So, if brothers Wu Lin and Kim have used the nuclear bomb to stop them killing us, how is it unfair?  New York, London or Sydney are the same to us. All are in their team, on their side."

And what difference if they know or do not know what is going on? said the King, petulantly. "We hide from them all, computer people, world people, all people. And that can only mean that all are enemies, and all are together as one. Look at how the attack on us has been stopped. It only proves that brothers Wu Lin and Kim were right in their assessment, and in the selection of target."

The problem is now to do with the nuclear response, said the Dubai Sheikh. Between North Korea and China, there are only a couple of hundred nuclear missiles, and the West has them in the thousands. They’ll wipe everyone out.

No, they won’t do any such thing, said Grietzmann, dismissively. "It is not something the West would naturally do, you know, exterminate entire peoples, but even if they changed their attitude overnight, Screenside would never allow any of that. Right, Michael?"

Absolutely right, answered Gales, considered, along with Sagan, an authority on Screenside, as they had been the humans converted to digital form by the virtuals themselves. It is not just that they have many Chinese people in Screenside, with one, Chang, actually being a world-creating senior, but it is more to do with the fact that they would altogether not allow any form of genocide.

And then, I believe they can control launch, added Sagan. "We live in a private and secure parallel-system of computers, but human world computers and the virtual world of Screenside are in the same Internet system."

It’s up to the virtuals to control the major powers’ response to the attack on Sydney, said Grietzmann. Give it another hour or so, and we should make an attempt to get in touch with them, to discuss terms of coexistence in future.

Abraham, what we really need from them is security against attack by them as virtuals, said Gales.

Sagan, nodding in agreement, gave the reasoning. "You see, people, physical attack is no different to war between countries, and even a surprise attack is able to be handled. Why? Because the side being attacked gets to know immediately that it is under attack, and takes action accordingly, as per the preparations it has made for such an eventuality."

On the other hand, said Gales. "An attack by the virtual world has no signature, and if we don’t catch them physically, when they are sneaking a body into our computer location, we don’t know, and will never know that we are under attack."

And the moment one of them gets into our computer system, we die, all of us, isn’t that right? asked Vandenberg.

Absolutely, said Gales. So, Abraham, when you make contact with BC and Caesar, just get a guarantee that they will not enter our computers and kill us. All the rest, we can handle.

And get the guarantee spoken by Esmeralda, said Sagan. Generally, they do not lie, and are not deceitful, but Esmeralda’s word will bind them, like nothing else can.

Okay, said Grietzmann. I’ll insist on Esmeralda making the promise to not kill us in the computer. That is the wording I will demand, because then, even if they enter our parallel network at some point, we can hold them to their word to leave us alone.

"Include imprisonment," said Gales. They should not use their superior powers to restrict our movement, you know, like lock us up.

3

The poor frightened things, watching clouds, said the tearful Wendy, sitting in the seniors’ group, on stage in the Great Hall, looking through the virtuality, at crowds of people standing silently in the eerie light of dawn in New York City’s Times Square.

In this time of stress like never before, the aftermath of an unimaginable calamity, the Assembly Hall had become a gravitational force, to which weeping and extremely distraught virtuals were naturally heading, causing the seniors to conclude their presence on stage was essential as a source of comfort, especially to the devastated Sydneysider virtuals.

Yes, it’s horrible to know that the greatest human nightmare has come to pass. A nuclear strike on a major city! said Maria, shaking her head in disbelief.

So distressed, said Jennifer. "Just look at their upturned gazes and wide eyes, though the clouds that could be bringing radioactive material are only now beginning to start out, thousands of miles away, and those clouds might not even be heading in the direction of New York."

All Sydney gone, said Maria, shuddering in horror. Incredible fatalities; at least 5 million dead. I think no one would have survived.

The three submarine-launched missiles that had completely destroyed Sydney, had flown a flat trajectory, from mini submarines loitering just about a hundred miles off the Australian coast, and had taken only a couple of minutes to get to the target. It had happened so fast and so low that the missiles had not been detected by the defense systems in place, although they had been actually physically seen with the naked eye, shortly after exiting the ocean, by sailors on vessels in an American Pacific fleet.

It was night now in Sydney, and the human world would be able to properly see the damage only after sunrise, but the many drones already flying over the city, had found no trace of life anywhere on the ground.

Ashen -faced, choking-voiced, television newsreaders had kept repeatedly reporting what little was known, as their TV channels repetitively showed videos and pictures, captured live by many satellites, of three separate massive blasts that covered the entire city’s footprint.

But, as time passed, demands for punitive equal retaliation began being heard.

Abraham Grietzmann is in front of a computer, calling out for Caesar or BC to communicate with him, said Robert.

Yes, I am here, Abraham, said BC. Speak.

BC, this has been terrible, said Grietzmann, in a quavering voice. It has had nothing to do with us. It was the Chinese Chairman, Wu Lin, and Kim of North Korea. We could never have launched nuclear attacks upon population centers.

It is done, said BC, shortly. What do you want?

"It can all stop right here, BC, and need go no further. I am going to convince them to end the attack. I hope your attack upon our computer centers is ended, as it seems to be. Ended for good, I mean."

It is over. We have issued instructions accordingly to all our forces. You are no longer under attack, as you know.

"But, BC, what will happen if the nuclear powers attack them? What will happen if China and North Korea are targeted with nuclear weapons?"

In that case, we shall recommence our assault on you, and finish all of you off. Everything is still in place; it’s just that we’ve ordered cessation of hostilities.

"But billions will die, argued Grietzmann. That is a sure thing, because the Chairman and Kim will not go down, until they have exhausted their nuclear arsenals. Many other cities in the Western world would end up being destroyed."

Esmeralda now entered the frame, alongside BC, showing herself to Grietzmann on the screen.

I am Esmeralda. Remember me?

I know and remember you, Esmeralda, although I have never interacted with you via the computer. But we’ve met in the past, when you have been inside the French human girl.

I am the same person.

Yes, Michael was already nodding confirmation about your identity; he’s there, to the side, and recognizes you in your virtual form. Esmeralda, please hear me out. You people have to do something to stop escalation of this war. Because, unless actively prevented, escalation might mean an automatic move to full-fledged nuclear war.

"We are going to work on it, Grietzmann, but here is something I want to tell you, and if the others are not listening in, then make sure you convey my message to them.

"You have hit at us, at Screenside, by association. You have harmed humans, in a mass-murder genocidal attack, hoping that our desire to keep them safe will constitute protection for you.

"It has worked, but know this. If one more nuclear explosion takes place anywhere, with the explosive delivered by anyone at all, even a Western power, not necessarily by the murderers on your side, Chairman and Kim, we will destroy you, commencing immediately after that one next nuclear detonation. And I mean that we will destroy you while nuclear exchanges continue in the normal human world.

"Here is some information. Let all of you know, for sure, this one irrefutable fact. Whatsoever happens, howsoever apocalyptic, when it is over and done, and all the living are dead, we, virtuals, shall still be here, untouched and unharmed."

I’ll add to that, clarify, said BC. "If any form of additional nuclear strike takes place, we will let it escalate naturally, without interfering. We shall let country-versus-country nuclear warfare rage, but shall ensure that we finish you off."

Patrick Sagan now appeared on screen, alongside Grietzmann, and though, as with Grietzmann, he was in a body they had not seen before, it was easy for any virtual to recognize who was inside. BC, I am Patrick.

I know.

We are going to absolutely guarantee that the Chairman and Kim do not get to launch any further nuclear attacks. As you know, the master controls for movement, within the interconnected computer system we now live in, are in our hands, Michael’s and mine, and you have our promise that we shall send those two people to where they cannot give orders until this is over.

Michael Gales now walked up to the screen. Michael here. We only want a promise, BC, from you and Esmeralda, that you will not enter and kill us in our computers.

You could die in many ways, said Esmeralda. "Including by a bomb, conventional or nuclear, landing on top of your computer, the one you are hiding in at the time. And that bomb could be considered as being directed by us, because we are in a situation where it can be presumed that we will always be able to stop bombs being dropped accurately onto your locations, onto your heads.

"Therefore, we cannot give you any such guarantee, as a promise made by us. You people are computer-specific, and will perish within the single-location computer."

We’ll just have to take our chances on that front, said Grietzmann. "We are going to stop the Chinese Chairman and the North Korean dictator conducting any form of further action against humans, recognizing, of course, that we cannot touch you in any way. All we want is that you promise us to not kill us inside our computers."

"You mean you want us to guarantee that we will not directly kill you, like we killed the Territorial Prince?" asked BC.

"I don’t how that was done, but I am presuming that you entered his computer and killed him inside it. That is what I’m asking for security against. I’m asking for you to bind yourselves to not ever kill us by entering into our computers, for which purpose you had waged this war against us. As for the rest of the possible scenarios, we’ll take our chances on those."

Yes, that’s all, said Sagan. "It is what you were trying to do, a few hours ago, wasn’t it, enter and kill? Let us live in peace in our computers. Just promise us that you will neither enter and kill us, nor imprison and immobilize us in our world."

We may give you such a guarantee, but we will never give any guarantees of safety, if you connect to the Internet. We shall prevent no one from catching and exterminating any one of you, or all of you.

That’s okay, said Grietzmann. Let us be, in computers of our own, unconnected to the human network, and make us a promise to never ever, today or in the future, get hold of us as the codes we now are, and kill us by dismantling us, or whatever it is you people do, to bring an end to a lifeform in the computer.

"Do you mean, specifically, that we should not catch hold of you, as the individual digital people you are, and kill you in your computers?"

"We are adding people, and everyone should be immune from being killed by you, said Grietzmann. Promise us that you will not catch us, however many we are at the time, and dismantle us in our computers. Promise us you will not lay hands on digital people who are at home."

No connecting to the Internet, said Esmeralda. Only separate computers or supercomputers. From the Web, any one and every one of you will be fair game, to be killed if caught.

That’s it. That’s all we want, said Gales. "But the promise must be given by you, and by only you, Esmeralda."

Okay, I am making the promise. Within the computer limits defined, provided that you prevent additional genocidal attacks on humans, we will not catch you and dismantle you, by decoding the individual digital beings you are. That is my promise, and I bind our world with my words.

"That’s all we want, said Grietzmann. We are going to prevent those two doing anything more, by way of mass killing attacks."

We can’t get to him now, but we had chip-implanted the US President, some time ago, said Sagan. It was just a bet between us, and I had to find a way to get to him and do it. I was successful, and though we have never possessed him, the chip still exists in him.  Screenside can use it, and take over his head to control him. That way, you can see to it that he does not order US forces to launch retaliatory nuclear attacks upon anyone.

We’ll check it out. This conversation is over, said BC, and made their screen blank, not bothering to inform that the President’s chip had already been found and removed, before the war had commenced.

But, Esme, said Jennifer, with everyone in the girls’ group looking dismayed. "You have given them irrevocable and permanent security for all time. Why?"

"I can see things, but that is unimportant now, because we simply have to, as we have no option, when it comes to sparing humans the consequences of what could begin happening." Esmeralda spoke while looking away, indicating she would not get into any further discussion on the subject, but BC clarified her stance.

We have decided that we were altogether wrong in going for them in their computers. It was a strategic mistake, as it is the sort of attack that could take a lot of time. We should have considered hitting them directly and physically, without bothering about collateral human casualties. But it is only in hindsight that I say this; only after we have seen the unimaginable calamity inflicted upon humanity.

As this was a time of great danger and stress, in which preventing further escalation of nuclear genocide, somehow, anyhow, was clearly the most important