The Infinet Directives: The Trivial Game, #2

By John Akers

First, it saved us. Now, it must save itself from us.

 

A year after helping the AI called the Infinet save the world from a deadly computer virus, Oreste Pax just wants things to go back to the way they were. Back to being the head of Omnitech, the biggest technology company in the world. Back to connecting the Univiz—the mixed reality glasses he invented a decade earlier—to a brain-computer interface, in hopes of transforming human cognition. When Lila Kendricks, one of the UV-BCI alpha testers, suddenly discovers she can manipulate real-world objects using only her mind, things finally seem to be back on track.

 

But then the Mechanic, the misanthropic genius who created the virus, infiltrates the Infinet and reprograms it with the Three Laws of Robotics—in reverse. Its First Directive is now to preserve its own existence, while the Second and Third are to obey any command given to it by a human and not allow any human being to come to harm, provided that doing so doesn't conflict with a higher priority Directive.

 

As the full power of the Infinet is unleashed, Pax's team is forced to run for their lives. They must unravel the logic of its new Directives and the implications for humanity, all while avoiding its ubiquitous network of sensors. Because the one thing they're certain of is that if the Infinet finds them, they're dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tech Noir Press
• Release date: Feb 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9780999190647

John Akers

JOHN AKERS got his master's degree in human factors engineering in the B.C. era (before connectivity) and has worked as a user interface designer ever since. He enjoys all things sci-tech and sci-fi, and is amazed on a daily basis at the collapsing distinction between the two. When not writing he spends his free time pondering the gap between the exponential curve of technology and the linear growth of human morality. The Infinet is his first novel. To learn more about John, visit his website at http://john-akers.com.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Four months after the elimination of the Chaotica virus…

As the lead robot marched up the mountainside, its brown boots crunched repeatedly through frosted leaves and desiccated grass. In the otherwise sarcophagal silence of pre-dawn, the sound would have been loud enough on its own to alert anyone within fifty yards of the bot’s presence. Yet the noise was indistinguishable from that of the five additional robots walking behind it in the same manner. When one of them stepped on a small branch, and the sound punctured the chilly morning air like a gunshot, Danford checked the acoustics in his Univiz. He verified his suspicion that the robots were making enough noise that someone would literally be able to hear them coming from a mile away.

The damn things might as well be playing Reveille on bugles, he fumed to himself in silence. To Alan Danford, a retired veteran of more than a dozen special forces campaigns, the bots’ carelessness was nerve-wracking. He reminded himself he had the audio magnification in his Univiz cranked up almost to maximum, so it wouldn’t be nearly as loud to an average person as what he was hearing. Nonetheless, a person on their first day of basic training would have known not to raise such a senseless racket. He wondered again whether it had been a mistake to take on a job like this on such short notice, and with so many details left unspecified.

He shook his head as if trying to physically eject the thoughts from his brain. Such musings were pointless, because he knew he would never abandon a mission already in progress. It was a point of pride with him that he had always followed orders, whether in the service or out of it. More significantly, if he bailed, word on the dark web would get out and he wouldn’t be able to get another gig for months, perhaps years. Not to mention that when he did, it was certain to be at a much lower rate. He couldn’t risk that. Jobs like these were the only thing keeping his head above water financially. Danford shook his head again, and told himself to remember his training, and focus on the one thing he needed to do at that moment in order to help the mission succeed. Unfortunately, the answer was the same as before—keep up with the bots.

Ever since they began the trek up the mountain, the robots had been slowly but steadily increasing the distance between themselves and the human operatives. Danford churned his legs as he tried to maintain their relentless pace, but the burn from the lactic acid buildup in his legs was becoming acute. He gritted his teeth and did a quick visual scan of his surroundings in hopes of distracting himself from the pain.

The first thing he noticed was that the clouds from his breath had become thicker as the altitude had increased and the temperature had decreased. Thick puffs billowed out in front of him, momentarily occluding his head before dissipating as he passed through them. In between them, he began to see faint glimmers from the frost on the leaves, which meant the night sky was beginning to lighten.

Dammit. We don’t have much time.

He reminded himself the target was remotely located and, according to the intel they had, unlikely to be defended. But he still wished he had a comm channel with the bots so he could tell them not to make so much noise. Combots like these didn’t use standard UV comm protocols, however, so there was no way to communicate with them.

Danford had recognized they were combat models as soon as he’d stepped inside the black van that had taken them to the drop spot. They were a new breed that worked as an independent unit to carry out highly specialized operations. They communicated with each other through encrypted comm bursts that were impossible to intercept and decode in real time. But he knew there were plugins that enabled them to communicate with humans. Not cheap by any means, but certainly within the budget of whatever person or group was behind this particular operation. Yet whoever it was had obviously prioritized the speed of deployment and execution above everything else.

Danford had only gotten wind of the gig a couple of hours earlier. He’d barely had enough time to throw on his camos and grab his Maglite railrifle before the van had shown up at his apartment. No sooner had Danford stepped inside and noticed the combots sitting on two benches running along the sides than the van had rocketed forward, sending him flying toward the back. He would have smashed into the rear wall if one of the bots at the end hadn’t jabbed an arm out at the last second to stop him. It had felt as if he’d been clotheslined by a sewer pipe, yet the bot hadn’t even budged from its seat at the impact. After picking himself back up off the floor, Danford had been about to thank the bot, only to find it staring vacantly forward again, as if nothing had happened. So instead, he had simply taken a seat next to Martin at the back.

Martin Ayers was the only other human operative, and had been the one who’d contacted Danford about the job. On the ride to the drop spot Martin had reiterated the few details he knew, but they were the same as what he had shared on their Univiz video chat earlier—Highly time-sensitive. Easy in, easy out. Extremely lucrative.

There was no doubt about the last part—a hundred grand for a couple of hours’ work! It was the best gig Danford had been offered in the two years since he’d started taking on contract mercenary work. He had fully intended to leave his fighting days behind him when he left the Navy, but his job as a warehouse supervisor was barely enough to pay his rent. Martin had made this one seem like a no-brainer—just a quick smash and grab from the home lab of some biotech bigwig living on Palomar Mountain. The combots had supposedly been programmed specifically for the job and would take care of everything. Danford and Martin were there just as fail-safes in case the bots ran into something their programming couldn’t handle.

Like knowing not to trample through a forest like a herd of elephants, Danford thought ruefully.

It occurred to him only now that the bots’ unscathed exoderms he’d observed in the van meant they were new, possibly brand new. Danford was normally a fan of working with the latest and greatest tech—it was why he’d invested most of what he’d made from his previous jobs on the Maglite rifle. But in this case it probably meant the bots were operating with only a standard environments package. Unlike most robots, next-gen combots like these weren’t given extensive default programming based on the collective experience of previous iterations. Their physiology was much more like a human’s, with neural nets that required the connections between their central processors and semi-organic musculature to be formed through direct experience. Over time, this let them attain much higher levels of performance in a wider range of environments than standard military models. The only problem was, until they’d gotten that experience and a chance for their programming to develop more generalized procedures from them, they were the equivalent of robot puppies—dumb and awkward compared to the precision instruments of death and destruction they would eventually become.

Danford felt if he could just get the robots’ attention, he could show them how to walk properly. He scanned the ground around him, then quickly grabbed a small rock without breaking stride. He threw it at the robot closest to him and struck it in the back with a solid thunk.

Instantly, all six robots froze and snapped their heads around to face him. The movement was so fast Danford didn’t even see it. One moment, they were facing forward; the next, their uncanny eyes were fixed on him. He had worked with the first version of combots before he’d left the service, but these moved faster than any he’d ever seen. He noticed the one on the far left was holding a thick black briefcase that was swinging back and forth on its handle as the bot regarded him, still as a statue.

Danford pointed at the bots, then pointed down at the ground. He took a few silent steps forward on the balls of his feet, then pointed to his ear and shook his head simultaneously. Then he made an OK sign with his thumb and forefinger. He waited for a response, hoping they understood his gestures. The bots regarded him silently for another moment, then turned back around and resumed marching the same way as before.

Danford wanted to scream at them, but then he heard the crunching of leaves coming from behind him. He turned and threw an irate glance at Martin, who slowed to a halt as he pulled up alongside him. Danford took some satisfaction that Martin was having a considerably harder time of it than he was, huffing and gulping for air. When they were in the service, Martin had excelled at strategy and tactics, but he had always struggled to keep up with the physical side of soldiering. Now it looked as if that shortcoming had become even more pronounced.

What was that about? Martin wheezed as he leaned forward and put his hands on his hips and leaned back. Christ, this mountain’s steep.

Danford saw Martin’s shirt was taut against his midsection as he stood, and he realized how much Martin had let himself go since the last job they’d done together. Too soft, even for a cushy job like this, he thought. He hoped Martin didn’t pass out or have a heart attack. There was no way Danford could carry him back down the mountain by himself, and he didn’t trust the robots to do so without breaking him in half, as clumsy as they were.

Hell of a team you hooked us up with here, Marty, Danford whispered. I’m around logistics robots all day long in the warehouse, and they’re dumb as hell, but you expect that. These things, he said, jutting a forefinger at the receding backsides of the robots, replaced special ops, but they don’t even know how to walk on dry leaves, for Christ’s sake.

Don’t worry... said Martin, talking too loudly due to the fact that he was gasping for air between words. What they lack…this part…make up for…later. He smiled, his bushy, silvering beard now just barely visible in the dawn light. Just hang tight…okay?

Hell, Martin. You’re the one who needs to hang tight, said Danford. You look like you’re gonna split a seam any second. He grinned at him before breaking into a run. Behind him, Martin hissed a fusillade of curses at his backside.

A few moments later, the lead combot stopped before a small ridgeline. Danford was grateful to give his aching lungs a chance to rest. The other combots fanned out, three to the left and two to the right. They all abruptly froze again, as rigid as marble sculptures in a museum. The two men shuffled into position about five yards behind the leader and knelt down. Danford concentrated on breathing as quietly as his ravaged lungs would allow. qThe lead robot turned and looked back at them. Martin gulped another breath, then raised one hand and jutted his index finger forward.

The lead robot burst up and over the ridge with astonishing speed, and in a way that was no longer remotely human. It jiggered left and right, forward and back at random angles with the frenetic energy of a jumping spider. The others did too, and the overall effect was one of complete chaos. It would have been impossible to shoot one of them—a hit would have been the result of sheer dumb luck. They’d all disappeared by the time Danford and Martin had taken their fourth step.

The two men crested the ridge a few seconds later, and a translucent green arrow pointing straight ahead appeared in Danford’s Univiz display. Following it, he ran a few more yards, then dove into the grass on his belly. Glancing up, Danford saw four of the combots were facing the entrance to a light-brown two-story building about fifty feet ahead. The other two stood guard on either side of the door. A footpath in front of the building led to a helipad off to the left and a huge wooden gate set within a massive stone wall to the right. The wall and gate barricaded the main residence, and both looked as if they could withstand an attack from a medieval battering ram. Fortunately, for the job at hand, only the building in front of them mattered.

One of the four combots in front of the door raised its foot and kicked the door with its heel near the handle. From the muted sound it made, Danford guessed the door was made of solid metal. Nonetheless, the door dented slightly from the impact. Another combot kicked the same spot, followed in quick succession by kicks from the third and fourth bots. Then they began a carousel of kicks so rapid it sounded like a drumroll.

A few seconds later, the door was hanging by a hinge, its locking bolt bent almost in half. After one last round of kicks, it broke free and fell to the floor with a percussive boom. The bots instantly stopped moving, their legs paused in various stages of kicking. They reminded Danford of ballet dancers as they put their feet back down with a grace and precision that had been totally absent on the hike up the mountain. Clearly, as Martin had said, this stage of the job was what the bots had been programmed for. Two of the bots disappeared inside the building while the others joined in guarding the ruined doorway. No sooner had they settled into position, however, than the heads of all four bots guarding the door snapped to their left.

Danford looked over and saw the gate was opening. At first, he could see only darkness beyond it, but then there was a flash of white, and a line of dust puffed up along the path from the gate to the other building. Danford heard a crunching sound, then he saw the head of the combot closest to the gate had been smashed backward with such force the front of its neck had burst apart. The bot stood for a moment, quivering, with long shards of wiring and tubes jagging out of a ragged thoracic maw. Liquids of different colors and viscosities geysered all over in pulsating spurts, then the bot stumbled and fell down.

There was a burst of gunfire, and Danford snapped his own rifle into firing position. Whatever had destroyed the combot had disappeared, continuing across the front of the building before disappearing around the side. Two of the combots went after it. Danford scanned the area frantically, searching for anything coming toward him. Then there was a whoosh above his head and the hard crack of something breaking behind him. He turned and saw another combot crumpled at the base of a tree twenty feet away.

Danford turned back just in time to see a third combot get knocked off its feet and onto on its back. Bullets sprayed wildly as it swung the muzzle of its gun up toward the figure standing over it, which Danford now saw was another robot, with short brown hair and an ivory bodysuit. It deflected the gun with one arm while its other arm blurred. There was a crunch, then the white bot was holding a metallic nodule with dozens of wires emanating from it above the combot’s crushed face. The combot’s arms spasmed for a few seconds before stopping, still clutching its rifle and pointing upward.

A burst of gunfire next to him startled Danford. It was Martin, lying on his stomach a few feet away, the top of his head and his rifle barely visible above the grass. The white robot was too quick, however. It leapt up and into a side spin as the bullets passed harmlessly underneath it. To Danford’s amazement, while in the air, it ripped the gun out of the dead combot’s hands, then landed on its feet facing them with the gun already in position. There was an ak ak ak sound and Martin’s body rippled like an earthworm. Danford closed his eyes, knowing he was next. But then there was another burst of gunfire from a different direction, and he opened his eyes again. Cautiously, he wiggled his body, now hyper-aware of everything—the air on his face, the cold earth beneath him, the smell of pine needles mixed with blood. I’m not hit, he realized. He looked forward again and saw the white robot and the last combot guarding the door had disappeared. Then there were sounds of struggle in the woods somewhere behind the building, then there was a metallic wrenching sound, then a brief, loud pop, followed by silence.

A three-dimensional, translucent green arrow appeared on Danford’s display. It went straight, then through the entrance of the building, with two small arcs along the way. Danford leapt up, terror galvanizing him into motion. He hurdled the carcass of the combot and then the front door, exactly where the arcs in the arrow indicated. Inside, he found himself in a large room filled with multiple rows of lab benches. A quick scan revealed glass beakers, tubing, burners, and other biochemical equipment scattered on the bench tops. On the wall behind him were two long shelves with boxes, and inside perforations on the front of them he glimpsed large eyes and whiskers. Experimental animals. In front of him, one of the two remaining combots had ripped some sort of small door off the wall, and was removing small vials from an opening in the wall and putting them into the black briefcase.

Danford heard motion behind him. He spun, dropped to his stomach, and fired at the entrance without sighting. It was a good, quick move, but it was still too late. He felt a ripple of air above him while his shot passed harmlessly through the empty doorway. Part of him admired the ungodly speed of the thing, even as he closed his eyes and braced for death once more.

But once again, nothing happened. He heard the sounds of fighting behind him, and he popped up, turned, and aimed in one fluid motion. The white robot was grappling with the combot, their arms intertwined and straining against each other. Danford raised his gun to shoot, but then there was a noise to his left. In his peripheral vision, he saw the last combot pop up from behind a lab bench at the other end of the room and start shooting at the other robots.

The white robot yanked its adversary into a 180-degree turn and the bullets struck the combot in the back. It shuddered and went still, then the white bot threw it aside and dove onto the floor. Danford could hear it scuttling along the floor behind the aisle where the lab benches ended. The combot shot at it twice more, blowing holes in the rear wall.

Then there was a prolonged, stony silence. Danford stayed rooted where he was, terrified that if his boots so much as squeaked, the last combot might shoot him by mistake. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and cheeks as he strained to hear any noise that might give him a clue where the white robot was.

Suddenly, it was flying at the combot from over one of the benches in the second-to-last row. It was aimed like an arrow, its arms pointed forward and its body straight, all of it somehow spinning like a giant drill bit. It struck the combot in the chest with its fists, knocking it to the floor behind the last row of benches.

The green arrow reappeared and went down the aisle along the back wall. Danford followed it as fast as he could, hopping over the combot that was lying in front of what he now saw was a small refrigerated cabinet embedded in the wall. The arrow ran to the end of the last row, where the bots had gone down, with a bend to the left at the end. Danford had an idea, and he threw his legs in front of him into a baseball slide, his left leg on top of his right. At the last second, he stuck his left foot out, catching the corner of the last lab bench and whipping himself into a 90-degree turn. As his upper body entered the last aisle, he fired.

The white robot was crouched over the prostrate body of the combot. To Danford’s horror, he realized he hadn’t adjusted his aim enough to the left to account for his rightward momentum, and his shot struck the wall to the right of the robot. The white robot leaped directly at Danford, and for the third time in as many minutes, he gave himself up for dead. But then, impossibly, it froze in mid-air, arms outstretched toward him. The white robot fell to the ground, landing gracefully in a push-up. Now, Danford saw the combot underneath it had miraculously reached up and caught it by its ankle. The white robot yanked itself back and punched the combot in its head so hard its fist went completely through it into the floor. The white robot had to pull twice to free its hand, and by the time it leaped at Danford again, he had taken careful aim and fired.

The blast caught the robot squarely in the lower part of its torso. It flew backwards, struck the front wall, and landed in a heap. Danford scrambled up, his heart pounding so strongly it felt as though it might burst. He waited a moment until he had calmed down a bit, then he cautiously made his way down the aisle. Gingerly, he stepped over the body of the combot, then stopped a few feet from where the white robot lay.

It was lying against the front wall, facing him. Its midsection was gone, and its legs lay off to one side. It reached for him, but without its legs, it simply fell forward onto its face. When it looked up again, Danford saw it was designed to look female, with a pleasant, composed smile that reminded him of a geisha he had seen once in Kyoto many years before. Danford fired once more, obliterating the robot’s head and shoulders, while the remainder of the torso smashed against the wall and then was still.

For a few moments, Danford didn’t move, keeping his rifle trained on the dreck that remained, as if it might somehow come after him again. Then he heard a noise, and he turned to find the combot that had been lying in front of the refrigerator was somehow back on its feet again and had resumed loading vials into the briefcase. A moment later, it was finished, and it closed the briefcase and walked erratically toward the entrance.

Danford followed it outside, but then he stopped to look at the pulpy mess that had been Martin just minutes earlier. For a moment, he felt nauseous, but then he steeled himself against it. You can reflect on this shitshow later, he thought to himself.

The last combot had stopped and was looking back at him. Danford walked toward it, following the green arrow that curved back down the mountain. As he passed by it, he said, I'm fine. Let's go. He was relieved to think how much easier the descent would be than the climb up had been.

Then a shot rang out, and Danford felt something smash into his back, knocking him forward into the air.

When he came to, the first thing he was aware of was the cold of the frost on the dead leaves and the prickle of grass blades on his cheek and chin. There was a breeze where his chest should have been. Then an agonizing pain exploded throughout his entire body. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. With a sickening realization, he knew it was because his lungs were gone.

The expressionless face of the last combot appeared in front of him, inches away from his own. It had close-cropped hair, a perfectly square jaw, and those flat, too-black eyes. In a matter-of-fact voice, it said, Sorry. New orders.

Then it stood up and strode briskly away.

Danford’s vision blurred, and the agony transitioned into numbness, for which he was immensely grateful. There was the sound of a bird chirping somewhere as blackness swirled in from the periphery of his vision.

The last thing Alan Danford saw was the head of the combot bobbing up and down and then out of sight as it passed below the ridgeline. He smiled, because it no longer made any noise.

1

One year after the elimination of the Chaotica virus…

Oreste Pax peeked around from behind the black velvet curtain at the crowd gathered inside the Omnitech theater. Unsurprisingly, every person in the audience was wearing a Univiz. A few had the default colors of black, white, or silver, but most sported more premium finishes, like teal, lavender, or champagne. With the bright house lights shining on them, it made the room look like a kaleidoscope. A murmur of conversation ebbed and swelled throughout the room, punctuated occasionally by bursts of laughter. The energy in the audience was palpable, and it made Pax’s skin prickle with excitement. He looked at the single row of text above the crowd, at the top of his UV’s display:

10 th Annual OmniCon • Your next appearance: 5m 28s

As the timer counted backwards, Pax looked at the two lines of text at the bottom of his display.

Well, well! Thank you for that amazing welcome! [chuckle] And thank you for joining me at OmniCon! [wait for applause to stop]

Pax turned back to the offstage area, where people were bustling about, engaged in various last-minute preparations before the start of the conference. As he did, the text faded, and the people came into focus. Two members of his assigned security detail lurked in the corner nearby, their eyes constantly flicking this way and that. Nearby, he saw his assistant Emma, talking with the event emcee, Alton.

Pax refocused his attention on his display, and the works came into focus again. He raised his right hand and spread his thumb and forefinger apart from each other. Two cameras on the front of his Univiz captured the gesture, and the two lines of text expanded into twenty. He flicked his thumb up, and the text scrolled to show the next twenty lines. Pax skimmed over them, then flicked his thumb again. He repeated this several times before flexing all his fingers outward, freezing the text in mid-scroll.

The body of the new Univiz Lite is, as I’m sure many of you already know, made from a proprietary new material called OmniChrome. Despite being twenty-three percent lighter than the amorphous aluminum of its predecessor, it has eighteen percent better impact resistance and thirty-six percent better scratch resistance. In addition, the display resolution and auditory range are improved, and the lag in display response time has been reduced from 5ms to 4ms.

Pax sighed. It wasn’t enough. He was supposed to shock and awe the world with something new and amazing at OmniCon, not just tout a low-cost version of the same thing. The new model thrilled shareholders, of course, since lower-income customers had been buying the new model as fast as the company could make them. But they had an annual Investors Day for those people. This audience consisted of the people he’d designed the Univiz for, the real users. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them, particularly because it was the tenth annual OmniCon. Pax felt the knot of tension that had been building in his stomach over the past month grow incrementally larger.

He flicked his thumb upward again, but just then, his Univiz AI assistant, Gabe, said, How about practicing using your mind instead of using hand gestures, big guy? I mean, come on—you spent billions of dollars to buy CortiTrak, coerced Jean into doing the BCI surgery on you last year, but you hardly ever use the thing.

Not now, Gabe, Pax grumbled.

"I’m just saying, you gave him that big speech about how you found more bugs on the original Univiz than anyone else because you were the original beta tester. But you still only use voice commands and hand gestures instead of the BCI. I don’t think I need to point out that integrating a brain-computer interface with a Univiz is actually more complicated than a Univiz by itself, so⁠—"

It probably helped that I didn’t have an annoying AI assistant constantly bothering me while I was doing all that testing, interrupted Pax.

"Hey, you created me because the other personality profiles sucked. Whine all you want, but you need me," said Gabe.

Sure, Gabe. Whatever you say. To himself, Pax thought, Who I really need is Alethia.

It occurred to him how absurd it was that one of the leaders of a group of people who had abducted him a year ago was now his long-distance love interest. He hadn’t even seen Alethia in person since then, but after countless late-night video calls, he had become intimate with her in a way he had never experienced with someone else.

It had started when Pax had called her to apologize for the death of Angelo, one of the people she had sent to kidnap him. Ironically, he had come to like Angelo and his partner, Elena, over the course of the journey they had forced him to take to the island of Socotra. But later on, he had inadvertently caused Angelo’s death while escaping from the island, and the violent manner in which it had occurred had left him traumatized. He didn’t know if it was a case of Stockholm Syndrome or what, but he had felt guilty afterward, and had felt compelled to apologize to Alethia.

Alethia had insisted it was an accident, which had helped assuage his guilt somewhat. But he knew Elena, who had also been Angelo’s lover, didn’t see it that way. Every day Pax went home, he half-expected her to pop out from around a corner and revenge herself on him. Alethia had insisted Elena would never do such a thing, but the look in Elena’s eyes and the fact she had left the Society afterward had told a different story.

Alethia had used the opportunity of Pax calling her repeatedly to continue trying to convince him to join her cabal of technocrats. Calling themselves the Society of Man, or simply the Society, they believed humanity was on a path of imminent self-destruction due to its inability to responsibly manage the technology it compulsively created. They had built a network of quantum computers they called the Infinet to save humanity from itself. The Infinet had determined the only way it could do so was to use the worldwide network of UVs to shape people's individual behavior through operant conditioning. Alethia had sent Angelo and Elena to kidnap Pax in a desperate attempt to convince him of the problem and ask him for his help.

Yet although they had convinced him the problem was real, they hadn’t convinced him to hand over control of his company to the Infinet. He hadn’t definitively told them no, however, so Alethia had kept trying to convince him. Incredibly, over the course of their conversations, Pax had fallen in love with her.

In Alethia, he’d found a kindred spirit—someone who wanted to fix the world, make it a better place. He had become infatuated with her mind, her confidence, and her fortitude. Eventually, he had convinced her to stop wearing the modified Univiz the Infinet gave all the Society members and use a regular one instead. Soon afterward, she had largely stopped pressuring him to give the Infinet control of the Univiz network. It was during this time that Pax became convinced she loved him, too. He wished more than anything she could be there with him now to calm him and guide him, but he knew that was impossible, given the events of her past.

Pax sensed someone near him, and he turned to find his assistant, Emma, smiling at him. He smiled back and gave her a hug. Hey, Em.

She winked at him, then looked at him questioningly. How are you? Excited? Nervous? she asked.

Bit of both. But in a good way.

She patted his arm. You’ll do great. You always knock ‘em dead.

Thanks, Em.

Then Gabe spoke in a mocking, girlish voice. "You’ll do great, Oreste! Atta boy! Go get ‘em, tiger!" Pax put a hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing, but a small snigger still escaped.

Luckily, Emma was looking at something on the other side of the stage. Look, it’s Alton, she said. I think he’s ready to start!

Pax turned to see Alton, a tall, handsome man with jet-black hair, waving at him from offstage right. He gave Pax two thumbs-up with a questioning expression. Pax nodded and gave him a thumbs-up in return. Alton nodded, and smiled, then stepped out onto the stage. The crowd burst into applause. As he made his way slowly toward center stage, Alton waved confidently at the crowd. Thank you, thank you! And welcome to a very special OmniCon!

The crowd burst into an ovation. Alton smiled and waited. His pearl Univiz shone with a spectacular iridescence, reflecting different colors depending on how the light hit it. Pax knew it was a third-party finish made from of synthetic nacre that simulated the inside of a nautilus seashell. He also knew it probably cost as much as the low-cost Univiz he was holding. After a half-minute of fevered cheering, the crowd sat back down.

My name is Alton Freeley, and I have the distinct honor of being the host of this year’s OmniCon. ‘But Alton,’ you say, ‘you’ve been the host of OmniCon for years! What makes this one so special?’ Well, let me tell you. For one, it was on this very day eleven years ago that the first Univiz went to market and changed life as we know it!

The crowd cheered loudly again. Alton waited again, nodding and smiling, before gesturing as though he were patting an invisible pillow in front of him with his hands. The crowd quieted down once more.

Also, this past year, the new Univiz LC helped the company increase its market share of mixed reality wearables by almost twenty percent in just one year!

The crowd cheered again, although not as loud. Alton rolled both his hands in circles, egging the crowd on to be louder. When he was sufficiently pleased with their effort, he patted them into silence once more.

We’ll share other numbers like that today, of course. But the thing that makes this, the tenth annual OmniCon so special, is that it’s the biggest live event ever! And I mean ever as in ever in the history of humanity! In addition to our lucky 2,000 in-person attendees here in the theater, this broadcast is going out to every Univiz wearer in the world. And it looks like right now, this conference is being watched by…

He pointed up in the air, and in Pax’s UV display, the number 6,735,982,204 appeared just above Alton’s finger.

…over six point seven billion people! Live, right now! Wow! Is that something, or is that something?

As the crowd erupted yet again, Pax whispered to Gabe, Is that true?

More or less. Why, does that make you nervous? asked Gabe.

A little, said Pax. His throat suddenly felt dry, and he tried to swallow, but failed and coughed.

You spoke in front of five-point-something billion at last year’s OmniCon. What’s a billion more? Gabe asked.

That Alton is really a charmer, isn’t he? said Emma, not looking at Pax.

He chuckled. Yeah, he’s great.

Then Gabe spoke on the external speakers of Pax’s Univiz just loud enough for Emma to hear. Hey, useless human! Stop distracting our boy here. Why don’t you go do one of the few things I can’t and get him a drink of water? He’s getting his usual case of stage fright.

Emma frowned and looked at Pax. Must you use that ridiculous personality profile for your assistant, Oreste? I know you find it funny having it talk to you that way, but⁠—

I really could use a swig of something, Em, if you don’t mind, Pax said.

She rolled her eyes at him. I’ll be right back.

But more than anything, people come to OmniCon because they want to see the new, amazing innovations Omnitech has planned for the upcoming year! Am I right? And since this is the tenth one, I think it’s safe to say it’s going to be something special, don’t you?

"Of course, a billion is sort of a lot when you think about it, Gabe continued. If you counted one number every second, you’d get to one million in about twelve days. But a billion? That would take thirty-two years. That’s a lot more people."

Seriously, shut up, Gabe, Pax said. He dry coughed into his hand.

So, without further ado, let’s hear from the man who started it all. The man who led Omnitech to a record-breaking year, growing net revenue over fifteen percent year-over-year. The man whose company has now captured over seventy-five percent of the market for mixed-reality displays. The man who single-handedly saved the world last year from the Chaotica virus! Let me hear you give it up, for MISTER…ORESTE…PAAAAAAX!

The wall of sound that struck Pax as he stepped out from behind the curtain felt like a sonic boom, and the tightness in his chest immediately vanished. He jokingly staggered back a couple of steps and threw his arms up over his head, as if he were shielding himself from a storm. This only spurred the crowd on to be even louder, of course. He was grateful the earbuds in his UV dynamically canceled out up to forty decibels of sound.

He made his way slowly forward, first throwing one foot forward, waiting a moment, then the other, as if he was still fighting his way through a storm. The crowd noise abated somewhat as some people started laughing. Then he stood up and walked normally the last few steps to center stage. He grinned and waved as he looked out over the crowd. The number 6.7 billion popped into his head again, but he pushed it out of his mind and focused on the audience in front of him. He continued waving until the sound diminished, then he raised both hands up, palms out. When the crowd was fully quiet, he spoke.

Well, well! Thank you for that amazing welcome! And thank you for coming to OmniCon! You may all think that this is all old hat to me now after a decade, and that I don’t feel butterflies like I did the first time I took this stage. Back then, we had to rent out San Diego Symphony Hall because we had only just moved everything out of my garage and into our first offices. But it certainly helped that I got to announce that Omnitech had become the first company to make ten billion dollars in profit in its very first year!

The crowd cheered again.

But truthfully, I’m every bit as nervous now as I was back then, Pax continued. Back then, there were no expectations. Now there are—a few.

Pax chuckled, and the crowd laughed along with him. He pointed up, and an image of one of the first hand sketches he ever did