It turns out the security division of Metamatics was willing to relax measures in the face of a sentient AI loose in Manila’s cyberspace. This implied—not to Bryce’s surprise—that R&D and Ms. Reed were not the only entities aware of the albularyo. It only served to piss Bryce off even more, as he wondered—not for the first time—if he owed Metamatics and its people anything.
But at the same time, the more relaxed measures allowed Bryce to see the face of every Black Fire tester they had recovered from the Laguna mansion after the raid. The Philippine government still wouldn’t release their names, and though Bryce had been lucky enough to find a tester out in the open before, he now wouldn’t know how to locate the others.
At least, not legally.
Herman Colose had slimmed down in the six months since Bryce had last seen him. It wasn’t like they were sharing selfies or video calling with each other, so the software engineer’s appearance came as a surprise. He had grown a beard, too, but not the kind you’d groom. It was patchy, longer in some places like a cat’s whiskers.
“You’re looking great,” Bryce told him. “You, uh… been working out?” Bryce didn’t remember the last time he worked out.
Herman looked down at himself as if his head was seeing a different body. “Yeah, that’s what people are saying.”
“Must feel nice.”
“Nah. Things have just been… tight lately. You know?”
“Tight?”
“Yeah.”
Herman was probably referring to money. Bryce felt awkward whenever someone brought up their money troubles. He couldn’t relate and almost regretted bringing it up. He had been comfortable since joining Metamatics, not to mention his payout from the Black Fire Laguna bust.
“It’s just that,” Herman continued, “since these security probes, we’ve had to do a lot of unpaid overtime. Fuckers got me sleeping under my desk. I feel like Elon Musk, only not the CEO. I’m working just as much.”
Bryce huffed. “Meanwhile, Ms. Reed is working from home in her penthouse.”
Herman smiled at me, and I felt a little better. It took my mind off everything. Maybe that’s what he needed too. “Imagine you could prevent something awful from happening,” I said.
“Seems like a moral imperative.”
Bryce explained what was happening, omitting anything about the albularyo’s involvement, though by then, it wasn’t hard for the software engineer to put the pieces together. Herman seemed to care less about whether a sentient AI was involved and more about the technical specifications.
“I understand your concerns,” Herman tried to assure Bryce, “but there’s no way to confirm she’s specifically involved. There are bugs in route patterns all the time. It’s all software. You know that.”
Bryce knew that, but he couldn’t shake that foreboding. Even as he looked up to the sky through the window of the software engineering lab, he thought he saw black specks dotting the clouds. He was still on the ground, powerless.
“What about the other testers?” he asked Herman. “Is there any way we can identify them?”
The software engineer prattled his fingers together. “Do you want my official answer or the real answer?”
“Both.”
“Alright. The official answer is no. We don’t keep surveillance footage for longer than it takes to send to the government, so there’s nothing we can do with that. The real answer is mostly the same. Technically, it’s not lying.” Bryce urged Herman to continue, and the software engineer said, “Instead, we keep metadata.”
That’s when Herman showed Bryce the tables, databases, logs, and even some basic analytics of the movements of the Black Fire testers.
“If I were to say this is not being used to inform the field agents of Black Fire in Manila, then I’d be lying,” said Herman. “At least, that’s what I think. It’s not surveillance, more like… journaling.”
Bryce clenched his fists. They were different names for the same thing. He could blow a whistle and throw this whole company under for all the infractions it caused, but even if he did, what good would that do? It wouldn’t bring him closer to the albularyo at all. In fact, if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to leverage the vast array of resources the company offered him. He’d be back at square one, and the problem wouldn’t be fixed.
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Still, even in this city, there had to be alternatives to surveillance. If he relied on that footage to find people to ask about the albularyo, he’d be nothing more than Atienza’s government. And there was no way he would stoop that low.
Herman was already sifting through the news as if reading Bryce’s mind. When he opened an article and spun the projection towards Bryce, he uttered, “Holy shit.”
***KALAWANG KINGPIN FOUND***
“Some youth gang,” Herman explained, reading down. “Apparently, they’ve been after this guy for a while. Let his guard down in Alabang… of all places.” The software engineer exhaled. “This isn’t extra-judicial or anything. The guy just slipped up. Apparently. Funny how people can do that.”
The story explained the heroic efforts of the quickly responding field agents and PNP officers in apprehending a man known colloquially as Teejay. Yet, was it a coincidence that a gang’s leader had been caught soon after the Giants had implemented surveillance recording on the capture drones?
Malacañang can use the footage, Bryce thought. Lucky bastards.
Manila was genuinely becoming a surveillance state.
----------------------------------------
After leaving the software engineering labs, Bryce found a locker on the same floor containing samples of Black Fire. He picked Starship Horizon—a show he had a cursory knowledge of. It was one of Black Fire’s most popular series, right behind The Crest and Its Killers, which was now complete. Maybe that was only a marketing stunt, and The Crest would return with a second season. There certainly seemed enough material for it.
Black filled Bryce’s night as he dropped Black Fire again and again, fast-forwarding each episode. Some of its UI elements were changing, and there was now a menu where he could select which show he wanted to watch, though there was only one option matching whatever cartridge you loaded. The features seemed like the shell of something greater to come. At the time, he didn’t notice.
After eight hits of Black Fire, Bryce wasn’t any closer to seeing the albularyo. She usually would have hijacked his sessions, but this time, she didn’t bother. She could be dead, for all he knew.
When the sessions began to make his head spin, he opted to walk to his condo in Bonifacio Global City from the Metamatics Makati office. The trip was over an hour, giving him enough time to clear his head, even in the sweltering heat. The blistering lights of gridlock traffic pulled his thoughts away. He wandered through a maze of a dozen connected malls, absorbing upbeat clothing store lounge music and wafts of grilled meat from food courts. He hunched his shoulders and kept his usual sunglasses and hat outfit on, hoping it would keep him out of the limelight, at least for now.
The Greenbelt Mall was a seven-story mixed residential and retail space with an opening in its center for green space. Bryce walked through its center, passing someone sitting on a bench wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. They looked like they were just about to attend their midnight shift at a call center. Bryce wouldn’t have thought anything of them until they rose and approached him.
“Mr. Desmond, right?” said the man. He was pure Filipino, moreno, and probably around 40 years old.
Bryce shrugged. He didn’t want to seem like an asshole. This person might have recognized his Inspiration from the Laguna raid footage, though the idea of people following Bryce around sickened him. There were indeed many better things to do.
“Yup,” Bryce conceded. “I’m kind of in a rush. Sorry.”
The man did not remove his glasses. He just smirked. “I think I can speed that along.” Then, something weirder. “You are looking for answers?”
Bryce frowned. “Aren’t we all?”
That earned a laugh from the strange man. “Answers only information can provide.” He stressed that word, but the man continued when Bryce didn’t catch on. “They’re waiting for you.”
What kind of cryptic bullshit was this? Bryce started walking away, then stopped. He tried to look surprised while his heart pumped at twice its speed. “Who?”
“You know who.” The man followed Bryce. “Come on. They don’t like waiting. They’re swamped.”
The man was probably a whole foot shorter than Bryce. Bryce could have him on the ground in seconds if he pulled anything. He almost thought about doing that and asking him what he knew. But that wasn’t necessary. They both knew.
Bryce followed the man to a car park, where a fleet-mode sedan waited. The man flicked an app on his phone, and all the doors opened, revealing no one inside—as if that was any consolation.
“The course is already plotted,” said the man, “but unfortunately, I can’t show you it.”
Bryce sniffed. “I can just stay awake the whole time and look out the window to see where you are.”
“No, you can’t. I can’t even do that.” The man didn’t hold a vape or anything. The threat seemed misplaced, distant, and weak. “If you want to see them, we do it this way.”
Bryce could feel a bead of sweat running down his neck. This could all be a trap. He’d be stupid to do this. He shouldn’t. “Yeah, right, buddy,” he said, showing the man his experimental weapon.
The man looked at the gun. “They said you would be hesitant to come.” The man folded his arms, seeming unphased by the weapon. “They know you.”
This was some fuckery Bryce wasn’t aware of. His thoughts began to mix. Someone was messing with him. “Prove it,” he said.
“Alright.” The man looked at the car park’s ceiling in thought. “You owe them an apology.”
Bryce froze, his entire world seizing up. It seemed every car and commuter in the city stopped moving. There was only one person Bryce owed an apology to.
He stepped into the car, taking the backseat, the man in the driver’s seat. The windows turned to maximum tint as the auto-drive mode kicked in, turning the wheel and pulling them gently into the street.
Moments later, something hissed, and a pink gas began leaking into the interior. Bryce thought about fighting it but considered it like going under into Black Fire. His eyes closed as he drifted off and thought of how to phrase the apology.