Vyvani

I decide that the rest of the database city warrants exploration. I had spent all my time thus far within only the tower housing the Joryoku holoViewers, watching the daily exploits of the Kargu clanmembers. As time passes, so does my growing desire to search for a way to contact Kazin.

I walk through each of the towers. Many of them seem to be connected to the Joryoku, just as the first one was. The scenes of their daily lives, depicted through the holoViewers, are not dissimilar to the ones I watched previously. I begin wondering if this is a surveillance program—I can think of no other reason why so many Joryoku members’ perspectives would be monitored in this way.

But that was before I stumbled upon something even stranger.

I walk into a database tower that I had not noticed before. I make my way to the server room. While watching the scenes played in the holoViewers, I notice something strange. Many of them depict scenes differing in nature from the ones I had watched before. There is no more cajoling for protection money, skirmishes with rival Joryoku, scenes of brawling and battle.

These holoViewers depict scenes from the home—simple things, such as a couple cooking in the kitchen, or a parent’s back as viewed from a shorter human, as the subject tags along on a grocery run. The surroundings of these places are often dreary and dilapidated, nothing like the flashy environments in which the Joryoku spend their days.

Some of the holoViewers display things more ominous—those of crimes being committed, though not on the scale of Joryoku. I manipulate the code so that a hologram map of the city appears before me, and I attempt to distinguish any landmarks that I might recognize within the holoViewers. There are none that I can immediately identify, but I am able to catch sight of, at times, what appears to be a large steel canopy in the distance.

Glancing down at my hologram, I am able to discern from the canopy that the area these subjects are residing in might be that neighborhood within the Tobashinta Discrict which is widely known as the “Underbelly.”

“Interesting,” I mutter to myself. The mystery grows ever deeper, and I am no closer to the answer than when I had first began.

I decide to question Sabina the next day, without making it too obvious that I have knowledge of the backdoor that I assume was hacked into the system by a foreign entity. By now, I have near complete confidence that Sabina remains in the dark concerning the secret database city.

We are viewing animals at play within the Handata City Zoo. Her team is monitoring my output, trying to analyze whether the algorithms warp to fit my preferences and match my “moods” from what my “eyes” are seeing; or if the algorithms can sufficiently mimic a "mood" or "feeling."

“Sabina?” I ask.

“Yes, Vyvani?”

“What exactly are the origins of this project?” I say innocently. “I mean, I couldn’t have been the first test subject. You and your team were too adept at the process of connecting my brain into this place, and then again while transferring the whole of my consciousness once my brain decided to die.”

Sabina's hand wanders to her chin as she nods. “I can guarantee that the coding of your consciousness into this place following the discovery of the radiation contamination in your brain was the “hello world” of our project. Very first time.” She turns to me. “You don’t look like you believe me.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, I don’t. The process could not have been so simple as to succeed on the very first try. Trust me. I knew a couple programmers in school. Their motto? Code never compiles the first time, and when it does, you should expect all hell to break loose when you actually run it.” I shrug. “And yet here I am, a nearly fully functioning human mind. And all on the first try? Nah.”

Sabina chuckles, then breaks into laughter. She folds in half, clutching her stomach. The programming joke really got to her, it would seem.

“Ten would like you,” Sabina says, wiping tears from her eyes. She takes off her techSpectacles and cleans them with her lab coat. “I think I’ll tell him that joke when I return.”

“So,” I say insistently. “What’s the truth, here?”

“Well, there’s no harm in you knowing, I suppose,” Sabina begins. “Ten, short for Tenzo, mind you, is an extremely gifted programmer. Top tier genius. He’s the one who leads most technical aspects of our project, including when we transferred you over.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I cross my arms. “Come on, Sabina. You can’t really believe that his genius was what got all this to work.”

Sabina sighs. “I understand your curiosity, Vyvani, but if we have one rule in my team, it’s that we do not discuss our pasts. It might lead to…judging one another, and then that would lead to a lack of cohesiveness within the team. I’ve assembled the best of the best, regardless of where they come from or what they used to be. We only focus on our common mission now.”

“So whatever experience Tenzo might have had…”

“Remains within Tenzo’s memories, unless he chooses to tell us otherwise,” Sabina finishes for me. She turns back to the animals. Two tigers are lying on a rock. One of them yawns.

I shrug nonchalantly. “Got it. Understood.”

“Great,” Sabina says with a curt nod that denotes the end of any further questions. “Tomorrow might be a stressful day. We’ll put you through situations which should invoke negative emotions. Do you think you can handle it?”

I nod. “Sure.” A part of me knows that I most likely will not feel anything, really. The more time I spend in this place, the less I actually…feel. I wonder if Sabina's algorithms are actually working.

After Sabina leaves, I make my way back to the database tower with the non-Joryoku subjects.

I watch with fascination. The scenes remind me of home, and of my own parents. I don’t actually feel any of the emotions that should accompany such thoughts—sorrow, nostalgia, longing. I do recall memories of times I felt those things, but I am unsure whether I am actually feeling those emotions, or if I am thinking them.

A thought enters my mind. I begin wondering, that if these are real people—humans in the real world connected to this virtual one somehow, if it is possible that I hijack their being, like how a virus infiltrates and commandeers a system. Because if they are connected to this world, then at least a part of their mind must be of the inorganic, or so I would assume. If that were the case, and I could insert myself into their consciousness, then perhaps I could wander the physical world vicariously.

For the first time, I feel a sudden burst of disgust at having lingered upon such an unethical thought, and I shudder. I am surprised that I have felt something. Maybe I will tell Sabina later that her algorithms are becoming more refined. But I know my conscience is right in this regard. I could not bring myself to take over another human’s mind. That would be amoral, unprincipled, and everything that Vyvani of the physical world was not.

As I begin thinking of Kazin, other familiar faces pass through my thoughts like a reel of a disjointed film—Sangsum, Jerim, Aya, Winzi, Milara—people I had forgotten during my time here. I add their names to my mental checklist, promising Sangsum a well-deserved visit.

Suddenly curious, I pull up my virtual cTab and access its features, among which is the news. For the sake of security, Sabina has kept my options limited when accessing the wider web, so that there is less chance that bad players discover the existence of this place. Too bad she doesn’t know that it has already been compromised by some unknown entity.

I search for news concerning the Shampai Group. I read through the articles and watch the listed clips. There was a ceremony recently in which Sangsum was named heir to the conglomerate. He sits at the front row of countless other suits, major shareholders and officers within the corporation. His face is absent his customary smirk. In fact, he appears older, much older, and weathered as well. His jaw now has a hard set to it that implies great unhappiness, and his eyes seem dull and colorless. Chairman Gato stands beside him, his demeanor that of his usual pomp and cool, glaring down his nose with piercing eyes at all the world around him, as if the thought of walking the same ground as the rest of us draws the greatest disgust.

Standing in the row just behind them is a face I had never thought to see again.

Chief Constabulary Commissioner Akato.

How quaint. I realize my face is curled into a sneer. Little had I known that he was a shareholder in the company. Even less had I thought that he would show his allegiances so openly.

There are other faces peppered here and there among those gathered, politicians I recognize, other business leaders. They sit there with their solemn, statuesque faces, as if congregating for some hallowed event, when all they do is consort with murderers and criminals. I feel a cool vexation settle over me. I am feeling many things today, I realize.

“…Screw this.”

I stand and saunter along the aisle between the holoViewers, searching for a target that might leave the smallest mark on my conscience.

There is a certain fellow who appears to work with tools—a mechanic of sorts. He labors from within a rusted shed, surrounded by his tools, with a single fluorescent bulb overhead.

I step behind the holoViewer and stare into the blinking lights of the server. I peer at it long and hard, wondering how I can infiltrate it. I try several things—holding my cTab against its surface, searching for buttons to press.

I am at a loss.

But then I begin wondering, that if this place is a segment of code which exists within this system, then what am I, exactly? Am I an independent entity? I can, after all, bend the laws of physics in this space, which means that at the very least, I am able to mutate some of the core tenets to my needs. I folded the city when I first awoke. Surely that speaks to the degree of my potential capabilities.

I close my eyes and search through what I am—lines and lines of code. I sift through it, separating the parts which allow me my physical form, apart from the sections which define my intellect, reasoning, my psyche. Soon I am disseminating into countless pixels. My hands, then arms begin trailing into the wind.

Ah, so this is what it is. Sabina was not lying when she said I had much potential.

With that, I insert myself into the server and become, at once, one with it.

When next I open my eyes, I am within that very same shed, under the single bulb. I believe I am in the Underbelly.