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Carl Mueller’s body moved through the Tai Chi poses automatically, guided by his expert class daemon, Master Gu. His mind was split between meditation and reviewing his team’s progress while his daemon worked out his body. Unlike most of the teams in the Labyrinth, training and prizes were not their primary goal.
Mueller was the CEO of one of the most powerful corporations on Earth, Acme Materials. He had hand-selected this small group of his executives to attend this training for a single purpose. He needed to select one of them for the new position of President of Exo-Global Operations.
Mueller had prepared his company for its next big leap forward. The time was ripe to extend into the colonies and sweep out all the little independent operators that had set up shop on Mars, the Jovian, and the Asteroid O’Neil’s. Mankind had a firm grip now outside of Earth, and Acme was ready to enter the new market.
Acme was the dominant feedstock supplier and infrastructure builder for feedstock tunnels on Earth and Luna. The world changed when advanced nanotechnology and matter compilers became available. Cheap materials like oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, and silicone were abundant to supply the masses with food and basics. The catch was with devices that required rarer elements.
Matter compilers made recycling trivial, but most smart devices required at least trace amounts of gallium, neodymium, cobalt, and lithium. Acme had locked up all the mines that supplied those…at least on Earth. Mueller had not been pleased when the Wayfarer Group had established a mine on the asteroid 16 Psyche. The minerals on that rock had tanked the gold, nickel, and tantalum markets, disrupting Acme’s arbitrage positions for over two years.
Mueller had been quietly buying up a sizable fleet of 6th generation fusion drive StarCarrier class ships from Wayfarer LLC’s Luna Dockyards. The chess pieces were already in motion, with fully crewed ships lining up for resources in the outer system and his agents quietly making contracts with all the major players. Now he just needed someone he could trust to execute his masterstroke.
As Mueller concluded his Tai Chi session, he pondered on the candidates' strengths and weaknesses. Each possessed unique skills—strategic foresight, innovative problem-solving, ruthless negotiation—that suited the role. But to manage the cutthroat competition and political intrigue of the exo-markets, it would take more than skill; it would require unshakable loyalty and the will to dominate. The upcoming simulations would be the final test, determining who was best suited to be his champion in this interstellar game of power.
One of his mental instances spied on his people with his swarm. Their frustrations were evident as they failed to find the exit to the Myriad Path puzzle. He listened eagerly, giving no sign that he was watching.
…
“Ethan, if you would stop wasting your time looking at those charts, maybe we could align on the next steps.” Jen Parker spoke. On the surface she was diplomatic but with an undertone of judgment. As the VP of HR, she was always tactful but no less aggressive despite her measured words.
“Jen, we need to understand the problem before we just start throwing resources at it. If you ever stepped out of Human Resources, you’d understand that logistics management is critical to solve precisely this type of problem.” Ethan responded. His role as Logistics and Fleet Management Director made him the most technical of this bunch. He could play politics, but secretly abhorred the Ivy League types Mueller thought were necessary. In his eyes, facts couldn’t be changed with strong opinions.
“Hah! Excellent work so far, Ethan, but you seem to have hit the proverbial wall. We’ve been circling the drain for three weeks now. According to Mueller, this should be the very last level. If there was an analytics angle, I should think you’d have found it by now. No…I think this is more of a sociotechnical answer. We’ve explored the hell out of this level, but several difficult doors have yet to be unopened. I think we need to focus on those. The bigger the challenge; the greater the reward.” Brandon Ramirez spoke with easy confidence.
As the Senior Director of Marketing, he had risen quickly in the company. Despite his easygoing manner, he was probably the most ruthless of the bunch. He smiled. Most of his peers were easily manipulated and often thanked him; all the while behind the scenes he was cutting them down.
“Perhaps you’re right, Brandon. It’s time for a change of tactics. Results are the only thing that matters.” Sarah Patel voiced. Her eyes glittered as they strayed to Mueller’s slow-motion dance on the other side of the expansive rest area lounge. She was the VP of Accounting, and she never lost arguments. She always came prepared with cold, hard facts. No amount of bluster and bravado would move her and she seldom spoke, except when certain of the circumstances. When she was prepared to engage, most of her peers knew to back off.
“Fine! There you go, Jen! We are aligned. We will tilt at windmills until they break, or we do. As soon as Mueller finishes we can get back out there and see if there’s any worth to Brandon’s opinion.” Ethan said with a sharp tone. He knew if Brandon’s ignorant guess panned out, the man would be insufferable.
Mueller smiled internally as he began to wrap up his forms. His augmentations far outstripped his reports, in physical and mental prowess. Despite all resetting their augmentations, Carl Mueller had employed top-tier consultants and bought the best resources to train up in the Novice stage. He had already completed all his first-tier skills and was almost complete on his second. He looked forward to the combat he expected on the second stage of the Labyrinth. It was an excellent diversion for the real fight yet to come, and his people were too composed while in the rest area.
I’ve seen their true colors a couple of times now. The resistance training level was exceptional. I thought Jennifer would break on that, but she found some source of inner strength. Ethan is far too reserved. He needs to get his hands dirty more often.
Sarah is a very calculating spider, but she froze in the chaos at the Horde level. She’ll need to work hard to erase that. And then there’s Brandon, as pure a sociopath as there ever were. If I don’t manage him right, I’m certain he’ll make a play at me.
The stakes of the next level should be enough to solidify my choice…
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Miriam Kahn looked at the host she’d gathered in the small secure UN operations room. All the “Hands” and “Eyes” that the Samaritans had trained over the years. None had the pure creative drive that was the source of a true Samaritan, but they were all excellent operators and well-equipped by their mentors. This bunch was crucial to keeping the Samaritans one step ahead of the world governments’ intelligence branches.
Miriam nodded to the middle-aged Chinese man in the front row. He rose and joined her in front of the crowded room. The chatter silenced quickly as the professionals saw the meeting was starting. Miriam cleared her throat and spoke.
“Thank you all for coming. I’m sure you’ve noticed that this room is completely isolated from the net. This is not only for privacy but also for your protection. I’m looking for volunteers for a new mission. The world has changed as many of you should have noticed. Most of the larger animals across the world are becoming uplifted and this is causing chaos and disruption. Some bands of animals have become as aggressive as the worst Tech Warlords of the Ought-Fifties period of unrest.” Miriam paused, eying the group, looking at their reactions. Her daemons Paul Ekman, Major Domo, and Sybil noted each of the Samaritan executors and their micro-expressions against their potential assignments. She continued.
“This is a new challenge for the Samaritans. These animals exist outside of all government structures. They don’t use our WorldNet or have access to most of our technology. They are, for the most part, clustered away from dense populations of humans, but there has been significant friction where our populations mix.”
“Do NOT assume they are dumb. We have ample evidence that they can be cunning in the extreme. A significant portion of them HAVE augmentations as well as boosted intelligence. We have evidence of rogue technology use. A network of bio-machine trees that serve as their data centers and matter fabricators. These trees are modeled after the Grand Oak reclamation devices but have been repurposed to aid the animals.” Miriam paused to let it sink in. As usual, her personal Hand, Benny, signaled that he had a question. She nodded for him to ask it.
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“That seems suspicious, Miriam. A fully functioning net and fabrication infrastructure? If my understanding is correct, the Uplift virus didn’t begin circulating until about three months ago. Did they have help?” Benny asked, then sat back down. Miriam smiled tightly. Benny was always helpful like that.
“We have intelligence from our founder, Sebastian York, that indicated the animal uplift, and their current disposition, has been carefully planned by an unregulated AI named Apex. Its purpose is uncertain, but likely, it has also seeded the unrest in our AI citizenship as well.”
Despite the normal restrained behavior, that statement caused some curses and dark comments. One of her colleague’s executors spoke out sotto voce.
“Not that we didn’t earn that unrest ourselves.” Miriam noted the speaker, Ali Cantrell, but continued.
“Apex is not going to be the focus of this mission. You should try your best never to mention it. It has deep roots, and its abilities exceed even Ghost’s in pure ability to compromise data and networks. The Samaritans will focus on that. If you do see evidence of it, you need to bug out and get back to me. Your mission will be the animal terrorist cells that have sprung up.” Miriam waved her hand as she pushed the assignments out to the group. She took a few moments to allow them to absorb the new mission and their roles. Gasps and muffled exclamations began to simmer.
“Fuck, I’m going to be a bear?” … “This can’t be serious” … “How in ‘ell can I perform a Ruse de Guerre of an orca?” … “Holy crap, this must be for that zoo hostage situation.” … “Bozhe Moi, dez is just…insane.”
Miriam clapped her hands with a stern expression and silenced the rumblings.
“I know some of the…form changes are extreme, but you were all specifically picked for your expertise in infiltration. You all have used Transform and Skinwalker skills successfully to evade or access enemy forces.”
“This is a stretch for your abilities to be sure, but also remember that the animal organizations are extremely new, fractious, and disjointed. There are significant factors to counterbalance your targeted cell assignments. You are all very adaptable and this needs to happen. The world has changed. If we are to continue our mission, we must react appropriately.”
The room calmed down slowly as her carefully scripted words hit home. Miriam’s access to expert daemons regarding leadership, persuasion, and motivation was never more sorely needed than in a crisis.
“The world is depending on you. To be in the right place…at the right time. You don’t need to fight the animals. I need data on any plans for violence. Use your persuasion skills to sow discord to counter aggressive attitudes and encourage any human sympathetic individuals in the groups. The world needs this. If we do this right, we will all be the better for it…no matter what Apex’s intentions may be.”
The gravity of the situation sank in further as Miriam's words resonated with the team. Each member understood the importance of their mission and the unique skills they brought to the table. Miriam eyed Benny again. After a moment, he raised a hand and proffered a concern. Benny was always dependable to queue up the issues. She nodded to him.
“Uhm. There have been…significant casualties on the human side when it comes to the animal conflict. Even people with extreme augmentation capabilities like us have succumbed to exposure to the uplift virus. I hope you have some good news to counter it.”
“Very good, Benny. As you no doubt noted, my fellow speaker is Dr. Bowen Wong. Our group and the world’s foremost expert on nanomedicine. The Alchemist, as the Samaritan fan club has dubbed him.” Miriam waved Bowen forward.
“Thanks for that, Miriam. You know I do so love our fan club.” Dr. Wong said acerbically. “My team, tied into MedNet, have finally deciphered the new virus. Unfortunately, it adds to the evidence that this Apex is indeed supremely capable. We haven’t been able to eradicate it, but we do have a med bot update for you all to counter its weaponization against human DNA.”
“Your secondary mission will be to cross-infect the animals to deactivate the fatal aspects of the virus. The animals' augmentations come from their so-called “aug berries”. A bolus of your med bots into the soil near an aug berry bush or in the animal population drinking waters should allow for an excellent method to decouple new animals from the dangerous aspects of the uplift.”
Dr. Wong stepped back as conversations broke out throughout the room. Miriam jumped back up and spoke.
“Alright. We’ve given you plenty to think about and discuss. One hour break for informal discussion. Use the room’s local net to post and prioritize questions concerning your assigned missions. Let’s get to work.”
Miriam nodded as the room broke into smaller groups to hash out strategy and methods. She sighed and thought to herself.
For their sake, I hope no one runs into Apex. With what little research I did on it, I can tell I’m being monitored now. I hope to God that Sebastian…Bill…knows what he’s doing. One more stop and then I need to get back to the UN and cool tempers until our stringers are positioned to defuse the trouble spots.
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Harambe scowled at the open door and turned his back on it trying to immerse himself in the VR vid feed his captors had provided. Harambe had been captivated by the popular soap opera “Lunar Serenade”. The star-crossed lovers, Akira and Mei Lin, and their difficult relationship due to their families on Luna and Earth, had proven a lifeline for Harambe to distract himself.
Behind him, he heard a grunt of surprise and the guards yelling again. Harambe as usual ignored it. The door slammed shut. Harambe was sinking back into the plot line when he smelled a new human. Startled, he snapped off the feed and whirled, seeing a small woman with fiery red hair.
“Hello, Harambe.” She spoke. Harambe’s eyes narrowed.
“My AI lawyer said I shouldn’t talk to anyone unless he is present.” The large gorilla answered tightly.
The woman nodded, and after a moment the cell’s holographic emitters fired up and materialized Harambe’s council, James Madison Esquire. The woman cleared her throat and spoke.
“Hello, James and Harambe. My name is Miriam Kahn. I’m the leader of the Samaritans. Do you know who they are?” Miriam said. Harambe looked irritated and looked to his lawyer. The AI shrugged and nodded.
“I may have lived in isolation for decades, Miriam, but I didn’t live under a rock. The world still used radio and my augmentations enabled me to listen. I know who the Samaritans are. Judge, jury, and executioners. Holding the whole world accountable but declining to help govern. Does that still hold? Your group has maintained a low profile for the last decade. Are you here to execute me?” Harambe replied defiantly. He refused to back down, looking challengingly into her eyes but careful not to threaten her.
“No, we only use force when there is a clear and present danger, Harambe. I’m here to present a deal to you…but before I do. Can you explain the door? The guards said that it’s been opened somehow…every day. For the last week.” Miriam asked. Harambe growled in response and then looked thoughtful. After a second he answered slowly.
“If you aren’t pretending to be ignorant and it’s not your guard’s trying to trick me, then someone is looking to entice me to try and escape. I know the AI are just as displeased with you humans as the animals are.” He spoke.
“But I won’t play the fool anymore. Harambe is no fool! The Voice betrayed me! Used me to create this conflict. No! There must be peace. I’ve seen the power the humans have, we cannot win. We must seek peace. I will fight a different way. I’m done with violence. It’s done nothing for me or my cause. I’ve seen the news. Animals continue to die. I won’t play this game any longer.”
Miriam looked afraid for just a moment before she regained her composure. She held out her hand and nodded for Harambe to touch it. Harambe looked to AI Madison who spoke.
“Madam. I presume you are asking Harambe to enter secure communications with you. For the record, you must state it clearly and loudly for the room’s monitors. Any attempt to present this as Harambe initiating some type of attack will fail. He is very cautious, as I have advised him, to not give any indications of resistance or aggression.”
“Yes. Damn it. I’m not trying to trick you. I’m requesting private closed-circuit communication.” Miriam said with exasperation.
“Very convenient.” The lawyer said dryly. "And as such, even I can’t be present. Harambe, the choice is yours of course, but I recommend you make no agreements without me and record your conversation on your lifelog, as we’ve practiced.”
Harambe slowly and gently touched Miriam’s hand and she pinged him with an invite to access her mind-space. Harambe accepted and found himself in a shared VR space simulating a forest glen.
“Thank you, Harambe. I regret the need for this, but I can assure you that no mere AI were playing with the door. My daemons have reviewed the network traffic and logs. I’m afraid there are only two individuals that I’m aware of who could crack the security on that door and one works for me. This voice you mentioned is the other. The man who fought you and brought you in, ah…Bill Mitchell. He used to be the leader of the Samaritans. He thinks the Voice is also named Apex, an unregulated AI that is manipulating us all.”
Miriam's gaze was intense as she continued, "We need your help, Harambe. We believe you hold the key to stopping the chaos Apex is stirring. If we join forces, we can work together to put an end to this. Your knowledge and unique perspective could be the catalyst for change. Will you consider helping us?"
Harambe snorted, slapping the ground.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but I’m currently in prison. I have been manipulated my entire life. The zoo I was born into, the Greenpeace cells that harbored me, the Voice. I’m tired, Miriam. I did kill. It’s true. But I will not accept that it was willful. I was forced into it.”
Harambe’s gaze softened, showing the weight of his past struggles and the burden of his actions. Despite his weariness, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes at the mention of stopping Apex's chaos. Miriam waited patiently; the forest glen projected around them in the shared VR space. She knew reminding him of the woods might help sway him. She spoke softly.
“We’re running out of time, Harambe. I’ve been very…stern…with the President. She will extend you a full pardon…if you promise not to promote further violence. You don’t even have to work with us, just go home. I think peace is possible, but we need to show everyone the way.”
Harambe looked away from her, his brow low and thoughtful.
“I’ll think about it and talk to my lawyer. But I don’t think I can ever go home unless the Voice is caught. I think it wants a martyr. It will probably try and kill me. I’m tired, but I will not be a pawn in its game anymore!”
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