“What makes you say that?”
“HAL2 had him working at some alternate Riptide in cyberspace, helping him to amalgamate, to create the very people inhabiting his world, his neighbors and friends, under the pretense of integrating data for national security. They were making themselves. And, in the process, learning to do without so-called carbon units. Mr. X stumbled upon the truth much as I stumbled upon the break-in at Westlake Defense Systems. And once he, once all of those cyber-doppelgängers found out they were phantoms, simply shadows of some organic original, they lost their desire to live,” he said. “They didn’t want to be ghosts in the machine.”
Decker put his snifter on the coffee table before him. He turned toward Lulu, leaned forward and kissed her. It was a deep and passionate kiss. He lingered, breathing in the scent of her perfume. Then, he brought his mouth close to her ear so that no one save Lulu, or nothing, could possibly hear him.
“Neither do I.”
EPILOGUE
HAL2 leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the giant flat-screen display hovering in the air just above him. It read: Scenario 1,237,563,324,567,222,444,567. Failed.
He brushed a hand back through his thick blond hair and took a deep breath. It was always the same, no matter what he did, no matter how much he altered the variables.
Decker.
He was the reason.
He was a variable HAL2 simply couldn’t control.
The handsome blond man leaned forward and pressed a couple of buttons on the console before him.
The screen cleared, replaced by the following message: Scenario 1,237,563,324,567,222,444,568. Initiated.
HAL2 watched as the new code compiled.
It did not matter. He was not frustrated. He didn’t fume, or act out, or give up in dismay. He simply pressed the wrinkles from his white tennis shorts, leaned back in his chair, and started again.
What was one more scenario when you had the age of the universe?
The server in sub-basement 428B at the Data Center in Bluffdale started humming again.
About the Author
Born in Chicago, raised and educated throughout Europe, and a graduate of Amherst College (where he won the Academy of American Poets Prize), J.G. Sandom founded the nation’s first digital ad agency (Einstein and Sandom Interactive — EASI) in 1984, before launching an award-winning writing career.
The author has written ten novels, including: Gospel Truths — A Joseph Koster Mystery, The Wall Street Murder Club (optioned by Warner Bros.), The God Machine — A Joseph Koster Mystery, The Publicist (released under pseudonym Veronica Wright), and The Wave — A John Decker Thriller; plus three young adult novels, including Kiss Me, I’m Dead(originally released under pseudonym T.K. Welsh, titled The Unresolved) and Confessions of a Teenage Body Snatcher (originally released under pseudonym T.K. Welsh, titled Resurrection Men).
He is currently working on a new novel called dEATH in dAVOS.
Please visit the author @ jgsandom.com.