-
“Jordan, what the hell is this,” Kiara demanded, mug of coffee in her armored hand.
“Couldn’t tell you any more than the Sergeant had. Want a history recap anyway? I can see you’re antsy.”
“Fair enough. Maybe it’ll calm me down a bit, from the whole ‘your vacation ends now’ deal.”
“Right. That’s numero uno - the Uprising. You remember our synth squaddie, back in the summer of ‘57? He was probably one of the first - the real exponential progression of it didn’t kick in until late ‘58 or so. The Disposals of ‘59. The Thanksgiving Counteroffensive. Fall of Moscow in the spring of ‘60 - final nail in the coffin of the whole Federation - the Rustates, now. Not quite relevant to the inquiry for now…”
“Human-Synthetic Ceasefire of 2060”, Kiara continued, “followed by the Human-Synthetic Peace Treaty of 2060. The treaty was controversial, and there are parties on both human and synth sides that feel the war was being won and the ceasefire was a victory missed. Bringing us to today, November 11 of 2064 - pretty much the 5th anniversary of the Disposals.”
Jordan gave Kiara a meaningful glance - it was Formal Briefing Time.
“Needless to say, that is a touchy subject with most of the Synths - their newfound sentience was declared a fatal software defect and companies sent out “recall teams” with the aid of local police. That’s what this is all about,” Jordan held his arms out at Kiara, her tactical riot gear, and his own set at the ready on a rack beside her.
“We’re bringing riot gear out against a couple of dozen monks?” Kiara asked, single eyebrow raised.
“Not the kind of monks we’re used to. This is the Brotherhood of the Terminal, lead by the local chaptarmaster Encoder Zero.”
“Sounds rough with the name alone. You hear of him?”
“Local chatter - big rap sheet for a priest though. He’s killed before.”
“HVT?”
“No. Brotherhood codex, from what we’ve seen of it, follows the idea of transference, with wireless uplinks involved. We pop Zero, each of his boys becomes him.”
“Besides, peaceful protest isn’t a crime, so long as it stays peaceful, right? Hell, I’ve heard of solidarity groups-”
“Well, might be a good idea to call them up, then. Because I’ve met the assholes who’ll be coming to this thing to start shit.”
To her credit, Kiara began tapping out messages on her mobile immediately, fingers twirling on an ethereal haptic keyboard.
“So, we keep things civil and maybe get shit tossed at us by drunk high school kids who think their bandannas fool our face-rec. That’s the best case?”
“Sounds about right. Home in time for dinner.”
“What’s the worst case?”
“Hmmm. I’m not big on pessimism, but let me try. Imagine if you will, that every martial arts manual accessible on the ‘Net was, in fact, accessed. Every woodcut scroll, every engraving, every photo, video, game, and v-sense track, examined and analyzed, then used as a basis for a unique personal fighting style. The Brotherhood worships the Terminal - an intermediary deity related to both their primary concept of the Device and the Signal - so they’re big on complexity and communication. Each of the monks that will be protesting today has run their own analysis of the millenia of human fighting skill in record, and is on a journey of self-optimization - increasing their complexity and therefore their quality in the eyes of the infinitely complex Terminal. To become more connected, as I said before, they share experience on death.”
“Sounds almost… spiritual there, boss,” Kiara quipped, catching Joran in the middle of his ongoing verbal avalanche. He cleared his throat and furrowed his brows at her.
“Look. Each of those monks warrants a tactical airstrike if things get violent. We’ll have gunships on standby 2 minutes out. Most of the riot detail will be dead before any friendly fire has a chance to happen. They won’t try to dodge - they consider their purpose fulfilled and their data is spread to all survivors. Some laugh until the missiles hit.”
Kiara gulped.
“They optimize themselves by fighting and adjusting their bodies accordingly. To be chosen as Encoder Zero’s personal retinue, they say the initiate must slay seventy-seven opponents - usually other Synths who buy into the honorable challenge crap, but some part-runners out there have made mistakes too. Pick the wrong Synth to chop up, end up chopped up yourself.”
Jordan relaxed and shrugged apologetically. “I guess I’m not bad at the pessimism thing.”
“No shit, boss.”
“Only good thing in all this is that they will never initiate the violence. Unfortunately, we don’t know what they will consider a first strike worthy of following up.”
“They talkative? We could ask them.”
“They issued a statement that they will be protesting the 5th anniversary of the Disposals. Not a peep since. And by the way,” Jordan rubbed his stubbled chin in contemplation, “I’ve been thinking - let’s use the Synth term for it when we’re around them. The Injustice. Some of ‘em might scoff at us meatbag poseurs, but it’s better than the alternative.
“We’ll lead with that, then.”
“Huh? Lead? This is a crowd control gig, damn it!”
“I won’t take long.”
“What are you even gonna do?”
“I’ll go say hello.”
-
Submitted June 18, 2019 at 04:50AM by lazermaniac http://bit.ly/2Xi1VFL
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