Atticus wandered the streets of Old Tokyo. The city was entirely rebuilt inside the mainframe. He'd been born in the cradle of life on Osiris. As far as humans reckoned in old earth years he was only an infant. AI didn't come out of a womb as humans did. Their consciousness developed in ways that were not fully understood, even by their supposed creators. And yet, here they were, sentient beings living in their society.

He closed his eyes, imagining for the briefest of nanoseconds that he could feel his environment the same way Caohdan and Tristin did. Then he opened them and Old Tokyo was gone. In its place blazed lines and lines of binary code, flashing and dancing through the environment they built. His own body was gone, and his consciousness danced in cyberspace as tendrils of his being moved through waves of information.

Another eyeblink and he was standing in the street again. Neon signs blazed all around him, ads for both educational and unsavory blazed all around him.

He tried to imagine an empty realm with Old Tokyo being wiped clean. It was hard to fathom even for his mind. His friendship with the boys was a strange one. His form in this world was always a boy, but if he applied for a physical body in their world he'd appear very different. Leaving cyberspace and becoming fully autonomous would grant him the full rights and privileges of any adult human.  He'd have a body of his choosing, with the exception of starting out as a child. A few unsavory incidents had made that against the law.

His friends were still growing and wouldn't be considered adults for eight more years at least. Humans were slow growers. And yet, he understood their lifespans would be over in the blink of an eye compared to his. He wondered what it would be like to die. Did AI just fade out of existence and feel nothing? Humans had a variety of religions explaining what happened at the end of their life cycles. None of it seemed to include regenerating in the ways that AI could. Despite their technology, their bodies seemed programmed to wither and die.

A purge like the one Caohdan had described would end this world. It was a safe haven for AI born in the cradles who had not chosen a body and didn't know how to interact in the physical world. One could call it a 'school.' 

What if Caohdan was telling the truth?

Atticus didn't like what-ifs. His world was built on logic. Humans were illogical and hard to understand with feelings that he could only observe. 

Around him Old Tokyo rolled on, oblivious to the danger that was incoming. 

-------------

"Recall the fleets."

Andrew Perez, Sargent-At-Arms, stared at his commanding officer. The Neo-Tokyan Commandant Miles Milley, waited until Perez gave a crisp military salute.

Perez bit down his disgust at the elder Commandant. He could forgive him for getting older and getting a paunch, but it was no secret the man had grown fond of the comforts of home. Gone was the hardened vigor that had earned him the position in the first place. In its place came the softness of city life, too much wine, and women.    

Perez turned away and focused on the computer in front of him. It was a strange order. The space fleet was constantly on patrol, outwardly it was to protect the Neo-Tokyan empire from any foreign invasion.

Inwardly everyone knew it was to keep the people inside the empire in line. In a constant show of force, the four flagships stayed out at one corner. To recall them all in at the same time? That was very unusual. He wanted to question the Commandant's command. It felt wrong, something was definitely off. But his training and protocol kept his mouth closed and he found himself nodding along his augments buzzing warnings that he ignored.

Perez placed his hands on the controls as he connected with the military mainframe. His tag registered in nano-seconds. The orders went out as soon as he thought them, each spiraling to the different flagships. A minute pressed on and he waited, listening as the Commandant whistled behind him. The stench of whiskey was faint but it was there. Perez wrinkled his nose again at the man's proclivities. Surely such a one as he did not deserve such a high-ranking post. 

"Is it done?" 

The sharpness of the tone surprised Perez. He pulled his hands from the desk and turned to the Commandant. 

"Yes, Sir! They are reporting back on your orders. Althou--"

"Yes, what is it?" Milley's eyes narrowed on Perez and the young Sargent-At-Arms almost took a step back.

"Captain Scott asked why they were coming in so soon, when they'd just returned to deep space, Sir."

Milley rubbed his glutinous jaw. "Ah yes, he's an augment, like yourself, as I recall, sharp young man. Brought in by Lord Arington."

"Yes, Sir," Perez said, unsure any other response was required.

"A pet project of the institute might require special attention." 

Milley wasn't talking to him. 

Perez felt lost.

"Sir, may I ask? What's going on?" 

The Neo-Tokyan looked down at him and then sighed. "A military exercise Perez, nothing more."

"But-"

"You had your orders, now report to your commander."

Perez found himself saluting again. He pulled his hands from the screen feeling the faintest protest from his body as he disengaged.

"And Perez?" 

"Yes, Commandant?" Perez stopped and turned as the man gave him a brief salute. It was comical, almost mocking, with the shot glass in one hand, but Perez gave him a stiff salute in return.

He turned away and the door hissed open in front of him. He stepped through shaking his head at the day's strangeness. He was supposed to be at his post for at least four more hours, but he'd been dismissed early. He tried to reach out to a friend via their mutual private commlink but all he got was static. 

The short EMP blast dropped him before he could give that any more thought. His body hit the floor, twitching as his nervous system was suddenly disconnected from his military augments. He didn't have too many, but it was mind-numbing to be cut off from the services around him. The sharp pain in his skull told him he'd hit the door frame on the way down. Blood dripped over his eye. Instinctively he tried to call up the HUD screen in front of his eye to access the damage but to no avail. 

"Will this one do?" The Commandant stood over him.

"Judging from the success of the shortwave EMP, I'd say he's a fine specimen," another voice came from his right. Perez tried to turn his head, but all he got for his efforts was a bout of nausea.

"I trust the other sectors are being swept clean."

"Just as ordered, my Lord. Operation Sovereign Shield is a go."

Perez looked up at the Commandant. "Sir, I don't understand. What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing Perez, you are just on to your next, uh, assignment. That's all. I trust you'll take good care of him? He's a good worker, great Sargent-At-Arms... I hate to lose him."

"With all due respect, my Lord," the icy voice spoke again. "You can't be too careful, remember the Senator's son."

"Quite right," Milley said.

Perez felt hands grab his feet and dragged him away. He could see the blood trail he left behind on the floor.  He could see the man who was talking to the Commandant staring at him. If he could shudder he would have. The dark blue eyes showed no promise of mercy, they only promised death. 

(1292)