Network Neutrality, Pt. 2 – Hostile Takeover

“Silicon,” Ahab murmured, their beady eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s the meaning of this?” 

I gestured between us, constructing a pair of digital chairs which faced each other. “Why don’t you have a seat?” 

Ahab clenched their right hand, and red electricity crackled along their fist. “Forgive me if the circumstances haven’t put me in an amicable mood.” 

“Suit yourself.” I walked over to the chair facing Ahab, collapsing into it. “You know, it’s been a strange kind of hell living without a body. The virtual world has been a nice escape from that, though.” 

Glancing around, Ahab nodded. “It seems you’ve made quite a home for yourself, away from the real world.” 

“Real?” A chuckle escaped my throat, and I stifled it. “Please, Ahab, tell me about what’s ‘real.’ Who else knows that the great Sterling Silver is just a child?” 

Their eyes flickered over to mine, betraying decades of fatigue. “I’ve lived through enough in my lifetime to escape that label. Where I come from, my people lose control of their mental faculties as they get older. Digitizing my consciousness was the only way to avoid that fate.” 

“Right. Where you come from.” A terminal window opened in front of me, bombarding me with raw data. “That’s part of what I wanted to discuss.” 

Turning to face the closest white wall, Ahab released a blast of red energy, which condensed into a single lightning bolt. The energy struck the wall, absorbing it instantly, leaving no trace of damage. I sighed, shaking my head.  

“Sorry, Ahab. There’s no ‘control-alt-delete’ in my server.” 

They glared at me. “Let’s get this over with, then. At which point, you will release me.” 

“Well,” I began, “this all started when you ordered Treble Clef’s assassination. I know that he made some terrible choices, and was clearly a blight on the Public Servants’ reputation. Eliminating him made sense. However, what didn’t make sense was your neglect to follow up on his final words.” 

Ahab averted their gaze, and I continued. 

“A different lifeform, from an alternate universe? What a discovery! Why wouldn’t we investigate further? Unless . . . you already knew about it.” 

I stood from my chair, slowly pacing in a circle around Ahab.  

“Treble Clef mentioned that he used technology from The Underneath to create the Public Servants. Were you working with him? Did you know what he was?” 

Ahab rubbed his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes.” 

“Ah.” I smiled. “So, we’ve been working with a parallel universe to build better tech in our own world? How kind of them. I’m surprised there isn’t more contact between here and there.” 

They stayed silent, and I retrieved my terminal window once more. 

“Except . . . this isn’t voluntary, is it? Tell me, Ahab, what is the ‘Annie Protocol?’” 

Shaking their head, Ahab replied, “it’s none of your business. A necessary evil.” 

“Evil?” A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I wouldn’t call it that, based on what I’m seeing here. To me, it looks like you have The Underneath under quite a tight grip.” 

“You don’t understand,” interjected Ahab. “In my youth, my people were taken. We were enslaved. The powers in control, the Sleep Police, they used us to create weapons that they planned on inflicting upon the Overhead. On your world. I had to act.” 

“But not before they bombed our planet,” I said, realization striking me. “Isn’t that right?” 

They hung their head in shame. 

“So, what?” I inquired. “You started a coup? Sought out revenge?” 

“I couldn’t let them cause any more pain,” Ahab whispered. “The technology they used, the ‘gap bombs,’ were horrific. Most of the world thought the devices were simply destructive. The truth . . . is far worse.” 

I closed my eyes, combing through the Public Servants’ servers. “Gap bombs. Technology developed during the second World War. Created by a Nazi scientist codenamed . . . Black Pharaoh.”  

My eyes snapped open. “Of course. He’s from The Underneath, too.” 

“Not working with them, though.” Ahab shook their head. “From what I gathered, there was some sort of conflict between the Sleep Police and Black Pharaoh, a conflict the Sleep Police mistakenly associated with the world leaders in The Overhead. They stole Black Pharaoh’s technology and used it against us.” 

“Us?” I furrowed my brows. “You’re not one of ‘us.’ I bet no one even know where you came from. Hell, most people don’t even know your world exists.” 

“Regardless,” Ahab huffed, “I knew The Overhead would never survive a second attack. So, with the help of a friend, I developed the technology to digitize my consciousness. Then, I used my new form to take control of the automatons the Sleep Police had been using to oppress The Underneath. Now, those automatons, those Annies, they work for me. The Sleep Police have been suppressed, and the people of The Underneath are free to make their own choices now.” 

“Really?” I scoffed. “Free to work for you, you mean. Free to ferry resources from your world to ours.” 

I stopped pacing and turned to face the child head-on. “Don’t lie to me, Ahab. You’re ashamed of your home world. You’ve used these Annies to keep it under a tight control, farming it for ways to make this world more advanced. This world is an escape for you, at the expense of the place you escaped from.” 

“Well?” Ahab impatiently replied. “What now? You’re going to expose me? I don’t regret my actions. The Underneath was doomed. I’ve given it some semblance of control, and improved another world with far more chances to thrive.” 

They chuckled, placing their hands behind their back. “Honestly, I’ve been prepared to reveal all of this to The Overhead for a long time. Do you know why?” 

I shook my head. 

“Because they won’t care, Silicon. This world, while better, can be coldly selfish. The people won’t bat an eye at ruining one world to improve their own. That’s been the crux of modern civilization for centuries.” 

I nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. But you misunderstand my intentions.” 

Ahab cocked their head curiously. 

“I don’t care about exposing you,” I continued. “In fact, I applaud you. I see what success the Annies have brought to The Underneath. Maybe a little too stern, of course, but your heart’s in the right place. I, however, have a better idea.” 

“What’s that?” Ahab cautiously asked. 

“Free The Underneath completely. Close all the paths between our worlds. Use the Annies to enforce order in New General City. With enough control, we can bring balance to this world for good. We can stop Erica Leroux, and Vampire King, and even Black Pharaoh.” 

“No.” Ahab shook their head. “The Annies can’t be controlled in such a finite way. They follow basic commands. This would be a regime change; and, as history shows, this world does not view such changes fondly. It would be war. No, we have more subtle means of control.” 

I grimaced. “I disagree. Your subterfuge has already destroyed too many lives. It’s time for more dramatic action. It worked for The Underneath, and it’ll work here, too. Even if some collateral damage takes place.” 

Red electricity began to encircle Ahab. “I can’t let you do this, Silicon. It’s not up for negotiation. You’ll throw both worlds out of balance.” 

I smirked. “Try to stop me, then. I’ve been preparing for this for a while.” 

Snapping my fingers, I opened four swirling, black portals, each one facing the child. From each portal emerged a giant blue worm, the creatures’ mouths ringed by rows of long, sharp teeth. They slithered through the air, rushing to consume Ahab. 

The first worm drew within feet of the child, but a red, translucent bubble formed around them, deflecting the attack. Unfazed, the worm joined its three compatriots, circling the bubble. 

“I suspected you’d have firewalls in place,” I said. “Some things you have to take care of yourself.” 

Extending my arm, I summoned a katana, the blade gleaming bright blue. I darted forward, ramming the point of my sword into Ahab’s firewall, and their eyes widened in surprise as the blade pierced the bubble, stopping inches from their face. They expanded the field and released it, created a shockwave which knocked my worms and myself in different directions. As I tumbled backwards, a shower of red orbs burst from within the child, whistling as they homed in on the worms. The creatures shrieked when struck by the orbs, exploding into fragments of code. Ahab turned their attention to me.  

 “You fucked with the wrong cyborg,” they said, and more orbs burst forward, rocketing towards me. 

I raised my hand, forming a blue barrier against which the projectiles exploded. Swiping my arm to the side, I dropped the firewall, readying my katana.  

“This doesn’t have to be this way, Ahab. Just give me control of the Annies. The Underneath had its chance. We need to take control of The Overhead before we find another pile of bodies in a church, or have to look another group of abused immigrant children in the eyes.” 

Ahab clapped their hands together, and a flurry of red chains sprouted from the ground, snaking around me. “The Underneath was used to living in a police state. The Overhead has historically fought against such subjugation. You’ll only cause more pain in the form of a fourth world war.” 

Closing my eyes, I accessed my digital form, increasing its size until the chains tightened and snapped, disintegrating. I now towered over the child, a sword-wielding giant. 

“I’m done negotiating with you, Ahab. You’re just being a hypocrite at this point. Get on board or get out of the way.” 

Ahab’s eyes flared bright red. “No.” 

“So be it,” I sighed. “I hacked your physical body ninety seconds ago.” 

The light dissipated from their eyes, and terror washed across their face. “Wait. Don’t–” 

Flicking my wrist, I reached out through the network port in Sterling Silver’s room, detonating the plasma missiles stored within their metal frame. Through the Public Servants’ security cameras, I saw them warp and distort, red energy leaking from splitting seams in their outer shell. 

Then, they exploded in a flash of fire and plasma. 

Back in the digital space, Ahab lowered their head in defeat, their form flickering like a television with a bad signal. I glanced away uncomfortably, waiting for the remnants of their consciousness to fragment and fade.  

“You beat me,” they whispered, raising one transparent hand to reveal a white envelope. “But you can’t beat us all.” 

As they dissolved, the letter fluttered up into the air, vanishing in a puff of smoke. I sensed it take shape beyond my hard drive, traveling through network signals to deliver Ahab’s final message . . . somewhere.  

Well, I thought, that will probably come back to bite me. 

Extending my hand, I absorbed the remnants of Ahab’s consciousness, accessing the command codes they’d kept most guarded. A terminal window opened again, and two words appeared before me. 

ANNIE PROTOCOL. 

Standing alone in my sterile white prison, I spoke a single word. 

“Activate.” 

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