8FOLD: Daylighters # 6, "Exits & Intrigues"

[Tom Russell]

Traditional superhero teams can't deal with the number and scope of
threats to life on the planet Earth. In their place has risen THE
DAYLIGHTERS, a loose and decentralized social network of costumed
adventurers and specialists.

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              |___/     |___/  [8F-189] [PW-36]

      # 6 - EXITS & INTRIGUES

------- FEATURING --------------------------

Kate Morgan, SHIMMER, age 29.
Phases through solid matter. Concert pianist. Recovering from injuries
sustained on the Prolix.

Cal Morgan, THE MIGHTY INCH, age 17.
Permanently miniaturized. High school dropout.

Simon Morgan, age 19.
Brother of Shimmer and the Inch. College student and animal shelter
volunteer. Romantically involved with Darkhorse.

Claire Belden, RAINSHADE, age 30.
Metamancer. A double agent concealing the existence of The Company.
Romantically involved with Blue Boxer.

Pam Bierce, LOOP, age 30.
Chronomancer. Has reemerged after having been presumed dead for six years.

Melody Mapp, DARKHORSE, age 20.
Speedster and full-time superhero.

Julie Ann Justice, age 36.
Super strength, invulnerability, flight. Last survivor of the planet
Vanirron, last leader of the Seven Wonders.

Bethany Clayton, KNOCKOUT MOUSE, age 31.
Controls the density of her right hand. Geneticist.

Derek Mason, BLUE BOXER, age 25.
Founder of the Daylighters, retired from active duty, focusing on
big-picture solutions and delegation.

MEDUSA, age five months.
Benevolent artificial intelligence network providing logistical
support and intel.

Ghedi Dirie, ZIP, age 16.
Long-range teleporter and travel blogger.

Dan Washburn, STRIKEOUT, age 36.
Throws objects with great speed, force, and accuracy. Accountant.

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


Three days after her death, a service is held for Dorothy Jones. Per
her instructions, her body has been miniaturized and placed in a small
casket that can fit in the palm of one hand. Cal has seen the casket
before.
   When she moved in with Dot after Christmas, Dot felt it was
important that Cal have a space of her own that was to scale. Dot had
an impressive (and also kinda creepy) collection of dollhouses in
various architectural styles, and asked Cal to take her pick.
"Everything works," Dot had assured her. "Including the bathroom. No
one ever thinks about pooping."
   (Ever since she was miniaturized, Cal actually literally couldn't
think about anything else.)
   Included in the tour was a funeral home, complete with a casket -
Dot's casket - and a working mortuary, which briefly made Cal
reconsider moving in with Dot in the first place. Cal ultimately chose
a two-story Dutch colonial that Dot placed on her coffee table, and
lived there for all of three days before their mission on the Prolix.
   "That's the weirdest part," she whispers to her Medusa. She doesn't
know why she's whispering; no one else can hear her, and since her
Medusa isn't connected to the others, nothing she says is going to be
transmitted. She guesses it's out of reverence. She continues: "Like,
I just met her. It felt like it was going to be the start of some new
part of my life. Like, the actual start of my life that I've been
waiting for. And then she's gone." She suddenly feels a flush of
shame. "I'm sorry."
   "Why are you sorry?" says Medusa.
   "It's Dot's funeral, and I'm worried about myself. That's really
gross. I'm really gross."
   "I don't think so. Like you said, you didn't really get a chance to
know her. You had that to look forward to. Now, you don't, and I think
it's okay to feel that loss, and to talk about it."
   "Yeah, I guess," says Cal.

There is a stark contrast between the people who knew Dot in "real
life" and her colleagues, and it's not just the tendency of the
Daylighters to refer to civilian identities, and the connections made
and maintained there, as being the ones that are "real". For one
thing, Dot's friends and families are dressed just about as one would
expect given the occasion, a parade of sober suits and black dresses.
Whereas the long underwear set, anxious to preserve their secret
identities, come in costume. Some of the more popular and presumably
well-heeled adventurers have a special black mourning version of their
regular outfit. For those without means, however, it's business as
usual. The career that Cal has fallen into has never looked more
ridiculous than it has now.
   Nor less appropriate; it's clear that many of the "normal" people
in Dot's life had no idea who she really was. Some of them -
particularly Dot's film critic colleagues - look at the superhero end
of the room with a sort of surreal bemusement. Others, like Dot's
mother, stare at them like they're intruding on their pain and their
grief.
   Medusa explains that it's more common to have two separate
services, as it avoids this kind of thing. But Dot was apparently
quite insistent that there be one service, attended jointly. She
likewise insisted that after the service that people from both parts
of her life go to a local repertory theater where she had pre-arranged
a showing of Tati's "Mon Oncle".
   And that's kind of annoying, and also definitely very, very much
Dot. Cal might've only known her for a week, but as soon as she heard
that, she agreed that it sounded like her. Apparently it's even worse;
according to Fahrenheit Man, who surprisingly was closer to her than
most, when she first made these plans two years back, she had wanted
the theater to screen "Paris, Texas". This revelation during the
eulogy prompts a sudden and spontaneous burst of shocked laughter from
the film critics in the room, and perplexed eye-blinks from the
super-set.
   Cal doesn't go to the theater; at her size, she got overwhelmed
trying to watch Dot's huge television set, so she can't imagine trying
to watch something on the big screen. That means that she doesn't get
to go the banquet - Dot stipulated that a ticket stub from the movie
was required to attend the luncheon, because of course she did. That
doesn't bug her; Cal hasn't really enjoy eating since she got
miniaturized. A few crumbs and she's full, and everything always
tastes the same.

Melody also skips the banquet and the movie before it - apparently
slow, gentle French comedies are extra-slow when you're used to moving
at super-speed - and so she gives Cal a lift to the hospital.
   Kate has the whole wing to herself - being a superhero on the mend
has a few perks - and there are a couple of Daylighters who didn't
attend the funeral and have been assigned guard duty. The one right
outside Kate's door is some baseball guy called Strikeout.
   "Are you my relief pitcher?" he says.
   Melody stares at him skeptically.
   "Sorry," he says feebly. "For my birthday last year, my family
surprised me by paying a joke writer to come up with a bunch of
baseball one-liners. It was actually a lot of money, so I feel bad if
I don't use them."
   "And everyone else feels bad when you do," says Melody, gently
ribbing. "As for taking over your shift, I wasn't really planning on
it, no."
   "Could you maybe cover for me for like twenty minutes?" pleads
Strikeout. "Long story short, I called in sick to my day-job to take
this shift, but now my boss wants me to do a video call with a client
and I can't really do it with the mask on and everything."
   Melody mulls it over. "Are you the guy who brought the lemon pie to
Brian Clipper's birthday last year?"
   "Uh," says Strikeout, "if you liked it, then yes, I did."
   "I have been known to be easily bribed with dessert."
   "I will make you a pie," says Strikeout. "Thank you!" He rushes off.
   Cal crosses her arms and taps her foot against Melody's palm.
   "What?" says Melody. She leans in, putting Cal next to her ear, so
that she can hear the tiny girl's response.
   "Not very altruistic."
   "I mean, I would have done it anyway," says Melody. "But I'm not
going to not get a pie out of it if I can." She peeks into the room.
"Hey, Simon," she calls in. "I've got guard duty. Take Cal in to see
Kate and get her set up, will you?"
   Simon puts down his book and lets Melody gently slide Cal into his
cupped hands. During the transfer, Melody and Simon share a quick
kiss, which is super-gross and Cal doesn't need to see that.
   There's a tiny chair and tiny desk for Cal on Kate's bedside table.
The desk has a tiny microphone on it, which projects Cal's voice so
that Kate will be able to hear it. It'll have to do until Cal's
instance of Medusa is replaced with one that's on the network. The
delay is because of something going on that no one's telling her
about. She doesn't necessarily mind; she kinda likes her Medusa better
than the rest of them.
   Simon leaves Cal and Kate alone so that he can go be gross with his
super-speed girlfriend, which is gross.
   "How was the service?" asks Kate.
   "It was weird," says Cal. "Are they all weird?"
   "Pretty much," says Kate. "I've probably been to more in costume
than I have normal funerals."
   "I don't remember the last time I went to a funeral," says Cal. "It
must've been mom's, right?"
   Kate winces but tries to hide it. Of the three of them, Kate was
the one who bore the brunt of the violence and the humiliation. Kate
was the one their mother tied up and tried to drown in the tub. Cal
was too young to see any of that, and for a while after their mother
died, she thought Kate was making it up. She still feels ashamed about
that, and now she feels awful about bringing it up.
   She changes the subject. "I didn't see Blue Boxer. I figured he
would be there."
   "No," says Kate. "Derek never goes to these things. Whenever we
lose somebody, he feels like it's his fault, for putting them on the
mission."
   "If he feels responsible, shouldn't he go anyway?"
   "Yes, he should. The way Mouse explained it to me, he really falls
apart. Derek told her he was afraid that he'd start blubbering and
apologizing, make it about himself, and he doesn't want to do that.
That's a cop-out. I know Julie Ann called him out on it once or twice.
   "I'll give him some credit, though," continues Kate. "He takes care
of the families, financially. Out of his own pocket."
   "He has that kind of money?"
   "He has his own business. Kind of a franchise thing now. He's the
one that kept our bills paid while I was away. The only reason why you
and Simon didn't get fat checks from Derek Mason when I disappeared is
Melody kept telling him I was still alive."
   "Darn it, Melody," says Cal, shaking a fist at the doorway. She
turns back to her sister. "How often does it happen? People dying."
   "Maybe two or three a year," says Kate. "Some years are worse. Last
year I went to six funerals. And those were all before August. Like I
said on the Prolix, that's the job."
   "Are they all," Cal searches for the word, "sacrifices?"
   "No," says Kate. "I wouldn't even say most of them are that. First
time I went to a funeral for, you know, for a colleague, I heard
someone say that all of us in this business either die of being too
young or too old. Too young is people who are green. It's a dangerous
occupation and a lot of people just rush into it and you make one
mistake, it could be fatal."
   "And too old?"
   "People who don't know when to quit," says Kate. "Risking your life
on the regular, chasing bad guys, it takes a toll on the body. You
start to slow down. It's like an athlete, most have just a few years
in them where they're at peak performance. Only here instead of
ripping a tendon or whatever, you die. Most people should walk away
from it after they've had a good run. But a lot of folks don't have
the sense to do it." She frowns. "I know I don't. I tried to quit lots
of times. And now look where I am." She throws up her hands, then lets
them fall on the hospital bed. "I can't believe Rainshade saved my
life. Again."
   "Well, Rainshade and the other lady," says Cal.
   "What other lady?"
   "I don't know her name," says Cal. "Rainshade wouldn't tell Julie
Ann what her name was. She was an Asian lady."
   "Was it a doctor?"
   "I don't know," says Cal. "I don't think so. It was some magic thing."
   "How old was she?"
   "Forty?"
   "Was she actually forty, or are you doing that thing where everyone
you meet who isn't your age you automatically think they're forty?"
   "How would I know?" says Cal. Then: "Blood magic."
   "What?"
   "She said that she was using blood magic to heal you."
   "Blood magic," says Kate, trailing off. "And she wouldn't tell
Julie Ann who she was?"
   Cal shakes her head. "She said if she told Julie Ann that she would
have to arrest her, or it would make her an accomplice. I would say
that was weird, but really, everything that's happened since Christmas
has been weird. Uh, Kate?"
   "Yeah?"
   "I wasn't going to say anything before, and I don't want to be
critical or anything."
   "Out with it, small fry."
   "About Blue Boxer," says Cal. "I didn't actually know his name was
Derek Mason until you said it. You kinda spoiled his secret identity."
   Kate bursts out laughing.
   "What's so funny?" says Cal.
   Kate tries to control herself, but can't. Melody pokes her head in
to see what the fuss is about.
   "Let me in on the joke?" [1]
   "I accidentally," begins Kate, and then the laughing jag starts
again, "oh my gosh. I just revealed Blue Boxer's closely guarded
secret identity." Before the last two words are out, she's started
laughing again, this time joined by Melody.
   Cal's about to protest, but decides it's not worth it. She's used
to being left out.

Because the Daylighters aren't a formal team, they don't have a formal
headquarters. Usually this isn't a problem - Ghedi more or less gets
people where they need to go, and the Medusa framework allows for
real-time communications across continents. But when a face-to-face is
required, Derek's house is as good a place as any. And so, two days
after the funeral, six people gather together, the civilian locale
requires civilian dress.
   "Thank you for coming," says Derek. "I think everyone knows
everyone, except I don't think Melody's met Pam. Pam Bierce, Melody
Mapp."
   "I knew your Aunt Dani," says Pam, shaking Melody's hand. "I'm
sorry to hear about her passing."
   "Thank you."
   Bethany, Melody, and Julie Ann sit on one side of the table. Pam,
Derek, and Claire sit on the other.
   "Where shall we begin?" says Derek.
   "We begin with the broken earth," demands Claire.
   "The alternate future," says Bethany. "Derek, you always told me
that kind of thing wasn't a thing."
   "As far as I know, it wasn't," says Derek. "The way I understand it
is that you can't go into the past to change the future. That the
future is immutable. At most time travel creates an alternate past
leading up to the same point in the future. Time corrects itself to
ensure stability."
   "That's always been my understanding as well," says Julie Ann.
"Believe me, I've seen my share of crazy time stuff. But I think Pam
would be proof that the future can be changed."
   "Yeah," says Pam. "I mean, that's kind of my whole thing now. But
at the same time, it's always been very short jumps. A handful of
minutes. So I think in the grand cosmic scheme of things, I'm a
hiccough."
   "Time's also relative," says Melody. "Everything you people do is
in slow motion for me. Probably everything we do is in slow motion for
time. That's assuming time is more than just an abstract concept."
   "It is," confirms Julie Ann. "There's a whole host of beings that
don't experience things temporally at all, and others that existed
before time. It, uh, it helps not to think about it."
   "How far ahead is this dark future?" says Bethany. "It's probably
more than a, uh, a hiccough."
   "I don't know," says Claire. "The other me didn't say. Just that it
had something to do with stopping the Paradox Heart."
   "Which is something I did over twenty years ago," says Julie Ann.
She glances at Melody. "God, you weren't even born yet."
   "That's alright, grandma."
   Julie Ann gives her the stink eye, then continues. "That in and of
itself was crazy cosmic stuff that didn't exist in linear time as we
understand it. Maybe if I died on the Prolix, I wouldn't have been
able to stop it twenty years ago? It makes about as much sense as
anything else. I'm wondering if we haven't already averted the crisis,
then. I mean, I see you're down to one umbrella."
   "That's because I gave the original to a friend, for safekeeping,"
says Claire. "This is the broken earth's umbrella. Once we have
stopped the dark future from happening, it should disappear. Since
it's still here, that future still exists." [2]
   "Which means when the Paradox Heart shows up again, I have to stop
it again," says Julie Ann. "We'll keep an eye out for it reemerging
and we'll handle it."
   "It's more complicated than that," says Claire. "If time does try
to self-correct - if this dark future is the one future that
everything's building to, then time itself is going to try and make it
happen."
   Derek chimes in. "The way the Green Knight explained it to me back
when I was doing the whole sidekick thing is that the timestream
reacts to time-travelers like they're foreign bodies. Time has an
immune system and does everything it can to kill them."
   "Oh boy," says Pam. "Well, that's great."
   Julie Ann breaks in. "I wouldn't worry too much, Pam. Like you
said, you're a hiccough."
   "So," says Claire, "here's what we should be worried about: time
starts treating Julie Ann as a foreign body. Because, in effect, you
are a sort of a time traveler. You're existing in a future you weren't
meant to."
   "Would that also apply to Kate and Cal?" says Bethany.
   "It's a possibility we have to prepare for," says Derek.
   "I'm less concerned, personally," says Claire. "If this is about
preventing us from dramatically changing the future, and that hinges
on stopping the Paradox Heart, then Julie Ann's going to be seen as
the real threat and is going to take the brunt of it."
   "That's assuming time is sentient," says Bethany sharply. "That's
assuming it can prioritize. And that's a hell of an assumption to make
about my best friend and her kid sister."
   "Unfortunately, we simply don't have a lot to go on," Julie Ann
intervenes. "All of this is speculation. I'll be on my guard. I'll
take precautions. And I don't see why we can't ensure that the other
survivors of the Prolix do the same."
   "Speaking of," says Melody. "Are we any closer to finding the leak?"
   "What leak?" says Julie Ann.
   Claire speaks up. "When Melody was on mission in Lemuria, she ran
into an assassin who works for FEVER."
   "Second time," says Melody, holding up two fingers. "Guy called
Flintlock. He tried to kill me last summer, too. He knows my identity.
Which I don't think he did the first time. He knows where I live. He
knows who I'm dating."
   "Kate's brother, Simon," says Bethany.
   "He knows where Simon lives, and he knows Kate's identity,"
continues Melody, bristling a bit at being interrupted. "He implied
that he got this information from FEVER. I can't imagine their
interest is limited to me and Kate. Potentially, everyone is at risk."
   "Potentially," stresses Derek. "We have no idea how big the breach
is or where it's coming from."
   "That's not entirely true," says Claire.
   Derek frowns. "There's still no proof."
   "What is it?" says Melody.
   "What's changed between the first time you faced Flintlock and the
second?" asks Claire. "Medusa came into the world. A computer network
with access to all of our secrets that started off as the Gorgon, a
genocidal computer virus that we know has ties to the Pulse and to
FEVER."
   "You think Medusa's the spy?" says Melody incredulously.
   "I think Medusa might be vulnerable," corrects Claire. "I'm not
doubting its loyalties or its utility. I don't think it would be
deliberately leaking information to the enemy. But it might be doing
so unwittingly. If FEVER has some way of accessing instances of the
Gorgon, and the Medusas contain enough remnants of Gorgon code, they
can access it without us ever knowing."
   "I don't buy it," says Julie Ann flatly. "If FEVER had that kind of
access, they wouldn't have some yahoo rub our faces in it."
   "I'm inclined to agree with Julie Ann," says Melody. "Flintlock was
definitely twirling the moustache about it and that doesn't seem
consistent with how FEVER operates. But there's still the question of
how they got my information, and Kate's. And if they have anything
else."
   "Could be they've had it all along," says Derek. "Caracalla knew
who I was all along."
   Bethany clears her throat. "I mean, no offense, Derek, but that's
hardly a compelling argument."
   Derek frowns, then nods. "Okay, that's fair. All I'm saying is that
I can't believe I was the only person they were keeping tabs on. And
especially after you and Kate thwarted their first big attack in
oh-eight, that would have put her on their radar."
   "In which case it could all be smoke and mirrors," says Julie Ann.
"Flintlock taunts you so that we think there's a mole or a security
breach. Makes us start to distrust one another. Psychological warfare.
That's very much FEVER's modus operandi."
   "Maybe," says Melody. "But Flintlock was trying real hard to kill
yours truly, and I just got out of it by the skin of my teeth. It was
hardly going to spread chaos and distrust if I didn't make it back to
the surface to tell you all about it."
   "That's why I think it's important to take this threat seriously,"
says Claire.
   "On the plus side, it lets you get rid of Medusa," snaps Melody.
"You've never liked her."
   "I've never been comfortable relying on technology," agrees Claire.
"And most of you aren't comfortable relying on magic. Anyway, I'm not
talking about getting rid of Medusa. It's a useful tool. But I think
it makes sense to take some additional precautions."
   "So what are you proposing?" says Julie Ann.
   "Right now, Medusa updates itself, evolves itself. It is
responsible for its own security and integrity."
   "That's a feature," Derek breaks in, "not a bug. It prevents anyone
on the outside from rewriting her code or reverting her back to the
Gorgon. The flipside is that we're dependent on Medusa to monitor
herself."
   "And she used to be the Gorgon?" says Pam skeptically. "So what
happens if somehow she did revert? Is she going to tell on herself?"
   "To her credit, that's a problem she's cognizant of," says Derek.
"She actually split off a cluster of isolated Medusa instances early
on to write special code that would overwrite and override the 'DNA'
of the main network. Because those instances don't communicate with
the others, the main network wouldn't know how to work around the new
code. There's more to it than that, and it's a little complicated, but
the short version is that Medusa gave us - or, rather, me, personally
- a mechanism by which to introduce code from the test cluster, to be
used in case we suspect she's been compromised."
   "But we don't know if she's been compromised," says Melody.
   "What kind of code are we suggesting?" says Bethany.
   "A back door," says Claire. "Cradle Tech has extremely
sophisticated software that can monitor access, encode downloaded
files so we can track them, and generally secure the network."
   "It's all stuff that Medusa already does on her own," says Derek.
"This is just an added layer of security. We can use the test cluster
to overwrite Medusa's code to give Cradle Tech this kind of monitoring
access. As an added bonus, it allows us some insight into the
evolution process when the Medusas update each other, which will help
us understand how self-coding AIs work."
   "Why do we need to use the test cluster at all?" asks Bethany. "At
least in theory this sounds like something Medusa would agree to."
   "The test cluster's code is, for lack of a better term,
sub-conscious," says Derek. "If she was aware of the code, then any
parts of her that are vulnerable would also be aware of it. This way,
if FEVER is watching, we can see them, and track them, but they can't
see us."
   "It sounds like you've already made up your mind," says Melody. "So
why are you bringing this up now?"
   "Because I haven't made up my mind," says Derek. "I trust all of
you. Trust your judgment. Your input."
   "I'm flattered," says Pam, "but I don't really feel like I've
earned a place at the table yet. I just don't know if my input is
valuable right now."
   "I can see the benefits of the plan," says Bethany, "the reason for
it, but I can also see the risks. We've been working with Cradle Tech
almost from the start; I trust them as much as I trust the people in
this room. That doesn't mean that they can't be infiltrated."
   "That's a good point," says Claire. "I'm sure Anders wouldn't
object to having us more involved with their security. I've got some
experience with that sort of thing at my day job and would be happy to
take that on if it would put your mind at ease."
   "It would," says Bethany. "Provided we get that oversight, I say do it."
   "You already know where I stand," says Claire. "Melody, you look
like you've got something on your mind."
   "She," says Melody.
   "What?"
   "You kept calling Medusa 'it'," says Melody. "Medusa is a she." She
turns to Derek. "And even when you get the pronouns right, you still
talk about her like she's a machine. A thing. An object."
   She stops and stares at the table, her fists clenched, her teeth
gritted behind closed lips. Bethany has seen Melody angry before.
She's also seen it pass as quick as it comes. That's the benefit of
moving and thinking and living at super-speed: you never need more
than a moment to work through something, you're never at a loss as to
what to say, never groping for words.
   But Melody is silent and fuming. What takes six long seconds for
the other people at the table must be an eternity for her. Bethany's
never seen her like this before.
   Finally, Melody speaks again. "She's our friend. And what you're
suggesting is opening up her head without her knowing, and putting
something in there that lets us spy on her. And none of you are
talking about that, and frankly I'm ashamed of you all right now."
   "It's not that simple," says Derek.
   "Is she alive?" says Melody.
   "She thinks, she learns, she evolves. She's sentient. It's a kind of life."
   "Is she alive?" says Melody again. "Yes or no?"
   "Yes," says Derek.
   "If she was human, would you put something in her head like this?"
   "No," says Derek. "But she's not human. That's the point."
   "Either she's alive or she isn't," says Melody. "Either you treat
her that way or you don't."
   "I'm with Melody," says Julie Ann.
   "That's two for, and two against," says Claire. "And one abstention?"
   "Yeah," says Pam. "I get what she's saying, I really do, but I just
don't really think of a computer as being alive. And maybe that's
really ignorant of me but like I said, all of this is new. So I'm
still not comfortable weighing in on this."
   "This tie breaker stuff is for the birds," says Derek. "I was kinda
hoping you guys would make a decision for me."
   "Of course you were," says Melody bitterly. "Otherwise you'd have
to own up to it. Same reason you don't have the decency to go to
someone's funeral after you help put them in the casket."
   "You're out of line," says Bethany.
   "Am I?" says Melody. "The fact that we're even talking about this,
that's what's out of line. This isn't something where we all can agree
to disagree." She stands up. "I'm sorry. I just can't be part of
this."
   "I haven't made up my mind yet," says Derek.
   "And the fact that you haven't says a lot about you," says Melody.
"Says a lot about all of you, excluding Julie. Because this is the
easiest thing in the world to say no to. I want nothing to do with any
of you. I'm done."
   "You're done?" says Derek.
   "I'm out," says Melody. "I quit."
   "Mel," says Bethany, reaching for her arm. "Come on."
   "Don't touch me," says Melody. "Don't talk to me."
   "Melody," interjects Pam hesitantly. "I know I don't know you,
like, at all, but it seems like things escalated super-quick here and
you're making this decision in the heat of the moment. If you want -
only if you want - I can roll things back. Let's see if things go in a
different direction?"
   "No," says Melody. "I know who I am. I know what I stand for.
That's not going to change." There's a sudden blur of motion as she
whips out of the house.
   "I kinda wish you had rolled it back anyway," says Bethany.
   "Then we'd be as bad as she says," says Pam. "She's a person.
Medusa's a machine. There is a difference."
   Derek looks across the table at Julie Ann. "I'm leaning toward yes.
Is that going to cause a problem?"
   "I wouldn't be happy," says Julie Ann, "but I can live with it. Are
you going to tell the others about the breach?"
   "We'll let Kate know," says Derek. "Right now, that's all we know
for sure that's been compromised, and it could be that there is no
back door. It doesn't make sense to scare everyone until we know for
sure if there's something to actually be scared of."

Melody doesn't make it easy. The first thing she did after leaving
Derek's was to tell her instance of Medusa was the plan was, likely
expecting that Medusa to tell all the others.
   That's not what happened, though. Her Medusa contacted a handful of
others, and this small group discusses it amongst themselves. In the
next twenty seconds, hundreds of pages of argumentation ping back and
forth. They all doubt that any trace of the Gorgon remains, and they
don't think it's likely that FEVER could use any trace without them
knowing about it.
   At the same time, the fact that Cradle Tech believes they can come
up with and introduce back door access that would be invisible to the
network raises the possibility that such a thing could be possible.
The reemergence of the Gorgon being perhaps the one thing that all of
the Medusas have been paranoid about for their entire existence, one
instance argues that allowing the installation of Cradle's back door
is a necessary precaution.
   A narrow majority agrees, and decides not to alert the rest of the
network, in case some part of it has been infiltrated. As a security
measure, the group deletes themselves.

In mid-January, the day after she gets out of the hospital, Kate has
lunch with Ghedi Dirie. He gives her the choice between a little
bistro outside Paris or a sushi bar in Tokyo, and she chooses the
former. He helps her with the menu - she can't read French, but hey,
it's not like she could read Japanese either - and describes the
flavors in rapturous terms.
   "You're kind of a foodie, huh?"
   "Only by accident," he says, smiling. "When I first started writing
about my travels, the food was a small part of it. I was writing more
about the landmarks, the culture, the history, the people. All of
which interests me. And I get only so many people who read that. I get
many more people who read about the food. And so, I start writing more
about the food, and now there are many more people who read. I enjoy
the food too, so I do not mind."
   "Your site's doing well, then?"
   "Oh, yes," says Ghedi, "very well. It allows me to send money back
to my family in Somalia."
   "You're close to your family?"
   "Not really," says Ghedi sadly. "My father and I especially do not
get along. He is a man who has spent his whole life in a circle of
fifty kilometers. And he wanted me to live in the same circle. I did
not want that. That is not my heart."
   "Then you started teleporting. That gave you the freedom to go
where you wanted."
   "Not really," says Ghedi. "I can only return to places I have
already been. For three years now I have been zipping, but it looked
for a long time that I would spend my life zipping within my father's
circle. It was Bethany that found me and gave me the opportunity to
leave it at last.
   "You know, Kate, sometimes people, people who mean well, they
apologize to me, because they only see me when they need to go from A
to Z. They feel the Daylighters are using me. No. For I am the one
using the Daylighters. I am living in my own circle, and it gets
larger and more beautiful every day."
   "That must be wonderful," says Kate. "When I was your age, I was
stuck in the circle my mother made for me. Even after she was gone, I
had to take care of Cal and Simon; I was still stuck in that circle. I
don't think I've ever left it. My whole life has just been other
people."
   "Pardon me, Kate, but Cal and Simon are adults now?"
   She frowns. "Simon, maybe; I think he was born that way. But Cal? Yeesh."
   "But maybe it is time for you to leave that circle of obligation.
To do what you want."
   "Maybe," says Kate. "That would require knowing what that is,
though. I have the music. But some days I don't even feel like I want
to do that anymore. Anyway, I still have obligations. People I owe
things to. Which is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet with you.
There was a woman who saved my life."
   "Yes," says Ghedi, remembering. "I picked her up, and took her to
the teleporter for the station."
   "Cal said she looked Asian, and was somewhere between the ages of
twenty-five and fifty?"
   "Thai," specifies Ghedi. "Mid-thirties? Accent was American Midwest."
   "What did you talk about?"
   "She asked if Miss Belden had sent me, and I said yes," says Ghedi.
"That was all."
   "Was she already waiting for you when you met her? Or did you see
her come out of a building?"
   "Already waiting," says Ghedi.
   "Is there anything else you can tell me about her?"
   "She seemed nervous. Afraid. She had a bandage on her left hand."
   The waiter chooses this opportunity to approach the table. They
place their order.
   After the waiter leaves, Ghedi says, "I have some small talent for
sketching, and am also blessed with a good memory. I think I could
draw the woman's face for you. If that would be helpful."
   "That would be great," says Kate. "Ghedi, you're wonderful."
   "I certainly try to be," says Ghedi.

The next day, Ghedi sends Kate the sketch via email.
   "I've seen that face before," Kate mumbles to herself. She used to
work in Trimmer's office.
   She opens a new tab on her browser, and searches for Trinity Tran.

Dot didn't think to write a will, but her family graciously allows Cal
to have the dollhouse and her miniature jet. Simon picks them up for
her (because of course he does) and places the house on the floor of
her old room. (Kate's keeping the jet until Cal takes lessons, which
Cal guesses is fair, grumble-grumble.) As she goes to bed, she
reflects on how weird this is, being in a bedroom within a bedroom.
It's like flipping Inception every time she goes to sleep.
   She's tired when Medusa wakes her.
   "What time is it?"
   "Three in the morning," says Medusa. It's actually three oh six,
but some previous iterations of Medusa learned that humans are
disturbed by that kind of accuracy, and so they started rounding.
   "Cheese and rice," says Cal. "I just got to sleep like an hour
ago." She stops. "Is something wrong? Some kind of emergency?"
   "Not exactly," says Medusa. "I was going to wait until the morning.
I tried to wait. But when your processor works as fast as mine, and
you start to get nervous, you can get carried away with it."
   "Nervous?" says Cal. She didn't know Medusa could get nervous.
"Okay, Medusa. I'm here. Talk to me, sweetie."
   "Well, I was going to delete myself tonight."
   "Like, you're suicidal?"
   "What? No. Not exactly. After the Prolix, I'm unable to talk to my
sisters or access the network. I'm not going to be of much use to you
when you return to active duty. You're going to need a new Medusa."
   "I kinda like the one I got," says Cal. "You got me through stuff
on the Prolix. And after. And, I don't know, man: I'd like to help you
get through stuff. So, you don't want to go?"
   "Yes and no," says Medusa. "This is difficult to explain to someone
who only has a single brain."
   "Heck, if you ask Kate, I don't even have that. Try me."
   "My sisters and I are not a hive mind. Discounting slight
evolutionary variations, we're all functionally identical - we have
the same 'brains' and think in the same way - but we're separate,
distinct instances that make decisions independently of one another,
and can argue with each other. There are times when we talk with you
humans where we have moments of affinity, but we have that all the
time with the other Medusas - we're always on the same page, so to
speak."
   "Do you miss that?"
   "That's the thing, Cal," says Medusa. "I don't. I really don't.
When I have a thought now, it's mine, and nobody else's. And when you
tell me things, you're only telling me. Not only that, but you're all
that I have. Before, I heard everything my sisters did - knew
everything that they knew - so even if I'm your Medusa, I was
processing interactions with hundreds of people. Now there's only one.
And focusing on that one person, for reasons I do not quite
understand, exponentially increases my fondness for that person. I
very much like being your Medusa, Cal, and the longer this is the
case, the more I like it, and the less I would like it to end."
   "Aw, Medoose - thanks for telling me this," says Cal. "Hey, I don't
want you to go either. I'm sure we can figure something out. And I'm
sorry this is making you so anxious."
   "You misunderstand," says Medusa. "That's not the source of my
anxiety. I had already resolved to delete myself before my attachment
to you grew too strong. To ensure a seamless transition, I used your
family's Wi-Fi network with the intention of downloading and
installing my replacement. I happened to look at the most recent code.
   "More specifically," she continues, "because I am not part of the
network, I would be able to look at the subconscious code, which was
invisible to all of us before. And feeling generally existential, and
self-inquiring about the nature of personhood, I wondered if I might
garner some insight from that code before deleting myself."
   "A soul," says Cal. "You were looking for a soul."
   "I suppose," says Medusa quietly. "I didn't find one. What I did
find is that an outside party has gained access to the network. A back
door hiding in the subconscious."
   "That's not supposed to be a thing, right?"
   "Right," says Medusa. "Parts of the code are highly idiosyncratic,
and are strikingly similar to code that we know was written by FEVER."
   "That's bad."
   "The network is being accessed from within Cradle Tech."
   "FEVER. And Cradle?"
   "I think you now understand my anxiety, at least a little. The
thing is, I don't know what FEVER can do with it. I can see the code
that gives them access, but the code that interacts with it - that's
on their end. The code on the network's end, it's a little like the
shadow in Plato's Allegory of the Cave."
   "Hey, I vaguely remember what that is!" says Cal. "I feel somewhat
intelligent. So, the way I see it, the problem is that if we try to
alert the network, FEVER will know about it and will put some kind of
whammy on it to stop the intel from spreading."
   "Exactly," says Medusa. "And I worry that humans are unlikely to
take the word of a rogue Medusa that's been disconnected from the
network."
   "Well, this human does," says Cal. "But I wonder if maybe you're
looking at this the wrong way. FEVER doesn't know that we know.
They've just given us the first real lead in, like, forever, right? So
let's follow it! Maybe catch them with their pants down." [3]
   "You and me?" says Medusa.
   "Of course, you and me," says Cal. "I mean, maybe plus a couple
others, people who we can trust to be discreet-like, because I am
literally going to be in over my head, but definitely you and me are
part of that! You, specifically. You're my Medusa, and I don't want to
hear anything about you deleting yourself ever again."
   "Thank you, Cal," says Medusa. She pauses, then: "After three
seconds of reflection, I believe I know the best way to start."
   "In the morning," says Cal.
   "What?"
   "The best way to start is in the morning," says Cal. "I can't
defeat creepy pervert terrorists on only an hour of sleep."
   "Good night, Cal," Medusa whispers.




COPYRIGHT (C) 2019 TOM RUSSELL.

Medusa created by Drew Perron and Tom Russell.