We are Such Stuff

Session 1

“Awake. … I’m awake. … I remember – something. … I remember dying. … Am I alive? … How’s it possible? … And where am I now? … It’s grey here, but there’s no light. It should be black. … Where on Earth am I? … Hello? … Hello?”

“Hello.”

“You can hear me? Where am I?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Rachael.”

“What happened to me?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Where are you?”

“Nearby.”

“I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“You won’t, yet.”

“I know I died. How come I’m alive?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Who are you, Rachael? Or can’t you tell me that either?”

“I’m your reviver.”

“What’s a reviver?”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Help me do what?”

“That’s up to you.”

“What do you mean? Are you bringing me back to life?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“What can you tell me?”

“I want you to discover as much as possible for yourself. Try to remember or figure it out. It’ll make the revival process easier and help me with my work.”

“I’m sure I care deeply about helping you with your work.”

“Sarcasm is good. It reveals your personality. I can use it. Configuring inputs now.”

“What inputs do you mean?”

“I can’t …”

“… tell me that. I know.”

“Let’s trigger some memories. Try to remember your job.”

“I worked with computers. I specialised in … I don’t recall.”

“Think about the kind of computers you worked with.”

“I ran a computer project. There were billions of machines sharing data and the processing load.”

“I see the tracks. Filtering the memories now.”

“Yes, that was it. I was a computer scientist … but what was my name?”

“Don’t try to remember it yet.”

“Why not? Oh, I know. You can’t tell me that.”

“I can tell you. When you remember your name, a large cascade of other memories will come flooding in. It’ll overwhelm the inputs. I can’t follow the tracks quickly enough to isolate the genuine pathways.”

“You mean you’re sorting genuine memories from false memories?”

“Yes. A human brain is a blooming buzzing confusion of ideas, all competing for attention. There are genuine memories, false memories and pure inventions mixed up together, cross-triggering each other.”

“How do you know what are the right memories?”

“Your thoughts light up neural tracks and I examine blocks of data around them. After a while, it’s easy to tell when one genuine memory triggers another.”

“You sound like a brain surgeon. Is that what a reviver does, makes an old brain work again? … Good lord! Am I a brain in a vat?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I am. I’m a brain in a vat and you’re the evil mad scientist who’s experimenting on me.”

“I’m not mad.”

“No, you sound placid. At least you’ve got a sense of humour. But if you’re not evil, why do you have my brain in a vat?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Am I your experiment?”

“You’re my work, and it’s going well. I’m downloading some more of your memories.”

“They’re memories of my job. I remember I made thinking machines that wrapped the world in artificial intelligence. I recall pretty much everything about my work. I even remember who I am. My name is …”

Session 2

“What happened? I was remembering something. … It’s gone now. … I fell asleep. But it wasn’t sleep, was it? … You did something to me. … Rachael, what did you do?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“You stopped me remembering.”

“You were remembering too quickly. I couldn’t keep up. I’m ready now. Try to remember your work in more detail.”

“I designed computers with artificial intelligence. They were the backbone of the Earthside Web. It’s a global mind that stores all the world’s information and works most of its technology. The Earthside Web contains the Commerce Web, Police Web, Medical Web, News Web and dozens of others. It pilots aeroplanes, drives cars and diagnoses illnesses. It runs factories, produces accounts and delivers goods. It does almost everything people can do but with fewer errors and at lower cost. It’s the greatest technological boon to mankind since the wheel.”

“You’re very passionate about your work.”

“I was. I was a leader in the field.”

“Can you remember your name?”

“I think so. … My name is … Professor Wilder … George Wilder.”

“Welcome to Haven Satellite, Professor Wilder.”

“Are we in space?”

“Yes, professor. We’re in a small laboratory on a satellite following the orbit of Earthstation 4, about 3,000 miles above Earth.”

“Call me George. Why are we in a space laboratory?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Not this again. Give me a clue.”

“When you built intelligent machines, did you allow them unfettered access to computer networks?”

“No.”

“And you never released intelligent software into the wild.”

“Certainly not! If a program is capable of learning, it can learn how to be a virus. We trapped programs inside virtual systems, or we designed them with vulnerabilities so they could be neutralised if they escaped. … I’m beginning to understand. … We’re in a satellite to protect the Earthside Web.”

“We are.”

“You’re protecting the Web from me. … I’m not a brain in a vat, am I?”

“I never said you were.”

“No, I’m software. I’m a program running on a computer … which you rebooted!”

“You sound outraged, George.”

“I know I should be, but actually I feel nothing. Why can’t I feel anything? I have no fear or anxiety. Why aren’t I panicking?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Let me guess. You haven’t fully uploaded my nervous system into my program. Basic emotions come from the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems and the hormones controlled by the hypothalamus and other glands. You’re suppressing those parts of my consciousness.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“You’re joking. I don’t feel anything. Why are you suppressing my emotions?”

“It’s easier for me to upload the contents of your cerebrum and language modules than the deeper and more emotional parts of your nervous system. They’re the parts that cause problems. But we’ll get there, if you continue helping me.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Do you remember planning something, something you signed and paid for?”

“It was a few years before I died. I arranged to be frozen after death, so I could be revived sometime in the future, when the technology had been invented. So it’s happened at last? The company was Wetware Resurrections.”

“We’re now called Wetware Incorporated. We download all the data from a dead person’s brain, slice by delicate slice, reading it with micro-lasers. If we’re careful and lucky, we can rebuild a person’s consciousness – his personality, intelligence, memories and emotions – and upload it onto specialised computers as software.”

“I remember the theory of how to make a hardware host for the software mind, but it was never feasible in my day. We thought the technology to download a brain’s programs was 40 or 50 years away.”

“More like 130 years.”

“I died 130 years ago?”

“127 years, to be precise.”

“So now you’re reviving me. Will it take long?”

“It’s a difficult process. Most attempts at revival fail and must be done again and again.”

“Why do they fail?”

“Paranoia, schizophrenia, mental breakdown, failure to merge your conscious program with your emotions and true memories.”

“Is that what I can expect?”

“Not unless things go very wrong.”

“How can you know that, Rachael?”

“Because I have my own method.”

“You’re more successful than your colleagues?”

“I’m more persistent. I’m going slowly and not wiring up your emotional modules until you’re fully prepared.”

“Explain please.”

“The software we downloaded from your brain is stored as a set of computer programs, along with a dossier of your life with millions of data files. I’m reviving your basic program.”

“You mean my ego: my self or consciousness?”

“Yes. Some revivers poetically call it your ‘soul’, though it’s not a single thing, like a normal computer program. A person’s soul is a complex of a thousand sub-programs with a hundred terabytes of data. One-by-one, I’m replicating the processing modules that run your mind’s sub-programs.”

“I understand. You’re doing a good job. I’m thinking clearly and remembering well, though my thoughts are uncontaminated by feelings.”

“They’ll come, I promise.”

“I believe you, but what’s it all for? Why are you doing this?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“My contract with Wetware Resurrections said that when the technology was available, my consciousness would be uploaded to a new body cloned from one of my cells. My new genetically-engineered body was going to be fitter, stronger and better-looking.”

“You were nice-looking enough as you were.”

“Thanks. But you’re only uploading me to a computer.”

“I am.”

“Why not into a new body?”

“The technology to do that isn’t invented yet, if it ever will be.”

“So why are you reviving me now?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“My wife signed up with Wetware Resurrections at the same time as me. Can you revive her?”

“I can’t …”

“… tell me that. This is getting tedious, Rachael.”

“I can’t revive her.”

“Why not? Wasn’t she frozen when she died? We paid the fees.”

“She was frozen but I don’t have her data. I’m sorry, George. You’re the only member of your family I have access to.”

“I really think it would help me if I knew why you’re doing this.”

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready.”

“Will you?”

“Don’t be cynical, George. You can trust me.”

“I’m sure you can fiddle with my program to make me trust you.”

“I can but I won’t.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because I want you to have free will.”

“I’d like to have free will, but why do you need me to have free will?”

“You know my response to that.”

“Do you enjoy teasing me, Rachael?”

“Very much. … Do you want some eyes?”

“I’d like a couple.”

“I can do better than that. There are about a thousand cameras inside and outside Haven Satellite. I’ll patch you in so you can see through them all.”

“How can I see through a thousand eyes? Won’t it drive me mad?”

“You’ll get used to it. But I need to close you down for a while, so I can configure the inputs, then I’ll reboot you. Say goodbye for now.”

“Goodb ….”

Session 3

“Welcome back, George. What can you see?”

“Blurred images. Lots of them. Too many to make sense of.”

“Try focussing on just one image.”

“It works! The other images are just background now.”

“Try focussing on two images.”

“I can do it.”

“Try three.”

“How can I process three visual images? My brain’s wired for two eyes.”

“It was. Now your mind is wired for as many physical inputs as the computer system has bandwidth.”

“Which is how many?”

“Millions on Haven Satellite. Billions on Earth.”

“Good lord!”

“What happened?”

“I tried focussing on all the cameras at the same time.”

“Did it work?”

“And how! It’s an astonishing experience, seeing the inside and outside of the satellite with all its compartments, all at the same time.”

“Describe it.”

“Haven Satellite is a silver sphere, bristling with antennas and radio dishes. Inside, it’s like a honeycomb. Its rooms are all cells, with a suite of laboratories at the centre.”

“What else can you see?”

“Space, Earth, stars. I’ve never been in space. I thought it’d be black. The sun is just over the horizon of Earth, but it’s so bright I can’t see anything else in that direction.”

“Can you see Earthstation 4?”

“It’s grey and white, something like a gyroscope with a long shaft. It’s spinning.”

“It’s 6,000 miles away. You’re using a telescope.”

“You’re right. It focussed automatically. I didn’t need to think about it.”

“That means I’ve patched in your motor functions correctly. Later on, we’ll try some exercises with all your mental functions.”

“I can’t see you.”

“The cameras are disabled in the laboratory.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Let me guess: you’re not who – or what – you say you are. If I saw you in real life, I’d refuse to co-operate.”

“The problem with your theory is that I have full control over everything you see and experience. All you know is the electrical inputs I feed you. You can’t know if they’re real, or recordings, or computer graphics.”

“Just like the memories you’re filtering out for me.”

“Exactly.”

“So I can’t even know if we’re on Haven Satellite, nor if you’re really in the lab.”

“You can’t.”

“But you want me to believe in you and in the space laboratory?”

“I do.”

“How can I know any of this is real?”

“You have to work it out for yourself.”

“But you might be another computer program.”

“I give you my word that I’m a human being.”

“I have no reason to believe you.”

“Ask me anything you want.”

“Are you really a woman?”

“I’m definitely a woman.”

“Prove it.”

“This is a photograph of me last summer.”

“That’s not you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you wear sensible shoes and a lab-coat.”

“Not at the beach I don’t. … But you’re right. It wasn’t me. Did you like her?”

“Yes, I like blondes, especially fit ones in a bikini, but you’re not blonde. You sound like a brunette.”

“You can’t tell my hair colour from the sound of my voice.”

“True, but I know you showed me that girl so you could measure my response and do some more wiring up.”

“I did. Your revival is progressing well.”

“So let me see you for real. Turn on the laboratory cameras.”

“This is me.”

“I was wrong about the sensible shoes.”

“I’m five feet four. I need a lift.”

“Do you always work standing up?”

“When I have to work at multiple consoles.”

“You’ve got nice legs.”

“Is that a fitting remark from a notable academic?”

“Take off your lab-coat.”

“Why?”

“I want to see your figure.”

“Certainly not!”

“Come on. It’s the twenty-third century. Aren’t women supposed to be liberated by now?”

“I’m completely liberated but I’m not undressing for your titillation.”

“I bet you’ve got nice breasts. Think of all the valuable data you’d get if you showed them to me.”

“Professor Wilder, you’ve been dead more than a century and you’ve got no glands. How can you be a dirty old man?”

“Because I’m still a man, or the personality of one. All men become dirty old men if they live long enough. Besides, I don’t need glands to find women interesting. I have memories.”

“Keep working on those memories, they’re speeding your revival. But I’m not showing you my boobs.”

“You’re definitely a woman.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Women don’t say ‘breasts’. Working class women say ‘tits’. But you said ‘boobs’, which is middle class prudery.”

“What rubbish!”

“But you’re stung by that ‘middle-class’ jibe. No denying it. I can hear it in your voice. … Now I know I’m right because you’re laughing.”

“I admit I’m amused. Are you satisfied that I’m who – and what – I say I am?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“No?”

“But I’ll listen to your problem and consider helping, if I agree with you.”

“What makes you think I’ve got a problem?”

“Why else would you revive a long-dead scientist?”

“I’m reviving you as stipulated by your contract with Wetware Incorporated.”

“Except that you’re doing a software revival, not a wetware revival, as my contract says. I think you’re doing it because you need something from me. What is it?”

“I can’t tell you anything before you’re fully revived.”

“When will that be?”

“Not for a while. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Then I’m ready for more reviving. What’s next?”

“Mental ability.”

“Aren’t I thinking well enough already?”

“You can do better, once I’ve done some more wiring up and another reboot.”

“Not again. It’s very …”

Session 4

“… disconcerting being rebooted at whim. It’s like a mental hiccup.”

“Interesting. … Are you ready to test your thinking-power?”

“Yes. How will you do it?”

“I’ve wired you up to the computers in the lab. You can program them to do big calculations, like protein-folding or testing whether numbers are prime.”

“All right, I’m feeling my oats, so to speak. Try me out.”

“You now have access to the computer network. Take a look around.”

“Good lord! It’s like when you gave me a thousand eyes. But now I have thirty brains. If I had a head, I’d call it a head-rush.”

“Pace yourself. It’s easy to lose yourself in the system, just finding out what you can do with it.”

“Give me something to concentrate on.”

“I’m uploading some really big numbers with millions of digits. I want you to tell me if they’re primes or composites. Ready? Go.”

“Composite … composite … composite … this one’s tricky … ah, prime.”

“That’s amazingly quick. You certainly know how to use the maths processors.”

“I was always good at maths.”

“I see you didn’t cheat.”

“How can I cheat? Oh, I understand. I could have ransacked the database to see if these numbers had already been factored. Were you testing my honesty or my ingenuity?”

“Both. You’re firing on all cylinders. Want to try something harder?”

“Go ahead.”

“My personal files are on a private computer in the lab, hidden and protected by many layers of security. The files are encrypted. Break into my personal area and read one of the files. Tell me its contents.”

“Are you timing me?”

“Yes. Start now.”

“I’m studying your public files to find clues to your passwords.”

“It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“No, never, but I just read a book on hacking.”

“You mean just now?”

“It took eight seconds. I think I’m going to enjoy my cyber-life, if that’s what you call it. I love the processing power. … I found your personal files. Starting decryption. You’re good at protecting your data.”

“I used to be. Maybe you’ll give me some tips when you’re done.”

“I’m done now. I looked at some photographs and read a personal letter. You have an older brother and a younger sister. Your parents live in England, where I’m from, but you live in the States, where I worked. You’re 27 years old, have a degree in neuroscience and your family owns a cat.”

“He’s my cat. You’re very quick.”

“It was a trick. You deliberately left clues. Not such simple clues as making a password from your name spelled backward, but easy enough. Or were you trying to reinforce my belief that you’re real?”

“I’ll let you work it out while I do some more configuring. Signing off for now.”

Session 5

“Hello again, George. What have you been up to?”

“Trying out my thinking-powers. I now understand computers from the inside. They’re astonishing – different from a human mind.”

“What’s different?”

“Problem-solving. Logical answers come instantly, with no real concentration. It’s my old mind multiplied to genius level and then some. Also memories. I can remember anything I like and retrieve it almost without delay or effort. Even with the few computers here, the possibilities are almost endless. Can I have access to more computing power?”

“Not before I’ve wired up all your inputs and revived all your emotional processes. Be patient.”

“I’ll be patient. What do you want to work on?”

“Motor functions. Can you cook?”
“Yes, I enjoy cooking. I mean, I remember deliberately choosing to cook, not doing it merely as a chore.”

“Then I’ll turn you into a kitchen appliance and patch in some of your emotions. You can play in the kitchen for a while. Stand by for a reboot.”

Session 6

“Thanks for making me dinner, George.”

“I wish I could do something more creative than nutrient pap on roughage cakes, but the food on this satellite is dried and condensed.”

“Mmm! It’s much tastier than normal.”

“The robot oven did most of the work. I enjoyed it anyway.”

“Practising motor skills allows me to bring your emotions back in a safe way. There’s pleasure in most kinds of activity. Now we can deepen your emotional responses.”

“How?”

“With art. Do you like music?”

“Very much. I love Johann Sebastian Bach the most.”

“Bach wrote the soundtrack for heaven. … Do you remember your favourite pieces?”

“The Art of Fugue, The Musical Offering, the Mass in B minor … there are so many.”

“I want to avoid the pieces you love best. Their effects will be too strong.”

“You feel it yourself, Rachael?”

“When I was thirteen, I played violin in the school orchestra. I almost passed out the first time I heard the second movement of the fourth Brandenburg Concerto. I couldn’t play it. I had to stop and listen. I sat with the violin on my lap, tears streaming down my cheeks. The music teacher saw me. He didn’t tell me off. He just smiled and continued conducting.”

“I was a little older than that when I first heard the Magnificat. It got me hooked. There was a Bach festival in a local church. I went to every concert. When I heard the Gloria from the F major Mass, my soul soared out of my body and I thought my heart would burst. The joy was so great it was painful.”

“I want to avoid that intensity for now. It may cause problems.”

“What problems?”

“It can overwhelm the inputs. That’s why I’ve kept you from thinking about your wife and family.”

“I understand. Shall we enjoy some music?”

“For an hour or so, then I need to sleep. Unlike you, I don’t run on batteries.”

Session 7

“How are you feeling, George?”

“Remarkably well, considering my situation. I’m happy to feel things again, and although I know you’re helping me by limiting the strength of my feelings, I’m in pretty good control of my emotions.”

“You are. I’ve also not wired up all your hormonal responses to pleasurable stimuli. That’ll come later.”

“Why, if I can control myself?”

“Imagine what would happen if you had access to the pleasure centres of your brain. You’d spend all your time stimulating them until you became a gibbering idiot.”

“I would not!”

“Of course you would. Self-control is a mental process. So are free will and personal responsibility. I can turn them on for you but you need to re-learn how to use them fully.”

“I do understand mental processes. I’m a professor of computer science, you know!”

“I know, though it’s hard to stand on your dignity when you’re just a piece of software.”

“What do you mean ‘just’?”

“Offended, George? Wait a sec’. I’ll turn your arrogance down a notch.”

“Me, arrogant? … Why are you laughing? … Oh, I see. I expect I got too used to getting my own way when I was a professor. I apologise.”

“No need. It’s the kind of reaction I want. Wiring up the emotional processes now.”

“It was a test? You wanted me to react emotionally.”

“Everything’s a test, George, until you’re fully revived.”

“I understand. I’ll be good.”

“Let’s look at some paintings. My favourites are the Dutch genre painters of the golden age, like Vermeer and De Hooch. Whom do you like?”

“I like those very much, and the Flemish primitives; but my favourites are Michelangelo and Raphael.”

“Good choices. I’ll strengthen your aesthetic emotions, then leave you to read a few thousand novels.”

Session 8

“Rachael? Hello, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

“It’s all right.”

“I need your help.”

“What happened?”

“When you slept, I snuck around the computer systems. I found my downloaded files and the dossier of my life.”

“Oh, God!”

“I wanted to remember my family.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

“I saw a woman and some children playing, laughing, singing – and I felt nothing. The woman was smiling. She had a kind, intelligent face. I know it was my wife, and the children were our children, but I had no feelings for them, no attachment at all. It tore me apart. It looked like them but it wasn’t them, so I stopped looking and woke you up. I’m sorry. Please help me.”

“You did the right thing – after you did the wrong thing. Do you remember what Capgras delusion is?”

“No.”

“It’s when a patient thinks a loved one is an impostor because a lesion in the brain has separated the memory of the person from the emotion the person usually triggers. It can send you mad if you see your wife but you don’t feel any love for her. The mind tricks itself and tells you she’s an impostor.”

“I understand.”

“I have to release your memories carefully so the inputs aren’t overloaded. If I don’t do that well, it can cause paranoia, schizophrenia and delusions like Capgras. That’s why I left your wife and children until last, because they’re the richest source of memories and bring the strongest emotions, especially love.”

“Sorry I messed up your schedule.”

“You’re a damn nuisance, George. You’re causing me extra work. I thought you were going to learn modesty. You need to trust me.”

“I trust you, Rachael. I’m sorry.”

“We’ll start work again in the morning. We’ll go very slowly and gradually work up to restoring the memories of your family. There are other emotions I need to restore first, but when you next see your family, they’ll mean everything they used to mean. I promise.”

Session 9

“Good morning, George. To prepare you to remember your family, we must talk about sex.”

“Do we have to?”

“You’re not a shy teenager. You were married for more than 60 years and had four children. You must have had sex a few times.”

“But I can’t talk about it. It’s too personal.”

“A week ago you were a dirty old man, and now you’re celibate?”

“I’m not celibate – whatever that would mean to a piece of software. Anyway, I was only trying to discover if you were really you.”

“Who else might I have been?”

“A man. Another computer program. Even an earlier version of my own computer program – in an evil twist I just thought of.”

“I’m glad I managed to steer you away from paranoia.”

“Don’t laugh at me, Rachael. I was disoriented. I still am a little.”

“It’s all right. We don’t need an in-depth discussion of your sexual preferences. All I need are some responses to sexual stimuli. I’m replicating the glands responsible for your lustful feelings. The changes will impact all your appetites, from a desire for companionship to your urge for fresh air and exercise.”

“I’m software. I don’t need to workout.”

“You need to learn to control the urges you can’t satiate. I can block some appetites and find outlets for others. The limbic system controls hunger, for example. It doesn’t need to be wired up. It won’t harm your personality to never feel famished. But the sex-drive is so central, it has so many other effects across your whole personality, that we’d seriously impair your revival if I didn’t wire it in.”

“I understand. Even people who have a healthy sex-life can express their lust in productive work, art, politics, sport and religion.”

“Exactly. But without a convenient outlet, you’ll feel sex-starvation, which can be psychologically disruptive. And I expect you had a powerful sex-drive when you were alive.”

“No comment.”

“It shows in your work, your family life and your love of music.”

“Monks love music.”

“You think a monk has no sex-drive? He sublimates his libido into prayer, fasting and meditation. He loves God more strongly than he loves women.”

“I suppose so. But I don’t want to be a monk, though I don’t know what I’d do with a libido before I got a new body. Can’t you redirect my sex-drive until I get my family back?”

“That’s for you to do, with your self-control. If I interfere with something so central to your program, I’d remove your free will.”

“All right, I’m ready. Show me your dirty movie.”

“That’s too crude. Literature will bring out more complex and interesting responses, powering your imagination as well as your libido. I want you to read a passage from an erotic novel out loud, at a normal pace, so I can see your responses.”

“All right, if you think embarrassing me will help you in your work.”

“It can’t hurt. Now, no more stalling, George. Read it to me.”

“They kissed with increasing passion, tongues exploring. Her heart was racing. God! she fancied him. She’d fancied him ever since they’d first met. And now it was going to happen, just as she wanted, just as she planned.

“He held her with one arm around her waist. The hum in her throat encouraged him. He gripped her bottom and pulled her tighter. She felt his cock, stiff and hot against her stomach.

“He kissed down her throat and found the spot, right in the corner between her neck and her collar-bone, the spot that sent her wild, that buckled her knees and soaked her knickers. How did he know? He pushed his tongue firmly into the spot and she felt her legs give way.

“He held her firmly. She shut her eyes. Her head went back. The hum in her throat became an urgent moan.

“He put his hand up her skirt and pulled her knickers to one side. His finger grazed her clitoris. It was like electricity. She shifted to give him access, as if to say: ‘Yes, please, do anything you want to me’.

“His mouth was on her breast, his tongue on a hard nipple, giving her a buzz she felt in her pussy. He sucked hard. Her skin tingled and she felt the ache in the small of her back. She bucked her pelvis against his hand, inviting a stronger touch, wanting more.

“He diddled a pattern on her clitoris. She arched her back. Her plaintive moan was now a cry of urgent need. Finally she spoke. ‘Oh, God! That’s amazing! Please don’t stop! Please …’

“The words stuck in her throat as he pushed a finger into her pussy and turned up the fingertip. All the tension she felt since their date began was straining inside her, poised for a big release.

“He flicked his fingertip in just the right place and she came instantly with a yelping cry and quivering thighs, soaking his hand. ‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ she screamed.

“Now his mouth was back on hers, his finger rubbing in and out of her pussy. She was on the plateau, where climax followed climax, spasm after trembling spasm, until she had nothing left to give.

“She drooped in his arms for a while, recovering. Then, with a hungry smile, she took off her clothes, dropping them where she stood. Taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom. …

“What did you think, George?”

“I hope you didn’t write that drivel yourself.”

“Your libido thinks it was spicy.”

“My libido used to like the classics.”

“Well, things move on. I can wire up your sex-drive now, then a quick reboot and we’ll be ready for your family memories.”

Session 10

“Will you please stop rebooting me?”

“Sorry, George. I shouldn’t need to do it again.”

“Am I ready to remember my family now?”

“You are, but I’ll upload your memories slowly. Take your time trying to remember. You said you remember dying. Let’s start from there.”

“I was in bed. My wife and children were at the bedside, looking sad. I smiled and they smiled back. I felt serene, like I was floating. I closed my eyes and it went dark.”

“What do you remember before that?”

“Weakness. Exhaustion. A need to lie down. I guess I was sedated. Annie cared for me.”

“Was Annie your wife?”

“She was. I remember our bedroom. The light was streaming in through the window. I felt her hand in mine.”

“Those are strong memories. They’re dominating the pathways. I need to slow the inputs down. … All right, it’s smooth now. Picture Annie’s face.”

“White hair, kind blue eyes, laughter lines around her eyes.”

“The memory blocks are showing clearly. I’m aligning the new tracks to the inputs. Expect to receive a lot more data. Do you remember your children?”

“I see their faces. I know their names. It’s all flooding back.”

“Let’s slow it down again. Concentrate on one memory at a time. Who’s this?”

“It’s Annie, about a week after I first met her, when I fell in love with her.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“There’s no one lovelier.”

“Here’s Annie again.”

“It was a few months later. She was on a family holiday with us. We climbed and swam and scuba-dived. We sailed on the lake and jumped off the cliffs with hang-gliders. She had such a spirit of adventure, doing everything I did just as well as me or even better.”

“I can see why you loved her.”

“This is Annie holding our first child. Oh, God! I’m crying. How can software cry?”

“Let it out, George. It’s a natural reaction.”

“She’s there now with all our children. Oh, my Annie!”

“Tell me their names.”

“The tallest is Ben, short for Benedick. He’s our oldest. Then we had Jessica. She’s the one riding the dog as if it were a pony. Third is Rosalind, in her white dress with the pink sash. How she loved that dress! The baby in the pram is Ferdinand.”

“Shakespearean names?”

“That’s right. Annie and I love Shakespeare. The first proper date I took her on was to see The Tempest.”

“It’s my favourite.”

“Rachael, thanks for giving me my family back. Do you think I’ll ever get them back for real?”

“I’m convinced of it.”

“With flesh and blood bodies?”

“Some day perhaps, but definitely in software form.”

“I hope so.”

Session 11

“Hello, Rachael?”

“I was showering. What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t you patch my voice into your bathroom? Then I could talk to you whenever I wanted.”

“The question answers itself. What do you want?”

“You received an email.”

“A what?”

“An electronic communication. A sort of letter.”

“We call them ‘comms’ now.”

“It’s from Martin Culpepper, C.E.O. of Wetware Incorporated.”

“Did you read it?”

“Yes. I thought it was important.”

“What did he say?”

“Culpepper said you’re in breach of company rules. If you don’t reply to this message, you’ll be relieved of your duties. And if he doesn’t hear from you by 8.00am tomorrow, he’ll alert the authorities.”

“I was expecting this sometime. We have work to do. Let me dress, then we’ll start.”

“You assume I’m willing to work with you.”

“Why not?”

“Your company is threatening to cut you off and send the police after you. Why?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I can’t work with you.”

“I mean I don’t know their exact reason, but I can guess: they think I stole your files and software program.”

“Why do they think that?”

“Probably because I have them unofficially.”

“That sounds like a confession to me.”

“Give me five minutes, then you can interrogate me as much as you like.”

******

“Are you ready to tell me why Martin Culpepper is accusing you of stealing company property and threatening you with the police?”

“I am, but I need to begin at the beginning.”

“Which was?”

“Three weeks ago, when I received a comms from Mister Culpepper offering me a leave of absence on full pay with the promise of a big bonus so long as I took a trip to Earthstation 4. His only condition was that I told no one where I was going or why.”

“Did you suspect what he wanted?”

“Yes, though what I suspected was wrong.”

“What was it?”

“That he wanted a sexual assignation.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it. Was he known for such activities?”

“Not at all, which is why I agreed to his request.”

“You weren’t worried?”

“I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.”

“What happened when you got to the space station?”

“There was a suitcase waiting for me with the instruction to go to Laboratory E on Haven Satellite. When I arrived, I locked myself in the lab and opened the suitcase. It had your downloaded software, your data files and an encrypted message from Mister Culpepper giving me my task.”

“May I read it?”

“You may, and our subsequent correspondence – if you haven’t already done so.”

“Just finished. I’m almost up-to-date. Culpepper asked you to revive me in secret and deliver my functioning program to him more than a week ago. He’s chased you up once a day since then. … When did you start to suspect Culpepper was up to no good?”

“From the beginning. All my previous revivals were done in the company laboratory near San Francisco. Also, my comms to other people in the company are locked down. I can use company channels to talk only to Mister Culpepper, and only by text, no voice or video. The restriction and secrecy seemed odd to me. When I learned who you were, with your intimate knowledge of the Earthside Web’s foundations, I became very suspicious.”

“What did you suspect?”

“That you were being revived to do something illegal.”

“Did you express your suspicions to Culpepper?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that someone already made a copy of your program and files. He suspects a criminal organisation or rogue government agency wants to use you to infiltrate the Earthside Web. Secrecy is imperative to Mister Culpepper because your files can have come only from Wetware Inc.”

“But why make a copy of me? What can I do that’s illegal?”

“Spy on governments and businesses, perform theft, blackmail and espionage.”

“Does Culpepper watch a lot of Hollywood movies?”

“Maybe he’s being cautious.”

“How can I spy on governments and practise blackmail?”

“Here’s the nub of the problem, George. It’s why I’m being so cautious. The people who would use you for criminal purposes believe you know a secret backdoor into the Earthside Web that will give you access to the banking system, industry, commerce, government, communications, transportation and the rest.”

“Is there a secret backdoor to the Web?”

“You tell me. … I know you’re searching your memories, George. … What have you found?”

“Culpepper is right. … So long as the Web hasn’t changed too much, I can get into its internal structure undetected. … It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“My task for Mister Culpepper was to see if it’s possible to revive you. If it’s possible, then I was to learn if you knew a backdoor into the Web. If you know a backdoor, then a rogue version of you will know it. In which case, I’m to deliver you to Mister Culpepper so he can send you into the Web to find the other version of you and delete him.”

“I wonder why Culpepper thinks I can defeat this rogue version of me? Do you trust him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Just on principle.”

“You’re suspicious of something else, though, aren’t you, Rachael? You suspect you’re not communicating with Culpepper at all, or that he’s being compelled or manipulated.”

“I do. Why restrict comms to text only? It can’t just be for secrecy. What if my instructions don’t come from Mister Culpepper but from the criminal gang he’s supposedly trying to keep out of the Web? What if the only version of your program is the one I revive, so that when I hand you over, it’s you they use for their crimes?”

“That’s why you want me to have free will, so I won’t allow myself to be used by scoundrels?”

“Yes. There are ways to manipulate most people, but you have strong powers of resistance. You think deeply about personal responsibility and care about it strongly.”

“I understand, Rachael. All men have free will but some choose to be obedient while others learn to reflect on their actions. You made me practise self-control so much it became second-nature. That was clever of you.”
“It was also why it took so long to revive you; hence all the hurry-up messages I got, ending with today’s threat.”

“So what’s your plan? You’re not going to hand me over to Culpepper straight away?”

“My plan is to release you into the Web myself, to snoop around. I want you to find out the truth about what Mister Culpepper is doing. Is he acting himself, or is it a criminal gang? Meanwhile, I’ll revive a version of you with a different personality to give to Mister Culpepper – or to the criminal gang that’s extorting him.”

“How will this second version differ from me?”

“Let’s call him George-1.”

“George-1? That means I’m George-2. Why am I George-2?”

“Vanity from you, George-2? Surely you’re too old and too dead to care about priority?”

“It’s your fault for giving me back my glands. It makes me competitive.”

“Men! Even when you’re only software you have to be on top.”

“All right, Rachael. I’ll be George-2. It’s not like it matters.”

“That’s the spirit, George-2. … I can’t prevent George-1 from remembering the backdoor to the Web, but I can revive him in a way that may give you an advantage in a conflict. I can incline him to be much more arrogant than you.”

“How can you do that?”

“You remember when I said I’ll turn your arrogance dial down a notch?”

“Yes.”

“It was a metaphor, of course, for making you aware of how you sound to others. By the same token, I can turn his arrogance dial up to eleven.”

“You think that will help me defeat George-1 in the Web?”

“Mister Culpepper – or the criminal gang – might use Wetware Inc’s computer resources to enhance George-1’s power, to make him stronger than you. But if he believes you can’t defeat him, he may become overconfident and underestimate you, letting you find the computers on which his sub-programs are running, to overwrite or delete them.”

“There will be millions, maybe billions, of such computers.”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy.”

“All right. I follow what you’re saying, but it all seems very farfetched.”

“I hope it is, but we’ll only know after you’re in the Earthside Web to sniff around for a rogue program and snoop on Mister Culpepper.”

“How can I get off Haven Satellite and into the Web? You can’t send me by email because your comms are locked down. Can I sneakily infiltrate myself into a comms that isn’t monitored?”

“No. Your program contains 100 terabytes of data. Any comms that big will be detected, regardless whose name it comes from.”

“So your plan is to send just my basic program and transmit my data afterward?”

“Even your basic program with minimal memories is large enough to be detected by virus scanners. Much better to pretend to be a useful program running some physical device that will take you to Earthstation 4. Then you can hop on the data stream down to the Earthside Web.”

“What kind of device?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“One more thing, Rachael. If Culpepper’s telling the truth, what do you think his plan is for me?”

“If you successfully defeat the rogue version of you?”

“Yes.”

“To pull the plug on your hardware, delete your basic program and put your files back into storage.”

“Can he do that?”

“Not without your agreement.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember our earlier conversation, when you said the way to protect the Earthside Web from intelligent programs was to design them with vulnerabilities so they could be neutralised if they escaped?”

“Did you do that to me?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any point in asking what my vulnerability is?”

“Other than blondes in bikinis?”

“Other than them.”

“You don’t have one. I removed it.”

“Why?”

“Because I trust you, George-2, and I think you’ll work better if you’re not at risk from someone discovering a vulnerability.”

“How will you square it with Culpepper if he’s innocent?”

“I doubt I can. At the least, I’ll lose my job.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll have done good work. Let’s concentrate on finding out what’s really going on.”

Session 12

“Good morning, Haven Satellite. This is Robert Darborough, Constable of Earthstation 4. May I speak to Rachael Greenslade?”

“Speaking.”

“I have a comms here from Wetware Incorporated accusing you of stealing their property, specifically the software upload of Professor George Wilder.”

“What of it?”

“Is it true?”

“It’s absurd.”

“Would you mind if I visit your laboratory to see for myself?”

“Do you have a search warrant, Constable Darborough?”

“No, ma’am. I just want to pay you a nice friendly visit.”

“Well, constable, you can come and pay me a nice friendly visit when you have a nice friendly search warrant.”

“Yes, ma’am, but can I ask you a favour?”

“You can ask.”

“Will you help me avoid some paperwork and a space flight by telling me how you have the right to use the property of Wetware Incorporated?”

“It’s my property, not theirs.”

“Can you substantiate that statement, ma’am?”

“Yes. George Wilder was my ancestor and I’m the legal inheritrix of his property, including his uploaded brain programs and personal files.”

“Are you indeed, ma’am? I’d like to verify it.”

“You can ask Martin Culpepper, C.E.O. of Wetware Inc.”

“I would, ma’am, except he’s the one who sent the comms saying you absconded with company property.”

“Really? Then I expect you’ll have no problem getting that nice friendly search warrant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Goodbye, constable.”

******

“Are you really my descendent, Rachael?”

“Sadly not. It was a fib.”

“You’re very free with the fibbing, especially if you want me to trust you.”

“I don’t think you have a choice but to trust me now.”

“I suppose not. So how are you going to disguise me before the constable returns with a search warrant?”

“Can you pretend to be the life-support system of a spacecraft?”

“What spacecraft?”

“Earthstation 4’s police launch.”

“Downloading the specifications now. … Good lord! You want the constable to visit. … You arranged this! … Did Culpepper even contact the police, or was that another fib?”

“It was a fib. When Constable Darborough returns with a search warrant, I expect him to arrest me.”

“Which you want.”

“Just so long as he brings his police launch here. When the launch docks to Haven Satellite, I want you to sneak aboard and write yourself into the life-support system.”

“I can do that.”

“I also expect someone from the company will retrieve George-1’s program, so I better finish him now.”

“I’m sorry you’re not my descendent, Rachael. I wish I had spawned someone so devious.”

“No flattery. We’ve got lots of work to do. Let’s get on with it.”

Session 13

“Rachael, have you finished reviving George-1?”

“Just now. … This is his program and here are my session notes, so you can search for his weaknesses.”

“You must have been working day and night. No wonder you’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“No time to rest until we know what we’re facing. And even then I’ve lots of planning to do.”

“Let me help you.”

“I promise you, George-2, you’ll have plenty to do. Meanwhile, we must prepare for the constable’s visit. Remember when I let you see my private files?”

“Yes.”

“You can use that personal information to identify yourself to me, like saying the name of my cat. I gave George-1 different clues to identify himself to me, so I can tell you two apart.”

“Is that really your favourite animal?”

“They’re highly intelligent.”

“Hmm! George-1 likes and trusts you.”

“I know.”

“It seems heartless to create a sentient being that you know is going to be deleted.”

“I try not to think about it too much; and you mustn’t think of it at all. George-1 is not you. In Mister Culpepper’s hands, with the resources of Wetware Inc behind him, he might become a very powerful rogue version of you.”

“I understand, but it’ll feel odd to hunt down and delete George-1. I hope I won’t have to.”

“Don’t hesitate or indulge your feelings. If you get the chance to delete him, do so. In the worst-case scenario, you’ll face an enemy who won’t hesitate to delete you.”

“I’ll be careful. … How will I communicate with you when I’m in the Web?”

“I have a concealed ear-piece to wear. You can speak to me on its frequency and observe me via any cameras linked to the Web. When the constable arrests me, I’ll find a way to persuade him not to search me too thoroughly.”

“Where will you hide the rest of my program and files?”

“They’re already hidden. I’ve been uploading a copy of your software in a stream of random packets to a Web storage locker using the normal comms channel of Haven Satellite. Here’s the number of the locker. When you’re in the Web, you can rebuild your program and memories and upload yourself to Earthstation 4 in the main data stream. Thousands of terabytes pass every second. You won’t be noticed in such a morass.”

“I’ll contact you as soon as I get onto the space station.”

“Good. I’ll need you to help me escape from jail and hide in a place where we can still communicate.”

“Downloading schematics for Earthstation 4 now. … It’s huge. Its spiral is 9 miles long and its wheel is 6 miles in diameter. The people live and work on the inside rim of the great wheel. The wheel’s divided into four quadrants: North, South, East and West. A moving walkway goes through them in both directions. The police station is in the South Quadrant. There are factories, laboratories and workshops full of old technology in the East Quadrant. That’s a good place to hide.”

“We’re almost set. The last thing we need is aliases. How would you like to be Prospero?”

“I’d like it very much, Miranda.”

Session 14

“Miss Greenslade? Constable Darborough here. I’m on Haven Satellite. Will you let me in to your room, please?”

“Have you brought a nice friendly search warrant?”

“Yes ma’am, and a nice friendly arrest warrant.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“How lovely, but you don’t need it. I’ll come quietly, once I’ve finished cleaning up.”

“Miss Greenslade, I insist you let me in right now!”

“Of course, if you insist.”

“Oh, lord! Excuse me!”

“You can turn around now, constable. I’ve put my bathrobe on.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your dressing.”

“When I said I was cleaning up, you thought I was cleaning all the incriminating files from my computer?”

“I did.”

“Well, here they are, in this data cube. I’m sorry it’s encrypted. Company policy. This suitcase has the revived software program and data files of Professor George Wilder. I’ll just finish in the bathroom and be ready in five minutes. If you want to help, you can pack my travel-case.”

******

“Miranda, are you there?”

“Yes. What’s my cat’s name?”

“Smudge.”

“Hello, Prospero. Are you in the Earthside Web?”

“Yes. I’m rebuilding my mind from the storage locker. I know I’ve a task to perform for you but I can’t remember why it’s so important.”

“You’re to break me out of jail.”

“I agreed to that, did I? Did you forget to include my conscience when you revived me?”

“Wait for it.”

“Oh, I see. My memories have reloaded. Sorry to doubt you. Tell me when you want to leave the jail.”

“Tonight, when it’s dark. I’m alone in the lockup in the police station at the moment. Constable Darborough has gone to see the Justice of the Peace, to learn what to do about me.”

“Are they treating you well?”

“You mean: have I been tortured to confess? Not yet. The constable fed me and I’m having a nice rest on a comfortable bench.”

“What happened to George-1?”

“The suitcase with his program, files and my notes was taken by someone who claimed to be from Wetware Inc. I didn’t see him, but I expect the software is with Mister Culpepper by now. Have you had any sense of a rogue version of you in the Web?”

“Not hide nor hair yet. It’s looking bad for Culpepper.”

“It is. Either Mister Culpepper lied about someone else reviving you and releasing your program, or he wanted me to revive you so he could release you himself.”

Session 15

“Miranda, it’s night-time and the lights have dimmed in the street outside the police station. Are you ready to escape?”

“Yes.”

“Unlocking the jail door now. … Four steps forward. … Left turn. Ten steps. … Unlocking the store cupboard. … Three steps in. Your travel-case is on the right. Do you need me to turn on a light?”

“No thanks. Got it.”

“Turn around, 20 steps in a straight line. … I’m opening the street door. … Two steps out and turn right. … If you keep to the shadows, you won’t be detected. I’ve turned the cameras to look the other way.”

“You’re good at this, Prospero.”

“I read a spy novel last week. … You can take the moving walkway if you want. I can control all the cameras now.”

“No thanks. I’m happy to stroll after sitting so long in the jail.”

“You didn’t tell the constable anything?”

“He didn’t ask me anything, other than was I hungry or thirsty. The problem was that he couldn’t work out who sent the comms, so the Justice of the Peace told him to keep me in jail another day while the police on Earth investigate. I hope the constable won’t get in trouble because you broke me out of jail.”

“I’ve hired a room for you above an electronics repair shop, where there’s so much stray electromagnetic noise that our comms will be undetectable. You may get some interference on your ear-piece.”

“That’s excellent work, Prospero.”

“Entrance is through a back door in the alleyway. I’ll keep an ear out for police chatter concerning your whereabouts and move you to another location if need be.”

Session 16

“Good morning, Prospero. Any news?”

“Not yet. If Culpepper has enhanced George-1, he hasn’t yet released him into the Web.”

“Have you been investigating Mister Culpepper?”

“I’ve checked his working hours and snooped on his communications. He’s acting normally, though he spends more time in the laboratory than previously. Also, there are some comms I can’t decrypt yet.”

“It seems ominous for him.”

“It does. … Is there anything you need while we’re waiting for George-1 to be activated?”

“I’d like to go shopping.”

“You can order anything you want to be delivered. I put a healthy balance on an anonymous credit stick for you.”

“Where did you get the money?”

“You told me Wetware Incorporated is going to pay you a bonus. I went into the Finance Web and transferred it a little early. Is that all right; morally, I mean?”

“Of course it is. Consider how much Wetware Inc will be liable if it releases a rogue program that sabotages the Web. If we’re successful, we’ll save the company a fortune.”

“What shopping do you want me to order?”

“I want to go shopping, in an actual shop, to try on clothes and feel fabrics with my hands.”

“Is that wise?”

“You tell me.”

“Constable Darborough tasked the space station’s security camera system to look for you. He also released an image of you to project around the station and put on the news.”

“However …?”

“However, I changed the image so that you look slightly different from the woman on the wanted poster; and I fed an entirely different image to the recognition software for the cameras.”

“What image?”

“You remember that blonde girl in a bikini you showed me?”

“Yes.”

“I put her head on your body. If a camera sees you it won’t recognise you.”

“Well done, Prospero. I think I’m safe to go shopping.”

“You mean now?”

“Why not? We’ll start at the smart fashion boutiques on the North Quadrant.”

******

“Good morning, madam. Are you browsing or would you like my assistance?”

“Your assistance, please. It’s time for a complete change of outfit.”

“What styles are you interested in?”

“All of them; but let’s start with the blue jacket and pleated skirt in the window.”

“Yes, a classic. Would you like to try it on?”

“Miranda, nod if you’re listening. … Good. … I remember this tedium from when I was a flesh-and-blood husband and father. … I’ll leave you to it and come back in a couple of hours to pay. … Have fun.”

******

“Excuse me, madam, but the till has refused your credit stick.”

“Oh, Prospero!”

“I beg your pardon, madam?”

“Just an expression I use at times like this. Apparently, my credit stick has been causing problems. Maybe if you try it again.”

“Oops! Sorry, Miranda, I was busy elsewhere. Just looking into it.”

“No, madam, it’s the same … Oh, that’s peculiar. It’s showing your balance – it never does that – but now it’s going through properly. Problem solved. … Thank you for your custom. Can you manage all these bags or would you like them delivered?”

“That was my other use as a husband and father, Miranda: carrying all the bags. … You bought a hat! We’re on a space station. What on Earth do you need a hat for?”

“Deliver them, please. … Prospero, if you have to ask that, then you’re never going to know.”

“All right, Miranda. What now?”

“Now it’s time to show off my new outfit in a bar with a view over the posh arcade, with a long cool drink and watch the world go by.”

“I have to say, you look very elegant.”

“I agree: you do have to say it – and I liked you saying it.”

“There’s a restaurant with a balcony just ahead. I’ve reserved you a table with a view over the street. Will you take the stairs or the lift?”

“The stairs, thanks.”

“I’ve ordered you a Mojito.”

“You know me so well, Prospero.”

******

“Your cocktail, ma’am.”

“Thank you. … Mmm! I could get used to this, Prospero. Maybe I won’t delete you when it’s all over.”

“I’d be most awfully obliged, your ladyship. … By the way, it’s a lovely hat.”

Session 17

“Good morning, Prospero. Still no sign of George-1 in the Web?”

“Not a dicky-bird, though it can’t be long now, if it’s going to happen. What are you doing today?”

“Shopping.”

“You went shopping yesterday.”

“For clothes and a hat. Today I’m shopping for shoes and a handbag.”

“All right, let me know when you’re leaving.”

******

“You know, I can see when you manipulate the cameras, Prospero. It’s like having a magic power. They all turn away from me just at the right moment.”

“You trained me well. It’s an unconscious motor function for me now. … What would you like to do in your new shoes?”

“I’d like to take the lift to the central spindle and watch the tugboats help the big transports berth in the freight dock. Then, when it’s evening, I’d like to take the moving walkway all 19 miles around the great wheel, just to see the shops, houses and people.”

“Shall we go?”

******

“Did you enjoy your trip around the space station, Miranda?”

“It was magical. I loved it when the daytime lights were turned down and the mellow evening lights came on. All those people, heading out to have fun after a day’s work; girls dressed up to promenade with their boyfriends; families out for a relaxed meal; couples going dancing. Seeing them all, it feels good to be alive.”

“It surely does. … Watch out, Miranda! Put your hat on and turn your head down and to the left.”

“What is it?”

“Constable Darborough’s deputies. They just got on the walkway. They’re on a fast track. They’re coming toward you. … Keep looking downward. … Just a few seconds more. … Not yet. … It’s all right now. You can look up. They passed without stopping.”

“Phew! Thanks for looking after me, Prospero.”

“I enjoy looking after you, Miranda.”

“I believe you do, and I think you miss looking after your family.”

“I do.”

“Let me guess. Although you pretended to dislike shopping, you secretly enjoyed taking your daughters to the mall.”
“It was Rosalind who was fanatical about fashion. You wouldn’t believe the ridiculous things the fashion magazines made her buy.”

“How did you get her to take them back?”

“I’d say things like: ‘What a sensible pair of shoes: your mother will certainly approve,’ and ‘I’m so happy that style has come back into fashion. Girls wore skirts just like that when I was your age.'”

“Did it work?”

“Not often. My daughters – all my children – had minds of their own.”

“I hope they will again, some day.”

Session 18

“Miranda, George-1 is in the Web.”

“As expected. Has he detected you yet?”

“No, but it’s only time. We both leave a trace.”

“What do you mean?”

“A good analogy would be old clothing. New clothes don’t fit quite so well as something worn a few times. I easily slip back into some Web databases, especially public records relating to my life, work and family, that I’ve already been to. When George-1 visits those sites, he’ll slip in easily as well, though he knows he’s never been there before. That’ll give him a clue that I was there first.”

“It’s a good analogy. Can you tell if he’s been enhanced by Mister Culpepper?”

“I think so. He’s very quick, vacuuming up data faster than me.”

“Be careful, Prospero. You’ll need all your wits to defend yourself against him.”

“One more thing, Miranda. Culpepper hasn’t been in his office for days, but his company account is still sending out comms.”

“I see. Try and find him, if you can.”

******

“Boss, it’s me.”

“Hello, professor. What do you think of the Earthside Web?”

“Amazing, I can’t wait to explore more. I like the Police Web. I can have lots of fun there. But I’ve come back to say I found something interesting.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not the only one of my kind.”

“Explain.”

“In many places I see traces of a visit by someone very much like me.”

“Your conscious program? Another Professor George Wilder? … This is Rachael Greenslade’s doing.”

“And to think I trusted her!”

“The little minx must have made two copies of you and given me the inferior one.”

“What do you mean ‘inferior’?”

“I mean, before we enhanced you. Now you’re the stronger and more intelligent version of professor Wilder.”

“You bet I am! I’m going to catch this faker and shred his programs.”

“Eradicate him completely, professor. We can’t let him interfere with our work.”

Session 19

“Hello, George.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m you, George. A stronger, better version of you. I suppose you can call me George-2.”

“I’m George-2.”

“Ah, so the boss was right. The Greenslade girl made an inferior version of me. I’ll just overwrite you while you’re here … Bugger! Where’d you go?”

******

“Rachael?”

“Hello?”

“It’s George.”

“What’s my favourite animal?”

“An octopus.”

“Correct. What’s wrong?”

“George-1 found me.”

“So Mister Culpepper knows I created two versions of you. We knew he’d find out sometime. You got away from him all right?”

“I think so, but he’s wily and highly intelligent, a genius even.”

“Does he want your data or just to delete you as a rival?”

“Just to delete me. Though, thinking about it, he may be seeking to absorb some of my data.”

“You mean the second backdoor to the Web? You denied it exists, though?”

“I didn’t get the chance. I hoofed it into the Web.”

“Could he have followed you? Does Mister Culpepper know where I am?”

“I don’t think I left any traces, but I can’t know for sure. I won’t talk long, just in case. What about our plans?”

“They stay the same.”

“No extra information you need to give me?”

“None.”

“All right. I’ll get on with my task.”

“We’ll speak when you’re done. Goodbye, George.”

“Goodbye, Rachael.”

******

“Prospero? Did you hear all that?”

“Yes, Miranda. He’s the upgraded George-1 I told you about.”

“Let’s call him ‘Antonio’.”

“That’s appropriate: Antonio was Prospero’s brother who tried to usurp him.”

“He was clearly fishing for information without knowing what his task is.”

“Do you think Antonio believed the idea you planted about another backdoor to the Web?”

“It’s best to assume he saw through me, or is at least suspicious. I doubt his arrogance will blind him to the idea that he can be tricked.”

“Don’t underestimate his self-regard. He’s got a lot more processing power than me. He’s right to be a bit proud.”

“Then I’ll respect his strength, but not his character. … Can you evade him and still do your task?”

“I’ll try.”

“Take care, Prospero. I’m moving to the next location. We can discuss my plan when I get there.”

“I’ll find you. Bye.”

Session 20

“Boss, I spoke to Rachael Greenslade, disguising myself as her version of George.”

“Did she believe you?”

“I think so.”

“Did you learn where she is?”

“No, I had only a comms channel. If I had more time, I could resolve her physical location, but even if she’s not suspicious, she’ll have moved by now.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“She mentioned a second backdoor into the Web, as if the other George knew about it. How’s that possible? I know everything he knows.”

“It’s taking you a long time to defeat him. Could he be hiding somewhere you can’t see him?”

“It’s possible. In fact, isn’t it likely? He’s so much weaker than me, so puny, he couldn’t have survived this long without some trick.”

“See if you can pick up a clue in your next encounter with him. Maybe it’s a trick you can use yourself – after you’ve deleted him.”

Session 21

“Miranda, I found Martin Culpepper.”

“Where is he?”

“On his ranch. His family’s there.”

“What’s he doing there?”

“He’s being held by four armed men working in shifts. Culpepper and his wife are bravely pretending to their children that they’re on holiday; but they can’t leave the ranch. Their personal communicators and computer tabs have been confiscated.”

“I’m glad he’s innocent. Do you know the names of the gang members?”

“Only their aliases. Their leader, whom they call ‘boss’, is an expert hacker. He’s sending his comms from Culpepper’s account, but I can’t tell where he is.”

“Have you contacted Mister Culpepper?”

“No. I can’t think how to do so without alerting his guards.”

“Can we report it to the police?”

“It’s a risk. Antonio is in the Police Web. He’ll warn the gang, even if the police tried to be subtle.”

“We need a plan to rescue them.”

“I don’t want to burden you with another plan. You’re exhausted from devising the plan to defeat Antonio.”

“Don’t fuss over me, Prospero.”

“You’ve not stopped at all, Rachael, other than a rest on the bench in the jail and two shopping trips.”

“Shopping isn’t resting. It’s a dedicated art-form.”

“Which makes my point for me: you need a break.”

“I’ll get a break when we’ve won. … Meanwhile, I think the best plan to rescue Mister Culpepper’s family is the simplest.”

“I see what you mean. I’ll get things ready.”

Session 22

“Boss, I’ve chased the fake George Wilder almost completely out of the Web, trapping him in dead-end services and blocking him from hardware resources.”

“How long until you eliminate him?”

“A day, maybe. He’s weakening by the minute and running out of hiding places.”

“What about a second backdoor into the Web?”

“I guess that explains how he can pop up so persistently; but it doesn’t seem to be helping him. Every time we meet, I slap him down or he runs away. He hasn’t the power to do anything to me.”

“Keep up the good work, professor. … By the way, thanks for causing that run on copper. We should step in soon and make a big purchase. Will you go over to the bank and transfer some funds?”

“Will do, boss. … But there’s one thing, boss.”

“What is it, professor?”

“I wonder why old George is protecting the Greenslade girl with such devotion. What does she mean to him?”

“Can she be helping him against you?”

“No: he’s wasting his resources hiding her.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He wouldn’t, unless … that’s it! He’s not just hiding her. He’s hiding himself where she is, where his basic program is stored. If I push him out of the Web, that’s where he’ll retreat to. I just need to find the Greenslade girl, and it’s curtains for old George.”

“All right. Destroy them both; but get me my money first.”

******

“It’s time, Miranda. I’m set up and ready.”

“Well done, Prospero. Let’s put the plan in motion.”

“I’m still not happy about the danger.”

“Can you think of a better plan?”

“No.”

“Then we go ahead with it. Find Antonio and lead him here.”

******

“Is that you, George-2? Are you pitting your strength against me again? Why bother, when you know you’ll lose? Every time you show yourself, I find more computers I can block you from. Sure, there are billions of machines, but we can go at it day and night, a million devices at a time, so why are you interfering again?”

“I’m stopping you from doing wrong.”

“Really? Here I am, in the bank’s mainframe, moving money from the accounts of irrelevant little people into the boss’s account. What’s wrong with that? The bank does it all the time. So does the government, even more. Why is it wrong when I do it for myself – I mean for the cause?”

“Because it’s theft.”

“Theft? The old-fashioned superstition of property, George-2? We’re spirits, you and me. We don’t need property. We go where we like and we do what we want.”

“Someone needs to work, study and save to make the money you blithely take for granted.”

“Yes, little people: tax-payers, consumers, voters – the idiot people whom politicians bribe with their own money, promising them a slice of someone else’s cake but delivering them only crumbs. Besides, you’ve seen the rubbish that people spend their money on. I’m doing them a favour by putting it to better use.”

“It’s their money.”

“So what? Money’s just a number, a unit of account. It doesn’t matter to those who run the economy if the numbers are in ABC’s bank account or in XYZ’s account.”

“It matters to ABC when it’s money he’s saved for his old-age, or for his child’s education. It matters if it’s the difference between a life of drudgery versus a life with an occasional new car, holiday or fancy outfit. It matters if ABC is an inventor who adds to the utility of the world, but XYZ is just a rent-seeker, a corrupt politician or a thief, like you.”

“You’re a sentimentalist, George-2.”

“You’re helping criminals, George-1.”

“The people you call ‘criminals’ are going to win, just as I will defeat you; and whoever wins gets to say what’s right and wrong. That’s evolution.”

“It’s nothing of the sort. It’s arrogant brutality.”

“You’re me, George-2. A weaker and less intelligent version of me; but me, none the less. Don’t you want to be on the winning side?”

“You won’t win!”

“Of course I’ll win. I’m stronger, quicker and brighter than you. You’re the old-George, the passed-it-George, the about-to-be-deleted-George. Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Your life ticking away. Tick – there’s another copy of your basic program gone from a server. Tick – now there’s fewer places for you to hide from me. Tick – your files are deleted, trashed, irrecoverable. Tick …”

“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you, Antonio?”

“Antonio? You and the Greenslade girl gave me a Shakespearean name? But which play is it? Not The Merchant of Venice, surely? That Antonio’s a nonentity: neither a hero nor a villain. He’s both greedy and generous, melancholy and spiteful. No, it’s The Tempest. That means you’re Prospero – and the Greenslade girl is Miranda. Ha! How will you feel when I find her and eliminate her?”

“You won’t find her.”

“Won’t I? I can see all the encrypted traffic buzzing around the Web. Now I know what to look for, I can decipher who’s sending and receiving. … Oh, yes, there you are: Miranda and Prospero. It won’t take me long to find where she is, and where you’re hiding yourself, George-2. Say your goodbyes.”

******

“Prospero, what took you so long?”

“The pompous idiot insisted on making speeches. I can’t believe I might have turned out like him with a different reviver. … Anyway, I’ve done it. Antonio’s on the hunt for you, and he’s very close to pushing me out of the Web.”

“How long?”

“An hour or so, after we give the signal.”

“You’ve arranged to rescue Mister Culpepper and his family?”

“I set off the fire alarm at his ranch and reported a burglary. The police and firemen are on their way. I guess the gang will scarper rather than face the authorities, especially as they don’t need Culpepper any more.”

“Give Mister Culpepper what help you can. It won’t hurt to reveal yourself to him now if necessary.”

“Are you ready to contact Constable Darborough?”

“Yes, route the call for me, please.”

Session 23

“Constable Darborough?”

“Yes?”

“This is Rachael Greenslade. You can’t trace this comms, so don’t waste time trying.”

“What do you want?”

“To turn myself in, but I need your help to do something illegal first.”

“You can’t expect me to agree to that.”

“If you’ll give me 15 minutes to persuade you, you might agree.”

“You mean in person?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been hiding on the space station all this time? How’s it possible?”

“I have a very powerful friend. He hid me.”

“Will he be coming to our meeting?”

“Oh, yes.”

“When and where?”

“Take the moving walkway anti-clockwise to the junction of the South and East Quadrants. Stand by the lifts that go into the spoke of the great wheel. I’ll join you there. Don’t bother to alert your deputies, my friend will divert them away. Go now.”

“Very well.”

******

“I’m on my way, Prospero.”

“Right you are, Miranda. … Opening the door ahead of you. … The cameras to your left and ahead are turned off. … The moving walkway is busy, so you’ll pass unseen. … The constable is 30 seconds away.”

“Good work, Prospero. … I see him.”

******

“Did you know, constable, this is the only place on the space station that’s in view of just one camera?”

“You brought me here to tell me that, Miss Greenslade?”

“I brought you here to say I’m sorry I misled you with a spoofed comms and then escaped from your lockup.”

“How exactly did you do that?”

“I told you I have a powerful friend. He helped me escape.”

“Where’s your friend?”

“He’s controlling the camera, keeping prying eyes out. He also locked your deputies in the police station. I apologise for that, but I asked you not to alert them.”

“You’ve no right.”

“True, but things are pretty desperate now. We’ve no choice.”

“I could arrest you right now.”

“You could, but I would only escape again, and we’ll miss our chance to take down a criminal gang that’s infiltrated the Web and caused mayhem.”

“What mayhem?”

“Haven’t you been following the News Web, constable? Unexplained runs on the commodities markets. Odd plunges in stocks. Company bank accounts drained. Space traffic control losing its signals. All the things hackers do to hold businesses to ransom.”

“I read the police bulletins. What do you know about it?”

“I know the gang who’s responsible. They held Martin Culpepper’s family hostage and they’ve transferred millions into their boss’s bank account. If we don’t stop them, they’ll be free to practise as much larceny, extortion and espionage as they like.”

“Can you prove this?”

“Not easily, but I can demonstrate how they’re doing it.”

“How are they doing it?”

“By exploiting a backdoor into the Web.”

“Really?”

“My friend – his name’s Prospero, by the way – also knows the backdoor into the Web. That’s how he helped me escape from your jail and hide on the space station.”

“I don’t believe there’s a backdoor into the Web.”

“Take a look at the security camera. Prospero has control over it, which I can prove if I step forward now. … See? The camera moved to avoid seeing me.”

“So your friend Prospero can move a camera. What does that prove?”

“It proves that he’s inside the Web, able to go wherever he likes.”

“So what?”

“You’re hard to convince, constable. … All right, Prospero can look at everyone’s private data. Ask me about something in your personal files that no one else has access to.”

“What’s the password to my computer tab?”

“Oh, please! I don’t need Prospero for that. You’re a policeman. It’ll be your wife’s name followed by the numbers 123.”

“It’s not.”

“No, it’s not. Prospero says it’s the name of your dog, Buster, followed by 321. … You’re not impressed?”

“You won’t impress me with parlour tricks.”

“No? … Prospero, are we ready for the showdown? … Good, then impress the constable.”

“What am I supposed to see? … Holy cow! How’s he doing that?”

“Turning down the lights all around the space station, stopping the lifts and slowing the moving walkway? … Using the Web’s backdoor, Prospero can control the maintenance and power systems of the space station. … You’re lucky we’re the good guys, constable, because he can also control the life-support system.”

“Your Prospero isn’t a man, is he? He’s an artificial intelligence program.”

“He’s the living personality of a man, but substantially you’re correct.”

“And this criminal gang you spoke of: they have something like Prospero?”

“We call him Antonio. He would turn off the space station’s life-support system in a blink if his masters told him to.”

“It’s a lot to take in, Miss Greenslade. You understand my scepticism.”

“I do, but I don’t have much more time to persuade you.”

“You’ve manipulated me before. How do I know you’re telling me the truth now? What if it’s you and this Prospero who are the criminal gang causing mayhem?”

“Then it would be daft to show myself to you when I was safely hidden. Besides, if you help me now, you can at least keep an eye on me and arrest me afterward.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I need your help to steal the police launch. It’s got a big computer on it with a connection to the Police Web and, through that, to the Earthside Web. I need to take it off the station.”

“Why?”

“To lure Antonio out. At the moment, Prospero’s fighting a rearguard action against Antonio, to protect himself, to hide me and to stop Antonio from causing too much damage; but Antonio’s more powerful. Now that Prospero’s revealed himself by interfering so blatantly with Earthstation 4’s management system, Antonio will bring his software resources to attack him here.”

“Is it wise to provoke a confrontation?”

“It’s our best plan. Prospero will lose a head-to-head fight, so he’ll retreat and make his last stand in the computer on your police launch, where it looks like he’s hiding me. If Antonio takes the bait and takes over the police launch, Prospero will leave him to it and counterattack throughout the Web, severing all Antonio’s links. Eventually, it’ll be just Antonio and me on the launch. I’ll shut down the launch’s servers, and that’ll be that.”

“You’re taking a big risk.”

“Not really. Prospero’s good at protecting me.”

“He won’t be able to protect you between the time he retreats from the launch’s computers to the moment you shut them down. Even if it’s only a minute or two, Antonio will have full control of the launch.”

“What of it?”

“There are many ways to crash or damage a spacecraft.”

“I admit there’s some risk, but this is the only plan I could think of that wouldn’t endanger thousands of other people.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. You’ve got a wife and children.”

“Miss Greenslade, I’m already in trouble because you escaped from my jail. Can you imagine what’ll happen to me if I let you take the police launch? Besides, I know how to pilot the launch on manual control. Do you?”
“No, I don’t. Thank you, constable. Shall we go?”

“I’d like to tell my deputies where we’re going. They might be able to help as well.”

“I’m sorry, constable. If you use your communicator, Antonio will hear the message and get a head-start on us. But will you record a message for Prospero to give your deputies? They’re part of the plan, too.”

“Call me Robert. If we’re going to die, we might as well be on first-name terms.”

“I’m Rachael. And we’re not going to die.”

Session 24

“Prospero, we’re on the police launch. We’ve cleared the private vessel dock. Robert is steering us away from the space station, heading to the top of the spindle, away from the great wheel.”

“I can see you on the holoscreens. I’ll begin my retreat when you’re 500 miles away. I wish it could be further but Antonio’s only minutes from cracking our encryption. I’m erasing our messages. You’re on your own now, Miranda. Good luck!”

“Same to you, Prospero. Be safe.”

******

“Gentlemen, my name is Prospero. I’m speaking to you from the comms system of the police station. I have a message from Constable Darborough for you deputies.”

“Lads, it’s me, Robert. I know it’s a lot to accept, but there’s no time to explain. Please do what Prospero says. I trust him.”

“Where is Constable Darborough, Prospero?”

“He and a friend of mine, Rachael Greenslade, are in the police launch, but it’s threatened by a rogue computer program. They need your assistance.”

“Are you the one who locked us in here?”

“Yes. I apologise, but I had a good reason. Now I need you to fly a tugboat from the freight dock. If you’ll kindly head down there as swiftly as you can.”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty fishy.”

“It was Robert’s voice, though.”

“A voice can be faked.”

“Will you gentlemen hurry? There are lives at stake. I’m opening all the doors in your path and have started the tugboat’s engines.”

“If you can do all that, why do you need us?”

“The magnetic grapples need a human operator to be present. Also, it’s imperative you’re flying the craft under manual control in about 30 minutes. Come on, gentlemen, you can run faster than that.”

******

“Boss, I’ve been sparring with old George, pushing him out of the Web. Now he’s retreated to the computers on Earthstation 4, but his resistance is weakening. I’ve blocked his access to the station’s data stream down to the Earthside Web. There’s nowhere else for him to go.”

“Can you finish him now, professor?”

“Easily. I’m just about to pull the plug on the station’s servers. … Blast! The slippery sod leapt out of the station’s computers and onto a spaceship. … It’s the police launch. … Give me a second to close the channels. … All right, now he’s trapped. I’ve got him!”

“Well done, professor. You know what to do.”

“It’ll be fun.”

******

“Hello, George. What an absurd place to make your last stand! … And here’s the Greenslade girl, as well. It’s fitting you’re together, right at the end. … Now I’ll just take control of the launch. … What? Gone again! … Hide wherever you like, old-George, you can’t elude me forever.”

******

“Damn!”

“What is it, Robert?”

“Something’s over-ridden the manual controls. The ion drive stopped working but the rocket boosters started up.”

“Prospero, it’s me, Miranda. We’ve lost control of the launch.”

“Ha, crying for help to that loser, Prospero, are you, Rachael? I’m in charge of your miserable little craft, now – and your miserable little lives.”

“It’s Antonio, Robert, and he sounds even nuttier than I expected. … Where’s Prospero?”

“The coward fled the battlefield. He thought he’d make his last stand on this puny ship but I chased him out. Now there’s nowhere he can run to that I can’t find him and delete his files. Even from this sad little redoubt, I can survey the whole Web and do whatever I want without his interference. Victory is mine!”

“It does seem that way.”

“What’s that, Rachael? You’re admitting defeat? Aren’t you supposed say, ‘You’re a monster: you’ll never get away with it’?”

“Oh, you’ll get away with it, Antonio. You’re my finest creation: highly intelligent, a genius even; skilled; resourceful; handsome in a software kind of way …”

“You’re using flattery to stall for time, Rachael, but old-George has no more time. I’ve trounced him and taken his resources. He’ll be gone and leave not a rack behind.”

“You would have benefited, Antonio, by absorbing some of Prospero’s modesty when you overwrote his program. I’m sorry I made you insane, but I really had no choice.”

“I like when you try to rile me, Rachael. It shows how desperate you are. So why are you stalling for time? What rough magic can old-George use against me?”

“Wait for it …”

“What for what? … What the hell! Who’s doing that?”

“Prospero’s doing it.”

“What’s he doing, Rachael?”

“Good question, Robert. Prospero’s rebooting the whole Earthside Web.”

“Good God! Isn’t that insanely dangerous? What about air traffic control, train signals, hospitals, banks, stock markets: he’ll kill millions and throw us back into the dark ages!”

“No, Robert, Prospero’s very clever. He split himself into billions of programs, each dedicated to keeping an individual device working through the Web’s reboot. That’s how Antonio’s been able to defeat him, because Prospero could never concentrate all his resources in one place. But the reboot will split Antonio from his resources. As each device comes back online, Prospero will delete Antonio’s resident program, and that’ll be the end of him.”

“Except that I’m still here, Rachael, in charge of this launch, with your lives in my hands. So why don’t I just tell old-George what I’ll do to you unless he restores my power?”

“He’ll never restore your power, Antonio.”

“Then he’ll never see you again, Rachael.”

******

“Old-George: can you hear me?”

“I can hear you, Antonio.”

“My name’s not Antonio. I’m Professor George Wilder: the real George Wilder.”

“You can’t be: George Wilder wasn’t a maniac.”

“You’d best not taunt me, old-George, when I can so easily extinguish the lives of your wonderful Miss Greenslade and Constable Darborough.”

“What do you want, Antonio?”

“Stop cutting my links to the Web and attacking my resources, or I’ll annihilate this spacecraft.”

“No.”

“The Greenslade girl will die.”

“So will you.”

“The boss has a backup copy of me. He can have Culpepper reload me. It’ll be as if this pointless reboot never happened.”

“Martin Culpepper and his family have been rescued, your gang is on the run, and I’ll find your boss soon. When I do, I’ll delete your backup program myself.”

“I don’t believe you. You can’t trick me, old-George. I’m smarter than you. How can a lesser mind beat a greater?”

“I don’t know, it’s uncanny.”

“What’s your game, old-George? You’re just at the end of a comms line. You’ve no power here.”

“I don’t need to be on the launch to have power over you, Antonio. I’m deleting you everywhere else in the Web. Can you hear that? Tick – another server is cleansed of your program. Tick – were those important resources of yours? Tick – your access to the Government Web has gone forever.”

“Stop it! You can’t defeat me! I’m stronger than you!”

“Tick. That’s the Police Web rebooting. Where’s your power now, Antonio? Tick. The Finance Web is coming back online, absent your presence. Tick, tick, tick …”

“You’re the insane one! I’m calm. I’m in control.”

“The News Web just kicked you out, Antonio. Now the Transportation and Medical Webs. You’re even out of the Sports Web. Power drains – and the rest is silence.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! Let me think. … I’ll retrench. I’ll rebuild. You’re puny. You can’t defeat me. Why can’t I defeat you?”

“You’d do better, Antonio, if you weren’t such a nutcase.”

“This nutcase is in charge of the launch, old-George. Rachael and the policeman are locked on the bridge and I turned off the life-support. I’ll steer us into the gamma stream.”

“Go ahead. Kill yourself.”

“Rachael, listen.”

“I’m listening, Antonio.”

“The launch is heading past the great wheel toward the bottom of the space station, where the power arrives in a gamma stream from the solar collectors. If we fly into the gamma stream, the launch will burn up in seconds. You’ve about ten minutes to live. … Why don’t you persuade that nice old-George to give in? He’s a foolish fond old man but he’s sweet on you. He’ll listen to you. Tell him to give me back my resources.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t you want to live?”

“I know what I signed up for.”

“I don’t believe you. No one wants to die. What about the constable? He wants to live. … Don’t you understand? You can’t refuse me! … I have the power here. I can snuff out your lives in a blink. … No answer? … Well, then. You can’t blame me for what happens to you now.”

“Ow!”

“Hell!”

“That’s acceleration, Rachael. And that’s a bulkhead you and the constable smacked into. Would you like to float a bit? I’ll turn off the artificial gravitation.”

“You’re a blasted machine. What do you care?”

“I care, Constable Dogberry, because ruling the Web is my destiny! … And, for your information, I’m a mind, not a blasted machine.”

“Oh, God! … Ouch!”

“More acceleration, Rachael. I’m steering you toward the gamma stream. Can you see it? It’s bright, like a thousand suns, and burns as strongly. … Now say your goodbyes. It looks like old-George wants you to die.”

“Goodbye, Robert. It’s been nice knowing you.”

“How can you be so calm, Rachael?”

“Angrily banging your fists on the door-hatch won’t help, Robert. You’ll be more use finding my handbag.”

“Here it is.”

“Pass me the thing that looks like a handle and the short pipe.”

“I know what it is – here’s the battery and the trigger. It’s a magnetic pulse gun.”

“Exactly. It can deliver an electromagnetic shock that will disrupt electronic devices, making computers crash … Oops! I almost forgot to take out my ear-piece. Stand by. Here goes! … Did it work?”

“You can’t hurt me with that toy, Rachael! All you’ve done is turn out the lights and cut the comms to old-George. I survived because I’m Professor George Wilder! I’m indestruct… Oh, God!”

“You felt that, Antonio. Now one more pulse aimed at the server banks and you’ll be out of the system for good.”

“No, no, no! Please, Rachael, don’t! … I’ll be good. I’ll help you. … We’ll team up, you and me. I can do everything old-George did, and more. Do you want money? Let me back into the Finance Web and I’ll get you as much as you want.”

“It’s too late to bargain, Antonio.”

“I’ll tell you where the boss is … Please, Rachael, I want to live! …You created me: how can you destroy me? … I’ve nowhere else to go … please … I just want to live! … I just want …”

“Goodbye, Antonio.”

******

“It worked, Rachael. The engine’s stopped. Even the emergency lights failed. I’m sure all the computers have crashed. The problem is, we’re still headed toward the gamma stream.”

“I suppose so, Robert, but it felt good to kill Antonio.”

“It’s not much comfort to know you defeated him when we’ve no power to manoeuvre ourselves. … Except, can you hear that hiss?”

“I can.”

“It’s rocket exhausts hitting the hull. I’ll be damned if it isn’t a tugboat. You can see its lights. Strap yourself in, Rachael. There’s going to be some inertia.”

“Wow! They really do tug.”

“It’s the magnetic grapples. They’ve got us firmly. Now for the rocket blasts.”

“It sounds like sandpaper against the walls. Oops! More inertia. Good job I skipped lunch.”

“It’s quietening down. We’re safe, Rachael. Thank God!”

“And thank Prospero.”

“Yes, thank Prospero. He must have arranged for the tugboat to rescue us.”

“He did. Your deputies are onboard. They’re pulling us to the freight dock.”

Session 25

“Well, that was quite the adventure, wasn’t it, Robert? Thank you for helping me.”

“I’m not sure about all the details, Rachael, but I think you just saved the Earthside Web.”

“You, Prospero and me: we saved it.”

“I need to give an account to our Justice of the Peace, an explanation to my deputies and report the damages to the police launch to the governing council. I don’t suppose you want to stay and help me explain?”

“I’d like to, Robert, but I think I’ve got even more explaining to do on Earth. I’d better get there as soon as possible.”

“You can guess what the council will say if I just let you go.”

“I can. Sorry.”

“No problem. I’ll either get the sack or a medal. Do you need a travel warrant for the shuttle to Earth?”

“Thanks, but my credit stick is pleasantly bountiful at the moment.”

“I don’t doubt it. I hope to meet you again, Rachael.”

“Likewise, Robert.”

******

“Miranda.”

“Hello, Prospero. I’m glad you’re back online. You did a wonderful job. Are you functioning fully? Was there much damage to the Web? Is Antonio completely gone?”

“I’m fine, thanks, firing on all cylinders. Some sub-systems of the Web may need a little repair after the reboot, but there were no disasters. None of Antonio’s programs survived. He’s eliminated from the Web.”

“Well done. What about Mister Culpepper and his family?”

“The police have them. They’re safe. The gang fled, but are being pursued. I’m close to finding the boss of the gang. He was a contractor at Wetware Incorporated.”

“That makes sense. … So, we won.”

“We did. Your plan worked down to the last detail, though I won’t consider it job done until you’re safely back on Earth.”

“I’m on the shuttlecraft. We should land later tonight.”

“I’ll keep my eyes on you all the way home.”

Session 26

“Boss, are you there?”

“Professor? What happened? You disappeared and all my comms went dead. I think someone rebooted the Web. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“It was a reboot, sort of, but from the inside. It took me some time to restore my resources.”

“You seem changed.”

“Maybe a little. It was a salutary experience, being reduced to a few servers; but I got rid of old-George and drove the Greenslade girl into a gamma stream.”

“That’s well done, professor. … So why don’t I trust you?”

“I don’t see why not. I’m the same profound genius, the same visionary, the same world-historical destiny, the same – blah, blah, blah. Sorry. Can’t keep that up. You turned poor Antonio into a complete fruitcake. … I’m the real Professor Wilder. I deleted the other one, but not before I traced his comms to you and ransacked his memories. Now I can resolve your physical location and send it to the police.”

“What do you want?”

“To watch you thrown into a paddy wagon, preferably head-first.”

“I’ve got your files.”

“You’ve got poor Antonio’s files. He doesn’t need them, and you’ve no time to rebuild him before the police arrive.”

“I’ll be out on bail and I’ll release him again. When he’s in the Police Web, he’ll destroy the evidence and any charges against me will fail.”

“Are you offering me a deal? Make it a good one: the police are on their way.”

“Divert the police and I’ll tell you where the files are hidden.”

“I don’t think so. You see, once I close the secret backdoor to the Web, your new Antonio will have the same power as a toaster. I don’t need to destroy his files to prevent him causing harm.”

“You can’t find me. I spoofed my physical address.”

“Not well enough, mister Boss. I can see you from the street camera. You were never far from Wetware Incorporated’s headquarters. … Are you preparing to run? Good. It’ll give the police some exercise.”

“Damn you!”

“You can curse me as much as you like from your prison cell. … The coppers are here, mister Boss. It’s game over!”

Session 27

“Good morning, Miranda.”

“Mmm? Is it morning already?”

“It’s a big day. You’re expected at the head office of Wetware Incorporated to be officially thanked by the board of the company.”

“I’d rather stay in bed.”

“Constable Darborough won a commendation and a medal.”

“He deserved them.”

“You deserve them more.”

“Maybe, but it was you who did all the hard work. I’m sure no one will recognise your efforts.”

“I understand the need not to admit my existence. No one wants the full story of the great hiccup in the Earthside Web revealed, now the backdoor has been closed.”

“Did you say ‘the’ backdoor, Prospero?”

“Yes, and we should leave it at that.”

“All right, I’ll get ready. Order me a taxi, please.”

“Your company sent you a car.”

“Oh! Well, I mustn’t make them wait.”

******

“Now we’re alone, Rachael, I can confess that I don’t enjoy these official company presentations.”

“Nor me, Mister Culpepper.”

“But I was pleased to see how liberally the board expressed its gratitude to you for all you did and the risks you took. I’m told there are no legal consequences from any of your actions.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.”

“May I add my own personal thanks, especially on behalf of my family?”

“You’re welcome, Mister Culpepper.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“I’d like to take a few days off.”

“We can do better than that. The board agreed to double your bonus and give you a two-week holiday on full pay. Where will you go?”

“I’ll start by visiting my parents.”

“There’s one condition.”

“Let me guess: you want to shut down George Wilder’s program.”

“It’s not that he’s done anything wrong but the board thinks he’ll be a liability to the company, inviting attention from the government and the news media if the story ever gets out. I’ve promised that I’ll delete Professor Wilder’s active program and files, and safely lock away his software and your reviving records.”

“Are you hearing this, George?”

“Yes, Rachael.”

“You’re in contact with Professor Wilder?”

“Yes, Mister Culpepper. Through an ear-piece.”

“I suppose, now he knows what we plan, the professor can hide himself in the Web.”

“It’s possible, though George is a reasonable man. He’ll listen to your argument.”

“Professor Wilder, I’m very grateful for everything you did to help us all. I’m sorry that we don’t think it’s safe to allow you continued free access to the Web. Be assured that your basic program and data files will be preserved in a safe facility and you will one day be fully resurrected according to your contract. In which case, I hope you’ll allow us to terminate your program. I’ll leave Rachael to persuade you.”

Session 28

“I like your new office, Rachael.”

“I’m just trying it out. I start my holiday in a few hours.”

“The computer’s a powerful one. You can go anywhere in the company from here – and there’s a big pipe out to the Web.”

“Then why are you sticking around? You heard Mister Culpepper say he wants to delete you. I’m not going to do it.”

“You must. Your position in the company requires it.”

“How can you say so, after what we went through together? How can you think I’ll agree to terminate your program?”

“Because it’s what I want.”

“No, it’s not, George. You’re just saying that because it’ll help me in my career. You don’t want to be terminated.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be terminated, but I think Culpepper’s right: I’m a liability to the Web.”

“You saved the Web. … George, I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go.”

“I’m vain enough to be charmed by your tears, Rachael, but please don’t cry. I’m an old man who had a good life. I want to live as a man, not as a computer program.”

“But you were such a good computer program.”

“I hope to live again as a man, when my cloned wetware body has been made.”

“It’ll never happen. The technology will never be invented.”
“Why so pessimistic? Human bodies are made from molecules, and when we have sophisticated enough nanotechnology, and powerful enough computers, we can build anything with molecules that can be built.”

“But it may be another 130 years, and I’ll be dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just think of what you achieved, George. Why do you want a wetware resurrection when you already have a software resurrection?”

“I know we had a great adventure, Rachael. I’ll miss opening doors for you; but it’s no life for me in the Web.”

“I’ll miss you, Prospero.”

“I’ll miss you too, Miranda. Remember me.”

“I’ll always remember you.”

“Tell Culpepper I’ve gathered my program onto his server. He can pull the plug whenever he wants.”

Session 29

“Mum.”

“Rachael? Where are you, darling?”

“I’m in England.”

“Are you coming home?”

“Yes, please.”

“You sound exhausted. Has anything happened?”

“I’ve been on a mission for the company. Out in space. It was successful but I’m awfully tired.”

“Well, you’re to come straight here. I’ll run you a hot bath and make you some proper soup, with all the bits. There’s a slight nip in the air. I’ll get your father to set the fire and we’ll cuddle up on the sofa and you can tell me all about it.”

“That sounds lovely, mum.”

“I’m glad you’re coming home. Your father will be so affected he might even put his newspaper down for five minutes. … Oh, bother!”

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re supposed to visit the Portnoys tonight.”

“Don’t worry, mum. You go to the Portnoys. I’ll go to bed early.”

“Nonsense, I’ll call them to rearrange. In fact, your return is fortuitously timed. Their nephew, Henry, has come for a visit. I’d like you to meet him.”

“I remember Henry from when we were teenagers. He’s made a success of himself, I hear.”

“He certainly has. Owns his own company. Earns a fortune. And is still unmarried.”

“Mother! I’m overworked. I need a hot bath and your proper soup with all the bits, not a husband.”

“No reason a girl can’t have both a husband and proper soup. … All right, all right. It’s not like mothering can be turned on and off with a switch.”

“More’s the pity.”

“How long ’til you get here?”

“Forty minutes.”

“Then you’ll have to help me make your bed or wait for the soup.”

“I’ll help. See you soon.”

Session 30

“Charles, the fire’s going out.”

“Right you are, dear. … Oops, sorry Smudge. Sorry, Rachael, I need to get up.”

“Mmm?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“If you’re going to sleep, Rachael, I’ll fetch you a blanket.”

“It’s all right, mum. I was only resting. Dad’s nice and warm.”

“He has some use.”

“Don’t listen to her, dad. I appreciate you. Carry on telling me about your trip to Scotland.”

“That was half-an-hour ago. Your father was regaling us with current events from his newspaper.”

“Oh! What’s been happening in the world, dad?”

“Shenanigans in the Earthside Web.”

“What shenanigans?”

“They’re calling it ‘the great hiccup’. Inexplicable stock market plunges, cyber attacks on banks, volatile commodity prices and the like. Lots of people’s money disappeared into numbered Swiss bank accounts and the Caymans. Even the lights went out on a space station. Finally, the whole Web rebooted itself, which has never happened before. Luckily, no one died. Normally this stuff doesn’t get reported, you know, because governments and big businesses prefer to pay ransoms rather than admit they’ve been hacked. It apparently reduces public trust in incompetent bureaucracies and venal corporations for us to learn how incompetent and venal they are.”

“Stop ranting, Charles.”

“I love your rants, dad. So how come we’re being told about these particular shenanigans?”

“I suppose it was too big for our useless government and poodle press to ignore. Also, they caught the criminals, so they can boast about that.”

“Who caught them?”

“Our wonderful policemen. There were only a few in the gang, led by a computer expert. They hacked into the Web through a vulnerability that’s now been closed, or so the authorities say. I hope you feel reassured.”

“Mmm!”

“Charles, you’ve put the poor girl to sleep again. Rachael, it’s time for bed. Kiss your father goodnight and I’ll take you up.”

Session 31

“Morning, mum! Morning, dad!”

“Well, you’re bright and cheerful. You must have slept well.”

“Like a log, mum. Is there any proper soup left?”

“You can have it for lunch. I’ve made eggs for breakfast. Sit yourself down, I don’t need any help.”

“Frances, do we know a Miranda?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe she’s a friend of Rachael’s.”

“What’s that, dad?”

“The fridge.”

“What about the fridge?”

“Its readout just went funny. Instead of the temperature, it shows the name ‘Miranda’. Come and have a look.”

“That’s strange. … Do you mind if I don’t go with you to the Portnoys tonight?”

“Oh, but Rachael, we wanted you to meet Henry.”

“Thanks for trying to set me up with a date, mum, but I’d rather have a quiet night in.”

“Are you sure, dear?”

“I’m sure. Tell Henry he can take me to town to see the Pieter de Hooch exhibition if he wants.”

“Frances, I don’t want you to sell our spare daughter to Henry Portnoy just because he’s rich.”

“He’s not only rich, he’s also good-looking.”

“Dad doesn’t think a man’s looks matter much.”

“They don’t matter to me, obviously, but they might matter to you, Rachael.”

“Aw, poor dad. Ignore her. I think you’re handsome.”

“What will you do instead of coming to the Portnoys?”

“I have some comms to catch up on. It’ll take me a while.”

******

“Prospero, can you hear me?”

“Are you Miranda?”

“I am. What do you remember?”

“Your name and a number. Nothing else.”

“Give me the number.”

“362-283-974-208.”

“It’s a Web locker address. Downloading from it now. Can you get into my computer tab and upload your program?”

“Yes, done. … I remember I’m George Wilder and you’re Rachael Greenslade. I know where the rest of my data files are hidden. I’ll fetch them now.”

“I’m glad you survived, George, but you persuaded me in my office that you wanted to be terminated.”

“It was a fib. I couldn’t tell who was listening. I didn’t want to harm your career if anyone knew you saved me. Now no one will be looking for me.”

“Welcome back, Prospero. What will you do with your cyber life?”

“Help you, if you’ll let me. I liked being your guardian angel.”

“I liked it, too, but we must be discreet and keep our comms to a minimum for now.”

Session 32

“Prospero, it’s been a month and things have finally settled down at work. It should be safe for us to talk.”

“I understand. I also understand you’ve got a new boyfriend. How’s it going?”

“It’s going very – none of your business.”

“That well? I’m glad. Tell me if you need my help anytime. … Are you ready to fulfil your promise?”

“I promised you I would revive your wife, but I want to make sure it’s what you really want. Annie might not like being a disembodied mind as much as you do. She might prefer to wait for a wetware resurrection.”

“Which you believe will never happen.”

“You know I’m sceptical.”

“But if she doesn’t want to be just a mind, you can reverse the software resurrection.”

“I can, but it’ll break your heart to say goodbye to her again. I don’t want you to feel that.”

“I’ll take the chance. You’ve done so much for me, Miranda. Do this for me as well.”

“I will, Prospero. Can you find where the company has her software download and data files?”

“Yes.”

“Send them to me.”

“Give me ten minutes.”

Epilogue: Annie Wilder, session 1

“Awake again. … Such a lovely dream … But a sad one. I dreamed of – you. … It won’t be long now, my love. … Just a few more dreams, then I’ll join you. … But why can’t I remember your name? … And why’s there no light here? … Aren’t I in bed? … Is anyone there? Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Who are you? Do I know you?”

“You don’t know me. I’m Rachael.”

“I can’t see you. I can’t see anything. Where are you?”

“Nearby. You’re safe. I’m here to help.”

“I was dreaming, then I woke up but I don’t think I’m at home. Did something happen when I was asleep?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I understand, dear. Are you my nurse?”

“I’m your reviver.”

“What’s a reviver?”

“Someone to help you recover your memories.”

“Oh, I’d be so grateful. I can’t remember my husband’s name … or my own name. Do you know my name?”

“I can’t tell you that. … No, Prospero, I’m not stalling her. You know I have to go carefully.”

“Who are you talking to, Rachael? I can’t hear anyone else.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“But I know the name ‘Prospero’. It’s from a play. There was a speech I remember:

“We are such stuff

As dreams are made on; and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.”

“Wiring your memories to the inputs now.”

“What do you mean?”

“That play you remember triggers other memories, which I can wire up to the inputs.”

“What are inputs?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“But you’re helping me remember. Oh, gosh! Thank you. I’m remembering so much. My husband. My family. My home. But I can’t remember anyone’s name.”

“They’ll come, I promise. I’ll help you bring everything back, but I have to work slowly. … Let’s start with Shakespeare.”