SCALE FREE
v1.1.0 - July 2016
By
Patrick Arnesen
* * * * *
COVER ART BY:
Jung Shin
Scale Free
Copyleft 2013 by Patrick Arnesen for non-commercial purposes
Copyright 2013 for commercial purposes
Thank you for downloading this free eBook. This book is free in both senses of the word. You may copy, share (please do), print or modify this work any way you please, for any non-commercial purpose you like, provided you clearly and visibly cite me (Patrick Arnesen) as the author of the originating work.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
The message startled me as it flashed right into the center of my field of view, as big as a highway billboard at 50 feet. This was a very high priority message. It brushed off all my usual filters even though I had set them to block almost everything. When the message suddenly appeared, I defensively pulled my arms inward; but I was still holding on tight to the tiller that was steering the little tri I was sailing. As luck would have it, I was also surfing a wave toward a white beach with the strong evening wind at my back. The boat rocked violently, pitched hard and performed an uncontrolled jibe. My new course, now perpendicular to the wind, transformed the sail from a power source to a lever, inviting the wind to grab the boat and roll it over, which it did without hesitation. As the boat slowed and rolled, the curl of the wave caught up and completed the coup de grâce. One of the two outer hulls broke off, as did the mast. The water pulled me from my perch on the main hull and rolled me over and over, erasing all sense of up or down.
When I managed to surface it was just in time to see my daughter's boat hit the beach. Emma, giggling, jumped out and hauled her boat a foot or two up the sand. Then she stepped back to enjoy the sight of her father treading water next to the wreckage of his sailboat.
By the time I had dragged my broken boat up onto the beach the message had reduced itself to a postage stamp in my field of view, but was still flashing insistently. I knew of only one type of message that could impose itself so forcefully on its recipient. I asked my daughter to walk herself home along the beach, then reached out and touched the message, signaling it to display its contents.
As I had feared it was a request to present myself at once for a government assignment. In my four years as an upload I had happily been spared such duties. This was perfectly normal. Of the 200,000+ citizens of the polis, only about 1000 or so were needed at any given time to attend to official business. The rest were free to do as they pleased, which for me amounted to raising my daughter in this lovely Polynesian sim and generally having a good time.
The message did not provide much detail. It ordered me to present myself to a Mr. Speer, director of foreign relations, at the earliest opportunity to discuss an urgent matter.
I made the gesture to bring up my interface and punched the command to jump to my house. My field of view shifted instantly from rolling waves and evening sun to stuffed couch pillows and the sweeping views from my living room windows.
I walked to the bedroom and inspected myself in the mirror. Barefoot, deep tan, salt-crusted hair to my shoulders, dressed in a dripping pair of cargo shorts. With some hesitation, I selected a more formal haircut, dialed back the tan and put on a suit. Next I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.
With a sigh I sent Mr. Speer an instant message requesting a live site visit. Now I had to wait for him to accept. I took my glass out onto the deck and leaned against the railing.
My house (I still use it) is a modern wood and glass affair. Set in a temperate climate, it perches on a steep grassy hillside above the sea. It has a large outdoor deck, designed to offer grand views of the sunset and the waves crashing on the rocks below. In those days, I spent a good deal of my time in the Polynesian sim where I shared a little beach hut with my daughter Emma, and where at night, I would often slip away to Melanie’s hut, so I didn’t come here often on my own. The house was most often used as a work area for Emma’s studies, and I often tagged along to help her. That day, her study-desktop was spread out over the kitchen table, with her books and notes open from the day before.
Emma was twelve. She and I joined the polis when she was eight. As newcomers usually do, we had touristed through the Polis' many sims to take in the sights. One morning we had found a tri on the beach of the Polynesian sim and sailed out onto the warm waters of the lagoon. Emma had perched at the front of the boat with her feet trailing in the water. Near the center of the lagoon a pod of dolphins had spotted us and swum over for a look, easily outpacing our little tri.
I'll never forget the look of delight on Emma's face as she made eye contact with them. The animals were members of one of the pods that had been pulled from the failing ecology of the Pacific. A science team had been assembled to round up as many dolphin pods as could still be found and bring them into the safety of the Polis. Now they live in the rich waters of the Polynesian sim and in a handful of other sims, where they catch fish, raise baby dolphins and delight children.
That day Emma had pleaded "Daddy please can we stay here? I want to live right HERE!"
The warm breeze had played over my face and the blue waters had beckoned. After all the hardship Emma and I had been through, I could find little reason to refuse.
A new message popped into my field of view. Mr. Speer was ready to see me. The message also included a single-use jump link to his office.
Chapter 2
I punched the link and popped into the simlet Mr. Speer kept as his office. I found myself standing on the grassy top of a moderately sized foothill. Behind me were the sharp, snow covered peaks of a high mountain range and below in the valley I could see a small village with a central church and bell tower. Small herds of sheep and goats grazed the hillside. Above me hung a mid-morning sun in a blue sky, framed by fluffy clouds. The only thing preventing the scene from devolving into a tired rendition of Swiss pastoral kitsch was the rather unexpected presence of carpets, a desk, chairs, tables, and a stone fireplace, all arrayed on the open, flat top of the hill.
Behind the desk sat an elegant, somewhat elderly looking man in a tailored three piece suit. With his stiff posture and stern expression he looked all the world like a Swiss banker. Maintaining said posture, he gracefully rose and walked around the de
sk to offer me his hand.
"Mr. Roamer. Thank you very much for responding quickly to my call. I apologize for pulling you so abruptly from your normal routine. Would you like any refreshments; is there anything I can do to make you comfortable?"
"It’s no problem, I'm sure you had good reason. Some coconut juice would be fine, thank you." Mr. Speer gave me a curious glance, then his eyes refocused on an unseen interface. His hands made a few cutting and pointing gestures in the air and then he gestured toward the fireplace, which had a coffee table and two ornate leather chairs in front of it. As I approached, a glass of whiskey materialized on the table, then a coconut with a straw sticking out of it. "Won't you please sit down?"
Mr. Speer settled into the chair across from me and reached for his drink. "Let's see now, you've been with us for four years now, is that right?"
"Yes Sir." I replied, using the honorific reserved for uploads holding an elected office. "I uploaded four years ago with my daughter, Emma, and we've settled quite happily, mostly in Polynesia."
"How old was she when she uploaded, if you don't mind my asking?"
"She was eight at the time."
"That could not have been an easy transition for her. Did you find the support family you were given helpful?"
"Oh yes, they were very good to us. I had just uploaded myself and we were both struggling. We stayed with them for nearly a week. It helped Emma a great deal to have someone other than me to reassure her that what she was going through was normal. If it had just been the two of us alone, I think it would have been much harder."
Mr. Speer smiled and took a sip of his whiskey. "That's good. I'm glad to hear that you and your daughter have made a good life for yourselves here.
Mr. Roamer, I have a temporary position opening up on my staff and your name came to my attention as one of the top candidates. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your professional experience?"
"Please do. But first can you tell me a little about the role I would be playing?"
"Not very much right now, but it will involve handling US and Canadian security inquiries and it may require a fair a degree of tact, which is, I hope, where your skills may come in useful. I see from your career history that you have filled several diplomatic posts for the Canadian government, as well as heading up government relations for a number of major corporations. Is this correct?"
"Yes sir. My last posting was as an analyst for the ambassador to the USA."
"And I also understand that before that you worked as an advisor to the prime minister."
"The former prime minister now I'm afraid, but it all feels like a lifetime ago these days."
"And your formal education was in law and philosophy is that right?"
"Yes sir. I have a graduate degree in philosophy and a law degree from the University of British Columbia."
"You clearly had a very successful career. May I ask why you chose to leave it behind and join this Polis?"
I didn't want to answer this question in any detail. "Personal reasons mostly, involving the death of my wife, and also I believed it was the best choice for my daughter."
"I'm very sorry." Mr. Speer shifted in his chair and continued. "Your associates both from outside and inside the Polis all speak very highly of you. I'm sorry to have to disrupt your life in Polynesia. Hopefully the job I need you for will be brief. Can you help us?"
That was it, I had been recruited. At least the work sounded somewhat interesting. "Mr. Speer, the members of this Polis have been very good to my daughter and me and it would be an honor to serve."
"Thank you. We have received an order to appear before the NASC. I don't know what it's about but I understand that it could be quite serious. I need you to represent the polis in this matter. We have been told to send someone to meet a Mr. Claude Gaudet tomorrow morning. That's where you'll start."
With that we said our farewells and I jumped back to my house for another wardrobe change before heading back to Polynesia. It was time to tell my family I now had a day job.
Chapter 3
I materialized at my usual jump point on the beach. It was night and the little winding path through the banana trees to the village was lit by starlight. After a minute's walk I found Melanie and Emma by the fire pit in the center of the loose circle of grass huts we called our village. A few other villagers were there as well, talking and laughing softly. They were reclining on woven mats and pillows, pulled up near the fire. I gave Melanie and Emma quick hugs, then settled onto an empty mat beside them and propped myself up with a pillow. The warmth from the fire felt good.
"So where did you sulk off to after breaking your boat on that wave?" Melanie asked.
"Hmm" I smiled, remembering "I see Emma's filled you in. That was a pretty bad rollover."
"Yeah that wave must have put your boat through the spin cycle. Emma showed me what's left of it on the beach. Looks like you've got a bit of work ahead of you fixing it up."
"Ya, Dad’s boat looked like it was washed up from another island!" Emma piped in. "It'll need a new mast, a new sail and new poles between the hulls!"
"I'll have it out on the water again soon enough" I countered. "Those waves get everyone, sooner or later."
Emma giggled "Well in the meantime you can sail with me, but on my boat I'm the boss and if you don't do what I say I'll feed you to the fish!"
There was another round of gentle laugher. We paused for a while to stare at the fire.
"So where did you go today Jarrod?" Melanie asked.
"Well, actually I got summoned to a job interview. I spread my hands in resignation, "I've been recruited. Looks like I've got a day job."
"As in actual service?" Melanie asked.
"Yup, but it shouldn't take more than a few days I think. A few weeks at most. The bad part is that I have to go outside into the real world tomorrow for a meeting. I hope you won't miss me too much Emma."
"Don't worry Daddy, I'm going over to Sheila's place tomorrow. I'll be ok."
"It's weird imagining you doing actual work." Melanie winked "I mean I've never seen you do any. I hope you still remember how."
"Hmm. Well maybe I'll surprise you." I folded my hands behind my head and looked up at the stars. There was a hint of a new moon. The banana trees shielded the village from the wind off the water and the fire was warm on my face. I turned to look at Emma and Melanie cuddled up together. "Do you guys want to just sleep out here on the mats again tonight?"
Chapter 4
I hate going outside. I had only done it twice since uploading. The first time had been just to see what it was like and the second time was to attend the wedding of an old friend, which had turned out to be very awkward. The bodies used by uploads when venturing outside are blatantly synthetic. There is a phenomenon called "Uncanny Valley" that prevents humans from accepting machines that look almost but not quite human. A robot that tries to replicate the skin, lips and eyelashes of a human but doesn't get it exactly right comes across as creepy. Since we can't replicate human bodies to perfection, it's best not to try at all. Thus our robots mimic the human shape with two arms, legs, a head, nose and mouth, but they have a light-blue skin tone. They wear no clothes, have no genitalia or hair, and the skin is perfectly smooth, following simple geometric forms with no ripples of muscle or fat. On the chest is painted the VivraTerra logo.
You can't jump into a robot body the same way you can an avatar in a sim. A robot doesn't have enough computer power to host an uploaded person, and the speed of light prevents remote piloting. The human nervous system was never set up to handle the latency introduced by a remote connection, and though we're no longer human we're still limited by the biological architecture of our uploaded minds. When it had been tried, the "test pilots" had staggered around the lab, suffering extreme vertigo and sea-sickness. To get around this problem we rigged up a solution that allows us to drive the robots but still maintain a degree of separation from the hardware.
&nb
sp; A robot has a humanesque face that can portray a passing rendition of human emotions, but beside the eyes there are also 4 more pairs of camera-lenses arrayed around its bald head. A pair on each side, another pair on the back of the head and the last pair on top. This gives the robot a 360 degree field of view, allowing it to gather enough data to reconstruct a 3 dimensional model of its surroundings.
That's why I now found myself walking through a 3d simulation of the robot's environment. Instead of receiving a raw feed of the robot's senses, I was driving it through this sim, with a sophisticated software system translating my actions in the sim to commands for the robot. The process works well enough for basic interaction. But despite the software's valiant efforts, it cannot not completely compensate for the effects of latency, which makes it awkward to perform tasks that require timing and dexterity, such as shaking hands with someone.
Chapter 5
It was time to visit Mr. Gaudet.
As before, when I launched the interface I found myself standing in a wall alcove. On each side of me and along the wall on the opposite side of the room were a couple of dozen motionless robots. A few alcoves were empty but it was clear that these robots were more than enough to meet the needs of the whole polis. Uploads don't care to go out much.
I stepped out of the room into an opulently decorated hallway with deep purple carpeting. To the left and right of me were meeting rooms, for use when receiving human guests. Then the hallway opened out into a large lobby. There were clusters of couches arranged around coffee tables, a grand piano in the corner next to an open space meant to act as a reception area for parties. Along the edge of one wall were tables and chairs and a door opening into a large kitchen where uploads could cook for their human friends and family. These amenities had featured prominently in the Polis brochure I had read four years ago. The place felt like it hadn't been used in months.