READ PART ONE HERE
At 2:55 PM, Alex and Jin find themselves in a cliché, waiting in the corner of a dark parking lot. Not a soul is here. All of the traffic is from autonomous cars stowing themselves in empty parking spots. The hum from the EV contact charging pads leaves the air buzzing.
“Just like a freakin’ spy thriller,” Jin murmurs, pressing ignore on a call from Dee.
“Uh-huh,” Alex says and lights a cigarette just to add to the ambiance.
A message appears in front of Jin. “Check your messages. CC wants to meet.”
Jin closes the message and curses. His dimple makes an appearance, but before Alex can pry, they hear someone approaching. A mousy man turns the corner, trying to appear confident, but he’s on edge.
As a sedan silently creeps between them, he asks, “Are you Alex?”
Alex crushes his cigarette under his shoe, “Yeah. ”
The man quickly crosses the distance. Alex offers a hand to shake, but the man doesn’t take it. “I’m Chetan Patel. I work in Callosum CyberSec. Thank you for doing this.”
“You said you have proof,” Jin says, still half unconvinced about all this.
Chetan looks both ways and then says, “Yes. The attack on Cortix ensured Callosum had a monopoly over neural implants, but it was never about controlling the market. It was about controlling us. The trojan is just a version of the Cordyceps AI they modified to be fatal. What the world needs to fear is the original construct that keeps you very much alive.”
Alex swallowed, “What do you mean?”
“The Cordyceps AI is specifically trained to operate a human body. It’s still out there, and it’s been evolving all this time. The virus could be inside anyone, and it intends—”
Tires shriek on the floor below, and they both turn towards the light coming around the corner. Chetan turns back, conjuring up a file taking the form of a floppy disk. “Shit. Take this. Seek The Quiet Part in the Shadow Forums and trust no one. Go! GO!”
They all run towards the stairs, but a black container van rips around the corner, blocking Chetan’s escape.
Jin sees movement through the glass of the stairwell door. He yanks Alex behind a car just as two men dressed in plain clothes burst out. Alex holds his breath and clamps his hand over Jin’s mouth as they run past, closing in on Chetan with silenced pistols raised. The van’s door slides open on its own, revealing an empty boxy interior.
Chetan looks his abductors in his eyes and says in a shaky voice, “I know you’re in there… That this isn’t you. I’m sorry. I do not blame you for this.”
There is no exchange of words. The men simply shove Chetan into the van and shoot him twice in the chest and once in the head. They close the door, and the van drives off without them.
Jin moans into Alex’s hands as two killers turn around. Their eyes are bouncing around in a panic, just like a Cordyceps victim.
“Run,” Alex hisses. They sprint towards the stairwell, keeping a row of cars between them and the killers. They fire. Concrete explodes by their sides. Glass shatters, and car alarms go off.
Jin covers his head and squeals, “Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT!!”
Alex slams into the pushbar and pulls Jin inside the stairwell. They rocket down the flights and stumble out a side exit. Alex shoves a dumpster in front of the door.
Jin whirls, incoherent. “Oh God, it’s true. It’s still out there. I can’t, Alex. I just can’t—”
The door slams against the dumpster, and Jin screams.
Alex grabs him by the shoulders, “They didn’t get a good look at our faces. If we keep our shit together, we can just walk away. Can you do that?”
Jin shudders out a nod.
“Just be cool, baby,” Alex says as he takes his hand, and they briskly merge into pedestrian traffic, walking westward as the two killers exit out the front. They turn towards the sun and squint, searching for Alex and Jin, but they’re already gone, blending into the crowd.
Once they’re several blocks away, they cut through an alleyway and hide around the corner. Alex tries to open the file, but keeps receiving “Unknown Read Error”.
“Let me see,” Jin says and takes a copy. He conjures up a piece of chalk, writes a command across the cement wall, and swipes his hand over it, executing it. His node analyzes the file. “Weird. The data isn’t encrypted or corrupted. The container just won’t open.”
“Maybe it’s only meant for The Quiet Part,” Alex suggests, and the name makes Jin’s nose wrinkle. The prolific Social poster is the reason Alex started obsessing over Cordyceps theories in the first place.
“You’re making the stank face,” Alex says.
“I don’t like the hold that guy has over you, and now he has you involved in all this.”
Adrenaline meets aggravation. Alex grits his teeth. “He’s an influencer among the truthers. He’ll know how to get the information out there. Can we not have this argument?”
Another message from Dee arrives. Jin glances at it and drops the topic. “Yeah. Of course. Dee needs me for something. I need to handle this because I can’t handle all of… that.”
“No, go,” Alex says and squeezes his hand.
Jin hesitates. “Just promise me something. This whole mess has officially become dangerous. Deliver the data, then wash your hands of all of it. I can’t do this anymore, and you’ve done enough.”
In the heart of downtown Los Angeles, sits Callosum Corp HQ. It’s a monolith, tapered in such a way that, for those looking, ‘The Needle’ does not seem to end. It just vanishes into the distance.
Jintao and Dee stand at the very base getting its full effect, then Jin gets acquainted with a trash can. He thought being inside the belly of the beast would be too much after the craziness in the parking lot. Turns out, he is okay with walking into the belly as long as he stays in the belly. The idea of being vomited up into the tallest goddamn building in the world leaves him on the precipice of a breakdown.
“You can do this,” Dee says. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”
They walk into the lobby, an endless expanse centered around a massive tree shaped into the hemispheres of a brain. They sit, and Dee holds Jin’s hand while he has a low-key panic attack.
A cheery woman with a digital id on her chest, briskly walks ups, “Diane and Jintao, it’s great meet you. I’m Aiesha Coates, R&D Human Resources Liaison. Come with me.”
“Is this about the Brain Hack competition?” Diane asks. Neither could figure out Alex’s weird results, and it left them convinced they had submitted a faulty product.
“Yes and no,” Aeisha says, taking them to an elevator, “But it’s a good thing. Trust me.”
The elevator opens, and Jin stops in his tracks. He swallows. “What floor are we going to?”
“The eighty-fourth,” Aiesha says, and enters the elevator. ”You’re gonna love the view.”
Jin backs away, “I-I can’t. I’m sorry, Dee. I can’t.”
Aeisha holds the doors open. “Is there a problem?”
Dee rubs his shoulders, “Jin is a Cordyceps survivor. He has issues with heights.”
Aeisha’s eyes go wide. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. Say no more. They’ll come down to you.”
An ad hoc conference room is thrown up in the corner of the lobby. Inside, the digital walls give way to a field of wild flowers chosen specifically for Jin. People file in, far more than Jin and Dee expected, and the last person to enter leaves them dumbfounded. It’s Dr. Nathan Lam, one of the three founders of Callosum and the second richest man in the world.
Dee and Jin stammer and shake the trilionare’s hand.
“I rooted around your code,” Dr. Lam casually says, ”It’s really good work. Are you self-taught?”
“Yes,” Dee says, “I was Pre-Med when the Node came out. I thought about switching majors to Computer Science, but they weren’t teaching Neuro, so I just dropped out. Admittedly, that wasn’t the smartest idea.”
“I disagree. Much of Callosum is made up of Silicon Valley types.” Doctor Lam says, “That cred will actually get you further around here than an actual doctorate. And you, Jin?”
“I was coding for Codex and porting nOS apps before the—Well, yeah.”
Chairs creak in a beat of awkward silence. Aiesha quickly takes the reins. “So let’s get right to it. We love your app. It’s therapeutic application alone is a game changer, but the word association algorithm behind it is truly revolutionary.”
“There’s a whole team trying to rewrite nOS to achieve what you did with surface-level access,” Dr. Lam says, “We’re not supposed to tell you this, but your app is on the shortlist for the Brainhack Competition and will most likely win.”
Dee blinks several times. Jin tries their best not to squeal.
Aiesha continues, “Unfortunately, that is also why we believe it would be best if you withdrew from the competition.”
Dee shakes her head, “I don’t understand.”
@TheQuietPlace: Get to the Shadow Forums. I am waiting.
Alex walks out of the vintage store in a fresh change of clothes, hoping it will throw them off his trail. He was wrong. The second he steps back onto the street, a woman walking her dog turns and stares at him, her eyes jittering.
Chetan’s words come back to him. “It could be inside anyone.”
Alex picks up speed and darts through into a side street. Cordceps has been following him, and he can feel the AI’s eyes on the back of his neck no matter how many times he tries to lose it. At first, he thought he was being tailed by undercover Callosum agents, but it was far worse. Cordyceps is briefly taking over people to keep an eye on him.
He turns toward the display window of an unlicensed 3D print shop, and pretends to peruse the printed wares. Looking over his shoulder, he can see them watching him. It’s as though a single prolonged stare is bouncing from head to head, so that no one person gives him more than a passing glance. The virus is just waiting for the right moment. He’s sure of it.
Alex considers the handwritten sign in the window, “We can make anything.”
He walks into the print shop. The clerk glances over his feed and gives an inquiring grunt.
“I need something off the menu,” Alex says.
The clerk closes the window and looks him over. He decides Alex isn’t a cop and nods, “You want a nine-mill or a thirty-eight? The thirty-eight’s less likely to blow your fingers off.”
***
Eric leans against the leg of a mech, and the servos of his power armor hiss. “What makes you think I know how to get to the Shadow Forums? Only pedos and pirates go there.”
Alex motioned around the hangar bay, “Are you telling me you paid for this shooter?”
Eric chews on a mozzarella stick dripping with marinara sauce and nods, “Fair point.”
His skeevy modder friend—named Hobbes, Bob, or something. Alex never cared to find out—snorts a stim and butts in, “Going to the Bazaar is super illegal, man.”
Eric points to the alien planet being bombarded by Gothic battleships. “And there’s a major campaign going on.”
“I’ll pay for another hour. I wouldn’t barge into your game if it wasn’t important.”
“Okay.” Eric shrugs and exits the game, trading his power armor for jeans and a t-shirt covered in red sauce. The space station melds back into the square VR room.
Eric rubs his neck, “Don’t know if you know, but I’m in a weird place with Dee.”
Hobbes croons, “Because somebody’s gonna be a baby daddy.”
“Wait. She told you?” Alex asks.
“No, I found a pregnancy test in your bathroom trash can and took an educated guess it wasn’t from you or Jin—Wait. How do you know?”
“Dee told us.”
Eric turns to Hobbes. “See? She’s confrontational about everything except this. I don’t get it. Why hasn’t she said anything?”
Alex rubs his eyes. He doesn’t have time for this. “How did Dee dispose of the pregnancy test? Was it hidden under stuff or wrapped up like a used tampon?”
“No, it was just in your trash. I didn’t exactly go rooting around for it.”
“Eric, honey, she wanted you to find it. It’s probably why she told you to take a shower. Dee knows you know and is giving you time to freak out and get it out of your system.”
Eric stares at Alex for a beat, then blinks. “Shit. That’s totally what she’s doing.”
He pulls out an ornate key, and a set of gilded doors appears in front of them. Eric inserts it and gives it a turn. Massive tumblers clink and turn as the room gives way to the terracotta alleys and draped cloth of the Grand Bazaar.
In a vast sea of impermanence that is the darknet, the Grand Bazaar is a lighthouse pulling the sick and wary to its ad-hoc hubs. Its creation is one of the greatest unsolved mysteries. Seventy years ago, it simply appeared, fully automated, unmoderated, and ready for business. Five years ago, it received its first major update, and now node users could walk its halls completely anonymous, bringing along the worst of humanity.
Alex sticks behind Eric as they weave around pop-up shops and fire-sales, and he’s left bewildered by the illegality of it all. Killers hand out pamphlets showing their body of work. Blackhats sell ransomware next to Whitehats offering security solutions. Thieves hawk skimmed credit keys by the thousands, and traffickers offload flesh—Men, women, endangered animals, both synthetic and organic human organs, as long as no one asks where it comes from. The whole time, Hobbes scrampers from booth to booth, like some kid in a demented candy store
A video appears by Alex’s side of a woman leaping off a high-rise. Alex stops in front of a booth selling Cordyseps suicide compilations, and his heart is ratchets up a gear.
Eric quickly pulls him away, “Try not to look at the wares. Some things can’t be unseen.”
They blend back into the packed crowds, disregarding the physics of personal space. Eric does his best to keep Alex distracted. “Do you think I’d make a good father?”
“I think it won’t matter,” Alex says, glancing over his shoulder. For a brief second, he swears he saw something. Something seemingly pressed into the Bazaar itself. He shakes it off and turns back. “As long as Dee is the mother, the kid will turn out alright.”
They turn the corner, and two more indentations watch them pass, tall and thin funhouse-mirror shapes of men, taking form as they warp the area around them. A third begins to walk by their side, keeping a row of booths between them. Alex points it out, “We’re being followed.”
Eric stops and stares at their semi-invisible tail, “Well, that's new. Maybe it’s lag.”
Hobbes bumbles back and glances at the indentation, “Naw, that looks like a rogue AI. They’re all over the Bazaar.”
Alex stops him, “Hold on. Like a virus?”
“Eh. More like benign parasites. They siphon processing power from unsecured devices to continue to operate.”
“Not these ones,” Alex says and shoves Eric forward. “It’s the Cordyceps Trojan.”
Eric raises an eyebrow, “Uh, what? You can’t seriously believe that.”
Alex notices a fourth indentation closing in on them, “Trust me. We need to go, now.”
They start running, clipping through the crowd, but the Cordyceps men don’t give chase. Instead, they grow in number, propagating exponentially along their sides.
Eric moans, “Dude, what the hell did you do?”
Alex pulls Eric to the side, keeping him from running into a twisted mob. “Just keep going.”
It’s not long until the entire Bazaar is a warped mirror of itself. Eric pulls Alex through a doorway into the lobby of a Moroccan lounge. Hobbes is a step behind, but it’s too late. The man shrieks and as hands grab him.
Eric’s eyes go wide, “Hobbes!”
He reaches out, but Alex pulls him back. Hobbes moans as the viral horde closes in, his image twisting and stretching. He screams, then disappears.
Alex slams the door closed and doubles over. “We should be good…The Shadow Forums are on a private server, right? No bots allowed.”
“Yeah…” Eric pulls up a section of the VR room and finds Hobbes flicking his node. “Dude, what happened?”
Hobbes shrugs, “No clue. My Node shat a brick and lost the connection. I’m gonna go have a smoke.”
Eric turns to Alex, “What the Hell was that about?”
“I have leaked information proving Cordyceps was made by Callosum. The virus is trying to stop me.”
Eric takes a step back and eyes the exit. He sucks in his lips and lets out ‘pop.’ “Okay, cool… Cool. So pissing off a multinational is where I draw the line. I’m gonna go with Hobbes.”
Aisha Cotes pulls up an offer, and Doctor Lam slides it across the table. Diane and Jin look down at the terms and try to keep it together. Callosum wants to buy their app outright, offering to double the grand prize of the Brain Hack competition.
Dee looks up, suspicious, “How much money do you plan to make off all of this?”
Dr. Lam waves his hand, “On the app itself? Nothing. It’ll be integrated into the suite we offer licensed therapists. As for your word association algorithm? We have big plans.”
Aeisha Cotes pulls up a second set of documents, and Dr. Lam slides it over. “And we would like you both to be a part of it.”
It’s employment contracts. Callosum wants to hire them full-time. The salary seems like a joke at first, then a mistake, then a dream.
A very good dream.
