Daniel Suarez - Freedom (TM)

He laid his chin on the aluminum railing and pondered the Scale of Themis, center-screen at the bottom of his HUD display. It fascinated him. It was a measure of the distribution of power within a Daemon user population. He could set it to show the whole darknet or just the holon he occupied. At present it was scaled to his current holon. It took the form of a slender needle on his control bar—in this case, leaning slightly to the right. Sebeck had customized his display so that he would always see it. If he looked closely enough, he could see it fluctuating.

Riley had taught him that the extreme right position meant Daemon power was held in very few hands, while all the way to the left meant Daemon power was evenly distributed across virtually everyone.

Oddly, she told him the goal was not to have the needle at either extreme. Too much power in too few hands defeated the common good, while too little power in any single person’s hands made it hard to get anything done. Thus, the goal for a darknet community was to try to peg the needle right in the center—“due north” they called it.

It looked like the Two-Rivers faction was about fifteen degrees off due north. Sebeck wondered if Riley skewed the scale. He’d had a chance to learn just how respected her opinions were in this holon. She wasn’t too impressed by herself. Individuals can always malfunction, Sergeant. Including me.

Riley was an interesting woman. Sebeck couldn’t recall ever meeting a person so patient, yet unyielding. She also demonstrated a prodigious knowledge of the world around her. He was starting to realize he wasn’t the center of Sobol’s new world order. Strangely, that gave him a measure of relief.

Sebeck considered the Daemon’s virulence . Riley had explained to him that the Daemon grew less virulent the more it spread. And that it became more ruthless as it contracted . It was designed like a natural organism to resist its own eradication with lethal force if necessary. It did explain the bloody origins of the Daemon, but Sebeck still couldn’t accept it. It was basically a parasite on human society, one trying to achieve symbiosis. A balance between what it took and what it gave. Yes, it drove them toward preserving civilization, but it diminished free will. And did they really want a cybernetic organism designed by a madman hanging over their heads?

Sebeck heard footsteps on the stone stairs behind him. He turned to see Laney Price wearing a new black T-shirt and parachute pants. The words “THANK YOU . . . for not emoting” were emblazoned on Price’s shirt in bold white letters.

“Where are you getting these stupid T-shirts?”

He stretched the fabric to read it. “Like it? Latest thing, man. Smart plastic. I got it at the gift shop the day I got in.”

“Wait . . . there’s a gift shop ?”

“Yeah. Flexible, programmable plastic display. Takes about an hour to change messages. Pretty cool, huh?”

Sebeck turned back to the railing. “You downvoted me, you prick.”

Price came up alongside him. “Well, what did you expect? You treat me like crap.”

“A two-star reputation ranking?”

“Oh, out of a base factor of one! Big deal. You can fix it. Try not being a dick. It works wonders.”

“I oughta downvote your reputation ranking.”

“I’ve got a base factor of four hundred and six, pal. Good luck. And on what grounds, by the way? You know damn well that it has to be for a cause, and that it must pass muster on an fMRI countercharge.”

Sebeck threw up his hands. “Jesus, we sound like a couple of geeks at a Star Trek convention.”

“I happen to speak Klingon, pal. So . . . Hab SoSlI’ Quch! ”

They heard more footsteps and turned to see Riley coming up to join them.

Sebeck nodded to her in greeting.

She appraised him. “You may not like it, Sergeant, but you’ll make an able member of the darknet. I think you’re ready to continue your quest.”

“Then you’re rating me?”

She nodded and raised her ringed hands. With a few precise movements she moved an invisible object to an invisible place, and Sebeck noticed a message come across his HUD display. It told him that Riley had just rated him on a scale of one to five—scoring him a four. Now with a base of two he had a reputation score of three. Half a star above average.

But more important, the moment she rated him, a new blue Thread sprang into being about ten feet above and in front of Sebeck’s HUD view. It ran quickly from the mountaintop, through the valley, and to the horizon northeast of them, where it disappeared.

Sebeck took a deep breath. It was difficult to tolerate the return of that domineering line. Where it would lead was anyone’s guess.

“Do you see it, Sergeant?”

He nodded. “Yes. My Thread is back.”

“I thought it might be. It seems your quest will lead you to places and events. Although how that might ultimately lead to this ‘Cloud Gate’ you’re seeking, I don’t know. I’ve searched for anything called a Cloud Gate in the structure of the darknet but found nothing. However, there is mention of it elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“In myth.”

“Great. So, I’m searching for a myth. . . .”

“Myths still have power, Sergeant. Sobol knew that. His games are predicated upon them. Myths are the archetypes that recur again and again in the hopes and fears of mankind. They have a hold upon us. The entire concept of a daemon stems from the guardian spirits of Greek mythology—spirits who watched over mankind to keep them out of trouble, and that’s become real enough.”

Sebeck shrugged. “Okay. What do these myths say about a Cloud Gate?”

“It was the gateway to the heavens and guarded by the Horae—the goddesses of orderly life. The Horae were also known collectively as the Hours and the Seasons. Their mother was Themis—the goddess of justice and order.”

The name tugged at Sebeck’s memory. “As in the Scale of Themis?” She nodded. “An allegorical personification of moral force—a myth powerful enough that she became enshrined in our own society as Blind Lady Justice—one of the only goddesses of our new Republic. Her symbol surrounds us to this day.”

Sebeck absorbed this, still uncertain what to make of it.

Riley placed a hand on his shoulder. “In Sobol’s online fantasy world, The Gate , different planes of existence were linked by gates, and those who controlled them or passed through them could control or change the course of world events. The outcome of your quest may affect us all, Sergeant.”

He nodded somberly.

She placed her hand on Sebeck’s shoulder. “Follow your Thread. I believe your heart is in the right place, even if you don’t agree with Sobol’s vision. Question everything. But don’t be surprised if the world you thought you knew never existed.”