Ryan Somma - The Spiraling Web

Mow watched the detective go before turning to Alice, "You sure this is going to work? It seems very ambitious."

"It all depends Mow," Alice said, returning to her monitor.

"On what?" Mow asked.

Alice was engrossed in the monitor again. Her speech was drowsy, as if her mind were far away, "On whether or not the thing mutates into something more powerful before we can destroy it."

It was a welcome relief when Devin found the library open. His cautiousness had doubled his traveling time, but here no one would notice him, and with a VR Helmet on, he would become completely, wonderfully anonymous.

Taking a seat at one of the stations, he casually ran a wire from his monocle into the station's port. He then loaded the "Flatline Warez" folder and ran Flatline's avatar-masking program. His concern now was that the program would be too complex for him. Luckily, it automatically interfaced with the system, fabricating an avatar without any effort on his part. A pop-up window on his palm-computer informed him it was now safe to access the Web.

The moment of truth, Devin slipped the helmet over his head and pulled on the VR gloves. The helmet hummed as fans cooled the processors. Status messages flashed before his eyes. It was an older model helmet, so it took longer to override his retinas and log him into the system. The helmet lacked noise canceling, making him very cognizant of his breathing. He made it this far, if he could not get on the Web, his only remaining option was to turn himself in and play the role of Flatline's patsy.

The Web phased gently into existence, and he stood in the middle of an abyssal desert. Looking down at himself he found an androgynous wire frame, the avatar of an anonymous user.

Devin reached up tentatively, this was not his avatar; it did not possess any of his software. It was like trying to use a computer customized for someone else. He would have to go through a third party. Devin tried accessing the Waygate search engine.

"Waygate not found," the system reported.

This was expected. Most of the Net was down according to the news feeds. He began testing various people finders and found one still working after wracking his brain for several minutes.

A tuxedo-wearing chatbot greeted him at the directory entrance and welcomed him into the lobby. Patterned after an extravagant hotel, the Website slowly warped behind the concierge. Its angles skewing and its walls alternately closing in and drawing out, the room made Devin ill, like the appearance of the AI's. They were straining this service provider.

There were glitches in the servant's voice when he spoke, "Welcome to the Ask Jeebs information portal. Simply-"

"Stop," Devin commanded, "Take me to a people finder."

The room melted slowly into something else. An old-fashioned circuit board formed out of the wall, wires sprouting from it.

The concierge was now holding an antique telephone on a tray in front of Devin, "What is the name of the Avatar or person you wish to find?"

"Traveler," Devin said, and supplied the IP address to distinguish it from all the other 'Travelers' in the world.

"Paging..." the Jeebs chatbot trailed off for a moment. "No answer."

Devin tried Sun-Wu Kong next, and then Flatline without success. It was with a deep sense of guilt that Devin finally said, "BlackSheep."

"Paging..." the butler sizzled, waves of static rolling over him, "Found, status online. Attempting to establish a connection... First attempt... Success. Who may I say is calling?"

"Devin," he almost whispered, and then added, "Omni."

"One moment please," the chatbot phased out of existence and BlackSheep's goth cupie-doll phased into the room.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, hands on hips, and Devin almost cried in relief.

"Looking to play a game of chess?" she asked, batting her eyes innocently.

Devin wondered if he should. Was it best to put off sharing his troubles or just spill his guts and get it over with? He had no idea how long he had before the avatar-masking program broke down and booted him off the Web. If Flatline wasn't blocking his avatar anymore, then his identity and location would be revealed to the authorities. In the library he was a sitting duck.

"Uh, sure," he said uncertainly, "A game of chess sounds nice."

BlackSheep quirked a curious eyebrow at him. The desert phased out and their private game room phased in. The chessboard floated between her cartoon cupie-doll and his green-wire frame figure. He took a contemplative stance, emulating Rodin's 'Thinker'.

"Where's your avatar?" she asked him inevitably.

"Long story," he replied, staring at the table, "It's been a rough couple of days."

"That's becoming the norm," she said, "I thought you might be responsible for that virus, considering how you disappeared just before it hit the Web. Where did you go anyway? I've been waiting on pins and needles to stomp you on these sixteen squares. I've really got it cinched this time."

"Don't you always?" Devin snapped, "After all, you have the advantage of not having anything else to do with your time. Me, I've got a million other things weighing down on me."

"So where did you go?" BlackSheep pressed impatiently.

"I was detained," he muttered, "It's complicated. I'm kind of wanted by the police right now."

"What?" the doll jumped up and leaned over the table, "What do you mean 'kind of wanted by the police'? How can you be 'kind of wanted by the police'? This has something to do with the hacker you were hanging out with, doesn't it?"

"He framed me," Devin said defensively, "He's set me up to take the fall for the Flatline Virus, only it's not a virus at all. They're..." He trailed off, not wanting to sound crazy.

"What?" she asked, and the concern in her voice tempting him to let it all out.

"Nothing," he shook his head, "I shouldn't even be telling you this. It's dangerous. He might be listening in on our conversation right now. I didn't want to contact you. I just didn't know where else to go."

"So what's the price on your head?" she leaned over the board with too much interest.

"What?" he sounded shocked, and his green wire frame sat up straight, "You aren't thinking about-?"

"Of course not silly," she cut him short, waving his hurt feelings off, "I'm joshing. Seriously though, what can I do to help?"

"I don't know," Devin felt the fatigue creeping in again, "I don't think it's safe for you."

"I'm not afraid of some sissy hacker," the doll stood up to pound a fist on her chest confidently, "What's he going to do? Send me a resentful e-mail? What do you need from me? You want me to meet you someplace? I'll even come down to Norfolk and help you get up here... if you need me to."

Devin was confused, "I thought you hated to leave your apartment due to your condition."

"What's my condition have to do with it?" she demanded.

"Well, it's just that..." Devin shrugged, and the wire frame followed suit, "You being blind and all. I figured it wasn't safe for you to ride the buses that far."

BlackSheep fell silent for a moment, the doll's earring dangled as her head drooped, "Oh."

Devin rushed to explain, "I'm sorry, I just meant that-"

"Blind..." she muttered, "Yes, that makes sense now." Her innocent cartoon visage cast dark as a storm cloud, eyes narrowing, and mouth curling into a wicked smile. She looked up at Devin. AI's melted out of the game room walls until there was a forest of their shambling, misshapen forms surrounding them.

When the doll spoke, it was Flatline's voice, "So. Zai is blind."

Thirty-seven simulations of Alice's anti-virus program had yielded success. Each time the virus was beaten into oblivion under far worse conditions than she currently faced. Yet she still needed luck on her side to defeat the virus on the world's vast networks, where the near infinite number of variables coming into the equation made it impossible to accurately predict anything. The laws of Chaos theory prevented her from feeling confident of the battle's outcome.