Brandon Sanderson: Perfect State

Turned out, the best way to create greatly satisfied people using minimal resources was to remove their brains when they were fetuses and attach them to simulated realities tailored to fit their emerging personalities. Each Liveborn received an entire world in which they were the most important person of their time. Some became artists, others politicians, but each had a chance for supreme greatness.

All of this took only the space required for a box about the size of a melon—simulation machinery, brain, and nutrient bath all included. Incredibly efficient. And . . . to be honest, I didn’t resent it; hell, I loved it. I got to be an emperor, and while the simulation gave me opportunities, each step—each grueling quest or accomplishment—had to be my own. I’d earned this life.

Thinking of the millions upon millions of others who had done the same, though . . . that unnerved me. Were there millions of Besks, and millions of Shales, millions of me s, all living beneath a Grand Aurora?

Everything else in my existence had taught me I was unique, important, and powerful. I rebelled at the idea that I might just be another person .

“It will not take long, my lord,” Besk said. “Choose one of the women from the list—the Wode ranked them for you with compatibility projections—and send her a request to meet. Perhaps you could dine together.”

“A woman from their list,” I snapped. “A Liveborn woman, with her own world to rule. Lords, she’ll be insufferable.” The closest I ever wanted to get to another Liveborn was across the battlefield in a Border State, and it had taken me some time to warm even to that. My first meeting with Melhi had—

“My lord,” Besk said. “The wall.”

I started, realizing that something had changed the stone wall of the stairwell. Words were appearing in the stone, as if chiseled there, each line sinking in a trough.

CHILD EMPEROR. I HAVE CREATED A NICE SURPRISE FOR YOU.

“Melhi, you snake! How did you hack my palace? You’re violating the precepts of engagement.”

THE PRECEPTS ARE ONLY WORDS. SO ARE SCREAMS. I WILL HEAR YOURS FOR THE INSULT YOU GAVE ME.

“My spies already told me of your robot, Melhi. You should stop sending those. They never work properly in my State.” I didn’t mention that I’d been surprised at how well they did work. Far better than Lancing would have worked in his State, where the laws of physics were different.

YOU WILL SCREAM, CHILD. YOU WILL SCREAM.

I entered Lancesight. Here I could see the Grand Aurora even through the stone of the palace—but I stepped backward anyway, into the doorway, where the Aurora’s light could strike me directly. I drew strength into my arms from that warmth, then pushed it from me in a wave. With Lancesight, I could see the core workings of all things, the very motes of energy—or thought, or whatever they were—that made up my reality.

I could also see Melhi’s hack. It manifested as tendrils of red creeping like venom into my palace. Filled with strength, I cut him off, destroying the tendrils. They hadn’t been strong—he couldn’t accomplish a powerful hack without running afoul of the Wode’s protective programs.

The wall’s surface returned to normal. I melted the stone there for good measure, recast it into a new shape, then blinked my eyes back to my ordinary vision.

“Lords, but that man needs to learn to let go of a grudge,” I said. “He’s never going to beat me. Surely he has to see that by now.”

“Indeed,” Besk said. “He does seem to boorishly continue the same stubborn course, without maturity, and without careful consideration of the best path. Wouldn’t you say?”

“That’s quite enough, Besk.”

“I try to be topical when possible, Your Majesty.”

I took a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work. “Fine. Fine, whatever. Pick one of the women from the list. We’ll meet, get this over with, and I’ll return to my life.”

“Which one do I choose?” Besk asked. “The one the Wode thinks is most compatible?”

“Lords, no,” I snapped, walking away. “Pick the one on the bottom of the list. I might as well have an interesting time of it.”

The meeting was going to happen in a Communal State. Any Liveborn could visit one of those, though I never did. Why would I want more reminders of how normal I really was?

Shale didn’t like me leaving our State, of course.

“I don’t understand why I can’t go,” he said, barring my way to the portal. “I go with you to Border States all the time.”

“Those blend seamlessly with our world,” I said. “They adopt our programming. This is different; it’s a place only Liveborn are meant to visit. Even if we were to somehow get you there, you’d be incorporated into the local programming—you’d be given a life, memories, a backstory that fit the Communal State. It would change your personality—essentially killing you.”

“I’ve always been prepared to give my life for you, Kai.”

“Which I’ve always appreciated. If I were in danger, I’d accept your sacrifice. But I won’t have you giving yourself up so . . . so I can go have sex.”

Lords, but that sounded stupid.

“This is my fault, Kai,” Shale said. “If Molly were still alive, they’d never have chosen you. The Wode only picks the unattached.”

“Yes, well, she’s gone.”

And she had been for . . . what, ninety years now? I should have accepted the advances of one of the willing women who surrounded me. I could have had a harem—Lords, I’d had a harem at one point. Before Molly.

“It’s got to be done, Shale,” I said. “Don’t make me Lance you out of the way.”

He reluctantly lowered his arms. “You won’t be able to Lance on the other side, Kai. You’ll be powerless. Just . . . just a regular person . . .”

“Not entirely,” Besk said.

I turned to find the chancellor entering the large portal chamber. He crossed the floor, which sparkled with twisting churnrock—a type of stone that changed colors with pressure. That had been a gift from the Larkians, right after their king had abdicated to me. I’d had it used in the portal room, where I rarely went. The shifting colors unsettled my stomach.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Besk said, handing me a bundle, “I have been researching in the tomes you discovered in the great hoard of the Lichfather. From what I have read of the seer’s visions of other States, I believe that a few of your abilities will function once past the portal. You will pull some of the innate programming from your State with you.”

“Lancing?” I asked, hopeful. “But . . . no, of course not. There won’t be anything to power it.”

“You could bring an Aurorastone,” Shale said.

“It would vanish as I passed through the portal,” I said. “Anything not part of me, or designed for the State I’m going to, won’t make the transition. But that means . . . of course. My mental boosts, they’ll work, won’t they?”

“Yes,” Besk said. “They speed up processors attached directly to your physical brain.”

“Will the Wode stop them?” I asked, thoughtful. “Clip the processors, stunt my thoughts back to a normal rate?”

“I can’t determine if they will or not,” Besk said. “I don’t think the boosts are given out in the State you are visiting, but bringing them in from the outside might be acceptable. I would limit their use, in case it alerts the Wode to what you are doing.”

“What about my healing boosts?”

“Again, I’m not certain, Your Majesty,” Besk said. “They seem more likely to work. The Communal States are designed to protect the safety of Liveborn, after all.”