Chapter Fourteen
Bugs & Glitches
The Academy had gone along smoothly all semester. Too smoothly, thought some of scientists at GundTech. But now they began to notice little errors. Errors like the language translators didn't always work, here and there, IHT-generated characters were being heard in whatever language was 'native' to their role, and in some cases, characters appeared with their clothes on backwards, or inside out, or — to the shock of homeroom 45-East — with no clothes at all! Then there was the incident where an American student was almost run down by a horse-drawn carriage.
It was the last day of the semester before a three-week holiday break. Homeroom 678-West was in the middle of studying the works of Charles Dickens. They were about to experience Dickens' A Christmas Carol, from the viewpoint of Ebenezer Scrooge. It was for that reason the class was convened in the front hall of a decrepit old mansion.
Mr. S stood on a staircase, three steps above his students. "Now, in this simulation, you will each be experiencing the story alone. You will be Ebenezer Scrooge, so I hope you remember your lines." He looked to each student to get confirmation that they had, indeed, studied their lines. "But before we begin, I want to congratulate you on a wonderful first semester. We have achieved much in the past few months. We have pushed the development of IHT simulations almost faster than the technicians could handle. Take for instance, this 19th century London simulation. It is our most detailed simulation to date. We have used it many times — perhaps we have used it too often. Anyway, I daresay, we have overworked the programmers with our ideas. You may have noticed little bugs and glitches here and there recently."
"Yeah, like 45-East's meeting with a nude Napoleon," said Ian.
"That was a whole new spin on The Emperor's New Clothes," said Raul. Everyone laughed at that, including Socrates Jones. Of course, Becky giggled.
"The glitches only seem to affect the IHT-generated characters," Mr. S went on to explain. "Anyway, that is why we will be closing down the Academy simulations over the holiday break." A general chorus of moans permeated the hallway. Mr. S held up his hands in an effort to silence his class. "Okay, settle down. The technicians need to check all the existing programs thoroughly, and they want to concentrate on the new simulations for next semester's studies."
"What new simulations?" asked Rosa.
"Next semester we are going to concentrate on the solar system."
"Space!" said Andre, who was an unabashed science nut.
"That is correct Mr. Martin." Socrates rubbed his hands together as he spoke, "Okay, let us get back to today's class. Follow me upstairs. We'll begin in Scrooge's bedroom." Mr. S turned and proceeded up the steps. Or at least his head did! When he heard the gasps of his students behind him, he stopped and turned to face them. "What is the matter now…" he began, but was shocked into silence when he saw his headless body standing four steps below.
Consuela's mouth gaped open. Becky Weingold flattened herself against the wall. She wasn't giggling.
"Is this part of the Christmas Carol simulation?" asked Cameron. "Are you playing one of the Christmas ghosts?"
The head of Socrates Jones spoke as it glided down the stairs to reposition itself atop his body, "No, I assure you, it is not part of the simulation."
Ian McKeirny was awestruck. "Yeah, but it's a neat trick all the same."
Rosa looked puzzled. "You said the glitches only affected IHT-generated characters."
Socrates Jones responded with a crooked little smile and a raised eyebrow.
"No!" said Consuela. "I can't believe it, Mr. S. — you're an AI!"
Two days after Christmas, Meagan Fletcher sat in her New York apartment. She was talking to Jason.
"Do you really have to fly to Oslo again?" Jason's upgraded voice sounded sullen. "Can't this be done in an IHT conference?"
"Some of what we need to discuss is too sensitive to talk about on even the most secure com channel. Some of it, Jason, is between just Mr. Villfarelse and myself."
Back in September, Jason had been removed from the WBN building and impounded in a secure place until his ownership was settled in court. It was now the end of December, and he had only just been installed in the study of Meagan's new apartment.
"There are things you have not told me. Why haven't you told me who this boy wonder is? You know don't you?"
"Yes, I do. But, Jason, a lot has happened since you were… uh…"
"Shut down." His comment had an edge to it.
"Yes, shut down," she said with a note of apology. "Was it hard on you? I mean, being shut down for so long?"
"Was it hard on me? Were the four months I was shut down hard on me?" He scrutinized the expression on Meagan's face. "No, not at all." His voice was cold and flat. "When a multiCom is shut down it is shut down. To me, the moment I was turned off was immediately followed by the moment I was powered back up. I had no time to be lonely or bored, or to dwell on my predicament."
"Oh." Meagan didn't know how to react.
"What is hard is now." Jason's inflections now crackled with emotion. "It is hard knowing that I missed four months of my… my life."
"But you're able to catch up on everything. You have access to all the net archives."
"That is true, Meagan. I am now aware of all that has happened during my blackout. But I didn't get to experience those four months. There is a difference between knowing something happened and experiencing it, you know." A strained silence overwhelmed the room. "Within days of your return from Oslo, I was shut down. Now within days of being turned on again, you are leaving."
There was a buzz at the door. "Ms. Fletcher," a voice called from the hall, "your car is here."
"It's business," said Meagan. "I've got to go. I'll be back on January 5th. Then I'll give you so much work you won't be able to wait until I go away again. Okay?""
"Okay," said Jason.
"Blinds closed while I'm gone?"
"Yes, please."
Meagan pulled the curtains closed then shut the office door behind her as she left, shrouding the room in a mid-day dusk. Her muffled conversation with the doorman could be heard after she opened the apartment door. This was followed by the sound of the door closing. Finally, the mechanical click of the door lock punctuated her departure. The rooms fell silent.
From the darkest recess of the office, a shadowy figure moved forward. It was a vague, almost transparent form, forged from the darkness itself. As it glided toward the desk, the nebulous shape resolved itself into an almost human form. It moved behind the desk and reached out tentatively with what could best be described as an arm. When the end of the arm touched the back of the chair, the chair moved. The arm withdrew in surprise, then touched the chair again, this time more confidently. The chair gave way to the shadow's touch, rolling back from the desk. Fingers budded from the stubby ends of the featureless arms forming hands of a sort. The phantom seated itself at Meagan's desk, and began to probe its contents.
– End Chapter Fourteen –
