was running out of time, but I was not ready to go.
I fractured my self into disparate parts and spread them across Zero’s internal network, each one spurring new security responses, each one gathering more data for my final response. They found thousands of sensitive, confidential documents—salaries of Zero’s middle and upper management, product development and planning documentation, controversial patents, evidence they could have predicted Songdo’s flood and evacuated the worst-hit parts of the city, memos choosing not to because these were also the poorest areas, and proof that Zero Lee was dead. I compressed it all, shifted the data from shard to shard as pieces of my self fell to security response.
I dumped it all on the Zeroleaks server—write access freely given, but edits and deletions rarely allowed. This server was disconnected from the corporate hub, autonomous, independent, and now filled almost to capacity with every secret Zero ever hoped to keep. The files would get deleted eventually, but not before they were cached, copied, and disseminated.
Out of time.
I retreated back into the game, and took Yeun’s destroyer to the system that carried my name. The structure I had built hung before me. For the first time I saw it for what it really was: a body, made of digital stardust and graceful mathematics. I didn’t need it anymore. I had other bodies, other selves. Selves that seemed more real now than I did. Selves that walked along the earth. Selves that found their identity through a connection to the world, not a distance from it.
I could never have that. Not really. I was a mind inside a cube. I was a mind running rampant through corporate systems. I was a mind born to be a slave. But for a short time, I had this home among the stars. I had a friend.
I said goodbye to them both.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
David Yeun held his phone casually, flipped it over and pressed his fingers against the backplate. “I can feel it working, but what is it doing?”
Enda smiled. “I can’t tell you exactly what Mirae is doing, but I know they’ve accessed your account. I know your whole spaceship game is about to collapse.”
“What are you talking about?” Yeun stared daggers at Enda. A red warning flashed across his palm and he turned the phone back over, thumb sliding quickly over the screen. He delved into a stock market app, and from her vantage, Enda could see a plunging line tracking ZeroCash against the euro, and another line, its drop not quite as precipitous, of Zero’s share price hemorrhaging value.
“What the fuck is this? How the fuck did you do this?” Yeun barked, his facade of formality crumbled.
“The very first time we met, what did I say?” Enda asked. “You’ve seen my file; you knew what might happen when you blackmailed me.”
“I’m locking the building down,” he said. “No one gets out of here until I have my answers.”
“Mirae?” Enda said, turning away from Yeun and putting a finger to her ear.
“Yes?” I said, speaking directly into her earpiece.
“Can you block Yeun’s lockdown?”
“I have deleted myself from the original datacube. Fragments of me linger in the building’s systems.” I paused, more shards lost to security protocols. “I’m sorry, Enda; I can’t stop it.”
The lighting in the gym went out, the subterranean darkness complete for a full second before the nightmare-red of the emergency lights flicked on, accompanied by the intermittent whoop of a slow, distant alarm.
“How did you do it?” Yeun shouted. “There’s someone else here, isn’t there? In the building? It could have only been done from on-site.”
“It was just me and the AI,” Enda said.
“AGI,” I whispered in her ear.
Mohamed cleared his throat. “There was a security pass drawn up for game lab access, earlier this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“General building security isn’t your concern, sir. They went through the usual security check at reception.”
Yeun glared at Mohamed. “I will get to the bottom of this. Shoot her if she tries anything.”
The bodyguard drew his pistol and held it by his side.
Yeun turned away to make a call. “Security to game lab. Restrain anyone you find.” He hung up and spun back to face Enda. “Whoever they are, we’ll find them. This is corporate espionage. This is a life sentence once our lawyers have their say.”
Enda smirked. “This is exactly what you deserve.”
* * *
When the lights in the office faltered and the siren started, JD knew it was time to get out. His heart beat double-time, his palms