Free Glitch by Curtis Hox Page B

don’t fully understand what they are. They work for us. That is what is most important.”
    Simone nodded. “I wish I did ...”
    “Do you see why it’s dangerous to summon them?” her mother asked.
    “They want to—”
    “—be us,” her father said.
    Simone glanced toward the woods, as if she might see them again. “Be individuals.”
    Her mother nodded. “We can use that desire.”
    “We have to be careful,” her father said, glaring at her mother, “because they’re impetuous, like a gun with an easy trigger. They value our uniqueness. Your mother and I may disagree on just what that is, and we know you like to think of them as celestial beings or angels or demons or whatever you call them, but they’re real, and we have to use them with determination and wisdom.”
    “Or they’ll leave you hanging like today,” her mother said.
    Her father snorted. “Or worse.”
    Simone wanted to shut her mind off for a week, as if she’d just run a mental marathon and needed a long rest. But she had so many questions. “What good are they?”
    “They’re the key.” Her father walked to her and reached out, as if to pull her to him; he paused inches a way. “Your dress ...”
    She saw he was pointing to the open collar. She pulled it down to her sternum and revealed the brand in full relief now: SWML . “These are your initials, Dad.”
    “They are. I’m sorry.”
    He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He paused for only a few more seconds, a frown marring his face. The sadness turned to anger at this sacrilege. He turned and floated back to the cabin. He didn’t go inside, but went around it into the darkness.
    “Let him be,” her mother said.
    “Dad feels guilty about his double?”
    “Every day.”
    “His double is strong?”
    “It’s a divinity in Cyberspace.”
    “And he’ll use the entities if he has to.”
    “He’ll turn every Altertranshuman into an ghost if he can. Now that you’re one, so would I.” Her mother stood by her side in the darkness, and Simone’s glow cast enough light that her mother almost looked like a ghost herself. “Tell me where you go at night, dear. I worry about you.”
    “I hang out around here. It’s easy to shut my eyes and fall into a trance and pretend to dream. Too easy.” She imagined a tear forming, but no moisture emerged. “I miss breakfast with you, blueberry pancakes, and coffee with whip cream—and crispy bacon ... oh, yeah, bacon.”
    “I do, too.” Her mother moved as close as she could without touching her. “Don’t forget that part of life, ever. Your father pretends he doesn’t miss his body, but I know he has to. He believes he’s stronger as a ghost … he may be right.”
    “I’d also like some hot chocolate.”
    “You miss it? Your body?”
    She turned away. “Next week. They’ll be announcing the exhibition matches, and word is they’ll have a few deregulated ones, and that means Alters will be allowed to compete. But enough of that.” Her mother leaned her head back, rocking now. “Before I go, tell me. What’s it like being a ghost?”
    * * *
    “Your mom okay?” her father asked as the ATV’s engine faded in the distance. He appeared out of the dark and floated to the porch.
    “I was telling her what it was like to be a ghost.”
    “You should know, Simone, that I only have the best intentions for you.”
    “I know, Dad. My entities didn’t like the fact I was a ghost.”
    Simone was relieved when her father sat. Uncle Pic snored in his loft, while her father stared off as if seeing something on a faraway horizon.
    “Being a ghost is a shock to them,” her father said, “one of the reasons I first thought they were AIs, instead of merely psychic manifestations of our own mental potentials.” He smiled. “But I have a solution. It’s child’s play, honey. What every Alter needs to be able to do, and I bet your mother hasn’t told you how—”
    “Probably not.”
    “—is to bind them