Free The Bloodlight Chronicles: Reconciliation by Steve Stanton

in charge while I’m gone.”
    â€œThat scares me even more.”
    â€œThis mission is important for the people of Earth, not just me. You’ve been Eternal for so long you’ve forgotten the fear of death.”
    â€œI can see that your motivation remains quite strong. Motivation has never been your weak suit in the card game of life.”
    â€œDo you think I am in danger of losing my identity? Sacrificing my cerebrum?”
    â€œIs that what you worry about?”
    â€œIn the darkness of the night anything seems possible.”
    Dr. Mundazo squinted at her in study. He took a long moment to compose his thoughts. “I would think a shared personality could infiltrate your brain to the degree necessary to alter behaviour patterns. You could be controlled without your knowledge or approval. To some extent, of course, we are all influenced by various external media and environmental stimuli around us. But inside us, we like to think we have a tabernacle of consciousness, a private place where no one but God can intervene. Modern technology has taken that away from us now. I’m not sure how we as a race will react when every thought and every sin is exposed to public view.”
    Silus’s blue eyes shone with resolve like hard diamonds, and Helena felt her composure weaken under his scrutiny. She puffed up her chest with a quick and resolute breath. She had gone too far to turn back now. “Unfortunately, we can’t turn technology around, Silus. If we delay, we are run over and flattened underfoot. If we resist, we are branded heretics and burned at the metaphorical stake. If we surf the wave, if we ride the crest, at least we’re still in the game.”

FOUR
    P rime Level Three was bright and clean, guarded vigilantly for the upper crust of society, V-net patrons who paid a monthly surcharge for privileged access. Colours seemed more radiant here than on lower levels, props and adornments animated with higher definition and detail, visitors more respectable and cultured. The entire level operated under Class B encryption, which was a mere formality to any serious hacker but served as a psychological deterrent to most users.
    Robot browsers patrolled the streets, sniffing for stray data and gobbling up digital corruption. They looked like dogs to passing users, bulky guard dogs on wheels. The cybertrackers picked up loose files and fragmented data that might otherwise litter the streets and slow down access times. They kept the main thoroughfares antiseptic and comfortable, though they occasionally tagged on to unsuspecting tourists in their thirst for data and had to be dislodged by licensed quarantine control officers. It was a criminal offense to destroy cybertrackers or attempt to manipulate their programs, which made them a target of choice among empowered teenagers on the V-net, who systematically reprogrammed them for recreational warcraft.
    Apart from bandit browsers and the occasional ghost avatar, problems and pitfalls were few on Prime Level Three. International traders and diplomats preferred to work uplevel where transmission speeds were optimum and signals unscathed over long distances. Currency experts and commodity speculators, for whom money was often measured in microseconds, thought nothing of the extra expense of working uplevel. The elite were continually driven higher by new and faster technology as they vied to escape the huddled crowds clogging the V-net levels below.
    High-profile advertisers targeted the upper levels with billboards, icons, and animated hyperlinks of all shapes and sizes. Cartoon poster boys, sexy teddy bears, and other corporate animatrons offered free exotic vacations and offplanet eccentricities to passersby. Financial consultants, nutritional managers, and spiritual gurus vied together for the latest spark of innovation to capture the fleeting interest of jaded and often cynical users who had already seen the whole world before