Free Freedom by Daniel Suárez

spirits are wives’ tales. However—”
    Sebeck held up his hand. “Yeah. I stand corrected.”
    “Good. I chose my darknet profession, and it is shaman . It governs my skill tree and level advancement. Is that more clear?”
    He nodded.
    “I see that you’re a first-level Fighter. Which makes it all the more puzzling that you’ve been geased by Mad Emperor to complete this quest.”
    “ Geased ? What’s ‘geased’ mean?”
    “It’s ancient Gaelic. It means an enchantment that compels you to complete a task. It’s an incredibly powerful spell—far, far above my level.”
    “Can I break free of it?”
    “Not if you accepted the quest. The only one who can cancel it is the one who gave it to you: Mad Emperor.”
    Sebeck recalled sitting in the office of a funeral home, talking with an interactive three-dimensional recording of Sobol. The avatar had asked him: do you accept the task of finding justification for the freedom of humanity? Yes or no? It was an out-of-control voice recognition monster, and Sebeck felt compelled to accept, if only to buy time. If only to protect his family.
    “I had no choice.”
    “Maybe. But be warned: you must choose your words carefully on the darknet. Words have power in this new age. They are not just sounds. Where ancient people believed in gods and devils that listened to their pleas and curses—in this age immortal entities hear us. Call them bots or spirits; there is no functional difference now. They surround us and through them word-forms become an unlock code that can trigger a blessing or a curse. Mankind created systems whose inter-reactions we could not fully understand, and the spirits we gathered have escaped from them into the land where they walk the earth—or the GPS grid, whichever you prefer. The spirit world overlaps the real one now, and our lives will never be the same.”
    Sebeck didn’t know what to say. A couple of years ago he would have called her crazy, but she was right—spirits or bots, it was just semantics. “And what happens if I refuse to proceed?”
    “If you stray from your path, the Daemon will compel you to return to it. Of more concern to me is how you could possibly complete your quest while remaining first level.”
    “I can’t go up levels?”
    “The darknet is arranged like Sobol’s game world. You can only go up levels by completing tasks—or quests. However, the Geas spell prevents you from taking on any other quests until you complete this one. You are stuck at first level until you achieve your goal. And you have quite a goal.” She didn’t appear too optimistic. Riley checked her watch. “We need to get going. You should wake up your factor.”
    “Factor?”
    She pointed at Price sleeping in the car. “Chunky Monkey.”
    “Where are we heading?”
    She patted the “Enchanted Mesa Spa & Resort” logo on the side of the van. “You’re with us until you certify with the shamanic interface.”
    He glanced back at the car and shrugged. “I’m good to go.” “You’re leaving your factor behind?”
    “He’s a spy planted by Sobol.”
    She reached up to manipulate unseen objects in a way that Sebeck had seen Price do many times. A few moments later she shook her head. “I don’t see that he’s reporting to anyone. Although, he has been tasked by Mad Emperor to handle the logistics of your quest. Unlike you, he can quit this task at any time and be replaced.” She lowered her hands. “But neither has he given you high marks for cooperation.”
    “Leave him.”
    She just looked at Sebeck. “And your things?”
    “Replaceable. A few changes of clothing, toiletries.”
    “If that’s what you want.”

    Riley drove the passenger van south into scrublands, past creosote bushes and the occasional piñon tree. They were headed toward distant mesas of tan rock, mottled by the shadows of clouds. Sebeck was glad that the Thread no longer loomed in front of him. His view was unobstructed for the first time in a