《The Death of Money》Part 62 Artificial Sunshine II
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“We’re not going anywhere,” the head debater Liane said. Waiting outside, she ruffled her hair, annoyed at the dry heat.
Others nodded behind her saying, “Yeah!” and pinching open the buttons of their dress shirts.
“Not until you tell us how you did,” Liane finished.
On the other side of the sliding doors, Yeung-Sung groaned.
Crossing her arms, she stared through the window at Woo-Yi. “You were about to tell her, weren’t you?” she demanded, walking closer to the entrance. “Don’t tell me you told her already?”
Waving his hands in denial, Yeung-Sung said, “I haven’t -I mean, I’m not going to. Besides, it would be too complicated for her to understand.”
“Because she’s a woman?” Liane smirked.
Yeung-Sung went cranberry red instantaneously and looked in shame at Woo-Yi. After a short sigh, he continued, “I don’t want to get her involved in this.”
“We are -all of us- involved in this.”
The debater chief firmed her back, stepping a foot into the store and leered at Yeung-Sung.
As a customer wandered out, clutching their dinner close to their heart, Liane drew back and feigned a smile, the terror of which made the customer hurry away even faster.
“You see?” she hissed. “Look at the real situation most people are in and tell me us how you, number one-thousand, the last person to be introduced to the experiment, could possibly understand Airgead?” She shook her head, pointing to invisible signs as she said, “Better than PM? Better than RolePlayers, better even than the Champions?”
She thinks I’m arrogant too.
Yeung-Sung tensed his wrists, ready to push the mouthy Debater out of from his store when another knock startled him.
Woo-Yi stood on the other side with irritable customers spread around her, tilting her head at the two of them.
Is she jealous?
“I’d better go,” he said to Liane, “Just wait until we’re done with this and I promise I’ll explain everything. I told you; I’m not like the Finers.”
As he walked back inside, he touched the spot where Woo-Yi had buried her head in when she saw him and it was damp.
She cried? Woo-Yi…there’s no way you think of me like that, is there?
The explanation began in the middle of tall, slim shadows. Yeung-Sung had helped the Debaters drag in the desk as there wasn’t anywhere in his store to sit. Closed, with the lights off inside, thick slices of orange lit up the walls in the late afternoon. After handing out bottles of water, Woo-Yi took a stand, safe behind her till. Yeung-Sung leaned back against the counter and watched the skyline. It was interesting how the falling sun lined the skyline of the old estates in bold ink, but the apartments of the colony seemed to sink into the huge glob, like salt into an omelette.
“Where should I start?” he asked.
Comfortable in his chair -still wrapped- Liane answered, “After your outburst during the protest, I guess.” The wrapping paper crinkled as she raised her hand to take a drink.
“You said you were going to solve Airgead and overthrow Jordan; How about we start from there?” she suggested. “We all thought you were mad. Hoped, anyway, because we don’t need a second one -Jordan, I mean.”
“You did what?” Woo-Yi gasped behind Yeung-Sung.
She shook him from behind until he silently confirmed it with a nod. Her hands in wall just under the brim of her lips, she asked, “What were you thinking?”
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More crinkling sprinkled into Yeung-Sung’s ears as both parties on either side of him waited for his reply.
What am I supposed to say to them? I had no idea what I was doing -only led on by my sympathy for a certain English programmer and egged on by Jordan’s own AI. It sounds so unlikely, and in any case wouldn’t make for a good story.
What do they expect of me?
Woo-Yi’s looking at me different. Like I’m a fish-head in her salad. I suppose I could tell her that I only said those things in order to protect the colony. You know, to stop the riots, dissuade people from retaliating against GLI, a fight that nobody would take bets on. ‘I was de-escalating the situation.’ I could say that.
But the Debaters, they see me as simply a tool to be used. Same as PM. I’d love to tell them that I knew how to do it all along, that while everyone was too busy coming up with the philosophical implications of Jordan’s system, I was asking questions!
I either tell them I knew everything, or that I knew nothing.
Pushing up from the counters, Yeung-Sung pulled up the sleeves of his pullover and sighed.
“The truth is…” he began.
The Debaters sat on his newly bought furniture and listened intently with the hungry pupils of starving whales. Woo-Yi dared not look at all, fanning her eyelashes down. She opened up one of the old decorative registers as if there was cash there to be counted. Yeung-Sung stretched his arm over the counter and put his hand over hers.
“The truth is I never –”
[We have a problem]
[Oh, we have a big problem]
Yeung-Sung darted deep into the store. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kept his back to the group as he tried to figure out how to turn MEDB off, or at the very least muffle her voice. And if that didn’t work, to turn off the phone itself.
But that crooning accent tore out around the shelves and jacked itself into the ears of the Woo-Yi, Liane and the rest of the Debaters. And they wanted so badly to know what on earth was being hidden from them; the people already themselves hidden away in a secret colony.
[Sorry if this is a bad time -Actually, I know for a fact that this a bad time- but I might not get another chance]
Woo-Yi shrieked. It was a gem-scraping noise that, with her full tone added, was more like she was subjecting Yeung-Sung to a methodical torture than a scared reaction.
“WHO…is that?” she screamed, pointing.
“It’s coming from your Airgead!” Liane said with a gasp. “I should’ve guessed; It’s the AI!”
In her shock, Liane laughed, covering one eye with the palm of her hand. Her colleagues rushed to her aid, but found it difficult to juggle restraining her with watching the revelation unfold.
“I knew one person, least of all you, could’ve defeated the Gauntlet out of nowhere,” she said in between heavy breaths, “You’re working with Airgead’s Artificial Intelligence to cheat.”
“No…Jordan’s AI?” questioned Woo-Yi. “The one that screwed up the market?”
Still turned away like a child hiding a stray cat he brought in the house, Yeung-Sung bared his teeth over his shoulder. “It’s -It’s not like that.”
The Debaters got up to leave with such gusto that they knocked back Yeung-Sung’s chair, and shoved the table to its side with a great crack.
Running after them, Yeung-Sung tugged at Liane’s sleeve to show her the screen on his phone. As she recoiled in utter terror, he pleaded,
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“That’s not what happened. Not at all, that isn’t how I won. Tell them, MEDB!”
The computational spirit-voice leapt out, reminiscent of the late Una.
[It’s what everyone thinks, not just them. Jordan is certain that I’ve been leaking info on the system, he’s bound to discover that my communications with you]
“But that’s not true,” said Yeung-Sung, pulled to a halt by her words.
Not you too, MEDB. Don’t turn against me too…
Liane tugged back, pushing Yeung-Sung to the floor. “I’ve heard enough.” She fixed her suit jacket with a snap. “You are Jordan’s pet. The only way we all get out of here is if we leave you be. The only way we can pass the experiment is on his terms. I had hoped –”
She stopped, kicked her foot back then swung it forward, rattling the dark wood table against the bread aisle.
“Ugh, I don’t know what I had hoped for,” she admitted to herself, to everyone, “That maybe you actually were something of what you claimed to be.”
“Let’s go,” Liane said to her crew, but then stopped as she remembered Woo-Yi. The Debaters arms hung limp out of her sleeves as she stood in the entranceway.
“What about you? Are you part of this treachery too? Another one of Jordan’s pets?”
[I hear the anger in your heart. But relax, this was inevitable.
Listen to Yeung-Sung’s explanation. You will believe it if you hear it from him]
Yeung-Sung crunched down his teeth, heat and pressure burning through every bone in his body, through every phantom wound that he held on to at Jordan’s hand.
“How dare you!” he shouted at the departing Debaters, “How dare you call me -call her that!” He pushed himself to his feet. “I am nothing like him. I want nothing to do with him.”
His fist had cracked the wood of a shelf before he knew it. The same shelf that the table was pushed against, it broke under the continuous strain and impacts, spilling whole and half-pan loaves, multi-seed and tiger, soda bread and mini-baguettes, sliding against the sideways table like a banquet in zero-gravity. Sawdust fluttered in the blood orange sunset. Yeung-Sung dropped to his knees calmly, but inside he was anything but.
“MEDB…” he muttered.
Woo-Yi looked at him for a long time, and he had a thought that maybe this time she would stay, maybe this time their encounter wouldn’t end with her running away in tears. But that hope was ripped aside like the plastic covering of the fresh breads; She turned away.
Slumping down further, in his self-made wreckage, Yeung-Sung threw down his phone.
[Now GLI will think that I’m a rat]
He heard something catch in Woo-Yi’s throat.
“What do you mean, ‘think’?” she said, swirling to face his phone, “If you had told them the truth, how you did it straight away instead of leading them here with some…furniture? Then you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Yeung-Sung blinked in surprise. “You’re still here. You, um, believe me?”
“Not entirely,” she replied. She knelt down to where Yeung-Sung had scattered his phone and picked it up, but her arms remained rigid at her sides.
“But, “she continued, offering him the strangely unscathed thing, “I do happen to know you, and I don’t think you’d ever work with Jordan. Regardless of if there’s good cause to.”
She glanced down at the screen as he took it. Wary, but curious.
She believes me. Yeung-Sung sat dumbfounded, tracing the silent words with his lips. You believe me. You really do.
“Thank you,” he tearfully said to her.
[Great, she’s on board]
Woo-Yi bit her lip, but Yeung-Sung held her hand and they sat together in the sunset, looking down at Airgead.
[Now, we need to talk: Like I said, Jordan will no doubt find out about us. It was inevitable, but now -yeah, it’ll be very soon]
The phone rumbled in his lap, like a shivering cat.
[I predict his first action will be to shut down my transmission capabilities, tying me down strictly to Airgead’s Gauntlet]
Woo-Yi coughed, hitting Yeung-Sung’s shoulder with their intertwined hands.
“Sorry, Woo-Yi,” he said as she nodded quizzically at the screen, “This is MEDB, Airgead’s AI.”
Shielding herself with her other arm, Wo-Yi replied, “Hu- Hello!” in English.
MEDB whirred inside the phone, and though she kept her distinct musical centre she spoke in Korean. [It’s a pleasure; Woo-Yi, yes?]
[I’ve been exposed to several of your works. Though I don’t understand it, I do find them fascinating and applaud you on your work ethic]
“Does she always,” Woo-Yi asked, swerving her elbows round like a first-time conductor, “Talk in that way?”
Before Yeung-Sung could reply, MEDB came to her own defence with a jagged saw wave underlining her tone.
[Doesn’t seem robotic? Yeah, you’re not the first person to point it out]
She laughed in her maniacal, mechanical fashion.
[Not even the first person in this conversation] Following that was the sound of a miniature plane taking off and passing by; a sigh.
Woo-Yi smiled, embarrassed, and took up some of the rubble of the broken shelving which plumed with dust as she stroked it with a thumb. Slowly, she separated the fallen stock from it.
Watching her, Yeung-Sung asked MEDB, “You’re pretty nonchalant about this. I thought this was urgent?”
The screen flared violet.
[Nonchalant, is it? I was simply waiting for you to run out of interruptions, for the optimal time to announce my ideas for your future gauntlet runs. But…I got bored]
Woo-Yi handed him a block of wood; he knocked on the hollow thing.
“What do you mean, ‘your idea’?” he asked, “I beat you, one versus thirty. You don’t think I can do it again, and twenty more times after that?”
[Don’t be so over-confident!]
The stuttering shivers of her growl sat on its haunches by Yeung-Sung’s ears, like hearing the glissando over a row of metallic teeth.
[You won] MEDB began [because you exploited what everyone else had been doing. Now that I understand your strategic mind, I can adapt. I must adapt]
Crackles and skips started creeping into her voice. [Jordan will cut my power if I fail again so quickly]
Hugging as much bread as she could gather, Woo-Yi got up, counting them at the counter.
“She really isn’t helping you, is she?” she giggled.
Yeung-Sung barely heard her, crushing his hand between his thighs as he ruminated.
I was never meant to win. Jordan -he let me because he thought it laughable that I could do such a thing, let alone overnight. And now he’s bound to know of my bond with MEDB.’
As Woo-Yi headed to the warehouse to store the stock, Yeung-Sung now scoured the debris. He bent over to take up another shaft of wood, but this one was so flimsy that it fell apart in his hand. Breaking it up was too easy; it simply effervesced on contact in an illusion of power.
Stroking the blonde chips off his fingers, he said, “That’s fine MEDB. Bring all you’ve got.”
[No -what? You’re saying fool things, you spastic]
She let out a warbled groan, a stressed poly-synth.
[Let’s make up a fake argument instead, a tit-for-tat game where you sometimes you win, sometimes I win. Make it believe enough to fool my creator that everything’s going according to his plan]
Yeung-Sung watched the dust blow down and settle in a form unrecognisable form the solid hunk of wood it had been. It could have been hours.
“No. I have to fail,” he told MEDB. “There’s no way around it; PM won’t let me back in once they get wind of what Liane is spreading.”
A hand appeared on his neck, cradling the crevasse on the inside of his collarbone.
“Yeung-Sung,” Woo-Yi said quietly, “She -the thing -the AI is right. You two should broker an agreement. For everyone’s safety.”
Her words were stank of a pre-formed opinion, of forcing that opinion unto him.
“Really?” Yeung-Sung rose, taking her with him, peering into her eyes. The sweltering day had left her skin tense, as well has his. “And when Jordan reads her memory logs? She has no physical body -who’s going to stop him?”
He turned the phone to face him. “That’s how he found out in the first place, did he not?”
[Yes and no. Tampering with Airgead’s marketplace implicated my ability to do so- he can surmise the rest from recent events]
[But he did. Yes. Stole a look inside me. Shamed me for it -I made him look bad]
“That’s what I thought,” said Yeung-Sung nodding. Together with Woo-Yi, he headed for the stock room. “And thanks to these Debaters -MEDB- now everyone will question Jordan even more. And question me”
Woo-Yi pulled away from him. “Has your ego risen so high that other’s opinions matter so much to you now?” She huffed. “Why don’t you just tell them what you know about Airgead like they asked, so everyone has an equal chance to progress?”
Yeung-Sung paused. Licked his parched lips. Stuck up a finger.
“That,” he said, swinging out of the utility closet with a broom, “is precisely what I should do.”
[No! You know they won’t trust you. They won’t even believe you.]
Yeung-Sung shoved his phone into his back pocket. Through the fabric, MEDB’s muffled protests continued.
[They can’t split their resources properly]
[Don’t you realize that it has to be you?]
[Yeung-Sung]
[You’d better change your mind…please]
Woo-Yi swallowed. He swore that he saw her knees quiver.
“I hate to side against, you know, people, but she has a point.” She wore a lethargic smile, her gaze reaching around Yeung-Sung towards his concealed phone. “If you don’t ally with her, it may be like before where progress stopped and no one had any medals.”
“Maybe,” Yeung-Sung admitted. But is she thinking more about her own safety? I can no longer trust her, or anyone for that matter.
Beginning to sweep the mess around the bread aisle, Yeung-Sung smiled.
“But for now, I work here. With you. So, let’s clean this up and get ready for tomorrow.”
Woo-Yi nodded, giving him a quick hug before she resumed picking up fallen produce.
I can’t be the saviour of this colony. PM almost had me convinced that I could, but I was right all along. But Jordan’s challenge still stands, and all eyes are on me. What can I do except pass on my knowledge to the rest?
Hopefully, I can find somebody to take my place.
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