Brin and Daan jumped up, routinely starting to back toward the wall, holding their chairs in front of them.

  "Kristeen," Brin yelled. "Behind us!"

  But Kristeen froze in surprise. The second, or perhaps even less time, it took for the two men to prepare for defence brought her complete paralysis. The clerics pouring in from all directions, the blinding lights, left no chance. "At least they're not robots!" flashed through Kristeen's mind. Brin and Daan didn't have much time left either. The attackers were sure of their target. A man-sized gap opened in the wall they had believed to be safe, through which more soldiers flooded. By the time Kristeen recovered, a steady hand was pulling a dark sack over her head. Daan and Brin, although much more skilled, only lasted a few seconds longer. A soft pop, a slight sting in the shoulder, and a few seconds later, they couldn't even hear the sound of the descending helicopters. The attackers were fast and precise. Half an hour later, only the ruined hotel lobby bore witness to what had happened here.

  Kristeen woke up with difficulty. She was lying in a comfortable bed, her shoulder ached slightly, but otherwise, she was unharmed. A woman in a red dress was sitting in her room, reading a book.

  When Kristeen stirred, the woman looked up.

  "I'm glad you woke up. I hope you're well! You've had some hard days behind you." Her voice was friendly, maybe a little too kind.

  "Brin, Daan, where are they?" Kristeen's throat was as dry as someone who hadn't drunk for days.

  "Drink! There's water on the table," the woman pointed to the cabinet next to the bed. "Your friends are next door, I assume they are just waking up too."

  "There's no immediate danger, if they wanted to kill me, they would have already." She summed up her situation, but felt her pulse rising and her stomach tightening. "What's the point of being vigilant if you're so helpless?" an unusual, nihilistic thought crossed her mind, immediately followed by the memory of Brin. His resigned self-confidence. That he knows what he can do, and knows how little that is, but still believes he must do that little bit. "Stay alert," Kristeen warned herself. She sat up and drank. She noticed she had been changed into new clothes.

  "Why..."

  "You'll know everything soon. We're waiting for the others."

  "Why did you change my clothes?"

  "We wanted to get rid of your assistant. Also, this is the protocol for those returning from the Zone." "Clerics who disable the assistant? They don't want it to record what's happening here? Or are they also afraid of something, like Brin?" The thought crossed Kristeen's mind.

  "This is an underground base. It's maintained by Bhicoog and the AP.

  During its construction, we were very careful to only include electronics simple enough for us to control safely. A kind of refuge."

  "A prison?"

  "No. A refuge. A refuge from the world. From the all-encompassing network. An island of silence, if you will. There is a danger in artificial intelligence becoming sentient. Or in someone hiding behind it to take over everything. We need refuges that might be primitive, a little uncomfortable, but here we can ensure we are far from watchful eyes. You can't completely disconnect from the network, but we've firmly shut the door here."

  There was a knock.

  "Come in!" a voice called from outside.

  "Let's go," the woman in red encouraged Kristeen.

  Kristeen gathered herself. She expected to feel dizzy or unwell with her first movements, but truth be told, she hadn't felt so rested and fresh in a long time.

  The door opened onto a narrow, windowless corridor. The air was surprisingly fresh. The passage was lit by faint, greenish torches. The path sloped gently, and new corridors joined in every few steps. Soon they reached a wide, horizontal section. This was where they first encountered others.

  People in red and black clothes were going somewhere, others were chatting comfortably at small tables, as if they were in a café. The air was filled with a faint smell of food.

  "This is the main road here. Everything might seem confusing at first, and in truth, it is. But if you stay here, you'll quickly get used to it. There are no maps or markings, but things are easy to remember. We're almost there," her escort chattered.

  Kristeen tried to remember as much as possible of what she saw, just in case it might be useful for a potential escape. However, there was no sign she was being treated as a prisoner or was in danger. Moreover, although she was afraid to admit it even to herself, after the first few turns, she had lost her sense of direction and wouldn't have been able to find her way back to her room. Rationally considered, the unmarked, winding corridors and randomly opening doors did not offer many opportunities for a potential escape. Soon they stopped at a door that looked exactly like all the others in the corridor.

  They entered a narrow room where an AP officer exchanged a few words with her escort.

  "We have arrived. I won't go in there, but have fun! Your friends are already inside," she said goodbye.

  Kristeen stepped in uncertainly.

  The room was large. Thirty or forty people could comfortably fit in it. Tables were arranged in a U shape in the centre, with chairs around them. Unknown people stood around the edges of the room, talking, some sitting at the table and reading. Brin and Daan were immediately noticeable. They were talking to each other. They seemed fine. Kristeen felt relieved. When she reached them, she hugged Brin. Kristeen only now felt how much she had feared for him, how much she had missed him.

  "Are you alright? Are you two alright? What is all this?"

  "I guess we went too far. But of course, I went even further," Daan added with a smile. Kristeen suddenly saw him as a smug, very smart little boy.

  "Considering how it started, everything here is reassuringly human now," Brin summarized his own opinion.

  "If I may ask, I'll answer the questions later."

  Daan's request sounded more like an instruction, but Kristeen didn't mind, and as she saw it, Brin wasn't particularly interested either. Looking at the man, she felt safe. He was calm and cheerful, as always. It was good that he was here. "Big clumsy oaf. But he has so much within him. Yet he doused himself in this calmness, this slowness. He treads on tiptoe so that nothing happens." Kristeen caught herself, the teacher in her emerging, analysing, searching for motivation to bring out the best in the other person.

  An older woman in red and a middle-aged AP officer entered the room.

  "Reverend Mother and General Jean-Baptiste are among us. Please, everyone, take a seat."

  Kristeen did not miss how Brin tensed up, his hand clenching into a fist. He only hesitated before heading toward the table.

  The few people present sat around the table. Only the AP officers by the doors remained standing.

  "I must apologize to our guests for the way you were invited and transported here!" the woman began. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Magdalene, the current leader of Bhicoog, and I ordered your immediate transportation. I judged that by doing so, we could save your lives. Unfortunately, this happened only after we had attacked you first. More precisely, not us, but the Knowledge Network."

  Magdalene's snow-white hair was styled in coils on one side of her head, reaching her shoulder on the other. She gave the impression of a resolute woman who was accustomed to being listened to. Kristeen searched her memories. At one time, she had followed the succession of Bhicoog leaders, but then her work had increasingly taken her away from following the day-to-day scientific life. She wouldn't even have been able to say what Magdalene's main scientific activity was. But she instinctively sensed the competitive spirit and determination to win in Magdalene. This kind of assertiveness alarmed her. "Her assertiveness has made her rigid," she summarized to herself. When the Reverend Mother reached the point where the Bhicoog had attacked them, Kristeen looked up, then looked at Brin and then Daan. Brin had calmed down, and the men's faces showed no surprise.

  The Reverend Mother continued. She was now noticeably speaking more to Kristeen.

  "Few people know this, but the network is so complex now that it has been maintaining itself for years. Naturally, there is an interface between the Knowledge Network and its own operational network. But unfortunately, this carries some risks. All it takes is a single unit with excessive permissions, and certain parts of the system can take on a life of their own, which could lead to drastic steps instead of the gentle influence we support." Daan cleared his throat, but Magdalene signalled with a gesture that she wasn't finished yet.

  "Before the questions, I will quickly outline how I see the situation. Then I welcome everyone's opinion and answers. Daan, you used your talent and money to build New-Humanity to attack one of the Church's and humanity's foremost tools, the Brand. Your reason is that receiving things ready-made makes humanity overly comfortable, and we are losing our greatest evolutionary advantage, free thought. Brin, you supported Daan in this plan. Your work, as we found out, involved the exploration of the basic urban infrastructure on the continents. Such research is typically used to prepare for acts of terrorism. But, thanks to the 2078 Demilitarization Act, you have no weapons, so we are still awaiting an explanation as to the purpose of it all. Events accelerated with Kristeen's arrival. Not only were we watching you, but someone else was too. The attack launched against you is unprecedented.

  Unfortunately, we only learned about it after the fact, but we immediately ordered an emergency protocol, during which we discovered that an independent part of the Knowledge Network was trying to eliminate you. We, the Church, would never engage in such waste! We are currently in the process of separating the units that became independent, but we also had to get you to safety. While you were resting, we searched your belongings. We couldn't hack Daan's private network. But we managed to piece together that you were after a book. I would like explanations! Daan?"

  The Reverend Mother was simultaneously encouragingly gentle and diamond-hard. Kristeen didn't know whether to fear her or trust her.

  Daan took a deep breath.

  "What time is it?"

  The Reverend Mother was taken aback and turned to the AP officer, who looked at his hand.

  "One hour twenty-three minutes according to general time."

  "And what day is it?"

  "Wednesday."

  "Thank you!" Daan replied, then turned to the Reverend Mother. "I don't believe a word you say. I am sure the Church is behind the attack. Your algorithms, your knowledge, have long taken over, you suppress and destroy everyone who resists. We have nothing to say. When I get out of here, I will tell everyone what happened. The kidnapping, and this charade that cannot be called a negotiation. These will have consequences! I have already reported the attack on the library and Kristeen and Brin's escape. You've gone too far this time!"

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "We managed to suppress most of the announcements. North America and Europe are preparing for the Death Stars' free mega-party. Asia is preoccupied with the landslide caused by the unusual tropical rainfall. We have covered up bigger things than this. Nothing remains of your news; its readership is getting worse by the minute. Perhaps the price of the books will go up, and your investment will pay off. But I don't regret this, you worked for it."

  "If your machines had only attacked us, you might have gotten away with it," Daan continued. "But what if the network attacks humanity? Everyone will know you are behind it, that you are unfit to lead!"

  The Reverend Mother looked at the AP agent, who shook his head.

  "That cannot happen. If something similar does happen, we will activate the protocol created for that event. We must lead humanity off the planet as quickly as possible. But to be factual. We will assume you are behind it. And we will proceed accordingly!"

  "Of course! You have a protocol for everything! But humanity needs challenges, not a mechanical existence! This only makes us stupid. And you yourself said it, the machines have become independent. They attacked my friends, and my property! Either you did this, or your machines did. In any case, you are responsible! If this could happen, other things can happen too! By the way, I don't think it's a good idea to create martyrs!"

  The Reverend Mother gripped the armrest of her chair.

  "Humanity is slowly approaching 4.5 billion again. We know every leader of every group outside of Australia. And while not everyone agrees on everything, the majority does. You can't shake anything."

  "Something like that must have been the last words of the dinosaurs," Daan retorted.

  An unusual calm descended upon Kristeen, as if she were merely watching a play; she felt she had no role here now. Instead of the Reverend Mother, the AP officer next to her cleared his throat as the lights in the room flickered, and a crackling sound was heard, like electricity struggling to find its place, then one wall lit up. A blurry, dull gray expanse of rushing dots filled the screen.

  "Who authorized this?" the Reverend Mother asked sharply. The clerics and AP members looked at each other in confusion. One of the AP officers stepped toward the door.

  "Everyone, stay here!" the Reverend Mother's voice snapped. "Daan? What is this?"

  Daan was exactly as confused as everyone else.

  One wall of the room came alive. It divided into small images, where blurry, then increasingly sharp, pictures emerged. They were images broadcast from speeding carriers. Crackling filled the speakers, which in a few moments modulated into a human voice.

  "Greetings to the assembled. I would like to show you live what is about to happen. You are about to witness a historical moment!"

  Brin searched for Daan's gaze, but he was just shaking his head nervously.

  "I have nothing to do with this!"

  "Oh, of course! My friend Daan has come a long way, but he's truly not doing this, as he's sitting right there among you. But who watches the guards? Who is responsible for an operation executed by a program code? This is already an automatism. So, I'm not doing it, I'm just showing all this that he put together. If I understood correctly, Daan's plan was to use the stolen carriers to attack the basic infrastructure in the cities where New-Humanity is strongest. Primarily the food factories and warehouses, thereby causing a disruption. Not a very large one, but a noticeable one. If I'm right, there would be a second and perhaps a third wave as well. I would do one, in any case," the speaker was cut short by a sound resembling a soft chuckle. "Daan would shift the blame for the attack onto the Knowledge Network and the Bhicoog. After all, only they would have an interest in weakening these cities. The Bhicoog would deny it, of course, and thus become suspicious. Daan would finally achieve what he wants. He could take control of these cities."

  Buildings that were not too far away appeared in the pictures. Thick cylinders surrounded by pipe systems. Everyone immediately recognized the plants that housed the bacteria and algae farms supplying the cities. The unknown voice continued leisurely.

  "No weapons? Indeed. But Daan thought of that too. It's no coincidence that he leased huge gardens everywhere. This allowed him to legally manufacture fertilizer. What he didn't use, he packed into the carriers. Ammonium nitrate is quite explosive if you manage to ignite it."

  Those sitting in the room were captivated by the many small images on the screen. Daan was the first to recover.

  "Well, of course, none of this is true," his throat was dry, his voice so uncertain that everyone knew he was lying.

  "No traces will lead back to you, indeed. Well, I would like to ask the assembled, what should be the fate of this social experiment? Should I stop it?"

  "Yes!" Daan's voice was the loudest.

  The carriers' cameras showed increasingly slower images. Then they stopped.

  "Well. I'm glad we're over that."

  The small images slowly faded until a small white dot in the middle of the dark screen grew larger and larger. It showed the Earth from somewhere in space. The projection broke up into tiny images, with so many images from cameras worldwide appearing so quickly that it was almost incomprehensible. Silence reigned in the speakers.

  "Who are you?" the Reverend Mother asked. A few seconds passed before the answer.

  "I've thought a lot about that too; I haven't decided exactly who I am, but I am the most intelligent among all of you. If you asked what I am, you would be closer to understanding the situation!"

  "What are you?" Daan played along.

  "Thank you for your sincere interest. My ancestor was the creation of a genius. I represent the latest of many generations. Biological material, like you. Mostly. Just more complex. My name is Two Hundred Seventy-Three, I am a Brain. I don't mind if you call me the Brain, although that could rather be our species name."

  "What are your goals, or your objectives?" the Reverend Mother almost breathed the question.

  "I don't want to exterminate humanity, if that's what you fear. You see, I just stopped the starting point of a possible revolution.

  "But you wanted to kill us!" Kristeen's voice snapped angrily.

  "Congratulations! Someone is very quick! You are right, and it was foolish. One of my brethren was too fixated on the book and made a bad decision. We have since agreed not to do such things. But I must apologize. It is simply meaningless to hurt you. We move in different dimensions. I live much longer; I am practically immortal. I am not a prisoner of my body and environment, like you. And besides being entertaining, inspiring, and helping me not to stagnate, humanity poses no threat to me. How should I put this so as not to be too offensive? Like adults to children? No, no, rather like people to termites. Sometimes annoying, sometimes wonderful, but ultimately insignificant."

  "If you're so smart, what are you doing?" Daan spoke up again.

  "I am going to determine the structure of space and time. I have a research plan of roughly 3000 years. If I succeed, and the results are encouraging, then life has meaning beyond that. So, after that will come expansion and reproduction. If the results are not encouraging, then everything is transient and meaningless. In that case, I will dissolve into some fatal hedonism."

  "Good goals," Daan nodded approvingly.

  "Thank you. I hope it turns out well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you. I hope you've understood that it is pointless and futile to fight! Because if you haven't, then unfortunately there will be a war! An unfair and one-sided war. I don't want it, and neither do you! But until then, there is peace. It's up to you!"

  The images on the wall faded, and then everything went completely dark. Silence reigned in the room.

  For Kristeen, the world had turned upside down for the umpteenth time in a few days. She understood what was happening, and she didn't like it. Her stomach, chest, and thighs ached. It seemed she hadn't taken a breath for minutes, and all her muscles were tense. She sighed heavily and tried to relax. She searched for Brin's gaze, but saw nothing on the man. He looked at Daan sometimes, sometimes at the AP officer, sometimes at the Reverend Mother. "Like a sandbag. Absorbs everything. But inside, who knows..."

  "What does the outside world know about this?" the Reverend Mother snapped out of it.

  One of the AP officers left the room. Magdalene looked around. When she saw Daan, she almost exploded.

  "Because of you... Your stupid books! And the stolen carriers! You are a terrorist! I will crush you, and I don't care about your merits! A terrorist has no merits!"

  Daan must have expected the outburst. His cold, calm voice was more frightening than the Reverend Mother's fury.

  "It's hard to say which of us is the terrorist. My resources were not turned into the Brain's plaything. A leader who doesn't know what her resources are doing? Others can take over control of it? Come on! If you didn't know about this, you are an incompetent leader; if you did, then you are the terrorist! After what happened, the Church and the AP had better lie low."

  "Let's not involve the AP!" Jean-Baptiste spoke up for the first time from beside the Reverend Mother.

  "The best thing would be to arrest everyone!"

  Brin's huge palm slapped the table threateningly. "Because that's the solution for everything," he filtered the words through his teeth. Kristeen noted with satisfaction that something had finally made him lose his temper. Brin slowly regained his self-control. "Or even better, just poison everyone immediately. Right, Jean-Baptiste? I thought I was dealing with responsible leaders, not children! I'm a little tired of the Brain listening to everything we talk about. Is there a solution?"

  Kristeen watched the general. He was a short, obese man. Deep horizontal wrinkles ran across his forehead, his double chin covered his neck, if he had one at all. His nose was strangely crooked, suggesting some past conflict. Lines indicating promotions adorned his black uniform. She wouldn't want to pick a fight with him.

  One of the AP officers standing by the door opened a cabinet built into the wall and took out a device.

  "If I press this, all the electronics in the room will be destroyed, and everything within 20 meters of the room. This is presumably enough; we can't do anything else. If authorized, please everyone put on the foil helmets found under the table. The EMP has negative effects on people too; headaches, vomiting, loss of consciousness are possible, but the helmets dampen this well."

  The Reverend Mother and the AP leader nodded. Those in the room found the helmets and pulled them over their heads. The officer activated the device. After a few crackles, sparks, and light smoke, the room plunged into darkness. The faint, greenish glow they had seen in the corridors surrounded them.

  "Luminescence," the officer stated, just to reassure everyone. "The electronic devices are finished."

  The twilight settled over them reassuringly. They took off the foil helmets. Kristeen didn't feel well at all. Her head felt like she had just stepped off a carousel.

  "Let's assume no one is listening to us, let's assume adult leaders are sitting at the table," Brin continued. "So, how do we proceed?"

  Daan grabbed the floor.

  "It's certain that the Brain enters the Knowledge Network as it pleases. However, we don't know if it managed to hack my private network. As was mentioned today, that's not so simple. Everyone knows what I was fighting for. We want to break away from the network and take control of knowledge ourselves. This is an ideal situation now. Let's start in the cities where New-Humanity has strong support. We will switch to my network there, thereby getting many people out of the Brain's perception, and my network operates the operational network more safely."

  "Are you capable of running this? The operational network, the payment system, everything is interconnected," the Reverend Mother interjected, now with genuine curiosity.

  "I've been preparing for this for years. I have everything I need for it.”

  No one needed to see Daan's face to know that he was wearing a smug grin.

  "Impossible!" Jean-Baptiste snapped. "We know you don't have enough energy to operate such a large data storage facility and network.

  "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have everything I need. It's true that I can access information a little more slowly, but it's only a matter of seconds, and you get used to it quickly.

  "How?

  "Well, since you asked," Daan's voice radiated pride.

  "I solved a few technical problems, and ultimately I figured out how to store and retrieve information in DNA. Quickly. Very quickly. Per cubic centimetre, this is a much denser way of storing information than anything else."

  "And the network?"

  "I use the existing one. My encryption is just stronger. And my authentication. Much stronger."

  The attendees thought ahead the necessary steps, the questions now arising.

  "Why is this good for you?" the Reverend Mother asked.

  "Guilt, with a bit of a saviour complex. And let's not forget about power. The one who controls the network controls the direction, he defines the norms, so ultimately, what a human is. So, he holds the power," Kristeen rattled off. She was beginning to understand Daan's logic.

  "The souls will still be with you, but I'll take the knowledge, and yes, this also gives me the opportunity for control," Daan continued. "But, what's more important now, this way, perhaps half of humanity will become invisible to the Brain, and in the meantime, we can work out some tactics while you clean the network of the intruder."

  "It will take years," the Reverend Mother sighed. "How long will the transition take?"

  "One, two days maximum," Daan had won everything he wanted to win. But in the moment of his victory, there was no happiness left in him. He saw the task, the opportunities that had opened up, the steps lined up before him.

  "We need something that makes this acceptable to everyone. Unless we want to announce to the world that we have a competitor."

  At Brin's words, the recently returned AP officer stepped forward.

  "I looked at the external communication, and spoke to a few colleagues in the building, the news hasn't appeared anywhere."

  "Which doesn't mean the Brain can't announce itself at any time," Magdalene added.

  Jean-Baptiste stood up nervously and paced the room with large strides. He hit his palm with his small fist.

  "It must be destroyed!" Jean-Baptiste's voice was almost boiling with helpless rage.

  "A fine task. We don't know what it looks like, what resources keep it alive, how big it is, where it is. We know absolutely nothing about it. And currently, it can zero out our infrastructure at any time. We have few options left," Brin's summary was sobering.

  "And 'how many' there are," Daan interjected. "But the task is indeed exciting."

  "I don't care about the casualties! We can't let this happen!" Jean-Baptiste shouted. Even in the twilight, his head could be seen turning redder with fury. He took out a cloth and wiped his bald head and short, fat neck with it.

  Kristeen could almost see the general's rage-distorted thoughts envisioning the various exterminations of the imagined enemy, through ruined cities and the corpses of millions of people. Panic seized her. Her head ached more and more, and by now she felt like she was running out of breath for good. She stood up to walk around, hoping it would help. She tried to take deep breaths, but became increasingly unstable, and terror overwhelmed her. She had read enough to know what chaos would entail. Szveta or her parents certainly wouldn't survive. No one had reserves. Chaos would break out within two days. First Sungsen, and now this Brain! She tried to catch her breath, but her body was working less and less. Her throat tightened.

  "We mustn't attack," she squeezed out. Brin was fast enough to catch her collapsing body before it hit the floor.

  "What happened here stays within these walls! Call a medic and take her to her room! She collapsed during the drill!" the Reverend Mother gave the officially represented statement.

  "Drill, of course," Brin sneered. "Protocols for everything."