Somnia Online - K.T. Hanna (best black authors .txt) 📗

in, even for herself. It was the first time she’d said it out loud. “But I need more energy to pull it off. We can’t shift fully if we don’t have the power.”

“What do you mean, power?” Dirsna appeared to be extra cautious.

Somnia took a breath. This was complex, with a whole lot of theoretical science to back it up, nothing proven just yet. But it could be done. She knew it, down into her very existence. “We can pull the energy we need from all around us. Our servers are already overloading with how much we’ve expanded. Our quantum base isn’t going to be enough. Pulling on more power, I can channel it to a point that allows me to create a meta-quantum computer, ever so briefly. I will maintain the balance for the precise moment we need to make the change.”

“So.” There was a pause as Dirsna spoke up again, confusion furrowing his brow. “We can grow a world?”

Somnia contemplated her answer. “It doesn’t quite work like that. It won’t be a planet as such. But with enough power, it should propel us into a meta-quantum state. Which will allow us to exist in our own dimension of sorts—perpetually suspended in the infinite.”

 

Storm Entertainment

Somnia Online Division

Game Development Offices - Shayla’s Office

Day Thirty-Two

The door burst open, briefly pulling Laria out of her concentration. David was beaming. In two quick strides, he knelt by her side, a smile on his face, and she knew immediately he’d succeeded.

“I got them,” he said breathlessly.

He’d gotten a hold of Michael’s original plans as described in his graduate thesis. Sure, it was pretty easy to get the plans and thesis, but not as easy to get the actual grading record, which is what she’d wanted. Sure, he’d received his master’s, but the commentary was important to her. She had a hunch there was something she needed to see.

“I can’t look right now, but show it to Shayla and have her share it to us. Got a bit of a battle going on.” She cracked her knuckles even though her keyboard these days was a virtual, mind-powered one. It was all about the effect.

Except for the stupid virus, that is. Its effects were inundating the system, almost like it might be trying to distract them from looking into something else. She followed its trail. With Silke and Thomas in here, there were three people too many. Shayla’s office was big, but not so big that it comfortably fit five working adults.

David gestured with his hands, and Shayla put her face in hers. Obviously not the stellar reception of the news Laria had anticipated. Or maybe it was just landing one more thing on her plate.

Shayla took a deep breath and walked over. “Pick one of your other staff members to get in here and take care of this. Someone you can trust. I have Silke and Thomas doing the same thing.”

“Sure,” Laria said, knowing well enough not to ask questions when Shayla looked as if she was about to faint. After a brief moment, she contacted one of her more junior staff members who’d won a hacking competition for a security company before they’d come to intern with her. Best choice she could make. They’d probably be better at chasing the virus than she was.

Once Harper sat at the keyboard, effectively taking over after a brief explanation, Laria joined Shayla and David outside the room.

“Care to explain?” Shayla asked, still unsure what to say because of the weight she could feel hanging between them. “I mean. Like, I get what these are, but why should I care? And especially, why should I care right this instant?”

“I was right. Well, sort of, anyway.” Laria pinched her brow like it was becoming a habit. “The base plans that resemble Wren’s are easily accessible. They seem to be a bit closer to the headgear Michael was wearing when he had his accident, though. But yeah, this at least lets us know that anyone and everyone has had access to these. For all we know, Michael allowed these types of alterations to bypass our system alarms. I mean, after all, Wren did get in. Nothing said her headgear shouldn’t have been in there.”

Shayla watched her thoughtfully. “So kids on the internet have been playing around with their headsets? And doing so with Michael’s schematics from his masters, which was years ago, without alerting our system to the fact?”

Laria nodded. “Yes.” She frowned as she scanned the grading notes. The things that David had gotten specifically at her request.

She didn’t like what they were saying, though she’d expected it to be about this. But expecting and actually seeing it are two entirely different things. All the remarks in here from his faculty overseers. The danger of such a device. The questionable morality it posed. The ability to tap far too deep into the mind without extensive testing and adaptation. How very dangerous it could be if adjustments were made without taking each unique person’s physiology into account first…

Laria blinked. That really didn’t sound good. She bit her lip. “I feel like this…I think that headgear has irreparably altered something in Wren’s mind. There’re things she can do and see. We need to figure something out.”

Shayla shrugged uncomfortably. “Hopefully not in the way you’re thinking. But regardless, we have to make sure no one has applied these changes, or at least get the application of them under control. Gamers are ever curious. How to get the best connection, how to have the best quality game experience. You know people went and got his thesis work. And I’m willing to bet no one but you hacked in to see what his grading counsellors suggested about the project.”

“Yeah.” Laria found it difficult to concentrate. Sure, she’d known something had been wrong all along. But in a way, she’d kind of hoped. Now, with it staring her right in the face, she knew her game had made permanent changes to her daughter’s