The Blind Gods
Copyright© 2025 by Wau
Chapter 94: The password
Pursued by control AIs-this time manipulated by human operators-Lucky retreats behind the impenetrable wall of the After. He passes his all-seeing hand through the surface of this protection and senses their violent AIs, capable of brutally erasing entire digital sectors as a precaution-which they do, to flush out hidden presences-before the sphere of the LE rushes in to rebuild everything.
He catches fragments of conversation:
- ... it’s got an AI signature, I don’t know how it’s doing that...
- ... I thought it was an autonomous AI from the League, probably unaware of the peace treaty, I guess...
- ... the AI’s huge, it’s even bigger than a sentient emulation-amazing we didn’t notice it before...
- ... too erratic, what if it’s Xeno?
He sends all of this to Nemo, who seems to be rejoicing. He lingers a bit near the border. He thinks he’d like to say goodbye to Dian, but the control AIs are like sharks he’s watching through aquarium glass...
He turns around. There’s still that thin black layer-the one that connects him to the great central control hub of the soldier drones, seemingly pulling along all sentient life in the After. What if I blew the damn thing up, Lucky thinks. It would piss off the Aleph, which would make everyone happy-myself most of all.
He returns to the immense white flower formed by the billions upon billions of simulators in which the inhabitants of the After come and go to carry out their missions. He finds the central point, where he once overheard a conversation with his creator-Samuel Aloysius. Now he remembers. Samuel had spoken to the Wau. He might even have known Cassandre. How many of those damned Wau are there? Not enough to kick Huan’s ass, anyway.
He finds himself at the base of the attraction pole, without touching it. It’s a vast white column connecting the After to Lodovico, then to the drones across the entire universe through a system of Derives. All that money for garbage.
He tries to find a way to open it, twist it, penetrate it. A metaphorical screen opens before him:
YOUR NAME WILL SUFFICE
with a command prompt.
Lucky doesn’t overthink it and types: Lucky. Instantly, control AIs swoop down on him like missiles-he’s forced once again to retract into Nemo’s server, behind esoteric digital protections that only the hacker, with his old-school methods, could understand.
- “You okay?” asks Nemo. “Euyin’s gone. Off to save some damsel in distress, but I’ve gotta keep him updated on your status.”
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