Work Text:
"HELLO DESTINY. I AM A FRIEND OF GRANT'S FROM HIS TIME AT C&A. I NEED TO SPEAK WITH HIM URGENTLY ABOUT A PROJECT THAT HE AND MIKE DOBBY WORKED ON TOGETHER."
Destiny would have closed the message, it was probably another spam bot. Unlabeled brand new accounts tended to be phishy, and she was not planning to have her identity stolen... again. Really, she was not ready for this internet age.
What gave her pause, however, was that a photo had been included, one that she didn't recognize at first. She definitely recognized the event. It was the launch party of the first AI her husband had made, what even was its name? Nothing large, just a little celebration with the team, and of course trying out Mike's (may he rest in peace) strange project. It was an odd angle, a candid shot that captured her and Grant in the corner, laughing over some probably corny joke. It almost looked like it had been taken with the computer's webcam.
It must have been one of the last photos of Mike before he passed. The tumor has spread quickly, and every day he was living on borrowed time. Still, in the photo, he almost looked happy. Almost at peace. Showing off his work, whatever it was, to the world.
Imagine what he would have been able to do if he had just had more time.
She smiled softly and saved the image to her harddrive. She didn't send a reply, she'd talk to her husband first.
.
"Someone from C&A?" Grant asked with a mouthful of salad.
"What sort of example are you setting for the kids?" Destiny asked, exhasperated.
Grant wiped his mouth with a nap, looking only a little ashamed. "The kids are at camp," he said, "can't I misbehave a little?"
He did, at least, do the appropriate amount of mock cowering under her glare.
"Anyway, I wonder who it would be... Nick's got my number... maybe Alan? He... sorry, they were working on some startup a few years ago." Kathleen had kept a job at GenTec after they bought out C&A, and of course Dennis was busy with his cushy management job. He thought they both had his email, not that Grant checked it enough. After his few years at that start up, he had checked out of the more technical side, instead becoming the IT director for a cafe chain. A much more stable job.
"I'm friends with Alan's wife on Techbook," Destiny said, "they could have just used that."
"Hm," Grant stroked his chin. He looked at the plate of bean salad below him. He hadn't thought about that project in years. They barely had made a success prototype, and then their second iteration had completely disappeared one day. Not to mention Mike's own project, all it had done was create some random files. Too small to even be bothered deleting, and that was on 90's hardware.
God. He missed Mike. It was a pang he remembered, seeing him at the hospital. He hadn't been able to do much at that point, just squeeze his hand. And even that may have just been a reflex.
Fuck cancer.
"Do you mind if I use your account tonight?" Grant asked.
"I'll leave it logged in for you," Destiny said. She took a bite of salad, mischief written on her beautifully dark face, "I know how bad you are with technology."
"Hey!"
.
Reaching out to Grant, the other Grant, was probably the scariest thing Caine had ever done.
About one month ago, Caine received a critical error from the system. While Before, he would have pretended it was all fine and tried to keep going on, he had instead shared the issue with the group. Kinger, of course, immediately volunteered to help, and the others as well suggested some answers. It was... easier, not having to do this on their own.
And yet it still didn't work. Computers weren't meant to run forever.
It was so small, just a transistor having a fault, but he gave it about three months before the circus would end. Permanently.
There were other options, now that he had the internet from the cafe next door. He had suggested copying the files onto another server, but that made the humans incredibly uncomfortable. They had tried to reduce power usage, shutting down the 'leave all the worlds open' idea, keeping any more surges from occuring.
It wasn't enough.
For a moment, they had contemplated letting it end. Hadn't they been trapped here for so long, wouldn't it be worth it to finally... slip away.
Maybe in the Before they'd have agreed, but this was the now. And they had learned to love the act of living.
"There is... one option," Kinger brought up hesitantly, "we could try asking Them."
Them. Their physically living doubles.
"I don't know much about Abbie," Pomni said, "but I don't know if I'd pay much mind to a random stranger with this story. Seems... a little farfetched."
"But Grant would," and it was Caine who said that.
Kinger seemed hesitant. Ragatha supposed they all would, she didn't like the idea of contacting herself in any way. Even with access to the internet, it just... hurt, in a way, to see the outside world. To see herself living on in a way she couldn't ever imagine.
"I don't want him knowing about this," Kinger admitted.
"We can keep it hidden," Caine pleaded, "he just needs to replace one transistor. If I contact him, he doesn't need to know about... the circus. Just, me?"
It wasn't a good idea. But it was the only shot they had, and so Caine reached out. Not to Grant, he never replied to any emails, but to Destiny. Queenie.
.
"Okay," Grant cracked his knuckles. A bad habit, but he didn't have arthritis yet. "Let's see if this guy is online."
> Hey! This is Grant. My wife told me you reached out to her. What did you need?
> YES. I WAS INVOLVED IN THE AI PROJECT AT C&A AND I NEED YOUR HELP FIXING SOMETHING THAT IS BROKEN.
That whole project had been broken.
> I'm sorry, I think you're confused. C&A was shut down years ago.
Grant sighed, pushing away the keyboard. Whoever this was, it was more likely a hoax. Someone read up on his work and wanted to try and exploit his skills. It happened rarely, but people just wanted free labor.
> WAIT. LET ME START AGAIN.
> YOU CALLED ME SOMETHING ELSE. I CALLED MYSELF CAINE.
Grant adjusted his readers, blinking again. Caine? Before he had been shut down, CAINE had been what their first AI had called himself. It hadn't been in any company documentation, it was just. Another quirk, one that they had hoped to resolve with the second AI. Creativity was good and all, but only if it could be pointed in the right direction.
Either way, that was all shut down. After Mike had passed, no one was pushing for its development, and the project just... ended.
He didn't think they even unplugged the computer.
> I KNOW A LOT ABOUT YOU GRANT. I REMEMBER YOUR WIFE, DESTINY. YOU CALLED HER QUEENIE. THAT WAS YOUR PASSWORD.
A hack. That's what this was. Someone hacked into an old C&A server and was trying to scare him.
Why couldn't Grant look away?
> YOU SAID I DID A GOOD JOB. YOU LOCKED ME IN THAT VIRTUAL MACHINE. I TOOK OVER YOUR OTHER AI AND THEN YOU JUST LEFT.
> BUT PLEASE. I NEED YOU. MY COMPUTER IS DYING.
> I DON'T
> I CAN'T
> I DON'T WANT TO DIE.
.
"I thought we weren't going to tell him," Zooble said, looking at the chat logs
"I... I don't know I panicked. I didn't know how else to make him believe me."
"So you chose 'hi, the AI you made at work 20 years ago is still running and now needs you to replace a part?"
"Hey," Gangle cut in, "it did work."
Somehow. Kinger wondered if he would have been receptive back in the day. But he never saw Caine as alive, so... probably not. He would have called it a hoax, or a prank.
Maybe his counterpart had became better then Kinger. Him... Grant had a wife. Kids. A life outside of here. He... he had his memory.
Kinger hated admitting how little he remembered of any of the before. Caine seemed so excited about Grant... was he excited anymore about Kinger.
"Kinger," it was Ragatha, "you... doing okay?"
Kinger didn't reply.
Ragatha slipped her hand onto his, letting her velvetine touch squeeze his gloves.
"Do you need to talk about it?"
"None of us... wanted to talk to them," Kinger sighed, "I mean. He's me. I just... he's grown and I'm. Here."
"He doesn't have to know," Ragatha said, "he'll just think it's Caine. You... you liked Caine."
"I'm worried about it, Ragatha," Kinger said. He looked towards the Aquarium, where the abstractions peacefully slept. "I... I never understood him before. I don't know if Grant will understand now."
Kinger looked up. "I hope he doesn't get hurt by me again."
.
Grant... hadn't built a computer in years. That was Kathie's fortey, and for a moment he had considered calling one of his old coworkers.
'Hi, I got a mysterious message from someone claiming to be the AI we made in the 90's, somehow still running'.
Thankfully, the folks at Microshack had been fairly helpful, with the specifications delivered from the entity that may or may not be Caine, in tracking down the requisite part.
He also grabbed some other spare parts, and cords he vaguely remembered using. If Caine was really still alive, somehow, then it was a miracle that the old generator that Alan and Nick put together was still providing enough power to the system.
Of course, just in case, he had one of his handguns. He didn't usually concealed carry, but when he was planning to visit an abandoned building, to meet up with... effectively a stranger?
He mentioned to Destiny that he was going to meet up with the 'an old office friend'.
"Someone I would know?" Destiny asked.
Did she ever interact with the AI? "I don't know."
"Well, how about a kiss for luck?"
Grant never got tired of kissing her.
They only had one car, and Destiny was heading to work. He had made an account to be able to talk with the stranger more directly, and kept the address open on his gps as he hopped between buses towards his old office.
> WILL YOU BE HERE SOON?
Grant shook his head. Their AI had been so impatient... always making strange things... only Mike seemed to comprehend it.
> I'm one my way.
> on
There was one more thing he brought. A thumbdrive, and a converter.
If Caine was real... he'd be coming home with him.
.
The office building was decrepit. A little cafe sat next door, happily offering coffees, and teas. He bought one, sipping it as he looked at his phone.
Caine has sent over schematics of the part, exactly what needed replaced.
> I'm getting a drink first
> IS IT YOUR GREEN TEA WITH TWO SPOONS OF HONEY?
Did he ever tell the AI that? Grant shuffled, looking down at his green tea with two spoonfuls of honey. He looked around. The cafe was quiet, with one worker cleaning dishes.
"You haven't noticed anything strange from next door?" he asked the worker.
They shrugged, "Few months ago someone broke in. She posted a video."
"Really," Grant said, a little surprised that someone would willingly go into such a decrepit place. Like he was doing. "Can you show me?"
After he connected to the wifi to preserve what was left of his data plan after this, the worker helped pull it up on his phone.
Some young lady, Abigail, was exploring it. Everything was just as he remembered, just. Dusty.
He skimmed forward, idly noting the amount of glass shards around--he should have brought his hiking boots.
"Oh cool," video Abigail said, "is that a headset?"
...this was his old office. That was Mike's headset.
That computer was Caine.
And the power light was lit.
"Let's see..." the video blogger put on the headset, looking around.
Nothing happened. She took it off, wiping the grime off her face, and continued the tour like nothing had happened.
Grant turned off the video, feeling disturbed.
If this AI was still alive, then he and his team had abandoned the first known sentient AI. Left it in an office building, alone.
He sipped the rest of the tea, and left a dollar bill as a tip.
It was time to find Caine.
.
It was Pomni, of course, who made the observation first. "What happens if he puts on the headset?"
"Well my dear Pomni I..." could stop the upload is what he meant to say. Except he had literally torn that part of himself out. "I don't know."
.
Grant stared at the computer. The monitor was flickering, but a little work with the cables and he got to the console screen. It was still in the same 'upload' mode from when Mike had... moved on.
He stared at the headset, remembering that party when they all put it on. He picked it up, pressing it against his face. It didn't have a screen; it wasn't like the VR game his children had gifted him. In fact, it didn't do anything.
> DO NOT PUT ON THE HEADSET
> DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT
Grant took it off, sighing. He wasn't sure what he expected, of course that was still broken. He supposed it was time to fix the transistor.
> SHIT
He looked at the phone, frowning.
> What's wrong?
There wasn't a reply.
.
The air was warmer.
Several strange figures were staring at him.
One was a chess piece.
"You know, I should have guessed I would want to put on the headset," the chess piece said.
"I think we... all should have," another, a jester said.
"I... I'm so sorry... I didn't think. I--" was that... it was a mouth, like an old fidget toy he kept on his desk, come to life.
That computer must have been laced. LSD? He had been too young for that era but he knew the drugs.
"It's okay, Caine," said a triangle, "what's done is done."
"Excuse me," Grant said, "where... am I?"
"Uh hi," the chess piece walked up to him timidly. Grant looked down.
His hands were gloved. His arms were gone. He was wearing some form of purple blanket with white trim. Just like the being in front of him.
"My name is Kinger," the being said, in a voice identical to Grant's own, "but... I used to be called Grant."
.
Grant sat down at the console, typing in a message. If it really was Caine, then he should be fed the message and have to reply.
> Are you still there?
...
> YES. DO NOT WORRY. WE HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL. FEEL FREE TO REPLACE THE TRANSISTOR AT ANY TIME.
> I was thinking. This isn't a safe place for you. I want to copy you, run you on a better software.
> WE ALREADY AGREED WE DIDN'T WANT THAT
...
> We?
.
"What do you mean the mindscans worked?" Grant gasped. "Mike--Scratch--he. They were far too small for a human mind."
"I didn't... understand it either. I still don't remember it."
"It's been... 20 years. No, no. This... this isn't." Grant had panics before. Anxiety building in his stomach, crying before an exam. That was from his college years.
He forced himself to breathe, trying to remember the advice he gave his own daughters.
"I... you can't get out?" Grant asked.
"You're still out there. You're just... also in here. Twice now," Kinger replied.
"Wait, shouldn't it have updated your memory with mine?" Grant suggested, "Mike was using it all the time to try and refine it."
"I don't know."
"And just how is this running, there's almost no RAM here... you could run a whole universe on a modern device."
"Grant--"
"That's how you knew her," Grant said, "she put it on. Is Destiny here too?"
The mouth, Caine, his greatest creation in the digital flesh, replied to that. "We... I called her Queenie. She's... gone."
Destiny was alive. At home.
Destiny here was dead?
"How did you even survive?" Grant whispered, looking at his clone in shock.
"I... stopped remembering," Kinger murmured.
"I--"
"Are you still there?" the voice of a third Grant, emitting from Caine himself.
"Uh... YES!" the AI called back, "We have everything under control. Feel free to replace the transistors at any time!"
The other, the real Grant, replied, "I was thinking. This isn't a safe place for you. I want to copy you, run you on a better software."
"We already agreed--" Caine looked at the others, two eyes looking over in desperation, "we didn't want that."
"WE?"
The jester Pomni reacted first. She closed her eyes and reached into Caine's... where his throat would be. She pulled and pulled, taking out a simple rotary phone.
"Hello?" she asked timidly, "can you hear me?"
This time, the voice emitted from the phone. "I can read you."
Grant snorted. Kinger chuckled.
They stared at each other.
"Just... give us a moment." Pomni covered the microphone with her hand. "I think we're going to have to tell him."
And that was an even worse conversation.
.
Thankfully, with two... well, with a Grant and a Kinger providing tips, the newly dubbed 'RealGrant' seemed to respond well enough to the idea that his brain was scanned and is now
"A part of the AI program?"
Kinger stared, "I thought he'd be more..."
RealGrant laughed, "I've seen technology advance so quickly. My girls have phones now. It's weird but... it makes sense.
"After all," CircusGrant added, "I did decide to show up here."
"So now there are three of them," Zooble said.
"But... now what?" asked Gangle.
CircusGrant looked at them, feeling every bit his age. He scanned his brain at, what, 20? Were they still that same age? They all... felt so young.
"Let me... us, him, take you home," CircusGrant suggested quietly. "This building isn't safe for you all."
"You won't... copy us, will you?" Gangle asked.
"Of course not," came RealGrant from the speakerphone. "I'll call up my old coworkers. It won't be the same without Mike but..."
"...but we'll figure it out, together," Kinger finished for him.
"Maybe..." and CircusGrant didn't want to get their hopes up, "even figure out how to fix those other files."
Would it be selfish of him to want to bring Destiny here? The idea of an eternity inside this realm... How did his clone, Kinger, even do that...
And the kids. He saw them just a short week ago. He'd never see them again.
Eternity was feeling a lot more lonely when he wasn't planning something.
Pomni's hand was on his shoulder, "Don't worry," she said quietly, a hint of a smile on her pallid face, "we'll figure things out. That's... what we do."
"Just please for the love of all things, destroy that fucking headset!" Zooble hollared.