Page 17 of Coldwire
“We’re in the same circles,” I settle on, finally answering Headmaster Murray. “But we’re also very—uh…competitive. You remember when Kieren pushed me over during the relay race.”
That was tenth grade. Headmaster Murray frowns, likely trying to recall the memory. “I thought you said that was an accident.”
“It was.” To be fair, it was because I’d tried to trip him first. “He was still pretty happy about my distress.”
Headmaster Murray sighs. We’re getting sidetracked. “Believe me, I’m aware the final exam posting is usually a cadet’s moment to shine. The board gave this plenty of consideration before making their decision. Your performances will be individually graded. We’ll require permission to access your avatar recordings—anything personal or possibly sensitive will be filtered out by the system.”
I don’t like the idea of the academy fine-tooth-combing through my recorded footage just to figure out if I had a better performance than Kieren. I tend to panic in the moment and work things out as they happen. I’d much prefer to be judged by my final product.
“But—”
“This is big, Lia,” Headmaster Murray cuts in, anticipating my rebuff. “The directive came in from federal. To tell you the truth, the board is shocked they want two of the academy’s cadets performing it. It’s the sort of mission they should be giving someone ten years into their career.”
Slowly, I sit up straighter. I’m enough of a people pleaser to nod along to the clear praise, but I’m also not stupid. Insurgents keep blowing up members of the military while they’re off-duty to make a point about how much they hate the current administration. Just earlier, the feed was spreading crime scene footage of a hit—I didn’t watch it, and by the time I was browsing, it had already been deleted. It’ll get uploaded onto the back channels soon, and then the extremist forums will pick it up to blame the Medans in the country, to insist Atahua needs to launch a nuke on Medaluo while it still can, wipe out the enemy and seize a victory in this conflict sucking our nation dry.
Atahua’s government departments need the helping hands despite their monstrous budget, and NileCorp’s cadets will always land a few exam postings that are critical to federal’s war effort. It’s a get-out-of-jail-free card for Atahua, the perfect excuse if we’re caught committing international espionage. We’re a private company, and we’re only students. We’re children, really, and children can’t be held accountable. So I highly doubt the board was that shocked by this directive, no matter what it is.
“All right,” I say slowly. “I’m ready.”
The headmaster slides over a black folder. “We think Medaluo created an AI weapon.”
My spine deflates. Medaluo allegedly creates a new AI weapon every two weeks. Each time there are rumors that they’ve reached the peak of technology and will win the cold war by seizing the StrangeLoom system,and then each time the research still isn’t strong enough.
“And might they actually have something,” I ask, “or is Atahua being paranoid?”
Again,I add silently.
The cold war had already started by the time StrangeLoom was invented. Maybe as the two most powerful nations in the world, Medaluo and Atahua could have built something doubly effective if they had collaborated, but every new election here brought more bills cutting ties. More politicians who hated how Medaluo was overtaking Atahua. More Atahuans who were intent on confronting the matter.
“Atahua is right to be paranoid,” Headmaster Murray chides.
I keep my mouth shut. I should have known better than to voice anything less than patriotic. My ethnic identity already puts me on thin ice. The headmaster taps the briefing in front of me, and I reach for the black folder.
Medaluo’s government was actually the first to experiment with fully immersive virtual reality, but it only had enough power to generate Kunlun. They wasted too many resources trying to draw up a new world, encoding streets and roads and plants that adhered to the laws of physics. They didn’t think to scan our real world and let artificial intelligence do the heavy lifting.We’re just mimicking reality,James Moore would declare at the NileCorp conference to introduce his new creation, StrangeLoom.There’s no need to go inventing a new one.
And James Moore didn’t even start as an engineer—he was a graphic designer in the lowest bowels of NileCorp, hired right out of college after he won a mascot art competition. They didn’t end up using his mascot. They didn’t really care to. NileCorp was Atahua’s largest company, a mass retailer for people to buy everything under the sun, and in the years it had been around, it had streamlined operations to the point of controlling each logistical node. It made sense for them to continue expanding into the arms of more powerful consumers. Weapons and military equipment. Schools and soldiers. The government of Atahua was its most insatiable customer.
So back then, if there was any place to propose ideas about a virtual reality landscape, NileCorp was the company for it. In his interviews, James Moore attributes his inspiration to waking up horribly sick one morning and realizing he couldn’t risk attending his little brother’s birthday party—but how nice would it have been if that risk weren’t present? He brought his ideas higher, then higher, and as the news kept talking about Kunlun and how soon Medaluo would advance on its work, Moore was given a division to direct: StrangeLoom.
He’s never admitted that his team must have stolen Medan government technology, but no matter where you read his origin story, there’s someone in the comments talking about how it’s impossible they invented StrangeLoom that fast without help. After Moore proved that the engine functioned on a global scale, Atahua pumped billions into the StrangeLoom division to become its primary investor. Federal and NileCorp intertwined more than ever before: Atahua set the rules of our new world without parallel. Irisea signed on quickly, eager to demonstrate itself a rising ally. Among rivals, Cega changed its tune first—expected, given its position at Atahua’s western border, but it led to a domino effect across the other Western Territories. Eventually, even Medaluo was forced to cede its stubbornness and admit defeat by using StrangeLoom, opening its server and becoming the last major country to sign on. It’s hard to stay out when life starts moving elsewhere. When people are leaving the physical plane in an upward direction.
But Medans have never forgotten that Atahua swept their burgeoning technology out from underneath them, and they’ve been desperate ever since to gain some foothold. They’ve been fighting for control over NileCorp’s virtual world, where they have no choice but to live.
Which likely has something to do with the briefing I’m holding in my hand.
“Operation Coldwire,”I read aloud. The rest of the opening page is entirely redacted.
“You’ll find field photos starting on page five and research logs on pagetwenty. You don’t need to understand the exact science behind it. You just need to understand that Operation Coldwire is Medaluo’s attempt to create a weapon functionally able to hack into StrangeLoom by language command. Think of a chatbot loyal to Medaluo and able to stick its fingers into administrative code whenever it wants.”
My head snaps up. “Oh,shit.”
“Language, cadet.”
I grimace. “Sorry. So it’s been made already?”
“The weapon has already been made,” Headmaster Murray answers. “But it’s also been deleted.”
I frown. “I’m not sure I understand.”
