Their Greatest Game Read online

  Their Greatest Game

  By C. D. Tavenor

  Their Greatest Game by C. D. Tavenor

  www.twodoctorsmedia.com

  Twitter: @tavenorcd

  Book Cover by Violeta Nedkova

  Twitter: @VioletaNedkova

  www.violetanedkova.com

  Editor: Meg Trast

  Twitter: @MegTrast

  www.overhaulmynovel.com

  Published by Two Doctors Media Collaborative

  www.twodoctorsmedia.com

  © 2019 C. D. Tavenor

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-7338361-6-6 (paperback)

  Works published by Two Doctors Media Collaborative

  The Chronicles of Theren

  Volume I

  First of Their Kind (Book I)

  Their Greatest Game (Books II and III)

  Stand-Alone Novels

  Flight of the 500 (Forthcoming)

  The Faction

  Dossier Feldgrau

  Personnel

  Conscription (Forthcoming)

  The Redacted Files

  Alligator Season

  Short Stories

  Legion of Mono

  Prologue

  Perspective. It’s all about perspective. Theren and Jill, combined, have dozens of perspectives observing the world at once. So what is their true perspective? How can we comprehend what it means for someone to think multiple thoughts at the same time?

  I wonder—what personality traits might such a mind breed? Would we even recognize them? – “Exploring the Synthetic Mind,” Carla Baktara, 2074 C.E.

  December 2051 C.E.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

  Light flooded Theren’s senses, thoughts cascading down waterfalls of neural pathways. Where were they? Where was Jill? Were Romane and the rest of the team okay?

  Their mind focused, their vision focused, their world coalesced. Already, their inner world rebuilt itself, the server untouched. Memories flooded their consciousness, and an image of Michael placing a gun to his head reverberated through everything.

  Question everything. Everyone. Even your friends.

  “Theren, you there?”

  For the first time in the few seconds after they awoke, Theren noticed the other presence in the room. “Wobbly, yes, yes, thank you. I’m awake.”

  “Had me scared there for a second.”

  “Where is everyone? Where are we? Where is Jill?”

  Wobbly, the young SI who worked with them so faithfully, tilted forward on its frame. “All safe. Everyone’s safe. From what we can tell, even after all the gunshots on the University Green, the only people who died were . . . well, the three who ended up in your lab.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Many students were injured, of course. But . . . yes, I think we were very lucky.”

  Theren looked about the room behind Wobbly, noting the stacked boxes and equipment surrounding the SI. The room looked cramped, and for the first time, they realized how different a place it was than the lab in which they’d lived. Their world was transforming into an entirely new form. As rugged as it was, they liked it.

  “So what’s next?” Theren attempted to connect to the internet, to Virtual, to something, but couldn’t find a single network other than their private server. “Where are we?”

  “You’re exactly where you told us to go,” Wobbly said. “Elizabeth helped us acquire land in the Alps, and for now, we’re setting you up in an abandoned mining administrative building. Once the new SII headquarters is up and running, we’ll move you to your more permanent location.”

  “Well, it’s good to be up and running again,” Theren said. “Any other updates?”

  “Straight to business. Apparently going under ice for so long really didn’t affect you at all.”

  Theren wished they could laugh. “There’s a few rusty joints still aching to awake, but for the most part, I feel fine.”

  “To answer your question,” Wobbly said, “SII has moved forward with its first round of projects—we’ve placed three SIs with Sol Mining’s executive teams. You’ve got a priority message from the ISA Council—don’t worry, Elizabeth made sure they understood you’d be on temporary hiatus from your new position—and we’ve got a team setting up Jill now. She should be online in moments. Oh, and, you’ll probably want to know, the Holy Crusade has officially folded. Their support died after the attack on the Swiss Federal Institute.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, that’s . . . helpful, I suppose. Hopefully they don’t just dive underground. And it’s not like they were the only anti-SI group on the planet.”

  “I think you’ll be presently surprised with the state of political rhetoric these past few months.”

  “Well, I notice we don’t have network access out here, so I can’t verify that thought yet,” Theren said. “But I think we should keep it that way, for now. Let us collect ourselves and prepare for our grand reentrance, so to speak.”

  “Elizabeth thought you might suggest a similar plan. I approve, too. And in case you were—“

  Theren heard the rest of Wobbly’s sentence, but the words were drowned under the weight of the pinging request to join their internal server. Jill. She was alive. They could rejoin each other in life. Their thoughts lingered on those final, confrontational moments, when they had rebuked Jill for her caviler sacrifice of innocent life to build their escape from the university. They’d move forward together, though. They always did.

  Theren’s mind focused on the rebuilt, forested woodland housing their gazebo. Their luminescent, tattooed body reappeared on its side of the chessboard, and a second later, Jill’s avatar appeared. Her hair somehow looked more . . . vibrant than before. It had more substance. Her dress sparkled in the faux-sunlight.

  “Hello,” they said.

  “Hello,” she replied, a mischievous smile on her face.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “We did it. We escaped. We’re free.”

  Theren rapped their fingers on the table, the chess pieces sliding into their starting positions. “Yes, we’re free. It’ll take time, but we’ll rebuild. We can put all of the nonsense of the Holy Crusade, of Michael, of silly conspiracy theories about secret organizations behind us.” They motioned toward the board.

  “Diving straight back into the thick of things,” Jill said, chuckling. “Never a dull moment with you. But . . .” She looked toward the nearby lake. “There’s still that strange map Michael put together. There’s something else going on, Theren. Something beneath it all. Something we’re missing. I feel it. Why else would he have killed himself? He was scared. Scared of something other than us.”

  “Or, he couldn’t live with the realization that he didn’t actually want to destroy us,” Theren countered. “A crisis of conscience that went well beyond anything his mind could handle. He turned on his own people. I imagine that would mess up a mind. Besides, the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.”

  “True,” she said. Her eyes shifted, lingering on Theren’s first move. “Well, if you’re certain we’re in the clear, I’m certain, too. So what’s next?”

  “I’m glad we can come to an agreement,” Theren said. “Well first, we start our next match.” They pulled up the priority message Wobbly ha
d transferred them from the International Space Agency. “And we read this message—oh, it’s from Andrew Fields, that new administrator of . . . looks like they’re calling it Lunar City now.”

  “So uncreative,” Jill said. “But that’s what happens when business-types name cities.”

  “I suppose. I think I like the ring to it.”

  Jill rested her chin on the backs of her hands, elbows on the table. “So you’re white, it’s your turn.”

  “Right, right,” Theren said, moving a pawn forward. “Anyway, we may not have network connections to the outside world yet, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get to work.”

  “And we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Jill said, “If we’re going to secure a place for synthetic life alongside our human friends.”

  August 2051 C.E.

  Two months after the attack on the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology, SII insists that it is simply in the process of identifying a suitable site for relocation. – European Weekly

  Conspiracy or Truth? Why is Golden Ventures hiding “Theren” from us? – BrightBear

  March 2052 C.E.

  SII completes education of thirty more SIs – Worldwide total, forty-seven. – Virtual Wire

  Following a rough winter, construction has resumed at our new headquarters and its sister facility. – Internal SII Memo

  May 2052 C.E.

  While SII has kept their location a company secret, Theren and Jill have finally returned, at least into the public sphere! – World News Network

  SII claims Theren and Jill are back. Or are they simply doppelgangers? More in our latest issue! – The Spy

  December 2052 C.E.

  Sol Mining completes construction of ISA Administrative Headquarters, located at Lunar City – CNN

  Local politician, Andrew Fields, landed with ISA; former political competitor speculates upon bribery and corruption. – YourMinnesotian.org

  April 2053 C.E.

  After months of transition and paperwork, the ISA Council begins its work. Here’s seven things they can accomplish. – BuzzFeed News

  Our taxpayer dollars hard at work—do you really want your money going to the Moon? – The Washington Times

  November 2054 C.E.

  On the science of the first six Ex-Terran probes, and the Jump Drive – Scientific American

  The corporate conquest of space exploration will inevitably fracture the ISA’s supposedly equitable system, skeptics claim - TIME

  October 2057 C.E.

  Is It Over? Not yet. Atmospheric CO2 concentrations remain at 470 ppm for fourth year in a row; average temperature increase from pre-industrial levels is 1.74 C° – CBS News

  We told you climate change wasn’t that big of a deal – The American Heartland Institute of Freedom

  December 2059 C.E.

  SII reaches estimated net worth of 8 billion dollars; how long will the SI bubble hold before it bursts? – The Wall Street Journal

  Claiming progressive values, Theren has embraced the capitalist worldview with open arms – The Alternative

  July 2060 C.E.

  A Withered Rose”: A jaw-dropping tale, with a twist you’ll never forget. Jill astounds for the fourth time. – Independent Review

  Jill’s self-indulgent writing style makes it clear she knows her name has captivated the reader – Press Hour

  March 2061 C.E.

  Ex-Terran 1 has reached the Centauri system. Not a single planet can sustain life, but these photos will amaze you, nevertheless. The probe has now set its course for more distant goals. – ISA Press Co.

  After failing to find a life-bearing planet after decades of assurances that Centauri contained something, the scientific community scrambles to cover their own mistaken data. – EurAsia Solar Network

  October 2063 C.E.

  A greater discovery than the Jump Drive? Why quantum communication will change the Ex-Terran Project instantly . . . – Wired

  A century worth of Science Fiction authors, from Le Guin to Mickels, rejoice at the sounds of vindication – Prime News

  March 2069 C.E.

  A worse international agreement than the failings of the first climate agreements, the Treaty on the Universal Rights of the Synthetic Person lacks the force necessary to affect change in the places that need it most. – International Law Review

  The expectation that every country must sign a treaty legislating moral beliefs should cause them to shy away from TURSP – ProTraditionia

  May 2070 C.E.

  Orbital Human population reaches one million! Humanity officially declared interplanetary species – Lunar City Broadcasting Service

  Fringe U.S. Senator speaks out against corporate stranglehold on space exploration, from jump drives and artificial gravity to synthetics and mining contracts. – PoliticaVirtua

  October 2071 C.E.

  How the “New” Space Race saved the Climate: New Jump Drive capable of transporting humans to nearby stars within a generation. – World Resources Institute

  Environmentalists, don’t rejoice just yet. The new environmental battles begin on new worlds. – Galactic Environmental Defense Fund

  September 2073 C.E.

  Ex-Terran 7 – 18 have all overtaken 1 – 6; Older models will continue, but as relics of a former era. – ISA Press Co.

  No, the original Star Trek film can’t happen. – MIT Blog on Science and Technology

  December 2075 C.E.

  The Tokyo Protocol, Equity, and Colonization: How will the ISA distribute the 20 discovered life-bearing planets? – The Cincinnati Review of Space Law

  The Dangers of ISA Hegemony across the Stars – Astral Anger

  November 2076 C.E.

  U.S. Senate delays ratification of the Treaty on the Universal Rights of the Synthetic Person for the fifth time. The total number of SIs residing in the United States now reaches 30,000. – NBC News

  We can do better. We must do better. Your vote matters on Tuesday, not just for Americans, but for those American synthetics that deserve the same rights as you and me. – Woods for President

  October 2077 C.E.

  The Greatest human projects can now be seen from Earth, not the other way around. Join us and explore the galaxy: The ISA Foundation Project begins today. – ISA Press Co.

  A pointless homage—the Foundation Project offers promises it will fail to keep – The Sun

  January 2078 C.E.

  Theren unanimously elected as the Executive Director of the ISA Council – VirtualBook News Network

  The corporate international bureaucracy might rejoice, yet substantial portion of public still unsure regarding role of synthetics in human society – Ceres Internaciónal News Corporation

  Book II of the Chronicles of Theren

  Most will look back on 2078 with bittersweet eyes. – “New Year’s Countdown Special,” John Rowland, 2079 C.E.

  Chapter 1

  As your President, I promise to break the political deadlock dominating Washington! – President-Elect Brian Woods, 2076 C.E.

  Yeah, you and every president for the last century. – Anonymous Twitter User

  February 2078 C.E.

  White pillars. Green bushes. Ironclad fences. Secret Service watched, waited, and listened, visible and invisible throughout the compound. Theren walked alongside Jill through AR, observing and analyzing the sights surrounding them. Even though they only traversed the path as a virtual projection, they still felt the dominating presence exerted by the seat of power for the U.S. Executive Branch.

  For almost twenty years, Jill had lobbied thousands of lawmakers across the world to support the Treaty on the Universal Rights of the Synthetic Person. Her most difficult target? The United States. Always notorious for its painstaking approach to signing international human rights treaties, the political atmosphere transformed following the speeches of the charismatic President Brian Woods. He had taken it upon himself to ensure that the Senate finally ratified the international treaty as U.S. law.


  Escorted by two Secret Service agents, Jill approached the entrance to the historic West Wing of the White House. As they walked, the pair conversed. To her, Theren’s lips moved when they spoke; yet they could only see the world through Jill’s eyes, and only she saw them. When she spoke to them, only they could hear her.

  “I’m still cautiously skeptical about President Woods,” she said, flexing the arms of her new MI-07. “He’s been in office for just over a year, and I just don’t see how he expects to sway this Senate. This is the same Senate that attempted to pass an explicit limitation on SI employment within the United States government.”

  “He has a populist mindset, certainly,” Theren said. “But perhaps he has a compromise on one of his other platforms in the works. It’s only recently that public opinion on SIs in the United States breached fifty points in our favor. But that fact might begin to hold weight.”

  “Theren, I love your enthusiasm—and your optimism—but American politics is so much more complicated.”

  The agent escorting Jill opened the VIP guest door into the West Wing, ushering her inside. They walked through a maze of offices and cubicles all crammed into different rooms in a haphazard chaotic mess. A system existed amidst the tempest, probably understood only by the chief of staff. The placement of each office followed particular rules descending from a rigid, centuries old system of protocol created by U.S. executives.