Behind the desk, at his throne, sat the young King Hum. He was younger than either Ethan or Tera imagined. At most, he was only a few years older than them, if his complexion was anything to go off. His face was finely tanned, a narrow, short beard leading from his lip to his chin. His hair was clipped to such a length that it was barely visible under the crown of bejeweled antlers he wore. His clothing, though colorful and ornate, was no different in style from the humble robe Orram wore. King Hum’s face was void of emotion as we watched the three enter his chamber.
“Good afternoon, your grace,” Orram said, bowing as he did when Tera and Ethan had first arrived.
“And to you,” the young king replied, returning a short bow from his seated position. Then he turned to greet the others. “I welcome you to our holy kingdom and bless your presence here. I hope you have been enjoying your stay.”
Ethan and Tera, looking at each other for a bit of reassurance, offered a bow similar to Orram’s.
“Thank you for meeting us, your Grace,” Tera said. “We are grateful for your audience. Our stay in Opes has been nothing short of delightful.”
“Wonderful,” King Hum said, smiling. His face didn’t even wrinkle.
“Your grace, we’ve come to ask you for your help,” Ethan started.
“I’ve been given a summary, but I prefer to hear the details as you’ve prepared them,” the man in the throne replied. “Feel free to make your case — and don’t feel hurried. My ears are wide open, as is my mind.”
“People in Shell City are suffering,” Ethan said. Tera nodded her agreement, internally relieved that he chose to go first. “As I’m sure you know, the Council that rules the city is cruel and oppressive. They’ve created a divide in the people so they are too busy fighting with each other to focus on the injustice being done to them.”
He paused for a moment, expecting King Hum to interrupt with a comment or some insight. The young monarch never did, though. He listened without any indication that he wanted to interrupt. There was a calm about his patience.
“Your grace, I understand how your people feel about installed intelligences like myself,” Tera said, rescuing her partner. “I don’t blame you for not wanting that kind of existence for your own people. Every day, however, I.I.s are persecuted just like their human counterparts. It’s not about race, or mortality, or whatever. It’s about power and wealth. Like it’s always been.”
“I acknowledge the personage, and therefore the suffering, of our I.I. brothers and sisters,” King Hum said. “Though our religion doesn’t encourage the lifestyle people like you have, it does nothing to diminish your humanity. We do not believe that beings such as yourself can get into paradise, but that doesn’t make you any less of a person. My heart aches for all who are oppressed, regardless of what their bodies are made of. However, I have flesh-and-blood people, right here in Opes, who would be in danger if we helped you against the Council. People would die, you see, and no matter the injustice your leaders enact on you, my people cannot pay for it.”
“It’s not just the I.I.s, your grace,” Ethan started. “I get why you want to look out for your people, but there are flesh-and-blood people in Shell City being held against their will.”
The young king’s eyebrow cocked, but he remained silent.
“That’s right,” Ethan continued. “The Council is keeping human children in a computer simulation in order to harvest their bodies.”
King Hum and Adviser Orram shared a look of horror as the young man spoke.
“I was once captive in this system, before the People’s Union freed me,” Ethan said. “If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here today. My body might be, sure, but it would be a fancy suit for some rich I.I. to walk around in. They would have destroyed my brain, effectively killing me. I was lucky, but thousands of others are not. We need your help.”
King Hum lowered his gaze to the desk and thought for a moment. Everyone in the throne room was still.
“I did not know about this terrible practice,” King Hum said. “But surely we can’t act on your word alone.”
“Which is why we brought evidence,” Tera interjected. She looked between Orram and the king. “Do you mind seeing the projection I have?”
Both Opesians shook their head and waited for her to proceed. Tera stepped back and loaded up the projection program the Clevingers had given her just for this purpose. It was clear that neither the king or his adviser knew what to expect. Even Ethan backed up and braced himself, and he had seen the projection several times before.
Tera started it up. A small emitter in the front of her robotic throat projected a hologram of a surgical theater that filled the throne room. Both Opesians jumped a little when the program began, terrified that the holographic images would hit them as they grew to full scale.
In the middle of the room was the operating table, and on it was Ethan’s old friend Nadia. He had seen the projection over and over at the behest of the People’s Union, but it still unnerved him. The chamber was filled with the sound of mechanical saws buzzing, lasers firing, and most of all, the screams of the young patient as they cut into her brain.
The disturbing scene only played out for a minute or so before it transitioned to the inside of the human storage facility. Countless mucus-green pods rushed by them, showing the true scale
