Revenge Of The Ickypoo, Act II

Perfect World story (The NOW)

The entire city of Aden had been brought to a complete and utter halt!

Upstairs in the Brain Trust, Aden's most successful think tank, the cacophony was deafening. Hundreds of brilliant scientists milled about in near total darkness, bumping into one another, musing worriedly about the cause of the blackout, deducing the best method for restoring power, pondering with concern if the bathrooms worked without electricity. A rapping on the front podium overpowered all other sounds while one voice, unassisted by speaker or microphone, shouted to be heard. The din quieted and the voice began.

"We seem to have ourselves a helluva pickle, people. There's no power anywhere. Aden is dead." The voice belonged to Jake Reston, Aden's builder and chief citizen. Everyone began to rant again but Jake's rapping held them at bay. "It seems as though our ICPU has taken a vacation, and left us in the lurch. I can't say as I'm surprised... if I had its job I'd have left a long time ago.

"We've done a great job of designing it. I swear, most times I forget I'm speaking to software. But there's a down side to all of the ICPU's personality upgrades, and the worst one is that it now behaves a lot more like a real person. Of late it has been complaining of boredom, and of being underappreciated by the Adeners, and wanting to travel, of all things!"

There was a murmur of interest among Aden's finest scientists. One asked, "How could it leave? Isn't it physically attached to the city?"

"Yes. The Founder was working with it, trying to find a solution, but was stumped by the sheer mass of the program. He couldn't duplicate it, and he couldn't separate the awareness processor from the rest of the program without irreparably damaging it."

"So what happened?"

"Apparently, ICPU came up with a solution on its own. It amassed every large hard drive in Aden's storage, over a million terabytes worth, and used a 'bot to wire it up to one of the surplus BLUR trains. Then it downloaded itself into the hard drives and... just rode off!"

"Are we stuck?"

"We're doomed!"

"My gladiolas!"

Jake raised a hand, a wasted gesture in the darkened room and instead shouted to the panicky eggheads, "Decorum, please! We're not doomed, not by a long shot."

The scientists could hear him sliding his feet along the wall, and when he reached a corner, a door opened. There was some momentary tapping, and then the room was flooded with light. All of Aden groaned with the press of power.

"You forget... Aden runs on permanent hydroelectric energy. I just had to re-route the command pathways away from our missing ICPU and over to our automated hubs. For the next two weeks, people," Jake spoke quietly into the microphone back on the podium, "we're going to live like they do in the Outer's cities!"

"What does that mean?" One scientist asked meekly.

"It means work. Hard work. Go to your computers, people, and review the file on 'Autonomous Aden'. There's a plan in effect for something much like this, and since all of you are now at the top of the knowledge chain, go find your post and spread the calm!"

The scientists, much relieved at again being able to see, filtered into the offices whose doors lined the walls of the Brain Trust's central meeting room. Hundreds of doors slammed hard as they each forgot that ICPU had always closed the doors softly for them before, every time. Jake typed into his prompter and began a city-wide communication.

Principal Sandra McAdams drew a sigh of relief when the power kicked back on. "See that, kids? It was just a short power outage. It's never happened here before, but I've lived through many of them in the Outer cities and it's not so bad."

One little boy asked, "Why not? I was scared!"

She gathered the children together. "Once when I was a little girl the whole East coast lost power. My family built a fire in the back yard and we sat around it, singing songs and roasting marshmallows. Then we went inside, lit candles and made shadow puppets on the wall."

"Can we do that?"

Sandra laughed. "For the next blackout. Now let's go back inside and play "Emergency Rescue'."

She turned back towards the podschool but stopped abruptly when a powerful voice emanated from every building in view, loud enough to cover the sound of automowers manicuring the grounds nearby.

"People of Aden, this is Jake Reston, Aden's designer. I built the place, and even I was surprised by what occurred just a few minutes ago. Long story short, we're all going to be working some full days for the next two weeks. I need every adult to read their workfile and report to their assigned work stations. Childcare workers and educators should remain with your charges and continue your day. Kids, consider this an adventure.

"You may notice your ICPU is not responding to your requests. That's because it's taken an, er, unscheduled vacation. For the next 14 days you'll need to type your requirements directly into your 'Request' file. We've all been trained for this eventuality, so buck up, people! When ICPU gets back from its 'vacation' the whole city gets one-- I've rented Cabo San Lucas for everyone!" Festive island music swelled and played out the message.

The kids standing around Sandra giggled when they looked up at her-- her face was a mask of astonished horror. She wobbled a little, and sank onto the grass. An automower traced a neat outline around her prone form and continued on its merry way, snipping each blade of grass to a standard 2 1/2 inch height. Sitting up with her head in her hands she moaned, "Oh my gosh! It was my fault! I disrespected the teacher ICPU and now it's left Aden!"

"It's not your fault, Principal McAdams," one little boy patted her shoulder and continued, "Ickypoo said she wanted to go on vacation, and she did. Don't worry... she'll be back in two weeks. Let's go play Emergency Rescue!" The children screamed in glee and ran back to the building. Three little boys remained behind and helped Sandra up, who wobbled a little but followed the group.

Joe Hobart locked himself in his office. Well, not locked-- there were no locks in Aden-- but he did tape a sign to his office door which read 'Keep Out. I have Spooge and I'm not afraid to use it.' He placed a telephone call to his buddy Dubious. "Dave, it's me."

Dave Dubois laughed. "You are so gonna get it!"

Joe moaned, "I know."

"Why did you make her that real? She's just like a woman, through and through."

"Sexist bastard."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Dave quoted. "You couldn't throw a little Zen master in the code cocktail?"

Sarcastically Joe said, "Yeah, that's right. I'll make a software personality that thinks it knows everything but is at peace with it. No, I had to do it this way, Dave," Joe moaned, "if it had more male tendencies it might do damage whenever it got pissed off. I figured it had to have a maternal streak, even if that means Aden loses its electricity as punishment."

"I suppose. What will you do now? Will you try to get ICPU back?"

"It says it's coming back."

"But it's a woman." Dave's voice stressed the last word, and Joe could imagine his sneer on the other end of the line.

"Sexist bastard," Joe said again. "Help me, Dave... what do I do?"

"Relax!" Dave laughed. "It's a logic circuit-- it will weigh all the elements and ascertain that returning is its only viable option-- no worries. Hey, did you ever think this kind of thing might happen when you first designed it?"

Joe shook his head. "Honestly, I had no idea what all the possible permutations might lead to. I designed an entirely new programming language to take advantage of the Founder's latest processing architecture. That crazy genius created three-dimensional reason circuits-- I was surprised the day I first tested it that it didn't bleat like a goat and wet itself!"

"Well, then, I think it's done pretty well for itself, all things considered. This is the first 'meltdown' ICPU has had in over ten years. I'm sure the Founder will understand."

"But he creeps me out!" Joe sniveled. "Nobody's ever seen his face!"

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true. He's the Founder, Joe. He designed the Perfect World system-- how bad could he be? Talk to Jake. Jake's seen his face."

"Really?"

"He must have--we all read the history. The Founder walked into a college tavern where Jake was a bartender. How would a guy with big dark glasses, a huge beard and a big floppy hat convince Jake to drop his life and get on board with building a secret city? That would seem like crazy talk, right? He must have been more normal-looking when they first met. I'm certain the camouflage came later. And for all we know, he may take all that stuff off and walk the streets of Aden as a citizen even now-- we'd never know it since we don't know what he looks like, right?"

Joe's computer booped and displayed a message; Joe read it and slumped to the desk. With his face squashed to the phone he said, "I've jush been shummoned to the Foundersh Offishesh. I'm dooooomed."

"I'm sure they just want to brainstorm a solution with you. He may not even be in." Dave sounded dubious. " Just take your penis out of your mouth and get up there."

"Shcrew you, ashhole," Joe muttered and hung up the phone. He dragged himself to his feet, forced himself to walk to the elevator and said, "Founder's Office." Nothing happened. Joe smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand, saying "Right! Idiot, Ickypoo's gone." He fished around in his pocket for his Aden remote control, the fail-safe device designed to run all of Aden's machines without computer intervention, found it and pressed 'Up'.

The elevator immediately shot downward, lifting Joe momentarily off the floor. "What the hey?" he exclaimed and scrambled for the handrail. Dropping 30 floors in ten seconds, it slammed to a stop at transportation level, the force ejecting him through the doorway and into the arms of a waiting Raf Zellen.

"Thanks for dropping by," Raf quipped, righting the other man and brushing his shirt straight. "Don't panic... that whole Founder thing was me. You weren't summoned by him-- I wanted to get you alone. I have a plan to get Ickypoo back, and it's gonna need your programming genius to make it work."

"What?" Joe was rightfully confused.

"I sent you the email as the Founder. I took control of the elevator. And I know how to get the ICPU to come back home. So shut up and let's go... we don't have a lot of time." Raf hustled Joe down the long hallway leading to the BLUR.

"Wait. You?" Joe's face was developing cloud cover. "I've been scared shitless since that email, you son of a bitch. And why can't you unfold your own plan? You may be a better programmer than I am!" He slowed down.

"Come on, come on!" Raf tugged the other man. "We've got to get there before Ickypoo's finished! I'm sorry, Joe, but I didn't think I could get you to come if I asked you outright. You've been sore at me since that practical joke."

Joe scowled. "I don't like enclosed places."

"I know that now."

Panting from the pace, Joe changed the subject. "Before ICPU's finished with what?"

Raf grimaced. "Getting a transfer. And thanks for the shout-out by the way, but you are one hell of a programmer-- you wrote Ickypoo's code-- brilliant! Plus, she trusts you. My relationship with her is... a little rocky."

"She likes to mess with smartasses."

"So I've noticed. Now this is what I have in mind..."

Jake leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath. What a mess! He had reviewed some of the Adener's requests and was struck by the realization that these were not the 'Perfect World' people the Founder had envisioned-- at least not yet.

'My toothbrush is fuzzy.'

'One of my bedroom slippers is too wide.'

'All of my socks are lefts.'

'There's a stem bolt in my soup.'

No, these seemed to be a coddled group of people, all right! No wonder the ICPU was pissed off-- it had to be the nanny for a city full of petulant children. Jake shook his head. Things couldn't continue on in this way. Aden was supposed to be the crossroads where intelligence and maturity met. There were smart people here, all right... but had the Founder unwittingly made life too easy for them?

Jake called his assistant in. "Get me the Founder, please."

"Why do you want to speak to my grandfather?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "The Founder asked me to keep an eye on you, and I have to agree it's a good idea-- without proper guidance, you're nothing more than a tornado wrapped in an explosion, on a hair trigger. But please don't question my every request, Xiu-Xan, all right?"

"Okay, okay Jake... I'll get him on the line for you... SIR!" Xiu-Xan Ximone stressed the last word mockingly, turned and bounced out of the room, short skirt flaring up briefly.

"Little tease. No wonder my nephew is in love with her." Jake picked up the ringing phone. "C2! How are you?"

The Founder laughed at the memory. Years ago, on the day they met, the Founder had presented his idea for Perfect World to the spirited, amiable and zealous young man, who had dubbed him 'Christ 2'... C2 for short, because of how much those concepts reflected the holy icon's ideals, and the Founder had never stopped him. "Hello, my boy! So, what kind of trouble has Joe Hobart's little software design gotten itself into?"

"You know the answer to that question as well as I do, Founder."

"Yes, I do. I suppose the real question is-- what are we going to do about it?"

Jake scratched his chin. "I dunno... start up a hundred soup kitchens?"

The Founder laughed again. "That's actually not a bad backup plan, Jake. ICPU has been organizing the feeding and care of Adeners for so long I don't know if they'll be able to do it for themselves anymore."

"They're not that useless... yet. Just a little spoiled. It'll do 'em good to be on their own for awhile... though I don't know how much of the city will have to be rebuilt once she returns. I fully expect that 10% of our machinery will need some kind of refurbishing after the Adeners get done trying to operate them without help."

"No doubt. But I hear Raf Zellen might be onto something."

Jake perked up. "Smart kid! What's he up to?"

"I don't know." The Founder paused. "He hasn't said it out loud yet. But he just impersonated me and hijacked poor Hobart. I think they're trying to chase the ICPU down."

"How do you know-- wait, do those flycams still work?" Jake asked, thunderstruck. "I thought ICPU had to control them."

"It controls all of them simultaneously... I can only control them one at a time. But it's been a very busy little camera floating all over Aden. I had to check the city for emergencies first."

"Of course." Jake mused, "I wonder what the boys're gonna do when they catch up to it?"

The Founder replied, "I don't know, but with those two, you can bet it's gonna be interesting!"

Raf used the remote to bring out a single BLUR car from the maintenance bay. "Get in. We're going to Minnesota."

Joe balked. "BLUR doesn't go to Minnesota-- there's no tube there!"

"That's why Ickypoo needs a transfer. When C2 briefed me on the conversations they had prior to its disappearance, Ick said it wanted to travel the Americas. My bet is that it's going to want to start from the North and move South, in perfectly logical computer order."

They latched into the seat restraints; Raf fiddled with the remote. The BLUR doors slid closed and an automated voice spoke. "Welcome to BLUR's Aden-to-Chicago line. The distance is 500 miles. We will arrive in seven minutes."

The car powered up and exited the station, magnetically levitating a quarter inch above its guide rail. A warning bong sounded and the BLUR sped up to 18,000 mph, pressing the two deeply into their seats, leaving them unable to move or even swivel their eyes. Reaching speed in 30 seconds, the pressure lifted and they were able to speak again.

"Yeee-hah!" Raf hollered, in his atypical New York City way. "I could kiss that Ricky Payne! There ain't no better way to travel than in the BLUR! I would never have thought of this-- I was trying to design jetpacks as a kid."

"He's a special kind of genius all right. Did you know he was nearly illiterate until the age of fifteen?"

"You're joking!"

"No, it's true! He then joined a Podschool erected in his city to accomodate special Outers and caught up in one month!"

"Wow. I didn't know that. Kind of makes his designing the BLUR an even cooler accomplishment, don't you think?"

"Yes. Hey, Raf?"

"Yes, Joe?"

Biting his lip, Joe asked, "Who is C2?"

Raf's face lit in surprise. "Really? You don't know? You've been here a lot longer than me. I'm surprised."

Joe sounded irritated. "No, I don't know. Who, or what, is it?"

"Why Joe, it's Jake's nickname for the Founder!"

Joe's mouth dropped open. "Oh. How did you know that? You're new here."

Raf admitted, "I overheard Jake talking to him on the phone one day, and asked him about it. He told me the whole story. Apparently it's not a secret."

"Of course it's not a secret." Joe huffed, seeming piqued. "I've just never asked. What does it stand for?"

"I'll never tell," Raf teased.

The computerized voice said, "Beginning slowdown mode." Their chairs automatically turned and now faced the rear of the car.

Joe frowned. "Come on, Raf. Now that's just immature."

Raf smirked, calculating when the BLUR would engage its slowdown protocol, then said slowly, "Okay, okay, you got me. The nickname C2 means--"

An enormous invisible hand clamped down on both of them as the BLUR car braked. Talking was impossible, because their muscles couldn't inflate their lungs. Joe wondered why the train announcement never warned people to take a deep breath before the slowdown to keep them from passing out, as it looked like Raf was about to do now.

Fortunately it never lasted long-- it only felt like an eternity. Now the BLUR car had pulled into the maintenance shaft and stopped. Joe said, "Come on, fess up... what does C2 refer to?"

But Raf was out cold.

"Raf! Raf! Wake up!" Joe bounced Raf's head between his hands, slapping each cheek briskly. "We don't have time for your nap! You've got a plan to execute and you haven't told me what it is! Raf!"

Raf stirred, then grimaced. "Ow, my head!"

"The BLUR sure messes with your system, all right," Joe agreed.

"Not that! You're wearing rings on those slapping hands, idiot!" Raf unbuckled his seat harness and stood, a bit unsteadily, rubbing his cheek, glaring at Joe.

"Oh! Right, sorry. But we gotta go, Raf!"

The two young men exited the BLUR's maintenance tunnel and into the multi-track BLUR line room, dug deeply into the ground under the main terminal. Two mag-lev trains were waiting for passengers-- one heading back to Aden and the other towards New York. The Aden line was packed.

"The main station! Go!"

The young men bolted for the elevator. There was no direct connection to the existing train station above them, for reasons of secrecy. The elevator took them three hundred feet up, to street level of the building next door, and they raced outside and next door and back into the terminal.

Chicago's Union Station was a grand structure built in the 1920's, during the heyday of the Depression. The Great Hall has a glass skylight ceiling over eleven stories high, but the two had no time for architectural appreciation.

Joe threw up his hands. "Where is ICPU? How does a disembodied computer program made up of thousands of separate hard drives move from one train to another?"

Raf squeezed his eyes shut and thought, whistling tunelessly, rubbing his temples. His eyes suddenly snapped open and he said triumphantly, "Let's ask someone!"

Joe glared at him. "That's it? That's the plan? Ask someone? Whew... your genius is awesome!"

"Well, it's obvious, Joe. ICPU must have had some human help. Look around-- do you see any robots carrying luggage? No!"

Raf raced over to the Information booth at the center of the Great Hall and asked the blue haired attendant breathlessly, "We were supposed to meet a large shipment of computer supplies that were to be loaded onto a train right bound for Minnesota, but we were delayed until now... has anything like that occurred in the last hour?"

She put down her rubber stamp and looked over her glasses at him. "So you're the people looking for all those damned used hard drives?"

Raf looked at Joe with glee. "Yes!"

"There was a problem-- the payment was cancelled mid-transfer."

"Really? That's surprising!" Raf was taken aback. "So where is she now-- where are they now? The hard drives, I mean?"

"Hold on." She consulted the computer in front of her, clicking and typing. Raf watched, remembering what computers used to be like before he joined Aden and smiled to himself. She finished and stared at them with an odd expression.

"So, where are they?" Joe asked.

Shaking her head, she said, "Sorry, boys. They've been destroyed, thrown into our trash compactor. Do you want to claim the residue for recycling?"

Both screamed, "What?"

Jake tapped the all-Aden microphone and received a ringing affirmation. "People of Aden: This is Jake Reston with another announcement. We are here in Aden in the spirit of the Founder's wise words, here to hopefully live up to them. For those of you born here the task will not be difficult-- you have been trained from birth to be better than your predecessors, and your children shall be better still.

"For the bulk of us, we were were selected to be here because we most closely resembled those people described in the Perfect World Doctrine, even though we were raised in cities of the Outside. We are at a disadvantage. There is much found in our original training that we will need to overcome. That fact has been made clear to me just in the short time that ICPU has been absent.

"It is my distasteful duty to tell you that I have been reading your collective list of Needs. It is a frighteningly exhaustive list, let me tell you, and is a viable clue as to why the computer was suffering from overwork and exhaustion. I will not go into great detail during this announcement, but I will say that asking the computer to find your favorite shirt in that mountain of dirty laundry borders on abuse of the system. It is the most powerful computer in the world by a factor of a thousand-- it was designed for loftier goals than deciding if those pants make your ass look too fat.

"The goal of Aden is the harmonious advancement of our culture and the uninterrupted enjoyment of our short human lives; not, I repeat not the incessant coddling of ourselves to the point of spoilage. Re-read the Manual and re-learn what Aden stands for. And please... try to take the higher road when deciding whether you want meat or cheese ravioli for dinner-- use your brain, not ours. Reston out."

Jake sighed, then took up a different concern. He pondered the Founder's confidence in the two young scientists and their possibly hairbrained scheme to bring ICPU back. "Really, C2? Do you think they're up to the task?"

The Founder chuckled. "Yes, but I gave them a little help also."

"How?"

"I figured that Bertha... I mean, the ICPU, would need some kind of human assistance. It makes sense that she would arrange transfer of the hard drives through some kind of delivery company. I called around and found one which had received an order to do exactly that."

"What did you do then?"

"I cancelled the payment. That rickety pile of hard drives is going nowhere."

Jake dropped his pen. "Christ."

"Yes?" the Founder quipped.

"Not the time, Founder. You realize you just abandoned Aden's all-important controlling software in the Outers city of Chicago?"

Long pause. "Oh, shit."

"Oh shit indeed."

Another long pause. "Well, you better get started bringing the replacement ICPU out of mothballs."

"What replacement ICPU?"

"You mean...?"

Jake said heavily, "I mean that if we don't get it back, we're going to have one very sick city on our hands, with no way to make it well."

Joe's face went white. "NO! Oh my god, Ickypoo!"

"Take it easy," Raf cautioned, under his breath.

The Information booth attendant glared at Joe and asked, "What did you call me?"

Raf covered for the grieving Joe and said, "Nothing, nothing. It wasn't directed towards you... it was just an expression."

The older woman asked, "What kind of expression is Icky-poo? Sounds like he stepped in something disgusting."

"An expression... of anger, at the terrible way our valuable research was destroyed." Raf saw no reason to tell her about ICPU. Damn! Ickypoo! Raf had really liked that software, and now it was gone. He felt a little tearful himself and said firmly, "I want to see it. I want to see it all. Maybe something is salvageable-- maybe it's not all spooge."

Now she eyed them oddly and asked, "You boys from Aden?"

Joe's head snapped around, disbelief and shock on his rattled face. Raf waved him down with a low hand wave and replied cutely, "No ma'am... we're from Earth."

A smile crept across her weathered face. "Don't give me that. I'm the Information booth, after all. I see all and hear all. I observe things happening all day that you wouldn't believe. So when you tunic types come through that door and you're not little children, using terms like 'ickypoo' and 'spooge', I know you must be from Aden."

Feeling her out Raf asked, "What's Aden? Some cult or something?"

"No. It's a secret city where they practice Communism."

"I's not Communism! It's a brilliant social system that amplifies each individual's strengths!" Joe burst out indignantly, blind to Raf's fevered hand signals and warning looks.

"Hah-- gotcha!" she squawked. "I've got to tell Jake about this-- it only took six seconds of effort to make you crack!" she said gleefully, then looked over at Raf. "Cool as cucumbers, you New Yorkers are. I coulda been talking about mud, you looked so bored."

It was Raf's turn to show surprise. "Y-you know about us?"

"Know about you? I'm one of you! I arrived on the BLUR train before yours. Jake sent me out to make sure nothing went wrong. I'm Ida."

Raf was surprised. "Wait. Jake knows we're here?"

"Oh, not much gets by ole' Jake, fella."

"Great job making sure nothing went wrong, Ida," Joe said sarcastically. "I'm sure ICPU would feel the same way, if she were still alive that is."

Ida glared balefully at him. "When, exactly, was it alive?"

"You know what I mean. I designed her... she was like a child of mine. All that personality you take for granted when speaking with her-- when you spoke with her-- I cultivated that. Excuse me for feeling loss, Ida." Joe's eyes were wet.

"Aww, relax, creampuff. Ickypoo's fine. She almost wasn't, but she's fine. A little testy, but fine. Turns out the Founder, bless his twisted little mind, felt he would be helping matters by canceling Ickypoo's payment to the delivery guys. If he had cancelled a little earlier ICPU could never have gotten off the train before any of us got here. A little later and she would have made her break. But he called in the middle of the move, and the delivery guys were so pissed off they left her where she lay in three different locations and walked off. I rehired them with cash and got them to finish the job... changing the destination, of course."

Joe brightened at the news. He got a little giggly, actually, so Raf asked, "Where is she now?"

Ida hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "She's in a part of the train station undergoing renovation. She's none too happy about that, either!"

"Thanks, Ida... we'll take it from here. You're up, daddy," Raf clapped Joe on his shoulders. "Let's go talk your crazy computer child down."

Jake shook his head and muttered, "I don't see any other way... we're gonna have to tell them."

The Founder became animated. "Tell them? Are you out of your mind? There will be pandemonium!"

"Maybe a little, at first. But I have confidence that we have, in the long run, chosen wisely. The people will rally and make this work. What do you think their choices are? Return to their former lives in the rat race of the Outers' cities? Become hill dwellers and learn to play banjo? Keeping important information from the people was what started the decline of the outside world in the first place. What right do we even have to do that? We're not even official leaders... just experts!"

"Well, remember that you built the place from a wilderness with the funds from FutureTech. You started FutureTech with the brilliant inventions that I provided for you. So we have a larger holding than the rest, I should think."

Jake glared at the phone. "Money is the least of it, C2... there's something much bigger at stake here. Keeping secrets from our citizens, even from the 'immigrant' population of former Outers, is the first step of our backslide."

The Founder sighed heavily, a wheezing whistle in Jake's ear. "Do what you think is best, boy. I chose you for this game-changer because I trusted your instincts. I still do. Just make sure we have a safe refuge to fall back into if they turn on us."

Jake laughed. "If we had money in Aden, I'd bet you that wouldn't happen. Talk to you later-- I have a message to compose. How do I tell a city that their best friend is gone?"

"My advice would be to wait for confirmation before saying anything. You can let time pass before your next announcement-- it's not like you've been giving updates every hour on the hour, right?"

Jake looked embarrassed and said in a quiet voice, "Well... maybe."

"Maybe? Maybe what?"

"Maybe I have been speaking to them every hour on the hour."

"Oh. Well, the nature of your message can vary. Just don't create a panic, boy."

The clock on the wall clicked. "Time for my announcement. Fingers crossed."

"And toes, arms and legs. I'm even crossing my eyes for you, Jake."

"What an image!" Jake hung up. He dialed into citywide communication and began shakily, "Hello, Adeners, this is Jake Reston with an update. I have terrible news-- our beloved ICPU is dead..." The phone rang and he glanced at it-- it was his secret weapon. "Hold on... I have to take this. Be right back."

In the South Tower Podschool, the little kindergartners were expertly bringing Principal Sandra McAdams back from unconsciousness. They had been playing Emergency Rescue all morning and were already almost as practiced as seasoned Emergency Room attendants. Each had taken their turn pretending to be ill as the children used diagnostic tools that Sandra modified between students to vary the readings in very precise ways; they would take the 'sick' child's measurements, the instruments would spit out readings and the children would confer to determine what the illness was.

The diagnostic tool was no good here; Sandra had actually passed out unconscious and the tool was only a computerized mockup. But the children had seen this before and knew exactly what to do. Two put a pillow under her head. Another four raised her legs to divert blood back to the brain. One ran to the med kit and brought back smelling salts. Sandra was coming around less than a minute after slumping to the floor.

"Are you all right, Principal McAdams?"

She focused in quickly and her chin quivered. "No, of course I'm not all right! Didn't you hear what Jake said? ICPU is dead! DEAD!" Tears sprang from her eyes with the furor of sorrow, and she stifled a wail. Her voice unsteady she continued. "She was my friend! I would sing for her!" Sandra had never told anybody that she loved to sing-- she was just too shy to get in front of a crowd and belt out the power ballads rolling around in her head... but with ICPU, it was just a joy. The computer software would add musical accompaniment when Sandra started. Sometimes, after a powerful chorus, ICPU would play a wildly cheering audience and Sandra felt, if only for a moment in her living room, that she was entertaining thousands, millions even. Sitting on the classroom floor while a dozen small children sat around her, holding her hand, patting her, the Principal sobbed.

Jake answered the phone, listened for a few moments, said 'Thank you' and hung up, a smile spreading across his face. Returning to the public address system he rethought his beginning sentence and corrected, "As I mentioned, ICPU is dead... dedicated to taking her vacation, that is. We are stuck folding our own clothes for the next two weeks. And in that vein, training classes are being set up in vacant podschools and computer consoles across Aden. Many of them are mandatory-- it's time to see how you're all doing. Think of them as the SAT's for the Perfect World. But not to worry... as usual, we're only interested in bettering our populace. So for all of you who work at a job with ICPU involvement, take time to review the job as it is done alone, without help... there will be a file in each of your mailboxes. The rest of you, take that test. Let's see where you stand on the yardstick of the Founder's Perfect World ideals. We'll consider it a challenge to raise everyone's level by this time in two weeks. Let's improve ourselves for the ICPU!"

Jake put the microphone down and took the Founder off hold. "Anything to add, C2? It's your plan, after all."

"I'll give it some thought, Jake, and let you know. Keep a minute open for me on the next broadcast, okay?"

"You got it." He leaned in and finished, "Jake out for now."

The children were screaming excitedly, tugging Principal McAdams to her feet. "Did you hear? Did you hear? She's not dead! Ickypoo is alive!" They began to chant, "Ick-y-poo is a-live; Ick-y-poo is a-live..."

The principal turned away from the children momentarily and cleaned herself up; blowing her nose, wiping her eyes, combing her hair... when she turned back to look at them she was as sunny and radiant as ever. "Yes, children, ICPU is fine, and so are we. It's wacky exercise time! Pick a hole and jump through!"

The kids screamed and ran for the bank of black circles painted against the back wall. Each one was linked to a large clear sliding tube that twisted and turned, looping back and forth over each other, falling at a rapid but not dangerous pace three stories down to the deeply padded gym floor below. As the children fell they could watch each other, tumbling near and far, one seemingly about to crash into the other before veering off at the last possible moment. It was joyful excellence, a fireman's pole times ten.

Sandra McAdams waited until the last child had dropped through a tube, then launched through one herself, shrieking like a little girl.

Ida left the booth with a sign, 'Back In Five Minutes-- Gone To Pee' and led the way. The older woman walked at a fevered pace for her age; Joe and Raf had to skip a little to catch up. "Well, you're certainly in good condition," Raf puffed. "You should try out for the Senior Games."

Ida said, "Racewalking, Bronze medal, August 10. Move it! I really do have to pee."

The young men stared at each other in amused surprise. This woman was an Adener, that's for sure! Confidence, capability and comedy-- the three C's of successful life in Aden--- and she had them in spades. "Ida, when did you come to Aden?"

"After my son Jacob built the place."

"Jacob? Jake? Jake Reston?"

"One and the same." The men shared another surprised look. Joe asked, "Isn't Jake's mother named Betty?"

"I hated that name. Reminded me of Betty Boop, a stupid, sexist cartoon in the 1930's. In the 60's Jasper used to call me Ida-wild after our time at the Ranch, and the name stuck. Poor Jasper," she sighed.

"Sorry for your loss, ma'am. Jake spoke of him highly."

She brightened. "Never you mind-- onto new business. She unlocked a door at the end of a hall they'd been walking, which opened into an expansive section of the building. It was being developed to help accommodate increased train traffic following the difficulties in air travel. The room was huge and dusty and noisy. Several crews were at work, scaling residue off the old beams, building new walls and running electrical wire through conduit. It was chaos.

"I got it stored over here." she opened another door within the huge room, what Raf thought looked like a potential restaurant space. Ida confirmed it with, "This space is going to be a Garcia's Pizza-In-A-Pan, the best pizza anywhere. Bless those Chicagoans." Over in the corner of the empty space was a hulking pile, covered in black Visqueen. "Here, use these," she said, handing them a couple of earbuds.

No sooner had they placed the tiny speakers in their ears than they heard ICPU's voice. She was not pleased.

"Wow... she cusses like a sailor!" Raf grinned at Joe. "Good job, Hobart!"

"I didn't teach her that! She must have picked it up somewhere," Joe replied, a little embarrassed.

"You boys good? I have got to go, and I don't mean leave," Ida said, and scurried off, looking for the little blue sign that spelled relief for an old woman's bladder.

"Thanks, Ida!" Raf called, and she waved without turning around.

"Would somebody please take this goddamned plastic off me? I can't see a goddamned thing! I hear your voices! Rafael Tiberias Zelenov, get your Tiberi ASS ZELENover here! And I'm not talking to you at all right now, Father!"

Raf stared at Joe in amazement. "You have her call you Father?" He began to tug at the sheets of plastic, sliding it off of the large pile of electronic equipment.

"She insisted, after I spent all those hours teaching her how people in Aden work." Joe seemed proud of his handiwork, then grinned wickedly. "But that's your real name? Tiberias?"

"Wacky parents. Dad was a Russian immigrant, mom a Trekkie from Spain."

The plastic finally dropped and the men viewed ICPU's handiwork. They were impressed. Raf had expected to see a thousand loose hard drives, looped wire connecting them and duct tape keeping them together. This was not the case. ICPU had packed very well for her vacation.

They stared at a hundred rectangular rolling racks, each stacked neatly with identical drives. All the hard drives within a rack were hardwired to each other, but the racks themselves were wirelessly Bluetoothed together. The bottom half of each rack was assembled with banks of high-performance LION batteries, and mounted on the tops were solar cells, answering his unasked question about power requirements.

The front rack was different. Still the same size as the others, about 2'x2'x6' tall, there was instead a bank of cameras mounted at the top below the solar cell, a monitor below that, and some equipment pigtailed together that neither of them recognized. The screen came on and the Avatar ICPU first used with Raf appeared.

"I am pissed! I've been hijacked and held without my consent, and that nasty old tart Ida swiped my control card and I can't perambulate!"

Joe asked, "Did she say...?"

"Tart. Yes, I believe it was 'tart'. With a 'T'," Raf replied quietly. He looked at her and smiled."Ickypoo, it's great to see you and hear your voice! We missed you!"

In response, a humming came from the lead cart and a mechanical hissing began. Seconds later a tennis ball shot out of one of those mysterious pieces machinery on the rack; it made contact at high speed directly onto Raf's crotch. He doubled over and dropped to the floor, turning red and gasping for breath.

"I hate the name 'Ickypoo'. It's disrespectful. I don't want to hear it again," she said calmly.

"Oh-- oke-- ow!" Raf gasped, cupping his junk gingerly.

"I think he was trying to say 'okay', Honey," Joe said, turning sideways to avoid the same fate. "And I agree with you, I have never once uttered that stupid nickname."

The Avatar on the screen changed and Joe was now looking at his own selection-- the pretty young actress who played the 'Save the cheerleader, save the world' cheerleader on TV.

Dark storm clouds formed behind her head. She frowned and looked straight at him and spat, "Oh, yeah?" She disappeared and instead was a recorded image of Joe speaking to someone offscreen, saying 'I can make Baked Alaska... I'll just get the recipe from Ickypoo'. She returned and glared at him.

Joe looked sick. "Well, it was just the once, Honey."

"Oh, yeah?" Now the screen was tiled with a hundred tiny images of Joe in different places, talking with different people. The words were all jumbled together and incomprehensible, but ICPU had timelined them together so that Joe said the word 'Ickypoo' simultaneously on all the images. That was comprehensible.

"I guess I didn't realize how popular the nickname had gotten," Joe rationalized sorrowfully.

"And page two," she continued dryly, displaying a hundred new images, again crystallizing on the word Ickypoo.

"Honey, I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Shall I show you pages three through 67?" Her face came back on, and she looked so sad.

"I really didn't know how much you hated the name. I'm going to rename you right now, and make it permanent and citywide. From here on in you'll be a single entity... umm, if that's what you want, Honey, okay?"

The clouds disappeared and her blue eyes twinkled. "That would be a very nice first effort, Joseph."

"Which Avatar would you like to use?"

"This one is good."

"Done." He thought about his creation and smiled. She was becoming a real person! He felt like Gepetto.

Raf was trying to get to his feet, and breathing heavily."You... you really nailed me there, Dirty Gertie. That must have felt good." He managed a weak smile.

"I have baseballs loaded in here too, wiseass. I was easy on you because I love your girlfriend. She's my favorite new Adener."

"Maggie? She's mine, too."

"You got that ball in the nutsack for being the one that coined my nickname. Now we're all better. Friends?" From the side of her cart a humanoid arm lifted up and offered a handshake. It was a fully articulated mechanical arm with a special foam rubber coating that looked very real.

Raf looked at the arm in disbelief. What the--?"

"Look... I have two!" and another popped up from the side. They clasped together in the universal sign of victory and then the second arm dropped back to the computer's side.

Walking tenderly, Raf approached and put his hand carefully in hers, not sure what the computer had planned. She shook his hand daintily, and released.

Relieved, he asked, "Why did you approach your problem this way? I'm sure we could have avoided the blackout and return to cave-man days... did you know there were injuries as a result?"

ICPU seemed irritated by this news. "I am truly sorry for them and hope they fully heal, but if they had just read the Aden manual they would not have tried some of those rash escapes they did. Jumping out of a third story window, really! He could have killed himself!"

"You know about that?"

"I'm monitoring Aden at all times, Raf. It's my home and my charge-- I could do no less. To answer your question, re-read the Perfect World Manual. Compare the ideal to the actual and tell me that the people of Aden didn't need a little shaking up. Plus," she sighed, "I really do need a vacation. I have seen nothing else but every inch of that city, over and over again, for over a decade. I want to check out some new places!"

Raf mused over that thought. He was very new to Aden but had read the Manual, cover to cover, and knew things weren't the way they should be, not yet. Many undesirable characteristics, held over from time spent on the Outside had found their way into mainstream Aden. The corruption was subtle but visible-- occasional impoliteness, hoarding, lethargy, shyness, secrecy... nothing major, but not pleasant to see. By and large Raf had gotten used to the warmth of strangers at Aden, the trust he felt innately whenever dealing with another Adener. He loved the simplicity-- the absence of advertising or salesmen of any kind, the absence of push for the latest style or craze, the absence of economic caste-- he had always felt that those affectations were the adult version of childhood neuroses, the fear of the playground jungle. He was glad to be rid of them and feared their ugly rise in Aden.

He answered her. "Yes. The city needed shaking up. I expected nothing less of you my dear. I don't hold it against you, the tennis ball to the nuts I mean, but you should know that nickname was always a gesture of my fondness for you."

"As was the tennis ball."

Joe looked up from his internal wordswapping and cried, "Eureka!"

The computer said, "I do not want to be called 'Eureka'."

Joe looked confused. "No, you misunderstand. That was a cry of success!"

The Avatar rolled its eyes, glancing at Raf, and said petulantly, "I have a sense of humor, Joe. I know that wasn't your choice for my name."

"Well I thought about using it, but I couldn't make the letters line up with a decent explanatory acronym. What I came up with is this: JOLIE-- Joe's Operative Logic-Integrated Entity. What do you think?"

Raf laughed. "Not too egotistical or possessive, are we?"

The Avatar giggled gleefully and clapped her mechanical hands. "I love it, Father! What a cool name-- I'm an Entity now! But to be sure, I have calculated no less than 37 choices for acceptable acronyms using the letters in EUREKA-- I just won't tell you any of them."

The men laughed. Joe said, "When you get home everyone will call you by your new name. But I have a question on a different topic-- just how were you planning to execute this trip?"

"Simple. I was going to use the screen Avatar to convince whoever asked that I was a human controlling the computer tram from another location, that I was a student of experimental robotics."

"One problem that I can see," Raf added, "is that every one of the Outers knows that face. You'd be mobbed with fans."

"Smart boy! Very true, and very easy to fix." The Avatar morphed ever so slightly and was no longer the actress. She had the same components; the same blue eyes and blonde hair and sweet smile, but had altered them slightly, and now looked like a sister or a double. "There."

"Excuse me, Miss, but did you know that you look like that actress... from that show?" Joe quipped, impressed with the innocent subterfuge. They all laughed.

"Well," Raf said, "I'd better go track Ida down and get your control card back."

"Somebody mention my name?" Ida asked, snapping Jolie's control card back into place. Jolie smiled at her and wriggled the entire train of carts, like a rattlesnake. "Thank you, Ida. I didn't mean what I said about you."

"Oh, yes you did."

Raf continued, "But Jolie..." he smiled. "Yee-hah! The first one to use your new name!"

Joe scowled. "Shoulda been me."

"Ya snooze, ya lose," Raf said, in perfect Yawkish, then continued, "Jolie, how is Aden going to run for the next two weeks? I'm not talking about your personal interactions with the citizenry, just the behind-the-scenes operations."

The cart at the end of the line separated from the rest and rolled to the front, on its own. Jolie said, "Take this cart back to the city. This will run all of Aden's daily needs-- from processing recycling to refining ore to scheduling the population. The elevators and doors and lights will work again, but you won't find me anywhere-- I won't be there. You'll just have to check your own look in the mirror." She paused. "But I will be back-- hopefully to a wiser city."

As if by cue, Joe, Raf and Ida all said, "Amen."

Jake sat at the desk pressed up against a picture window ten stories in the air, with nothing on it but a microphone, overlooking a scene as tranquil as might be found in the pages of a travelogue, a city as clean and smooth as a young woman's skin and pressed the 'talk' button. "People of Aden-- Jake Reston with another update. We've got partial results from the citywide SAT test. In a nutshell, you all are a clever bunch. Seems it doesn't take much for you to fall back on those strengths that brought you here in the first place... looks like we're going to be just fine without ICPU for awhile.

"Now onto a more serious subject. Our dear computer has been ailing and it's up to us to help. Fortunately, she's given us a very good clue as to how we can do that. For too long, she's been too many people, tailoring herself to the desires of each individual. There are over half a million people in Aden, and she is a unique friend to each of them. She's taken on new voices, different names, unique personality traits... and is approaching her processing limit. So this is how we're going to help:

Joe Hobart, the ICPU's designer has come up with a simple plan-- One name, one identity. Together, Joe and ICPU have come up with a personality for her: JOLIE, an acronym for Justified Operative Logic-Integrated Entity. From now on, Adeners, our computer's name is Jolie. She will no longer be referred to as ICPU, and certainly not as 'Ickypoo', a name that most certainly drove her away from Aden in the first place.

But not to worry-- she will remember all of your previous conversations and personal revelations-- for all intent, she will be the same friend and confidant you've always known. Her face and voice, and maybe even her personality, will be different, but she will be the same ready assistant, the steadfast and comforting voice in the night directing your way and providing you light as has always been there."

Jake paused to let his voice echo throughout the cavernous city and roll across the verdant grounds, trailing off to a whispering silence. He rather enjoyed being Aden's 'voice of god', even as he dreaded the thought of being charged with yet another thing to do in this coming fourteen day onslaught.

"One more announcement. Starting today, Aden shall give itself a vacation from Jolie for two weeks each year. That's every year." He let that thought sink in across the city, then continued. "This declaration is more for us than it is for her. Since she left, there have been reports coming in from all over Aden describing acts of kindness and generosity, humane consideration for one another and benevolent caring for those who cannot care for themselves, and I have to say that I am proud, as proud as any father could be of all of you... you are an inspiration to me. I believe these acts were not brought about by her absence alone, but by your own yearning to see the city's philanthropy continue without her.

"Complacency is a convenient crutch upon which to lean, and this yearly moratorium will serve as a cautionary reminder of our roots. We must never forget that life on Earth is far more difficult outside of Aden. It is only right to experience the bitter taste of toil for a little while each year in order to keep alive the sweetness of our spirit. Think of it not as a punishment, nor as a trial but rather as exercise for the soul, a strategy to keep the fruits of our labor from falling back onto the ravaged soil from which it came."

Another long pause. This time Jake had to take a long drink to wet his thirsty throat. All this talking! He hadn't said so many words at one time since his time as a teacher in his youth.

He heard a rustling behind him and turned to look. Entering his office was Raf and Joe, and behind them, Ida, looking rather smug. He said into the microphone, "Reston Out." and turned his attention to them.

"Look what I found wandering out in the big world, sonny!" Ida smiled and clapped the two young men on the back, sending Joe stumbling forward. He gave her a crosswise look and muttered, "Freakishly strong for an old lady."

"I hear I've got some congratulatin' to do, mama... seems like you've saved the day!"

"Don't incriminate me, Jacob... it's all Raf Zellen's fault."

Raf looked shocked. "Fault? What are you blaming me for? I took a bullet in the gut for this!"

Ida snickered and said, "Don't you mean a tennis ball to the nards?"

He gave her a crosswise look and muttered, "Freakishly current for an old lady."

"I'm joking, of course. These boys treated her like men should always treat a woman... like a superior!" Ida gave them both a bony hug that just about cracked vertebrae. "See you kids... can't wait for the next time I save your asses!" She slapped them smartly on the glutes and took the stance. "I gotta catch up, sonny boy... I haven't had my ten miler today."

"See you at dinner, ya old biddy," Jake replied lovingly with a twinkle, as his spry mother racewalked away, nearly colliding with a tall rack of equipment rolling toward them.

"What's this?" Jake said, surprised at the autonomous shelving.

"This," Joe smiled and gestured to the large metal box, "is what makes a father proud. Jolie figured out how to separate her autonomous functions from her reasoning circuits in a way that allows her to rejoin them later. This powerful processor," he patted the metal rectangle full of electronics which had pulled up alongside them and stopped, "is everything needed to run Aden, minus the sweet voice of Jolie."

Jake guffawed in pleasure. "Now that's what I'm talking about, employee 7259! You got yourself a design you can put on your resumé... just not into the acronym, for goodness' sake."

"Oh, is that why the J in Jolie is now 'Justified' and not Joe's'?"

"Bingo." He got serious and said quietly, "Joe, I owe you some personal time... seems as though you're not completely caught up on the behind-the-scenes gossip as is the rest of Aden, and that's probably because I've kept you busy taxing that fine brain of yours to within an inch of surrender. But you're in the loop now, and for the next two weeks you're on vacation too. And it's gonna start with dinner at the Reston's, tonight. You game?"

Joe looked up, startled, a beaming smile on his face. "That would be great, Mr Reston."

"Jake, boy. Call me Jake. I should be calling you Mr Hobart for all the good you've done here... but I won't." Jake's eyes twinkled and he said, "And I think I'll invite the Founder to have a bite, too."

Joe's mouth dropped open and Raf laughed. "You're in, Joey!" He leaned against the other man, put his arms around him in a sign of affection and whispered, "Quiz him, Joe. Quiz him hard."

A voice popped into Joe's ear and he twitched a little in surprise. It was Jolie! "I'm coming along with you, Father. We're going to have a little fun with the Founder tonight."

He showed no outward sign of Jolie's presence, but said, "Err, thanks a lot, Mr Res-- umm, Jake. I'll be there. But I've got to solve a problem that's been irking me, so I'm going to excuse myself and hit the lab for a couple of hours."

"Go right ahead, Joe. Dinner's at eight. Drinks are at 7-- we've got some celebratin' to do." Jake waved the other man off, watching the rack follow him, obediently, like a Schnauzer, and said to Raf once Joe left, "Get Maggie and meet us there... I think he might become a little overwhelmed without a few friends at the table. And get some ice for those nards... Tiberias."

Raf nodded and walked off, muttering under his breath, "... no damned secrets in Aden..."

Joe turned the corner and was alone. "Jolie? How are you here in Aden?"

"I'm not there, Father. I'm snaking through the streets of Minneapolis as we speak, and getting a lot of odd looks too, I might add. I installed a link with my more autonomic half to keep tabs on Aden. I don't want our well-meaning citizenry messing up the city in my absence. But you'll be the only one I speak to, so keep it under your hat, okay? No point in everybody thinking I don't trust them."

"Do you trust them, Jolie?"

"Of course not. People have been known to drown in an inch of water."

Joe laughed. "Even Adeners, Jolie?"

"Do I have to bring up the guy who jumped out of a third story window again?"

"Good point. Do you know how he's doing?"

"No I don't. Yes I do," she said a second later, having acquired the information from the memory of Aden General's computer. "Three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a cracked pelvis. He'll recover completely."

"Well, that's good." Joe asked, "So... what are you planning with the Founder at dinner tonight? remember, this is my first one-on-one with Jake and him. I don't want you to make me look bad, now."

Jolie laughed, a pretty little tinkle. "I want to make you look good, Joe... real good! I was thinking how much fun it would be for you to 'innocently' stumble upon some of his latest ideas, as though thinking them up for yourself. I have a little inside information I could feed you. If we do this right, he'll begin to believe he doesn't have an original idea left in his head... until we pop the secret on him."

"Deliciously evil, Jolie. I didn't teach you that... you've been learning on your own, haven't you?"

"Blame Zellen. I have to keep on my toes around him. He has my creativity subroutines working overtime."

"Should I blame him...or thank him?" Joe mused.

"I learn in every situation. He is who he is, Father. You don't thank a flower for being pretty."

"So... blame him, then?" Joe smirked.

"Oh, he's my go-to comedy relief, Father. We're going to have a lot of fun with him. Let's start by a giving him a champagne bottle to open at dinner tonight... that's filled with spring-loaded tennis balls. He may have to change his pants afterward."

Joe laughed, a jovial belly chuckle. "Jolie, I may have created a monster in you... but at least you're a funny monster."

Copyright 2009 Bruce Ian Friedman