Cerebral Exchange :: Chapter 13 :: ROYALTY
“To our esteemed guests — may I present, Mistress Synthicate of The Synthicate Family.”
The Celestial Ballroom remained perfectly level as it drifted above the upper city. Its disc-shaped hull would have given it the appearance of a flying saucer, were it not for the retro-reflection panels that coated it, concealing it from view.
Its interior was decorated in stark contrast to its advanced shell. Baroque decor embellished the ballroom, from its polished, wooden flooring to its ornate ceiling. The pillars that maintained its curved walls spiralled upwards, drawing the eye towards the dazzling chandelier that spun slowly at their center. This perfect symmetry was only broken by two rounded staircases that clung to its walls and led up to a balcony area that overlooked the ballroom.
There was only one entrance, framed by luxurious, golden curtains. It connected the ballroom via airlock to a helipad atop the saucer — and it was through this entrance that Mistress Synthicate now sauntered into view.
As always, the Mistress had picked a blue ensemble for this venture, though for these formal engagements there was every reason to dress to impress. Her dress rippled from a non-existent breeze, and holographic, cyan flames flickered from the tails of her skirt.
Behind her, a droid crafted in titanium with a trim of matching blue marched in step. It carefully remained at the exact distance behind its Mistress that it had been programmed to maintain. Though clearly manufactured from metallic plates, its humanoid form had been crafted to mimic one of the Upper City’s most popular pop idols. A short crop top and an even shorter skirt, all crafted from metal, had been bolted onto its chassis. Its face — which lacked a mouth and nose but prominently featured two glowing, indifferent eyes — was framed by a bob that was painted black on one side and cyan on the other.
It would not speak unless spoken to. Thankfully, its Mistress was not known for being reserved.
“Another interesting fact about this location, doll, is that we really were lacking any good alternatives to it beforehand. We kept trying to organise venues maintained by neutral parties, but they were all abysmal in quality. In the end, it was the Elysians who stepped up and built this ballroom, and we’ve been coming here ever since.”
“Fascinating, Mistress.” Its eyes flickered as the words emanated from somewhere within its head. Its voice was abuzz with static, and completely monotonous.
“Oh come now, little butterfly. This is a party! Liven up. Be excited that you’re getting to see the world so high above where you used to call home.”
“It is interested, Mistress. It is very excited, Mistress.” Its monotone never shifted.
The ghostly, blue flames gave Mistress Synthicate the appearance of gliding as she maneuvered to greet the other guests. The grand, lavish ballroom looked like it could hold hundreds, yet only around thirty individuals stood in its center. All of them were dressed so dazzlingly — though none as perfectly as the Mistress. The doll made sure to observe the ensemble of differently coloured dresses, very specifically taking note of the fact that none were matching. It was as though each of the guests had a particular jurisdiction over the colour they wore.
No one was wearing pink though. No one was even a shade close to it.
At the base of each of the ballroom’s pillars stood a servant, waiting and ready to assist the esteemed clientele at a moment's notice. The uniform that adorned them was a heavenly white, trimmed in gold. Above each of their heads hovered a shimmering halo, and if one could glimpse past the glow they could see the mechanical contraption that spun to generate the illusion. The doll already knew about the halo devices that scribes of Elysian Industries were required to wear. It was what maintained their vacant expressions, too.
As carefree as the Mistress’ socialising appeared, there was motive in her direction. Her pleasantries were like snowflakes landing and dissolving upon a gritted pavement, intentionally designed not to garner further conversation. That was until, a full semi-circle around the attendees later, she honed in on a woman in a dark green dress that was more digital than it was fabric.
“Valentina! So good to see you. I must thank you and your company for your recent innovations in holographics. This dress would be ever so lacking without it.”
Valentina Joy had clearly not wanted to talk to Mistress Synthicate, however. Taking a second to compose herself, the brunette turned to greet her fellow socialite. She stared so very intently at the Mistress, with such piercing, emerald eyes, and very deliberately didn’t avert her gaze to look at the doll at all.
“Synthicate. A pleasure as always. How is the robotics industry treating you? Well, I hope?”
The doll had not encountered someone so good at speaking italics out loud before.
“It is, my dear Valentina. Speaking of, do you like our latest creation?” She beckoned a hand towards the doll. Valentina’s eyes didn’t budge. “Though perhaps it’s a bit more corporeal than your usual tastes?”
The doll observed, as a slight pink took hold of Valentina’s cheeks. The Mistress must have noticed it too, as a smirk blessed her face as well.
“It was so nice to see you, Valentina. Until next time.”
And with that, Mistress Synthicate stepped away from the general throng, her victory made clear. The doll eagerly followed, confused but delighted for its powerful Mistress.
“My little butterfly, are you taking in the sights? I do hope it’s not overwhelming, I recall that augmented reality vision took me some getting used to, too.”
“It is handling it, Mistress. It has already analysed all those attending and created a detailed synopsis of each of them, Mistress. Though it may need some clarification in regards to incomplete data, Mistress.”
“Oh do stop calling me that every sentence, I am tired of hearing it already.” The Mistress led her doll towards one of the stairways and they both started to ascend. “Couldn’t you try something less repetitive too? Something more regal themed?”
“Yes, my Queen.”
“That will do nicely, and try to vary it as you go as well.”
“Yes, your Majesty. Anything to please you, your Highness.”
From the balcony, the two could spy an eagle-eyed view over the assembled entourage. One might have expected there to be dancing at such a prestigious ballroom, but the doll was quickly noticing that a more subtle form of waltz was being performed.
“There it is, my little butterfly, in all its glory. Down there are the total remnants of the families of the corporate aristocracy… Well, myself not included, of course. What questions do you have? Feed your curiosity.”
“Their movement, my Queen. Why are they revolving between clusters, so?” The doll continued to stare down at them, as though they were a puzzle to be solved.
“Very observant, doll! You continue to surprise me. What you are witnessing is the flow of corporate competition that is being played out. It’s an intricate game that really only exists in this room, high above the city… for everyone else down below is presently living it.”
“What are the rules?” In its curiosity, the doll was forgetting to use its Mistress’ titles. Synthicate hardly minded, though; she was too enamoured by her present company.
“Let’s see… there are no official rules, much like how no one down there would ever admit that this game exists in the first place. It’s about accruing power and territory, at the expense of your competitors. But I would have to say the main unspoken rule is that we do not commit to direct, antagonistic action. None of us are at war, we’re not attacking each other with weapons. But sometimes, some research from one of the corporations might be stolen, or a prized asset might come down with a sudden case of a changed mind. And down there, you can draw the borders between all the different corporations. You can see their alliances based on how much they travel over these imaginary lines, and see enemies never once interacting.”
“And what does walking around the group symbolise, your Majesty?”
Mistress Synthicate sighed, slumping slightly across the bannister of the balcony, but not enough to make herself appear any less elegant. “It means I have grown tired of this, little doll. I want it all to stop.”
Another voice spoke from behind both of them. “The party will be ending soon, don’t worry!”
The doll spun round, alerts ringing across its vision as its defence parameters engaged. It analysed the potential threat — an Elysian scribe — and identified 5 potential weak points instantly. The scribe did not appear like the others; she was smiling far too happily, and her body kept twitching. She was walking closer. The doll readied itself to engage.
“Calm down, my little butterfly. This one is a regular occurrence here too. Hello, puppet master.”
Target identified as not a threat. Defence mode deactivated…
The scribe clapped her hands, that eerie grin never faltering. “Synthicate, what are you doing all the way up here? Usually you take such pleasure from riling up the other members much more directly. And look at this new toy you have!”
She approached the doll, waving her hands over it clumsily in awe. “You based this off one of the St Joys Holographic Idols, am I right? Which one is it again…”
The Mistress looked amused and approached her doll too, wrapping her arms around it like a treasured possession. “Cupid. That’s who it’s modelled after.”
“Cupid, right!” The scribe clapped its hands again. “Wasn’t that one designed by Valentina? There’s rumours going round that she has a crush on that idol, y’know?”
“Oh they’re not just rumours anymore, puppet master. You should have seen how flustered she got. Unless you did see, and you’re up here to congratulate me for my work, in which case I accept wholeheartedly.”
“Your highness, your doll is presently very confused by this scribe's behaviour.” The doll remained perfectly still and its voice never changed pitch, despite this hesitation. Scanning the interloper was throwing up all sorts of strange readings too.
“My little, lost butterfly, allow me to introduce you to this welcomed pest. They call themselves ‘puppet master’ and everyone here collectively humours them, because it annoys the Elysians so very much. From what we can tell, they’re an excellent hacker who has become fond of taking over scribes and interacting with us through them. They’re also very charming.”
The scribe bowed a full 90 degrees before righting itself. The doll didn’t understand why they had to be smiling that intensely though. “You flatter me, Synthicate. I’m so sorry for interrupting your explanation too, you were clearly getting quite invested. Would you like to continue? I’m happy to listen in, if you don’t mind?”
The doll watched as the scribe turned towards the bannister and awkwardly marched towards it. Then her Mistress took its wrist in her hand and pulled her over, and for a moment the doll thought it knew what it must feel like to ascend.
Once again, they were overlooking the party’s goings-on. The doll took note of how some groups had now intermingled further than before; clearly, alliance negotiations were going well.
“Let’s see... “ The Mistress mumbled a bit as she pondered what to address next. “How about—”
“How about we talk about why you’re currently explaining all of this to an autonomous object.” The scribe cheekily interrupted. “Last I heard, developing new, advanced AIs was very frowned upon for anyone — even you, Synthicate.”
“Well thank goodness it’s not an AI then, puppet master.”
“And what exactly would it be then, hmmm? Because it appears to fit the definition incredibly well.”
“Its intelligence is not artificial.”
“Not artificial? Is it being piloted remotely or something? Could I have a turn?”
The Mistress had such a wicked, coy smile to her; her doll would shudder if it was able to. “It’s completely off network, puppet master; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been allowed to bring it in.”
“So it’s not got someone remotely controlling it, nor has it got anyone encased within, or it would have been barred for that as well… Then…” The scribe's smile suddenly dropped into a frown. “Oh no. Oh Synthicate, you didn’t. That is cruel, even for you.”
The howl of laughter that had been building up within Synthicate was released in one dramatic burst. The assembled aristocracy of the ballroom floor turned upwards to witness her, and she stared down at them all, with fire burning in her cool, cerulean eyes. “Cruel? It submitted to this and to me alone. I’ve never seen prey so eager to be consumed before. How could I resist it?”
The doll stood in stoic silence. It would not speak unless spoken to. For it, emotions didn’t really exist anymore, especially not those of an intensity displayed by its Mistress. But it felt a cocktail of trepidation and belonging brewing within it. In this immense place, staring down at all these terrifying people, the doll had never felt more secure and safe, taking such blissful comfort in being by its Mistress’ side.
Just as quickly as Synthicate had become so rapturous, she slumped back down over the bannister and deflated with a sigh. By the entrance to the ballroom, three more guests had arrived. The doll tried to analyse them but the hoods of their black robes were drawn over their heads so firmly that it left little to be revealed. It could barely read their lips from this distance, and all three were firmly engaged in conversation with one of the scribes.
The puppet master had seemingly noticed this too, as the scribe down below suddenly started grinning from ear to ear..
Mistress Synthicate groaned. “I hate religion as a gameplay mechanic, it’s always so tedious. It’s astoundingly disappointing that some of my so-called ‘peers’ have fallen into it. You’d think we’d be better than that, but sometimes free will does have its pitfalls.”
The puppet master on the other hand — or perhaps more accurately, the puppet master’s puppet — was grinning as brilliantly as they had been before. “They’re informing the scribe that the cult is being closed down, and that they won’t be coming back.” They relayed, eagerly. “Apparently they’re tired of, and I quote, ‘literally everyone ignoring us.’ Sounds a touch adolescent, but I suppose they were a very new cult in the grand scheme of things.”
The doll watched as the three figures turned on their heels and departed without so much as a goodbye, much to the beckoning dismay of some of the guests.
The three observers watched in silence for a spell as the ballroom activities quickly reformed, and the social dance of corporate conquest resumed. By now, the doll had been able to identify which of the participants below represented which family. The Joys of the mega media conglomerate St Joys all wore overly gimmicky dresses that were bordering on gaudy. The Tessiers of Tessiertronics wore outfits as tacky and style-less as their products were known for. The Weylands were practically in uniform, and the designs of each member’s garb became more outlandish the higher up in their dated, militaristic hierarchy they were.
The only other family down there were the Elysians, adorned in billowing pastel colours (every pastel colour except for pink). The doll turned towards its Mistress. “It apologises for speaking out of turn, my Queen… but why are the Elysians so isolated from the other families? Are they just that difficult to get along with?”
Synthicate scoffed at that last remark, a coy smirk once again gracing her lips. “They’re a defunct player, essentially. It’s why they’re trusted with hosting all of us here. Sure, they might technically be the ones in charge of Elysian Industries... but everyone knows they no longer have any say in their own company’s activities. There’s a danger to be had in automating your workforce so thoroughly that you remove your own necessity from the equation. I mean, just look at what happened to HexCorp.”
A soft ringing noise resonated from each of the halos above the scribes’ heads. This would turn out to be an indicator that the party was over; gradually, the aristocracy slithered as one group towards the entranceway and, family by family, began to leave.
The doll had one last inquiry. “It was actually wondering about that last thing you mentioned, your Highness, about HexCorp. I was never able to uncover any details about its esteemed rulers. Where are HexCorp’s family?”
Its Mistress had already turned away to leave, and her doll quickly entered into pursuit. With a wave goodbye to the puppet master, she acknowledged the question snarkily. “My little butterfly, what a silly thing for you to ask. You can put two and two together. I’m sure you already know the answer.”