Introduction:

Greetings, dear reader. I aim to be brief. I’m excited to share my debut novel, Silicon Catalyst, a tale rooted in the science fiction genre, particularly within the cyberpunk realm. I plan to release portions of the novel daily and would greatly value any feedback or suggestions you may have. As this is my initial venture into published fiction, your insights would mean a lot to me. Rest assured, the novel is complete; what you will see is merely an editorial review. So, let's dive in...

> “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” > > —Arthur C. Clarke’s Three Laws.

Prologue:

I can't endure this another day. For too long, my life has felt meaningless, and today, it was brutally confirmed. The Dark Agents came and executed my husband. No reasoning, no trial—just a violent intrusion followed by a lethal shot to the head. They even broke his neck before the Mist could mend his injuries. What am I to do now? I can’t return to the same corporation that took my husband’s life. Since the corporations seized control of the world, everything has spiraled into chaos. I’ve never felt more unsafe. If only I could discover some semblance of peace. Despite countless ways to connect with others, I find myself utterly alone in my grief. I’m grateful I never had children; no child deserves to be raised in this environment.

We have traded past wars fought with missiles and soldiers for a present where anyone could be an enemy. Flags and borders have lost their significance; only the interests of corporations matter. There is no divine presence, only the Corporation. Ultimately, if you wish to die, you must purchase your freedom from them by having your chip removed—or, if you’re among the fortunate few without chips, you can live a fleeting, glorious existence in the slums that accompany every major city.

The Corporations have purportedly saved Earth by eradicating pollution and disease, but they have stripped away our freedom and individuality. Can happiness exist in a world where personal identity is lost? I think not, and I’m prepared to stake my life on this belief...

Worldnet User 841000x: lost chip single 2:00 AM Central Time. Chicago, Illinois: GB Limited District 2110. January 2557...

Chapter 1: Jade

Jade often reminisced about a time before WorldNet, before implants, chips, and Mist. She recalled the rolling fields and the dark shadows looming over cities, which felt ominous. Those emotions seem foreign now, belonging to a distant past. Despite the absurdity, she knew these memories were real. The mind, even with enhancements, tends to obscure essential memories. For Jade, her life prior to her first Mist injection felt like someone else's experience—somewhere far away, consistent with her age. Jade had surpassed the norm and embraced her circumstances, unlike many of her peers who either resisted or couldn’t afford the new technologies. Though not wealthy, she had always been an open-minded early adopter, propelling her forward in life.

Jade was uncertain about how the Masters functioned. Most people regarded them similarly to common gadgets, assuming they’d work until they ceased to. Few ventured to understand their mechanics beyond the basics. Even the fundamentals of Mist were as obscure as a car’s manual.

The Net was what motivated her to rise each morning. Occasionally, solar flares or severe storms disrupted it, limiting access for hours while technicians worked to restore it. During those downtimes, Jade often found herself diving into stored videos, novels, or files, trying to ignore the anxiety of potential prolonged outages. Yet, restoration always happened. In a different era, society might have deemed this reliance unhealthy—akin to the discussions surrounding social media in the 21st century or television in the 20th. Yet, dependency on the Net felt as routine as eating or drinking—nothing out of the ordinary.

While she had experimented with facial augmentations, they always made her feel like a stranger. Thus, she accepted her natural self—beautiful and in excellent shape for her age, but not perfect in a culture that often ostracized those who didn’t meet ideal standards. While this initially troubled her, she believed that success would ultimately overshadow any concerns about her appearance.

Jade took a position at GB Limited after rejecting two other corporations, creating advertising content primarily for entertainment networks. Her job involved prompting users to update their programs, often quickly forgotten by those feeling oppressed by corporate control. While she thought this issue affected only a small fraction of users, in reality, it could impact hundreds of millions. Amid the global initiative to send a mission to Mars, there was a fleeting sense of unity, necessitating that any issues be suppressed or eliminated.

This resulted in long hours of staring at various User Interface screens, making trivial decisions such as choosing between kittens or puppies for campaigns. Despite the monotony, her work paid well, allowing her to move into an upscale Chicago apartment with views of parks constructed by GB Limited. These parks housed various animals, and the security measures were discreet, allowing nature to run its course. For many city dwellers who had never witnessed such wildlife, the rawness of nature was more shocking than any documentary.

GB Limited occupied a towering skyscraper, the largest black building in the city, second only to the Sunnatony Building in New San Francisco. Employees from both companies insisted their respective buildings were the true tallest, leading to friendly rivalries.

Previously, Jade had worked for less reputable companies, often subsidiaries of larger corporations. Much of her past employment involved data entry or advertising inquiries. This new position felt like a significant advancement. She often wondered why Artificial Intelligence wasn’t employed more widely—perhaps it was deemed too unpredictable. However, that was above her pay grade, so she chose not to dwell on it.

Jade’s mornings began like any other until the day that would change everything. The press would later label it “The Incident,” but for her, it marked a pivotal moment. She woke abruptly at 7 AM, regretting her alarm choice, which provoked panic instead of joy. Once, panic was the only thing that jolted her awake, but those days were behind her. She entered the bathroom, where sonic scrubbers began cleansing her of any dirt or bacteria, their sensations both familiar and unsettling.

Dressed in her dark suit and heels, she savored warm, expensive Japanese coffee, catching up on messages while eating cereal. She then departed for her car, taking the multi-tiered lift to the ground level. While waiting, she scrolled through local and global news, flashing images and texts appearing on her screen. These quick snippets were likely only comprehensible to users with Master Chips, highlighting the necessity of such devices for average individuals, who enjoyed cognitive enhancements. Jade wondered if claims about intelligence differences were mere propaganda from corporations eager to sell more chips.

Cars were costly, and she was leasing hers with hopes of purchasing it once her salary from GB Limited came through. The air-conditioned interior felt stark against the warm outside, and she activated the auto-navigation feature for her commute.

Manual driving was still an option, but most opted for the automated service. Failing to use it could result in automatic liability during accidents. Freedom, it seemed, came at a price.

The roads were functional yet uninspiring, shaped by increasing populations and dwindling spaces. Corporate entities often ignored the pressing issues, insisting on the need for preservation after a global climate disaster that claimed nearly a billion lives and left countless others homeless. Jade had only seen this devastation in the History Matrix, but it looked like a harrowing era.

Residential buildings now towered over 200 stories, stacking on top of one another. Though she sometimes gazed at the streets, this day was different. Instead, she immersed herself in messages, videos, or the occasional nap. Typically, the commute lasted about ten minutes, and she often dozed off until the lift doors opened, signaling her arrival at work. On this day, however, traffic crawled at a snail's pace, and she dozed off, only to be jolted awake by the sound of her car being lifted into the air. Panic surged through her as a horrific noise enveloped her.

In a state of alarm, she managed to pull the door open and turned to see a bullet train barreling toward her vehicle. Survival seemed impossible, so she leaped for her life, colliding with a guardrail. The impact snapped her neck, and the train severed both legs.

Dimly, she sensed the Mist beginning their work. These microscopic entities—part machine, part organic—crafted by major corporations, were controlled by a master chip implanted in everyone’s brain. The Mist offered a form of virtual immortality, healing injuries and curing diseases. As long as one’s master chip remained operational for no more than five minutes, a person with such a chip would not succumb to natural or most unnatural causes. However, as Jade felt the familiar itch accompanying Mist treatments, she noticed someone looming over her, engaged in a conversation—perhaps via a traditional phone. Oddly, she pondered, “Do people still use those?”

In dire circumstances, her thoughts drifted to peculiarities. She soon became acutely aware of a presence invading her mind, an unsettling sensation wrapping around her thoughts. Panic surged within her, stifling her ability to scream, and then everything went dark—neither a dream nor a sleep—just an abrupt void.

When Jade regained consciousness, she understood that her Master Chip was rebooting, while the Mist had nearly completed healing her injuries. Regenerating legs took time, but the pervasive presence of the Mist expedited the process. Recreating existing tissue was feasible; however, her true concern was the nagging suspicion that her Master Chip had been replaced with another. She recognized subtle differences, like a changed user interface, and when she thought of personal memories—family photos, videos—nothing remained. Her core memories were intact; she was still Jade Alare, but a version lacking her Master Chip. Reports of such occurrences had circulated regarding diplomats or executives, but for an advertising professional? It felt overwhelming.

As the perfunctory medical staff arrived, likely to verify her Mist was functioning, Jade experienced a profound sense of despair, one she’d never felt before. It was a profound panic, a caged anxiety trying to escape, but her body felt paralyzed. Despite her mind's turmoil, her physical form lay in shock. More traumatic than the accident was the invasive sensation that her most intimate belongings had been violated—not her body, but her essence—everything so personal that it resided within her. She felt irrevocably changed.

And she was right...