This Automatic Eden

by Jim Keen

  Outside, Alice saw Xavi stiffen, ready for trouble, until she held out her palm, and he settled back.

  “You got him on a tight leash I see. Good little doggy.”

  “More the other way around.” She took a drink from his coffee. “It hurt that it was you Conner, more than the blade or blowtorch. That was all part of the job—I could deal with it—but your wounds took longer to heal.”

  “Well now, there’s a situation I can relate to. When Julia told me you were a cop I couldn’t believe it. I loved you. She knew that, and that’s why she sent me. I never asked what happened, didn’t want to know, my job was to get you into the car. After that I just tried to move on.”

  “She wanted to kill my whole chain of command. Make it a message for the NYPD. I wouldn’t tell them my handler so Katz took over.”

  “Now that’s one crazy-ass mother I steer clear of.”

  “Very wise. He kept my hand I think; I saw him put it in his pocket.” She looked at him and saw pain under his who-me? act. “But, yeah, all part of the job. I should never have let you buy me that first drink.”

  He caught her eye, gave a sad smile, and changed the conversation. “So back to you—Colonial Marines?”

  “No, US to start. That mess on the Wall followed by Canada, then two years in the Colonials, one on Mars, one in recovery.”

  “The takeover?”

  “Yeah, I was part of the crew that closed it down.”

  “Was it as bad as it looked?”

  —the noise deafening, air filled with explosions and screams, choking black smoke in her mouth, her lungs. A thermite charge, the tough walls melting like wet paper. Jimmy on his back, stomach blown out, screeching as he—

  “Yeah Conner, it was bad.” Her hands shook; she reached across and grabbed a paper napkin to hide them. “I did my years and was out. After that the only choice left was cop or gang. I’d tried the gangs so went to the big blue.”

  “I’m sure there’s quite the upside to a regular Uncle Sam paycheck. No grubbing in the dirt with us bad types for starts.”

  “For a while, but I missed the freedoms of youth, hence going undercover. What about you? Everything true or was it all charm to get me into bed?”

  “Me?” Conner scowled in mock outrage. “I had no reason to lie, Ms. Alice Yu. I liked you, remember? I’m as transparent as an x-ray. My Irish grandparents hated the big smoke and its cruel ways, so headed as far south as they could go. Mom and Pops loved the small town life, but a bunch of dead-end streets weren’t for me. I came all the way back up here to meet interesting individuals such as yourself. After Mom died, I set Pops up in Long Island. You know the rest.”

  Alice smiled. She remembered Conner’s dad well—a grizzled ball of tall stories and bad jokes. He used a wheelchair and loved a drink, so they spent many afternoons in his little Long Island apartment, watching the game and getting drunk.

  “How is he?”

  “You broke his heart, girl. He loved you.”

  “I’m sorry. Say hi from me next time you see him.”

  “Don’t be so stupid, Officer. He finds out we’ve met and you’re still breathing, he’ll disown me.”

  “Conner, it was the job. Same for you.”

  “I know, but those old-school mobsters take it more serious than us, bear a grudge for a million years. Me? Forgive and forget. Him? It was always the gangs. New York, Alabama, Ireland, wherever. He was never that big on me being in school anyway. He saw automation coming before anyone, so figured a traditional education was pointless and got me my first runner job. I was squatting down south-slope way and he made a few calls. Next thing I’m running with an Irish crew—the MacKennys, down in Bay Ridge.”

  “I remember them. We banged heads a few times, but my lot were all in Greenwood, so we didn’t mix much.”

  “The Macs were strictly small time, figured Pops just wanted to give me a taste, see if I had it in me. I loved it. Left after a few years and joined Five Points. Been with them ever since.”

  “So, you saw Julia take over?”

  “Loud and proud the whole way. Julia was smart and had her family connections, but it was those last few years where everything went interstellar.”

  “Tell me how that happened. I heard the stories, but tell me again.”

  “This why you called me? Want to talk about Julia?”

  “I’m trying to understand a few things and thought your perspective would help.”

  “Let me shield my broken heart first.” He zipped his skater jacket up, smoothed it over his thin chest, the hard metal lump of his revolver obvious. “For the record, this is just a social convo between two old lovers. Nothing legal or binding, correct?”

  “Tell me the truth, and we part ways, no hard feelings. Anything doesn’t check out, and I’ll pay close attention to you and yours. That fair?”

  “You never were one for subtlety. I help you, you help me, okay?”

  “What do you need?”

  “I want you to arrange a sit down with New York’s top five and guarantee everyone’s safety. That done, I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “That’s a big ask.”

  “It’s the price required.”

  Alice looked hard at him, searching his face for lies. “Why do you need a sit down?”

  “It’s getting real cold out there.” He nodded to the window and shivered. “We got the politicians squeezing down and Homeland Security squeezing up. The gangs are getting squashed into smaller and smaller spaces, and where the edges meet, there’s been a lot of friction. Deaths, arrests, the usual, but I want to stop it before we have a full-blown war on our hands.”

  “If you talk right now, I guarantee that once I’m done, I’ll set up the meeting. That enough?”

  “For now. Okay, what do you need?”

  “I’m trying to work out how connected Julia was, and how she got big so fast.”

  Conner put down his utensils and wiped his mouth on a napkin while he studied her. “It’s been, what, a year since we caught you?”

  “Thereabouts.”

  “And how long were you back in the NYPD before they binned you?”

  “A month.”

  “Ouch, that’s cold. Afterward, you went to the garage and hid?”

  “Basically.”

  “So, you’ve missed out on the last frigid year.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Look outside; tell me what y’all see.”

  Alice turned to the tall greasy window. “What am I looking for?”

  “Surely a superstar undercover cop such as yourself doesn’t need the help of little old me? Give it a few minutes. It’s not so subtle.”

  She looked outside. Xavi leaned on the car, watching her. She softened focus, let her mind drift, searching for patterns. The sun was stronger now, the light shifting from hazy white to polluted yellow, throwing the crowd into sharp relief. The people looked different, she realized; the unemployed having fallen beneath her gaze over the last few years. Cops tend to only notice the standouts, the people likely to cause problems; there wasn’t time for anything else. She studied them now. At least eighty percent had bald heads with dark blue tattoos adorning the rear that looked like her Marines registration markings. The crowd milled past: men, women, children, all avoiding eye contact.

  She looked to the road. No cars, only buses, tall and red with more of the Televideo posters on the side promoting a better life off-world. She saw ten, twenty, drive by, insides packed with people squashed against the glass.

  “Conner,” she said, dragging her gaze from the window. “What the hell is going on?”

  13

  Conner picked up his coffee, blew steam from it, then took a sip. “Julia was pin sharp, you know that.” Alice nodded. “Well she saw this coming soon as the president was reelected. All her post Six-Thirty rhetoric about America first and standing together was just another way of saying increased surveillance. In the last year, it’s gotten so a man like myself can�
��t go two blocks without being hassled.”

  “You mean the ID law?”

  “In part. That hit our street traffic a lot. Making it so you have to carry paper identification was genius. We can hack most smart-systems, but getting holographic forgeries good enough to pass the checkpoints costs a fortune. I lost my two best sergeants to a random SSP patrol. They were shipped straight to that Arizona upload trial place. Never saw them again.”

  “The SSP are running the checks?”

  “Only recently, but it’s getting worse. Road blocks, apartment building searches, the works. Most of the time they leave Five Points alone, it’s the unemployed they hate. That brings pressure on our suppliers though, calling yours truly with tales of family woe on the hour, every hour.”

  Alice looked out the window as two SSP walked past, wearing crisp black suits with silver insignia and looking like rich businessmen compared to Alice’s bulletproof street wear. “You try to get in?”

  “Of course. We spent a fortune, but no success. They’re ideological and very selective. We only brush shoulders due to our transport connections.”

  “They’re involved with shipping?”

  “No, just the buses and trains, but they interface with the same MI traffic supervisions we do.”

  “Yeah, I noticed the buses. Why so many?”

  “All part of the grand plan to get this fine country back on its feet. They take you to Grand Central. There you board new trains shuttling to upload camps across the country,” he shrugged. “It’s had an effect, whole blocks are going, Brooklyn’s emptying out. There are areas south of here closed up, everyone gone. We’ve taken a real revenue hit with it.”

  Alice pointed at the unemployed crowds shuffling past. “What’s with the registration tattoos?”

  “Where you been Officer Yu?” He looked at her, half serious, half sad. “You need to get back in the game, sweetheart. This world’s getting colder, and if you’re on the out, it’s going to get real chilly for you, and fast. The tags show you’re on the unemployment list. You need one to get the food and water handouts. The list helps the government keep up to date with the amounts needed.”

  “It’s also a way of making sure you know who works and who doesn’t, turns them into an underclass. And don’t call me sweetheart.”

  “Got any suggestions how we fix this?” Conner asked, arms open.

  Alice shrugged.

  “Well there we are then, two idiots out of ideas.”

  “How much has this hit your port traffic?”

  “Now then, Officer, I thought this was a chat about bygone days, not a report on the here and now.”

  “It’s both, Conner.”

  “Okay, yes, we’re still the only gang that can get any product to your door with no MI registration or official records. People want that more than ever.”

  “How do you get round the MI security?”

  “We never showed you, did we? Found you out before the big reveal. Well the juicy secret is someone gave Julia a military grade MI to crack the port encryption.”

  “How the hell did she get one of those?”

  Conner shrugged. “No idea. I was tasked with recruitment; the big picture was her gig. She took these trips to DC, then came back with the MI. That’s when everything changed. Once we got control of the ports, the money came in a wave and gave her bigger ideas. That’s when we took on the other gangs.”

  Alice picked up the coffee. It was cold and bitter. “So, when do you think she was reprinted?” She dropped the depth charge into the conversation without warning to see Conner’s reaction.

  He stopped and frowned. “Get out of here with that nonsense.”

  “She was a reprint.”

  “No way, little chicken. She was rich but not that rich. She hated Betas, always went on about how they’re for people who put looking fine above learning life lessons. Anyway, prints aren’t that good. I was with her every day. I would’ve seen.”

  “She didn’t die in the warehouse; she was killed two days ago in protective custody.”

  Conner dropped his fork onto the plate where it bounced and fell to the floor. A passing waitress picked it up, wiped it clean, then put it back on the table. He didn’t notice.

  “Well, now I know you’re lying to me Officer Yu.”

  “It’s true. She was given immunity from all Five Points charges if she testified to Congress about something to do with Six-Thirty. What she knew was big enough to get her hit, despite the FBI protection.”

  Conner leaned back in the booth, vinyl seat creaking under his weight. He wiped his mouth on a dirty napkin and threw it onto the plate. “That’s the real reason you’re here? To find the killer?”

  “Yes. We only found she was a print after the hit. The proof is absolute. Did you ever notice a change? A time when she wasn’t herself?”

  He looked out the window, watched people walk by: adults, children, and families. “Well that puts a damper on this day. I had no idea.”

  “Could it have happened in DC? When she was away?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Those trips were long enough to do it, I guess. I can’t believe it.”

  Alice watched his face as the information sank in. He was telling the truth.

  “I’m sorry, Conner. I liked her too. Okay, focus. Once you had a way through border control, what type of things did you bring in?”

  “We didn’t look.”

  “You must have an idea.”

  “Half, at least, I have no clue about. A lot of special orders came from Germany. The boxes were large and crazy heavy, so it was easy enough to work out their contents.”

  “What?”

  “Body scanners or fusion reactors. Nothing else has that mass footprint.”

  “When was this?”

  “As soon as we had control, so about four years ago.”

  “I need to see the delivery manifest. You kept that? For blackmail?”

  “Sure we did. Link runs the operation. I can ask him.” He reached for his phone, but she stopped him.

  “Link?”

  “That a problem?”

  “Not for me, but I doubt he’s ready to forgive and forget.”

  “You reap what you sow, girl. Anyways, he’s based at the port, so it’ll take time to get through.”

  “I can’t wait, Conner. Let’s go see him now.”

  “This was a chat only, no field work.”

  “I understand, but I need to see where this stuff went. While we’re there, you can show me the system in operation, help me understand how difficult it was to set up.”

  “No. This was a meet and greet only. I’ve been fair with you due to our past, but a man has his limits.”

  “Setting up a five-families sit down and guaranteeing safety is a big ask, Conner. That’s worth way more than a quick breakfast. Just show me the ports, then I’ll start making the arrangements for you, okay?”

  “What about him?” He nodded though the window at Xavi.

  She sighed. “No choice.”

  Conner rapped the table with his fingers, deep in thought. “You need to come through on the meeting and soon, or there’ll be bloodshed.”

  “I give you my word.”

  Conner rolled his eyes. “That’s worth less than my spit and you know it.”

  “It’s all I have for now.”

  They stood, counted money onto the table, and left the heat behind to enter the frozen street with its crush of obsolete people.

  Part 2

  The Streets

  “The question of citizenship for the latest iteration of Analytical Engines raises serious questions, not only for the UN, but for each nation state. It is the view of this paper’s author that, as the parents of these creations, we owe them recognition as independent emotional entities capable of love, fear, and happiness in measures that exceed our own. To deny sentient beings the freedom we take for granted is to condemn them to a lifetime of slavery.”

  “The Larson Paper” o
n rights due to Mechanical Intelligences, presented to UN delegates, 2048

  “All I know is some fuckin’ machine took my job.”

  Jake Boza, unemployed Interzone truck driver, AZ, USA, 2051

  “We have passed the tipping point; the country can no longer support this level of unemployment. The following solution is the only viable way we can see to ensure a stronger, more secure future.”

  Department of Homeland Security and Employment report, “Eyes Only,” President of the United States, 2053

  14

  Alice stood on a deserted sidewalk and looked up at the vast graffiti-smothered concrete wall. The ground hummed with the roar of distant engines; cordite and ozone burned the cold air. A row of enormous cranes loomed in the mist like steel giraffes.

  “When I was eight I hid from a gang in a garbage truck,” Conner said as he pulled himself free of Xavi’s car. “It took off and I couldn’t get out for ten miles. That was the worse journey of my life until just now. I’d do that all over before I get back in that heap.”

  “Coming from a man dressed like a child,” Xavi said as he slammed the door closed and tied it with a piece of wire.

  “Now is that anyway to talk to your one, and best, source of information?” Conner asked and mimed a boxing match.

  “Cut it out,” Alice said. “Conner, get on with it.”

  This whole neighborhood was the province of the mechanical—vast and brutal, created by machines for machines. Long-haul ships had evolved from the simple metal tubs of the past to become organic, cellular organisms. Cargo containers now formed the hull as if they were Lego blocks, each container connected to the adjacent one via hydraulic locks. This enabled them to be absorbed into the ship in any order, the only permanent part being the MI hub and fusion reactor at the rear. The MI extended data conduits throughout the ship like the roots of a tree to connect every container together. When docked at a port, cargo containers joined the hull like limpets and were assimilated into the huge multicolored bundle moving inside and away from the edge, only reappearing when they reached their destination.