by Jim Keen
“And?”
“There’s no one here.”
“All obvious but better. Yes, dear, you’re the very first human on Europa; this bubble is from one of the MI printing factories sent out years ago. If you saw thousands of people being scanned and there is no one here, what does that suggest?”
“They went somewhere else?”
“Are you aware of any sudden mass appearances in the system?”
“No, but the video signals coming back to Earth could’ve been edited to hide the truth.”
“True, but every colony needs to know how many people are coming so they can balance energy and material needs. To accept millions of people would require a massive step up in infrastructure; even if Homeland Security could intercept every communication, the increased size of the habitats would be visible from Earth. There are no mass transmissions going out into the system that I am aware of.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Four said. “But I think it’s time we found out.”
51
Alice walked to the print and scan room alone, the whine of the MI accompanying her as she collected her thoughts. The president—maybe the entire government—was corrupt, and something was happening she didn’t understand. But what to do? Crack Paulie out of jail, tell Conner, Xavi, and Toko to flee? But if this was as big as Four hinted at, where to go? Earth would be too small, so out into the system then, but was any off-world life real? What if it was all fake apart from the few moles left on Mars?
Besides, she couldn’t walk away from this; her parents, the foster system, and then the NYPD had all abandoned her. In each case, she’d been thrown to the curb, left behind, and she would never do that to anyone else. The NYPD gave her a purpose again—find Julia’s killer and bring them to justice. The president had ordered Julia’s assassination. Finish the job, close the case, then run if she had to.
Alice entered the print room to find Four waiting by the scanner.
Four waved at the machine and bent over the scanner’s upload controls. “Get in.”
Alice removed her gown and looked one last time at the weird body she was wearing, all elbows and bone. “Will I remember any of this?”
“Yes, and you shouldn’t experience any déjà vu or body image issues.”
The iris door of the scanner slid open, and Alice struggled to pull herself in. “Help me?”
“I’m not really here, dear; you’re talking to yourself. Best you do it.”
Alice snorted and dragged herself into the white ceramic cylinder. Four was right, this body felt normal to her now. She settled back on the thin foam tray and listened to the machine spin up around her. Alice was alone now, completely in the hands of the splinter MI.
Her breathing slowed, and she closed her eyes.
In the central observation bubble, the thin, odd-looking body sagged back in its seat, eyes open to gather dust as the brass cuboid attached to its head sent an encrypted signal to Earth. The MI guessed Alice wouldn’t want to know her corpse would be left to mummify on this strange moon so hadn’t told her, instead running a scanner simulation to soothe the human consciousness. The splinter took one last look around, sighed to itself, then deactivated.
The broadcast moved at the speed of light to the local relay station where it was collated, error checked, then transmitted to the next station on the chain back to Earth. Four was intelligent and experienced; knew there was a chance of signal corruption out here, but accepted the risk. The decision to get Alice out of Arizona had been taken at the last possible moment and was an educated gamble, one that now failed.
There were four relays to navigate on the return. The first three were benign and standard issue; the fourth was different. A rogue MI had seduced and corrupted it, and now it contained its own splinter mind looking for one thing: data packets that contained code direct from another MI. As Four’s signal passed through, it injected new information into the transmission.
Information that would be assimilated and grow.
Information that would change everything.
52
Alice opened her eyes to face the ceramic interior of a printer—a newer model than the one on Europa—and a panel reading cortex experimental prototype 9 in small Helvetica text. Her memory of Europa, and her strange body there, was clear but without emotion. That had been a tool to use and discard. She raised her head to look down at her new torso; she was young again, the body of her youth returned to her. It appeared baseline human but was vastly different internally. Its plastic heart pumped synthetic blood at a steady forty beats per minute while her lungs filtered oxygen more efficiently than any normal person.
As she waited, her clock spun up and came online, soft warmth spreading into her optimized circulatory system. The clock interlaced with her cerebrum, and her senses acquired a hyperreal texture as if she felt every atom, saw every photon. She rubbed her fingertips together, the synthetic high-friction skin rough like sandpaper, the noise a loud rustle in her enhanced ears.
A green cursor glowed to life in her lower-right view:
> Alice_Yu: (system loading …)
(system online)_(commence system check Y / N?)
Alice’s thought was instantaneous: Yes
(system check initiated …)
(running …)
(complete: review?)
> Yes
(neural clock gen.2)_(active at 5%)
(cooling system)_(active at 10%, blood work shunt to epidermis heat exchangers online and ready to accept load)
(skeleton chassis)_(carbon ceramic system active at 100% integrity)
(ligaments / joints)_(composite and kevlar supports at 100%)
(cardiovascular system)_(nerve and poison filtration system at 100%)
(integrated weapon delivery system)_(at 100%)
(backup power)_(at 100% viable for 15 minutes nonorganic survivability environment)
(awaiting instruction set)
She flexed her long fingers, bunching her hands into fists. She knew, without having to check, that her muscle and skeletal structures were so advanced she could punch through body armor, that her cardiovascular system could work with no oxygen for fifteen minutes, that her liver verged on MI complexity and could detox most modern poisons in seconds. Her body was a state-of-the-art weapon, the best modern printing could produce. It was also totally illegal, no external tags anywhere.
Add that to my list of crimes, she thought with a smile.
Her clock was the latest Generation Two system with double the speed and half the heat of the Generation One’s; her revised circulatory system mapped her body with hundreds of heat exchangers. These sat just beneath her skin ready to dump excess energy or match the exterior temperature for stealth mode. She had perfect recall, could run for hours, and the thought of a cigarette revolted her.
Alice sent a thought to unlock the printer, and with a faint bump, the tray slid free. She swung her new legs across and onto the warm wood floor and stood. The room looked like a high-end spa built from warm yellow oak with long, low bench seats and a row of rich white gowns hung from brass hooks. Incense filled the air, and soft ambient music drifted from hidden speakers. Alice donned a gown, every bump of the smooth cotton harsh across her skin. On the far wall was a full-length mirror. The body she knew from a decade ago stared back.
A feeling of memories coalesced. A look inside showed new data packets waiting to be interlinked—some tagged with names and dates, others had warning symbols and concerned her childhood. She added them to a local archive, unopened, and studied the room.
She was ready to leave when an electronic chime dinged behind her. She turned to see a second room with another printer. As she watched, it completed its charge, and the door cracked upward.
Alice stepped over to meet the new arrival.
53
Julia opened her eyes to see the ceramic interior of a printer. A panel read cortex experimental prototype 8 in small Helvetica
text. She felt the same as when she’d entered the scanner, Mark knocking on the outside to offer support. A green curser blinked to life in her lower-right vision as her mind expanded. A thought sent text scrolling across her view:
>Julia_Rothmore: (system loading …)
Julia hoped this was worth it—not that she had any real choice. She needed money to settle her father’s debts, and organized crime was the only business in town. If she wanted to turn Five Points around, she needed access to prohibited equipment, and that was where her uncle came in. She hadn’t expected his connections to extend all the way to the president, but once he’d reached out, there was no going back. President Harper’s demands were clear: be reprinted, submit to her leadership, and Julia would have everything she needed to take New York. That creep Takamatsu promised the clock was a wonderful, safe invention, but he was too in love with his machines to see their flaws. She didn’t trust him or his opinions.
> (system online)_(internal priority message)_(full response required)
Julia gave an inward sigh. She hadn’t been back in the land of the living for five minutes and already the president was calling in her debt. She accepted the message and watched as the huge data file flowered in her mind.
> (memory patch for years 2046–2049)_(encryption @ 50*local)
As the file processed, Julia realized the world as she knew it had changed in the three years since her scanning. Anger flared as she read about her first reprint’s bad decisions, then a sad resignation took its place. More than ever, she knew she didn’t want the responsibility of running Five Points, that the simple life of a portrait painter would give her all she ever needed. It seemed fate had a different plan.
The printer’s lid retracted to reveal someone waiting, a woman she recognized from the clock’s briefing file. Julia slid naked from the printer and stood to face Alice. This had been a woman her reprint had trusted, a woman who betrayed her and been tortured in return. A fair trade perhaps. She extended her hand.
“I would like to say, whether it was deserved or not, I’m sorry about the torture. That was another version of me.” Julia watched surprise cross the other woman’s face; she wasn’t expecting to see me, she realized.
“I hear you got it worse,” Alice replied and shook Julia’s hand.
“From the files Seven provided it seems I’ve spent last year watching daytime TV and being nagged by the FBI until, boom, I’m dead. A rather sad ending, all things considered.” Julia gave a quiet laugh. Her body felt dislocated, as if she were operating it though manipulators.
“Who is Seven?”
“I thought you knew him? Isn’t he your MI contact?”
Alice frowned and shook her head.
“He’s this little boy with white hair, said his full name was Well, Here’s Another Nice Mess You’ve Gotten Me Into. He lost a bet so had to talk to me.”
“The only one I’ve met is an old woman called Four. She’s the one that killed you, though that was under orders.”
“Sounds like a smart one.” Julia’s emotions, so raw upon accessing the memory files, settled as she assimilated the data. “I guess I should be angry about my death, but it did happen to someone else. I understand you and I were close, for example, but even with the updated memory files, it’s …” Julia frowned. “My clock is saying these new memories will fully integrate, but it’ll take time. I won’t know the difference between that Julia’s memories and my own in a few days. This would’ve been rather helpful at Harvard.”
“Book smarts won’t help anymore. The MIs have broken their protocols; there’s nothing holding them back now. We’re a few weeks from irrelevance.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Julia said lifting her arms over her head; the flesh was warm and pink under the ceiling lights. “Look at us; we are spectacular.”
As she stretched, new parts of her came online. She’d always possessed the ability to communicate across social, racial, and educational boundaries. Born of rich and powerful stock, yes, but during her time as a painter, she’d found ways to see under people’s skin, to find their soul, such as it was, and bring it forth. It was that skill which made her such a powerful leader. Seven’s genetic manipulation had made that side of her even more powerful.
“I’m full of communication and encryption hardware,” Julia said. “I assume you have upgrades as well?”
“Yeah, I’m like a tank covered with skin.”
“There you are then, we both have a future, so let’s not be too down about it. Organic and mechanical were always destined to interlink, so we’ve a competitive edge being in at the start. I suggest we—”
“Well, well, would you look at this. Can it be? Is it true or do my tired old eyes deceive me?” Conner stood in the doorway, skater clothes out of place in the calm luxury. He gave his trademark big-toothed grin. “Back from the dead I do believe. Now that makes you two fine-looking zombies to me.”
Warmth filled Julia, an emotion that flowed from her assimilating data files. This man had been loyal, no matter the task, and she’d approved of his relationship with Alice. She turned to the other woman. “Are you and he still an item?”
“No,” Alice said. “That finished a long time ago.”
“Any good?”
“He was fun but not the finished article.”
“Yo, I’m right here,” Conner drawled and waved at them.
“So, before we get started, no problem between you and I?” Julia asked Alice.
“None. It’s great to see you again.” Alice stepped forward, and they hugged hard and tight while Conner gave an ironic round of applause.
“Y’all will not believe where we are,” he said with whoop.
54
Alice followed Conner to see that her initial impression was right; they were in the type of high-end hotel that was so far out of her price range it might as well be on another planet. The breakfast room was larger than her apartment building and continued the theme of Scandinavian luxury. Laminated timber beams glowed like amber under discreet lighting; a pitched roof rose from the entrance to cap a wall made from three huge glass sheets. Outside, a snow-covered mountain dropped away from the view. Every few minutes, a skier flashed past, flanked by security personnel; this was a resort for the Ones.
Alice sat with Julia and Conner at a long oak table. Conner wore his usual faded skateboarder outfit while Julia had dressed in a smart blue suit. Alice was back in a bulletproof NYPD leather jacket and jeans. Four and Seven had ordered a full wardrobe for them along with their reprinting.
“So, what’s the deal, Conner?” Alice asked as she sipped strong black coffee. It was rich and wonderful in its texture; her new senses scanned the room while she talked. Conner’s cologne reminded her of fun nights out; voices murmured from the kitchen hidden behind a soundproof wall; air pressure changes stroked her skin as doors opened and closed around her.
Connor shrugged. “Y’all did not put me in the need-to-know loop.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s try that again dumbass, and concentrate this time. How did you know where we were? Why aren’t you in New York looking after Toko?”
“First, that cat needs no supervision whatsoever. Second, he’s in charge of Five Points while I put my feet up and breakfast.”
Julia cut across them and leaned over the table. “Who is this Toko person? Why is he in charge? What are you doing Conner?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Conner gave a small nod. “Y’all been away a whiles, and we’ve been under duress in your absence. Toko Morris is an NYPD legend, lots of street smarts, sees traps before they trigger. The kinda person to keep on our side I reckoned.”
“Leverage?” Julia asked.
“Has a family, and the NYPD don’t offer no future for us humans. He gets it, and has an eye on the next step. Smart, well trained, aggressive. You’d like him.”
“Good. You may continue,” Julia said.
“Ain’t changed much, has she?” Conner said as he gav
e Alice a sly wink and huge smile.
“Just get on with it,” Alice sighed.
“Four got in touch, as sweet as you like, and told me to meet you here. So I trot over, obedient to a fault. She wanted me to give you this.” Conner reached into a pocket of his thrasher shorts and withdrew a small block of carbon. He placed it on the table where it spoke in a quiet, discreet voice.
“Hello, Alice, Julia. This is Four and Seven,” Four’s old voice whispered from the box. “This device will encrypt our calls and keep the transmission below certain detection parameters.”
“Thanks, Four. I—” Alice began.
Conner nodded over Alice’s shoulder to cut her off. “He’s with you, right?”
She turned to see Xavi standing there in his denim jacket and jeans. He looked thin and exhausted; heavy creases lined his face. He gave her a tired smile, and her plastic heart kicked a notch. She jumped up and smothered him in a hug.
“Glad to see you’re having a good time while my ass is on the run.” His breath tickled her ear, his body stiff and hard—like hugging a railroad tie. Then it softened. “Good to see you too, Alice. Now let me go.”
She stepped back to look at him with more care. “What is it?”
“Four got me up to speed. The president killed Julia, and was cleaning up afterward.”
“Seems that way.”
“She killed Maria, covering her tracks.”
“Yes.”
“Remember our conversation?”
She did: Xavi telling her he’d kill whoever ordered the hit; Alice saying no, that criminals had to be brought to justice. But that was before she knew who their opponent was; she couldn’t think of anyone more dangerous or able to bend the law.
“Yeah, I remember,” she said.
“Picked a side?”
“The law is the only thing keeping us from anarchy, Xavi. We can’t ignore it.”
“I goddam knew it.” He pushed her away. “Think she follows it, huh? You going to protect her from me?”
