Ensemble

by D. B. Goodin

  “Hey, I could use one of those,” Barry said as he pointed at Alice’s drink.

  Scotty shrugged, then sat down on the couch. “Help yourself,” he said.

  The Goth Queen took the heart-shaped bottle and a glass and poured herself a generous portion. Barry moved the chair back so the Goth Queen could sit at the table.

  “Okay, now that we are getting refreshed, let’s get down to business,” Scotty began. “In a few minutes, we will go into the next room for a demonstration. Just be sure to leave the drinks in this room. In case you don’t know, I’m proposing that we use a weapon known as a directed electromagnetic pulse—EMP for short—to disrupt the robots—”

  “Is it a bomb?” Alice interrupted Scotty.

  “Yes. It’s non-lethal to humans, but the robots may not survive,” Scotty replied.

  “How are you going to destroy the robots without damaging other things, like visors?” she asked.

  “The EMP—I call it an E-Bomb—can be adjusted to emit low-level pulses that will scramble the robots’ brains like eggs, but it’s not strong enough to destroy them. If the E-Bomb ignites at full intensity, then all electronics will be fried like a fly in a bug zapper, but human life will be unaffected.”

  “What settings are you going to use?” Alice asked. “I mean, how intense is it going to be?”

  “I want to get the most bang for our buck and cause the most damage, so I think medium damage should be the goal,” Scotty said.

  “What will happen to everyone’s electronics with the medium-damage scenario?” Alice asked.

  Scotty gave Alice a suspicious look, then said, “Corrupt their computer data, but it’s not strong enough to cause severe damage to the electronics.”

  “Why do you care if a few visors get fried?” Barry asked. “If they are attending a concert full of synths, then they deserve to get their electronics damaged.”

  “Because I don’t want someone’s pacemaker to get fried and die, you schmuck!” Alice said, glaring at Barry defiantly.

  Scott gave Alice an apprising look. “That is an excellent point! I don’t think the medium-damage setting will affect pacemakers, but I will make sure that I account for that variable,” Scotty said as he rubbed his chin.

  No one said anything for a long time. Alice noticed that one of Scotty’s legs was trembling.

  “It’ll be fine, no one will die,” Scotty said, waving a hand as if that would dismiss Alice’s concerns. “Well, enough talk. Anyone want to see it in action?”

  “Alice, don’t let them harm me!” Doris said.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t,” Alice replied in a low voice.

  Doris has become too valuable to fry her like a fly in a bug zapper.

  “Do you have a viewing both or something? I don’t want my visor damaged—I can’t afford another one, and I’ve had some data problems,” Alice said.

  “I have a shielded room, but you won’t be able to see much, and I need you to see how it works. Might I suggest that you leave your visor in that room . . . just in case?” Scotty said. Alice nodded.

  Scotty led everyone into a darkened open area. He pointed to a small room about the size of a broom closet. “You can deposit any sensitive electronics in there,” he said.

  Alice put her visor and phone in the shielded room, then joined Scotty in a large open area with several markings on the floor with something cylindrical standing in the middle. As Alice got closer to the center of the room, she realized this was Scotty’s staging area. The loft appeared to be constructed of wood, with several concrete pillars. Except for the metal cylindrical object, the loft was bare. The cylinder was about two feet tall and a foot wide; it looked like a small bollard. A square outline of electrical tape surrounded the cylinder.

  “The cylindrical object you see before you contains the payload for the E-Bomb,” Scotty said.

  “That seems close to us—it’s maybe ten feet away?” Alice said, sounding concerned.

  “It’ll be alright,” Scotty said. “Make sure you stay behind the square outline—the E-Bomb is not lethal to humans, but there may be some discomfort if you get too close while it’s active. Oh . . . and that reminds me, does anyone have any implants, or cybernetic interfaces?”

  “No way, I like to keep it pure!” Alice said.

  “Oh, I like the sound of that,” Barry teased.

  Alice rolled her eyes.

  “Good—I’d hate to cause any pain by frying any electronics you might have integrated into your flesh. I will use the medium setting; it will be an excellent test.”

  “Do you even have a test subject?” Alice asked.

  “I have a subject ready to go. Now stand behind the line, and wear these.”

  Scotty handed everyone a pair of safety goggles.

  “Okay, is everyone ready?” he asked. “I’m starting the test in thirty seconds.”

  Moments later, Alice watched as the cylinder moved upward, exposing circuitry at the base; Alice thought she saw a purple glow emitting from it. A loud humming noise seemed to penetrate the room. Alice felt dizzy, her head throbbed. She took in a few deep breaths.

  There’s no reason to be anxious—it’s just a test, Alice told herself as she tried to slow her breathing.

  “You can come in now,” Scotty yelled.

  Loud thumping sounds and vibrations seemed to be coming from the cylinder. Seconds later, Alice saw something appear in a doorway at the opposite side of the room; she saw a shadow of something pause for a second before continuing its forward march toward the cylinder. The figure resembled a human female that . . . was injured! The figure stumbled, caught herself, and then dragged a foot that no longer functioned. The closer she got to the cylinder, the weaker she appeared.

  She looks familiar. Who is that?

  “What am I . . . doing here?” the female figure said.

  The figure came closer toward the cylinder, then stumbled and fell.

  “Ms. Augustine?” Alice asked.

  “You know who I am? Where am I?” Ms. Augustine said as she raised her head.

  “Now!” Scotty yelled as he hit a button on a remote control.

  The purple glow became brighter; Scotty was fiddling with the device. Alice grabbed her head—the pain!

  “Sing for us, baby!” Scotty demanded.

  Ms. Augustine gave Scotty a pleading look. “Then you will let me go?” she asked.

  Scotty smiled. “Yes, I will let you leave.”

  Ms. Augustine straightened herself, then started singing her usual song that started with “Ooh . . . ooh . . . ooh,” then she froze for a long moment. She resumed her singing. Her usual loud soprano voice sounded distorted, like there was radio interference. The difficulties seemed to make the robot more determined; she sang louder before her voice demodulated into static. Moments later, she collapsed into a heap.

  Alice watched in shock. Is that smoke coming from her body?

  “I kept my promise, my dear. I let you leave your mortal coil behind,” Scotty said as he stopped the test.

  “What just happened?” Alice asked.

  “Our test subject is an advanced synthetic person, or robot. She was designed to be a performer. I set the EMP level to a medium level, but she was still functioning, so I had to increase it another level before she collapsed,” Scotty said.

  “Where did you get Ms. Augustine?”

  “Barry helped with that,” Scotty said in an amused tone.

  Alice looked in Barry’s direction. “Did you kidnap her?”

  “It’s not kidnaping . . . she’s not human. I just borrowed her—I thought you would be happy,” Barry said, trying to look innocent.

  “I saw her with Brenton Morris, the CEO of MuseFam—I think she’s his personal robot, and he will look for her. She will have some kind of tracking device on her,” Alice said.

  “Barry used a head-covering made of wire mesh when he captured her to block the signal, so there shouldn’t be a trace of her after the Brooklyn Bridge,” S
cotty said.

  “Don’t worry, I will have her back at MuseFam HQ tonight,” Barry said.

  “Are you going to fix her first?” Alice asked.

  “Nah—MuseFam built her, let them fix her,” Barry said.

  “I have to do some more testing, but this experiment was a success. I just need to make a few adjustments, and then I will install the E-Bomb close to MuseFam Hall a day or two before the event,” Scotty said.

  “Close to MuseFam Hall? Where, exactly?” Alice asked.

  “On the roof, near the metal dome. It will be easier to conceal there, and the dome will act as an amplifier,” Scotty said.

  “What do you need from us?” the Goth Queen asked.

  “Keep spreading the truth that synthetics are flawed and not worthy of playing for a human audience,” Scotty said.

  Alice looked at her watch. She had forgotten to take it off. The display was a jumbled mess.

  Better leave Doris at home—or at least be at a safe distance—when this thing gets activated.

  “It’s getting late, guys, I think I will leave,” Alice said.

  “We will take you back to the city,” the Goth Queen said.

  Scotty put a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Barry grabbed Ms. Augustine’s body and slung her over his shoulder as he headed downstairs toward the parked hearse, Alice and the Goth Queen trailing behind.

  6

  Alice arrived at Newark Heights well after 11:00 p.m. She would have been home sooner, but she didn’t want Barry knowing her place of residence, even if it was temporary. She didn’t mind taking the train; it gave her time to think about her next move.

  Alice entered Lindsey and Brian’s house. She was so tired, but since she had skipped dinner, she was also very hungry.

  Alfred must be starving.

  She hadn’t been able to call Lindsey and ask her to feed Alfred. If only had I remembered to charge my phone, Alice thought.

  Alice didn’t have the latest in visor technology, so she relied on her phone or Wi-Fi to activate the visor’s communications system. Since she bought the cheapest model, it didn’t include MeshNet access: a technology that allowed her visor to use the city’s data network.

  She was about to open her bedroom door when she noticed a note on the door that read:

  I fed Alfred.

  We need to talk!

  Lindsey

  * * *

  Thanks, Lindsey, Alice thought. I knew I could count on you, even though I have been a terrible mother to Alfred.

  As soon as she opened the door, Alfred ran toward her and started rubbing against her. Alice picked him up and carried him to a nearby chair. It had been days since she had spent quality time with her cat.

  “I know it’s been a while. I promise to spend more time with you,” Alice said.

  Alfred purred as she connected her visor to the home network. As soon as she did, Doris began yammering at a faster-than-normal pace.

  “Alice, what happened? You went incommunicado for a few hours,” Doris said.

  “Sorry, my phone’s battery died.”

  “We need to upgrade your visor so you can get rid of that old technology.”

  “This?” Alice held the phone to her visor. “It’s old, but reliable.”

  “I’m sure you will be interested to know that they repealed the AI Copyright Repeal Act.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “They reported it more than an hour ago. The news report mentioned that a local law firm was pivotal in winning the case.”

  There’s nothing stopping MuseFam now!

  “Which firm represented MuseFam?”

  After a few moments, Doris said, “The news referenced the law firm Parker and Sutherland. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “That’s Brian’s firm. I’m sure that’s what his ‘Big Case’ is,” Alice said.

  Alice walked down the wide hallway to the kitchen, and then proceeded to raid Lindsey’s refrigerator. She took a mini-pizza, about the size of a coaster, out of the freezer and put it in the oversized oven. She pressed the “Prepare Now” button. A timer started counting down from five minutes, and a warm yellow light emitted from the oven.

  “You have ten unheard messages. Would you like me to play any of them?”

  “Who are they from?”

  “Three are from Lindsey, two from Charlie, one from Lawrence, one from Nigel, another from Oscar, and two from Simon.”

  “Play the Lindsey messages first,” Alice said.

  The first two of Lindsey’s messages comprised of “Call me,” and “We need to talk.”

  Is she going to kick me out?

  She played the message from Oscar next.

  “Alice, how are you holding up? Did you forget that your stuff is in my storage locker? I need to give it back in a few weeks. Just didn’t want to spring it on you at the last minute. Call me—let’s catch up sometime.”

  She listened to the message from Nigel as she put her dinner on a plate and started wolfing down the pizza.

  “Alice, this is Nigel Watson. With Simon’s help, I was about to restore the lost funds. We were also able to track down the hacker. Call me and I will explain.”

  Alice checked her balance; the original $3,054.22 balance—minus a $12 account maintenance fee—left her with $3,042.22 in her account. Alice breathed a sigh of relief.

  I will do something nice for Nigel—take him for a steak dinner or something.

  The messages from Simon were a waste of time; they were apologies that lasted longer than Alice wanted to listen. She deleted them before reaching the end.

  She called Nigel back. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Alice?” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s been a strange couple of days.”

  “I hear you, kid. You know, Simon feels terrible about what happened to your account. It’s not the kid’s fault, yet he takes the blame.”

  For a brief second, she felt sorry for Simon.

  “You said you had news about a hacker?” Alice asked.

  “Yeah, I did some digging on the dark web and found some leads on our nefarious friend, your tracker . . . He goes by the pseudonym Mister K.”

  “What? The dark web?”

  It perplexed Alice that someone would go as far as hiring someone from the dark web to track her down. She had heard of large criminal organizations with ties to the dark web, but other than that, she didn’t know much more about it.

  “The dark web is where all the nasty business takes place on the net. If you want someone dead—or if you want to relive someone’s last moments on earth via an illegal implant—then the dark web is the place to go.”

  Alice felt cold. If I am attracting this kind of attention, then I pissed off someone powerful.

  “And Mister K? Any idea who this creep is?” she asked.

  “I hacked one of the dark web bulletin board systems and could trace his movements to a MORP exit node right here in New York City.”

  “Okay, what does that mean?” Alice asked.

  “It means that after some long hours and Simon’s help, I could track his actual identity. His legal name is Hansen Kirsch, and he lives in Brooklyn.”

  “Can we call the cops on this guy?”

  “That would be ill-advised—but we have a genuine opportunity here.”

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “I started tracking his activities. I’m hoping that I can find evidence of who hired him.”

  Brian was acting strange at the courthouse! Alice recalled with alarm. Is he involved?

  “We suspect that someone from MuseFam is working against us, but we need proof. Once we have that, we can bring it to the proper authorities,” Nigel continued.

  Alice then filled in Nigel about her activities with the Purists, the court hearings, and her recent science experiments with the Goth Queen.

  MuseFam Headquarters, New York City

  Wednesday
morning

  Walt Scruthers stepped out of the limo just outside MuseFam’s headquarters off Sixth Avenue in New York. He buttoned his white coat and pulled up his collar.

  Why didn’t I bring a heavier coat? Nashville is still warm compared to this.

  His white wispy hair blew to one side as a tall, balding man held the door open for him. Walt turned to his driver. “Wait by the car, Scroggins.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Walt hurried inside the MuseFam doors and surveyed the lobby. An atrium filled the space with bright natural light. Artificial intelligence was everywhere; robots cleaned the floors, walked beside people, and even sold pastries and coffee at kiosks.

  Walt took a handkerchief from a coat pocket and then wiped some grime from his rattlesnake cowboy boots.

  I feel dirty just stepping inside this place.

  An enormous reception desk with several uniformed men blocked the path to the atrium. Walt approached the largest-looking man.

  “Can I help you, sir?” the young burly guard asked.

  Walt gave the guard an appraising look, then said, “Yes, son, you can pick up that phone yonder and call the head of this . . . establishment.”

  “I’m sorry, but who are you here to see?” the guard asked.

  This guy is dense.

  Walt opened his arms in a grand gesture, then pointed to an emblem on the wall. It was golden and depicted a robotic dog looking inside a gramophone. “Well, I’m here to see the man who runs this whole shindig.”

  “Who?” the guard said again.

  Good—he thinks I’m a deaf old man.

  Walt pointed to the phone on the reception desk. “Look, son, I’ve come a long way to see Mr. Brenton Morris, and I expect you to pick up that phone, or call him on that high-tech gizmo you young’uns wear on your head, but summon him—and make it snappy. Tell him it’s Mr. Scruthers calling.”

  Walt finished his sentence by pushing the guard so hard he stumbled back into a wall. The young guard stared at him in disbelief.

  Walt smiled.

  I bet you didn’t expect an old man to have strength like that. My strength is all-natural, boy! No cyber cheating here.

  The guard put on a pair of glasses; then he tapped on an unseen screen just below the desk.