Socrates and the Ionian

by Thomas Fay

  ‘What is it?’ John asked.

  ‘I ran that background check on Logan Myers,’ James said.

  ‘And …?’

  ‘Quite an interesting read.’

  James pulled up a file on one of the LED screens in the VR booth. A series of dates with descriptions scrolled across.

  ‘Logan Myers made his fortune by working with the Iona Corporation to retrofit existing buildings with Flux Cells. His company, LM Holdings, became the consultant of choice for the majority of building owners in Iona to transition across to the new technology. He made tens of millions in the first year alone. He then reinvested those profits via his development company, which created sustainable and affordable apartment developments across Iona.’

  John nodded. ‘He’s definitely one of the richest people in Iona. Fernali may have been right about Lauren trading up.’

  ‘You mean your ex-wife?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Wow. Okay. Well, according to official records, he’s worth several hundred million, although it’s hard to quantify exactly, given a large amount of his fortune is tied up in various developments and renewable energy projects across Iona, Australia and South America.’

  ‘Right, so he’s rich and he also seems to have a social conscience. Anything else jump out at you?’

  James scrolled through the data on the LED screen.

  ‘Yes, actually. About six months ago he created a new company, Citizen Forum Pty Limited.’

  ‘What does it do?’

  James continued to scroll through the data on the screen. He input a series of instructions into the virtual keyboard projected on the desk before him. The data changed to financial information.

  ‘It looks like he’s hired a number of political consultants, including your ex-wife. He’s also spending big on marketing, advertising and social awareness.’

  ‘What is he up to?’

  Socrates had been watching the information on the screen intently while John had been speaking.

  ‘I would postulate that Logan Myers is preparing to run for a Council seat in Iona,’ Socrates said.

  ‘Council seat? What do you mean?’

  ‘The Ruling Council has been hinting at the fact that they will allow non-Iona Corporation executives onto the Ruling Council this year. I believe Logan Myers is building political support in preparation for that event.’

  John was actually speechless for a moment.

  ‘John? Are you alright?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘He’s running for the Ruling Council?’ John finally managed to say.

  ‘That is my hypothesis.’

  ‘I agree with Socrates,’ James said. ‘Judging by these figures he’s spent a lot of money to hire the best people. I’d say he’s about as ready as he could be.’

  John smiled. Then he laughed.

  ‘What is so funny?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘Lauren has finally done it—she’s married a man who’s not only rich and successful but he’s also going to be running for political office. I’m sure they’re also going to have beautiful children and live in an amazing beachfront property. I guess she’s finally got everything she ever wanted.’

  ‘What about you, John?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Do you have everything you ever wanted?’

  Not surprisingly, the question made him think of Simone. He pictured her beautiful face, her green eyes, her auburn hair. He could still remember the first time he saw her at Walter Menzies’s house. She had been there at her father’s behest. It didn’t matter. Each time they encountered her after that had just made John like her more and more. That had been four years ago. They’d grown close over the years. He knew the truth about her. It didn’t matter. He knew he wanted her in his life and it seemed she felt the same. He’d been married before and it hadn’t worked out. He just wasn’t sure where their relationship would lead but he was excited to find out.

  ‘Not quite, but I’m getting there.’

  Twenty-Three

  The armoury was located on level ten of Sentinel HQ. Its inventory was constantly updated and restocked as new weapons and equipment became available. Some of the equipment was still in the final stages of testing, the Monolith V combat armour prime amongst them. State of the art, it was designed to protect the wearer from harm through the use of nanofilament mesh covered by composite plates. It was strong, flexible and lightweight. Field tests to date had been promising but it was yet to be proven in real-life conditions. Unlike the Sentinel rapid-fire handgun.

  ‘Tesh, what do you need?’ Gina Ryan, the armoury supervisor, asked.

  ‘A couple of clips for my handgun,’ John replied.

  ‘Sure thing. Anything else?’

  ‘What’s the most powerful portable weapon you have?’

  Gina raised an eyebrow. ‘Expecting trouble?’

  ‘I like to be prepared.’

  ‘The Gauss rifle packs the most punch but I’m not sure you’d call it portable, unless you’re wearing powered combat armour.’

  ‘What is the weight of the weapon?’ Socrates asked.

  Gina checked her touchscreen tablet.

  ‘Twenty kilograms fully loaded.’

  ‘That will not compromise my movement by more than one per cent.’

  ‘Great,’ said John. ‘Issue Socrates with a Gauss rifle. What have you got that I can use?’

  ‘It really depends what you need it for—armour piercing, single target, wide spread, explosive?’

  John considered the question. His gaze found the rack filled with Monolith V combat armour. It glinted faintly with the reflected light of the armoury’s ceiling LED panels, reminding him of the metallic endoskeleton underneath Socrates’s polycarbonate skin.

  ‘What would I need to stop someone in one of those?’ he asked, pointing at the combat armour.

  ‘Two of those,’ Gina said.

  ‘Seriously?’

  Gina nodded. ‘I’ve tested it myself. It’s good, damn good. You move faster, you’re stronger and best of all it shrugs off bullets and knives and can even withstand temperatures up to eight hundred degrees Celsius with its built-in cooling system.’

  ‘Wow. Okay, that is impressive. So, what would it take to punch a hole in one?’

  Gina considered the question for a moment. She input a series of instructions into her tablet.

  ‘Other than the Gauss rifle, the only thing capable of putting a dent in a Monolith V would have to be the Longbow.’

  ‘A sniper rifle?’

  ‘With armour-piercing polycarbonate rounds.’

  ‘Right. Not the most practical thing to carry around all day,’ John said.

  ‘Hey, you wanted stopping power. That’s it,’ Gina said.

  John nodded. ‘Alright, sign it all out.’

  Gina scrolled through her tablet. She typed a series of instructions. Then she turned the tablet around to face John.

  ‘Two handgun clips, Longbow sniper rifle and a clip of armour-piercing rounds,’ she said.

  John initialled in the space indicated. Gina clicked through to the next requisition order. Filling it out, she turned the tablet towards Socrates.

  ‘One Gauss rifle with a full clip,’ she said.

  Socrates initialled and Gina completed the order. Putting her tablet down, she reached under the counter and withdrew two clips. Placing them on the counter, she said, ‘Two clips. I’ll have the weapons loaded into your cruiser.’

  ‘Thanks, Gina.’

  ‘No problem.’

  John and Socrates turned and made their way back to the turbo-lift. Pressing the button for up, they waited about ten seconds before the doors opened. Sorensen was standing inside the lift. There was a strain about her eyes and her fists were tightly clenched.

  ‘Sorensen, what’s wrong?’ John asked.

  ‘There’s been an accident,’ she said. ‘One of ours.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘A Sentinel cruiser spun out of contro
l in the harbour tunnel and hit the wall at over one hundred kilometres an hour.’

  John felt a tightness in his stomach.

  ‘Who was in the cruiser?’

  ‘Muller.’

  ‘Is he alright?’

  Sorensen shook her head. Socrates looked at them both with eyes that only appeared human.

  ‘He didn’t make it.’

  John punched the wall. ‘Damn it!’

  Twenty-Four

  The harbour tunnel had originally been opened in 1992. Providing an alternative to the bridge, its dual laneways in each direction were expanded by the Iona Corporation in 2046. The tunnel was now a four-lane freeway linking the North Shore to the Iona CBD. About a quarter of a million vehicles used the tunnel every day. Accidents were rare but when they occurred they usually brought traffic to a standstill in one direction. Today was no exception. Cars were backed up all along the Eastern Distributor for kilometres. Utilising their Sentinel override, John and Socrates drove across the bridge and entered the tunnel against the flow of traffic.

  ‘Christ,’ John whispered as they approached the accident scene. Pieces of Muller’s cruiser were strewn across the four lanes, while the reinforced cabin was embedded into the side wall of the tunnel. Emergency and law enforcement vehicles, including another Sentinel cruiser, filled the space around the accident. Blue, red and orange lights blinked in and out of existence. A medical team was taking Muller’s broken body away on a stretcher. The lack of any medical equipment attached to him indicated that there was nothing they could do for him.

  John parked their cruiser several metres from the accident. He and Socrates got out. They were approached by another Sentinel— Diana Hawkes, Muller’s partner.

  ‘Tesh, Socrates,’ she said, her voice subdued.

  ‘How did this happen?’ John asked.

  ‘We’ve reviewed the footage from the tunnel surveillance cameras. There’s a glitch in the feed just before the accident—one minute he’s driving along like normal, then it’s like this,’ she said, indicating the wreckage around them.

  ‘Is there any indication of what caused the glitch in the surveillance feed?’ Socrates asked.

  Hawkes shook her head.

  ‘Have you examined the wreckage?’ John asked.

  ‘I … no, not yet.’

  John nodded. ‘I understand. Let us take a look. We need to figure out what happened. Have his next of kin been notified?’

  Hawkes shook her head.

  ‘Not yet. I was going to go and see Bec myself but I just don’t know how I’m going to tell her that her husband is never coming home again.’

  ‘Keep it simple, stick to the facts.’

  Hawkes nodded. ‘Do you need me here?’

  ‘Go. We’ll handle this.’

  ‘Thanks, Tesh.’

  John and Socrates approached the remains of the cruiser. Its reinforced front section had ploughed into the tunnel wall. While the cruiser was designed to withstand impacts with other vehicles it had no chance against the reinforced concrete and metal structure of the harbour tunnel. The front had crumpled on impact, absorbing the kinetic forces generated by the collision in a desperate attempt to protect the occupant. In this case, it had failed. Muller’s body had absorbed the remaining force of the impact and though it was lessened it killed him instantly.

  ‘John, there is something wrong with the engine bay,’ Socrates said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  The android pointed at the centre of the crumpled bonnet.

  ‘There should be substantially more mass there.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I believe this vehicle experienced a similar Flux Cell malfunction to the ones outside the CTS warehouse in Mascot. It would explain why none of the safety features activated inside the cabin. If the Flux Cell was no longer present and powering the vehicle at the point of impact, then the safety features would have been disabled.’

  John clenched his fists. ‘Are you saying this was deliberate?’

  ‘That is one possibility; however, when we encountered the Flux Cell malfunction earlier, it appeared to have been intended as a means to access the CTS servers.’

  John looked around the tunnel. They were almost halfway between the two sides, directly underneath the harbour. There was nothing above them but water and marine life.

  ‘Why would they trigger a Flux Cell malfunction here?’

  ‘There do not appear to be any plausible targets.’

  ‘Exactly. No other vehicles were affected; the tunnel remains fully powered. No, this was deliberate.’

  ‘Your logic is sound, John. It would also imply that Muller’s cruiser was deliberately targeted in order to cause his death.’

  ‘Which means whoever is behind those androids is targeting Sentinels. This just went to a whole new level.’

  John took out his phone. He found the number for the Chief and hit dial. It was answered on the second ring.

  ‘Tesh, I assume you heard about Muller?’ the Chief asked.

  ‘I’m here now. Listen, Chief. I don’t think this was an accident.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Muller’s cruiser was deliberately sabotaged. Someone meant to kill him.’

  There was a momentary silence.

  ‘Jesus, Tesh. Are you saying someone is going after Sentinels?’

  ‘I’m not sure but it seems that way. Until we know for sure, you need to tell everyone to drive their cruisers slowly.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. Trust me on this one, Chief.’

  ‘Alright, Tesh. I’ll let everyone know and warn them to be careful.’

  ‘Thank you, Chief.’

  ‘And Tesh?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘That goes for you too.’

  Twenty-Five

  The drive from the scene of the accident to Sentinel HQ was a tense one. John kept expecting the front of the car to warp inwards and the Flux Cell to disappear, taking part of the car with it. He deliberately kept the speed under sixty kilometres per hour. About halfway there he considered letting Socrates take control when the full implications of the Flux Cell malfunctions occurred to him.

  ‘I think we’ve got a serious problem,’ John said.

  ‘I agree, John. We seem to be facing a formidable adversary and we do not yet understand what their motives are.’

  John shook his head. ‘No, I meant with you.’

  ‘Me, John?’

  ‘Yes. This ability to tamper with Flux Cells could have a catastrophic consequence.’

  ‘You mean because I am powered by a Flux Cell?’

  ‘Whoever is behind this could effectively disable you permanently by tampering with your power source.’

  ‘I have considered that possibility. I believe the risk is relatively low, given there are only a handful of individuals who are aware of the nature of my power source.’

  John turned to look at his partner. A partner he thought of as human in most cases, despite knowing the truth. He realised this was one of those times when he had to think of Socrates as an android. A machine. One that could malfunction or could be used against him. It had happened once before when the hidden programming inserted by the Ionians had prevented Socrates from acting against members of the Iona Corporation. Now there was a risk that he could be used as a destructive device. The death of Giles Muller was still fresh in his mind—the sight of the crumpled Sentinel cruiser, the blood stains throughout the car, the broken body being taken away. One Sentinel death was one too many. It didn’t matter that Socrates wasn’t human. He was John’s partner. Which meant he had to do everything in his power to keep Socrates alive.

  ‘We need to speak to Frost,’ John said.

  ‘About my Flux Cell?’ Socrates asked.

  ‘Yes. He’ll know what to do.’

  ‘We do not have his direct number.’

  ‘No, but I have the next best thing.’

  John scrol
led through his recent call list. Finding the number he wanted, he hit dial.

  ‘Where are you?’ was the greeting he received from Simone.

  ‘In the city, why?’ John replied.

  ‘Because we detected another Flux Cell surge. It was located somewhere near the harbour bridge.’

  John felt a momentary pang of loss as he thought of Giles Muller. He had always liked the former South African police officer. It was strange to think he would never see him again.

  ‘It was in the tunnel. A Sentinel cruiser’s Flux Cell malfunctioned. The driver was killed when it slammed into the wall.’

  ‘John, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Thanks. Muller was one of the best. He will be missed.’

  ‘Wait, does that mean the Sentinels are being targeted?’

  John hesitated for a moment.

  ‘We believe that’s one possibility. We’ll certainly be driving slower but that’s not the reason I called. I need to speak to your father. It’s about Socrates.’

  ‘Oh my God, of course! He has a Flux Cell. Let me speak to him now. I’ll call you right back.’

  She hung up. John turned the corner onto Macquarie Street. He reduced speed to less than fifty kilometres per hour as he merged with afternoon traffic. A few moments later they drove into the underground parking garage at Sentinel HQ. The surveillance cameras scanned their licence plate, granting them access. John parked the cruiser in the fourth space near the turbo-lifts. Getting out, he was greeted by Pawel Kowalski, the Sentinel mechanic.

  ‘John, I heard what happened to Giles. A terrible tragedy. I will pray for him and his family,’ Pawel said.

  ‘Thank you, Pawel. Giles was a good man and a fine Sentinel. He will be missed.’

  ‘The Chief told me the cruisers are to be kept below sixty kilometres an hour and avoided if possible. What is going on?’

  ‘There may be an issue with the Flux Cells powering our vehicles.’

  Pawel’s eyes opened wide. ‘Is that what happened to Giles?’