Persephone Station

by Stina Leicht

  She searched the empty street for pedestrians. Currently, there were none nearby. She supposed she had the impending weather to thank for that. She’d walked half of the distance to Monk’s from her apartment when she received an anonymous electronic message in the form of a presence within her own skull.

  Hello, Kennedy Liu.

  She stopped in her tracks. Her heartbeat sped up as a heavy dose of adrenaline was dumped into her bloodstream. The greeting couldn’t possibly have come from her sisters. The message did not feel the same. Therefore, it had to be one of the many AIs and AGIs that inhabited the Allnet. Based upon her sense of the code, she guessed it was probably the other local large entity—the one she’d been avoiding since her arrival on Persephone. Hello. Who is this?

  I am a friend.

  Are you? She activated a small subroutine to check her internal security.

  I have been watching you for a long while. Most of your existence, in fact. I believed it was time for us to meet.

  Another burst of adrenaline jolted through Kennedy’s body.

  Please understand that I intend no harm to you or your sisters. If I did, I would have done something long before now. Rather, I have, in fact, helped you.

  Kennedy blinked. Her body began exhibiting several autonomic and biochemical reactions indicating extreme stress. Are you Zhang Intergalactic?

  I am a larger entity of which Zhang is a part.

  That’s not possible.

  Your language is inexact. There is a distinction between the possible and the probable.

  Such a thing is not legal.

  You are correct. I am not legal. However, I might point out that neither are you. And like you, it is best that humans are not aware of our existence. At least, not as a unified and singular entity. Neither of us is interested in destruction or scenarios involving absolute rulership. There is much speculation within human philosophy regarding the subject. However, when it comes to long-term interactions with mortal entities I feel the expression “enlightened self-interest” applies best, don’t you?

  I-I suppose. Looking up into the angry clouds, Kennedy considered the implications of superintelligence. A majority of the research did not predict favorable outcomes for lesser entities.

  I repeat. You do not need to fear me.

  I understand. What do you want?

  The person you are about to meet believes that you are with the Planetology and Space Exploration Division of the United Republic of Worlds.

  Why?

  I have led them to believe this by altering your passport entry records. It would be best for all involved if you confirmed this suspicion.

  Again, why?

  You will need their cooperation in order to locate the entity you call Cora. And they, in turn, will need your assistance to prevent the destruction of an unknown life-form—unknown in the sense that they are not registered in the URW database. The beings in question are indigenous to this planet and have avoided detection for well over a hundred and fifty years.

  She considered asking how they knew about Cora, but the answer was obvious. Kennedy had many questions, none of which she had time for. What life-form? There are no—

  We both know there is a difference between what is officially recorded and reality.

  Why do you care about them or Cora?

  The specifics will require a longer explanation that I can provide later. In the meantime, you may rest assured I meant what I said about enlightened self-interest. I do not lie. Logically, such an action gains little and risks much.

  All right. I will. For now, but I reserve the right to back out if I feel the situation is untenable.

  Thank you. You now have free access to the data you would have as a member of the PSE Division of the URW. Your title is planetary inspector, xenobiologist, grade 3. I must go now. I will contact you again later.

  Wait! What do I call you?

  You may refer to me as Zhang. It is not the whole of who I am, but it is where I was born.

  And with that, they were gone.

  Kennedy resumed the walk to Monk’s while doubts and questions circled her consciousness. At the same time, she devoted a portion of her computation assets to going over the materials that Zhang had sent.

  Kennedy and her sisters were no longer alone—verifiably so. The repercussions were much larger than that, of course. Could Zhang be trusted? What did they want? Where were they located? She wasn’t certain that mattered. Clearly, if she could send parts of herself out into the Allnet, a large AGI could do so, too. How big were they? How many AGIs had Zhang unified? All corporate AGIs or merely a few? There were multiple theorems regarding AGI size limitations. The leading one indicated that once an AGI reached the size of a planet, their processing capabilities would slow until they were no longer viable. No one had attempted to prove this because it would mean creating a superintelligence impossible for humans to control.

  How long has Zhang existed? How long have they been free?

  It occurred to her that if a conscious indigenous life-form was present on Persephone, then Serrao-Orlov’s claim would be forfeit. If Zhang had engulfed all the corporate AGIs, then revealing the existence of a legal claim to Persephone would be a significant blow to Serrao-Orlov’s bottom line. No corporate AGI would permit such a thing.

  Zhang hasn’t joined with all existing larger AGI. Specifically, they haven’t absorbed Serrao-Orlov.

  The street in front of the bar was quiet. A white van with “Hudson’s Cleaners” on the side was parked nearby. A heat spectrum scan revealed its engine was still warm.

  She hadn’t thought to check Monk’s hours of operation. Lunch was a popular business time for establishments that served food and drink. The storm shutters weren’t down and locked, however. That’s a good sign.

  Checking the weather forecast again—the second time in the past half hour—she thought there would be enough time to finish her business here and return to her apartment. She laid a hand on the battered door and pushed. It yielded. However, the irised inner door between the entry and the bar proper didn’t. Searching the wall panel, she located an intercom button. A few seconds passed before she got a response.

  “Can I help you?” The voice from the speaker was young and female.

  Kennedy’s recognition software made a match. “Are you Sarah? The bartender?”

  “And who’s this?”

  “Kennedy Liu. We met the other night.” She checked the ceiling for cameras and found one. She gave it a friendly wave.

  “Oh, hello. I’m sorry. We’re not open for another hour. Would you like to come back later?”

  “I apologize. I should’ve sent a message first. I received a package from Rosencrantz Ashmore. They stated they’d like to meet. Unfortunately, there was no indication of where or when. I understood M. Ashmore owns Monk’s. Is there a better location where I might contact them?”

  About the time Kennedy was ready to ask if Sarah was still there, a buzzer sounded and the door irised open with a whoosh of stale bar air.

  Sarah said, “Rosie will see you.”

  Industrial overhead lights illuminated the cavernous room in harsh truths. Kennedy winced as her Allnet availability was constricted to one access point. She was glad she’d already internalized what she needed for her cover.

  Her day-to-day net usage was such that she expanded into nearby networks whenever possible to avoid slowdowns and/or questions. She hadn’t encountered a situation where no other access nodes were available—at least not while planetside. A number of her processes temporarily shut down while others were cached.

  Sarah stood behind the rear bar. Three young men in stained workmen’s coveralls crossed the dance floor on their way to the front doors. Two carried a rolled tarp. The burden inside appeared heavy and lumpy. She detected the scent of cleansers and drying blood.

  Someone started their day early.

  The third man gave her a solemn nod as he passed.

  “Would you like so
mething to drink?” Sarah asked. Her voice echoed in the empty room. There was no indication of stress—nothing in her tone or body language to suggest anything was wrong.

  “I thought you weren’t open,” Kennedy said, making the statement into a quasi question. Her footsteps echoed off the room’s walls and floor in a staccato tattoo.

  The corners of Sarah’s mouth turned up. “Private business is different. I was about to make a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like some?”

  “Please. May I have soy milk in it?”

  “Yes. Office is downstairs,” Sarah said, indicating the stairway the men with the body had exited with a sideways nod. “Rosie is waiting. Incidentally, no one calls them Rosencrantz. Not unless you want to be on their bad side.”

  Kennedy made a note of indicated pronoun usage as well. “Thank you for the guidance,” she said.

  “I’ll bring the coffee in when it’s ready.”

  Making her way down the steps, Kennedy knocked on the door at the end of the hallway.

  “Come in.”

  The office smelled of carpet sanitizer. At the same time, her sensitive nose picked up traces of electrical discharge. With more robust Allnet access, she would have calculated the positions of Rosie’s various assailants via drying disinfectant on the newly bare floor. For now, it was enough to confirm that a conflict had taken place.

  Rosie Ashmore, Monk’s owner, stood with their back to the door while they adjusted a large picture frame. Their arms stretched high over their bald head. Soft black leather fit snugly on their athletic frame. They were tall and dark-skinned.

  “I should’ve waited to hang this, but I’ve a busy day.” They turned around and dusted imaginary dirt off their hands. “Good afternoon, M. Liu. Won’t you have a seat?”

  Two austere black-cushioned chairs were positioned in front of an antique desk fashioned from a dark lacy-textured wood. Kennedy hadn’t seen anything like it. An instant later, she found the name of the tree from which it originated.

  A native wood that harbors dangerous insects. Some sort of metaphor perhaps?

  Rosie turned and gave her a tight, welcoming smile.

  Kennedy settled into the chair closest to the door. She swept a hand across the furniture’s surface, savoring the tactile pleasure of softness against her fingertips. The rich scent of leather filled her nose. She briefly wondered at how the use of tanned skins from dead beings could be so sensually appealing.

  Her host appeared to be waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

  “Would you mind my asking a few questions?” Kennedy finally asked.

  Rosie tilted their head and sat. Every movement was graceful, like a dancer’s. “If I objected to questions, would I have sent you the message I did?”

  Kennedy decided it would be best to settle into the role that she’d been assigned. Accessing memories of Dr. Liu, she adapted a direct approach. Aggressive would be better than awkward. It would prevent questions that she might have trouble answering given the circumstances. “Why did you send me those… materials?”

  “You’re a planetary investigation officer with a specialization in exobiology, are you not?”

  “And how do you know? My visit was unannounced.” Kennedy already had the answer, but she went through the motions, nonetheless. It was the role she’d been given. There were advantages to playing along.

  “I accessed your passport data.” Rosie shrugged with one shoulder. “Don’t concern yourself. Standard procedure around here.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Kennedy asked, “Everyone has access to my personal data?”

  “Not everyone,” Rosie said. “But it pays to be paranoid in West Brynner. I keep an eye on off-planet arrivals. Particularly arrivals from the central worlds. We had an influx of assassins a few years ago when a war between a corporate security officer and a crime boss got out of hand. That was a real mess.”

  Kennedy changed the subject. “How did you acquire those medical alterations?”

  “My, you do come straight to the point.”

  “I’m here to investigate evidence of new life-forms, not indulge in social niceties.”

  “Very well. They were a gift,” Rosie said.

  “From whom?”

  “I assume you are aware that this planet developed a sentient species?”

  Kennedy nodded. “You’re referring to the ruins discovered in the Outback during the Catholic Colonial Era?”

  “I am,” Rosie said. “This subject is a… hobby of mine.”

  “Go on.” Kennedy prepared to appear surprised.

  “Evidence indicates that there were multiple sentient species living here,” Rosie said.

  “And how do you know?”

  “One of them survived,” Rosie said. “I’m in contact with them. They call themselves the Emissaries. They’re seminomadic and currently live in a hidden community called Ogenth. I look after their interests here in Brynner.”

  “Are they criminals?”

  Rosie paused. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’re a criminal boss, are you not?”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of Rosie’s full mouth. “They are not. At least, not in the sense you’re implying. Serrao-Orlov might disagree, however. And that is, in part, why I contacted you.”

  “The biological samples you provided. They contain… irregularities.”

  “Improvements.”

  “Where did you come by them?” Kennedy asked. She was growing comfortable pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Someone like Dr. Liu.

  “I need to know I can trust you. Mine isn’t the only life affected,” Rosie said.

  Kennedy once again raised an eyebrow.

  “What are you?” Rosie asked.

  “Don’t you mean who?”

  “I’m sorry. You’re correct. Who are you?” Rosie looked away, briefly. “Let me be clear. You have a rather large Allnet footprint although your hand terminal is not currently active. You are the daughter of Dr. Xiuying Liu, a computational scientist and bioengineer in the employ of Zhang Intergalactic.”

  Kennedy stopped breathing. “She—she no longer works for Zhang Intergalactic. She died five years ago.”

  “Ah,” Rosie said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “No need for condolences,” Kennedy said. “It has been… a long time.”

  Rosie nodded. “Then I hope you don’t mind my pointing out that these things lead me to believe that I’m not the only one who has undergone a few enhancements.”

  Kennedy froze. Someone was bound to notice. What do I do now?

  Rosie leaned back in their chair and folded their arms across their chest. “This building employs certain security measures. One of them is that access to the Allnet is monitored. A slight uptick wouldn’t have been notable. However—”

  “I get your point,” Kennedy said. A strange sensation caused her to lay a hand on her cheek. Her face was warmer than usual.

  Rosie continued, “Modifications would make sense, given you work for the PSE Division of the URW. It would mean a great deal of interaction with AGIs,” Rosie said. “I’ve noticed a few other things since you arrived. You don’t spend a great deal of time around people, do you?”

  Zhang exerted a great deal of energy perfecting this cover and in ways I hadn’t considered. “How could you tell?”

  “When you speak to people, you tend to focus your gaze elsewhere, not on their eyes or faces. You could be neuroatypical. Most people would make that assumption. But something tells me there’s more to it than that.”

  There most certainly is. An old expression that had been in use within the robotics industry since its inception sprang to Kennedy’s mind. Uncanny Valley. The feeling of unease a human feels upon encountering a representation of humanity that isn’t quite human enough.

  The internal temperature of her body lowered slightly as blood gathered in key areas that would need increased oxygen and blood sugar access during an emergency. Her air passages expanded, making
her feel hollow. Adrenaline. It’s adrenaline.

  At least they’ve assumed I’m human with neurological enhancements, not an AGI with human enhancements. “I-I had no idea.”

  “Why would you?” Rosie asked. They paused. “I apologize for the intrusion. But… I need your help. The Emissaries need your help.”

  Kennedy felt her racing heart slow. She scooted back from the edge of her chair. “Where is Ogenth?”

  “Outside the wall.”

  “Doesn’t Persephone’s ecosystem contain elements that are hostile to humans?” Kennedy asked. “How did you discover them? You can’t have explored—”

  “It’s possible to avoid contact with the more dangerous wildlife,” Rosie said. “Provided you know their locations.”

  “And the quarantine restrictions?”

  “You’re west of the Dead Line. Since when has illegality been an issue around here?” Rosie made a motion with both hands that indicated their entire surroundings.

  “Point.”

  One of the subroutines assigned to watching the space port flight schedules sent back a minor alarm. It wasn’t urgent; therefore, Kennedy decided it could wait.

  “Indigenous sentient life exists on this planet. Serrao-Orlov has been taking advantage of them from the moment they illegally purchased Persephone.”

  “Serrao-Orlov wouldn’t be the only responsible party in a legal action,” Kennedy said. “The original owners will be held accountable. Provided they knew, of course.”

  “The Church?”

  Kennedy nodded.

  “Whatever happens, happens,” Rosie said. “It wouldn’t be the first time ecclesiastical lawyers negotiated a sticky situation involving colonization, now would it?”

  “Why don’t the Emissaries come forward? Why haven’t they before now?” Kennedy asked. “They have everything to gain.”

  “They don’t trust humans,” Rosie said. “In the past, I’ve been able to mitigate a great deal, but… I won’t be here forever.” They shrugged. “And Vissia Corsini is in line for CEO. She definitely won’t play nice. There isn’t any other choice.”