Silicon Dawn (Silicon Series Book 0)

by William Massa

  As he stepped into the church, his sensors registered the faint hint of incense. Candles flickered, painting the space with warm shadows, while his footsteps echoed on the stone floor. The statues of the saints seemed imbued with an eerie life of their own.

  Adam took in the stained-glass windows, each panel of which depicted a different scene. He recognized them as what Neeson had called the stations of the cross. Adam studied the images of Jesus, the purported son of God, bleeding as he struggled to keep the cross balanced on his shoulder. Strange how an instrument of death could become a symbol of hope to so many people.

  Adam extricated the pendant Neeson’s wife had gifted him at the funeral. Before he knew what he was doing, he had slipped the chain over his neck.

  He still couldn’t quite understand this religion, but he understood how much faith had meant to his old partner. He would wear the crucifix to honor his fallen partner while he continued to unlock the mysteries of the book that had inspired such devotion.

  Adam strode down the nave of the church, basking in the tranquility and peace of his surroundings. Incoming footsteps shattered the perfect moment, and Adam turned toward an approaching priest.

  The man’s initial astonishment gave way to wide-eyed wonder as he became aware of Adam’s true nature. Before the priest could say anything, Adam’s enhanced senses registered incoming footsteps. Emanating from both the choir and the altar. As Adam scanned the choir, muffled pops cut through the stillness of the church.

  Someone was firing at them.

  Adam’s programming took over immediately. First priority was preserving innocent life. He dove for cover, dragging the stunned priest with him. The pews shattered in a spray of splinters and the statues of the saints were stitched with lead. The attackers showed no respect for their sacred surroundings.

  Adam’s sensors scanned the house of God, seeking to pinpoint the shooter in the choir. With the high ground, he sported a clear advantage in this firefight.

  The priest stared at Adam, struggling to fight off his panic. “What's happening here?”

  Excellent question. Who was trying kill them?

  A second hail of bullets lashed the pews, and Adam caught quick glimpses of the two assassins behind the altar. They wore spectral glasses. His thermo-optic camouflage wouldn’t work this time. These killers had come prepared. The armed assailants were using the stone altar as cover, making it difficult for Adam to find a target.

  He studied his surroundings and zeroed in on the large wooden cross hanging above the altar, right behind the two killers...

  Adam popped up from the cover of the pews and fired. Two precision shots severed the wires holding the cross aloft and it tilted forward, its shadow engulfing the stunned assassins. The massive cross buried them underneath its bulk, silencing their screams.

  Adam’s enhanced hearing picked up the furious pounding of a heartbeat. It was coming from his left. He pivoted as another assassin burst from a confessional. The man's legs erupted as bullets shattered cartilage, his body smashing into a row of pews. The shots rang through the church, amplified by the acoustics of the structure.

  Three down, one to go.

  Bullets punched the air around him. More movement from the choir above. The shooter peeled from the shadows, gun targeting them from above when…

  Blam, Blam! The man’s chest was riddled with bullets—but Adam hadn’t pulled the trigger. The assassin sported an expression of stunned disbelief as he gurgled his last, bloody breath. He pitched forward and fell from the balcony. There was a muffled thump as his body hit the nave.

  Adam whirled and came face to face with the last person he expected to see.

  Malveaux, pistol leveled in a combat stance. No trace of the wine remained in her voice as she said, “Looks like we made some new friends.”

  ***

  A group of EMTs directed the dead assassins on hover stretchers to two waiting ambulances. A law enforcement hovership circled above, searchlights raining down on them. A number of cruisers fronted the entrance, and a few officers kept curious onlookers at bay. The priest sat on the steps of his church, head held low. Adam and Malveaux stood on the sidelines nearby.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Adam asked.

  “Your built-in locator,” Malveaux explained. “I put in a call to Synthetika. They were nice enough to help out.”

  “You're hurt.” Adam had noticed the blood-soaked regeneration patch wrapped around Malveaux's hand. It would speed up the healing process and repair the cellular damage within hours, but he could tell that the wound must be causing her pain.

  “I'll live...” Malveaux grimaced, the pain getting the better of her.

  “Why would the HDL try to kill us?”

  “Maybe they didn't like you digging around M-Tech’s computer systems and cross-referencing their money transfers to our dead cyberneticists. Or maybe because they just don’t like us.”

  Adam considered this. “I was careful not to leave any digital trace of me having accessed their systems.”

  “Do you have a better explanation for the hit squad? These fanatics are paranoid as hell and believe machines are planning an uprising in the near future. Who knows to what lengths they might go to keep their data safe.”

  She had a point. Not only did the HDL know that their systems had been hacked but they’d traced the breach back to him and Malveaux.

  “Where do we go from here?” Adam said.

  There was an ominous certainty in Malveaux‘s voice as she said, “A place you’re not going to like.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT WAS A little before lunch when they arrived at the main headquarters of the Human Defense League. A ten-foot stone wall reinforced with concertina wire ringed the sprawling estate. Malveaux pulled up to the wrought iron gate, her gaze drawn to the flag mounted above the entrance. A red DNA helix set against a white background billowed and flapped in the wind. The HDL believed humanity needed to draw a line in the sand and considered this place not merely as a simple base of operations but ground zero for the coming conflict.

  Paranoid bastards.

  The gates swung open and Malveaux navigated her car up a pebbled driveway. Everything looked official, almost regal, and she was reminded of a foreign embassy. A small pond fronted the lavishly appointed mansion. Sunlight glittered on the water and ducks and swans glided over its perfect surface, painting an idyllic image of tranquility. Nothing suggested these peaceful surroundings housed a suspected terrorist organization.

  Malveaux tried to read Adam’s expression. How would a machine react to an organization that wanted to destroy his kind? Some social watchdog groups felt the well-funded HDL was as dangerous as the Nazis or the KKK had been in their day. The same old hatred presented with a new coat of paint.

  They’d been the subject of countless investigations for everything from terrorism to tax fraud, but the authorities kept failing to make anything stick. Those who were willing to talk about the inner workings of the HDL had a tendency of winding up dead…before they had a chance to testify.

  Malveaux pulled into a parking area. They got out and headed for the central building. Armed guards patrolled the structure, enhancing the impression of being inside a police state. The guards wore black uniforms with white armbands etched with the symbol of the HDL. “Looks like they’ve been taking fashion tips from the SS,” she muttered under her breath.

  Once again, Malveaux wondered if bringing Adam along had been a foolish decision. Ultimately, she was hoping the android’s presence might throw Atari Raspell, the leader of the HDL, off balance and give them the necessary advantage when they questioned him.

  As they neared the building, an attractive woman sporting formal business attire approached with brisk steps. She introduced herself as Sarah, Raspell’s assistant, and flashed Adam a big smile as she urged them to follow her. Malveaux realized that Sarah had mistaken Adam for a human man. A rather attractive one, too. With the collar of his trench
coat raised, nothing gave away her partner’s true nature.

  If you knew the half of it, honey, Malveaux thought.

  Sarah led them into building and down an opulent hallway. They passed a number of sculptures and paintings—dramatic, ominous images of the impending war between humans and machines. Propaganda art. Sarah, noticing Adam's intense interest in the artwork, threw him a flirtatious smile.

  “Admiring the view?” she asked.

  “What do these images represent?”

  Sarah’s trembled with emotion as she spoke, offering a glimpse at the fanatic hiding below the well-put-together surface. “The future. Unless we stop it from happening. We believe humanity—its biological heritage—is under attack by the greed of Synthetika's cyberneticists and their slave race of robots. Conflict is inevitable.”

  “Interesting,” said Adam, his expression unreadable.

  They continued down the hallway and Sarah surreptitiously sidled up to Malveaux. “Tell me, is your partner single?”

  “Trust me, he's not your type,” Malveaux said, rolling her eyes.

  They stepped up to a heavy oak door fronted by two guards. An armed man sat behind a desk and monitored a holo-terminal. Malveaux and Adam passed through the scanners and immediately set off an alarm.

  Sarah turned toward them. “I'm sorry, but you'll have to turn in your firearms.”

  Malveaux wasn’t too thrilled with this idea. “We're police officers.”

  “We apologize for the inconvenience, but Mr. Raspell has many enemies.”

  “It’s not a problem.” Adam surrendered his firearm without protest.

  Sarah smiled warmly at Adam while giving Malveaux the cold shoulder. “Would you be so kind as to follow your partner's example?”

  Malveaux reluctantly conceded.

  They were about to enter the room when Adam set off the sensors again. The guard behind the security terminal freaked. Adam's image now flickered over their screens, his whole body having lit up. A flashing message appeared: MECH INTRUDER. The guards cursed and drew their pistols in one smooth motion.

  “What's wrong?” a stunned Sarah inquired.

  You’ve been flirting with the enemy, Malveaux thought. “Show them,” she said.

  Adam's lowered his collar of his trench coat and the glittering power bars in the back of his neck became instantly visible.

  “Jesus! It's a goddamn mech!” one of the HDL guards said.

  Sarah took a few steps back, thrown. The guards clearly couldn't quite believe it either. They didn’t lower their weapons, but they didn’t fire either. Before the situation erupted, the oak door leading into Atari’s office buzzed open. The guard’s guns remained leveled on Adam as Atari’s voice emanated over a speaker: “Send them in. Both of them.”

  A shaken Sarah pulled herself together and led them into an elegant, tastefully decorated office. The burnished leather and dark wood paneling projected a sense of power and control.

  Atari Raspell reclined behind a large desk, his calculating gaze tracking them with unflinching intensity as they advanced. “I apologize for the dramatics,” he said with a practiced smile. “I have many enemies who cherish the thought of removing me from the social equation.”

  Raspell shifted his focus toward Adam, maintaining his smile. There was something incongruous about a suspected terrorist leader displaying such friendly warmth toward his most bitter enemy. “You must be the new X-3000 model I keep hearing about. Adam, isn't it?”

  The android nodded.

  “How appropriate. Do you do know what your name means?”

  Adam answered the question without hesitation. “It comes from the Hebrew name Adham and means "To show blood in the face."

  Atari grinned. He had clearly expected the android to spit out an answer on command. “And wouldn't you agree, Inspector Malveaux, that Adam looks so much like one of us, you'd almost expect him to bleed.”

  Unlike her partner, Malveaux didn’t perform on command. She regarded Raspell in stony silence.

  Atari poured himself a brandy. “I’d offer you a drink but I know you’re on duty, Inspector, and I doubt our mechanical friend here has much use for the finer pleasures in life.” He took a deep swig and continued. “Adam was the first of God's creatures to have a divine spirit. He was special to God—and you’re special to me, Adam. Everything around here exists because of you.”

  Atari took another sip and said, “So how can I help you, Inspector?

  “Last night, six members of your organization came after me and my partner.”

  Atari pursed his lips. “I'm shocked to hear this. Why would they commit such a horrible act?”

  “I was hoping you'd be able to enlighten us.”

  “You hold me responsible for the actions of a few overeager fanatics?”

  How many times had he used that same line when questioned about terrorist attacks linked to his organization? “Some people would call you a fanatic.”

  “Why? Because I care about the future of humanity?”

  “Does caring about humanity include murder?” Adam said.

  An icy smile split Atari's face. “There was a time I could've had you deactivated for speaking back to me.” Atari turned toward Malvaux. “We’re a remarkable species to have created a machine with the arrogance to claim equality with its makers. Even man knows better.”

  Atari rose and walked over to a reproduction of the Mona Lisa hanging on his wall. “I keep this painting not for any aesthetic reasons but as a reminder.”

  “What do you mean?” Malveaux inquired.

  “Two art historians once authenticated this painting, determining it to be the original. Unfortunately, it's a forgery. A forgery so perfect it couldn't be identified by the top experts in the world. A forgery created by a mech.”

  Atari let this revelation sink in. Malveaux had a good idea where the HDL leader was headed with this. There was a part of her that shared Atari’s concerns. His fears weren’t without basis, but she disagreed with the man’s methods.

  “I study evolution. Darwin. Huxley. You build a machine superior to your own kind and chances are it will replace you on the food chain. It's only a matter of time. I'm not going to let that happen. No man in his right mind would.”

  Atari returned to his desk and regarded Adam. “I don't blame you, mech. You’re nothing but a symptom. It's the men who built you who are the disease.” He drained his drink and said, “I think we're done here. Unless you have a warrant, Inspector, I would appreciate it if you vacated the premises.”

  Malveaux flashed Raspell a dark look as she rose from her chair. “Whatever you guys are into, we're going to figure it out. We'll be back. That's a promise.”

  Malveaux and Adam left Atari’s office. She could feel the HDL leader’s glowering gaze following them the entire way.

  ***

  The city rushed past them as they drove back to the precinct. The sky had darkened once more, and the weather forecasts promised more rain.

  Adam replayed Atari’s conversation. He analyzed the initial warmth he’d received from Atari’s assistant, which turned into shock as she recognized the truth. What had changed between one moment and the next? Only her perception of him.

  Men had built him, and other men wanted to destroy him. It was illogical. They fear us, Adam realized. They believe we could turn against our masters and defy their orders, but why do they feel that way? We exist so that we can serve our creators. As far as Adam was aware, no AI had ever harmed a human unless they were military combat models programmed to do so.

  Our programming shapes who we are, he thought. We are an extension of our creator’s will. Raspell and his followers had to know this, so why did they choose to believe otherwise?

  As his mind processed these thoughts, he turned toward Malveaux. “You don't support Atari even though you have reason to hate androids. Why?”

  Malveaux hesitated for a beat before she responded. “I don't respect a man who’s willing to kill innocent pe
ople to make his point.”

  Adam considered this. It sounded like she related to Atari’s fears but worried about the human collateral damage. Was mankind unwilling to share this world with another form of intelligence even if it was one they’d created themselves?

  Malveaux’s wristband comm chirped. For a moment she listened to the voice on the other end, nodding her head. “Thanks for the update. Great work.” Malveaux killed the conversation, and Adam regarded her curiously. “What was that about?”

  “Forensics identified that escape pod—what was left of it, anyway. They came from the Phoenix 5-E. The vessel was junked eleven months ago. The escape pods were sold to a local scrap yard. The lab boys also ID’d some interesting metallic compounds in Cain’s apartment. Among them traces of carbon composites, titanium, and iron.”

  “Metals used in the construction of various types of space freighters.”

  “That's right.” Malveaux smiled.

  They had their next lead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AS DUSK FELL over San Francisco, an aerial police transport blasted across the fog-shrouded sky. Dimmed interior lights played over the shiny black helmets and form-fitting body armor of the SWAT team huddled within the airship’s belly. They looked more like robots than flesh-and-blood soldiers, and it occurred to Adam that mankind drew a kind of strength from making themselves more like machines.

  The red and blue searchlights turned off and the engine’s mechanized snarl gave way to a soft, barely audible hum. The aerial ship was switching to stealth mode as it zeroed in on the target area below. A landscape of discarded machinery loomed in the low visibility—a wasteland of android shells, broken cars, and smashed-up space vessels blighting San Francisco’s Treasure Island. A cluster of deserted factory buildings squatted at the heart of the mechanical graveyard.