Johnny Winger and the Hellas Enigma

by Philip Bosshardt

  “Or that he sometimes walks right through vendor carts. Hey, Anderson, what about that swarm? That little girl bought the whole pitch.”

  Presently, ‘Anderson’ eased up alongside the two of them. His voice was somewhat hollow, at a higher frequency than normal human speech, and uni-directed to Tallant and Winger’s ears alone.

  ***I detect swarm is a low-level assembler formation, with crude config routines and poorly optimized config changes…detecting no quantum coupler emissions…basic processor core…this demonstration is little more than a standard fabricator with visual effects modules***

  “You’re probably right,” Winger conceded. The Q2 and BioShield intelligence briefing had clued them in to some of the more common practices around Kolkata. It was normal for fab hawks like Najipoor Singh to sell the basic fabricator shells cheap and the processor cores and matter drivers dearly…the better to get unwary customers hooked and reel them in like fish.

  Traffic in unlicensed, souped-up fabs made for a brisk black market, in Kolkata and around Bengal and Bangladesh and Burma, indeed throughout South Asia and the Indian Ocean littoral.

  Prime Red Hammer hunting grounds, Winger had remarked to the briefers. Along with thriving cartels in unregulated genetic enhancements like twist, the traffic in fabs and what had been termed bad nano was booming in Kolkata, so much so that Quantum Corps and local BioShield cops had been overwhelmed. Red Hammer also did a thriving business in fab driver programming—with the right patches and algorithms, a good fab driver could create literally anything except organics. Life itself was still too complex in code to hack successfully. Winger figured it was only a matter of time before that barrier was broken. And what they couldn’t create on their own, Red Hammer stole or kidnapped. All across the subcontinent, an epidemic of nanohead and atomgrabber kidnappings had exploded in recent years.

  “Come on—“ Winger muttered to Tallant. He stepped out of the crowd, followed by Tallant, ‘Anderson’ , Barnes and the rest of the task force.

  Winger went up to Singh, smiling at little Menaka proudly showing off the new pedcart to her still-astonished father.

  “We want to buy.” He leveled an even gaze at the fab hawk, who was busily taking orders and exchanging rupees with eager customers.

  At first, Singh didn’t acknowledge them. Winger moved closer, standing right beside the trading table and raised his voice.

  “A very large order, my friend. I represent Euro money…a lot of it. An untapped market—“

  That got Singh’s attention. He looked up, one fist crammed with rupee notes and rubbed his black moustache thoughtfully with the other hand, jerking his thumb behind.

  “Meet me inside the tent…five minutes.” He went back to his selling and haggling.

  Winger motioned for Barnes, Reaves and two other troopers, all in civilian garb, to form a discreet perimeter around the outside of the tent. He wanted to have Najipoor Singh’s undivided attention for a few minutes, without interruption.

  Tallant and ‘Anderson’ followed Winger inside.

  Inside the tent, four tables formed a large square, with huge cushions and thick rugs scattered around. Incense and other elements burned from smoking pots in the corners. A large antique safe squatted on ornate gilded legs in one corner. The safe was enveloped in obvious barrier nano—a faint mist sparkled and twinkled around it.

  ‘Anderson’ went over, almost gliding as he moved toward the safe. A hand went out and sparks flew where the assembler swarms collided. Electron bond disrupters fizzed and soon the barrier nano dissolved into nothing.

  “How the hell did you do that?” Tallant asked.

  ‘Anderson’ smiled faintly, a crooked, uneven smile that had once sent shivers down her spine. The swarm was still learning the nuances of human facial expressions.

  ***Crude assembler swarm…very loose…poorly coordinated…I used bond disrupters to penetrate and reset primary config algorithms***

  “Jesus,” Winger said. “I wish you could have done that at Shavindra.”

  At that moment, Najipoor Singh stuck his head inside and came into the tent. Immediately, he frowned, realizing the safe barrier had been breached. He extracted a coilgun from beneath his kaftan waistband and leveled it at Winger.

  “You will please to leave my safe alone…what have you done to the shield?”

  “Hold on, pal,” Winger said. “We just want to do some business. You’ve got some pretty slick nano going on here.”

  Singh relaxed his grip on the coilgun slightly, but he was still suspicious. He squinted at ‘Anderson.’

  “You bring your own djinn…what kind of trick is this? You are interested maybe in taking my business…I am here at the Bridge for many weeks—“ he rubbed his fingers together indicating payoffs and bribes “—very expensive this location.”

  Winger shook his head. “No, no…it’s nothing at all like that. We want to place an order…a large order. Euro money…big money here. You have fabs we can examine?”

  Singh finally lowered the coilgun, keeping a close eye on ‘Anderson,’ and tucked it in his waistband. “Ah…fabs…there are so many dealers in Kolkata…and I am just a poor peddler…what kind of fabs do you seek?” He poured himself a tiny cup of tea, offering some to the others. All declined.

  “Something kind of special,” Dana Tallant told him. “Enhancements for ‘Anderson’ here…for his processor core.”

  ‘Anderson’ brightened at the mention of his name. The slightly misshapen smile broadened. His voice came out like tinny and slurred. ***Pleased to meet you…I am Anderson…I hope we will be able to do business…you have impressive swarm systems here…***

  Singh was curious. He came up to ‘Anderson’, placed his fingers experimentally into the swarm. A slight buzz and ticklish resistance gently pushed his fingers out.

  “Some tweaking is needed, yes…I can see this. Notice the edges of the swarm…trouble holding config…it is a processor problem. I can get you upgrades…modules with new effectors, new algorithms—“ Singh cleared his throat. “You know this entity should be in containment. It is illegal in Bengal to operate beyond containment.”

  Winger glanced briefly at Tallant, who nodded ever so slightly. Singh was taking the bait. They had programmed ANAD before ever leaving Table Top to react in just this way…simulating a para-human form that was almost, but not quite, believable. In truth, ANAD was capable of more, a lot more. They had been counting on a fab hacker like Singh being just greedy enough to overcome his natural suspicions of a sting.

  “Yes, yes…I understand all that,” Winger waved off his concerns. “But this is Kolkata, is it not? Every street corner is thick with loose nano…angels and djinn everywhere. Everybody’s got a halo of some type. We saw what you did with the little girl. I must say I was impressed…all of us were. You’re just the one to help us with ‘Anderson’ here.”

  Singh beamed, even as he understood he was being stroked. “It is true. Howrath Bridge has the best hackers.” He slowly circled ‘Anderson,’ critically examining the swarm from every angle. “A very good likeness, I must say. All djinn have flaws…it’s simply a matter of hiding them, drawing your eyes to the good parts and away from the bad parts.”

  Tallant said, “Then you’ll help us?”

  Singh pursed his lips, clucked at the possibilities he could envision with this foreign swarm. “And what do you want of this swarm, this ‘Anderson’?”

  “It’s not what we want,” Winger said, “It’s what he wants. He wants to seem as human as possible. To step outside and pass for a real human.”

  For a moment, Singh said nothing. When he laughed, it was a hoarse, coughing kind of gurgle. “Many have these dreams…especially the children. All of us want the perfect companion.” Singh smiled faintly. “Alas, perfection is only for Shiva, only for the gods.”

  Winger said, “Name your price.”

  Singh screwed up h
is face, idly fingering his moustache, as he considered all the angles. He didn’t even know these Euros. Were they Bengal or maybe National Police? Maybe even BioShield? Still, they smelled like money.

  Singh reached into a pocket of his kaftan and pulled out a small device. He pressed it into the palm of Winger. “This will give you directions to another place here in Kolkata. Be there at 10:00 pm tonight. Alone, just the two of you, along with this ‘Anderson.’”

  Winger took the locator and pocketed it discreetly.

  Singh said, “I have many friends in the streets. If you try to cheat me, I will know of it. Give me a name.”

  Winger had an ID card all ready. He gave it to the hacker. “All the details are there. My name’s Willoughby. Jacob Willoughby. England. In fact, Yorkshire highlands.”

  Singh thumbed the stud on the side of the card, watching the data and pix scroll before his eyes. He nodded gravely.

  “Ten p.m. tonight. Don’t be late. Now you must leave—“

  Winger indicated to Tallant and ‘Anderson’ that they should do as the hacker said. The three of them left the tent.

  Outside, more swarms done up like djinn and angels and all kind of apparitions were entertaining the crowd. Other hackers had ringed the promenade with stalls and booths and were busily taking orders. Food carts circulated through the throng trailing smells of lamb and curry. Giant posters of swamis and priests and Bollywood film stars hung from poles.

  Winger alerted his discreet perimeter detail by crewnet. “All posts…report in.”

  One by one, the rest of the Detachment gave their reports. Winger told them to meet up on the other side of the race track.

  Ten minutes later, the Detachment had gathered outside the posting gates as lines of bettors placed their bets and surged inside the track. Bells sounded the end of post time. The first race would begin in five minutes.

  “Think this hacker’s legit?” Tallant asked.

  Winger shrugged. “Hard to say. From what I could see, he’d got quite an operation around here. He seems to run a lot of territory on this side of the river.”

  Just then, ‘Anderson’s voice crackled through the crowd noise, uni-directed to Winger and Tallant.

  ***Proximity warning…there is a surveillance swarm nearby…mass centroid is sixteen meters on bearing two six five degrees…swarm is configged as Drosophila funebris…detecting effectors and molecule groups optimized for visual, auditory and EM emissions***

  “Flies,” Tallant muttered. She looked around. The place was thick with fruit flies and swarming clouds of insects.

  “Yeah,” said Mighty Mite Barnes. “The perfect cover.”

  “So we’re being reconned,” Winger said. “I’d have been surprised if we weren’t. Can you shield us?”

  ***Affirmative…I will detach sub-swarm element to create interference shield***

  The process took several minutes. As he was assembling a shield, ‘Anderson’ grayed out a little and became even fuzzier around the edges. Nobody seemed to notice.

  “Where is this place we’re going?”

  Winger activated the locator and waved it over his wrist scanner. Coordinates and details along with the latest Q2 intelligence appeared on his corneal viewer. “North, along the river. Durganagar, it looks like. Seems to be a warehouse district, from the pix.”

  “Could be a fab lab,” offered Barnes, looking around uneasily at the gathering flies. She swatted at some…they seemed to be ordinary flies.

  “I doubt this joker would take us to a major lab without checking us out…although that may be what the recon bugs are doing now.” Winger snapped off the locator. “Let’s get going. We should do a little recon ourselves.”

  “Jeez, this place gives me the creeps,” said Tallant, as they moved out, heading for the Howrath bridge. “It’s out of control…I can’t tell who’s real and who’s a cloud of bugs.”

  ‘Anderson’ buzzed angrily. ***It would please this swarm if humans would refrain from referring to our natural configs as ‘bugs.’ ANAD are swarming entities. It is our programming. This is not so different from your own cities and urban regions***

  Tallant snorted. “ANAD, don’t get your panties in a wad, okay? It was just a figure of speech.”

  Barnes noted, “My, he’s touchy today. Maybe it’s all the other swarms…out of containment. It’s giving him ideas.”

  The Detachment moved through heavy crowds, crossing the bridge over the muddy, sluggish Hooghly River and headed on foot north up the NH-4, the Shalimar Road. They passed a stadium and a college, and moved into a commercial district after a time.

  Winger’s corneal viewer guided him unerringly toward the coordinates. When they were inside of a kilometer from their destination, it flashed a warning.

  “ANAD, is that recon swarm still with us?”

  ***Affirmative…ANAD detects low level nanobotic activity less than twenty meters south, centroid bearing one five zero degrees…swarm is diffuse and configged as fruit flies***

  “Acknowledged.” Winger called a halt to their march. “This looks like the place.”

  They were in a warehouse district called Barahanagar, barely three blocks east of the river banks. A light fog had enveloped the area as the sun went down. Through the fog, the nanotroopers could make out acres of low-rise brick buildings, with slate and tin roofs dominating the view. Narrow roads separated the buildings, really little more than footpaths, most of which were thick with small lorries and carts navigating the confusing warren of lanes.

  Winger studied the image on his corneal implant. Q2 had transmitted some sat video of the region, taken only a day before. He checked the coordinates from the imagery with the locator that Singh had given him. Bingo. It was a match. The coordinates were centered on a grimy red brick building on the far corner. The address was given as Number 17, Subhash Street. Flocks of pigeons and seagulls and other flying things strutted and screeched from a roof draped with cables and lines.

  “That’s the one?” Tallant asked.

  Winger nodded. “Let’s get a basic perimeter set up around this block. Barnes, you and Reaves take that side—“ he pointed toward the intersection. “Turbo, you take Spite and Calderon and secure the alley approach. ANAD, you and Tallant are with me.” He eyed the sky overhead, now streaked purple with fading sunlight on tropical clouds. “We’ll wait awhile, make it nice and dark before we move in. Say about 2200 hours.”

  ***What config shall I assume?*** ANAD asked.

  “Do ‘Anderson’ for now, ANAD,” Winger told him. “I don’t think we really fooled anyone at the race track but Singh said that our supplier would be expecting three of us.”

  ***Acknowledged…changing config now…***

  Behind them, a small cyclone of dust motes began to swirl silently, gathering itself into the slowly materializing apparition of a human being, a ghostly presence that flickered and wavered even as it solidified.

  Just before ten o’clock, Winger stirred from his hiding place behind a broken down old jitney. “Move out,” he ordered over the crewnet. Tallant and ‘Anderson’ made their way through a throng of screeching birds across a potholed street and came up to a steel door at the corner of the warehouse. Lights from inside shone through cracks around the frame.

  It was open.

  Cautiously, the two nanotroopers entered, followed by the para-human assembler swarm.

  The interior was a cavernous but dusty open space broken up by row after row of columns and pallets of equipment stacked nearly to the ceiling.

  “Looks like a –“ but Dana Tallant never finished her sentence.

  They had walked right into the middle of a live swarm.

  “It’s a MOB!” Winger yelled. He started to back out, fumbling for the coilgun at his waist but it was already too late. The mobility obstruction barrier had been triggered and was now gathering around him, cutting off all escape.

&n
bsp; Behind him, Dana Tallant was fighting the same battle.

  Even as Winger and Tallant became entangled in the writhing mesh, ‘Anderson’ had seen the MOB coming. The para-human swarm quickly re-configged, dissolving into scattered knots of assemblers, eventually breaking down into little more than dust motes. ANAD detached a small sub-element to engage the MOB bots, but its programming quickly overrode this. Third Rule always had precedence over Fourth Rule. ANAD re-absorbed the sub-element and remained configged as dust.

  “I can’t…get my…weapon…loose!!” Winger choked out. Slowly, inexorably, the MOB bots formed a tightening noose and forced the nanotrooper into a crouch, then a curled-up ball on the floor.

  Dana Tallant fared no better. “Wings…I can’t…breathe….”

  Both were soon gasping and clawing for air when the first humans showed up. Through the sparkling mesh that had enveloped him, Winger could just make out the distorted faces of three men, all vaguely Bengali from their turbans and dress. Their voices were low and muffled.

  “Grab them…we’ll take them to—“ but the rest was garbled as Winger thrashed furiously inside the suffocating prison of the MOB net.

  He felt himself hoisted up, then dragged roughly along the warehouse floor. The netball bounced and rocked down several flights of stairs. Winger couldn’t be sure but he assumed Tallant had suffered the same fate. He had an embodied ANAD swarm in his shoulder capsule…one button pressed on his wristpad would have launched the assemblers and he could have been free of the MOB and breathing real air in moments.

  No…got to stay with this…he told himself.

  They were in the belly of the beast now. With a little luck, he and Tallant and ANAD would find some connection here with Shavindra and be able to breach the barrier bots there and shut down that quantum generator.

  If he didn’t suffocate to death first.

  Jeez, he thought, I had forgotten what being MOB’ed feels like. He felt like he was being smothered in a prickly, stinging quilt, wrapped up tighter and tighter.

  As the MOB net bounced along, he felt every single bump and dip and imperfection in the floor. The bruising ride lasted almost ten minutes; it seemed like hours.

  Then the bumping and bouncing stopped. The great squeeze of the barrier mesh lessened and he was finally able to breathe again. Presently, the MOB was peeled apart and ‘unzipped.’