“Psychologist?” Past Karter asked.
“Nah. He can prescribe pills. And he does so like crazy.”
“Ah. Not all bad then.”
“You haven’t had these pills yet. Muddies up the thinking. Plus, cotton mouth.”
“Ugh,” Past Karter said. “The worst.”
The arms finished handing off the guns to the nearest one again, and once again paused.
“Oh for God’s sake, BSOD, you worthless piece of crap,” fumed Past Karter.
“I didn’t get shot at this point in history, so if I shoot you, that proves this isn’t my timeline,” Future Karter proposed.
“Your reasoning sucks,” Past Karter said, pacing to the gun and trying to pull it from the gripper.
Unable to choose which Karter to present the gun to, it was unwilling to release it.
“I know, but traditional logic falls short when dealing with nonlinear time…” Future Karter said.
He scratched his head. Past Karter stopped fighting with the gripper and mirrored the gesture. The tense moment drifted toward awkwardness, with one Karter unable to kill the other, and the other unable to decide if he could safely kill the first.
Inspiration struck, prompting Lex to peek out from behind cover.
“Give the gun to me! I’ll take him out!” Lex cried.
“No one asked you,” Future Karter said, firing a shot that would have stuck Lex squarely between the eyes if he’d not taken cover again.
“Not the worst idea I’ve heard. BSOD, give the gun to John.”
“There is no one present by that name,” BSOD said.
“Lex! I’m Lex!”
“Oh, hell,” Future Karter grumbled. “If I kill you, at the very least the timeline will diverge from what I’ve got in my historical records, and that means if this plan doesn’t work, I’m going to lose the whole precognizance-through-hindsight angle I’ve been working.”
“Yeah, that’d be a hell of a thing to give up.”
“The gun, Karter!” Lex cried.
“Right, right. Give the gun to whatever John’s calling himself now. Lex, I guess,” Past Karter said.
The arms snapped into action, flipping the pistol from gripper to gripper toward Lex.
Future Karter growled to himself. “Much as I hate to do it, I’m going to have to play this one safe and go nonlethal.”
“Pansy,” Past Karter taunted.
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Future Karter said.
A panel in the back of his hand popped up and darts hissed from beneath. Six of them dug into Past Karter’s neck. He brushed them away and blinked twice.
“That all you got?”
“Damn it. Are you pre or post appendix replacement?” Future Karter grumbled.
“Post.”
“Figures.”
The arm nearest to Lex finally received the gun and lowered it down to him. He grabbed it and rolled out from cover.
When he popped up, gun in hand, and attempted to level it at Karter, the arm zipped over and plucked it from his grasp. Future Karter was distracted, staring up and away with the vague look of distraction he tended to wear when accessing internal menus. This afforded Lex the luxury of a moment to fight with the arm, jumping to try to grab the gun.
“What are you doing, BSOD!” he yelled.
“I cannot, through action or inaction, allow harm to come to a human,” BSOD explained.
“Then why aren’t you disarming Karter?”
“Karter is not brandishing his weapon with evident lethal intent. Also, Karter is unarmed,” BSOD explained, utilizing the flawed logic that results from presenting an AI with two of a supposedly unique individual.
“You worthless piece of crap!” shouted both Past Karter and Lex.
“There we are,” Future Karter said. “I never use the nonlethal stuff. Pain in the ass to find it.”
He pointed his fist at his younger self again and fired. A new round of darts found their target, and Past Karter quickly began to convulse and jerk. These darts, it seemed, were equipped with stunners. A nice heavy dose of electricity was enough to incapacitate both the flesh and circuitry that was keeping Past Karter conscious. He crumbled to the ground. Lex dove for cover again. Future Karter’s more youthful counterpart hadn’t even finished collapsing when he started issuing orders.
“Okay, BSOD. Let’s get the GMVD trussed up and put back in the box. … Oh, damn it. Young me cut the hinges. I can be a real ass sometimes. Okay, hold on to the GMVD for now and get me a porta-welder.”
The arms hastily jumped to action, selecting a large tool case from a wall rack and bringing it over to him. Lex tried to figure out what, if anything, could be done to solve this problem. The gun was still being held out of reach, as if BSOD was playing keep away with him. No doubt if he tried to force the gun cabinet and grab a new one, it too would be pulled from his grasp, and the arm had relocked the cabinet. Options were limited, and judging by the speed and precision Karter was displaying in his repairs of the GMVD crate, there wasn’t more than a few minutes to spare before he would be lugging it off to permanently alter the future and leave Lex stranded in an entirely new timeline.
He glanced to his arm panel and tapped through it, finding the mental cloak controls. He cranked them to the maximum safe level and, slowly, stalked out from behind cover. Karter didn’t look up. Lex moved as swiftly and silently as possible toward him. He began to work through his options. There was still a bit of charge in his kinetic capacitor. He could probably deliver a fairly vicious punch or kick. BSOD would probably have something to say about that, but no sense worrying about step two when step one wasn’t even a sure thing. His boots tapped against the smooth floor. As Karter finished repairing the second hinge and bent down to run some diagnostics to ensure the case was ready to use, it was now or never. He reared back and readied the activation for the capacitor, then unleashed the punch, aimed squarely at Karter’s jaw.
Lex felt the stored momentum pour into the blow, yanking him forward. This punch was going to hit like a freight train. Before him, Karter shifted, a whine of motors and a blur of motion leaving his face clear of the attack. Lex continued forward, now dragged by his empowered attack. Karter’s arm, again motivated by machinery to move far more quickly than a human being ought to be capable, darted out in front of Lex, crossing his chest and turning the would-be flying punch into an odd sort of tackle. He pivoted, dragging Lex through the air and thumping him flat on his back. The suit stiffened to absorb the impact, but Lex still had the wind knocked from him.
Karter stood and placed a boot on Lex’s neck. This, unfortunately, was not protected by the suit. When the cloth became flexible again, he reached up and grabbed Karter’s leg, fighting to lift the boot enough to let some oxygen get to his brain.
“Karter, please discontinue your lethal assault on your guest,” BSOD requested.
Most of the arms nearest to him were occupied holding the GenMech, but the one between him and the door was able to reach toward him. He back-handed it without looking.
“He’s breathing, BSOD. It’s fine,” Future Karter said.
“How… did you… see me…” Lex croaked. “The cloak… works on brains…”
“Yeah. And mine’s still meat, I know,” Karter said, tapping out a code on the lid of the box. “But believe it or not, all of this sensory apparatus hooked up to me isn’t just for show. I know what you had in your kit and planned accordingly. If you were smart, you’d have tried one of your EMPs on me, but it wouldn’t have worked because this armor is shielded against it.”
The box produced a three-tone sequence.
“Okay, we’re good to go,” Karter said. “BSOD, load the GMVD up.”
Lex struggled, gasping for air, as the arms obliged. He briefly took his hands from Karter’s leg and tapped at his arm pad. BSOD forced the GMVD into its holding crate and retracted the grippers, leaving the robot to attempt to drag itself out again. Karter slammed the lid shu
t before it could make any progress and tapped out a code to immobilize the device within.
“Now for the loose ends,” Karter said, drawing his gun.
Lex mashed the control pad again, grabbed Karter’s ankle, and heaved his other elbow against the ground. The last of the stored kinetic energy poured out, and his body popped up, forcing Karter off balance. The inventor toppled aside, hitting the ground hard, and Lex scrambled forward.
Karter grunted and leveled his weapon. Lex slid to a stop where the younger Karter had fallen and hauled the man up like a body shield.
“Heh, very clever. Risking my life, and potentially the integrity of the timeline, just to keep yourself safe,” Future Karter said. “I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”
“Karter, listen, you’ve got to—”
“Oh shut up. I’m letting you live because it’s quicker than chasing you around like a stooge trying to avoid shooting my past self. But the reason-with-the-lunatic part of the day is over.”
Lex searched his mind for some clue of what he could do, but there didn’t seem to be any use. If he abandoned the body shield, Karter would shoot him. If he found a weapon, BSOD would disarm him. He was still watching helplessly as Karter effortlessly tipped up the end of the crate and dragged it through the exit, shutting the door behind him. Lex dropped Karter and ran to the door. Rather than wait for the motors to swap the oxygen atmosphere for the local atmosphere, Karter forced the outer door open, flooding the airlock immediately. His ship was waiting, cargo hatch open toward the doorway. Karter tugged the crate near enough for a loading arm to snatch it up and tuck it inside, then casually blasted Lex’s quad before shutting the hatch and lifting off.
“Minor damage to external door of primary airlock detected. Deploying repair drone,” BSOD said cheerfully.
“BSOD! Is there anything I can do to stop Karter?” he asked.
“Karter is entirely stationary and does not require stopping,” BSOD said.
“Not this Karter, the one that just—”
Outside, the engines roared, blotting out his statement. Karter’s ship, along with the GenMech and any hope of Lex’s successful completion of his mission, disappeared into the sky.
“Please repeat your statement,” BSOD said.
“… Never mind. Just… I guess help me get Karter on his feet again. And help me get in touch with your badly needed replacement.”
#
Agent Trent took a deep breath and slid back in his chair. The Secure Communications Room was a large conference room usually used exclusively for top-ranking senior staff to discuss matters of extreme industrial secrecy. Rather than the run-of-the-mill encoded communications, which were quite secure but delivered over public communication channels, this room had a dedicated communication line that ran directly to VectorCorp’s primary headquarters. It was in essence a single unbroken link between the room and a counterpart in HQ. Such links were profoundly expensive to maintain, but ensured that the information delivered had no possibility of being spied upon en route.
For the last twenty minutes he had been delivering a thorough briefing on his findings thus far to the head of his own division. Director Hale, formerly Col. Hale, didn’t quite match his voice. He sounded like a drill instructor, but in appearance he was rather thin and gaunt, not physically imposing at all. That’s not to say he wasn’t intimidating. Though his slight build and abundance of scars made him look almost fragile in his dark blue security uniform, his eyes had an intensity that was very nearly terrifying.
The director leaned forward in his chair and seemed to consider the information he’d been given. “You do fine work, Agent,” he said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“There are a few things I want you to do for me.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Items four, seven, and thirteen on your list. I want you to create a security brief detailing all of the methods you used to identify them.”
“Those specifically?”
“Those specifically. The others don’t concern me. When your brief is complete, I want you to deliver it directly to me. I’ll give you an upgraded encryption module and a secure server to drop it. Following the completion of that task, I want to do a Class 4 wipe on your personal database. Have you discussed this information with anyone beside myself?”
“No, sir.”
“Keep it that way.”
“But, sir, I think it is clear that—”
“You’ve identified a handful of weaknesses in our data practices, and that’s admirable, Agent. Starting Monday I’m having you transferred to HQ to be my personal data adviser.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Agent?”
“Yes, sir?”
“From this point forward I want you to discontinue the usage of the term GenMech. You shall not reference it, you shall not research it. If and when you find evidence relating to the GenMech, you shall take all necessary measures to conceal it and eliminate the means to uncover it. Your knowledge of the GenMech puts you in a very elite group, Agent. If you handle this correctly, you’ll have a place at the highest levels within the security division, I’ll see to that personally. If you don’t… you’ll become a subject of interest for the Department of Acquisition, Compliance, and Oversight. A Code 3 subject. Is that understood?”
“I believe so, sir.” He knew a threat when he heard one.
“Good. Fine work, Agent. I look forward to having you on my team.”
#
“Karter? Come on, man. Snap out of it!” Lex yelled.
For fifteen minutes, either the sedative, the electrical shock, or some combination thereof had kept Karter at the brink of unconsciousness. In the past, health problems such as this were expertly tended to by Ma. BSOD was decidedly less capable.
“Pulse readings are within normal range,” BSOD said.
“His eyes aren’t even open. Don’t we have any smelling salts or something? How do you wake a guy up?”
“I can synthesize smelling salts in my chem-form.”
“… Why don’t you do that?”
“Utilization of that piece of equipment requires clearance by Dr. Dee.”
“What if he was having a cardiac episode? Would you need sign-off to administer life-saving medication then?”
“No, it would be necessary to preserve his life and therefore would be synthesized immediately.”
“This is the same thing! The whole future is at stake if we don’t get him up to help me figure out what to do!”
“In special, non-life-threatening circumstances, an exception to the access clearance can be made.”
“Then do that,” Lex said.
“I cannot comply.”
“Why not?”
“Dr. Dee must approve the request to circumvent his access privilege.”
“… So in order to wake him up, I need to wake him up so he can wake himself up or else wake him up in order for him to give me permission to wake him up?”
“Parsing run-on sentence…”
“Never mind. It was rhetorical. How’s the communication going?”
“Communication is entirely functional.”
“Can I get a message out?”
“Negative.”
“I need Karter’s permission for that too, don’t I?”
“Affirmative.”
“This is a fantastic system you’ve got going here.”
“Thank you. Your feedback is valuable. If you would like to provide additional feedback, I would be pleased to conduct a brief survey. It would only take a few minutes of your time, and it would—”
Karter slurred angrily, “Shut up with the quality assurance!”
With Lex’s help he fought himself upright and held his head. “I get to be a real asshole in a few years, I guess. What did I miss?”
“He tried to kill me a few times, then stole the GMVD.”
“Figures.”
“So what happens now?”
Karter reached u
p. A gripper lowered down and obligingly pulled him to his feet.
“First, BSOD, fresh pack of Vice Stix.”
“What flavor, Dr. Dee?”
“Kentucky Slims.”
“Acquiring.”
“Next, I’m going to get back to work.”
“But how are you going to do that? He took the GMVD.”
“You didn’t contract me to load the crap into the GMVD. You just wanted a firmware update. I’ve still got the code. So I’m finishing up.”
Lex’s eyes widened. “Do you have the hardware schematics? Can you build a new one?”
“No, I don’t have the schematic. Just the bits where the firmware hooks in. You want hardware, you include that in the contract,” Karter said.
A gripper returned with a pack of chemically infused meat products.
“Okay, good. Back to it then,” Karter said.
Lex ran his fingers through his hair, realizing for the first time how long it had been since he’d last had a shower.
“This is… this is a start… How long will it take you to finish?”
“I was probably about three hours from completion before I got zapped. Then I got zapped. So… three hours then.”
“Having your brain scrambled isn’t going to slow you down at all?”
“No. This is software. It’s not like I’m doing something actually challenging like engineering.”
“Great. Good. Excellent. That’s step one still on track. Then all we have to do is get the GMVD back… You don’t have a ship I can borrow do you?”
“No. I don’t have a ship you can borrow,” Karter said.
“What if I pay you a whole lot of money?”
“If you keep talking to me, I’m going to have to sedate you.”
“Fine, fine. One last thing. I need to get in contact with my associate. I seem to be able to receive communications but can’t initiate.”
“The fuzzy little dog?”
“Yes.”
“Will it shut you up?”
“For a while.”
“BSOD, hook him up for full two-way communication.”
“Through the helmet. For privacy.”
Karter glared at him.
“Or whatever way you want.”
Temporal Contingency Page 45
