Analog SFF, July-August 2010

by Dell Magazine Authors

  Deal caught on fast. “It appears we'd envisioned the components reversed, Doctor. The ‘robot’ must be an energy generator and DM controller, while the boxes have become the actual automaton. As you surmised, the system remained inoperative until it was complete.”

  I swallowed hard. “Just tell me what this system is for."

  The controller in robot disguise joined the conversation. “Doctor Alanso Jose Morganson.” Its usual opening and closing gambit, but this time, it wasn't finished. “In gratitude for your assistance to one of our travelers stranded and distressed far from our native galaxy, and to further our association with your employers, our siblings in trade, the wondrous and excellent Tsf who found and rescued our lost traveler, we have sent this energy servant poised before you. In one of our primary languages, we name such artificial entities dhothigon, a name you are welcome to adopt at no cost. Or you may discard it and substitute a term of your own. It is our intention for this dhothigon to be a boon in your life.”

  “Ah. Thanks. Very kind of you. Um, you don't happen to have an operator's manual for dhothigon?”

  The controller didn't reply. Maybe it had used up its quota of words for the year.

  I turned toward Deal. “You know what I find most amazing about all this?”

  “Certainly. That the Hoouk would understand Tsf perspective enough to know that we would regard a gift to you as a sign of respect to us?”

  “That's . . . not quite what I meant. What boggles my mind is that creatures living in another galaxy seem to have mastered English.”

  “I would hardly say ‘mastered.’ I found the controller's statements verbose and awkwardly constructed. But Doctor, Hoouk knowledge of your language is readily explained. They use data management techniques similar to those employed by Tsf and to a lesser degree, humans. After we opened communications with these beings, we granted them limited access to our language files. I leave it to you to make the logical inference.”

  I gave Deal a puzzled stare. “Why are you being so coy? Did you Traders, or did you not, share your knowledge of English with—”

  “I should not have essayed my small evasion. The truth is that Hoouk protocols interfaced with ours so successfully that our DM systems automatically granted them full access to our files. As to English, the Hoouk helped themselves, but despite the failure of our constraints, they probed no further than our language data. We take this as a strong indication of their good will.”

  “Wait. Are you saying their DM technology is so damn good that it broke through Tsf firewalls?”

  “I would phrase it in less violent terms, but essentially yes.”

  “That's scary.”

  Deal waved a few limbs around in a graceful way possibly intended to be reassuring. “Why?”

  “Doesn't it worry you that creatures from God knows how many light-centuries away have such an incredible grasp of . . . communication possibilities they can program their systems to even interact with yours, let alone mesh so completely?” Whoops. Phrased that way, the Tsf had basically done the same thing with us. “I mean without years of monitoring your media.”

  “It does not, although I would expect their adroitness to dazzle you considering the present limitations of human cybertechnology. Still, a logical basis exists for any effective DM design providing some measure of universality. And advanced communication skills are prerequisite for inter-species trading.”

  If Deal were really that sanguine about the security breach, she wouldn't have been embarrassed to admit it.

  “You'd know best,” I said. “But if I understand what you told me, Hoouk protocol networked with yours so well that your DMs interpreted its download demands as internal requests.”

  “Just so. Still I fail to understand why the matter upsets you.”

  “You really don't get it? If your firewalls failed, what chance do mine have? I have all sorts of confidential information on my system. Patient files, personal notes, debit card PIN—”

  “You are seeing predators where only shadows wait,” she said in a series of unusually loud clicks, and I had to stop myself from glancing down at the darkness at my feet. “What possible danger,” she added more quietly, “could ensue from this Hoouk creation accessing even your most personal data?”

  “Beats me. That's the problem. Maybe this isn't true for you, but in my life, it's been the stuff I don't know that's bitten me the hardest.”

  Deal aimed a few more visual cilia at the dhothigon. “There, you make a firm point. Your experience is not entirely outside mine in this regard. I suggest we explore your measure of control over the situation.”

  “I'm not sure what you—oh. You mean give the controller some orders and see if it salutes?”

  “I will answer yes, but tentatively since the translation of your words was highly ambiguous.”

  Being unsure which one to talk to, the controller or the “energy servant,” I addressed my entire audience. “I hereby name this dhothigon, um, Thoth. Thoth, will you obey me?”

  Thoth had nothing to add to the conversation.

  “Try an instruction,” Deal advised.

  “Okay.” I pointed to one corner of the room. “Thoth, move over there.” No response, but perhaps the Hoouk hadn't programmed the thing to understand pointing or even got the point themselves. “Thoth, come closer to me.” Another failure to communicate. I eyed the controller. “Tell me what this servant is supposed to do.”

  Deal and I both jumped a little when the controller answered. “Your Thoth has one hundred and twenty possible configurations comprising variations on five basic functions, which are to serve, defend, protect, entertain, or instruct. You can select only one function at a time.”

  “How do I select a function or know which configuration does what? And what's the difference between defending and protecting me?” For that matter, how was it supposed to entertain me? Put on a red nose and big floppy shoes?

  Again, I got the silent treatment.

  Deal burst into rapid clicking. “Doctor! Thus far the controller has only responded to a direct order.”

  My assessment of Tsf intelligence inched up, while my opinion of my own went the other way. I eyed the metal contraption and applied a voice my wife mistakenly refers to as “bossy.” “Tell me how to switch Thoth to its instructive function.”

  “That operation is currently forbidden.”

  I'd often read something similar on my 3DVD screen when trying to bypass the damn ads. “Why? I mean, tell me why!”

  “You have configured Thoth in an aggressively protective mode that entails special security features.”

  As I was getting that interesting news, flashing red letters appeared in the upper part of my vision to provide more of the same: DOWNLOAD IN PROGRESS; SIGNIFY YES IF A FILE-BY-FILE READOUT IS DESIRED.

  Not good. I tried shutting down the system. When that failed, I subvocalized “yes” and watched the data zip by far too fast to actually read. But it wasn't quite the hyperdrive blur I'd feared, so the interface had some sort of bottleneck. Latching onto that one buoy of hope, I whipped my DM ring off my finger and threw it across the room. Even that didn't stop the theft.

  “I assume there is purpose to your unusual behavior?” Deal asked.

  Could be I snarled a little. “My DM just let me know that it's lying down and purring while something is stealing my private files.” If there's one thing I hate, it's when my most paranoid fears come true.

  “I suggest you address the controller.”

  “Right. Hey, controller, stop that download right now!”

  “That operation is currently forbidden.”

  Perfect. “Then tell me what you're looking for.”

  “Thoth seeks information concerning threats to your wellbeing.”

  How about Thoth itself? “Tell me what it will do if it finds any threats.”

  “Your servant will protect you.”

  That didn't sound so bad at face value, but this was another face I couldn't
read. “How? I mean, tell me how.”

  “The means depend on the threats.”

  Deal speared my ring with the tip of one limb and silently offered it back to me. Just as I put it back on my finger, the bizarre form of my unhired protector drifted toward the doorway. I couldn't tell how Thoth propelled itself, but its movement was snail-smooth and rabbit-fast. Like an idiot, I leapt sideways to block the servant's exit and banged into Deal, who was being an idiot in the opposite direction. Thoth pushed us aside gently, but with a strength even a Tsf couldn't resist, and headed into the hallway without bothering to use the open door. The macramite wall shattering made a noise that put Wednesday's explosion, by comparison, into the appropriate-for-church category.

  Deal and I just looked at each other for a moment; macramites are incredibly tough when linked and no amount of electromagnetic muscle could've given Thoth enough traction to break the wall. But the floor was covered with tiny Vapabondi machines already scrambling to reassemble themselves. I had time for one bitter thought along the lines of et tu, physics? before a second horrific CRUNCH ahead got me stumbling over the slippery backs of macramites to follow my supposed servant. I only fell twice.

  Deal, being far more sure-limbed than any middle-aged human psychiatrist, reached the reception area ahead of me and clicked so loudly the translation was a shouted, “Stop that entity!”

  I leaped over a second carpet of macramites where Thoth had taken out the corner of another wall in time to see L spring through the air like an Art Nouveau rocket, the massive jumping leg he'd extruded trailing behind. He hit Thoth with a force that would've knocked a house off its foundations, but the Hoouk creation didn't even quiver. Impossible. L expressed tentacles and tried to latch on. Thoth flicked one ineffective-looking mini-limb and the little push hurled my receptionist across the room to smash into his own desk. Tad, likely drawn by all the noise, galloped in from one of the east-wing corridors but braked fast after spotting the glittering monster.

  "L?" I bellowed. “You all right?” His silence scared me more than Thoth did.

  My faithless servant scooted past Tad, who'd courageously jumped out of the way. Then the shadow at my feet gathered itself up and flowed forward.

  “Gara! Stop!”

  I was already too late. She'd pooled herself around Thoth's . . . feet or whatever it had and her blackness turned shiny. The old banana-peel-on-the-floor routine, I thought. That won't work; this bastard rolls its own traction.

  Sometimes I hate to be right. The bastard glided effortlessly over my PT and crashed through the outer wall, but at least Gara seemed unhurt in the process. Bathed in morning sunlight, Thoth slowed to a slow but relentless crawl; its body grew a few feet taller, its internal glitter flared into blinding coruscations. Nothing could've looked more dangerous.

  I turned my head and my knees felt weak from relief. L had begun to stir. Then I noticed something that shoved a fresh icicle up my spine. Although the broken walls were already partly rebuilt, I could trace the line of damage. It was dead straight, aimed north by northeast and pointed directly at a certain house on the next street ahead, the residence of one Bradley S. Pearson. A sliver of Brad's gray shingles peeked at me from between two homes across from the clinic, as did a hint of the ocean farther beyond.

  By stealing my personal files, Thoth could access every conversation I'd had since my last data-dump, six months ago. Something told me my alien Frankenstein's experiment would soon give Bradley, or more probably his widow, something truly worth suing about. This was shaping up to be a very bad morning for both Mr. Litigious and me.

  “L,” I called. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not significantly.”

  “Good!” I turned to my supposed security officer. “Tad, that nightmare outside is a kind of robot. If you've got any Vapabondi super-weapons tucked away, get them. Now listen, everyone! Looks like our wall-breaker is just, um, moseying along now, maybe to soak up a few rays. I'm praying we'll have enough time to figure out how to stop it.”

  “Why should we?” Tad asked.

  A bad moment for Tad to suddenly get interactive, but par for her course. “Deal and I have learned that it's been programmed to . . . handle anything threatening me. So it's heading toward the thing that's threatened me most often.”

  “Mr. Pearson,” L said, using Bradley's obnoxious voice.

  “Right. And I doubt the robot is planning to negotiate. Ideas, anyone?”

  “Certainly,” Deal proclaimed with a single, confident snap. “The controller must be disabled. I suggest that you and I along with the Vithy do what we can to impede the robot's progress. Meanwhile the Pokaroll, who has witnessed the disassembly procedure, should attempt to dismantle the controller. Your surprising Vapabond can assist.”

  Surprising? No time to ask. I glanced outside. Judging from Thoth's increasing speed, I guessed it had nearly finished sunbathing. Worse, Phillips and Braun, my guardians parked on the street, were sliding out of their patrol car, weapons already drawn. I ran out the direct way, through the wall's new hole, just beginning to self-heal.

  “What is that thing?” Phillips yelled to me.

  “Tell you later. Put those guns away, for God's sake!” Considering Thoth's Aggressive Protection mission, I figured nothing good would happen if it got the impression the cops were targeting me. And if the cops actually fired? While I was damn sure bullets couldn't dent a Hoouk energy servant, that didn't mean the robot wouldn't shoot back somehow.

  The cops lowered their .38s, maybe thanks to the panic in my voice, but they didn't holster them. Bad mistake. Thoth stopped dead. A lenslike protrusion emerged from its glittering torso, pointed exactly between the two officers. I'm no sprinter, but would've surely broken some world record that day, if I'd run that fast on my own. Instead, a textured shadow slid under my feet and flowed in the direction I was running like a super-speed moving walkway. I reached my destination so quickly that I stumbled trying to avoid overrunning the spot. But I got there in time.

  The little lens-bubble took one peek at Dr. Human Shield before sinking back into Thoth's body and I trusted that this danger, at least, was over.

  “Thanks,” I murmured to Gara, now appearing as a deep purple haze, and she gave me a don't-mention-it sort of wriggle. Unfortunately, my latest feeling of relief had a minuscule half-life. Two smaller bubbles zoomed out from Thoth, whipped around me, and settled on the cops’ foreheads. Officers Phillips and Braun didn't just stop moving, they seemed to congeal. For a second, I was terrified that they'd been frozen stiff, and would shatter when they fell over. And they did fall when I couldn't reach them fast enough, but they didn't even crack. The robot started off again, still aimed at Pearson headquarters. “Gara, we can't do anything here, but I've got to get to Bradley's house before that monster does. Can you carry me that far?”

  I could barely hear her response. “Sorry, Al. I'd need to recharge first.”

  “But I can manage that small task,” Deal said. I hadn't realized she'd gotten close enough to overhear. “If you wouldn't find it beneath your dignity, Doctor?”

  “Hardly. Let's go! What should I do?”

  “Enjoy the ride.” With those cheery words, Deal wrapped limbs around my waist and legs, then hoisted me surprisingly high into the air and took off, bounding across the street as if Earth's gravity was on coffee break. I didn't much enjoy the experience, but had to admit that Deal got the job done.

  She put me down outside Bradley's back door and I barged in.

  Bradley S. sat at his kitchen table gluing snips of colored veneers to a rectangular board. He looked up at me with the ire of a man interrupted mid-marquetry and uncharacteristically let me have it, both barrels. “Knock much?”

  Normally, I find that particular TV-dialog-meme annoying, but today my attention was elsewhere. “Brad, you're in danger! Run out your front door and keep running. Hurry!” Deal squeezed into the kitchen as I was talking.

  Bradley stared at the Trader for a second to
o long and then it was too late. Four glittering claws smashed through the sheetrock behind me and then pulled most of the wall out accompanied by an ear-splitting concerto of snaps, crunches, squeals, and bangs. Thoth glided through the newborn dust cloud and over the pile of fresh rubble. It brushed past Deal and tenderly pushed me aside. One of its many claws elongated into long serrated pinchers that opened wide and began closing around Bradley's thin neck. I'd never seen anyone look so terrified, and even though it wasn't my neck in the alien guillotine, my blood turned to gel.

  And time seemed to freeze. Each tick of the oversized clock mounted on one undamaged kitchen wall came slow and far apart. Dust motes lazed in the morning light streaming though Thoth's remodeling project. The big hole tugged at my attention. My supposed protector hadn't smashed into the house in its usual modus operandi; it had pulled the wall out. Why? Because I stood on the other side and would've gotten hurt. That insight told me what to do, or at least what to try. . . .

  “THOTH! If you kill this man, I will also die.” I had to believe the robot would understand me even if it wouldn't obey me in its current mode. And I was counting on its protective programming.

  Thoth didn't release Bradley, but its pincher didn't close. My neighbor gazed at me with eyes that were too scared to plead, and I did my best to convey a reassurance I didn't feel. The impasse stretched on and there seemed no safe way to break it.

  Then, for the first time, Thoth proved that it could speak. “You will not die when Bradley S. Pearson dies.” Its voice had a gelatinous tremolo but an ice-cold edge—murder in aspic.

  The pinchers closed just enough to squeeze Bradley's neck without breaking the skin. Brad made a nearly noiseless whimper and I felt sweat run down my back. “You're wrong! Killing him will destroy my reputation and career. The guilt will make me kill myself.”