Voices in the Stream: Phase 02 (The Eighteenth Shadow)

by Grafton, Jon Lee

  William looked at the animals. Their eyes were locked on his.

  “What were they failing to do in Safe Mode then?”

  “When they’re being controlled by our mainframe, they just follow commands like robots. Their response time is degraded. They look to Joan for answers to every piece of complex environmental stimuli they encounter. As opposed to IR, in which case they defer only to you apparently. They now can constantly absorb and learn, increasing the fractal density of their code with each new experience.”

  William said, “Well damn, I’m honored. They all got names? Tech compliments?”

  Dax moved slightly closer, still observing the cyborgs warily, “I haven’t been terribly creative there. I just use their default designations. The big one is SIEGFRIED class, BIOS model AK9CIV 7.1. The female on his right is FREYA class, BIOS model AK9CIV 6.7. Both are equipped with retractable 40 mm TOHO particle cannons. LOFN, who you met first, and her sister, SNOTRA, came as twins. They’re both AK9CIV 6.0 models, slower, not as strong. But all four run on independent micro-fusion matrices and have flexible, synth-diamond, graphene backed motherboards with AMD Quantum 9 processors.”

  William raised his eyebrows, “TOHO cannons? I heard rumors they got weaponized borgs on the lunar ranges, makes the hunting a little more exciting. Them Quantum 9 processors run the new Mars shuttles, right?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Damn.”

  “Damn is most adequate. These are the most advanced CIV class borgs available in the world today. These particular units were assembled in Israel. Their skeletal chassis are encased in self repairing graphene network conduits, BIOSKIN© Level six, seven on the bigger two. Complete tissue regeneration in eighteen hours, onboard gallium/arsenic nanobot maintenance, temporal masked fusion cores. Our,” Dax cleared his throat, “office manager has removed the expiration language from their bios. They are totally self-sustaining, cybernetic organisms embedded with domesticated canine psych engrams. For our benefit, that makes them require human interaction for optimal function.”

  “What is their capacity for verbal?”

  “They can understand almost anything. If they can’t, it will be translated to a binary response and pushed by Joan from the com station.”

  “I gotta meet this Joan lady.”

  “We’re getting to that,” said Dax. “The real question is whether they will voluntarily respond to a full battery of commands. Care to try?”

  “Sure.”

  William put his hands on his hips and looked at the three Rottweilers who were still sitting dutifully, following every motion he made.

  He used standard trainer gestures as he spoke, “Stand.”

  They immediately stood.

  “Show me your vidorbs.” The micro-holograms in front of the cyborgs’ eyes collapsed. “Excellent. Okay, down.” They dropped to the floor, eagerly watching through their now bright red eyes. William tilted his head at Dax, “All right. Let’s try something a little more complicated. All three of you sit, eyes organic. FREYA and SIEGFRIED, spool TOHO cannons.”

  The DOGS units sat in unison. Their holographic eyes flashed back. SIEGFRIED’s jaw dropped open unnaturally wide like the jaw of a snake with a hollow, pneumatic click. The telescoping particle cannon extended rapidly, protruding twelve centimeters beyond his muzzle. FREYA’S jaws performed the same motion, but at a much slower pace.

  As soon as SIEGFRIED’S TOHO weapon began glowing faint red, the same female voice William had heard in the hovlimo came over the warehouse com, “Warning. Spooling particle weapons in proximity to the primary fusion reactor is not recommended.”

  Dax touched his combud, “Sorry.” He shrugged amicably, “Apologies, William. That’s Joan. We had best play with the guns outside.”

  William was busily examining the silver TOHO cannon that had finally come out of FREYA’S throat aperture, “No problem, sir. Okay dogs, retract weapons.”

  The cannon in SIEGFRIED’s mouth retracted within seconds and his jaw shifted back to a normal anatomical appearance. The same process happened in virtual slow motion for FREYA.

  The computerized voice spoke again, “Your compliance is appreciated.”

  William whistled again, “Is cannon deployment time the main difference between these two?”

  “Correct. And he’s faster and stronger. SNOTRA and LOFN are rated as CSF6 borgs. FREYA is CSF7. SIEGFRIED has a CSF8 rating.”

  “CSF8? Bad ass,” said William. He whistled low and extended both hands away from his chest in a sweeping motion, “Go be free.”

  The DOGS units jumped up and milled about, panting happily, then encircled William’s legs and plopped to the cool cement by his boots looking entirely relaxed, heads on their paws.

  Dax Abner touched his jaw, “Joan, do you have anything to contribute?”

  The computerized female voice responded, “As predicted, the human designated as William Thomas Angevine is capable of tethering. Quantitative processing efficiency on DOGS units beta through epsilon has increased 2.3%. Shall I spool THOR in IR mode as well?”

  William smiled at Dax inquisitively, “I’m guessing Joan is really a supercomputer of some sort?”

  “You could say that.”

  “You have a fifth borg? THOR?”

  “What did you think the freight elevator was for?”

  Fragmented Remains From the Cloud Diary of Daxane Julius Abner – October 30, 2077 9:41 pm – Four Years Eleven Months Before Event.

  “…last of the civilians have left. Oh good Dog, this Halloween nonsense. I forgot how much I detested hayrides and screaming children, minds littered with sugary drinks wiping October snot on their pants! We are a pumpkin farm, however. We all play a part. It was vastly easier with William here this season. He does not seem to mind the brats; incessant symbols of mindless fluid exchange that they are. One child spilled a Coca Cola on my shoe. I would have liked to have locked the little mongrel in a closet. Not for long. Just a few days, until it was unconscious, could be packaged up and returned to the appropriate orphanage.

  Hugo dressed up as a scarecrow. And for what it is worth, the gourds are lovely this year. Banners, ribbons, balloons. William had all four of the Rottweilers out! They rolled about in the fields and children petted them, adults chatted with William about what spectacular specimens they were. We placed artificial bone sheaths on their canines/incisors, instructed them to keep their tongues in a position where the microchip was not visible. One gentleman, apparently an NAKC breeder, asked William if he cared to sire SIEGRIED? The poor bitch who would be the recipient of that love I can onl… UNSCHEDULED HARDWARE DESTRUCT / DATA COMPROMISE / INITIATE BACKUP.EXE FOR REINTEGRATION FORMA… LOSS. LOSS. LOS”

  The more extreme a situation, the more stable and quiet William became. At the mention of a MIL class DOGS unit, he crossed his arms and stood like a statue.

  “Don’t be frightened,” said Dax. “I only presume you will be able to control the big one also. Joan, spool THOR, full IR.”

  William spoke quietly, “I’m not frightened. I just won’t believe it until I see him. Are the CIV and MIL units network compatible?”

  “The five DOGS units regard each other as hierarchical components on the same intrastream. THOR is alpha…”

  William interrupted, “Got it. SIEGFRIED is beta, FREYA gamma, LOFN delta and SNOTRA is last. Have you ever spooled the THOR unit outside safe mode?”

  Dax pursed his lips quizzically, “Let’s see… no. Considering he could destroy the entire facility with ease, it never seemed prudent.”

  William pulled his hat off his head and scratched his sideburns, “How long’s it take for him to…”

  From the dark end of the warehouse beyond the wisps of steam rising over the still, came a low, mournful howl like a sparking locomotive engine, “Aaaaaaaohwwwwwwwwwwoooooooooooool…”

  Dax Abner placed his hands, one of which was lightly trembling, in his pockets and raised an eyebrow, “Well, he’s never made that noise befo
re.”

  SIEGFRIED, FREYA and SNOTRA barked loudly and darted into the dark recesses of the warehouse. Their yip and whines echoed over the cement as they vanished.

  The hair on William’s arms stood up at the sound of THOR’S first steps. The air seemed to cool a few degrees, like a rapid barometric pressure drop. Those first steps moved slowly towards them from the blackness, doong-donk – doong-donk. Pause. Then they came more quickly, doong-donk, doong-donk-doong-donk! The Rottweilers burst around the corner of the still running out in front. The first thing William saw was THOR’S blue vidorbs, glowing and strangely hesitant, shining through the steam and shadows. Then he stepped into the light.

  AK9MILalpha THOR’s chassis was not encased in BIOSKIN©. It had a physical architecture designed to one purpose, inspiring terror on the battlefield. His head, nearly the size of a duffel bag, was at eye level with William as he approached. The giant cyborg walked on foot pedestals anatomically similar to a dog’s paw, with four clawed toes and rubcrete pads that could be instantly deployed or retracted dependent upon terrain. The cranial fuselage was aerodynamic and smooth, based on the skull structure of a dire wolf. The skull and chassis itself were made of reinforced, unpolished titanalum the color of slate. Natural surface imperfections in the alloy had been retained to minimize light reflection. His 25 cm canine teeth curved beneath the jaw, protruding from the armored jowls like black daggers tipped with carbide. The torso design, similar to his smaller siblings, was that of a dog skeleton, however the false rib cage was gone, replaced by a curved slab of titanalum scored with armored structural junctions. Unlike the CIV models, who bore their torso blast plates inside anatomically correct BIOSKIN© ribs, the designers of the MIL borgs had made no effort to camouflage the true nature of these beasts. His legs were jointed like a dogs, but the bones were smoothed titanalum girders. His neck was composed of hundreds of layered discs of synthetic muscle armor through which the flexible barrel of a 220 mm TOHO cannon and bundles of fiber optic cable ran in precisely organized conduits. The chassis was so perfectly designed and lubricated that every motion the enormous cyborg made was silent aside from the unmistakable, padded thud of his footfalls.

  William was surprised that the only visible colors on the cyborg were the slate gray of the titanalum and the black of Kevlar encased cables exposed along limb connectors when he moved. The faint, blue glow of his onboard fusion reactor poked along the abdominal seam, giving THOR ground effects. His vidorbs were of the same tone, the burning cobalt hue of a cloudless, afternoon sky.

  Upon stepping into the pools of light that illuminated the front half of the warehouse, THOR paused two meters in front of William. Dax Abner stood behind and to the left, one hand supporting his chin. The enormous cyborg’s eyes fixed directly on William. The smaller Rottweilers encircled their tether protectively.

  It was suddenly clear to William that the future of Dax Abner’s super still hinged upon what was going to happen next. He wanted to believe that the smaller cyborgs would come to his defense if THOR decided to go rogue and attack. Of course by the time such a decision was made, it would be too late for any humans in the room.

  William could hear the air whistling as it was sucked in and analyzed on a molecular level by the olfactory scanners in THOR’s muzzle. William had no fear. His heart rate slowed even further. He knew the cyborg still believed it was a dog. With that in mind, he stepped forward gently, as though approaching an untamed horse, never averting his gaze from the cyborg’s vidorbs.

  He knew they were in no danger when THOR turned his head away and shifted focus to Dax Abner. The cyborg opened his metal jaws and howled, clearly some form of reproach. The sound echoed through the chamber, deafeningly loud.

  Caught by instinct, William yelled in response, “No!”

  THOR immediately shifted focus back to William and made a snorting sound, then bowed his head.

  “Fascinating,” said Dax, extracting a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

  “I don’t think he wants to be put to sleep again, sir,” said William. “And never take your eyes off his when he looks at you. When any of them look at you. Always let them shift their focus first.”

  Dax’s tone was calm as he returned the handkerchief to his pocket, “Understood.”

  “I can hear his thoughts,” said William. “The only thing he fears is the darkness of being forced back into safe mode.”

  “I will be happy to leave him onstream. Provided you can control him, that is.”

  William put a hand on THOR’s head. The heavy metal was cold. He could feel a steady vibration resonating through the animal’s chassis.

  “They’re aware that I can shut them down, or impose restrictions on their functioning. But they know I’m not choosing to do it.”

  “DOGS unit programmers call that the relational equilibrium between operator and subject.”

  “Right,” said William, smiling. “Hunters call it mutual respect.”

  William removed his hand and said in a cheerful tone, “THOR!”

  The cyborg looked at him and its mouth fell open. William knew the big borg would be panting if he had a tongue. The hundreds of armored plates that made up his jowls convened into a dog’s smile.

  “William?” said Dax.

  “Yes sir, sorry. They’re so damn light. I’ve seen battborg lions, tigers, but never anything like this. He’s running independent fusion too, right?”

  “Correct. These creatures are as close to immortal as it gets,” said Dax. His tone returned to its normal garrulous lilt, “At the moment, however, now that we know we’re not going to die, I would like to move on to the third phase of your orientation. It’s time to meet Joan.”

  “But I just met THOR. Can’t I talk to the computer from anywhere?”

  Dax smiled wryly, “I think it’s best that you meet in person.”

  William shook his head, “Alright THOR, SIEGFRIED, all of you; go lay down. And don’t destroy anything.”

  Without pause, THOR, almost playfully, trotted to the far wall of the warehouse with SIEGFRIED, FREYA and LOFN on his heels. The big DOGS unit orbited the spot where he intended to lay thrice before curling his massive form into a tight semi-circle and dropping to the concrete with a heavy clank. The Rottweilers piled in front of THOR’S tucked metal legs like three fuzzy bean bags, then all four cyborgs lay their heads to the floor in unison. Their vidorbs tracked William as he walked across the warehouse, following Dax Abner through the blast door into the aquarium.

  Fragmented Remains from the Cloud Diary of Daxane Julius Abner – January 13, 2078 6:01 am – Four Years Nine Month Before Event.

  “…rrangement with her parents has been made. The next step is contact with Ms. Nichols herself. Leonard and Marjel Nichols are sympathizers, run a small solar still. They were proponents during the PR and have been growing ganja independently since the 50’s. No corporate affiliation. Leonard Nichols was an amateur boxer in his younger years, cantankerous to say the least. One Bmod stint on his record, including an assault charge on a CNED volunteer.

  What is important is that the Nichols have agreed to Phase II. They are letting me use their barn loft for component storage. Currently these components amount to eight A7 drones, four CIV DOGS units, two MIL units and a mothballed Hadassa 2.0 reactor, all in crates. The 4,000 acre Nichols property will be Secondcity. Facility construction will be handled by the Israeli and his squadron of builder bots.

  I also have Mr. Nichols’ consent to hire his daughter, Dorothy. Did I say that? Tired this evening. Though we have not shared this with the old man, Joan predicts an 89% likelihood of a successful monogamous pairing between the girl and William. William is (our entire operation is, according to Joan) in need of female influence. The farmhouse, divided into its three respective apartments, currently contains an extra one bedroom and a guest room. Goran, being a dwarf, lives underground in the basement of the house. He has requested to Joan via means not entirely understood that a tunnel be c
onstructed from the warehouse to his domicile so he never have to be under open sky again. I informed him that I would take this suggestion under advisement. My residence is the smallest, the attic. William currently occupies the largest apartment on the second floor. At least two of the CIV units stay in the apartment with him each evening. Another accompanies THOR in the warehouse, and one borg is always on patrol through the night hours. THOR, since IR activation, is more than content to lay mostly dormant, as long as he has company from the pack and is visited twice daily by his tether.

  William occasionally leaves the land to stay overnight in the city. I do not permit him to bring any of his totties to the property. As for Hugo, he maintains an apartment in downtown Lawrence, a residence shared with girlfriend, Juliandra Hart, all records clear. Cat the kitten and an endless supply of holoflix seem to satisfy Goran’s social interests. He keeps largely to himself if there is not work to be done, liquor to be consumed or breakfast to be made.

  Thus I have the still team: distributions manager, tether, field bots to make the farm appear to fulfill its function of growing and selling pumpkins. Now I need the operations manager to complete this system. Dorothy Nichols. She is the stabilizing forc… UNSCHEDULED HARDWARE DESTRUCT / DATA COMPROMISE / INITIATE BACKUP.EXE FOR REINTEGRATION FORMA… LOSS. LOSS. LOS”

  William passed through the blast door into a narrow corridor barely wide enough for two people. As soon as they were past the threshold, the door slid shut with a near-silent pneumatic hush. The walls were insulated with black rubcrete and a green, glowing light filled the hall. He followed Dax another five meters, now moving south. At the end of the corridor the light was brighter and more yellow. They turned right again, entering a cavernous room a quarter the size of the warehouse itself. Based on a reasonable sense of direction, William figured they must be under the west end of the barn. He now understood the source of the greenish light.

  The circular aquarium, braced with titanalum beams as thick as a man’s leg, occupied the geometric center of the room, allowing four meters of walking space on either side. The habitat was filled with a complex, brightly colored reef system. White sand covered the bottom of the tank, twinkling beneath a SimulSun© skylight complimented by strands of chartreuse kelp that floated up, languidly waving in the artificial saltwater currents.