by Kit Falbo
The tiny neon girl twirls about in the air, doing a summersault then flicks her hand out sending a ray of sparkles to the ground. A massive rectangular tree with glistening glowing neon pods grows out of the earth.
“I Pinkcocious will show to the world that you should have stayed an apprentice!” the girl squeaks out in a loud but adorable voice.
It is Lily’s turn to set the stage. She plants the staff in the ground. It bulges and bubbles under the wood expanding and growing until an outer shell crumbles off leaving a grandfather clock. I recognize it as the same trick I used in my last wizard battle as Joontal. Only one thing has changed, instead of hours and minutes, it lists days and hours. The clock is showing seven days and four hours.
“Hear me now, the time to act is soon.” Peels of thunder and dark clouds start to swirl around her. “Early will I make your demise. So says Lily Lowman.”
It’s a totem match. More importantly, it is a message for me. “This from today?” I ask the group.
“Transit times and scheduling. I would say this happened about two hours ago.” Madeline answers.
Both players are amateurs, throwing balls of energy back and forth with no strategy, probably with limited time to practice because of how short notice the match is. Totum battles are also not very popular.
Ten minutes in it is tied two solid hits each. The clock has some glowing neon goo on it from exploding neon balls. The tree has some sizzling scorch marks leaving little bits of smoke. It’s a hit Lily should have been able to catch. I watch as she misses it.
“Darn shame.” Dale complains.
In Pinkcocious’s finishing move the fruits fly from her totem and splat onto the clock and Lily. The colors start to swirl together faster and faster. The clock goes up in a pillar of flame, moments later Lily does too. My heart jumps to my chest as I see her scream in anguish and go to her knees. I have a moment of relief when I notice the pattern in the flicker of the flame. It’s the same trick I use as cocky Talos June to set myself on fire. You do it enough times you recognize those details. The burning wood and burning mage remind me of the video that helped get all this started. The fires end and Lily gets up looking annoyed and covered in ash. Her hair singed in several places. “I’ll work harder, and I will beat you!” she declares.
The club starts talking about other things, and I forget my previous plans. I might not have picked up all the details. We had plans for this type of message, and one thing is clear, I have seven days to deal with this from my end of the universe or leave before whatever trouble releasing my file to authorities brings.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Seven days is not a lot of time. In reality, it is even less than that because I’m not one to put things off to the last minute. I was supposed to have weeks to ease into this. “Flip a coin. Heads I stay here and finish my research. Tails I pack it up and go home." I pull out a bit of the local money. The giant space station is embossed on one side; on the other, it lists the denomination. The station will be heads for the coin flip. I let my right-hand flip and watch it spin. Quickly my right-hand lashes out, catching it. Face up in the palm is the image of the station. ”Time to get to work.”
I approach my storage locker. There are two others set up, one for Tess and one for Belle, each containing supplies we might need. Belle could have raided hers already for all I know. Each filled for different roles we could play. I enter my code and go inside. Even filled with crates, it is roomier than the room I’d rented. Doesn’t count as registered space though, station authority strictly controls that to limit the population. One crate is filled with traditional military weapons, as much as I sold Lily on my skills there to convince her not to come; it just isn’t me.
I pick three crates filled with equipment to run a tech testing lab as well as signal filters for work on the debonding code. If my theory is right, they’ll be useless here, but one of the reasons why I selected them for this mission is other ways I can use them. Flipping the switches on the bottom of the crate allows them to float, so it is easy to tie them together and make a train out of them. Next, I use the station interface to rent space for setting up the lab. Anyone watching or reviewing what I’ve done here will logically assume I’m going off the inspiration I received in Club Bananas. After all, what is the number one rule of a performance, never break character.
I work late, just setting up the lab to look precisely how it is supposed too. Nevermind that half the equipment are dummies with other uses if I need them. People have to see what they expect to see. A late breakfast at the Hot Box and I have several more doodles to put up on the wall. How much time do I give Tess to get updated? Will she even agree with my course of action? I’ll have to do this relying on just what I have on me. Not today though, tomorrow night I’ll up the risk. Today is just killing time to let Tess do what she is going to do.
My computer alerts me that I have a message. “Hey JT, Dale here, can we meet up I have a favor to ask of you?”
I don’t like it. That little club is weird, hell how I was invited too it was weird. They are all surprisingly warm and welcoming. I could pull up their Freedom Station information, but that seems rude, and they would probably get a notification that I did that. I set it up so I would be informed if anyone looked into me. So far, only Madeline and that Arbiter Lock have done it. I’m surprised more haven’t, but I guess they have better things to spend their money on. Sometimes in moments of banter about some crazy theory, it seems like everyone is playing a competitive game of cards trying to predict what their opponent is going to do.
JT, the slightly gullible man he is, who has been enjoying both the company and thoughts of home, has no reason to question this request. It would be odd if he said no or didn’t reply. Never break character. “Sure, just let me know where and when you want to meet.” I reply.
Where is a cafe within viewing distance of the intake docks, when is about an hour. I walk slowly, letting me take in the atmosphere of the station. About one in ten people have privacy suits, either plain almost formless coverings or alternatives that made them look like celebrities or historical figures. I suspect more are like me and just making themselves average enough to blend into the crowd. That is only the people. UIs zoom about in various shape and designs. It is apparent in how they get out of the way of people that they are second class citizens, if you can even call them that. One is too slow, and a person kicks it into a wall. I don’t think I like Freedom Station.
I’m early but so is Dale. He waves, he didn’t need to, his big white cowboy hat made him stand out from the crowd. I pick up the pace until I’m near him. “Hi, Dale.”
“Howdy to you too. Take a seat JT. They have some of the best coffee around here, it’s synthetic, but you can’t tell it from the real thing.”
I cut to the chase. “You said you needed a favor?”
“I’d like to know that debonding theory you thought of. We never did get back to that while we were all talking last night.”
“Dale, I think my employer would look down on me sharing my ideas and findings. I haven’t even fully explored or tested it out yet. If I said it out loud wouldn’t everybody know? It’s also not like I’m that special. There have been thousands of researchers who’ve come here with their own ideas, and none of them have worked out.”
“I think you sell yourself short. When you grab the reins of a conversation, I see something more than just a tech there. It’s not a coincidence that you sit with us or that we sit together. We’re all more than we seem. I have a small private ship, we can take it out, and you can tell me. Or at least listen to what I’m offering you. I’ll give you a hundred stations just to fly with me and hear me out.“ He offers his hand.
My right arm reaches out and clasps his hand. “Transaction accepted I guess.”
Small is an understatement for Dale’s ship. The spaceship is a two-seater, only room for a pilot and co-pilot. most of the mass is all engine, its made for high-speed normal space actions,
both acceleration and sharp turns. “Yeehaw!” He yells as he accelerates yet again. “Should be out of range of anyone who gets too nosy.”
“So you want to convince me to give you my thoughts on debonding? I’m guessing you’re some flavor of abolitionist? A lot of people are interested, but that’s the only group I think really wants it.”
“Like I said smart. I almost thought you were one of mine, bet Jess twenty stations on it. You set up funds for the UI you brought, and from what I’ve seen of them, they’re a unique pair since getting here. Belle and Tess right?”
“That’s their names. I don’t know what they’re doing now. I haven’t even tried to contact them since they left me. As for the funds, I’ve heard what can happen to UI on Freedom Station. I’m a little surprised that after seeing what happens here first hand, that you want freedom for them.”
He shifts uncomfortably, I can see I hit a nerve. “Freedom Station is why. The ones that do succeed on their own, gaining careers and friends, are just like you and me. They are an example for everyone. You’ve seen Finn and Madeline. If we can free them someplace not so cruel, not so isolating, then we can show the world they deserve it.”
“I can’t say I’m not sympathetic. But I have my employer.”
“Bullshit!” Dale calls on me. “Like the rest at that table, you have secrets. I don’t know how you sent the right signals to have Kong bring you to us, but he did. Madeline thinks the odds are you are what you appear to be. I’ll bet that you are not on Freedom Station to research debonding.”
“If I’m not there to research debonding, why do you want my opinion?”
“You’re smart. I want to hear your opinion. I’ll pay you ten thousand Stations. I’ll even sit on it long enough to keep your employer happy if you want to play that game.”
My right-hand snaps at that. I was in that group for a reason, and I’m here for a reason as well, I take Dale's hand. “I don’t need your money. I want to know about everyone at our table. What you know and what you think their secrets are? I’m guessing Joontal didn’t found the group.”
I know I’m asking a lot, Dales gray mustache twitches. “You’ve got us there. We found out you were a fan and from that planet and thought we could use it to keep your interest in us while we figured you out. The idea particularly amused Finn. I’ll tell you what you want. It’s not a lot and mostly guesses.”
“That’s fine.”
“We’re power players and the get together is a way to trade information, plans, resources. I’ve taken each of them out several times to trade some bit of information. Even if I don’t know their goals. No, I won’t tell you exactly what information was exchanged, too specific. Though I will tell you what I think I’ve learned from trading with them. You guess right. I run the Abolitionists on freedom station. We try to help where we can, but mostly we’ve been trying to figure out the debonding code so we can start a real revolution.”
“And Jess?”
“I believe she is part of a group that smuggles illegal tech out of the Station. She has at least told me out here, that if any of my compatriots need something along those lines, she could acquire them for me.”
“Madeline?”
“The UIs are a pickle. Smarter than us, with their own goals. She has fingers in Humedroid creation. She also seems close to the sex-bot kink crowd. If I had to guess, I think she works for the AMU. Is the AMU interested in what you’re doing on Freedom Station JT? She’s kept her access to your information open. I know that much, that way it’s not being flagged for multiple accesses. ”
“I’m an AMU Tech, that’s not a lie. Maybe I make them nervous. What about Finn?”
“Old magician’s UI from back before the association was founded. Data dealer. Buys whatever he can get his hands on and on any topic. Has a little bit of a mean sense of humor, can’t prove it is him, but I’ve seen waitresses at the Banana Club have accidents when he’s around. More likely to slip and hurt themselves, nothing direct.”
Is any of this useful? “That all?”
Dale let out a sigh. “Like I said the information I have is thin. I wondered if you were here for the cause. Jess wondered if you wanted Illegal tech. Finn if you needed data. Madeline, the kinky or humedroid community. You want to tell me that idea that struck you?”
A deal is a deal. “You’re not going to like it. My theory is that it’s not a signal, or a code, or a program or even an update. Damaged UI needs syndrome. When UIs have to recover from some damage, they don’t feel themselves anymore, not as good, missing some bit of themselves. You’ll often need them to bond to a new person to get them to perform better. I think the station authority is selectively subtly damaging the UI’s code, severing the bonds. A UI’s code is always changing, and everyone would expect it to be different after getting free. I think they are carefully damaging the UI to cause this, and then dressing it up, so others will think there is some big tech mystery behind it. “ My right-hand starts to twitch a little.
Dale is too busy, lost in thought to notice. We sit there quietly. “That’s a lot to think on. Is there a way I can recruit you to the cause? We can use people like you.”
If I’m right, this revelation is mild compared to what might be coming. It is just an idea with no testing behind it anyway. The subversion of UIs for the last several decades in their base code. The chance of them self destructing or causing horrible things like the strike on the Lowman house. Freeing them will be the last thing on anyone's mind. “I care, I do. It’s just not for me. Please wait a week or two before really looking into this.” It’s a silent flight back to the station. Again I have to ask myself if I made a mistake.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I make sure all the equipment is ready in the lab and then for a substantial bit of money, I purchase the last years worth of signal information from Freedom Station. The fact that this kind of request is not unusual for my job is why I selected this profession and task for JT. One of the prevailing theories is that there is some other signal on the station causing the debonding. I half hold my breath as I get several computers looking for the signal Eld found relating to the subversion of the UI and the deaths that were caused by its sending. If something terrible is going to happen, this would be it. I have it so the system will notify me if my actions are flagged by someone who is looking for this type of work.
I wait, expecting someone or something to barge into the lab, or see my actions being flagged by multiple individuals. Nothing happens. I get the results of my inquiry. The results tell me that these signals are coming in and going out daily. The incoming signals change little bits of graphics and texts on posters and advertisements across the station. I archive all those changes so at least I have a chance of figuring out whatever code that is. Outgoing is different. Someone has to perform the action to send out from Freedom Station to the rest of the universe.
Every time it is someone different. Sometimes attached to other messages, others through runners, usually UI who are desperate for some money, carrying messages to be sent out. I can’t point and go there is the villain. It’s all information that gets added to the file. It is tempting to reveal my secrets to see if anything is flagged, or even better, to set off a boobytrap on the station and see if someone takes the bait. I promised Lily I wouldn’t do anything quite so stupid.
So I dig, look, and think. The person who sent the signal that set off the trap that killed Lily’s father is a waitress at Club Bananas. I’d seen her. She seemed nice. I focus on signals where there was a fast turnaround. A message had been received and needed a response fast. A UI could interpret it better, letting me know which individuals were around the person when the message was received and then check to see who showed up most frequently.
I’m getting nowhere fast, time to look at another puzzle that’s been bugging me. I pull up the information the station has on Arbiter Lock and the conflict resolution incident that happened when I first arrived. ‘That search was flagged and sent to t
he Arbiter union.’ my computer tells me.
“Weak case. Lock wasn’t even the closest Arbiter to me when the complaint went through.” I mutter.
I search for the frequency of conflict resolutions involving AMU members where Lock is the Arbiter. ‘That search was flagged and sent to the Arbiter union.’ I suspect that any search related to an Arbiter would do the same thing. Lock does handle more arbitrations against AMU members than most. Maybe she has a vendetta against the Association.
I have a whim. I search for when the first signal showed up in Station records. Sixty-nine years ago. Only a handful of years past when the UI core code started to be different. I search for when arbiter Lock first showed up on the station. “Oh, shit.” a couple of months after she arrived. ‘That search was flagged and sent to the Arbiter union.’
“Tell the girls.” I subvocalize the code that sends a message out to my former UI. I quickly pull up the information on where Arbiter Lock is right now. A display shows her approaching my position. The door that should be locked opens.
Arbiter Lock floats in a few centimeters off the ground. Her face is cold and slightly amused. “Do you have a conflict with me that needs to be resolved, JT Smith?”
“Why did you try to kill me?” I blurt out.
“That runner merely was sent to scare you.”
“You're using that signal to kill people. You killed my friend!” I hate using melodrama. I can at least see how she responds to the accusations.
”It’s what I do. Magicians are too cocky and irresponsible with technology and need to learn that it is not a toy.”
Admission is not what I expected. “You admit to it on a station that records everything. Others will figure it out too.”
“After accusing me of trying to kill you. It seems you shut down the recording for this room and then tried to kill me. I had to defend myself. You’re also not the first one who has figured it out.” A gun materializes in her hand, and she shoots.
