by Sarah Zettel
When she re-wrapped in her hijab, they let Lipinski back in.
In the brief moment that the door was open, Al Shei heard a familiar voice clearly over all the babble and bustle of the police house.
“Zubedye Resit representing Katmer Al Shei and Rurik Lipinski. This is a wrongful accusation and I want it cleared up. Now.”
Lipinski looked at Al Shei. “I would like permission to marry your cousin.”
Al Shei felt a thin smile form. “If you can talk her into it, it’s fine with me.”
The two women who had escorted Al Shei to the station house reappeared and took her and Lipinski to a conference room with real walls. Resit was already there with Incili in its carrying case. Second Administrator Shirar stood in the back of the room with an expression of disgust and fury distorting her face. Next to her sat a man whom Al Shei assumed was the hospital’s lawyer. On the broad side of the table with his face to the door sat a man in clean white robes with a white turban on his head.
“Sit, sit, sit.” He waved his pen in the general direction of the remaining chairs. He sounded both harassed and tired.
Al Shei obeyed, catching Resit’s eye as she did. The corner of Resit’s mouth twitched upwards and she gave a small nod.
Good. She’d meant what she’d said out in the main chamber then. She was ready to get them out of this. Al Shei folded her hands on the table and waited.
“All right,” said the turbaned man. “I am Justice Muratza. My job is to keep this case from becoming a bigger nuisance than necessary.” He turned his drooping eyes to Shirar and her advocate. “For the record, will you state the complaint to the defendants?”
The advocate passed a film across the table to the justice. “Dr. Amory Dane, winning a contract bid from the New Medina Hospital, sub-contracted the Pasadena corporation to make a delivery of the packet of information. The specifics are listed here.” He reached across the table to point to the film with his pen. The justice nodded and waved him away.
The advocate cleared his throat and continued. “What was delivered was an empty shell, designed to take up space in storage until the Pasadena could abscond with the credit transferred to its account by the hospital.” He frowned at Al Shei. “As for the thief, both male and female, chop off their hands,” he quoted. “It is the reward for their own deeds.”
Al Shei leaned forward and stabbed at the table top with her finger. Resit laid a warning hand on her shoulder before she could get a word out.
“Thank you,” said the Justice dryly. “We’ll wait for a trial before we decide if we’re all going to turn literalist.” He scribbled a note on his memory board. “And what does the Pasadena corporation have to say for itself?”
“In the interests of keeping all nuisance to a minimum,” Resit said, smoothly. “I’d like to invoke local statutes 145-A and 584-C which provide for pre-trial and public comparison and verification in the case of conflicting computer records. We can direct link to both the hospital records and the Pasadena’s and compare them. This will show that the Pasadena delivered only the information which it was given by Amory Dane.” She drew a stack of films out of her case, “As verification, I have the video and transcript records of my meeting with Amory Dane and the data transfer to the Pasadena’s data hold. If there are accusations of wrongdoing, the New Medina Hospital must take them to Dr. Dane, or,” she paused to make doubly sure everyone’s attention was on her, “as seems more likely, they must acknowledge there is a fault with their data storage system.
“Our records are security sealed and can be verified by contacting the port authorities of Port Oberon.” She looked the hospital’s advocate square in the eye. “He who truly believes in Allah and the Last Day should either speak good or keep silent.”
Muratza frowned at her. “We are giving statements, not sermons.” He glanced over the films. “However, a records comparison does look like the quickest way to see who’s got a case here.”
“Sir.” Hospital Advocate was still trying to stare Resit down. “I invoke statute 784-H. I want those films verified. This crew has already proven themselves to be very good at faking their data.”
“Are we at trial?” countered Resit immediately. She swept her hand around the room. “Has a verdict been handed down? No? Then how has anything been proven?”
Shirar flushed umber. “I have got an empty database and forty doctors who can’t go ahead with critical patients because you…”
The justice sighed. “And if either representative allows their clients to delay this proceeding, I am going to strip your licenses to practice in the Farther Kingdom and send you packing. You can probably both cite the statutes that allow me to do this.” He gave them both hard looks. “So, let us see those records.”
A wall slammed down in front of Dobbs, slicing through the line between herself and the Attack modules. Dobbs skimmed across it. The pathway had been shut off by whatever was on the other side. She dropped to the bottom of the path and groped across it until she found a routing switch she could manipulate. She couldn’t break the wall, but she could tunnel under it. She opened up her new pathway below the barrier and slid through it.
Resit pulled a cable out of Incili’s box and plugged the AI into the table. Then she plugged her pen into the socket in the AIs side.
“Incili, open a channel to the comm watch on Pasadena.”
“There are no channels available,” said the calm tenor voice.
Resit’s brow furrowed. “Incili, try again.”
“There are no channels available.”
She looked across to the advocate and the justice. “‘Ster Justice, is this a peak load on your comm channels?”
“Not normally.” Muratza tucked his pen into one of the table sockets and tapped the board in front of him. “We’re jammed up though. What’s Central doing out there?”
Al Shei noticed Lipinski was sitting very still. “Inadequate configured pathway space,” he murmured.
The justice gave him a sharp look. “Do you have something to add to this discussion, ‘Ster Lipinski?”
“No, ‘Ster Justice,” said Lipinski to the table. “Nothing.” His eyes were wide though, and Al Shei could see his hands twitching. She glanced at Resit, whose brow was still wrinkled.
The hospital’s advocate, unfortunately, did not miss the silent exchange. “Is something wrong, ‘Ster Lipinski?” He inquired. “Did your ship perhaps encounter some problems with its own communications pathways during the flight?”
Al Shei stiffened involuntarily.
Resit laid her hand flat against the table top. “Nothing occurred during the Pasadena’s flight from Port Oberon in the Solar System to the Farther Kingdom which interfered with the integrity of the packet which we delivered,” she said firmly.
The justice’s eyes flickered from the lawyer to Lipinski. What little color the Houston had in his cheeks had drained away.
“Is that correct, ‘Ster Lipinski?” Muratza tapped the edge of the table with one finger.
Allah the Merciful, keep him steady, prayed Al Shei.
“Yes.” Lipinski coughed. “Yes, it is.”
Muratza did not look convinced. Neither did the pair from the hospital.
“Channel to Pasadena established.” Incili’s voice cut the tension. “Intercom to data hold open.”
“This is Communication Engineer Latius Odel.” The screen on the office wall flickered into life and showed Odel still sitting at Station One. There were empty bags and bulbs crumpled to one side that showed he’d just finished a meal there. “What can I do for you, ‘Dama Resit?”
Someone is going to get a dressing down when the crisis is over, thought Al Shei. Lipinski was notoriously fastidious about his hold.
But Lipinski wasn’t even looking at the screen. He was still staring at the tabletop, and his hands were still twitching.
Resit addressed the screen. “Odel, I need the records of the data transfer between the Pasadena and New Medina Central Hospital.”
Odel peered into the screen as if trying to figure out what was going on from Resit’s eyes. When he found no answers, he turned back to the boards.
“Locating,” he said as he wrote out the orders.
“Send them straight to the open files for Justice Muratza, New Medina police house number eighteen, storage area,” she paused and checked the readout on the table. “FKJ-O126-AT12/C.”
“Down loading.” Odel selected a menu and then tapped the board twice. “You should be getting it now.”
Muratza flicked through the menus on his own board and nodded.
“Thank you, ‘Ster Odel,” said Resit with a shade too much politeness. “Incili, close the line.”
The hospital advocate bent over his own board. Shirar whispered harshly in his ear. Al Shei took advantage of their distracted attention to tap Lipinski quickly on the knee. “What’s wrong?” she whispered as loudly as she dared.
He ran his thumb across his throat in a slicing gesture. We’re dead. Resit didn’t miss the gesture. She made a quick chopping motion below the table. Cut it out.
“All right.” Muratza wrote an order across his board. “Let’s see what you two have to show me.” He settled back in his chair and directed his attention to the closest wall screen.
First came the Pasadena’s data. Most of the screen was taken up by a recording of Odel’s hands writing orders and activating menus on the Comm Station One board. Smaller squares around the main window gave captions explaining the orders and detailing the movement of the data for each motion, which database was accessed, the size and shape of the packet retrieved, which line was used to transmit it to the surface and the record of how well the transfer proceeded. All of it showed the entire procedure going off with textbook ease.
Then came the hospital’s data. The video scene was similar, except this time it was Lipinski’s hands and the hospital board. This time the procedure was not so easy. Lipinski was running multiple checks on the data’s configuration and its integrity. He initiated spot diagnostic checks as it passed through the board, repeating them if the responses flickered on either side of a zero response.
The hospital advocate’s black eyes glittered. “Any particular reason for the overwhelming,” he drawled the word, “caution, ‘Ster Lipinski?”
Resit drew herself up to her full height. Al Shei recognized it as a defensive maneuver.
“Pasadena crew made a full disclosure of the virus infection to the hospital representatives.” Resit extracted a film from Incili’s carrying case. “They generated a waiver before they accepted the packet.”
“Yes,” a tone half-way between smugness and righteousness crept into the advocate’s voice. “They generated a waiver for what they were told about.”
Muratza’s face remained impassive at this revelation, but the advocate’s practically glowed with triumph.
Al Shei decided she could take an active dislike to the man if she had the time. She also hoped that the reason Resit was keeping quiet was she didn’t want to dignify the last statement with a reply.
The hospital’s data played on. Lipinski funnelled the data he cleared into the open storage space. The final size and configuration numbers were reached. Lipinski ran through one last integrity check and got a zero reading. He sealed the storage and cleared the line.
The recording shifted to columns of ratios; configured space to unconfigured, used space to empty space.
“This is a record of the monitoring program on the storage space where the data was supposed to be transferred,” said the advocate. “Watch what happens as soon as a tap is attempted.”
The recording showed the raw numbers for a new line opening, and the stats shifted to columns of zeros. No space configured, no space used. Nothing there. Nobody home.
The screen blanked out.
Al Shei couldn’t help herself. She glanced anxiously at Resit. Resit didn’t even look mildly surprised.
She must have gotten a look at it before she got here. Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve. Cousin, you’re getting a raise as soon as I’ve got one to give you.
“So, ‘Ster Lipinski,” the advocate folded his hands and rested both elbows on the table. “There were problems in flight, were there? A convenient excuse to get my clients to sign a waiver in case anything untoward happened to their packet.”
Lipinski opened his mouth, but Resit beat him too it.
“‘Ster Justice Muratza.” She faced the justice. “The hospital’s own records show that the data transferred was exactly the data received by the Pasadena, nothing more and nothing less. It is ‘Ster Lipinski’s own precautions that prove that no trace of viral code, or any other uncontracted data could have possibly been transferred down to New Medina.” She cast a withering glance at the advocate and Shirar. “The language on the waiver covers nothing more than a viral infection. The advocate knows this. He is building conspiracies out of thin air. What the records show is that if the data has been erased, it happened after the transfer. I am most appalled at this attempt to blame Pasadena corporation for the hospital’s own error.” She shook her head. “A tragic error, certainly. I understand that packet was a valuable well-spring of information for them, but it was an error nonetheless.” The advocate shifted his weight, but Resit didn’t give him a chance to speak. “The Pasadena Corporation delivered exactly and entirely what Dr. Amory Dane contracted it to deliver. This is verified by the hospital’s own records. The data was placed and sealed in a storage unit chosen by the hospital’s designated representative.” She swept her hand toward Shirar. “With that, our contract was fulfilled and payment became due. What happened after that, however regrettable, is not the responsibility of Pasadena Corporation.”
Muratza made another note on his board. “That is true.”
“‘Ster Justice,” spluttered the advocate. “You can’t mean to let any of this…fabrication go unverified…”
“I don’t.” Muratza made a second note and selected a SEND command from a menu. Al Shei wished fervently, and a bit ridiculously, that she could read Arabic upside down.
“There is a situation here that merits investigation.” Muratza laid down his pen. “That much is evident. What it is and whether criminal charges are called for is still in question.” He stood up. “The representatives of the Pasadena Corporation will make themselves available to this office and its representatives until such time as this investigation is considered resolved, as will the representatives of New Medina Central Hospital.” He waited for either lawyer to protest, but something in his manner suggested that they had better not.
“Thank you, ‘Ster Justice Muratza.” The hospital advocate tucked his pen in his belt pocket and sealed the stack of films in front of him into a book.
“Thank you, ‘Ster Justice Muratza.” Resit unplugged Incili and stowed her gear in its case.
The advocate walked out of the office with Shirar already plucking at his elbow. Resit picked up Incili and gestured for Al Shei and Lipinski to proceed her out the door. Lipinski opened his mouth and Resit shook her head.
Al Shei grabbed her Houston’s shoulder with one hand and steered him out of the police house.
She did not let go until they had crossed the pedestrian catwalk, come down the spiral stairs on the other side and walked another full block from the police house, so that they were back on sidewalks crowded with pedestrians and working drones. The sun was setting, turning the sky a deep lapis blue and sending the first chilling breezes of evening through the streets.
Al Shei stopped in the long shadow of a beautifully arched facade and faced Lipinski.
“Al Shei,” said Resit with a note of warning in her voice. “We’ve got a lot to talk about…”
“And we’ll get to it.” Al Shei did not take her eyes off Lipinski. “What’s the matter?” she asked flatly.
In the shadows, his skin looked pasty grey. “Did you see how the cleaning drones all failed this afternoon?”
“Yes.” Al S
hei folded her arms.
“And how the comm lines clogged up so suddenly?”
“Yes,” she repeated.
“Those are central communications failures. Spot failures.” His eyes grew distant and whatever he was looking at made him shiver. “AI induced failures.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Resit.
Lipinski tilted his head back until he was looking straight up at the deep blue sky. “I should have seen it. I should have noticed.” He looked straight at Al Shei and Resit again. “There is a live AI loose in New Medina, and we brought it here.”
Resit clutched the handle on Incili’s case until her knuckles turned white. “Lipinski, if anybody, anybody has recorded you saying this…”
Al Shei touched Resit’s arm to quiet her. “You sound very sure,” she said quietly to Lipinski.
“It is an AI.” Lipinski’s words came out as a harsh whisper toward the doorway behind them. “It’s a live AI. We brought it here and now it’s loose.”
“You don’t know that,” said Al Shei sharply. “You have got no way to know that.”
“The hell I don’t.” His pale blue eyes were round with fear. “What else could it be? We’ve got to get out of here, Al Shei. Now.”
“No,” she said as quietly and as forcefully as she could managed. “We’ve got no facts. We also are under investigation. We stay where we are until we know for certain what is happening.”
Lipinski’s hands clenched and unclenched. “Spot failures are what happens first,” he said to the ground. “Then the basic diagnostic programs start returning senseless answers. Then special programs get written, and those disappear. Then systems start shutting down, on their own or because somebody’s trying to isolate something that can move faster than they can think. Once that happens there’s no controlling it.” He was shaking violently now. “Five days, five days, after it got loose on Kerensk I had to go out into the streets to try to find us something to eat. All the stuff in the kitchens was gone and we had nothing but metal and plastic and it was below freezing outside. No water either, and no snow to melt, just this mind-numbing cold. I was stumbling along, thanking God that the rioters had decided to move on and I tripped over this old man. I don’t know how long he’d been dead. He had his hand in a shattered pipe. He’d been trying to drink the water. It was sewage. It was frozen but I could still smell it…”
