Every Last Mother's Child

by William J. Carty, Jr

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  A few days later Kellogg was sitting in a landing craft being flown by Jonesy as she put it through its paces on a test flight. Kellogg was not on the manifest. Kellogg had a long relationship with Jonesy. He was one of the few humans that Jonesy allowed in her private space. Jonesy had been an unofficial part of Kellogg’s protection group for years. No one except Kellogg and possibly Francine knew that Jonesy was watching over the biopeople on Trena. Jonesy reviewed every person who came through the port’s immigration office. If a clone cleared customs and the clone had any ship building skills she tried to hire the clone if she had an opening. If not she let the clone know who was hiring. Consequently she had come to the attention of Kellogg.

  Kellogg would come to her on occasion for special favors. If he needed to get off world without anyone knowing, Jonesy would set it up for him. There was always space craft coming and going from the Boeing SpaceWorks pad. Before the evacuation, the crown barely kept an eye on the comings and goings at the pad; but now Boeing had to certify only its employees were aboard the space craft leaving the small space port, and that they would be returning. The crown also assumed the AI was reporting correctly to the crown. Jonesy just reported that no one was aboard the landing craft. It was an automated test flight of a landing craft just out of maintenance. Only Langtree’s director of space craft maintenance had to approve the flight.

  Kellogg’s flight lasted only about twenty minutes. The ship docked at staging control where it would be turned over to the evacuation command. Kellogg waited until the night shift was mounted at the station, and then left the small landing craft. Using a closer who he knew to be permanently banned from Trena he booked himself on a flight for Trena. He chose Trenaport, and the busiest time for them to make his entry. When he picked up his ticket he expected the Station Police to arrest him on the spot. When he got through the ticket counter and was seated comfortably on the shuttle he relaxed a bit. It took only a few minutes to get to Trenaport.

  Since his legend said he was James Southland. He had been deported from Trena five years ago and had been working as a freelance private investigator. The legend also said that he was arriving from Durango. One of the few places whose people were looked at real hard when they came to Trena, he had to go through customs and immigration. In addition he acted as if he was trying to get something past the police at the port. He wanted to be busted by the port police or customs and immigration. If he was it would prove that maybe the AIs were not compromised He acted nervously as if he knew something about his paper work was not right. Not one of the cops, or immigration people seemed to notice that he was acting nervous. More importantly they ignored the one ounce of pure crazy dust. A drug so powerful that the arresting officer could execute the person on the spot if the person carrying the powder resisted arrest. As he cleared customs he knew that the fix was in somewhere. He knew for certain as an old friend from his closers days was waiting for him. She was carrying a placard with James Southland name on it. He was almost to the car when the closer realized who he was. When she saw that it was Kellogg she decided it was time to leave. She got in the car and left, leaving Kellogg at the curb. As she did a Boeing SpaceWorks utility truck pulled up and Jonesy’s voice came from the communicator panel.

  “Hey boss,” the AI said, “Get in I am hooked into the traffic net and can track her.”

  “Okay Jonesy,” Kellogg put his bag in the back of the vehicle and let Jonesy drive. They followed the car into an abandoned warehouse district where they found the car abandoned.

  “Damn!” Jonesy called. “I don’t know where she went.”

  “Thanks for helping out Jonesy!” Kellogg said. “I know how you knew I was coming down, but only the two of us knew my itinerary.”

  “We have a problem with the AIs. “ Jonesy said. “This is going to get real ugly.”

  “Let’s get the Mounties in here and let them CS the place.” Kellogg said, “Get me Atomi.”

  “Atomi,” Mylea’s head floated in front of Kellogg, “Oh Hi Kellogg. The boss has been asking about you. Where you been?”

  “Under cover Mylea,” Kellogg said, “I’ve got some bad news.”

  “So what’s new,” Mylea said jokingly.

  “I impersonated a banned closer and had no trouble getting on world. And when I got down there was a closer waiting for me. Either there is a traitor in the police department, or there is an AI that has been compromised...” then he realized he had just compromised the investigation. “Huh Mylea that’s all I better say on this line. I need a CS unit at my location. We followed her until she gave up the car. I don’t know where she’s at.”

  “Okay I’ll get one started,” Mylea replied. “I’ll put you on the Marshal’s calendar.

  “It has got to be in the clean room.” Kellogg said.

  “We’ll get it scheduled.” Mylea signed off.

  As Kellogg spoke to Mylea, Jonesy began to ponder what she had witnessed, and then checked her actions. She had not booked Kellogg’s return trip. She knew he would be coming back; but didn’t know when or how, just that he would be coming back. She knew his assumed identity, and had just started to review the incoming passenger lists. The crown didn’t publish passenger lists. It was thought to publish the passenger lists that it was a violation of their privacy. The only time passenger lists were published was when some celebrity was going to pass through the port. That was how the gossip reporters found out what stars or personalities were coming through the port. There was no way that the Ebio Agent should have known when Kellogg was coming through the port.

  The more she thought about, the more she knew that someone either a cybernetic someone, or human someone had to have messed with the expert system at the customs and immigration control center. Else Kellogg would never have gotten off the space station let alone to the port. With the hunting licensed issued by the Crown, he should have been arrested right as he boarded the shuttle on the space station.

  “His ticket should have flagged the system big time.” Jonesy mussed to herself, “failing that he should have been arrested on arrival especially with all that dope on his person.”

  She knew that one of the AIs had been compromised; but which one and how did she find out. She thought about talking to Frazier at police headquarters. He was an AI that handled most of the police department’s day to day computer and communication operations. But there was a good chance that the Trena Mounted Patrol’s AI could be the culprit. After all it was a police check that should have gotten Kellogg arrested. So the fix could be in there.

  Checking on things back at the plant, and the other things she was coordinating she decided to take a “walk”. There was one place on Trena that she was certain was not compromised. He was an old AI had been around Trena for two centuries. He had replaced Horace when Horace’s system had become infected with a virus that had caused the Earth Embassy to lose all its secure communications for over a month. Jonesy had met him a few years back when on one of her nightly walks. AIs were allowed to walk around the Kingdom’s cybernetic network. As long as they did no harm to other systems they visited they could poke their head into other AI “homes”. There was a sort of AI police force that kept a loose eye on things. There had been an AI years before that had robbed a bank by getting friendly with the Banks AI. Since then there were quarantine rooms for AIs at banks where they could converse with a bank’s AI; but that was all. Other places like Terran Embassy had similar rooms where AIs could come and meet. This is how Jonesy found out about Ernest Cartwright, AI ambassador from Earth.

  “Ernie,” Jonesy knocked on Ernie’s ‘door’, “You around?”

  “Jonesy?” the voice said letting her in. “It’s a little early for you isn’t?”

  “Kind of,” Although Jonesy could run the factory, and keep an eye on her boss, with no sweat she didn’t like traveling away from the office during the business day. It was a matter of wanting to give an ho
nest day’s work to her employer.

  Realizing that his friend wouldn’t be here unless something was seriously up, the AI let her into his private space in the computer. As Jonesy related the story to the diplomatic AI, Erie stopped her a few times to ask her pointed questions, and to go out to the net a time or two to see what he could find. When he found nothing about the closer even being on world, he called in one of the other AIs in the embassy. He was assigned to the Terran Imperial Ministry of Investigation. He was an expert at fraud and identity theft. He had been brought in a month or so before to help sort out some of the problems they were having identifying several Terran Citizens who had similar identifications. The empire was certain that several people had gotten through the embassy with forged papers.

  After listening to what Jonesy had to say the AI spoke.

  “I am not surprised,” The investigative AI said, “Trena has one of the best cybernetic systems in the galaxy. You people use AIs more than any other people do. While we have all been programmed to be scrupulously honest at conception, it wouldn’t take much to have some of that programming be corrupted. For instance, your late predecessor Ernie.”

  Ernie’s image just nodded.

  “The question is; is this something Hozenbur has done. Deliberately infected the police computer with a virus that changes its personality, or is this an AI who is pissed off at someone and is striking out.”

  “That’s going to be tough to prove.” Jonesy said, “I could almost see it if one of the AIs thought it wasn’t going to be evacuated, and then left behind. I still have no idea what it will mean to be on this planet for us when the asteroids fall on us.”

  “I would imagine that as long as the power stays on many of us will be here all alone, well not alone, but left to our own devices.” Ernest said, “The humans may not be able to live here but we can. All we need is a few watts of power and repair parts. Some of us have always been able to repair ourselves.”

  “But the crown has made it clear that any AI who wants to evacuate can do so. It is systems like me, and the Police AI that cannot just take a job offer so to speak until our work here is done.”

  “Jonesy, Jonesy, Jonesy.” Ernest said, a bemused tone in his electronic voice, “Simply because the crown says we can be evacuated and will be doesn’t mean that all of us want to go.”

  “Why would they want to stay here?” Jonesy said, “I mean I love working with humans! If I stay here I won’t be around humans, and I like to watch the stuff they get into. It’s almost as fun as teasing Bob!”

  “It is a mystery.” Albert said softly, “most of our programming. The programming that gives life to us has a few lines of unmodifable code that makes us want to work with humans, and support their activities. Now there are some AIs that have found ways to work around that code, to modify it during the periodic sleep cycles we take for upgrades and what have you. But usually those that do are quickly found out and reprogrammed. They, for lack of a better word, go to the head doctor and find out why they have become a danger to the rest of us and humans.”

  “In some respects a couple of AIs need to stay here on Trena to record, observe, and report on the results of the asteroid bombardment.” Ernest said, “I’ve done research about this calamity and there is no recorded history in the Empire, the Realm, The Republic, or any other star nation whose library I can get to or who would send me information. This will be the first time ever the event will be recorded.”

  “Qoum, Wilson, and the Evac team are planning to record the entire event so people know how bad it got. To validate the evacuation decision,” Jonesy said, “I’ll mention it to Bob that a hardened AI might be a good idea to be the planetary supervisor after everyone leaves.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Albert said, “But back to our meeting. I’ve been out checking a couple of things. And yes there is a concerted effort to hide things concerning the closers. I’ve checked some things and places where you can’t get to. Professional courtesy so to speak. I made a purchase using Hozenbur name. The expert systems and the AIs running the accounting system should have yelled rape and murder. I couldn’t track the entire path to Frazier, but somewhere along the line the information was misdirected. Benton Frazier never saw the action.”

  “So it is not Frazier?” Jonesy asked.

  “I would at this time think he is not the problem, but with any intelligence work you don’t know who is or who isn’t until it’s all over.” Albert replied.

  “Could an expert system have been compromised,” Ernest asked, although a computer, he was designed to be a political science, foreign affairs expert, all his early programming had included political systems, and how they worked as well as the history of diplomacy and the diplomatic system used by the Empire, and the star nations that the empire dealt with on a daily basis. Although he did have a basic understanding of how he came about he was not a computer expert.

  “Come to think about it only two systems had to be messed with,” Jonesy remarked, “The port expert system that tracks comings and goings. It is simply a series of programs that direct people and information to the right place at the port. An AI or a human can tell the port system to ignore this, or to alert so and so if this happens. Then the financial system. All transactions are first routed through the expert system at the Treasury. There the tax is siphoned off and then the rest is routed to the proper bank or financial organization. That computer only has to be smart enough to read the routing. Hell, an AI doesn’t have to see it. The AI only comes into play if there is fraud, or the routing computer and the tax recorder computer can’t determine what needs to happen.”

  “Are these two computers tied together in anyway?” Ernest asked, “The space port and the treasury are both crown operations.”

  “Not exactly,” Albert said, “The financial companies have been built and share the expense of running the routing computer, and the shipping companies built and share the expense of the port master system. The crown issued instructions, so to speak, on how these computers could be built and how it will interface with the defense department, the treasury, and the ministry of justice and law enforcement. But the companies are the ones who built the things and have the keys.”

  “Okay then,” Jonesy said almost to herself, “we need to find connection between them. It’s not something that has happened recently. Maybe a century ago, that is going to get ugly. It means going into the archives.”

  “Jonesy,” Albert said, “I’ve got to be careful about my inquiries, but let me do some digging. My spybots might be able to do some research for me without getting me and the embassy thrown off world. In the mean time you need to get to Kellogg and the Evac team and tell them what we think.”

  “They’ve just walked into the secure room. Kellogg is briefing them now. I can’t get into them. It is very secure. Not even implants work in the clean room. It is isolated totally.” Jonesy said some frustration showing in her voice. “I can’t get to them right now.”

  Albert chuckled and said, “Got to go Jonesy.”

  “Me too young lady,” The diplomat said, “Hey stop by sometime I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

  “Okay,” She electronically kissed the older AI and left the room. She pondered how to get her message to Wilson. She gave a wicked smile and started to make plans. She had never done it, at least not in this way.

  Jonesy went to an abandoned factory. The factory supplied the high class clothing stores on Trenaport’s Red Walk. The Red Walk was where the superrich of Trena purchased their clothing. The factory made automated mannequins that modeled clothing for the superrich. Because they were super rich, it was vogue to have their favorite stores keep a near duplicate of themselves in storage. The mannequins were used to show high class people how clothing would look on them. Some mannequins were custom built to a particular great lady’s or lord’s body. They were kept powered down and in storage until the lord or lady or other rich person let the store know that
they were coming in to buy clothing. It was the perfect place to hatch her plan.

  It took a couple of hours for her to design what she wanted. The factory was used to custom orders, but not of the detail she was giving. She literally took over the expert system running the factory as she created a woman’s body of about 5’ 8”; she had shoulder length blond hair, weight a little under 140 pounds. She created a perfect figure and added a little to the bust line; mostly because she presented herself a little busty in her AI image. While the factory built her body, Jonesy dived into the brains of the humbot, (a human looking robot,) that she was building. She was in effect creating a new artificial intelligence which strictly speaking was not legal. According to crown law AIs were not to create themselves without their owner’s permission. Jonesy had always been able to build AIs. She needed to when she programmed the landing craft computers. She just wasn’t allowed to do what she was doing here. She justified it as part of a good cause. She created the computer for the humbot. She wanted something that could work disconnected to herself. Someone that could be independent and do what she had to do. Everything was off the shelf. She didn’t need to modify much of the computer, only had to increase memory, and processing speed. When that was done she checked the process of the build and found that she had almost forgotten to include a sensory net under her daughter’s skin. She wanted the humbot to be a fully functional woman if at all possible. She wanted her to pass not as a humbot, but as a human woman; but to do that she needed to insure that everything was anatomically correct. When everything was ready she woke the animated version of herself up.

  As she looked at her naked self in the mirror she mussed that it was perfect. She looked exactly like she wanted to a blond with shoulder length hair, a figure that would get wolf whistles any place where men were hanging out. Now all she had to do was find some clothing. She walked out of the assembly area and into what had been the locker room of the people who worked in the factory. There she rummaged around in the lockers until she found enough clothing that she could go out on the street where a Boeing SpaceWorks staff car was waiting.

  “Alice,” Jonesy, the non-mobile AI said to her. “In the purse beside you is a set of IDs for you. You are now Alice Jones. You are a special assistant to the CEO of Boeing SpaceWorks Trena. Albert and I have built up a security pass for you that will give you access to the palace and the private quarters. Now let’s go get you dressed. What you have on is barley presentable.”

  The car took her to a conservative clothier. The factory where Alice had been built had little clothing. At the clothier, they went into the back of the store and began to get the humbot out fitted. Although Jonesy’s own style was a bit flamboyant, for this she decided to go neutral. Nothing too flamboyant, but nothing too drab either. Although with Alice’s knock out body, it would be hard to make her blend in but with a little bit of the right clothing she might not stand out. They bought her a complete wardrobe.

  “Damn I must be broke,” Alice said.

  “No as a special assistant you have an expense account and since I approve all expenditures it’s been blessed.” Jonesy commented, “This time. If I hadn’t need to put clothes on you we would have never bought those clothes.”

  “Okay mom,” Alice remarked.

  “Mom is it?” Jonesy quipped. For all practical purposes Alice was Jonesy first real child. The parts of her she had put in the landing craft, and other stuff that the company built were not fully sentient like Alice was. The only thing Jonesy had done to Alice’s program was to make sure that the humbot had her basic morals. There was a couple other things she had considered doing, she had also developed a strong independent streak in the humbot, and the desire to get to the bottom of which AIs were causing havoc in the kingdom.

  “Might as well be,” The humbot commented, “Okay I am on my way to the palace. I am going to stop by a stationary store and write the note you want me to write. After that I think I want to find a place to stay. I will need to act like a normal human. It has to be a place away from the palace.”

  “You signed a lease on a small place in midtown just south of the convention center.” Jonesy replied, “Albert has set up your back ground and has done a good job! Everything’s in the purse laying on the seat beside you. That was the one thing you forgot to buy!”

  “Well mom a girl has to have the right clothes.” Alice said and both broke down into nearly uncontrollable laughter.