Artificial Evolution

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “Don’t you say another word!” Michella growled.

  “Both of you, enough!” Lex said. “Ma, I appreciate your intentions, and I know this is probably fascinating to you, but leave it alone. Mitch and I will work it out or we won’t, but now’s not the time to be picking at either of us. Silo, Garotte, and a planet of people who never did anything to deserve what’s happening to them are counting on us to figure this out. Karter’s doing his part, but Mitch can’t do hers if you’re grilling her. And Mitch, Ma can be a little spiteful at times if she doesn’t feel she’s been getting the respect she deserves, but you’ve got to believe me that she always means the best in the big picture. If you can’t treat her like a person, then at least use her like a computer. I’m a pilot. My hands are tied in a situation like this, but you two can actually do something. It is ridiculous to see the two most capable and talented women I’ve ever met reduced to bickering over some damn fool thing I did. You’re mad at me, Mitch, not Ma. And the fact that Mitch is mad at me is not something you can or should fix, Ma. Now play nice!”

  Michella sat quietly. If Ma had a face, the young woman would likely be glaring at it. Instead she made do with glaring at her half-empty beverage. She sipped it slowly.

  “When is the next communication window?” Michella said steadily.

  “Four minutes, sixteen seconds,” Ma said.

  “I’ll give you the list of people I want to contact in order of priority. Patch me through with the first one that answers.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Lex turned to leave.

  “Lex,” Michella said, setting down her cup and taking up her pad.

  He turned to her.

  “This? That’s going on between you and me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We will work it out,” she assured him earnestly.

  He nodded and stepped away.

  #

  Lex paced down the hall until he felt he was far enough from the computer room not to be heard by Michella.

  “Ma?” he said.

  “I apologize for any trouble I have caused.”

  He made a dismissive gesture and shook his head. “You said there was a list of beta-testing tasks for me to start working off the fee?”

  “Yes. It is quite extensive.”

  “Let’s get started. If I don’t make myself useful soon, I’m going to start bashing my head against the wall.”

  #

  Several minutes later, Lex walked out into the middle of what Ma referred to as “the indoor testing range.” It was by far one of the least complex rooms in the lab, but it was enormous. It almost looked like they had removed all of the walls from one half of one of the building’s floors. The ceilings were about twice as high as in the rest of the lab, so more likely they’d cleared out half of two floors. Regularly spaced bare metal support columns were the only things that broke up an otherwise featureless cement bunker of a room. Lighting was sparse, provided in the form of a line of circular overhead spots tracing out the center stretch of the room. The brightness of the lit areas and the dimness of the unlit areas combined to make Lex feel as though he was standing in a tiny island of light floating in a void of darkness.

  He tugged at the neck of the outfit he’d been provided. It looked a bit like his typical flight suit, essentially a long-sleeved, long-legged coverall festooned with pockets. The only notable differences came in the fabric. His flight suit was only a bit thicker than a T-shirt and was made of a brown semigloss synthetic weave. This suit was black and easily triple the thickness. It had the same stiff but pliable feel of leather. Attached to the rear of the suit at belt level was something the size and weight of a brick.

  “This will be a very vigorous test, Lex. For that reason, Karter is prepared to pay a very high rate.”

  “Good, something tells me I’m going to need every credit I can get my hands on to cover his bill.”

  “This is quite likely.”

  “Are you sure Squee’s going to be okay?”

  “I am quite certain. I am monitoring her at all times.”

  “So what am I testing here, Ma?” he said, tugging again at the neck, then at the edge of each sleeve.

  “This is a nanolattice flight suit mark IV with integrated inertial arrester,” Ma said. “I felt it was a good starting point for your testing sessions, as this was a device you inspired.”

  “Oh, right. I remember. This is like that set of gloves Karter made,” he said.

  “Precisely. We have extensively tested the structural aspects of the suit, but it is difficult to properly quantify the comfort levels under various conditions. Let us begin with the baseline. How does it feel?”

  “It’s a little stiffer than I’d like,” he said, moving his arms and stepping from side to side. “And the inside is a little rough. If I wasn’t wearing underwear, there would be extensive chafing.”

  “Do you routinely wear a flight suit without underclothes?”

  “Well, you know, not routinely, but it happens.”

  “I will propose the addition of a cotton or cotton-poly lining.” A mechanical arm bearing a display screen rolled up into the circle of light beside Lex. “Please cycle through the displayed positions three to five times and rate your range of motion.”

  The screen displayed a string of stretching exercises, ranging from toe-touches to jumping jacks. He started to work his way through the list.

  “While we work through our tests, would you mind if we discuss some recent observations?”

  “What’ve you got?” Lex asked.

  “While Ms. Modane’s behavior illustrates a clearly discernable double standard, it should be pointed out that her opinions on your behavior are not wholly unfounded.”

  “Is this going to be a lecture?”

  “Would you define a list of targeted observations intended to probe and correct a subset of your behavioral shortcomings a lecture?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then this will indeed be a lecture.”

  “Great.”

  “You have clearly observed Ms. Modane’s distaste for secrets.”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you suppose that you would be able to withhold such information as the owner of your apartment forever?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then why keep it a secret at all? It is my observation that the amount of time information is willfully kept from Ms. Modane has a direct correlation to how angry she is upon discovering the truth.”

  “Because given the choice between getting her mad at me now and getting her mad at me later, I choose later. I figure if I can string together enough laters, I’ll get a never, which would be fantastic.”

  “Understood. Postponing unpleasant activities is a common behavior. You may discontinue the motions. Did you find your motion to be in any way restricted?”

  “A little in the armpits and a little between the legs.”

  “Would you say that the current level of restriction would interfere with your operation of your ship?”

  “Not really.”

  “Excellent. Please engage a high-speed motion of your choice. Swinging an arm or kicking a leg, for example.”

  Rather than waste breath asking why, he began swinging his arm in a circle.

  “You mention that your call to Ms. Misra was done under the influence of alcohol,” Ma said.

  “Yeah…” Lex said flatly.

  “I have observed a strong tendency for you to react to misfortune with alcohol, and also to make exceedingly poor decisions while under the influence of alcohol. Increase the speed of your arm.”

  “Yeah…” He was quite familiar with the direction this was heading, and he was not particularly pleased.

  “Ms. Modane has observed you may be developing, or may have developed, a drinking problem. Increase the speed of your arm.”

  “I don’t have a drinking problem. Ow!” Upon his arm reaching a certain speed, the sleeve suddenly became rigid around it and locked him
in place. The sudden stop was startling and rather painful.

  “My apologies. I should have warned you. The nanolattice cloth is activated when the suit moves beyond a certain acceleration or a certain velocity. Ideally the activation should occur beyond any reasonable speed of normal actions. Recalibrating.” The sleeve loosened again, and his arm dropped. “Resume the motion, please.”

  He did so, accelerating more slowly and carefully this time.

  “Like I was saying. I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t drink that often.”

  “Alcohol dependence isn’t strictly about frequency or volume, it is about how and why you consume alcohol and your capacity to self-moderate. Your tendency to use alcohol to cope with stress is a clear warning sign of, and may in fact be firm evidence of, dependence. Might I suggest you substitute alcohol with a healthier stress management alternative, like vigorous physical exercise? You might also find it useful to talk through your feelings of stress with a companion. I’ve noticed a pronounced decrease in stress-related alcohol consumption since you began regularly bringing Squee with you on deliveries. There may be a correlation to your frequent chats with her. A dialogue might be even more beneficial. I would gladly be your figurative shoulder to cry on if doing so would serve to decrease your alcohol intake. You may discontinue the arm motion at this time.”

  “I appreciate the offer, Ma, but I’m pretty sure I can keep a firm grip on the drinking.”

  “If you like, I can compile a list of nonalcoholic beverages that will provide a similar flavor profile to your preferred alcoholic beverages. Or perhaps a variety of healthful and calming comfort foods, like tea.”

  “Yeesh. Karter really nailed it when he named you, Ma.”

  “Please explain the motivation for this statement.”

  “You can be just a bit of a nag sometimes.”

  “A frequent observation. We shall now begin the impact tests.” A new mechanical arm rolled into a circle of light about fifteen meters away. It was armed with a ballistic assault rifle. “Arms to your side, please, and inform me if you experience any significant discomfort.”

  “Whoa! Hang on!”

  The rifle took aim, and Lex hastily put his arms out. She pulled the trigger, and the gun gave three short barks. The bullets struck the front of the suit in bursts, each one making him feel as if he were being jabbed with a pool cue. He stumbled backward and coughed a bit, the last of the bursts having caught him in the stomach and forced the wind from him.

  “Please rate your discomfort on a scale of one to ten, with one being no discomfort at all and ten being the worst pain you can imagine,” she said.

  “Uh… five,” he croaked, drawing a breath.

  “Is this tolerable?”

  “Closer to three would be better,” he said.

  “Calibrating. Arms to your side, please, and—”

  “MA!”

  The rifle lowered. “Yes, Lex?”

  “Two things. First, sorry about the nag comment.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “And second, you may be onto something about the stress-drinking. I just got shot at, and suddenly I could really use a drink.”

  “I will prepare a chamomile tea for you at the conclusion of the current testing session. Are you prepared for a second round of testing?”

  He took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Hit me.”

  #

  “Okay… okay… we’re too deep into this. Too many names. Too much focus,” Michella said, rubbing her eyes after many hours of research failed to unearth more than a handful of useful insights.

  “It is my understanding that focus in matters like this is desirable,” Ma said.

  “Usually it is, but obviously we’re not getting anywhere, so it’s time to change things up. Blur the lens. Change the perspective. We’ve worked this vein as far as we can. Time to come at it from a different angle. When you’re looking for a good source in the news biz, obviously you want someone on the inside, but the real trick is getting inside in the first place. You can’t just cold call a CEO to confront them. They’ve got years of training and experience in being evasive and elusive. You need to find the people they deal with, the people off center. People who don’t know what they should or shouldn’t say.”

  “In this hypothetical scenario, would we be seeking lower-level executives?” Ma asked.

  “No, no. Much further out. I’m talking janitors, the lady who does the dry cleaning, the guy who makes his coffee. The weak links who have direct access but no defenses. I feel it in my bones. This region of space is the nut to crack. It is right next door and the Teeker military quarantined it, too. That can’t be a coincidence. Now, that time there was an evacuation. Who else would be involved in that sort of thing besides the military? They’d need to move a lot of people, lock down a lot of transit routes and communication channels…”

  “In that region, at that time, all of those services would have been provided by VectorCorp,” Ma said. “VectorCorp as an organization is likely to have considerably greater security measures in place than the military.”

  “Granted, but they’re still a company. Is there anything on public record at VectorCorp regarding the project?”

  “Processing… There are highly generic statements about cooperation with the military.”

  “You don’t have a backdoor into their systems, do you? Like you did when you got nosey about my past?”

  “No.”

  “Wishful thinking. Okay. Naturally they’ll scrub their own history, but memos get out. We just need something isolated. Something that they don’t have their hands on anymore, that they can’t defend.”

  “I am aware of nothing we can access in a timely manner that would have been isolated from VectorCorp during the appropriate time frame for this investigation.”

  “Forget the time frame. You’d be amazed how much I’ve learned about a company just by going through random files and systems.”

  “We have in our possession the remains of a ship formerly utilized by a VectorCorp Security agent. This could fit the isolation criteria.”

  “You do!?”

  “Data protection protocols destroyed all sensitive data on the ship’s systems. We also have the remains of a large VectorCorp maintenance vessel. Data protection protocols destroyed all sensitive data on the ship’s systems.”

  “Damn. Any other confiscated junk from the people we’re after?”

  “Does ‘the people we’re after’ include Neo-Luddites?”

  “You’ve got something from them, too?”

  “We have in our possession the remains of a space station formerly used as a command center. The primary systems were overwritten while liberating Karter from imprisonment. Data protection protocols destroyed all sensitive data on the ship’s secondary systems. Processing… Processing…”

  “What’s all the processing about?”

  “Analyzing block size… Analyzing rewrite order… Analyzing randomization… Analyzing—”

  “Out with it!” Michella growled.

  “There is a seventy-eight percent likelihood that the VectorCorp ships and the Neo-Luddite station were data-sanitized by the same protection protocols.”

  “… Are we talking about some sort of industry standard?” Michella asked, the wheels beginning to turn.

  “Negative. The data destruction artifacts are inconsistent with known products and solutions. Analysis indicates the deletion thoroughness vastly exceeds that of widely available solutions.”

  “So this is an advanced method. I very much doubt VectorCorp would use military stuff on their own ships. So are we to believe that a Neo-Luddite system had proprietary VectorCorp data protection?”

  “Analysis would seem to indicate it.”

  “They steal technology. Could they have stolen and installed it?”

  “That is a reasonable conclusion.”

  “Still… that’s one hell of a coincidence,” Michella said. Her eyes were darting back and for
th now. “We’ve already got a connection between Neo-Luddites and the military, since most Neo-Luddites come from the military. Now we’ve got what could be a connection between Neo-Luddites and VectorCorp. Does VectorCorp hire staff from the military at all?”

  “VectorCorp is one of the galaxy’s largest employers. They hire staff from every profession.”

  “I mean are there any departments or jobs that preferentially staff military?”

  “A large proportion of high-ranking VectorCorp pilots are military. VectorCorp Security recruits from military sources, VectorCorp—”

  “VectorCorp Security… as in the same people who almost destroyed two whole star systems last year.”

  “Correct.”

  “Was VectorCorp Security involved with the evacuation of that star system?”

  “No information confirms it, but knowledge of military and VectorCorp protocols and the clear emphasis on information control regarding the incident would suggest it.”

  “Are there any high-ranking VC Security personnel who are likely to have been involved with whatever happened in that star system that required it to be evacuated?”

  “Six years following the incident Col. Robert K. Lane was made head of VectorCorp Security. He served in research and development in the Teeker Marines. The location and duration of his assignments makes a tour of duty in the system in question during the time of the event highly probable.”

  “What about the people who followed him?”

  “No correlation to the events under investigation.”

  “… Okay… were any security heads ousted or fired or anything like that?”

  “William Trent, as a direct result of the Bypass Gemini incident.”

  “Any direct link between him and Col. Lane?”

  “Negative, but he was selected for his position by his predecessor. This is a standard department policy.”

  “Going all the way back to Col. Lane?”

  “Likely.”

  Michella took a long, slow breath. “Okay… Process this for me. Neo-Luddites frequently become Neo-Luddites after prolonged human-vs.-robot combat, correct?”