by M. D. Cooper
“It’s not removing her. It’s healing the blood clots.”
“All right,” Fryson said. “Scan’s complete. Next phase.”
The model of her dad’s brain rotated right-side up, the spinal cord nearly touching his chest.
The orb-shaped scanner retracted, and a soothing, genderless voice said, “I detect not everyone present has a Link, so I’ll be using voice to ensure everyone feels comfortable.”
“That’s the onboard NSAI,” Fryson said.
“Thank you,” the voice answered, “You can call me Sinnis, which is analogous for Self-Contained Neurosurgery System. I was developed by the Heartbridge Corporation for your safety and comfort. I can see that I’m helping Andrew Sykes, today. Is this correct?”
Fryson gave Fran a questioning glare.
“That’s correct,” Fran answered.
“Andrew appears to be experiencing cranial bleeding and is exhibiting abnormal Link interface activity. You should be aware that without proper licensing, any surgery performed today will be at the patient’s own risk. Since my license is—” Sinnis paused and added, “Five-hundred-thirty-two days past due, Heartbridge strongly recommends performing maintenance updates to ensure patient safety.”
Fryson waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t worry about that. Once it’s through the boilerplate, it’ll perform the surgery. Once it’s started, it can’t ignore a patient. It’s a Terran law or something.”
“I’d never heard that about Heartbridge,” Fugia said. “All those medkiosks on Cruithne sure turn people away.”
Cara felt a moment of panic as the edges of the couch rose to envelop her dad in a plas cocoon. She’d watched the medcouch on Sunny Skies close around her dad before, even Tim, but had never felt the same rush of panic. Despite how old and out-of-date their dad said the Sunny Skies’ medbay was, it was theirs. She felt like they were handing her dad over to some evil machine that was going to grind him into pulp.
“Be careful with my hand there, dear,” Fugia said, adjusting Cara’s grip on her hand. “You’re going to tear my fingers off.”
“Sorry,” Cara said.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Fugia said. “This is a different medcouch than any of the ones on Cruithne. Someday I’ll show you how to hack them for free services. This one looks like it came from some executive transport.”
“I know,” Cara said.
Sinnis shifted to appear standing behind the couch with a benevolent expression, moving its gaze from Fran to Fugia and Cara.
“Can you talk to Lyssa?” Cara asked Fugia. Whenever they left Sunny Skies, she forgot that she couldn’t talk to Lyssa anymore.
“I can. She’s waiting just like the rest of us.”
“I’m tired of people being hurt,” Cara said.
“Me too, sweetheart.”
Cara focused on how it had felt to kick Fryson in the back of the calf, to have his leg crumple just as her mom had shown her. So many things Brit had told her, and none of them were as true as that bit of body physics. His arm had gone numb just as her mom had explained. The next move was for Cara to let him hit the floor, then drive her knee into his chest and hack him in the throat with the blunt edge of her hand. Then jump up and run away.
“Starting surgery,” Sinnis said. “First incision complete. Would you like a projection of the procedure on the holodisplay?”
“No,” Fran said quickly.
Fryson looked at Cara with a cruel smile. “Yes,” he said. “Proceed.”
“Excellent,” Sinnis said.
Cara’s dad appeared floating face down above the cocoon with his chin lowered toward his chest and arms against his body. A spider-like assembly hung above the back of his head, composed of hundreds of articulated arms radiating from a central circle. The arms neatly split his scalp and peeled the skin and hair back, revealing a dome of wet, pink skull.
“Stop this,” Fran said. She moved toward Fryson.
“You stay away from me,” the medical tech said. “This isn’t hurting anybody. You take one more step and I’m going to enter the halt code and your boy will be stuck in the medcouch with his skull hanging out. You paid me for a service. You didn’t dictate how I perform it.”
Fran clenched her fists and looked like she was going to backhand the man.
“It’s all right,” Cara said. “I want to see.”
“You don’t have to watch,” Fran said. “It’s not going to change anything if you watch or not.”
Cara couldn’t take her eyes away from the surgery. The spider’s arms moved with rapid, relentless precision. Several times, the whole assembly rotated or tilted to allow a deeper penetration of her dad’s skull. He hung unconscious, eyes closed and breathing regular.
“Is Lyssa still there?” Cara asked.
Fugia didn’t answer, only squeezed her hand.
The surgery went on for another thirty minutes. Cara watched a counter on one of the pieces of medical equipment counting up in what seemed to be one-second increments. Fran crossed and uncrossed her arms, augmented eyes boring into the cocoon as if she didn’t want to see the holodisplay playing out above it. Fugia watched with rapt attention, frowning every so often like something had surprised her.
The counter reached nineteen-hundred and six when Sinnis said, “Unexpected.”
Cara stared at the NSAI, her mouth going dry.
“What’s that?” Fryson asked, looking up from his terminal.
“Unexpected,” Sinnis said again. “Anomaly encountered. Unauthorized removal activity observed. Access denied.”
“No, it’s not,” the med tech said. He threw his portable terminal on a shipping crate and leaned down to study the med couch’s control panel. He looked up at Fran. “This thing has every access code available. It’ll remove the living heart from a baby if I enter the right code.”
“What’s it doing?” Cara demanded.
“Whatever’s in your dad’s head isn’t letting the autodoc remove it,” Fryson said. He looked at Fran again. “What the hell is this?”
“Specialty tech,” she said, “like you said.”
“This isn’t specialty tech,” Fryson said. “This machine overrides everything.”
In the holodisplay, the silver spider’s arms had frozen in place.
“Is Lyssa talking to you?” Cara asked, looking from Fran to Fugia. “Can she help?”
“She’s not answering,” Fran said quietly. She turned away from the cocoon and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. It was the first time Cara had seen Fran express fear. Fran stood still for a few seconds, breathing slowly, then dropped her hands and turned around, looking to Fugia.
“Can you do anything with the software?” she asked.
Fugia wet her lips, then shook her head slowly. “I’ve checked all of it. It’s as cobbled-together as he says, but it looks like it should have the access. This has to be a failsafe Jickson put in place.”
“Hey,” Fryson complained, pointing a finger at Fugia. “What have you been doing with my system? Did you mess it up?”
Fugia shook her head. “I didn’t do anything but verify that you can do what you said you could.
“I didn’t authorize that,” Fryson said. “Besides, if you cracked my systems with a Link connection, that’s messed up. I can’t trust the security protocols.”
“You can trust them,” Fugia said wearily. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Close him up,” Fran said, the command returning to her voice. “If you can’t perform the removal then have the machine perform whatever corrective actions it can and give him back to us.”
“But, Fran,” Cara said, then realized she didn’t know what to say. Fran was right. If the machine couldn’t help her dad, it was better for them to leave as soon as possible.
Fryson stared at Fran for a second, then shrugged and turned to his equipment. He tapped the control panel and stabbed a button with his index finger, then made a lasso motion with his hand.
“Ending attempt,” Sinnis said. “Completing surgical operations.”
“Wait,” Fugia said. “Sinnis. Verify encountered command authority.”
The NSAI paused like it was trying to remember something, then nodded. “Administrative authority maintained by Psion Group, Limited. Would you like the verification token?”
“Yes,” Fugia said in a cold voice.
“Transmitting,” the AI said cheerily. “Continue procedure?”
“Affirmative,” Fryson said. “Let’s get these nice people and their zombie out of here.”
Fran clenched her fists again. Cara considered the pulse pistol, thinking about what setting would best knock Fryson into the wall hard enough to cause internal bleeding without killing him.
She stopped herself, aware her hand had drifted toward the holster. Her whole body was shivering with tension that was equal parts fear and anger. She didn’t know what was going to happen now. Her dad wasn’t going to get better. Ceres had been destroyed. Her world was changing faster than she could track, and Fryson was grinning at her as she did her best to make sense of it all. The world was ugly, and it had chewed up her father and now it was going to spit him out broken and leave her alone with Tim.
Cara raised her gaze past the cocoon to meet Fryson’s leer. She set her mouth in a straight line and slowly put her hand on the grip of the pistol, sliding her fingers around the knurled metal until it fit her palm, and her trigger finger edged the guard.
She tapped the body of the pistol three times to set its charge rate, watching Fryson as she did. She saw the flicker of fear in his eyes, his smile fading, and he looked away abruptly as the cocoon slid open, revealing her father.
Cara decided not to kill Fryson.
Her dad lay on the medcouch, breathing steadily.
“Administering waking agent,” Sinnis said. “Vital signs normal. Thank you for choosing Heartbridge.”
As the AI’s avatar faded, Andy raised a hand to rub his forehead. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to see Fran. He frowned, twisting his head the other direction to see Fugia and Cara. When his gaze met Cara’s, he smiled.
“Hey there, Cara,” he said. “Nice to see you.”
“Dad?” Cara asked. She rushed forward, cutting around the medcouch so she could press herself against him as she sat up slowly. Fran put a hand under his other arm to help him up.
“How you feeling?” she asked, tears edging her bright green eyes.
“I’ve felt better,” he said. He touched the back of his head gingerly. “I take it you cut me open.”
“I did,” Fryson said from behind Andy. “And your kid tried to kill me.”
Cara felt her dad pat the back of her head, then pull her closer for a hug. His chest felt strong and warm.
“If that’s the case, I’m sure she had a good reason,” Andy said. “You know what? I’m hungry. Where can we get some food? Where are we anyway?”
Cara felt a moment of dread that he didn’t remember deciding to come here, then squeezed him harder and helped him stand from the bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 01.15.2982 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Fryson’s Clinic, Traverna
REGION: Jovian L1 Hildas Asteroids, Jovian Combine, OuterSol
It had been difficult not to answer Fugia or Fran when they had asked if she was all right, but Lyssa had been focused on Sinnis. The Heartbridge NSAI gave her an opportunity to observe an aspect of herself she had never seen before: her physical form. While the medbay on the Sunny Skies had been able to scan Andy’s Link for typical malfunctions, Sinnis had the ability to interact with her on a fundamental level.
She had seen horror vids where the human patient is awake during a terrible surgery, watching the autodoc dig around in their intestines, and this felt similar. As Sinnis moved deeper into Andy’s body, Lyssa had been terrified that each moment might be her last, or that she at least would find herself terribly changed.
But she was willing to undergo the procedure to save Andy, until Sinnis ran into the administrative barrier, and she understood what Dr. Jickson had done. The hardware carrying her mind would kill its host before it allowed her to be harmed or even removed.
Andy rubbed his temples as he walked out of the litter-strewn medbay, greasy-haired Fryson watching the group with a predatory leer. Fran walked with her hand on Cara’s shoulder, keeping herself between the girl and the man she’d kicked.
Fugia was last out of the room. Lyssa hung in her Link as Fugia told Fryson, “You understand that if you talk about us, it’s your ass, right?”
“Right,” the med tech said.
“I’m not sure you believe me,” Fugia said. Lyssa watched with fascination as Fugia exploited an update protocol in Sinnis’ base software to take control of the NSAI. The holodisplay flickered alive and the AI stood in front of the couch again, looking around with the same benevolent expression. Only this time, Sinnis spoke with Fugia’s words.
“I’ll cut the brain out of your cash cow,” Sinnis said, looking at Fryson. “Understand?”
Fryson dropped his leer. “How are you doing that?”
“I’m doing it,” Fugia said. “That’s all that matters.” She left the NSAI standing with its friendly smile as she left the room.
It hadn’t occurred to Lyssa to attack a human’s Link.
Fugia said.
By the time they were back at the lift, Lyssa had focused her attention on the Traverna central network, reviewing recent port logs and checking for anything interesting. There had been an influx of ships since the Ceres attack as traffic tried to get as far from the populated parts of Sol as possible, which brought in a rush of new goods and money. The station was apparently busier than it had been in years.
Checking in with Fran, Lyssa secured deuterium reserves for Sunny Skies as well as new food stores.
Cara continued to hold Andy’s hand as they navigated the crowded corridors. Lyssa flashed through surrounding databases for gambling stats, gaming services, maintenance records and security audits.
Traverna didn’t maintain security per se, but the central administration did keep a “not allowed” list of ships that was interesting to review. She didn’t recognize any of the ships or crews, not that she should have.
She found it strange that a place like Traverna could operate without a central AI like Fred on the M1R. Instead, the station had a series of cobbled-together NSAI that managed separate systems and appeared to contradict one another constantly, creating shortages and other inefficiencies. After a few minutes of observation, she understood that the inhabitants of Traverna liked the chaos—it created opportunities.
Lyssa didn’t encounter another SAI in her travels through the station’s systems—only the NSAI bouncing into each other as they were directed by humans through poorly considered programming. She wondered what would happen if she placed a Weapon Born in a place like Traverna to control the NSAI. With its location on the opposite side of the Jupiter, she forecasted the station becoming an even busier place as more traffic tried to avoid Ceres. There would be thousands of places like Traverna as turmoil in InnerSol pushed humanity even further out.
Recalling how easy it had been to manipulate the fuel economy around Europa, she wondered how difficult it would be to control a place like this. What she needed were manufacturing and fabrication facilities like those on Resolute Charity. And she would need more seeds, or a wa
y to replicate the Weapon Born similar to Alexander’s shards. It was foolish to think of replicating a SAI, and she didn’t like the idea of creating non-sentient beings, but the idea of a tree with branches and flowers appealed to her: new sentience growing from the trunk of the Weapon Born.
This was all conjecture. Now that Andy was at least able to control himself again, she knew they would be making decisions about where to go next, which she doubted was another hiding place like Traverna.
Fugia and Fran were on edge the whole trip back to the shuttle, while Cara kept her attention on her dad. Andy was disoriented but seemed more clear-headed than he had since they left Neptune. He had to ask Cara twice where they were, then looked at her as if she was making up a story, despite the proof everywhere he looked. He was like an old man.
“Traverna? Why?”
“We wanted to get you to a surgeon, Dad.”
“I understand. But Traverna is terrible.”
Fran, listening from ahead of them, said, “I like the market here. I wanted to stop and do some shopping.”
Rather than getting the joke, Andy just frowned. Lyssa hated the expression of worry on Cara’s face, edged with an anger that hinted at deep hurt. Andy was the one who continually told her there wasn’t much good to be found in hope, and now she seemed to be debating the truth of his words as she watched his gaze move around the corridor like a lost man.
“I’ve avoided this place for years,” Andy said. “Brit wanted to come here once when there was a job to move some internally secured crates. I wouldn’t do it without verifying the cargo. I’ll be damned if I’m letting mystery cargo on my ship.”
They took a different path to the shuttle bays than they had before, and Lyssa checked ahead, skipping between sensor systems scattered along the corridor. This way seemed less busy, but she noted several people who were obviously private security of some kind. Two guarded a set of reinforced doors while four others roamed among the crowd, conducting active scanning on anyone they passed.
