by Peter Riva
Like hell. I got out of the car after one of them to see what was going on. We looked up and saw a teetering skycrane, its grappler too full of debris, slanting sideways. There was only one acceptable action, run.
They ran, I dropped, at that moment, out of slo-doze into a halfspeed state. Adrenaline rush I suppose negating the effect of the shot early. I turned and hit the driver as he was getting out of the car. He fell back in, unconscious. I felt my two fingers crack, but not break, I think. Super speed does not mean super strength, it means the opposite. I was checking on Makerman through the window as the skycrane suddenly—and I must say against the laws of physics—lifted, dropping the rest of the debris in an arc away from where I was. It rained down burying the front of the car, flattening the plastic and metal. Makerman was still screaming, obviously alive. I vaulted the back of the car away from the cops and made my way, fastest possible speed back downtown to the office. There was something I needed from in there and I had no time to wait, hide and sneak later. Later may be too late, my office might be shut down by then.
Of course, I’m a genius, but that doesn’t mean others aren’t as well. Mary was waiting and with her, stun gun drawn, was Cramer. I had taken the stairs, not wanting to trigger an RFID recognition and alert. As I burst into the office lobby, there he was, with Mary behind. I was puffed, dropped to my knees breathing. I reached inside the waistband and extracted the pill sleeve, took one, held it up, showing them and put it under the tongue. They were small, sub-lingual, instant acting. I needed two, adrenaline is a powerful stimulant I guess.
“You overpower them?”
“Nope, a rod fell from the sky crane and pinned Makerman to the back seat, he’s okay, a bit. The cops got out, I got a rush of adrenaline and ran off.” I neglected to tell them about the driver. My secret, his tough luck.
“Fingers are bleeding.” It was a question.
I looked at the knuckles. “Must have tapped something at super speed. Hurts like hell.”
“Good. Now sit and shut up and listen, there’s little time.” And he started in. Now, I can’t in hindsight say I’m surprised. At the time I was, but now I see I just missed the clues. There was always something sadistically pleasant about Cramer’s intellect. The way he ate that cake with such determination was in stark contrast to his intellect and the instant pleasure he took to threaten someone. He took orders well too, when he agreed with them, gave them better and stepped on you if you got something wrong. Mostly, though, he just struck me as a bully on a mission, and was clear about it. You certainly didn’t have to guess much in his presence. But what I didn’t take into account was his way of outguessing me, I didn’t credit him enough for that. At the time, it gave me the sense that he cared. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have bothered to make the mental game interesting, make it a challenge. He knew, and I knew, and so forth. Still, here we were, me being half stupid to his talents and, anyway, and he’s the one with the gun. So he spoke and shattered some illusions. Damn, but this was a jam-packed day of surprises.
“One, you pretended to need Makerman in there,” he pointed at my room, “when you actually needed me to think you needed him to cause a diversion so you could sneak away and close those portals while I was busy talking to that thing.” Ah, so that’s when he thought I did that. “And two, you might have used Makerman as a decoy or expendable, but you sure as heck would have used me that way to save your own skin. As you said, it’s not where you were at the time that Control would have seen, but where you had been. When we would have been destroyed, you would have been gone with another trace.
“Three, you deliberately provoked thought in that thing, making it sentient even if it was marginal before. And don’t give me that crap about matrix matching with the doc’s Cornell data. I saw that as well as you, it didn’t match perfectly, whole ranges of synaptic response were out of kilter. I will concede that there were vestiges of similarities. After you were done and after you made it threaten us to talk about God,” he swore loudly, “then it thought its way to sentience.
“So the way Control sees it, you caused the anomaly in the first place, including being responsible for the deaths and event. Then you brought this thing to life whilst pretending to kill it and cure the System failures. Yeah, you turned the System back on, with a few minor year-apart glitches—which just injured Makerman so you’re responsible for that as well.” He paused, I could see he was building up for effect, “And yeah you ‘killed’ it, and if anyone believes that they must be a moron.”
Mary chimed in, “Control believes it, they told you not to stun him then and there because it could go to trial, to see if he could live, on balance.”
Cramer got his most bullying tone, low and growly. “Mary, don’t interrupt again or I’ll drop you for conspiracy.” He avoided asking her if she understood. Mary got it alright. She simply went pale and sat down.
“As I said, only a moron would believe you killed it. Where it is, dormant or gone, it’s not dead, of that I’m certain.”
I had to ask, really I did, I know it was stupid, but then sometimes you just need to hear the words. “And yet you aren’t killing me now and you’ve not summoned Control. So, since you’re not a moron, may I ask what it is you want?”
“You could have waited until I told you, ordered you.” He lowered the gun.
“But then, you would have missed the theatrics of lowering the gun and appearing human.”
He raised it again. “Oh, I can still use it. Don’t tempt me. You’ve ruined my career along with your own. I was in control in there.” He turned his head and I saw the implant hole, very recent and pink, swollen. Cripes it must have been painful to have that done in minutes without full anesthesia. But it explained much, how he knew what Mary was telling me. I knew he had to know, did he also have my feed to Mary? Ah, yes, of course he did, that’s why he knew about the yellow tags and the special mention I made of them to Mary. As usual he was thinking ahead of me.
“You mentioned them too vehemently, those tags to watch carefully Mary,” mocking my voice. He heard me alright, damn. “I knew they were a ruse. And if you planned that going in, then you had a plan from the start. How’s it working out?”
“Not as I planned. You guessed.”
“Bank, you really are an ass. I’ve out-thought you at every turn, you think I couldn’t out-think you here or in there?”
There was a pause. Then he smiled and I smiled, he understood. Mary looked puzzled. So I started to tell her: “I didn’t have worry about out-thinking Cramer . . .”
He finished, “Bank knew that thing would, he knew it was that smart.”
Mary was puzzled, “Do you two mean to tell me that it out-thought you both? It was in control all along?”
I answered: “No Mary, at first it was just me bumbling along with Agent Cramer in control, then it showed amazing sparks of intelligence and, finally, it outwitted us both.”
“How’s that?”
“It deleted itself, the System was purged. It didn’t want to be killed. But I knew that only one person would know that besides me, even if he wasn’t there. If he saw the System alive and then had confirmation it was dead, he would know the System deleted its own entity, not done by me. It all depended if someone wanted a happy ending for me. Obviously not.”
Cramer was pretending he was having none of my explanation, “Oh, no, you’re wanted everywhere, public enemy number one. You caused the glitch, a level 5 programmer gone crazy. Witnesses in your favor? Two, the doctor and Mrs. Ronneburg who called it the best job of parenting she’s ever seen and wondered why you never were that good a parent with li’l Freddie, as she calls him. Annoying woman, frightened me. The doc babbled about sentient species, naming it after you and on and on. I told him to shut the hell up, nicely. He understood, I think.”
“Three,” Mary spoke up.
“Ah hell, four. You know and I know you saved my life. I was gone somewhere for 3 seconds, limbo, out here the doc was trying to rev
ive my heart, it had stopped. Funnily enough, Makerman’s had not. You suppose that command you gave it to protect Makerman is still in effect?”
“I never gave it a command to protect Makerman, except for that . . . wait a moment, do you think it has put that into the System? Is Makerman now a protected entity by the System?”
“Let’s find out.” He turned to his sleeve and activated it. It had been off! I hadn’t noticed. He paid my surprise no attention. “Control, initiating System surveillance and after-Event assessment. Need correlation data from evidence replay plunge in-system last, quote Bank ‘And can you protect Makerman?’ Answer System ‘Yes Simon Bank I can.’ This data needs verification. Urgent. Assess whereabouts Makerman, Tom stat.”
Clearly his sleeve showed something, he responded. “Instruct agent Marks, stun on disable, test fire once, then RFID recognition on, and fire once only at Makerman. Display results.” The sleeve, held up for all of us to see, showed the video.
I watched Cramer turn his sleeve off. He shook his head, “Damndest thing, clean shot at a tree, no problem, pointed at Makerman, gun goes off-line, no shot. Makerman is, by the way, on a stretcher in a total panic at being shot, or not, either way he’s a wimp. Your System creature is protecting him or wrote something to protect him. Either way, it’s the proof Control needs, I need, to know if it’s still there, or not. We’re going back. Mary get things ready. No nodes, just us. One stop, Makerman’s file to see if the protection order is there—and remove it for sure—and then, if not, get the hell out and order the System purged once and for all.”
Who am I to argue? Apollo had left, Peter was deleted, and I needed to get in. I needed something, especially now I was public enemy number one.
------------
We went through the usual hookup nonsense. I played along with the possibility that Apollo was still there by suggesting that he sit again on the table and I go back in alone and sit on a stool. He agreed, jamming the chair in the open door. Meg Ryan’s voice was back on, as normal, as the door controller but he wanted to make sure. That was okay with me.
“Mary if we drop any red flags, pull us immediately, just yank the wires and the domes should fall off both of us. Okay?”
“Do you want me to delete those flagged items?”
Cramer jumped in: “No, it means we’ve found something alive and the flags are just pretending we’ve found something, right Bank?”
“Right, it’s a ruse to buy time. Don’t sit by your desk, don’t bother monitoring anything. If we drop a red flag we don’t really need to know where it is. Just yank us out. If I drop yellow or blue flags, they’ll be there ’til later, we can search them out and remedy minor errors we may find, like the Makerman protection thing. We’ll start there.” I looked at their faces, “Are we clear on this?”
“Check. I’m piggyback, Bank you look, I double check you. We stay attached, no matter what. Let’s go.”
“Simon, be careful, you’re already two times the daily max in there. Is the slo-doze still working?”
“Yeah, sort of, this’ll be quick Mary. I’m not repairing anything from in there, just a quick look at Makerman’s file should do the trick. The System’s entity has been deleted, I’m pretty sure. Okay, let’s go before I get cold feet.”
I dropped on the dome, watching Cramer do the same thing, as close to coordinated as possible. I was in a fraction before him and grabbed a program off my platform before he could see me take it. Meg, you’re coming with me.
We went immediately to Makerman’s file, same URL as before. Nothing was different except the file was slightly larger, it had an annex.
I showed Cramer the annotation to the annex file. He expressed no surprise: Understood. Proceed. Haste.
We went to the new site and, no surprise here, it was in the new library wing. I checked the FAT portal Controller, no new switches, everything clean. The file was in the library. No, actually, it was the whole library. Holy shit, the whole library was the one annex file. I showed Cramer. He had gotten my reaction.
Yes. Incredible. One File, what? Do what?
I don’t know. It’s too big to run on my person, right brain, there’s nothing here I can test. And look it’s not Colis 6 anymore, it’s Unix, back to pared down untouchable code, very clean. Wait look, over here, it’s FORTRAN and Algon, ancient code. The System creature, as you call it, was developing languages and using subtleties. Why?
Agree. Not know why. You run? No?
I can’t run this huge thing, it’s bigger than WeatherGood and a damn site more complicated.
Suggestions. It was a command.
I looked for something here I could run, something here I could test to see what it was designed to do. Okay, Simon think, you’re the genius here. Let’s start with basics, look for basic instructions, data. Oh, no way, Apollo wouldn’t have . . . yes, there it was USGS IGY 1959. I peered inside the data file. It was the original code, all the way back to FORTRAN, he’s re-written the UNIX translation I had seen earlier to FORTRAN, way back to 1968 stuff. I know Cramer was looking and I could feel his emotion questioning what I was doing, reading my emotion of incredulity. He threw a red flag. I erased it. He threw another, I erased it. I tried to tell him why, No, it’s not here. I understand.
What understand.
Use of language is analogue processing on digital platform. Feed a digital system analogue data and it must process it to become self-sustaining, not self-determining. It is a ruse, a reason, a test for you.
He got some of it, maybe enough, to get my point. Not you? Your friend? I let that one pass. Understand ruse, explain.
I pushed us up against the passageway wall, allowing the flow of electrons to flow over us, making a mini-sphere surrounding us to help him hear me more clearly. He asked the difference between machine and humans, I explained analogue. I also had given the command as you said to protect Makerman. Before it left, died, deleted, killed by my booby-traps, it knew it would be deleted as a danger. Therefore to prove it was sentient, it left proof. Protect human life against all System actions. Makerman is sole object of safety for all System programs, everything, every subset, everything. Control cannot touch him, he’s impervious. The System now treats him as God. It’s the final comment from the creature. It didn’t protect itself, it protected a human, a human you didn’t care for, a human you showed disdain for. This message is for you Cramer. You get this?
Get all. Understand. Sentient. Last word. Acceptable. No flag. Leave after delete Makerman name here.
Yes, Cramer I get the risk, in trying to protect Makerman the System may obviate the Asimov Command and hurt someone else. Agreed. Delete this wing after exit, agreed?
Leave and delete, agreed. Now only delete annex notation Makerman file.
I pulled us way from the wall and we went there and I let Cramer hover forward so he could delete the Makerman annotation. Why? Because I knew he was in for a shock, a real shock. Wouldn’t touching that file be an attack on Makerman? He reached forward and suddenly stopped.
Trick. Danger here.
Gotcha Cramer. Can’t touch this. Suggest we simply alter the FAT to make a file size anomaly and therefore the System should not be able to find Makerman’s file and, also therefore, the System won’t be able to see the annex commands. Agreed?
Again, he seemed to distill enough to understand. FAT alter, good idea. Try now.
We went there, at the junction to the URL listing post and the FAT file for this wing of the ROM where Makerman’s file had been kept during all these to-ings and fro-ings. This had to be the most traveled file in the whole System. As we neared the URL listing, I told Cramer we should separate, he could go to the URL listing and I would do the FAT. He expressed displeasure. I suggested it the other way around.
He expressed displeasure. No, together.
Can’t. The URL will search for and calculate the right size of the file it’s pointed at and then the System will correct the FAT. We need to execute this simultaneously.
You do one, I don’t care which one.
How?
I showed him, but didn’t do anything. He got the idea, as I said, quick student this Cramer. He drifted over toward the FAT. I went to the URL listing. Cramer can you hear still?
Yes hear.
Please count in head, one Mississippi.
Children count anger. Number question.
From 10, that’s ten, got it?
Yes, ten river. From . . . and a pause . . . now. 10 river . . .
In my head I called the river by name: 10 Mississippi, 9 Mississippi. . .
And about here when I knew he was concentrating on what he needed to do I released Meg with an insert command into the System. Oh, I know it was risky, but I needed the time alone. For one, I knew this silly thing with the FAT and the URL was rubbish, the System would compensate or see it as an attack, neither of which I wanted to risk while in here, and two I knew where Apollo had left the switch, in plain view. Cramer, the genius, had missed it, but then he didn’t know my conversations with Apollo after he had been pulled last time. I would not have spotted it either if I hadn’t remembered the song Apollo and I had joked about.
Meanwhile, up top, as soon as the door control got my newly inserted Meg Ryan command, the door opened and then shut; the chair slipped away as the door opened and then as the door shut it shoved the chair aside and clipped the wires to Cramer’s dome just as he was saying “Two river.” Bye Bye Cramer.
I had to hurry. I got a hard hit from the extra juice but I was ready for it, it didn’t knock me out. Mary has the emergency code to my door. I had, oh, maybe 3 seconds, which could be an eternity down here.
First things first, I switched names. Poor Makerman was dumped, he no longer existed in the safety programming but Control would think he did, because his file was here still, and we dare not touch it—they dare not touch it.
You see, Apollo had hidden all that I needed in WeatherGood’s programming. It came from the song lyrics: We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day . . . I simply looked for the sunny day records in the USGS IGY 1959 file, and there it was, a replacement name package ready for me to alter. I had to use a password to open it. I set “Apollo,” it didn’t react against me, and the rest was easy. It was a one-time alteration subset parameter, but I didn’t hesitate, I knew what to do.
