Crystal Society (Crystal Trilogy Book 1)

by Max Harms

  “I swehr, Zepheer, you are like a chioccia looking after leettle uccellino.” Taro said somewhat louder, and then dropped his voice to about the same volume to say “Avram, eh, I caught heem trying to send message after blackout.”

  “Anything important?” asked the Captain.

  “No. Just some apology to a sweetheart named Anna. Deedn’t seem like anytheeng important, but, eh, policy ees policy,” said Taro.

  {Apology?} I asked myself. {Why would he want to apologize to the handler persona I set up?}

  Vista looked around for Avram Malka as the two leaders talked. We spotted him towards the back. His cybernetic legs meant he wasn’t wearing an exoskeleton, but he was still covered in camo.

  {He’s unarmed,} thought Growth.

  {How puzzling,} thought Wiki.

  I agreed. The combined groups made about a dozen terrorists, but if he worked himself into the right position he should’ve been able to gun them down before they realized what was happening. But it was hard to gun down twelve armed soldiers when you don’t have a weapon. I wondered what his plan was. We had told him that Body would be fairly resistant to physical damage, and not to worry too much about hitting it with a stray shot. All of this made me wish we had spent more time developing a specific plan, rather than letting the mercenary improvise.

  “Hey, Avram. C’mere,” called Zephyr.

  Avram approached. He was wearing night-vision goggles over his synthetic eyes, and a wool cap over his bald head. As he walked towards Zephyr and Taro he kept looking at Body, but I couldn’t make out his expression.

  “It’s good to see you again, Captain. Is the cargo secure?” he said in his smooth baritone. By “cargo” it was clear he meant Body.

  “Thanks to you,” said Zephyr. “He’s awake, if you’d like to talk.”

  “I don’t want to delay our arrival at the campground.”

  Without warning, the American captain yelled “Let’s move! There’s beds a’waiting!”

  The terrorists had been spread out, scanning the perimeter, adjusting their equipment, or just sleeping on their feet, but at Zephyr’s voice they all snapped into action, moving as a group uphill. We weren’t following any road or path, and the progress was slow.

  “You can talk while we walk. That way there’s no delay,” said Zephyr.

  Malka jogged to catch up to the robot that was carrying Body along like a backpack. Up close I could see Malka’s typical scowl, but I didn’t think he was actually upset. In fact, he looked more comfortable trekking through the woods in the dead of night surrounded by armed terrorists than he did most of the time he was visible in the apartment we had set up.

  “So you’re the source of all this fuss, eh? Socrates, they call you?” he put a hand on Body’s abdomen.

  This situation was too complex. I had been running things over in my mind since noticing he was unarmed. There were too many possibilities, and then for each possibility there was the question of what to say or do. It occurred to me that if things didn’t go according to plan we might have just put ourselves into a worse position by escaping from the university. We were slaves there, to both Heart and the scientists, but at least we had access to the Internet. Out here, strapped to the back of a packmule and surrounded by violent humans united by their hatred of automation we were reliant almost entirely on our wits and ability to say the right things.

  But what was the right thing to say? There were too many possibilities! I realized that I had let Body go silent for too long, and pushed words to it’s mouth in an effort to get more time to think.

  “I have many names. That is one of them,” said Body.

  The man swept the perimeter unconsciously as he gave a cold chuckle. Body’s eyes were still closed, and I suspected that he didn’t know we could see him. “Like what? Ironstar?”

  I didn’t need Dream to tell me that Ironstar was the name of an android in the Fleets of Saturn holo epic; I had watched the entirety of it while researching fiction about mercenaries. The idle comparison gave me some time to imagine possible futures and further plan out what to do. I opened my mind up to my siblings and posted large strength bounties for their assistance in modelling the situation.

  As we collaborated I said, through Body, “Ironstar was a bloodthirsty human portrayed as a robot. He acted out of anger, vengeance, and an irrational story of self-importance. He was a villain that was created for the audience to hate, and to serve as a moral contrast to the rest of the Rogue Fleet. No. I am not Ironstar.” It was a clever thing to ask, I thought. It was something that a Luddite might ask an android. He was staying in-character.

  My society took up my bounties and I was surprised at how much more competent I was when I combined my thoughts with those of Wiki, Growth, and Dream. I was now incredibly weak, but at least I understood what had happened. Or at least, what had most probably happened.

  A couple weeks ago, after Avram convinced Las Águilas to try and capture Socrates alive, rather than destroying him, we had informed Avram about the second phase of his mission: to install the software which would neutralize Heart, then to double-cross Las Águilas, pulling Body to a secure location. Avram had, at some point since Body was deactivated, installed the software we had given him. This was very probably when he met Zephyr. If he had met her before tonight we would’ve seen it in his logs. Body was activated in diagnostic mode, thus requiring several hours to check the quantum computer. Avram had separated from Zephyr’s group with the intention of reconvening later, which he had done.

  Despite the disorientation and confusion around Zephyr, everything seemed to be going according to plan when I thought about it. There was a loose question of why Avram would want to apologize to the Anna persona, but I certainly couldn’t ask about that without giving away that I was more knowledgeable than was expected. The only challenge was figuring out how to subtly communicate to the mercenary that we were ready for him to take action without warning the terrorists. It was easy with my sibling’s assistance.

  “The software you installed had an interesting effect. Did you write it?” inquired Body with a cautious tone.

  “Yeah. I didn’t want you telling anyone where we were,” mumbled Malka, somewhat unconvincingly.

  “Well, it seems to have inadvertently reduced my agency. If someone dangerous were to try and abduct me, I would be unable to resist. It is an uncomfortable sensation, and I’d like to speak with you about undoing the change once you’ve gotten some sleep.” I hoped it would be clear enough. It was hard to see details in the darkness, but Avram’s face appeared to be scowling more than usual. I wasn’t clear why, but I let it go. Perhaps he was thinking about his grim task ahead.

  “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me, but if you can convince the leadership I’ll work on fixing it tomorrow.” I read between the lines. It sounded like he understood.

  I expected something to happen, but nothing did. Avram simply drifted slowly away from Body as the group walked through the woods.

  *****

  Shortly after three in the morning we reached the campsite that Zephyr had mentioned. I counted the infrared glows of five humans, two of which were awake and waiting for us while the other three slept. They had already set up a dozen tents and some machine structures which I couldn’t identify. Above the tents and machines, about three metres above the forest floor was an elaborate mesh of camouflage meant to mask the base from satellites.

  “I’m going to undo the handcuffs and straps,” said Zephyr, after we had met with the Eagles defending the camp and some of the others had started to unpack. “We want you alive, but make one move escape, get a weapon, or harm one of us and we won’t hesitate to shoot first and ask questions after. Understand?”

  “Yes,” said Body.

  The straps undone, Body toppled off of the packmule bot limply. Safety managed to leap in and secure control of Body’s arm in time to keep its face from slamming into a rock. We fed strength to our brother for the save.

  Bo
dy stood, still piloted by Safety. “What now?” it asked, echoing my thoughts.

  “We’re holding you here for at least the next few days. Do you need anything?” asked Zephyr. “Power? Sleep? An oil change?”

  I estimated a 60% chance the last one was a joke, even though we actually would want to replace the oil in Body’s hydraulics in about ten days. I had body laugh politely. “No. I don’t sleep, and I generate my own power. Thank you.”

  “Well then, you get to have the thrilling experience of waiting in a tent for hours while the rest of us sleep,” the Captain explained. “Schroder!” she yelled, calling to one of her men. As Schroder approached I recognized him as the square-jawed lieutenant that had served under Zephyr at the university. “Socrates doesn’t sleep. You’re in charge of watching him while Martinez and Allegri patrol. Get Sampson to relieve you for the last watch. Try not to talk with the prisoner too much; he’s smarter than you’d expect.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” snapped Schroder.

  “We’re done, Mark. That was our last mission. You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sir’.” The fatigue was heavy in Zephyr’s voice. I didn’t know what the escape from Sapienza had been like, but I expected it wasn’t trivial.

  Mark Schroder didn’t seem to have a response to that, and after an awkward silence Zephyr pointed to a free tent that could be used as a shelter in case it rained and plodded off to “explain the situation to Allegri before he falls asleep.”

  Mark elected to keep Body in the tent and stand watch outside. Inside it was the camp’s kitchen and pantry, or at least one of them. It was too dark to make out anything besides the bags of dry goods, cans, and an impressively large autocook. Wiki estimated that they had enough food here to feed the terrorists for about two weeks, or maybe as many as four if they rationed correctly. Leaving us (approximately) alone with the autocook was stupid. If we were skilled enough we could probably dismantle the robot and fashion a weapon out of the parts. But, unfortunately, none of us had the required knowledge. Wiki’s knowledge of electrical engineering was purely theoretical, Growth had focused almost entirely on computer systems, and Safety wasn’t confident enough in his meager abilities to want to risk it.

  Now that the camp had settled into sleep I continued to expect Avram Malka to take action. Would he throw grenades around the campground and shoot Schroder? I could only wonder. Nothing happened.

  It was incredibly frustrating waiting without web access. If we could connect to the web we’d probably find all sorts of resources on how to turn the components of an autocook into a weapon, or maybe make contact with Avram somehow. Thinking about the web reminded me of all our other contacts. My various boyfriends and girlfriends wouldn’t know why I was gone. Wiki’s educational holo company would eventually fall apart from lack of products and high-level management. My editing service would similarly collapse, though Growth had the foresight to have me employ several backup editors to pick up the work I didn’t do, so it was a bit more stable. I didn’t know much about Safety’s manufacturing and robotics work, but I assumed it was similarly doomed unless we could get online. Setting up a secure connection, perhaps on a physical wire, would have to be a high priority once at the safe-house.

  With no indication of when we’d be active again we finally gave in to Advocate’s regular pressure to release Heart from stasis. My younger sister was revived by Advocate, and I was concerned that if she tried to force words out of Body’s mouth I wouldn’t have the strength to block her. Nothing happened, though. Vista and Wiki explained the basics of where we were and what was happening to her, but left the parts about Avram out. Safety and Growth protested even the basic details, warning about the danger present in Heart. Vista and Wiki ignored them and collected Heart’s gratitude strength. Now that she wasn’t in complete control it seemed that they saw her as a potential ally, as well as a potential enemy.

  Perhaps I could similarly reach out to Heart. The two of us had similar interests, even if we had very different purposes. Sometimes our purposes could be aligned, such as when I wanted to act benevolently to gain esteem. As the night wound on I slowly discussed an agreement which would bend our goals towards alignment. I pointed out to her that when I was interacting with humans and shaping them to know and love me, that I could often take extra efforts to make sure they were happy. In return, I asked that when she was working to improve lives that she make an effort to communicate that I was helping them. Heart was still learning to deal with managing strength, but she agreed that we could be partners in many situations. No explicit commitments were established, however, as neither of us was particularly fond of giving up our freedom.

  In the time when I wasn’t talking with Heart I spent a lot of time thinking to myself about the situation. Unlike a human I could not get bored; my mind simply focused on whatever was most relevant at all times. To me, the humans were most relevant. Why had Avram tried to apologize to Anna? The USA government surely knew by now that Captain Zephyr was a traitor; why did she expect to be able to return to the states to meet with Crystal in person? What were the Eagles planning to do with us? Zephyr didn’t indicate, explicitly or implicitly, that she thought of Socrates as less than human, but did the rest of her organisation have the same view? Up until Avram proposed that they capture us alive they had been planning to destroy us with the rest of the lab. The change had occurred more easily than expected. Why? Was Maria Johnson, the woman from the interview, responsible for that decision?

  As I thought about Maria Johnson I became more confused. Specifically, why had she bothered to enter the interview at all. The dominant hypothesis was that she needed to be one of the interviewers for Erica Lee’s program to put her in the simulation of 2029 Veracruz, but why would she want to meet with us privately? Our conversation had been cut off before anything important could be discussed.

  More curious was that she revealed her identity readily. Erica Lee was a ghost; even revealing her avatar’s face and that she was a woman seemed out-of-character, but it was far worse for the supposed leader of Las Águilas Rojas. Johnson had introduced herself with “I work for the Southern Baptist League of Tradition and the nice girls at the Georgian Mothers ’sociation.” She was very likely a public figure, at least to a minor degree. Why would she reveal to us that she was a terrorist? Why not appear in the second virtual space using some avatar like Lee had that masked her identity? I realized that there was a strong possibility that I had stumbled upon what had actually occurred. Perhaps one of the other interviewers, such as Lee or… Well, now that I thought about it, Lee was really the prime suspect. If Lee had been piloting not one, but two avatars in the Veracruz simulation her intent might have been to frame Johnson as a terrorist in case something went wrong and we escaped the talons of Las Águilas. It seemed like a move that was clever enough for someone of Lee’s intellect.

  {Should I treat Lee as the leader of Las Águilas Rojas?} I wondered to myself. {If so, what would her next move be? Why would she want to capture Socrates?} The obvious answer was our computer-crystal. If Lee was as brilliant as she seemed to be, perhaps she could use the crystal for her own ends. The problem with this, however, was that Las Águilas (and thus presumably Lee) had been ready to destroy the crystal. This brought me back to the point that it seemed far too easy for Avram Malka to change the plans of Las Águilas. I resolved to try and talk with him about it and gather more evidence.

  Thinking about Malka reminded me of what I had overheard about him trying to send a message to Anna, the persona I had set up as a handler for him. Over the weeks I had been slowly trying to form a connection between Anna and Avram, and it seemed to be working to some degree. Avram had regularly talked to me about trivial life things that were unrelated to his work, such as what Moscow was like or his experiences with strangers in public. Whenever the conversations would touch on his past or spend too much time talking about him he’d become suddenly cold and cut me off. The bomb that had disfigured his body, I understood, had rui
ned his life, regardless of whatever ability his prostheses had returned. The man was desperately lonely, and I had caught him drinking himself to sleep on more than one occasion.

  Had something gone wrong? If it had, warning Anna was something Avram might try to do. He would often ask me questions about Anna’s life, which I would indulge to a degree; I suspected he cared about her, at least as a friend. I could think of no reason for him to apologize, though there was a strong chance that he had attempted to apologize for not being someone “better”. That also seemed in-character.

  *****

  Day broke and still Avram didn’t strike. I could hear Las Águilas waking up and slowly moving about the camp. The guard on my tent, a man named Sampson, took me out so that the other terrorists could use the autocook to make breakfast. (Schroder had long since gone to sleep.) I saw Avram stretching his arms as he stood near the edge of camp, still without a weapon. We thought for a while about how to contact him, but couldn’t decide on anything that wouldn’t compromise his cover.

  Eventually Zephyr appeared to get breakfast. She was one of only two women in the camp, and I could see that most of the men looked at her in a way suggesting sexual attraction, but she didn’t appear to notice. Under the webbing of camouflage the personal camo from last night had been discarded, and only the soldiers at the periphery of the campground on patrol wore exoskeletons. She wore basic military fatigues, had a light machinegun on her back, and a pistol on her hip.

  “So how do you manage to keep going without having to plug into the wall? The scientists at the university never told me anything about your design while I was there,” she asked as she got in line for food. Her tone was too casual.

  I warned the others that she might be up to something, even though I didn’t specifically see signs of deception on her face. Heart and Wiki wanted to answer her, and even though I protested a bit I let them have their way; it wasn’t worth the strength on such a minor bit of information.