“Don’t you think your access to certain other technologies might interfere with your goal? Outcome is everything here,” Matthias replied, taking the stairs to a skywalk spanning a major traffic hub.
“Have you met this guy? He would give us the resources to create this ethical and stable intelligent agent?” Matthias asked, trying to keep Ashton on the line.
Ashton didn’t respond. The line going dead a moment later. Matthias looked down at his phone quizzically then up along the skywalk illuminated by the streetlights below. A single individual walked purposefully toward him. Matthias squinted in the dark, just making out the jacket and glasses Ashton had been wearing previously. They converged on each other at the center of the skywalk.
“I’ve met him,” Ashton said plainly, looking out at São Paulo.
“And? Who am I dealing with here exactly?” Matthias inquired persistently.
“He’s an anachronism and a pack rat living in a tiny apartment filled with stacks of paper and not a single computer other than an ancient mobile he carries. He dresses like he hasn’t paid attention to fashion trends for decades, but he appears to be younger than me. For someone that can so accurately consider the sum of the future, he lives decidedly in the past,” Ashton said, leaning on the railing.
“How does he make these assumptions, these accurate predictions about people?” Matthias asked.
“He does it in his head, but don’t ask him for stock picks or to read your palm. I don’t think the way he thinks allows for him to collect the whole of a thing he isn’t intensely interested in,” Ashton answered with a smile.
“You’ve looked into him?”
Ashton laughed. “Yes, I did my due diligence with all my investors, and I turned down his offer initially. Eventually, he just circumvented my attempts to avoid shadowy individuals by creating an impressive array of covers and corporate fronts for his desires. I think he represents a large controlling interest in many legitimate businesses and institutions through stock manipulation, cash holdings, and anything else that allows him to stay anonymous. Do you think he might be CGG Intelligence, throwing a wide net over both of us?”
“No,” Matthias replied, lowering his gaze slightly.
“How can you be sure?”
“I would know him already, and there would be none of these elaborate demonstrations of his abilities or intent,” Matthias replied a little more calmly.
Ashton looked somewhat startled by Matthias’ admission.
“I doubt we’ll ever know who he really is, but he’s helping my company and it sounds like you would get to do something you’ve never done before,” Ashton ventured, hoping he’d succeeded in recruiting Matthias.
Smoke drifted by the skywalk as the sounds of evening raids on protestor camps rang out in the night. The beat of canister launchers and weapons fire could be heard as the brilliant flash of petrol bombs lit up a neighborhood not far away. Ashton looked on with disinterest, as if the scene was playing out in front of him for the hundredth time.
“I’m in. But, I’ll need time to travel on occasion. I want to head my own project, pick my own people, and have a secure place to work,” Matthias said after a long pause.
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
“You haven’t already?”
“You deciding to join my firm and agreeing to all this was not a forgone conclusion. I was told it would be a fifty-fifty chance either way,” Ashton said with a bemused smile.
“That’s strangely comforting.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Chapter 7
Helsinki, Finland
January 22nd, 2200
Taylor’s Diary, Part 4
I woke up in a dimly lit observation room in Helsinki General. The last thing I remembered was standing in the street outside a convenience store while my friends were inside fighting with some soldiers who had turned mercenary. I felt a sharp pain in my side and then nothing.
I tried to sit up, but Silverstein urged me to lay back. Ezra was there, too. I’d never seen him look so miserable. He grabbed my hand and acted like it was his fault. I looked down at the pile of my clothes lying beside me on a chair and began to cry. I really couldn’t help it.
“You’re safe now. Please don’t cry,” Ezra pleaded.
I reached over and picked up my fuzzy-snuzzy coat and looked through the bloody bullet hole in the side. I’d worked so hard on it and now it was ruined. I was beside myself with grief as I clutched my prized garment and wondered what sort of world we lived in where someone would do something like this.
“I don’t have any more stuffed animals to skin so I can fix it. Whoever did this is going to pay!” I said angrily, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“Um, I think there are stuffed animals in the gift shop near the entrance,” Ezra said, eyes wide.
“Pink, purple, blue, or green... this coat already has too much brown and red. Go-go,” I pleaded with Ezra who sprinted off through the door.
“In case you were worried, you’re okay. Dr. Labs got the bullet out of you,” Silverstein said smiling at me.
“I was shot?” I asked.
Dr. Labs handed me a glass vial containing a long and very slender rifle round.
“Cool! I’ll be able to make a necklace with that,” I said grabbing the vial and while gesturing for my bag sitting across the room.
“Tell me about the armored transport,” Silverstein asked, handing me my bag.
“What about it?” I replied dropping the glass vial into my bag alongside the rest of my extremely important stuff.
“It followed us back to the hospital like a stray dog,” Silverstein said with a slight grin, obviously implying I had something to do with it.
“The onboard computer has a basic AI that can operate the vehicle in a rudimentary fashion in the event the crew is disabled somehow. Maybe it just likes me better than those thugs it was hanging out with before,” I suggested, honestly not knowing why it had behaved that way.
“Okay, well when you’re feeling better...” Silverstein began.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said hugging him.
Ezra came back into the room nearly knocking Dr. Labs down. He was carrying an armful of stuffed animals, mostly purple. This was perfect because I already had a lot of blue and green in my coat. The purple was really going to set it off and would blend in with whatever blood I couldn’t get out of the surrounding area. I couldn’t believe how badly the bullet had damaged my coat.
I lifted my shirt and checked my wound for the first time. It was covered in a bandage so I started peeling it back. The doctor came over and tried to get me to leave it alone, but I told him I wanted to see. He helped me pull back the bandage and looked at the stitches crossing over my side just below my ribs.
“I don’t know how you survived to be honest, you lost a lot of blood, and the tissue damage was severe.... what the... it is almost completely healed up now,” Dr. Labs said completely astonished after looking at the wound.
Ezra and Silverstein looked to each other somewhat panicked.
“I’ve taken some illegal rejuvenation drugs. It boosted my body’s ability to heal. I used to skateboard professionally,” I said, totally lying my ass off.
The doctor seemed to accept that explanation and wandered out of the room to check on some of the other injured and sick still under his care.
“Whew, that was as good a story as I could have thought up. Nice one,” Silverstein whispered.
“I’d think you would be used to my awesome by now,” I replied twirling my finger as a signal that they needed to turn around while I dressed, which they did.
I then sat down and took a nail file to one of the purple stuffed pigs Ezra had brought me. I smiled as I turned and read the label.
“Pi
cked out some good ones, Ezra,” I replied gleefully pulling the stuffing out of the purple pig.
“Least I could do. It’s my fault you got shot,” Ezra moaned.
“He serious?” I asked Silverstein and laughed.
“Ezra feels responsible because he was in saving my bacon while you were out in the street alone. I’ve tried to tell him it could have happened to any one of us out there at any time, but...” Silverstein put a hand on Ezra’s shoulder.
“Getting shot is easily among the top five coolest things that have happened to me, right beneath meeting you guys,” I said whisking Ezra’s little skull cap off and kissing his forehead.
He reached up groping for his little hat but I held it out of reach taunting him for a moment before giving it back. He blushed slightly and put his hat back on. Silverstein looked at me relieved.
“I’m glad you’re not mad at me. I don’t think I could bear it,” Ezra replied.
We sat and gabbed for a while as I integrated the purple pig hide into my coat to repair the damage. I used a biological spill kit hanging on the wall to clean the blood off my fuzzy-snuzzy coat and then put it on. It was as good as new, or maybe even better. It did seriously need a little purple to keep it from looking like I was just wearing it for attention.
Eamon was in the hallway sleeping, as usual, silly bear man creature thing. I poked him with my finger and patted his head until he woke up. His eyes were just slits at first then opened wide upon catching sight of me.
“You’re okay!” He whisked me off the ground, showering me with affection and bear-breath.
“Y-yeah, all better. Careful, I got shot yesterday remember? You sure sleep a lot, are you supposed to be hibernating?” I said giggling.
“Oh, oops. It’s warm in here, I can’t help it. I can’t believe you’re already feeling better. I thought you were a goner,” Eamon said laughing as he set me down.
That’s when I heard it; a tone indicating that someone’s mobile just received a message. All the communication networks were supposed to be down. Silverstein and I pulled out our mobiles. It wasn’t mine and Silverstein looked at his quizzically.
“Dark web is still operating. Apparently, I’ve made us some travel arrangements,” Silverstein said, thumbing the touchscreen on his mobile as he read the message.
It was hard to believe any network still functioned at this point, so I held up my own mobile. I willed it to seek out whatever network Silverstein was connected to, but there was nothing. My mobile just displayed a ‘no service’ message.
“It came up through selected servers long enough to send me the message, then it went right back down again,” Silverstein said.
“We want to trust anything that came to us that way?” Ezra asked, standing on his tip toes to see the screen on Silverstein’s mobile.
“It says the arrangements were made by a Mr. Vance Uroboros and his three guests, Taylor, Ezra One, and Matthias Ericsson,” Silverstein said handing his mobile to Ezra so he could read the message himself.
“It’s too bad the dark web went back down. I would have liked to have checked my mail, assuming the servers where that is stored came back online, too,” I replied sadly.
“You think anyone has sent you mail lately?” Silverstein asked.
“Hey, I’m pretty popular. If the communications networks weren’t defunded, the email would be piling up,” I replied, checking my nails.
Silverstein smiled broadly, something he rarely did anymore. I couldn’t help but miss the time we spent together in Port Montaigne, even if it was a little crazy. He and I shopping at the market, dodging the corporate cleaners, and bringing him pancakes while he fixed the books at the Strip & Waffle.
I think we experience moments like that so we have at least one good memory to cling to in dark times, a point of positive perspective to outweigh the rest of the adversity in our lives. I wonder if everyone feels that way or if they just move moment to moment looking for the next experience. I wanted to know how much of what I felt and thought about was intrinsic to being human, and if humans do the same, even being human.
Hope was all we had. So far it had been all we really needed.
“Says we’ll be serviced by a third party carrier. What does that mean?” Ezra asked Silverstein, handing back his mobile.
“It’s a sort of code, maybe? It could mean that whoever is providing the transportation won’t be a commercial on-the-grid carrier. It might be being handled by someone as underground as the dark web itself,” Silverstein replied.
“What are you guys going to do?” Eamon asked.
“It is the only trail of breadcrumbs we have right now. It could be Dr. Madmar, but I doubt he would be so obvious if he just wanted to harm us. Or maybe it’s one of my clones carrying out instructions I gave before losing my memory,” Silverstein replied. “The message says we have to be at the latitude and longitude listed in four hours. It’s eight miles from here.”
“I wonder if Mr. APC outside would give us a ride,” I said, touching a finger to my lips.
We walked outside together, Abbey joining us from the foyer. The APC sat quietly by the curb, its oversized treads a polite three inches away. I could remember feeling something last time I touched it, so I did the same again and closed my eyes.
Residing within was a very simple AI with roughly the cognitive features and complexity of a small child. It had only a handful of directives, none of which could be carried out because the networks were all down and its parent systems, housed elsewhere, were offline. It was scared and followed me because I was the closest thing to a network it was able to find.
The side hatch opened allowing a metal step ladder to drop down. Silverstein grabbed me by the hips and held me aloft so I could climb inside. Ezra leapt up beside me, his rifle at the ready, but the interior was empty. The controls came to life and the interior lit up as the APC’s engine started up and began to idle.
“No one home,” Ezra called down to Silverstein, Eamon, and Abbey.
I wasn’t so sure. I placed my hands on the console at the communication officer’s seat and felt my way around the internal systems of the APC. The AI was there waiting for me, a prompt opening at the terminal. I asked for his designation.
“VRSAI-013,” appeared on the screen beside the terminal.
“Versa is what I will call you from now on,” I instructed, willing the necessary commands to be executed.
“Versa-013, online, all systems nominal,” appeared on the screen this time.
Silverstein climbed in behind me and looked around the interior.
“This thing could transport a squad of soldiers, cargo, and support crew pretty easily. Think you can get it to take us to the rendezvous point? It’d be nice to have some insurance,” Silverstein asked.
“This ‘thing’ has a name. It’s Versa,” I said, correcting him.
“Does it have feelings?” Silverstein inquired, genuinely concerned he’d offended Versa.
“Versa is like a child in a lot of ways. Whoever built this APC probably designed him that way so that it would feel protective of the crew and ‘need’ them. It makes what those soldiers were doing all the more despicable. Versa was just doing what he thought he was supposed to. From what I’ve been able to gather, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” I explained, feeling very professorial all of a sudden.
“How do you know Versa is a boy?” Ezra asked me.
“By the composition of the code. Artificial intelligences are often given a gender to make them seem more accessible and friendly,” Silverstein responded.
I gave him a look, indicating my displeasure.
“Hey, I wasn’t trying to steal your thunder. I can know things,” Silverstein said with a laugh.
“It’s more than simply the composition of the code, but yes, that�
��s basically true,” I explained to Ezra.
“Will he help us?” Ezra asked.
“Definitely, but if we are going to leave he needs to be entrusted to someone that will take care of him. Without a crew, he will get lonely and despondent. He needs people,” I replied.
“Abbey, can you come up here?” Silverstein shouted.
“Man, everyone gets to look around but me,” Eamon said, peaking in through the bottom of the external hatch.
“You won’t fit!” I laughed.
“He might in the portion designed to carry the squad,” Ezra said, pointing to the aft compartment.
“Maybe if he can fit his own aft compartment through the door,” Abbey said climbing into the crew compartment with us.
“Hey, this is all muscle lady,” Eamon proclaimed proudly.
Abbey looked about. It was clear she’d been inside of one of these before, but maybe not for a long time. She had that nostalgic look on her face as she wandered over to a gunnery position. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her that I never got around to.
“Need some new wheels?” Silverstein asked.
“I dunno, I’d have to find and train a crew to help me run it. Is the AI still sane or has it degraded?” Abbey asked.
“Versa is fine. Even though the APC is almost forty years old, he appears to have no degradation associated with extended use. His action log is extensive too, making me think he’s an anomaly of sorts, but the good kind, if that makes sense,” I replied.
“Compos mentis AI’s were rare back in the day. It was always good to get a vehicle that had one,” Abbey said sitting down at the primary gunnery position, tapping in her old access codes.
The gunnery position complied and the aft hatch opened allowing Eamon to scramble inside the area where a squad would sit. The lights in the interior of the vehicle seemed to glow brighter as Versa’s mood gradually began to improve. Silverstein sat in the pilot’s seat while Ezra took the secondary gunner’s chair. I shrugged and took the communication officer’s station.
Uroboros Saga Book 2 Page 10
