D.A.R.I.A Book One

by Martin E. Silenus

  “Ok go, explosive pack under the second Suburban and use the stunner on Crawford,” says DARIA.

  I am cloaked and on Infra-Red vision as the street is obscured completely with smoke. But it is easy to see my way around and arm the explosive and slide it under the second Suburban. Then move through the smoke to the rear door of the first Suburban.

  With a thunderous roar the second Suburban explodes and flips up in the air spraying fire and more smoke in every direction. Immediately the door beside me opens and Crawford rolls out and drops into a combat squat with a pistol in his hand. I’m invisible in the smoke with the cloaking of the suit. I poke Crawford in the ribs with the stunner baton and he collapses to the ground. Grabbing him in a fireman lift I turn to move to the alley, just as I see a shape in my visor DARIA says,

  “Target at 10 o’clock approaching. Hit him with the stunner. You also have targets behind you at 5 and 7 o’clock so get moving.”

  Too late the 10 o’clock target sees a shape of something in the smoke and I stun him into a lump on the pavement. I shift into high gear and run down the alley easily carrying the 200 pounds of Crawford thanks to the combat suit augmentations. When I get to the sedan I flop him down into the trunk. Inside the car I shut off the cloaking, slip off the helmet, and fires up the car and move to the rendezvous point. Once there I climb out of the car, and slip the helmet back on.

  “I got him cuffed and stuffed,” I report.

  “You all set for pickup?” asks DARIA

  “Will be in a second, just need to harness this piece of shit.” I say.

  I drag Crawford’s unconscious body clear of the car as a large 8 engine drone descends dangling an electronic latch hook on the end of a cable, which I take and attach Crawford’s harness to it.

  “Ok, got him cuffed, stuffed, and hooked.” I confirm.

  “Excellent, you might want to watch this, so I will put up a window on your view screen.” chuckles Daria. “I have alerted the local authorities that they are going to have a present delivered to the roof of their Police Station. Just like pizza delivery!”

  A window opens on my view screen. In the window is a view down from the drone carrying Crawford. The drone easily carries him up the 12 stories of the Police building and as it moves over onto the roof I can see three officers waiting in the shadows. The drone lowers Crawford to within 10 feet of the officers and then cuts power to the electronic hook dropping Crawford like a sack of flour on to the roof. Then the drone rises up and slides off over the edge of the building fading away into the dark.

  “Very nice DARIA,” I chuckle.

  “And you Matt, not too shabby for a first effort was it?” retorts DARIA.

  Chapter 9: Debrief

  Back at Frosty’s place we hold a debrief session examining in detail all aspects of the mission. I am pretty happy with the whole effort and quite impressed with DARIA. But it is only the first mission and with any fellow soldier it requires many field trials to get into a rhythm and know who is doing what when. Frosty and DARIA are talking computer code and relative assigned weighting factors and such things. There is discussion of some modifications but not changing the operational gold code just yet. More operational real time experience is required. This mission and the entire DARIA computer operational code system will be backed up to a secure environment, a snap shot in time.

  Discussions of what went well, what went bad, and what was unexpected. The roof guard falling over the edge of the roof into the dumpster was discussed. In this instance it was not seen as a specific problem as it didn’t compromise the operation. But such actions could have easily caused repercussions in an operation where silence was demanded. Video was examined in detail.

  “I am confident that the tranq dart hit the guard where I was aiming, which was the side of his neck.” I offer.

  “I concur,” says DARIA. “It looks from the video that his left knee buckled just about the same time as he got hit. So I am wondering that maybe it was just something on the roof or a bad knee as opposed to the mixture of drugs in the tranq or the exact spot where the dart hit him in the neck. The video feed suggests that he walked favoring that left leg. Though at his relaxed ambling walking pace it is difficult to see.”

  “Let’s flag this incident as a possible problem and see in the next missions if there is any corroborating evidence that would suggest we have a tranq problem or the point of impact of the dart was wrong.” says Frosty.

  “Next steps are what?” I inquire.

  “Rest, and tidy up operational details, spend some money, and prepare for the next mission.” says DARIA.

  “What next mission?” I ask?

  “Whichever one you decide to take from the Police wanted posters. I have that data here and can make some recommendations if you are interested.” says DARIA.

  “Jesus,” I blurt.

  “Kinda scary isn’t she?” chuckles Frosty.

  Chapter 10: First Impressions

  I collapsed into sleep, at first the sleep of the righteous dead. Then around 3:00am I surfaced from deep sleep into shallow turbulent sleep. All the warnings and fears of the so called intellectual giants of the day came back to haunt me. Ban advanced robotics, ban advanced AI systems, ban autonomous weapons. If you do not mankind will be destroyed or enslaved by artificial life. Why do people and even the so called intellectual people always go to the most negative images and scenarios? Why is that, and it has always been so, anytime in the history of society there has been, or even the potential is seen for a significant leap forward the masses proclaim death, destruction, and the end of mankind.

  A lot of people buy into the fearmongering. They shouldn't.

  People are terrified of any change, every aspect of life is supposed to remain completely stagnant and unchanging for their lifetime. When it doesn’t people go into hysteria making the most outlandish claims possible. What is the proclivity of humans that drives them to do this? No wonder that humans by design have a relatively short shelf life. It’s a lucky damn thing we do, otherwise no progress, development, evolution would ever occur. If the Luddites of the world had their way a shovel would be the height of our mechanization and technology, and we would still refuse to wash our hands. I just don’t grasp this negative pre-disposition of people. And knowing that people and society have this negative pre-disposition to change, then what does that say about their fears of superior AI, Robotics, Autonomous weapons, Health care, science, etc, etc. Of course it says their arguments are ridiculous and just a pre-disposed human knee-jerk reaction and aversion to anything that might be new and therefore might invoke the dreaded “change” word.

  Images swam through my mind, images of the human form of DARIA, images of Frosty, images of the guards and of Crawford. The fool never had a chance, he had been up against such superior forces there never was any contest at all. What did that mean, how comfortable was I to continue on working with DARIA and Frosty? In my dream state I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was completely outmatched. It is true I was no mental match for Frosty, but it was also true that I could beat Frosty silly with or without weapons. The real issue that nagged at me was that DARIA was so incredibly competent in all areas that I felt stupid and very incompetent. How the hell can you feel incompetent to an AI system? They don’t get up and walk around and have a beer or socialize with friends. Hell they don’t even know what friends are, or do they? This was stupid, we are a team. Frosty had engineered an extremely sophisticated AI combat archangel system, I was the soldier with the feet on the ground, DARIA fed me the intel and combat awareness that gave me the knowledge to be superior in combat. The combat suit and the weapons were the icing on the cake that provided me with a clearly superior edge over every military situation. Exploit the hell out of such an advantage as such things are but passing moments and likely will not last long. Least of all if Frosty has his way of selling DARIA to the Military. Best to “make hay while the sun shines” as my Dad used to say.

  I was up a
t 6:00am feeling rested and feeling I had resolved some issues that had been troubling me. Out for a 3 mile run in the cool fresh morning I was feeling pretty damn good about things and could see a future, a very promising future, which had very attractive compensation. Yes it had risks, but what the hell did not have risks these days. Besides I had access to one damn smart AI system to minimize and mitigate those risks.

  After a shower and a large breakfast I return to Frosty’s place.

  “Morning Frosty, Morning DARIA”, I greet them.

  “Morning Matt”, says DARIA. “Glad you finally made it to work.”

  I reply automatically as if addressing a human female.

  “Shush woman, I need my beauty sleep.”

  “I can see that for sure,” chuckles DARIA. “You might want to try a bit more.”

  “Morning Matt,” chuckles Frosty as he watches and listens to the interactions, while he pushes around a cart loaded with electronic devices.

  “Ok handsome, here is the story. We made good cash on the quick Crawford score and I think initially we should continue in this arena of endeavor. The operational experience works very well for refining my algorithms and my database and the more we do these ops the better I get at them. So I suggest our immediate strategy is to collect as many of these small time goons as possible and refine the technique and make some quick cash reserves. Soon enough we will start being contacted for the serious missions,” says DARIA.

  “Handsome eh, I’m so pleased that you realized D,” I grin. “Mind if I call you D?”

  “Call me whatever blows your hair back,” chuckles DARIA. “But it won’t make you any better looking!”

  “Shiny, now about your comment on the serious missions. What missions and who will be contacting us?” I inquire.

  “As we collect the small time criminals the Police, and the Police Commissioner will look very competent, in turn the Mayor looks competent; eventually the Congressman for our area will look competent too. Word will spread in certain circles and soon Government Agencies will unofficially be contacting us for a certain style of work that we are extremely proficient at. See where this all leads?” says DARIA.

  “Yup, and I am kinda fine with that. As a matter of fact I was thinking the same thing last night.” I reply. “The problem with government “Wetwork” is that you can become a victim at any time of your employer or the characters you are sent to take care of. It is a very exposed position and to go there I believe we need to remain as anonymous and as invisible as possible. And yet be as closely connected to the appropriate government bureau as possible that uses us so we know when the wind shifts, so to speak.”

  Frosty says, “At this point the government knows nothing about us other than a convoluted way through the Internet to contact us. But I agree with you, we need to leave plenty of booby-traps and trip wires behind us so that we have plenty of warning if the government decides to finger us and use us as bait.”

  “The sisters and I are pretty tight and embedded in the government computer systems and as such I’m sure we will have sufficient warning to further disappear and relocate.” says DARIA. “Until that danger presents itself we should proceed with vigor.”

  “Winston Churchill I believe, if memory serves,” I comment.

  “Absolutely correct,” says DARIA. “You know maybe I underestimated you.”

  “Told you,” grins Frosty.

  “Don’t forget the handsome part, I like that part,” I chuckle.

  Chapter 11: The Collections

  DARIA was correct, we made a lot of money quickly collecting small time criminals that had jumped bail and were in semi-hiding. Drug dealers were the common types, then enforcers from gangs that extorted money from private business for non-existent protection. The work was pretty easy and similar to rounding up Crawford. After six months of collections of the “low hanging fruit” the criminals became more and more sophisticated and more and more reluctant to be captured. But we had amassed a very sizable financial stash.

  The Russian mobsters were the first instance of fighting a cornered rat. I had picked off a couple of the gang members for extortion and was now hunting the local mob head honcho. I found them without too much trouble, well DARIA found them actually, by intercepting cell phone calls and backtracking the locations of the calls. A very upscale neighborhood with gates, long driveways, manicured lawns, lots of security, and mansions, very nice mansions.

  Drone observation and cell phone activity informed us that the head honcho, Bogdan, and his lieutenant were currently in residence. It was time to make the collection.

  “I think we should be as quiet and tidy as possible,” I observe.

  “I concur,” says DARIA. “This is not a warehouse situation and as such stealth and sophistication are the orders of the day. The grounds guards should not have any idea of what has transpired inside the mansion.”

  “How much can your drones lift?”

  “I can easily carry you onto the roof of the mansion if that was your thoughts. And carry the Russian mobsters back out. One at a time though.”

  “I like it, set me on the roof or one of the top balconies, override the security system, in I go, tranq the perps, and load them one at a time into the drone harness to haul them over to the Police building.”

  “The plan is clean, quick and quiet. Let’s hit them at dark tonight.” says DARIA.

  Chapter 12: Russian Mob

  The human psychology is the one variable that can never be completely quantified and predicted. How is a specific individual going to act under a specific stimulus? It all depends on the individual upbringing, his persona, his character, his memories, and his surroundings. Without a complete psych profile you never really know, do you?

  Its dark, no moon, light breeze, just enough to rattle the trees and rustle the leaves. Wearing the combat suit and helmet I climb into the drone harness and click the carbineers connecting me to the drone.

  “Ready here D,” I confirm.

  “Please fasten your seat belts and place your tables in the upright position,” chuckles DARIA.

  The whine of the drone propellers deepens and I am lifted aloft quickly climbing to some 1000 feet or so. The drone moves left over the mansion property; at that altitude the guards never hear a thing. Directly over the mansion the drone descends slowly and carefully until I can stand on a small top floor balcony. I unclip from the drone and check my tranq pistol and confirm my status with DARIA.

  “All set D,” I whisper.

  “Security override in place, go ahead,” replies DARIA

  I pry back the upper and lower balcony door latches and slips quietly into the bedroom. My infrared scanners tell me the room is empty.

  “There is a guard at the end of the hallway by the double doors. Bogdan and lieutenant are in that room.” says DARIA

  “Roger that D, I see him,” I confirm.

  Commanding my combat suit to camouflage cloak to the surroundings I open the door a crack to get a line of sight on the guard. Fortunately the guard is smoking a cigarette and keying on his cell phone. I line up the tranq pistol and with a quiet “plop” fires a dart into the neck of the guard. The guard just stops keying and doesn’t move. Quietly I move into the hall and approach the heavy rich wooden double doors.

  “The perps are moving,” warns DARIA.

  I am standing at the double doors and as the Lieutenant opens the door, I shove the stun baton into his chest. The guy grunts and drops to his knees, Bogdan turns back into the room swinging the heavy door shut and smacking my arm which throws the tranq dart wide of the mark.

  “Shit,” I mutter as I leap over the dazed lieutenant and grab at Bogdan.

  The Russian is street-smart; he pulls out an evil hooked switch blade knife and falls into a street fighter crouch. We circle one another, the Russian makes a couple of jabs, I move out of reach, the Russian takes a swipe and I grab his arm at the same time slamming the heel of my right hand into the Russian’s nose. The Russia
n flops over backwards and flops on the floor in spasms.

  “Shit, piss and damnation,” I hiss.

  “You killed him,” says DARIA matter of factly. “Bogdan is dead!”

  The lieutenant is up and has a pistol in his hand and fires at me hitting me in the lower side. Then he fires again and misses when I don’t fall down. I leap at him again and punch him hard in the face. The lieutenant bounces off the floor bleeding profusely his face crushed.

  “For fuck sakes, I killed that asshole too,” I curse as I run down the hallway and through the bedroom and onto the balcony. The mansion alarms are blaring.

  “Clip in and hang on,” says DARIA.

  The drone yanks me up hard, up into the darkness, then swings around heading back the mile to the insertion point on the road. The drone, with me harnessed underneath, flies directly in through the back door of the rented moving truck. Frosty slams the door down, clunks the truck into gear and we are off and moving.

  “What the fuck was that debacle?” asks Frosty.

  “Just get us back home and we’ll dissect this mess,” says DARIA.

  Chapter 13: What Happened

  “It was a clusterfuck, pure and simple, and these things happen from time to time in any mission operations. Obviously we incorrectly predicted the reaction of the Russian mobsters. This may in part have to do with their previous experience in the Russian prison system. It is not the men’s club that the North American prison system is. As a result the Russian boys would rather die than be captured. That being said, I was at fault for the killings. The combat suit augmented my strength such that the open hand palm hit to the Bogdan’s face drove the nose cartilage up into his brain killing him. As far as the lieutenant is concerned he pissed me off by shooting me so when I hit him I meant to kill the son of a bitch. The good part is the combat suite saved my blundering ass and all I have to show for being shot is a bruise, and that’s damned impressive.” I state matter of factly.