by Corey Ostman
Yvette gestured away the novels and her communications project bubbled up on her console. When they’d left Elysium, she had begun work on establishing a voice interface with Mazz. It was a project that Hobbs had suggested. She liked Hobbs, even though he seldom let her touch anything in the engine room. He realized she was curious and helped her find things to explore.
And it’s more interesting than any of the books.
She opened the project and looked at the comm credentials. Mazz had three redundant comm networks. One was for inside the Scout. She had got that working right away—it wasn’t much different from connecting her ptenda or using the ship’s mics to communicate. The second was for the surface network that all twofers used when not aboard ship. On Mazz, this was faulty, which was why Mazz had not left during the twofer exodus. Yvette had partly rebuilt it during their trip, but it wasn’t working right now. The surface network was giving her an ugly, flashing red blip. Boo, no contact.
Yvette fingered the third credential, a low-level debug circuit from Mazz’s early days. She hadn’t really messed with it yet. She selected the credential and was met by the same angry blip.
This display, however, had many adjustable parameters. She was used to a comm panel’s frequency selector, but Mazz’s debug comm actually offered different bands, everything from radio to ultraviolet. It was defaulted to radio, so she fingered the panel and attempted to open a connection with Mazz.
A red blip. Nope.
There was a frequency selector, too, so she programmed it for a slow sweep across the radio bands. Nothing. She tried microwave, but she suspected they wouldn’t penetrate the geyser walls, and they didn’t. Yvette then marched through infrared, visible light, and ultraviolet, taking notes as she went. Nothing worked.
Yvette was staring at the display, wondering if she should go to sleep after all, when she noticed a small red arrow beside the command control. She tapped it. To her surprise, it cycled the line between electromagnetic and acoustic. Below the acoustic selection she noticed infrasound.
The band started at ten hertz. The ship’s audio beacon was the default resonator. She would be sharing her transmission with the crash beacon, modulating the locator at very low frequencies. Yvette couldn’t wait to try it. Would it go through solid rock?
The red blip took a moment to appear, but Yvette didn’t let it bother her. She understood the physics: the lower the frequency, the longer the communication would take. She decided to lower the band and attempt a connection at one hertz.
This time, the comm blip went gray, and stayed that way for nearly ten seconds before becoming red.
Ok, a tenth of a hertz.
She fingered the display and watched the blip. A minute passed and still it remained gray. Two minutes, then—
Yellow!
Yellow meant live audio and video were out of the question, but she could have brief data communications with Mazz, modulated over the audio beacon.
HI, she entered. Her two character message would take some five minutes to transmit.
She waited, watching the chronometer on her console. Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed. The blip still glowed yellow.
She was about to give up and read a novel when a message arrived: YVETTE?
Mazz!
She transmitted OK? and in just under three minutes received back a single number: 1.
One must mean yes.
She was thinking about a response when another message arrived from Mazz: a memory storage address. The address took her inside the Archdale historical mesh to an old message. She opened it. Why does Mazz want me to read it now?
Richie,
I’m sorry I had to say goodbye remotely. Dome Authority had originally given us three days. They cut it down to one. I cannot linger. Gusev will destroy my twofers if I stay.
We’re departing rim port now. I’m leaving the only copy of my archive behind for your safekeeping. And this picture—I had one of the port hands take an image a few minutes ago. Something of me to remember.
Take care of yourself, Richie.
Grandpa
Yvette reread the letter and sat back in her chair. She had heard many stories of her great-grandfather Archie, most centered on his exploration of Mars. Some on his quest to create microscopic machines. Never was there anything about twofers other than Mazz—let alone twofers a dome would want to destroy.
Yvette leaned forward and tapped the node address for the image. The fractal compression took a moment to render the picture. It was an image of her great-grandfather and Mazz.
Her great-grandfather looked the same as every other picture she’d seen: big smile behind a big beard. Mazz looked the same, too. Has he never been polished? The camera angle was low, almost like a child had captured the picture. Archie was behind Mazz with one hand on each shoulder, like he was pushing the robot into the camera.
Why show me this, Mazz?
She read the letter again. I’m leaving the only copy of my archive behind for your safekeeping, it said. But she knew her father had never found the Essex archive. He’d mentioned it in frustration many times. Yvette tapped the screen, but there was no node linking an archive attached to this message.
She fingered the console and sent a message to Mazz: ARCHIVE?
Yvette shivered as she waited. She was excited. What if she found the archive? What was in it? She would get to look at it first! And Poppy would be happy. Please, Mazz. Send me another memory location.
Yvette was surprised when she got a text-only reply.
ME.
It suddenly made sense.
Yvette slapped the table and giggled. She stared at the image on her display, at Mazz. She remembered Hobbs complaining to Poppy about Mazz’s head-cage. We should fit him with a proper head, Hobbs had said. He’s barely using any of the space. Most of it is redundant storage.
She switched off the console and touched the comm panel.
“Captain Wragg?”
There was a touch of static, and then a familiar grumbling sound.
“Yvette? What time is it—I told you to go to sleep.”
“I know—but is there a way to reach Poppy? Mazz is the secret archive!”
Chapter 37
Euler had not moved. She stared at Grace, her brows raised in impatience, exuding the same commanding presence.
“Quint Brown,” Euler said at last, “arrived at Essex City two days before you. He was in need of repair, and we obliged him.”
“We also repaired Quint once,” said Grace. “We trusted him, as you do now, and he betrayed us.”
“Protector, you are insinuating from your experience that Quint means us harm. Quite the opposite. It was he who alerted us to the ruinous plans of Robert Crusp,” Euler said.
Grace exchanged a disbelieving glance with Richard and Anna, who stood nearby. A robot was going to execute someone on a stranger’s word, with circumstantial evidence? Even Grace’s ptenda could calculate evidentiary probabilities.
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” Anna said. “Quint murdered two men, and wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of us. He hates robo…I mean, people like you. What makes you think he would want to help you?”
“You should listen to Anna,” said Richard. “He hated my Mazz. Treated him like scrap.” He put a hand on Mazz’s shoulder. “He also stole and nearly wrecked my ship with my daughter aboard.”
“Quint Brown has done us no harm,” Euler said.
“Listen to my friends, Euler,” said Grace. “I know nothing of Robert Crusp—but knowing Quint, I’d have to assume he’s using Crusp as a diversion.”
Euler smiled. “Are you now judge, jury, and executioner?”
Grace smirked. “Yes. As well as a witness,” she said. “I’m qualified, Euler—no offence. And I’ve gathered my evidence over several weeks. How about you?”
Euler paused, seeming to incorporate Grace’s points before proceeding.
“As much as I value this discussion,” Euler said, �
��I hasten to point out that you are nearly as guilty as Robert Crusp. He would have destroyed our city by taking away our thorium. You have been here a short time, yet your cavalier use of weaponry could have injured our citizens.”
“Hardly cavalier after years of training.”
“And were you trained on Mars? No,” said Euler. She folded her arms. “Nor do you differ from Crusp in other respects. You refer to Mazz—to all of us—as it. To you, twofers are nothing but drudges. A mockery of humanity.”
Grace shifted uncomfortably. “I—”
“And what of The Tim? Are you keeping The Tim prisoner?”
“I’m no prisoner,” Tim said. “Nor does Grace treat me as anything but a sentient equal.”
“The fact remains that Robert Crusp was planning to steal our thorium,” said Euler stubbornly.
Grace could feel the heat of frustration rise like a rash on her neck. Diplomacy was not her forte, nor was she a lawyer, and the things Marty could do, for now, seemed too straightforward for this rodeo.
When no one spoke, Euler took a breath, sighed, and placed her fingers to her lips. The twofer captain’s eyes darted to Raj, who still held the cube of pawns.
“We haven’t heard your opinion, Doctor Chanho.”
Raj flinched.
“Doctor,” Euler said. “The Tim values your opinion.”
“Well, I’ll tell it as I see it, Euler,” said Raj. “I don’t know about this Robert Crusp or what he tried to do with your thorium, but Quint is a sociopath, plain and simple. I believe this is partly the result of unregulated gene therapy, though his political opinions were there already.”
Euler nodded. “He mentioned the therapy.”
“Then think about it,” said Raj. “I can’t give you a legal opinion, but I can give you a medical one. His paranoia and sociopathic tendencies are real. I saw them.”
Euler was silent a moment, her gaze wandering the floor.
“Very well,” she said, turning to Grace. “Protector Donner, we will defer action on Robert Crusp.”
Grace bit her lip. Her grip on Marty relaxed.
“Crusp is in my custody, then?” she asked.
“No, Protector,” Euler said. “Crusp was caught in the act of tampering with our thorium supply. He will face justice here.”
“But—”
“The deferment is on our terms,” said Euler, her face stern. “It will wait until we have evolved our surface brethren. They’ll awaken with free will, and we will use their combined reasoning to decide this case.”
“Evolved?” Raj asked.
“How long will that be?” said Grace.
“Thirty minutes.”
“Thirty!” Richard exclaimed.
“You’re going to upgrade all of the robots on Mars? How?” Anna asked.
“Thorium,” said Euler. “And it will constitute a massive usage of our thorium reserves. So you see, Protector, why we are concerned that they remain secure.”
“Yes.” Grace felt drained. Too long on an adrenaline high. She decided to sit on one of the seats on the stage. She ran a hand along the cushion—it was purple—and slid back into the chair. It was surprisingly comfortable. She crossed her legs and rested her arms on her lap. The look of horror on Raj’s face was priceless. Euler didn’t seem to care.
In the silence, Richard edged forward.
“Euler,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean to intrude with personal matters, but—were Quint and Crusp the only people here? The only humans, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“And…my grandfather? Archie Archdale?” Richard shifted from one foot to the other, nervously. For all his eagerness to get here, he was afraid of finding out what happened, Grace realized.
“He died,” said Euler.
“Oh.”
The stern angles in Euler’s face relaxed. “But we celebrate him. He is part of us.” She smiled. “He taught me many skills. He fashioned me a body, and rescued me from the drudgery of the ship.”
There were murmurs of agreement and approval from the audience.
Richard took a staggering step forward. “What happened? Was he sick? Did you—?”
“His body failed four years after we crashed here. We buried him in the center of Essex City,” Euler said.
“I would like to see his grave,” said Richard.
“Once our first evolution is complete…”
Grace didn’t hear what Euler said after that. Crusp had shuffled from Raj to Grace’s chair. He leaned over and spoke, his eyes large with fear.
“When their upgrade is done, what do you think they’re gonna do with me? They’ll kill me, that’s what they’ll do,” Crusp said. “Take me with you, Protector. I don’t wanna stay here,” he glanced around the room, “with these twofers.”
At the sound of Crusp’s whisper, Euler turned from Richard.
“The Protector has no say in this matter, Prisoner. You will stay here. When we locate Quint Brown, we will integrate the data and assess.”
Grace noticed that Euler’s voice had changed when speaking to Crusp. It was more direct, more matter-of-fact. When she’d spoken to Richard, it had warmed to friendliness. Grace had expected Essex City to be populated with laconic twofers like Mazz. Instead, she saw great subtlety in Euler.
“I can help you with Quint,” Crusp said. “I know what he’s planning.”
“What is he planning?” Grace asked. She expected Crusp to say something, but he paused. Was he waiting for an offer? Oh no you don’t.
“What is it!” Grace said again, increasing the volume and adding a touch of tell me now or I’ll shoot you myself.
Crusp swallowed. “He’s interested,” he said, “in the bacteria.”
“Bacteria?”
Crusp glanced at the cube in Raj’s hands. “The pawns.”
Grace turned to Euler, her eyebrows raised.
Euler shook her head. “He did have contact with the pawns, but only as an injection. To help his gene therapy progress. He was in much pain.”
“Is there some way he could have used that?” Anna asked.
“They were programmed specifically for their task,” said Euler. “Our pawns will only serve us. He would need an implant to modify them.”
“I can’t imagine that, considering he’s anti-tech,” said Raj.
“He used a ptenda. How strict could he be?” noted Grace. She turned to Crusp. “Why was Quint interested in the pawns?”
Crusp frowned. “What protection can you give me?”
“Look—” began Grace.
“Protector Donner can offer no protection,” said Euler. “Nor will I.”
“Then you’re getting nothing from me!” said Crusp.
Great, Grace thought.
“We do not need to,” said Euler disdainfully. “I will poll the citizens for further insight. Memories. We will cast the net wide.”
“What will that do?” Grace asked, but Euler was already facing the audience. Grace stood, tucking Marty into her suit, and walked nearer to the twofer captain. Euler’s face had assumed a trancelike mask.
She looked out at the audience. They mirrored Euler’s expression. The room fell nearly silent. Grace could hear human murmurs behind her and raspy breathing from Crusp. Far off were unidentifiable metallic sounds.
Euler slowly waved her hands. The audience matched her movements. Grace wondered if this was necessary for memory access, or some sort of twofer ritual.
The metallic sound again. Only closer.
“Did you hear that?” whispered Anna.
“Part of the memory retrieval?” Grace asked.
“No,” said Tim. “But something is—”
The doors closed.
Euler dropped her arms and her eyes opened wide. She turned to the right, then to the left.
“I do not understand,” Euler said.
“What happened?” Grace asked. She looked at Tim.
“I don’t know,” said Tim. “There was a strange energy loss�
��”
“We did not close the doors,” said Euler. She paused. “A bank of power flow regulators has shut down and we’re attempting to restart. But—”
The lights went out. A few emergency lamps flickered on.
“Liars!” Crusp shouted, his voice filled with panic. “Next you’ll say we accidentally killed ourselves! It’s a twofer double-cross!” He backed away from the chairs, then turned and lunged forward, striking Raj as he blindly raced toward the stairs.
“Wipe all the twofers off the face of Mars!” he screamed.
Raj fell backwards from the force of the blow. Instinctively, his left hand whipped out to break his fall, forgetting the container full of deadly, purple fog. The cube met the ground on one of its corners, exploding into shards in an atonal chime.
“Raj! Your helmet!” Grace cried.
The purple swarm erupted into the air.
Raj unsnapped the helmet from his belt and dove his head into it. He secured the helmet with a click. Purple clouds rolled over him, then arrowed to Crusp.
Crusp had no helmet. He fell to the floor, his body rolling off the stage. He screamed and waved his bound wrists wildly. Each frenzied sweep of his clasped hands created a little vortex as the purple cloud spun and regrouped.
“Tim! Raj! What can we do?” Grace asked, her hands balled into fists.
“I am sorry, Protector Donner,” Euler said. “There is nothing we can do. They are programmed for Robert Crusp, and they have him.”
The cloud continued to expand. In the clean air, Grace could smell it: pineapple and sweet ozone. Richard and Anna snapped on their helmets.
Her ears rang with Crusp’s screaming. He kicked his heels against the smooth floor. The purple cloud entered his nose and mouth with each inhale, was expelled with each exhale. Grace wondered how long it would take. She had expected his skin to slough from his skull. Yet he wasn’t dissolving. A look of surprise washed across his face, mirroring her own.
“This should not be happening,” Euler said.
The cloud moved away from Crusp. It headed toward a wall, disappearing through it. The smell dissipated.
