by Mason Adgett
“Not Boldt,” said Charles. “Not Vavaka. Someone probably murdered Vavaka, right? Got rid of him somehow.”
Mike’s voice came over my cell: “Those are robots? What do you think Vavaka wants to do with all those robots?” He still waited out by the guide car.
“I don’t know,” I said, though I had various suspicions. “I’m sure none of it is civilized.” I looked at Charles. “I don’t want to leave these here. I don’t want anybody else seeing this.”
He frowned. “It’s evidence. We really shouldn’t move anything. I think we should head back to the car and wait for civilization enforcement.”
“It’s me,” I said. “I don’t want it left here. Help me.” I hooked my hands under my facsimile’s armpits and tried to lift. “Get the other end.”
Charles stepped up to grab the ankles but adopted a weird look and tried not to look directly at my exposed body. “We need to hurry then. You heard Greaves. An alarm has been triggered.”
We carried the robot me back to the conveyer and dropped it on the floor. “Let’s get India too,” I said, “then we only have to make one trip on the conveyer.”
We carried India and set her by the figure of me. I pressed the last button, the one to return to the cavern tunnel, and it started humming and moving. When it stopped though the door didn’t open. I pressed the button again and waited. Still nothing.
“Greaves,” I said, “what’s wrong with the conveyor? The door isn’t opening.”
There was no immediate answer and a moment later the disconnection symbol appeared over the CAP icon, the red exclamation point blinking over the empty bars.
“We’ve lost them,” Charles said. “We may be trapped in here.”
I pressed several of the buttons but they did nothing. A moment later, the CAP icon was restored and Greaves’ voice returned:
“A lockdown sequence was initiated by the modification alert. This included a noise dampener that I have succeeded in silencing.”
“Can you open this door?” I said.
“The conveyor has not yet reached its destination. I am attempting to restore motion.”
We waited, both of us uncomfortable with the nude robot bodies on the floor, neither of us inclined to make any remark about it. Finally we felt the conveyor shift again and a second later the door opened to the tunnel. The car was waiting just outside. Mike jumped out to help us with the bodies.
“We’ve got them,” I said. For some reason I didn’t want his hands on them. Charles and I lifted first India’s replica and then my own into the storage area in the back. It was a tight fit as the car had a small trunk.
“Those look crazy real. That looks just exactly like you. India too. What are we going to do with them? Are we taking these for evidence?” Mike said. From his anxious look I could see he was eager to get out of there. And to be honest I was more than a little frightened myself. When we had left for Vavaka’s estate my expectations had been low. I had hoped to gather information, but I had been unprepared for the scope of the evidence, the laboratories, the devices, the robots. I had been unprepared for the feel of Kantsky on everything. I was not truly convinced deep down that what we were experiencing was real. A part of me screamed that it was happening all over again, that I had been kidnapped by Kantsky and was even now attached to one of his virtual reality torture devices. Not that it mattered. What else could I do whether real or not except take each moment for what it seemed and try to deal with what was in front of me?
“Greaves, were you able to contact Lewis?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he informed me. “We have been disconnected from both the global and universe wide web protocols. The modification alert has activated a blanket silencing system in duodenary code the likes of which I have not before encountered. I am attempting to deconstruct it and restore access to outside communications but it appears there is a separate associated modification alert with consequences I have not yet simulated.”
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “We need to take what we have to civilization enforcement. Vavaka as-Tatim is clearly not what he appears to be. They’ll have to come clean up this mess, and there’s no sign he’s brought India here, at least not yet. Greaves, take us back to the city.”
We hopped back in and the car one-eightied, heading back to where the tunnel connected to the main road. But we had not quite reached that point when we were stopped by an obstruction, a huge metal plate, a security wall that had apparently dropped from the ceiling.
“It must be from the lockdown alert,” I said. “The perimeter must have automatically secured itself.”
“We’re trapped,” Mike said. Then, “What about your laser app?”
“There’s no way it will cut through that,” Charles said. Not that we could tell how thick it was exactly, but it looked far sturdier than what you’d find inside your normal cruise ship.
“Greaves,” I said, “any way you can open it?”
“I am searching for its identification parameters,” said Greaves. “However my resources are heavily consumed monitoring alert processes and terminating any other defensive initiations. The programming in this facility is excessive by far for any privately owned system and may have been reconstructed from uncivilized historical military sources.”
“Human?” I said, curious.
“All systems seem nucleic in origin but several are beyond the scope of known human historical achievement.”
“Great,” I said.
“If the designer of these systems is indeed human he is a master programmer of the highest degree and classes among first-galaxy entities. I have taken advantage of the warrant’s allowance for alternative programming methods and have begun hijacking local processor power from the estate in order to run the necessary auxiliary processes to quarantine cooperative parallel defensive systems.”
“So that’s a no on opening the door,” Charles said, his voice impatient. “How many times have I asked you to speak clearly and in common anglish?”
“My apologies. I had disabled the common speech protocol in order to save a slight amount of resources but I will reactivate it immediately.”
“Never mind,” I said. “We can wait. Allocate resources as you see necessary. Our two biggest priorities are getting reconnected to the web and getting this door open, got it?”
“I am working on both,” Greaves said.
We waited a few minutes but before Greaves could achieve either the figure of Vavaka approached us from the other side. He had apparently walked from the conveyor to the vehicle. When he came in sight he stopped, regarding us calmly from about four or five meters away.
“Is it the robot?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Greaves, didn’t you see him coming? Why didn’t you warn us?”
“I lost temporary connection to the video feeds. Additional security measures have activated that I am trying to disable. I have regained access to previous inputs.”
“I think he wants to talk to you,” Charles said, looking out at where Vavaka stood waiting.
I sighed heavily and opened the car door. I stepped out but stayed right next to the open door.
“Open this up and let us out,” I said.
“It is too late for that,” Vavaka said. “You have trespassed in every possible way.” I started to get back into the car but Vavaka raised a hand. “This tunnel is environmentally sealed and I have ventilation systems which will release a poison – not fatal, but painful and debilitating – on my command. If you do not exit the vehicle and come with me – all of you – then I will give said command and wait until you have been disabled to take you in myself.”
“You’d poison yourself, too?”
He smiled grimly. “You already know how little effect that would have.”
I didn’t answer immediately. I sat back in the car, still with the door hanging open, and turned to Charles and Mike. “You hear that?” I asked.
“Just close the door and wait it out,” Charl
es said. “The car is probably airproof.”
“It is not,” Greaves informed us. “This model of guide-taxi is not environmentally protected. It would take some time for a gaseous substance to permeate the interior but the vehicle would not fully protect you from the effects.”
“Any idea how long we would last?” I asked.
“It would depend on the strength of the poison and the percentage per volume in the air, both unknown values.”
“Can you tell if it’s a bluff? Does he have that capability?”
“There is a ventilation system that could be used for such purposes. I have not identified a protocol that would release such a poison but I cannot guarantee it does not exist.”
“If we go in there can you keep an eye on us?”
“I still maintain access to all security feeds. I will attempt to provide what assistance may be possible.”
I stepped out of the vehicle again. “Before we come with you tell me where India is.”
“I truly did not expect for you to come here,” he said, ignoring me. “You surprise me, 309.” He turned and walked back in the direction of the conveyor, clearly expecting us to follow.
I looked at Charles who just raised his eyebrows like it was a question and Mike who had a tic in the corner of his eye that told me he was terrified. “Greaves,” I said quietly, “Can you shut him down?”
“I am trying,” he said. “All analytics now indicate the entity here is biologically guvian. I have reset that conclusion and continue to widen analytic parameters. Divergent possibilities include a self-controlled artificial intelligence, a remotely controlled puppet unit, or the actual biological Vavaka as-Tatim.”
Not an AI, I thought, and definitely not the real Vavaka. I had my own suspicions and said, “It’s a puppet. There has to be a signal controlling it. Look for that.” I turned to Mike and Charles. “Well, guys. Out of the frying pan.” I stepped out of the car again and after a second’s hesitation they followed. We walked together down the tunnel back to the conveyor. It stood open, Vavaka waiting within. When we came close he said, “Give me your cells.”
Looking at him closely, you could tell he wasn’t really alive. You just had to know what to look for. Maybe my analytics were better than Greaves because I thought I could detect all kinds of little anomalies. He moved too little for one. There were no facial twitches or casual hand motions or pointless gestures. Obviously it can be hard to read a gobo if you’re human because you can’t get a sense of the eyes, where they’re looking. You can’t see their pupils under the shatia. But I had come in contact with enough gobos now to realize they were still people. They had nerves and enjoyed things and liked or didn’t like colors or flavors and worried about imperfections. Vavaka had never given any indication of any of these things. His voice lacked inflection, his face lacked expression, his body lacked life.
I didn’t give him – it – my cell. Instead I had been madly fiddling with it during our walk, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and now I had the laser app ready. I brought my hand up to my eye as though I were going to remove the LashLens, at the same time stepping closer, until the target on the app centered on Vavaka’s forehead. Then I squeezed my hand closed, activating it. A beam zapped right where I had been looking, between his eyes, and I doubt even if he had been alive he would have registered surprise. In this case there was no change in expression, just the appearance of a black spot and smoke rising in the air as Vavaka fell.
I thought for a moment I had succeeded in disabling it but it moved on the floor and tried to stand, reaching for me. I zapped it again, two more times, then tried to push it out of the conveyor. Charles and Mike helped and we were able to heave it away. I pressed one of the buttons on the conveyor and the door closed leaving Vavaka outside. The conveyor moved, opening on one of the offices we had seen in the feeds.
Greaves voice came over my cell: “I have located India Phoenix.”
“Where?” I demanded. “You’ve restored outside access?”
“India Phoenix has just arrived on the property. She appears to be unconscious. Another human has brought her. I cannot identify him without access to outside databases.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I know who it is.”
“You do?” said Mike. “Boldt is still in jail, I thought.”
“Not Boldt,” I said. “Offman.” At the same time, Greaves switched our view to a feed where we could see him pushing a medical gurney, India on it, her body covered with a white sheet. I hoped Greaves was right, that she was merely unconscious, because to me she looked frighteningly pale, far too still.
“How do we get there?” I asked Greaves. “Hurry!”
Offman. Yuli Offman. I had realized it earlier, that if Vavaka was a robot, at least one person would have to know – the only person that actually interacted with Vavaka physically, his assistant, Yuli Offman. And Offman being human – it hadn’t made sense for Vavaka to have a human assistant on Asitot. And when you dug deeper everything about Vavaka had seemed more human than gobo. His business was on Earth. He lived aboveground. He built ugly machinery with no care for how it blended into the environment. He had pretended to be gobo but had even chosen a human bride. India had connected with what she thought was a gobo, but it had been a human, Yuli Offman, who had wooed her. I didn’t know why Offman had done it but I had realized he must be the one puppeteering Vavaka as soon as I had learned Vavaka was a robot.
Greaves highlighted the location on the map, a blinking square around a room on the opposite side of the estate. “I have added both a target compass and a directional arrow to your interface,” he said as both appeared on the map. The arrow pointed to a door on the other side of the office and I rushed toward it with Charles and Mike right behind. It opened automatically. It turned to lead to us down the hall to the right and up a stairwell, again a human affectation, as gobos almost exclusively used ramps.
The only weapon I had on me was the laser on my cell but I really had no thought for how I would handle Offman when we got to him. There were three of us and he was alone and whatever advantage he might have had from his security would hopefully be nullified by the abilities of Greaves.
Through hallways, rooms, and two more conveyors, inching closer on the map. Offman was on the move too, the target on our compass shifting, but it took only a few minutes before we approached his door. A video feed showed us as he manipulated India’s body, attaching it to some sort of machine. He gave no indication that he was aware of our proximity or prepared to defend himself. I stopped us briefly right outside.
“India,” I whispered, “is my first priority. Make sure she’s all right. Get her out of there if you can.”
Mike and Charles nodded and I took a breath. The doors so far had all opened automatically, responding to proximity, and I expected this one to do the same. I waited until Offman leaned over India again, turned away from the door, and then rushed toward it. It opened but as I went through I was surprised by a hand grabbing me from the side, something suddenly pressed against my throat. I froze.
Offman was not leaning over India as he had appeared in the video. She still lay across the room but Offman had seized me from behind.
“Fool,” he said. “You think I don’t know when I’m being watched? Your digital app is cheap commercial software. You –” he waved a hand at Mike and Charles, “– stay back or I will use this on your friend.” I couldn’t see what he held against my throat but it must have appeared deadly as both moved back against the wall. It felt like cold metal, like maybe the barrel of a gun.
“Give it up, man,” said Charles, in a very reasonable tone of voice. “Civilization knows we’re here. You’re going to be caught any minute. You’re about to go down.”
“I don’t think so,” said Offman. “I really don’t think so. I’m almost done with you, and then it will only take a short time to finish your friend here.” I didn’t know what he meant at first but he pushed me forward where I could see through anot
her door into a connected closet. The space inside was dominated by a large machine, apparently a 3D printer, that was putting the final touches on the feet of a nude facsimile of Charles. He gestured for Charles and Mike to look as well, clearly enjoying their discomfort.
“You think you’re going to replace us,” I said. “With these robots? How long do you think it will take before somebody notices that? You think our friends won’t be able to tell?”
He grinned like I had told a great joke, and now I could see him for who he was. It was Kantsky’s grin, Kantsky’s crazed eyes. “My latest masterpiece,” he said. “Truly a gem. But you should know, 309. You have already experienced it. Despite your friend here interrupting the process I got everything I needed from you last time, and India too.” But a frown crossed his face, a wrinkle across his brow. “Everything except what you’ve stolen.” He jerked me around to look closer at him, into his face, only centimeters away, pressing whatever he held even harder against my throat. “You think you can take what’s not yours? What I’ve been working for? You think I’m not watching all the time, that I don’t know what kind of slime you are? I liked you, 309. I admired you. That’s why I wanted you to be a part of this. That, and… Well. But you’re scum. You’re just like the rest of human scum.”
He stopped when Charles made a motion – both of us thought he was about to attack Offman – but he didn’t and Offman relaxed.
“I don’t need you anymore,” Offman said. “I’ve already got what I want. Now though you will give me an opportunity to test my latest – what I think is my most impressive – creation. You’ve already had some experience with it I believe, though I can’t know exactly what you’ve experienced.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My nano-bot neuro-transmitters,” he said. “Once they have been perfected the robot simulacra will no longer be necessary.”
“What’s he talking about?” Charles said.
“Tell him,” said Offman, then pressed harder against my neck: “Or I could inject you with them now and make you tell him.”
