Glancing up, she noticed her antique chronocyl had run dry in her absence. She found ice and filled the glass tube, watching as it began to melt and saturate the red Hellinar sand her mother had brought back from one expedition or another. Gradually the sand began to ‘shift’, its colour deepening until the drip, drip of water from the cylinder base began to turn the mechanism below it. Belatedly, Katherine realised she had no reference to set the time to any accuracy. She set the time rings going anyway and watched as the upper of the three, the moment, clicked around the cylinder’s axis until the ‘turn’ ring clicked around. Whether the bottom ring, the ‘rotation’, was working she couldn’t be sure, it moved too slowly to judge.
Retrieving the now-overdone pasta, she strained it before tipping it into a shallow bowl. Rummaging in a cupboard for something to flavour it she settled on a sweet tomato paste and crushed peppercorns. She returned to the sofa and picked at the food, eating little before it went cold. She could count on the fingers of one hand the people who would have the knowhow to interface with HEX and none of them seemed a likely candidate for an industrial spy.
Exhausted and confused, she dragged herself from the sofa and, abandoning the bowl to a side table, went to bed. Thought blended with dream, phasing in and out of logical possibilities and the products of her overwrought imagination. Dust permeated the air as she turned over and over. It began to affect her breathing and caused her to wake, rise and fill a glass with water, which she drank and refilled. She dozed again for a while before giving in to the discomfort of a full bladder.
Awake, showered and feeling refreshed despite lingering tiredness, she made a hot drink. She picked out dark, pressed trousers to complement a plain, white cotton blouse from the few clothes she had not moved to Ayon Research. Before long she would be summoned to a formal Council meeting. She wanted to be ready but dithered, dressing slowly before realising she was only delaying the inevitable. Ayon Research was her responsibility and she had to face whatever difficulties that entailed. Resigned to the fact, she forced herself into action and, within five turns of the chronocyl, was out of the door.
*
Ayon Research was in lockdown. Security swarmed the building, drawing the attention of the public crowding by the foot of the stone steps that ran up to the entrance. Katherine had to jostle and fight her way to a cordon manned by officers in black uniforms. Fortunately, they had been briefed and quickly ushered her through. She heard the rapid fire of clicking cameras as she ducked under the thin tape separating the mayhem outside from that within the building.
Shouted questions from reporters were audible over the hubbub of the crowd. Although she didn’t answer them, it was clear that they had no idea what the situation was, only that it was serious.
The entrance hall was packed with people, some clearly security while others, clad in white overalls, were presumably forensics. In the middle of it all, talking with vigour to a small group of suited officials, stood the diminutive, bespectacled personage of Vincent O’Brien. Catching his eye, she was surprised to see him break off his conversation to walk towards her.
‘Katherine Kane,’ he said, extending his hand.
Slightly taken aback, Katherine remembered Tyler Olson’s obvious respect for his partner and took the greeting as genuine.
‘Mr O’Brien. Have you made any progress?’
‘Plenty,’ he said and ushered her towards the Cannula. He continued to talk as the elevator was summoned.
‘I have nearly thirty agents here now, including forensics and scanning technicians. We’re gathering a lot of data. We’ve got seven or eight airborne camera platforms above Skala at any one time. Three are patrolling the city’s perimeter, although I’ve got a feeling we’re too late for that to do much good.’
‘What sort of range do those platforms have? The ones we use for surveying can only fly for about fifteen turns.’
‘Longer, for the bigger ones we’re using. I’m told the next generation will be able to lift a person, which would be helpful.’
The doors parted and they entered the Cannula. O’Brien reached across to the control panel and tapped a lower button.
‘I’d like to interrogate the other IDC so it’s fortuitous you’re here. We’ve kept a guard outside the door to its ‘chamber’, is that what you call it?’
‘Yes, chamber,’ agreed Katherine, noting O’Brien was picking up the jargon. ‘But I’m not sure ROOT will take kindly to interrogation. You can’t force him to be co-operative.’
‘A poor choice of words on my part,’ said O’Brien, as if it was of little concern. ‘Let’s say interview. No one has been in or out so as far as ROOT is concerned, so nothing is amiss.’
‘He’ll know something is out of place,’ she said, without hesitation. ‘If no one has been in or out of there for a shift or more, he’ll know.’
‘So how would you approach it?’
‘Don’t pull the wool over his eyes,’ she replied cautiously. ‘He’s extremely perceptive. He knows the staff’s patterns and he’s good at interpreting human behaviour. There is some speculation he may be able to detect pheromones if someone is in close proximity to him. He plays a game with the technicians, guessing which one has entered his chamber and he’s almost always right. He cuts himself off from the CCTV most of the time to maximise processing power, so no one has figured out how he does it.’
‘So would you advocate telling him exactly what’s happened?’
‘I would give him the whole picture and see what he comes back with, yes.’
‘You don’t think we should hold something back? See how he responds?’
‘No, he’s an Intercessor, a bridge between human and machine. But make no mistake, he’s a machine himself. There is no benefit in holding back. Better to give him the whole story and allow him to process it. The more information we can give him the more we will learn.’
‘I will reiterate: I don’t know anything about these IDCs but are they not by their nature like dealing with a human? Interviewing suspects, we almost always hold some things back to maintain an advantage.’
As the elevator reached the Vault they waited for the doors to part, giving Katherine a moment to formulate a response. She found it hard to put two decades’ of research observing ROOT’s behaviour into words.
‘ROOT interacts with people much as you or I would. He has adaptive strategies. As I said, he’s a bridge and like a human he can be impulsive at times. He can also be very cryptic and avoid answering questions. In this case though, I expect he will see the situation as a challenge, a puzzle to be solved, which is something he responds to well and, in my experience, predictably.’
They walked together to the security window, where they were immediately signed in by CID personnel, a detail that was not lost on Katherine. She couldn’t shake the annoyance that her domain had been invaded.
‘I’ll take your lead on this, I’m out of my depth here,’ said O’Brien, with surprising deference.
Katherine found this an astonishing admission from someone so outwardly self-assured but she had to admit she respected how forthright he was. ‘Is there anything else useful you can tell me? Anything that might help ROOT analyse the situation better?’ she asked.
‘At the moment, no,’ said O’Brien emphatically. ‘We have collected a great deal of data but none of it has been processed and nothing obvious has come from either the CCTV or the forensics.’
Side by side they turned left and approached the door to ROOT’s chamber. O’Brien nodded to a guard, who stepped aside. As Katherine depressed the button to operate the door locks a vision of a second empty podium flooded over her. Fighting back fear as the seal depressurised, she swung the door open. Much to her relief, ROOT was sitting just where he should be, an inanimate object amid a tangled nest of cables and pipework.
‘ROOT, it’s Katherine.’
‘Hello, Katherine, who have you brought with you?’ came the creamy synthesised voice from speakers mounted
in the podium.
‘Mr O’Brien, an investigator from the Corporate Investigations Division.’
‘And does Mr O’Brien talk at all?’
‘Yes, sorry,’ said O’Brien, caught off balance. ‘Nice to make your acquaintance.’
This wasn’t an uncommon reaction. Most people took time to get to grips with communicating with a highly intelligent but totally unreadable cube.
‘And if I may ask, what is it you’re investigating?’
Katherine nodded at O’Brien, a cue for him to continue, which he readily acknowledged. ‘We’re looking into the disappearance, presumably the theft, of the other IDC that’s kept here.’
When ROOT did not respond, Katherine was moved to elaborate. ‘HEX has been stolen, quite literally without trace. Her telemetry doesn’t show any event that might indicate when she was taken.’ She paused just a moment to consider the implication of her next words. ‘In fact it’s still running as if she were present.’
‘And what would you conclude from that, Katherine?’
She looked at the floor, her brow furrowed in concentration. ‘There is clearly some sort of recorded data being streamed into her telemetry feed.’
‘And have you found the source?’ asked ROOT, silkily.
‘We’re working on that,’ replied O’Brien. ‘But we’ve not found it yet.’
‘And I assume from your perplexity that you do not know how HEX exited her chamber?’
‘No, at the moment we’ve no idea. We only know she was stolen,’ stated O’Brien.
‘That is a matter of opinion,’ said ROOT, with a trace of irritation.
Even Katherine, who was used to ROOT’s games, found this a particularly odd statement. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘HEX can hardly have walked out herself.’
‘The answer is obvious, is it not, Katherine? Given the nature of her disappearance I think it is far more likely that HEX has abducted whoever moved her, not the other way around.’
‘Forgive me, but how can you possibly draw that conclusion?’ asked Katherine in astonishment.
‘And how long has it been since HEX was taken?’ asked ROOT, avoiding a direct answer. ‘I imagine it’s more than a few rotations, a shift or more, since you made the discovery and therefore more since her actual departure. I can’t imagine even Privy Councillor Kane rushing in to consult me without at least a degree of background work beforehand. Is that not correct Katherine?’
‘Yes, that’s correct,’ Katherine confirmed, resenting the insinuation of predictability.
‘No doubt you’ve considered one of the dissident groups opposed to AI as the possible perpetrator?’
‘I have,’ Katherine confirmed.
‘But like me you would expect HEX to have turned up by now? A public display of contempt perhaps? Her chassis cracked open in front of the baying mob, wires and drives smashed in a collective euphoria?’
Katherine raised an eyebrow. Although confirming her own thoughts he seemed to actually relish the idea. No doubt he was striving to emulate what humans might regard as vindictiveness towards HEX.
‘As that is not the case, it would seem we can discount that group as being responsible.’ There was a pause before he continued. ‘Do you have any other ideas?’
‘Someone is holding her hostage?’ suggested O’Brien, who had clearly been thinking through options from the outset. ‘Corporate sabotage is another distinct possibility.’
‘If this were a hostage situation a demand for a ransom would have already been forthcoming, don’t you think?’
‘Probably,’ O’Brien agreed.
‘Corporate sabotage, industrial espionage would seem more likely. But I expect you know that already?’
O’Brien nodded, then, after a nudge from Katherine, vocalised the gesture. ‘Yes, that’s my area of interest.’
‘I bet it is,’ said ROOT, with a trace of malice. ‘I’m sure you know as well as I do that for anything to be removed from the Vault without trace, the Vault’s staff must have been compromised.’
‘I think that’s a given, yes.’
‘And that implicates Councillor Kane along with the rest. Forgive me, Katherine.’ Her look said she grudgingly took his point. ‘But you have her here with you, consulting me. That suggests you trust her, a trust I would say that is very well placed.’
‘Thank you ROOT,’ she said, not entirely sincerely.
‘You have detained the other staff? Questioned them?’
‘There are a few non-permanent people, customers if you like, we still need to talk to. All of the permanent staff are accounted for,’ O’Brien confirmed.
‘Some must, of course, remain down here to babysit me. I’m sorry to be a burden to you, Mr O’Brien,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Would it not stand to reason that HEX herself is the main perpetrator here? She would after all be able to set off alarms and fire suppression systems in the event of a threat, just as I can. If she has disappeared without trace I assume none of that happened?’
‘No it didn’t,’ confirmed O’Brien. ‘That happened later, after the discovery.’
‘Level with me, investigator, what are you thinking? Not who, but why the elaborate trick?’
ROOT had cut quickly to the hearts of O’Brien’s concerns. How it had been done was crucially important and might give them a clue as to who was responsible, not least who among the Vault staff might have been involved. His assessment was forthright, which quietly impressed Katherine.
‘Whoever is responsible needed to buy time. A lot of time to clear the city before we could start looking. I think it’s very likely HEX is no longer in Skala at all.’
‘Very good, Mr O’Brien,’ ROOT said, with apparent admiration. ‘I strongly suspect that HEX herself is complicit in whatever arrangements have been made for her.’
‘What makes you think that?’ asked Katherine.
‘Let’s just call it a hunch.’
‘Let’s not.’ O’Brien was quickly becoming annoyed and Katherine could hardly blame him. ‘If you know something, or guess something, we would appreciate your view.’
ROOT’s tone changed suddenly to sharp and admonishing. ‘Recovering HEX is hardly in my interests Mr O’Brien. We share a unique form of mutual animosity you see. If you require her return you will have to facilitate that yourself.’
There was a stand-off lasting a few moments in which Katherine considered appealing to ROOT but wrote it off as a lost cause. ROOT’s synthesised voice began again, reassuming its cordial tone.
‘May I suggest, in the circumstances, that you organise a recovery mission to be ready when further information becomes available.’
‘What sort of recovery mission?’ This suggestion made more sense to Katherine than his reference to a hunch, an allusion she didn’t believe for a moment. IDCs did not have hunches, though ROOT persisted with the pretence.
‘In the context of my ‘hunch’, HEX will be travelling a long way from here, probably deep into Ayon.’
‘Why Ayon?’ asked O’Brien pointedly.
ROOT ignored him. ‘There is little point sending something of equivalent speed to the vehicle in which HEX is travelling. You will need to cover the distance faster if you are to recover her.’
‘That stands to reason I suppose,’ Katherine admitted, trying to assemble a picture of what might have happened in her mind’s eye. ‘We don’t know how HEX has been transported. Or even if she has, but I take your point.’
‘I agree with Mr O’Brien that she is travelling,’ he said, emphasising ‘is’. ‘I suggest you plan accordingly. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to hibernate for a while. Do let me know if anything further comes to light, won’t you, Katherine?’
With that, the audience was over and Katherine and O’Brien made their way out into the corridor. Both wondered for a moment whether they felt more confused than when they had entered. Independently, and for different reasons, both concluded they probably were.
006: T24
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br /> Hellinar Research Facility, Western District, Skala City
‘Miss Tudor,’ said JT Gilbert as her call was put through to him.
‘Mr Gilbert,’ she replied in a formal tone. ‘I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you.’
JT thought this was amusing given that after more than five working shifts of pressing them he had still heard nothing useful from the T7 facility. ‘No problem,’ he replied. ‘What can you tell me?’
‘I didn’t find your Unit exactly, but I may have turned up something of interest,’ she said. ‘There was no Unit in the yard, which I know is what you expected given it’s already tripped the tag out. But there are three sets of tracks that merge into one, starting from a far corner. Each set of tracks has the same pattern, a series of arrow-like grooves.’
‘Sounds like a group of desert vehicles,’ JT agreed.
‘The tracks lead out past security. I followed them as far as I could but they almost disappear as soon as the yard meets the road. It looks as if the Unit turned south then west, towards the slums.’
‘The slums? That’s odd. Normally anyone heading into the desert would head south through the city to avoid the slums, wouldn’t they?’
‘That’s usual practice,’ she said.
‘Thank you very much, Miss Tudor,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘That’s a great help.’
‘There is one other thing,’ she continued. ‘This may be of no relevance but it’s so peculiar I thought I would mention it.’
‘Go on,’ said JT curiously.
‘A few shifts ago we received a transponder, apparently in error. One of my colleagues has been trying to sort out the paperwork to return it; however, the manufacturer is adamant it was ordered by us. It wasn’t. The box has been sitting in this office for the last few shifts. I hadn’t noticed until just now that it’s been opened.’
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