All Fall Down (30 page)

           
“They're docking now. You can move the ship. Can you tell me what happened?”

           
“I can't. There are what you may call fingerprints in the ship's subconscious routines. They're not hidden. Something accessed the ship and used stored imagery and the ship's own avatar programmes to talk with you. It stepped out of the holo cube by signalling direct to your mind and the Compound X devices. But there is no incoming transmission or access code. Either our hacker is a human genius, or there is an unregistered Mind on Fall. Only an AI would be capable of hacking another Mind without leaving any trace of how it got in. I must say, and you'll pardon me I'm sure, no AI would ever be so crude as to leave evidence that they were here. We're far, far too clever for that. But no human, I think, would be clever enough to hack a Mind.”

           
“So what do you think? Man or Mind?”

           
“I think you should talk with your colleagues. Now, we're on our way. I will need to leave you to your work now, Commander Win. This was a most instructive journey.”

           
As the ship approached the Colony's hangar entrance, the storm roared over the horizon. He looked at it through a window. Lightning flashed out of its dust and confusion, static discharges caused by friction between the sand and wind. His sensor net was sending anomalous readings as the storm moved over it. Ghost readings, scratchy, showing signs of movement in two places. He ran a diagnostic, just to be sure, but the sensors were reporting overload by lightning strikes and his diagnostics returned low confidence in the data.

           
The ship sank below ground, and the hangar bay doors closed to the surface.

           
The storm rolled over the Colony.

Kate propped Masjid against the corridor wall, walked several metres behind him, then turned back. She watched him, waiting for him to stumble. He was conscious enough to stand, but not yet aware. The anaesthetic was slowly wearing off.

           
She breathed slowly. The back of Masjid's head showed beneath his fine hair. His arm steadied him against the wall.

           
Kate thought of Masjid's last words to her before he went under. Twenty three biological specimens hidden in the Colony. And derived from alien DNA. It couldn't be true.

           
And he'd given her his access codes and voice patterns. These things were not given lightly. She knew he had given it as a key, but was it to unlock his files or a passage to the specimens? Or all of that? Doctor Currie would know that searches in any computer system would be traceable. And if this was a secret, then any access would be monitored. Would he put her in that position? No, she decided. It would give her away before she could stop... What?

           
So that left the codes being used for a physical lock. A door. Excitement gripped Kate's body. She'd decoded the message. “Fall. Human hybrid. Murder. Not human DNA. Help.” Twenty three hidden alien-human hybrids beneath the Colony. She was overwhelmed. The mission had become ridiculously complicated at their last consequence map update. Now it was... If this got out, society would collapse. There was a great secret on Fall. Her excitement grew, and with it grew anxiety. Time was running out.

           
Masjid started to wobble. Kate walked towards him, skipping the last few steps so she could catch him under his armpits.

           
“Doctor. Are you OK?”

           
Masjid looked around at the voice, his eyes rolling,“Mm?”

           
“Are you OK, Doctor? You stumbled.”

           
“I'm, er.” He pulled his head back, his eyes trying to maintain a constant focus, “You're the MI agent. Leila-something.”

           
“General Leland, Doctor. You look pale. Let me help you to MedWing.”

           
“What's going on?”

           
“I just came out of that room and saw you stumble. Let's get you to MedWing, just to be on the safe side.” Kate took his arm and walked him to the nearest lift. Masjid tried to start a conversation, but trailed off after a few words, shaking his head as if annoyed by a buzzing fly.

           
Kate took sidelong glances at Masjid on the journey down to MedWing. He was a man harbouring a great many secrets. Medical advances that could regenerate an entire body. Drugs that allowed the brain to meld directly with an AI and a virtual environment. And twenty three captive human-alien hybrids. Life in the galaxy was going to be more complicated after this.

           
What were the consequences of his research? That no one would now die?

           
And what of these, she could hardly bring herself to think the word, these
alien
-human hybrids? Every line of thought she followed became crowded out by another and another. In the few minutes it took to get to MedWing, she came to the conclusion that no matter what the specifics were, two things had become inescapable: where there was alien DNA, there was an alien race. Whatever it was, wherever it was. And Fall had no ecosystem. So it meant the DNA had come from somewhere already known to someone.

           
Fall had become a lens through which humanity had become smaller. After millennia of expansion, first across Old Earth, then across the Sol system, then through the stars, humanity had become the dominant species in the galaxy, growing large and powerful. Or so it thought. It had transformed planets, giving them atmospheres, biospheres, ecospheres. It was the biggest, most successful, most powerful species it knew. But with the twenty three, all that had now to wither, shrink, become uncertain.

           
Humanity had assumed it had primacy in the galaxy.

           
And humanity’s elevation was contained here on Fall. Doctor Currie's research meant the body could be re-grown, that Death's hand could be stayed. And what of the mind? If it could engage directly with an AI, would a pattern be left after engagement? Could the AI download a human mind into its cortex? Was humanity on the brink of god-like immortality, just as it was about to learn it was only a bit-part actor in a larger play? The collision of these thoughts left Kate with an uncomfortable feeling.

           
“Well, here we are, Doctor.”

           
“Thank you for helping me. I remember that I have something to organise. Is it for you?”

           
“I'll inform Administrator Daoud that you've been taken unwell. Perhaps we'll talk again soon.”

           
A medical robot arrived. Kate explained to it how she'd found Doctor Currie, and left him in its charge. She knew it would diagnose a micro-stroke. Nothing life threatening, nothing that would pose any great danger. And no real physical damage. The treatment would not reverse the memory deletions. Watching him float into MedWing on an antigrav recliner, she wondered what had caused him to tell her about the twenty three. It was surely a betrayal of Administrator Daoud. Did she now have to face him? What would a General do? A grey sickness pinched the left side of her chest, a weight dragged down her jugular.

           
Kate returned to her quarters to freshen up, and to work out exactly how much she should tell her team.

Win's ship landed in the hangar, wobbling along its horizontal axis into its home bay. Clamps locked it into place. Cables snaked out of the wall, penetrating the disc around its nearer circumference. Robots wheeled.

           
In the hangar, technicians milled around small aircars, pulling cables, guiding vehicles in and to their bays: the surface activity that had started with the quickly fallen night, just as quickly coming to an end with the oncoming storm. He saw Sophie Argus directing some of the teams, and disappear behind a wall panel. Win threaded his way to the exit door, into the corridor beyond. The corridor was silent, the business of the Colony remaining behind. Identical doors and lighting panels stretched away into the distance, describing the corridor’s curvature.

           
Win mulled over the intrusion on the ship. The visitor had offered to help him, had taken Verigua's place in moving data around. And it had mentioned something important. He'd brushed it off as one of Verigua's flamboyant remarks. He would check his recordings later, after the team meeting. And the avatar: a child with butterfly's wings. As he walked, he couldn't help but connect the image with Djembe's reports of caterpillars in the AI.

           
A robot wheeling along the corridor stopped two metres away, facing him. It made a soft electronic whine. Its vase-shaped body tipped backwards on its wheeled base: a gesture of regard. Win stopped, “Hello, little one. What can I do for you?” The automaton tipped its body forward, its head touching the floor, as if in abasement. It's markings were that of a delivery droid, entrusted to carry small personal items around the Colony. A simple robot, with enough intelligence to avoid obstacles, re-route where necessary, make some minor decisions about its cargo or delivery location. This kind of behaviour, this tipping, made no sense.

           
The automaton lifted its body a few centimetres, its head angled upward; prostrate, seeking affirmation.

           
Win went to speak, but found nothing to say. On a whim, and curious, he rummaged in his shoulder bag and pulled out a black orb, his all purpose sensor, which came to life in his hand. “Record, all bands,” he gently pitched the orb over the automaton. Then he pulled out a second, and a third orb, triangulating the first.

           
The delivery robot was still. Win took a step forward, another step. He waited a few seconds, listening, scanning the corridor: the droid watched him.

           
“What are you up to?” He took a third step. This time the automaton backed off, its body craning, its head trained on Win. He took a long, confident step. The automaton's guide lights flared red. Win tapped his wrist communicator, “Kate, are you there?” Silence. The automaton regarded him again. “Djembe?” Silence. He lifted a foot. The droid spun a quarter turn, but twisted its head to stay looking directly at him.

           
“Do you want me to follow?”

           
The automaton completed its turn and trundled away, swallowed by the corridor's curving verisimilitude. Almost immediately, a technician came up behind Win, “'Scuse, Sir, need to move these chests through.” Win glanced, nodded, moved to the side of the corridor. He gathered up his sensors, wondering what had just happened.

Djembe and Win were talking when Kate arrived in the level four mess area. A young man sat with them, eyes wide. Kate picked up a drink and moved into the sound bubble.

           
“Gentlemen.”

           
Win looked up, “Kate, this is Kiran ha'Doek. He was the pilot who took me up to launch the probes. Djembe and I were telling him about some of the worlds we've visited.”

           
“Ma'am, nice to meet you,” Kiran half rose.

           
“A pilot?”

           
“Yes, Ma'am. Don't know much about flying out there, in the Settled Quarters, but it's sure fun here. Weird gravity gradients and everywhere's just dust and meteoroids. Kinda keeps you on your toes.”

           
Kate sipped her drink. She was glad of the distraction for the moment. It would keep their mission update brief and to the point. She could see weariness on everyone’s faces. “What do you do for fun in this Colony, Kiran?”

           
Kiran shrugged, “Normal stuff, I suppose. Sports, real and immersive. Music. There's a few bands. Don't know how we compare to the music out in the busy places, but I like it. Mostly old-fashioned stuff, I guess. Folksome. A few people here like to re-create old battles, or go hiking in the holo suites.”