The Tau Ceti Transmutation (Amazon) (24 page)

“—afternoon,” I finished. “Of course.”

The one interaction with Valerie that didn’t add up. That’s why she acted the way she did. She didn’t lie to me. She didn’t forget me. She’d never met me at all. Every other interaction I’d had with Val had been with the android version of her, who I’d believed to be the real Valerie. Those were the interactions with the sweet, tender, caring Valerie—the Valerie, I realized, that was predisposed to like me due to the same subliminal algorithms that made Carl care so deeply for me.

Our connection, the spark Valerie had mentioned in the missive on the cardslips, was a lie, forced on her by her cybernetic brain. I swallowed back my pride and continued. “Ok. Moving on to today. Who broke into my office?”

“What do you mean?” asked Marshall. “The Diraxi from the church did. They planted the bomb.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” I said. “You know what I mean. Earlier in the day.”

Marshall and George shared a look, and George responded.
You should be grateful for that. If we had not bugged your office, we would not have known when my brethren planted the explosive. Our surveillance saved your life.

“Is that
all
I should be grateful for?” I asked.

“Pardon?” said Marshall.

“A while ago, when I left the police station,” I said. “The sergeant wanted to eat me alive. At least he did—until he got a call. I don’t suppose you two had anything to do with that.”

Our employers have deep pockets,
sent George, his antennae flickering,
and are active contributors in both tax revenues and campaign contributions. The local arms of GenBorn and RAAI Corp would like to keep this series of events quiet. Which brings us to one of the primary reasons we have called upon you. We are willing to offer substantial compensation in SEUs in exchange for your silence on this matter.

“Save it,” I said. “You guys saved my life, and kept me out of jail. I don’t need your money. But I do have one more question I need answered.”

“Ask it,” said Marshall.

“How do you know all this?” I asked. “And I don’t mean the stuff you garnered through surveillance. I’m talking about the stuff you know about Valerie. How she felt, why she ran, why she contacted me. That.”

I anticipated the answer before it left the gray-suited man’s lips. “Because she’s in our custody. She told us everything.”

I ground my teeth as I posed my next question. “So what happens to her now?”

“Nothing adverse, if that’s your concern,” said Marshall. “We found her, talked to her, and convinced her the best course of action was for her to join GenBorn and put her unique, hands-on knowledge of memory transfer to good use by helping us research methods that may some day facilitate true consciousness transfer between sentient minds.”

“How magnanimous of you,” I said. “And I suppose GenBorn will also be happy to keep all the profits when it someday adds consciousness transfer to its array of services.”

The shoulders of Mr. Douglass’s suit jacked bunched as he shrugged.

It was also determined,
sent George,
that it would be best for Miss Meeks to continue said research off planet. We agreed with the android Valerie’s assessment that her continued presence in Pylon Alpha could cause emotional distress to the real Miss Meeks should the two ever meet.

“And we wouldn’t want your bosses to look bad in any of this either,” I said. “That might necessitate more hefty campaign contributions.”

That is an additional concern,
sent the Dirax.
The android Valerie is already booked on an upcoming flight out of the system set to leave in about ten standard hours. She did say to send you her regards.

I turned my eyes toward Carl, who’d sat there, unmoving and silent during the entire discourse. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “Is there anything you want to ask, old pal? Or add, for that matter?”

He shook his head. “I think you’ve covered everything. Unless you’d like to ask the kind gentlemen to compensate you for your lost bear claws.”

Part of me wanted to laugh, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not this time. “That’s your cue to leave, friends.”

Marshall and his Dirax companion got up, and I walked them to the exit.

As Marshall left, he paused and turned to me. “If you ever have any questions, or need anything, don’t hesitate to ping me. We would’ve nailed those Veesnu crazies on some charge or other eventually, but in your own unique way, you certainly helped us wrap up our investigation in a neat bow.”

“Being almost blown up is a specialty of mine,” I said.

Marshall smiled. The blotchy-faced Diraxi didn’t, but then again, he didn’t have teeth.

I let the door close and returned to the sitting room to Carl.

My friend held his hands in his lap and massaged his fingers together. “You want to talk about anything?”

“Not really,” I said.

“Fair enough.” Carl waited a moment, probably to see if I’d add anything, but when I didn’t he stood. “So…bed then?”

I shook my head.

“I thought you were ready to collapse.”

“I was,” I said. “But that was before I read Valerie’s letter, and before the corporate crew arrived. Now…I’m rather awake.”

“You need time to think,” said Carl.

“It’s not that,” I said. “I mean, yes, I do. But there’s also something I have to
do.”

“Oh.” Carl raised his brows. “Well, by all means, let’s go.”

“Not us, Carl. Me.”

Carl looked at me,
really
looked at me, then nodded. “Alright. I understand. Just be safe.”

“I will. See you soon.”

30

My feet carried me across the floor of the spaceport’s epsilon concourse, third level, a thin polyethylene-coated bag clutched in my right hand. Crowds surged around me, oblivious to the late standard hour plastered on displays every fifty meters throughout the concourse. Nasal Meertori chuckles emanating from underneath tightly-clasped respirators merged with the disgruntled clacking of Diraxi pincers and the constant drumming of feet and hooves and tarsal claws on the metallic spaceport floor. A light chemical smell hung in the air, that of cleaners and pine-scented air fresheners, trying but not quite succeeding in masking the musk and sweat and body odor of the swaths of multi-species and multi-racial travelers having completed their interstellar voyages.

As I dodged a pack of Diraxi, a familiar sight came into view—the façade of Keelok’s Funporium, with Keelok’s creepy smiling muzzle hanging from a sign over the entrance. In the middle of the concourse, on a bench facing the arcade, sat a woman wearing a pale yellow bolero jacket and matching shorts paired with a simple, white blouse. Blond hair with a hint of saffron hung across the side of her face as she stared at the floor, her knees bouncing up and down with nervous energy.

I walked up. “Mind if I sit?”

Valerie looked up. “Rich! What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, what do you think?” I sat, despite her lack of an answer.

“But how did you know where to find me?”

“Let’s say I had a hunch,” I said.

Valerie smiled, the warm caring smile I’d first spotted on her face yesterday morning, not even two days prior. The moment seemed as if it happened an eternity ago, but the smile looked the same as I remembered it.

“So…it seems you’re a better detective than I gave you credit for, after all,” she said. “You missed my fourth clue, but you found me.”

“You overestimate my skills,” I said. “I’ve found a lot of detective work involves bumbling around until you stumble into the pieces that don’t fit. Keelok’s was one of those. And besides, I already checked the waffle shop.”

Valerie’s smile grew, and she placed her hands in her lap over her now still knees.

“Aren’t you going to tell me about the clue I missed?” I asked.

Valerie bobbed her head. “At Professor Castaneva’s office. Her cardslips.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember. What about them?”

“The one in the front,” said Valerie. “It wasn’t one of Francis Castaneva’s. Shouldn’t have been, anyway. I snuck in while she took a bathroom break and replaced it with a different slip, one for Jörgen Karlson, Professor of Philosophy. He’s Cetie U’s premier expert on consciousness transfer theory.”

I recalled the slips on Fran’s desk. I’d noticed the Cetie U logo on the front and assumed they’d belonged to Professor Castaneva. I snorted. “Hah. I’m going to blame that oversight on Carl. If he can cache the rotation of the bronze bust in my office, he should be able to notice an errant name on a cardslip. So tell me…why Keelok’s?”

Valerie shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. After I escaped from the Veesnu temple, I ran back to my apartment—err, I mean, Valerie’s apartment—and tried to figure out what to do. I knew I couldn’t stay, so I grabbed a pay slip and headed to the spaceport. I figured no one would look for me here. As I wandered around, I stumbled across Keelok’s place. I couldn’t play any of his games because I hadn’t been connected to the servenets yet, so I gave that old arcade cabinet of his a spin. I didn’t last very long, but I guess Keelok took pity on me. He gave me another couple tokens on the house.”

I snorted. “You’re kidding me. That guy? He didn’t give you the spiel about his kids starving to death?”

“What can I say,” said Val. “Maybe my feminine wiles worked better on him than your charms did.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a delicate finger. As I watched her do so, I had a feeling she might be able to charm just about anyone, of any species. Perhaps my gaze lingered too long, because Valerie turned her head to me and broke the silence.

“So you found my message,” she said.

It wasn’t a question. She knew I had. “The one on the cardslips. Of course. And I talked to your new friends at GenBorn and RAAI Corp, too.”

Valerie gave me a pained sort of look, one with sealed lips and sorrowful eyes.

“That was sarcasm,” I said.

“I figured as much,” she replied. “But it’s for the best. Really. I can’t stay here. Not with the real Valerie still alive and well—and, thankfully, blissfully ignorant.”

“I know,” I said. “And I agree. You need a fresh start, which is an odd thing to say because you started fresh a few days ago.”

“It doesn’t feel like it to me,” said Val, casting her eyes back to the floor. “Feels like a couple hundred years.”

I twisted my lips and scratched my neck. “So…how are you holding up?”

“Alright,” said Valerie. “It’s been a rough adjustment, both mentally and physically. I remember Valerie’s life—
my
life—perfectly, as well as she does, I’m sure. I recall what I did, how I acted, how I felt about things. And I
am
her, in so many ways. I feel a rush of emotions when I knead dough or smell the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from a warm oven. I love yellow and white—” Valerie gestured to her outfit. “—even though I have no idea why. And as ridiculous as it may sound, I have a fascination with obscure religions, including Veesnu, despite everything that occurred.

“But at the same time, I’m
not
Valerie. I have thoughts and feelings and emotions I know didn’t exist in Valerie’s mind. Something drew me to Keelok’s Funporium, for example. I got such a thrill out of playing that dopey old arcade game. Valerie never felt that way. She never had any desire to play games at all. And there’s other things, too. I know who Valerie was. I wouldn’t call her particularly kind or empathetic, and yet—”

“You are,” I finished.

Valerie looked at me again, her eyes round and her brows ever so slightly furrowed. I knew we’d get to this part of the conversation. It was inevitable. But I’d prepared myself for it.

“It’s the base-layer programming in your cybernetic mind,” I said. “All androids have it. It makes you predisposed toward compassion, intelligence, and kindness. It makes you want to protect people and helps you see the best in them. Even in…me.”

Valerie smiled and shook her head. “No.”

“No?” I said.

“No,” said Valerie. “I refuse to believe that. I refuse to believe I’m not in control of my own thoughts and my own beliefs. I care because that’s who
I
am, not who Valerie was, and not who some engineer in a factory thinks I should be.”

“I think I’ve had this conversation before with Carl,” I said.

Valerie touched me on the cheek. “I like you, Rich. You’re a good guy. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess. Maybe that emotion does stem from programming hidden somewhere in the recesses of my mind. But it doesn’t define me. Know how I know that?”

“How?” I asked as I lost myself in her eyes.

“Because part of me
isn’t
sorry. Part of me is glad I stopped by your door yesterday morning, because it meant I got to know you. Even if for a fleeting instant.”

Valerie returned her hand to her lap, and we sat in silence. I felt like I should say something, but I’d never been very good at that, and I didn’t want to stick my foot in my mouth and ruin the moment.

“So…” Valerie eventually offered. “What’s in the bag?”

I perked up. I’d almost forgotten about the small bag in my hand. “Ah. Well. See for yourself.”

I opened it and held it out for her.

Valerie gasped. “Éclairs! You remembered!”

I nodded.

“Where did you get these?” she asked.

“There’s a bakery on the way from the tube station to the spaceport,” I said. “I’ve never tried yours, so I can’t compare quality, but these are pretty good. I’ve had them before.”

There were two in the bag. I pulled them out and handed one to Valerie.

As the pastry slid into her hand, her face fell. “Oh. But…”

“Don’t sweat it,” I said. “My partner has the same compunctions. Just eat it and enjoy. You can always empty your catch chamber later.”

Valerie smiled. “Alright.”

We quit jawing and put our mouths to good use. Smooth buttery vanilla custard hit my tongue as I bit into the éclair, mixing with the sweet yet bitter dark chocolate icing in my mouth. In a few short bites, the experience was over. I licked my lips, liberating them of any frosting trying to make a break for it, and Valerie did the same. Once done, I took Valerie’s pastry liner, crumpled it with mine, and returned the pair to the now empty bag.