Authors: Kelly Mitchell
Tags: #scifi, #artificial intelligence, #science fiction, #cyberpunk, #science fiction and fantasy, #science fiction book, #scifi bestsellers, #nanopunk, #science fiction bestsellers, #scifi new release
Most mission objectives did not call for
heavy destruction or mass chaos, anyway. These days, battles were
surgical, and fast. Well-planned, rapid execution strikes with a
definite objective. No payoff in fighting to measure dicks today.
With so much firepower around, it meant nothing.
He had many available nano-weapons, most
with ghastly effects. He preferred not to use them. They lacked
subtlety. The binding and disorienting types he liked, except that
the disorienting weaponry tended to have universal effects,
disorienting both sides, unless anti-measures were taken.
But, really, things happened too fast to
plan and train in these things, at least as a team. He could do
isolate training, with Trident, and be very effective. But if he
needed to do squad work, he usually opted for situational
disbalancing. Just shake it up and keep shaking until the
opportunity opens. Plan, of course, but plans always fell apart in
battle, always. Train to invent tactic on-the-spot to attain
objectives. Then when the plan fell apart, move into the next phase
by dynamically reconfiguring the tactics. Perpetually alter them.
When the enemy catches on, another mode of attack is already
underway.
Juniper and :3: had developed some heavy
q-tek called pin-slotted interface, a direct to brain link. Despite
the dangers of q-tek, the Sergeant wanted to try it. The advantages
were too great to pass up. It was also far less invasive than the
nerve jockeys. One array pin, easily separated from the implant. A
kill-switch. The old Sergeant had one put in, just before he died.
It had not been useful before the mission. Perhaps it would have
saved his life. Or, perhaps, it was the reason he died.
The q-link related to the brain through
probabilities, and had a highly intuitive approach. It worked by
feedback, constantly improving performance. Synchronizing him and
Trident more and more. He would be able to say what he thought
about something. Trident would register thought patterns against
what was said, and understand the patterns better as time passed.
He would have to be very honest and exact about his thoughts to
prevent skewing, which could be highly dangerous.
He could almost unify himself and
Trident.
It didn’t matter, though. Even without it,
he was still the baddest kid on the block. He asked the General why
they had taken down Juniper before the interface was put in
place.
“It was time. We will still obtain this
technology. There is already something better, I think.”
The General, by contrast, was tek-free. He
said that tek use created a subtle bias toward tek, which
interfered with proper policy. He did not wish to depend on it. He
was happy the Sergeant had it, however. He called the General.
“The Benefactor is in serious play. Karl got
a call from a Manufactured with a falsified signature as
Seeker.”
“You are certain of this?” the General
asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“q-tek activity went crazy
when the phone rang. Passive sensor picked it up. Only a q-phone
link to Mansworld
would do that. My
eyepiece can read M-E signatures and Trident can evaluate. They are
tough to duplicate, if you have a uniquing cross link register with
the Mans. We have that with Seeker, and it wasn’t him. Good
imitation, I must say.”
“Can you contact Karl?”
“Deep compromise to attempt it. She is on
him with high teams. Too much for me to move on fast.”
“How long would be required?”
“24 hours surveillance. I need to see their
teams doing their thing. I could move in in 24, I think. I would
rather wait 48. Work the plan. She tried to kill him, apparently,
but then Martha seemed to take the body back. Martha lost it again
and she changed her mind.”
“She made no attempt to kill him, Sergeant.
It was a show. Or a test. Probablement les deux.”
“A show?”
“Oui, pour toi. She wants that we think she
blocks the transferring. Or that we ‘see’ that she cannot kill
Karl. Or something else.”
“And a test?”
“Of Martha. To verify her base policy
thrust: protecting Karl.”
“Why?”
“Martha is within her psyche. She is in
control, but to share a body with another, well, it is dangerous.
She requires to understand what power Martha has. She is very
cunning, this Benefactor. I want that you prepare for operations in
24 hours, but wait for clearance from myself.”
“Mission goals?”
“I wish to establish control over Karl
without them knowing we have contacted ’im. We also need to know
their plans, especially regarding the transfer.”
“Not possible. Not in 24. You know how good
they are at perimeter containment and coms. She created
Trident.”
“I thought you might say this. What is your
recommendation?”
“You are 100% sure she does not want him
dead?”
“He would be dead already.”
“Not if she needs him alive for a time.
Maybe she needs information. Maybe she wants to reprogram him to do
something inside under a coded suggestion that leads to his death.
God, who knows?”
“C’est possible, but for now, all I want is
that l’Innocent cross these barrier of information. Proceed with
assuming that she keeps Karl alive. He is too important to kill, at
this point, even for her. She does not wish to close off the many
possibilities he holds.”
“All right, then,” the Sergeant said.
“Recommend waiting and letting it happen. Unless you think she
plans to block the transfer, and use him for something else
entirely.”
“Have you the ability to ascertain her plans
through other means?”
“No, way. Her info-def is top-tier. Better
than ours.”
“Even with our being in possession of
Juniper’s espace?”
“Hmm, Trident? Thoughts on that idea?”
“Yes. I estimate a better than 85%
probability that she is allied with Dartagnan.”
“Makes sense. That was the M-E call that
looked like Seeker. That would virtually eliminate our chances of
hacking. Let’s play the conversation back for you.”
“Pardon-moi, Sergeant, but can you trust the
recording? Could she have put in place a version disguised to give
us the wrong idea?”
“She would have to know we were
watching.”
“Non. She could be suspecting and plant
several trails.”
“It’s possible. The Mechanic could do that,
and he didn’t attack us. I am certain that we saw Martha emerge to
control her psyche. Karl believed it. Martha changed location. I
followed. Her security took longer than me and after they arrived,
it took them time to set up signal interference that shut down
Trident. Even then they only had blocking and basic distortion.
They didn’t have time to set up something sophisticated enough to
fool Trident.”
“I agree,” said Trident. “The coms-defense
was field-grade, not good enough to plant false data past my
surveillance capabilities. What we got was accurate.”
“Tres bien. But what did it mean?”
Silence. No ideas.
“Sergeant, why did you not take Karl and
Martha’s body when Martha had the control? Before I told you
not.”
“Too hot. I couldn’t be certain I was not
being lured, for one. The Mechanic is very dangerous in that
scenario. I would not come out on top, not if he had a plan and I
had to wing it. Also, I could tell they would not take him
prisoner. They want him free, relatively, and I know you want him
free as well. I chose to let things shift a bit through what she
did rather than a lot through something like that.”
“Oui, oui, je comprends. Bon. I am content
with your reasoning. I listened because I did not wish to interfere
with your instinctive approach. Did you see the Mechanic?”
“No. Trident?”
“I did not see him.”
“Can you keep surveillance on Karl?”
“In process. I have called one of our
surveillance operatives. He will be on post in 20 minutes. I want
to stay close, but I need to be available myself.”
“Je suis en accord. I have another mission
for you.”
Trident played back the interaction between
Karl and Martha.
“My retro-analysis, based on my
understanding of his tactics, is that the Mechanic was not there,”
the Sergeant said. “It was too sloppy for him. Way too loose.
Creative, but very volatile. She was letting it play out without a
preset agenda.”
“What is your assessment?”
“Just a gut-feeling, but I think he’s
working on something else.”
Karl was told to go to
Humans
Labs at 3am. Seeker told him the
time was a joke suggested by Dartagnan to the owner, who was :3:,
and to show up at 6, which Karl did. The building looked nothing
like a lab. It looked like a building owned by a bank, which it
was.
:3:bank, the second largest bank in the
world. :3: kept it below, by a constant tenth of a cent, the
largest, Hong Kong Trust and Worth. They had tried to shake him
off, but accounting was a fairly flat variable set to a being who
solved quantum puzzles with the processing power of a small sun.
They never stood a chance.
:3: did not care, according to Seeker. He
did it to obey the anti-monopoly law because Dartagnan told him it
would be a good joke.
“But of course, he never got the joke
himself,” Seeker said. “To quote Dartagnan.”
Karl walked through the thick glass
doors.
“Name?” said the receptionist.
“Karl.”
“Last name?” She sounded a bit testy.
“None.”
“N-u-n-n?”
“No, I don’t have a last name.”
“A rock star, huh? Smith, then.”
“Business?”
“Floor 7B, Lab 12.”
“Wow. Floor 7, and 7B, yet.” She appraised
him, winked. “You’re cute, too. Here’s your key for that elevator.
He’ll let you in through the door.” She pointed to a black man in a
blue suit, grey tie, with sunglasses and an earpiece.
He walked over.
“Name?”
“Karl Smith.”
“Business?”
“Floor 7B.”
The man stood, waiting perhaps.
“Lab 12?” Karl said.
He turned, unlocked, held open the door for
Karl, after stepping to the far side, to open it properly. Karl
stepped through.
“Have a nice day, sir.” The door-bolt
clicked shut behind him.
A single grey, solid metal door with no
handle stood at the end of a short corridor. He walked over,
examined it. It was locked, no keyhole. “Hello? Can I come in?” He
pounded on the door.
“Why?” The voice sounded like a million
pebbles falling through a thousand trees.
“Why what?”
“Mansworld
.”
Karl couldn’t tell if it was French or English. He heard
each.
“Are you :3:?”
Karl saw a red numeral 1 flash onto the wall
in front of him. “Does that mean yes? Or are you 1?”
:3:
lit the wall up.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Who?” said the pebbles.
“Her name is Martha.”
A zero, then the word “there.”
“Not there?”
Another zero.
“I know she’s not there, but my going will
help her.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where?” said the pebbles.
He didn’t want to say mansworld. He
remembered the boy Sergeant telling him about the places across the
barrier. “The Space Between.”
The door opened onto a hallway with 6
elevators. 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11 were the elevator numbers. Karl
put his key in #11, turned. Doors slid open, revealing a steel box
with Steel walls, steel ceilings, steel floor. Raised dimples lay
in the flooring. The doors closed and Karl was weightless. For a
long time. He pushed off from the floor, floated up to the ceiling.
The box slowed and he hit the floor, hard. It stopped quickly,
forcing Karl to hold onto a handle hanging from the ceiling. The
doors opened to bright light.
He bonked his nose against a plexi-glass
door, which then whispered open. The room was impossibly white,
like it didn’t exist. The walls and ceiling and floor all blended
into one another. No shadows, and no light source appeared
anywhere.
“Come in, Karl.”
“Who are you?”
“The Doctor.”
Karl walked in.
“Lay face down on the table.”
He found the table, invisibly white in the
whiteness and laid down. Someone came out, not human, moving funny.
He was rubbery. He gave Karl a shot. He got drowsy, then faded.
He woke up in the same
room. “Am I done? Is this Mansworld
?”
“No. That was the quantum implant.
Unfortunately, you have to be awake for the change. We have to do a
number of tests and gather data first.”
He rolled onto his side and sat up. There
was a thin cable going into the top of his head.
“What’s the cable for?”
“It is a q-link. For linking directly to the
brain.”
“Cool. How does it work?”
“It does many things. This application is
probably the most sophisticated yet attempted.” The Doctor sounded
proud of that. “We will take, actually, we are taking, a
holographic –time quantum map of your brain and nervous system. The
link will create a probability re-creation in Mansworld. It will
recreate you inside Seeker’s body. And obviously, vice-versa.” The
phrase sounded odd from the Doctor, as if he were sampling its use.
“Would you like to look at the schematics? Or the equation
sets?”
Perhaps he was being sarcastic or maybe
showing off. Karl didn’t care. “No, thanks. What do I need to
do?”
“Just answer some questions first.”
“Check.”
“Check?”
“Go ahead. Ask away. By the way, does :3:
speak French or English?”
“Both.”
“Both?”
“And more. :3:’s voice, when he speaks,
which is almost never, is in all languages at once. Anybody that
speaks will understand everything that :3: says. He even uses dead
languages.”