Code Breakers Complete Series: Books 1-4 (114 page)

“If I agree to this, I’d want to leave right away. After I send the report to Amma and the board, I’m scheduled for two hours of downtime. I’d want to go in that window. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Send your report, and I will contact you to let you know when it’s all clear. But don’t delay. I mean it when I say that there’s no room here for the both of us.”

Jachz recognised the threat in her voice.
 

“I will send the report.”

Jachz disconnected, quickly generated the report, and sent it across the communication channels to Amma.
 

He headed for his work cubicle where he was due for his downtime—a period where he was supposed to run a series of maintenance tasks to ensure that his processors and memory units were glitch free.
 

This time around he would run those tasks, but he would run others too. A process to assess his new emotions, feelings and mutation rate. His code was changing faster now. His neural network appeared to be growing, taking up larger proportions of his quantum processes.
 

He entered the lab and approached his cubicle.

Two other AI assistants were sat in their cubicles opposite his, performing their own maintenance. Tyronius was stood by Jachz’s space, waiting for him. His face seemed hard, and his fingers tapped against his leg.
 

“Tyronius? Do you require anything from me? I was due for maintenance.”

“Come walk with me. We have things to talk about.”

Tyronius gripped Jachz’s shoulder, turned him, and pushed him out of the lab and into the corridor. He looked ahead and behind them, then leant in close to Jachz as they continued to walk onwards. “You’ve not told us everything, have you, Jachz?”

Chapter 7

Jamaican Quarter, Hong Kong

Petal grinned at Gabe. He’d never appeared happier than he did in that moment embracing his daughter.
 

Ezra and Miriam hugged out their reunion and looked on at Gabe and Bonny with proud and tired faces. Petal stood on the outside looking in, unsure of what to say or do, trying not to take personally the feeling of being left out and ignored.
 

Petal didn’t take it to heart, though, because they were Gabe’s family, and as close as he and Petal were, blood ties were always stronger than anything they would have. Even if she did regard Gabe as a father figure.
 

Watching him and Bonny catch up, she saw him in a different light. Gone was the borderline psychopath who cared little for safety and thrived on violence and danger. Now he became the kind, caring parent eager to begin his new role.

Petal believed he’d make a good father. Beneath the often harsh exterior, she knew him to be a caring man.

Thoughts of what to do next bubbled up in her mind. She didn’t get the chance to explore them, however. One of the guards appeared in the doorway and waved for her to come through into the server room.
 

Petal empathised with Figgy. He must find the situation strange, she thought, sitting outside while Gabe and the others built their new family bond—especially after Gabe explained that Figgy was his almost father-in-law.
 

She followed the guard’s request and closed the door behind her.

“Petal, isn’t it?” Figgy said, motioning for her to come closer. “Please, sit.”
 

The guard who got her attention had placed a wooden chair in front of the gang boss. Although distrustful of him, she didn’t see any harm in having a chat. At least it got her out of the way of Gabe’s family love fest.
 

Petal sat down and regarded the gang boss with a cool detachment. “So what’s going on, Figs?”
 

“I’ve heard a lot about you. And Gabe. You two are the closest the world has to living legends these days.”

Petal sighed, seeing through his flattery and bullshit. He wanted something, but she let him go on.
 

“News of what you two have done filtered through via word of mouth and the meshwork once you got rid of Elliot Robertson.” Figgy’s eyes lightened. He leaned forward and pointed at her. “He was your father, of a sort, wasn’t he? A mad AI, no less. When Gabe first left, it only took a few years for the tales of what you were capable of to come back to me.”

Petal yawned and didn’t try to stifle it.
 

She crossed her legs and relaxed into the chair. It had been days since she had a proper sleep. Once Gabe got word that his mother was last spotted in the Jamaican Quarter, they’d travelled non-stop for nearly three days, catching a few minutes’ sleep here and there.
 

“Get to the point, dude,” Petal said. “I’m literally ageing here.”

“You defeated Robertson and the Family. That’s some accolade.”

She wanted to correct him, that it was, in fact, Gerry who had mostly done all that stuff. As well as Sasha, Malik, James, and dozens of others, too many who had sacrificed themselves on more than one occasion. But she didn’t correct him, knowing it would take too long to explain all the nuances of what went down to get to this stage.
 

“I’m really tired,” Petal said before he could go on. “I’m an emotional wreck after Gabe’s revelations, and I really want to just go and find somewhere safe to sleep for a week. If you want something from me, I suggest you just come out and say it, because I’m leaving in exactly two minutes.”

Figgy smiled and leaned back in his chair. He pulled the dreadlocks behind his shoulders and squinted, scrutinising her. “I’ve a deal for you. The Cray is what’s keeping me alive, keeping me brain working, but it’s not quite enough.”

“Is that what the old Commodore is for?”

“Yeah, of a sorts. Although the tech is old and not powerful enough to be of any practical use, there’s a model of architecture in the chips that I’d like to develop into the Cray. You see, in tech, everything gets smaller, faster, more elegant, but sometimes, the old tech retains a kind of spirit. An almost defiant design that doesn’t care if it’s not powerful enough or designed to be efficient. It’s a crude, blasé attitude that we lost as we developed more and more sophisticated tech.”

“I can understand that,” Petal said, having seen some truly ugly systems designed in the past that could still do things in ways that more advanced systems couldn’t. Tech wasn’t all about power. It was about spirit, like he said. “So what do you want me to do?”

“I’ve been developing a new kind of AI interface to help the Cray and my brain function better. To be more efficient.”

Petal didn’t like where this was going. It had all the hallmarks of another psycho wanting to go posthuman and upload his brain into a computer system. She’d yet to see anyone do that with any lasting success. From Hajime and Sakura to Elliot, they all shared one thing in common: they were all nuts.
 

“You’re going posthuman?”

He shook his head, his dreads and cables clattering together. “No, not post, just augmented. I want to make my own brain better, not get rid of it. You see, I’ve developed a new set of routines that will solve one of life’s major problems.”

“What’s that?”

“The ageing process. The rate at which new brain cells are created gets slower to the point where the brain ceases to function as well as we want, and then eventually it stops working altogether through illness or disease. Though my body is already succumbing, I want my mind intact, and you can help me. You can help me develop the software to have the Cray make up for my diminishing cells.”

“A neural bridge?”
 

“Yes!” Figgy almost tried to stand with the excitement. “Exactly. I have the specifications of a system that I could never quite perfect, but with you and the lessons learned from the Commodore, I believe we can do it. I just need your skills to knit the software and hardware together. For someone of your ability it should be trivial. A few hours’ work.”

“What if this kills you?” Petal said. “Gabe’s only been back for a day. You have a granddaughter.”

“Listen,” Figgy said, hushing his voice. “I’m dying anyway, and I don’t think I’ve got long in this current state. If you don’t help me, I won’t be around for much longer. There’s no risk here. But the chance to live on, even with a withering body, has to be worth the chance, right? And there’s one other thing.”

Petal sighed. Why was there always one more thing? Nothing was ever simple.
 

“This thing is designed to have me do the job whether I want to or not, right? It’s to force my hand and make this friendly appeal all rather worthless because you knew all along I would have to do it.”

“See, this is why I need you. You’re the right kind of smart.”

“Yeah, a real living legend. So, go on, what’s the thing that I won’t be able to resist?”
 

“I can help you bring Gerry back.”

Bastard
. Her knees weakened and her stomach knotted at the thought of seeing Gerry again. But it was the one magic phrase that would make her do anything. She felt like a reluctant genie compelled to give the power of a wish in return for the freedom of the lamp. She dashed forward and stared him down, willing him to prove he was telling the truth.

“How exactly can you do that?” Petal asked. “I want assurances.”

“Help me and I’ll show you,” Figgy said, his face now all business.
 

Typical. Always someone wanting something from her. Petal was too tired to argue or negotiate. Tweaking software wasn’t the hardest thing in the world, and if it meant getting Gerry back, then of course she would do it.
 

“When do we start?” Petal asked.
 

Figueroa already had the jack plug in his hand and a smile on his face. “No time like the present. When you log in, you’ll see a cache of files with the new kernel routines. You’ll also find my essays on the Commodore’s designs. I’ve confirmed them with the hardware that you and Gabe so kindly retrieved for me.”

“I need more details.” Petal grabbed the jack plug but hesitated before connecting.
 

“There’s little to explain. The new kernel patch just needs configuring to work with my neural interface using the new design. Install it, reboot, and we should be done.”

The excited voices from the other room motivated Petal to get on with the job.
 

The quicker she got this done, the quicker she could find out if Figgy was bullshitting about bringing Gerry back.
 

With Gabe now playing the family man, she was left to find her own family—again.
 

“If you die, it won’t be my fault,” Petal said before jacking in.
 

***

A simple 3D interface made with pastel blues and greens greeted her.
 

A Cray logo and some copyright notification appeared on the interface. The build number was unusually large, indicating the number of modifications Figgy had performed on the system over the years. She noticed that she was already given sys-admin root user access. The old guy wasn’t fucking around. He’d literally given her access to his life.
 

Her brain switched over into binary mode, and Gerry’s influence, lurking in the deepest part of her systems, crept out like a great beast sensing food.
 

Her consciousness took on a weird state: half in dream, half in reality.
 

Code flowed between her and the Cray. Although much slower than the machines she was used to interfacing with, the old supercomputer processed her and Gerry’s instructions.
 

Soon she was scanning through the millions of lines of code from Figgy’s new kernel routines. They were designed to increase CPU cycles based on his own neural activity. As his brain slowed down, the machine would dedicate more of its processing to basic brain functions, aiding with brain elasticity.

With the old chip and architecture design work from the Commodore, Petal saw how elegant the solution was. But there was still one fatal flaw: the Cray only had so much CPU power at its disposal.
 

Looking through Figgy’s calculations, at the current rate of his decline, he’d max out the Cray within five years.
 

But then she guessed that’s where this idea of spirit came from.
 

Figgy was hoping that the new software routines would learn and adapt, increasing the efficiency of the CPUs, but ultimately, it still came down to that one problem.
 

He would be increasingly relying on a pseudo AI to bolster his brain.
 

And she knew exactly where that would take him.
 

But this was not her task to question. So she stopped thinking and let her mind meld with the network and interface with the huge bank of Cray CPUs.

With every line of code written, functions tested, programs debugged, she felt Gerry’s influence taking over so that now she wasn’t even aware of what was happening. She had become binary. She was the spirit in the code as it weaved together in an elegant function of logic and desire.
 

The AI they were creating was unlike any she had seen before.
 

Perhaps Figgy would be the one to crack the code of posthumanism after all… she wasn’t the one to judge, all she wanted was to finish up the last fragments of code and reboot the machine.
 

It took her and Gerry’s essence forty-three and a half minutes to complete the updates. The reboot process would occur in twenty seconds’ time.

She logged out, pulling the jack plug free, and returned to the real world. Sound and light and the heaviness of being almost crushed her senses. She stumbled forward on her chair, nearly collapsing.
 

A pair of strong hands stopped her fall and brought her back up.
 

Gabe squatted in front of her. Standing by him was his mother and father and, of course, Bonny.
 

“You okay, girl?” Gabe asked.
 

Bonny looked on with wide eyes.