Unstable Prototypes (42 page)

"I vote we don't contact the computer lady,"
Jon said, raising his hand. The brief intermission in his terror
had ended once they were separated from his adoring public. "I mean
it. I'm already in this deeper than I want to be. Those people
killed a whole heck of a lot of people today, and not a single one
of the people they killed had actually
done
anything to
them. We got them on camera! For all we know, they are going to be
coming after us! I don't want to make it look like I was
collaborating against them."

"They are terrorists, Jon. They
want
to be on camera. If they'd spotted us, they probably would have
given us a speech about the evils of technological stagnation, like
in that old recording you showed me," Michella said. "If you're
worried about safety, you'd be better off hoping that the military
or the AI actually manages to stop them before this Karter
character gives them something really dangerous."

"Something really dangerous? What exactly was
it that they detonated in the sky? Something harmless?"

"Compared to some of the stuff I've seen him
do? Yeah, that was fairly tame," Lex explained.

"Tell that to the people in that facility
they hit," Jon replied. "Tell me again how this computer lady is
going to help find him, anyway."

"She's assembled a group of operatives. One
at least. By now, probably two. Once they know where he is, they'll
probably mount a rescue."

"... How does a computer assemble a group of
operatives?"

"With my help, apparently."

"But there are people out there who would
just put their lives on the line because some computer lady told
them to?"

"Well, they used to work with Karter, and
besides, they owe her for busting them out of prison."

"... They're criminals?"

"War criminals, actually. But the one I met
seems like an okay guy, more or less."

Jon turned to Michella. "And you knew about
this?"

"He told me right before the attack," she
said.

"Well wouldn't we just be helping one group
of dangerous people steal a very dangerous person away from another
group of dangerous people?"

Michella considered his words. "Jon has a
point, Trev."

"Of course I have point! Apparently I'm the
only completely sane person in this car!" Jon raved. "And
considering I'm screaming like a lunatic, what does that say about
you two!?"

"Look, I'll admit it is kind of a moral gray
zone," he replied.

"I'd say it is a pretty blatant moral black
zone," Jon countered.

"I... Well... Well
maybe,
but what's
done is done. She clearly already got the transmission from the
pad. She probably already traced it. If we get her as much info as
possible, she'll have a better chance at getting him away from the
Luddites. Even if the criminals who end up with him have evil plans
for him, Ma trusts them enough to get them involved in this
mission. That makes them easily the lesser of two evils."

"But why are we even going to
choose
an evil?! There is the army and the marines! We could get the trace
from her and give it to the good guys!"

"No, we can't. They've got people in the
military. If we give them any information, we have no way of
knowing that it won't find its way to one of their moles, and then
we would be back where we started."

"Okay... Okay so I'm back to my first vote.
Don't tell computer lady anything."

"Jon, listen. You need to look at the big
picture," Michella said. "If we contact the AI, she can give us
information, and we can give her information. The more information
we have, the better story we can write. We can dig deeper, expose
more, and do it faster. We can drag these terrorists completely out
into the light, reveal their moles. We can end the Neo-Luddites,
and we can secure ourselves a position as journalistic legends at
the same time. And if these criminals working with the AI do have
dark intentions, Trevor knows things about them, too. We can expose
them, too. My God, Jon, escaped war criminals, a rogue mad
scientist, terrorists, advanced artificial intelligences? We aren't
just sitting on the story of the century, we're sitting on five of
them!"

"Mitch, if we're going to do this, you can't
expose Karter and Ma and G... and their allies," Lex said, quietly
reminding himself not to refer to people of interest by name while
Michella is around. "You've got to trust me when I say that Ma's
crew has got the best chance of pulling this off, and it
needs
to get pulled off."

"You don't need to tell me to be discrete,
Trev," she snapped. "Today's story is the Neo-Luddites. I can do
what I need to do without revealing anything that is dangerous for
your friends. You of all people should know that I take the safety
and anonymity of my sources very seriously."

Lex and Michella turned to Jon. He looked
back and forth between them.

"Well what are you looking at me for? If this
is a democratic process, I've been outvoted," he said in
exasperation. "This is why democracy doesn't work. The crazy people
always outnumber the sane people."

"Okay, so I'm contacting her, then," Lex
said.

"Right," Michella said tensely, leaning
forward to glance at the screen. Even Jon scooted up in his seat to
peer at the slidepad.

Lex swallowed, licked his lips, and carefully
stated, "Open Com Ma."

The screen scrolled various indicators of
maximum encryption, multi-path routing, and a handful of other
terms Lex didn't understand, all while the words
Recording For
Transmission
and
Establishing Secure Connection
pulsed
slowly. Finally, a recording was triggered, read aloud in the
synthetic voice Ma had been forced to adopt since the electrical
mishap.

"I am sorry. Due to current circumstances, it
has been deemed unwise to accept incoming connections at this time.
When I am able to do so safely and effectively, I will contact you.
Thank you."

Jon looked up. "Well that was
anti-climactic."

"Let's hurry up and get back to the Pavilion.
As long as I've got some time to prepare, I'd like to do this
right. Hopefully we can get through to our rooms and get some
privacy before she contacts us."

"Yeah, sounds good. I should have figured we
wouldn't get through. If she was available, we'd have been getting
calls every thirty seconds. They are probably in the middle of
something extremely important," Lex said.

#

"There, see? Adorable!" Silo said, holding Ma
up to the mirror on the far side of the sanitation booth in the
Armistice.

After becoming bored waiting for Garotte to
return, Ma had suggested that Silo prepare a burrito for her. As
she did so, she decided to dig through the odd assortment of other
goods that Ma had requested that Lex buy. When she had found the
blue bandanas, she instantly decided that Ma's black and white form
could benefit from some color. Thus, one of the bandanas was tied
into a fluffy bow around her neck. Ma studied her reflection
critically, then glanced at Silo in the mirror, unimpressed.

"Well, maybe blue isn't your color," Silo
said with a shrug, putting Ma down. "But just wait until you see
what Uncle Garotte is bringing for you."

Ma made her way to the slidepad and tapped
out a message. "You requested that Garotte secure an item or items
on my behalf?"

"Sure. That inventory had a few things I
thought would look cute on you."

"That is very kind. I appreciate the
gesture."

"No problem, sweetheart," Silo said, picking
up the self-warmed burrito and tearing it open. "Are you sure this
is what you eat?"

"Yes."

"Won't it give you, you know..." Silo began,
lowering her voice to a whisper. "... Gas?"

Ma, apparently anticipating this line of
questioning, selected a lengthy reply. "The process used to
generate the genetic makeup of the funk resulted in a slightly
nonstandard biochemistry. One notable quirk is the presence of an
anti-oligosaccharide enzyme, allowing the complete and proper
digestion of legumes. We have found that so long as it is coupled
with a suitable grain, as a source of Methionine, a diet composed
chiefly of legumes and fortified with selected vitamins is
sufficient to maintain optimal health levels."

"Mmmhmm," she said, tearing off a piece of
the burrito, feeding it to Ma, and giving very little indication
that she'd even heard her speak. "All I know is that whenever
Brewski got a hold of anything with beans in it, no one wanted to
be near him for days."

"Most digestive processes are ill suited to
properly process-"

"Of course, Brewski wasn't nearly as cute as
you."

"- the complex sugars contained within-"

"Koosh on the other hand. She could have
given you a run for your money."

"-most legumes. I apologize, but due to-"

"She used to do tricks."

"-the nature of my current means of
communication, I am unable to-"

"Of course. She'd do anything you wanted her
to if it meant she'd be getting a treat. Usually bacon."

"-interrupt a statement once it has
started."

Ma hesitated for a moment, accepting her meal
piece by piece and waiting to see if Silo was through with her
interruptions. When the flow of words didn't continue, she tapped a
message she had prepared earlier that now seemed particularly
relevant.

"It is a point of continuing confusion to me
that observers routinely mistake the funk for, and compare it to,
domesticated canines. It was an intended effect of selecting this
form factor, but the consistency with which it is mistaken for
canine, even after close examination, defies expectation. Though
the physiology shares certain clear similarities, there are
multiple very notable and distinctive features that are clearly and
obviously vulpine or musteline."

"Say again?"

Ma swiped out a shorter sentence.

"Why do people think I am a dog instead of a
fox or skunk?"

"Well, I guess if it walks like a dog, and
barks like a dog, and it is wandering around at the end of a leash,
you just sort of fill in the blanks, you know? I mean, what's more
likely, fancy breed of dog, or weird science experiment?"

"That appears to be a valid assessment. Thank
you for your insight."

A tone sounded from the ship's control
panel.

"Ooh! Garotte is back!" Silo said, clapping
hands in excitement.

She tapped the door control, revealing her
associate. He was weighed down with a shopping spree's worth of
packages, and had a vicious scowl on his face.

"Something wrong, my dearest darling?" she
said, mimicking his latest accent as she shut the door and helped
him with the packages.

"You were supposed to select one or two
outfits to help you blend into the general populous, not every
bloody thing on the shelves that might fit!" he growled.

"Oh, please. Are you going to tell me that
you didn't drink one of your precious gin and tonics the first
chance you got?"

"I'll have you know that I made due with aged
double-black whiskey."

"And
I
made due with shopping from a
catalog rather than trying everything on. The sacrifices we make in
the line of duty."

"Well then explain
this!
" he said,
reaching into a bag and pulling out a small pink bag with dog bones
and paw prints on it.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed, snatching it away and
digging through it. "Ma, come here!"

"Garotte has returned. We must contact Lex.
There is a message indicating that he attempted to contact us."

If Ma had been capable of being interrupted,
she would have been. Instead, her slidepad finished reading off her
statement as she was snatched away and assaulted by Silo with the
contents of the bag. Garotte shook his head and walked over to the
ship's console, plugging his own slidepad into the appropriate
socket.

"Open Com Lex. Audio only," he said.

After a few moments of encryption and
negotiation, the connection was established. There was the sound of
hushed conversation and hurried shutting of doors.

"Lex, my boy?" Garotte said.

"Yeah! Yeah, Garotte, I'm here."

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, this is fine."

"Are you certain? Because it sounds like you
aren't alone. And I had some very personal questions to ask."

"Yeah, there's going to be a lot of questions
going in both directions. Can you switch on the video?"

"That depends. Who is with you right
now?"

"My girlfriend Michella, and her intern,
Jon."

"Get them to leave."

"I have information you need," Michella said,
"And you have information I want. I can help you."

"Why would you have information I need? Why
would you even
know
what information I need?"

"Told them some things," Lex said.

"Did you now? Well, Mr. Alexander,
congratulations on making the transition from questionable asset to
undeniable liability. Close c-"

Ma interrupted him, yipping madly. Garotte
rolled his eyes.

"Give the computer her pad, would you?" he
groaned without looking.

"Sorry sweetheart, here you go. Just try to
hold still," Silo said, reaching over and handing the device to the
creature.

"Girlfriend is reporter. May have good info,"
came the hastily assembled reply.

"I'm not certain a reporter is likely to have
any information I can use."

"Hey! I'll have you know that it was her
utter disregard for local laws and personal safety that got that
signal to you from the pad on that ship! And all of that footage!"
Jon objected.

"Was that the intern?"

"Yes."

"Tell the intern to leave."

"Hey!"

"Jon, you didn't even want us to contact them
in the first place," Lex said.