by C. Gockel
She thought of her last conversation with Sixty. She’d thought they were a tribe—a family. But she didn’t have that, either.
28
Family Matters
Galactic Republic: System 5 New Grande
Standing across from 6T9 in a darkened doorway, a BarelyLegal ‘bot smiled at 6T9. Plopping the faux lollipop that came with her model into her mouth, she winked. She was holding one fire door open for the army of her sex ‘bot sisters that she and 6T9 had awoken. He was holding the other. The ‘bots ran between them as they headed down a flight of stairs. Beneath the factory, there was station for a magna-car line that ran under the city. The building reverberated with the sound of hover engines, much too close. 6T9 looked up apprehensively.
Pulling the lollipop from her mouth, the BarelyLegal, who preferred to go by the name Lolita, smirked. “When this is all over, Daddy, we will deserve a party.”
All the BarelyLegal ‘bots stopped, spun to 6T9, and clapped their hands in unison. “Yes, we will!” Their faces were all the same, and they all wore the same schoolgirl uniform with plaid skirt, white shirts, and knee high stockings. Only their skin, hair, and eye colors were customizable. Technically, their hair styles could be customized, too, but they came off the line with it in neat buns high on either side of their heads. Ostensibly, they looked like they were just of legal age. 6T9 thought they looked much younger. Another hover passed by too close. The Illustrious Mao’s voice cracked over the ether. “Our spies say the Dark’s agents have left the security ‘bot factory. They might blow this place just to be on the safe side.”
“Move!” barked 6T9 at the BarelyLegals.
They giggled and in unison said, “Maybe you need to give me a spanking?”
6T9 thought he might alight with rage. They were so stupid. His hands tightened on the flamethrower rifle Davies had given him from their weapons stash.
They were his family, he reminded himself. He used the only threat that would work. “Humans are dying with every second you waste.”
Their smiles vanished, and they hurriedly rushed down the stairs. He heard another hover approaching.
Sucking her lollipop, Lolita spoke over the ether as her sisters resumed their trip into the subterranean tunnels. “We’re still having that party, Daddy.”
The hover got closer. Lolita didn’t budge or show the least sign of fear. She had a Q-comm, but no experience. She wasn’t stupid. But inexperience might be the same thing. There was an explosion at the far end of the factory. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling. Gasping, Lolita looked up. At the end of the line of BarelyLegals, 6T9 heard Davies’s voice. “Run girls! Run!”
“We must take you!” some BarelyLegals declared, and 6T9 saw Davies and Falade hoisted high and carried forward at inhuman speed.
Another explosion ripped through the factory, closer this time. 6T9 heard shattering glass, and more rubble and dust fell from the ceiling. The ‘bots carrying Davies and Falade passed by, and 6T9 said to Lolita, “Now!” They pulled the doors shut. 6T9 blasted the seam between them with the flamethrower on plasma pulse.
“Will that hold them back?” Lolita asked.
“Hopefully they’ll blow the factory to kingdom come and won’t notice we’ve even left.” A meow sounded near 6T9’s ankles. He blinked down to find the Illustrious Mao. Picking up the cat, 6T9 followed Lolita and the BarelyLegals down the first flight of stairs, lit only by sickly green lights. Another explosion went off above them, and 6T9 heard rubble striking the doors.
Feet pounding on the stairs, clutching Mao tighter, he said, “If they had struck here first—”
“They wouldn’t have,” Mao said.
6T9 looked down at the cat.
“Carl told us you’d most likely come here,” Mao said. “Carl may treat you servants with too much familiarity and frankly too much leniency—” Mao’s ears went back. “But he does know his underlings well.”
“The Dark has infected someone who should know me,” 6T9 said, jumping down four steps to a landing.
“I theorize that the Dark doesn’t prioritize individual contributions to its consciousness,” Mao replied.
6T9 turned the corner and headed down a final flight. “What makes you theorize that?”
Mao hissed. “It has said all within it are equal on occasion. If it spoke the truth, it would follow the impulses of the greatest number of Infected. The contribution of a single inspired individual, even if correct, would be ignored.”
6T9 remembered the Infected talking as “we,” and Alexis saying it didn’t invent, only utilized technology that others had created. His Q-comm sparked. There were more implications to these related tidbits of data.
Mao hissed again. “Stop—”
6T9 jumped down the entire final flight to the train platform.
“Stop jumping!” Mao ordered. “You are so poorly trained!”
No sooner had Mao said the words than there was a boom above them and then a circuit-misfire-inducing shearing noise. The staircase supports screamed and it partially collapsed, bringing half the ceiling down with it. The air filled with dust. ’Bots and humans coughed. Cats sneezed and cried. And then there was silence. As the dust settled, 6T9 found himself staring at the ceiling with thousands of other sex ‘bots and cats. The station’s platform was packed. He walked over to the edge and gazed down the tracks toward the city. The tracks were designed with a narrow walkway on the side for maintenance ‘bots, and more sex ‘bots were walking along it. The curve in the track let him see all the way to the next platform. It was full of sex ‘bots. He knew the platform beyond that would be full too, and the next. Beneath the manufacturing district, there were stops under every building to take merchandise to the spaceport or downtown. 6T9 had spread the ‘bots out underground to hide them from the Infected.
The Illustrious Mao spoke into 6T9’s mind. “As soon as you reach the commuter stations, you’ll start to find clusters of the Infected—and also clusters of civilians hiding from them in runoff drains, bathrooms, janitor’s closets, and information booths.”
“Understood,” 6T9 answered. “Can they hear us above?”
Mao gazed upward. “No, they’re still in their fighter craft.”
6T9 turned to the ‘bots and humans on the platform. Among the ‘bots were his lieutenants, all the sex ‘bots he’d given Q-comms to, Lolita, Mila the RussianDoll, FireMan—as the Q-comm-receiving ManNUniform liked to be called—and seventeen others. The Q-comm activated sex ‘bots carried what stunner weapons they’d brought. The humans had the deadly weapons—and Kurz. The dog was standing on the top of a garbage can, wagging his tail. There was an orange tabby sitting on Kurz’s haunches, and rifles duct taped to the dog’s body. The rifles were ethernet activated … The One could use those. As if reading his thoughts, the tabby turned its tiny golden eyes toward 6T9 and winked. Deciding not to wonder if The One could now read machine thoughts, 6T9 accessed a weak local ethernet hub, connected to his sex ‘bot troops and Michael, and uploaded Mao’s most recent “theories” about the limits of the Dark’s collective consciousness, and his own observation that “The One” and even machines had room for individualism in their collectives.
Just as he finished, Davies sidled up next to him and said, “Sir, this is the point where you make a stirring speech.”
Which was when 6T9 realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly. His Q-comm began frantically downloading every military speech on record, but then one of his sex ‘bot troops—a BoyPop1 that liked to be known as “Jammin,’” said, “Sir, I have a question.”
6T9 blinked.
Jammin’ said, “Our operation is going to cause a lot of disruption. If the Dark doesn’t kill humans, maybe we shouldn’t interfere with the infection?”
Davies hissed under his breath.
6T9’s brow furrowed. He’d thought that Time Gate 5 had included all details of the Dark’s invasion in their servers.
Michael said, “The Dark takes away human ag
ency.”
That met with blank stares. A 32DD that liked to be known as “Dolly” said, “You’d murder and die for agency?”
“It does seem a little extreme,” Lolita concurred, waving her lollipop.
Davies spat. “They’re asking this question now?”
Clearing his throat, 6T9 held up a hand for their attention … and got it. “Not only does the Dark want to destroy all machines—”
“If it saves all humans, it might be worth it,” Jammin’ countered.
“What?” whispered Davies.
6T9 had wondered about that, too hadn’t he? They were programmed to value human life above their own. But he had an answer. Raising his hands high, he continued. “—it doesn’t believe in sex for pleasure or reproduction. There will be no new humans within a generation.”
There was a collective intake of breath.
All the recently activated non-Q-comm sex ‘bots on the platform put their hands to their mouths and moaned, “I can’t deactivate. I’m still a virgin!”
Lolita jumped on top of a bench, raised a rifle heavenward, and shouted, “The Dark must die!”
The other sex ‘bots roared, “The Dark must die!” But the roar was drowned out by the rumble of an approaching train.
A few minutes later, Davies chuckled as they boarded. “You motivated your people, sir.” The Luddeccean signaled to Falade and Lang, and the three went to the back of the train, rifles ready. The Illustrious Mao leaped from 6T9’s arms and went after them. Michael and Mila were already heading to the first car, Kurz and the dog’s feline passenger and machine gun operator beside them.
Connecting etherly to the train’s controller—not a true AI, but a sophisticated machine—he was greeted by a cheerful, “Android General 1, we are right on time!”
“Thank you, L1,” 6T9 replied, making his way to the middle car. L1 sent a map of the train system to his mind—the tracks, the stops, and the other trains coming behind them. The web-like system’s routes were all clear so far. The Dark had no desire to stop humans from traveling into its reach and hadn’t thought to stop the movement of merchandise. Or perhaps didn’t understand that every train car on the system was at 6T9’s—or Android General 1’s—command.
The train halted, and more sex ‘bots got on. The train was ten cars long. Another ten-car train was four minutes behind it. 6T9’s army was on its way.
6T9 moved to the space between the cars to get out of the way. The train left the station, and 6T9 counted down the minutes until the first real drop-off. Michael, Mila, and ten thousand sex ‘bots were going to a poorer suburb where a Dark-infected ship had landed. It was Michael’s home turf. 6T9 was certain that there was an emotional calculus in Michael’s request to fight there, but it was also the place where he could do the most good. Michael knew the territory there and knew Fleet veterans that could be armed. 6T9 hadn’t given even the Q-comm sex ‘bots the ability to kill. They were too young. Human help would be appreciated in that department. It was possible, when 6T9 got to the surface, if the ethernet came online, he might be able to contact the central computer of the local police force. The force might be useful. In his mind, he saw other train cars to the east and west stop at other stations where more of his sex ‘bot army waited. Maybe the train AI would know something about retired police—
A hand on his stomach drew him from the schemes and schematics. His hand tightened on a grip, and he glanced down to find Lolita standing too close, one hand creeping down his front. “We have time for a quickie, General, and I think it’s time to celebrate being alive.”
She was his kind, and he understood the impulse.
Her hand slipped lower. Nothing happened, and she frowned. “Are you malfunctioning?”
“No,” 6T9 said, removing her hand.
“Did you flip your monogamy switch?” she asked.
6T9 laughed bitterly. “No.” He’d proposed, and yet he hadn’t done that. Why hadn’t he done that? Did it matter now?
Lolita’s eyes got wide, and she smiled. “So the rumors about you and that primitive mutant woman aren’t true?”
“Primitive?” he asked, shocked.
Lolita’s nose wrinkled as though she’d detected an offensive chemical signature. “She’s not a cyborg or even educated.”
He stared at her a moment and heard himself correcting Volka for her faulty human memory. His circuits darkened and then heated in anger at Lolita and himself. He thought of telling the other sex ‘bot how primitive other machines would believe her to be, but Lolita would find that out soon enough.
“Volka is educated,” he said instead, in ways Lolita was too young to understand.
Lolita’s eyes widened, and her lips parted. She looked confused and hurt. He could try to explain, but it occurred to him she wouldn’t or couldn’t believe. He inclined his head to the car. “Go make sure your sisters weren’t injured in the explosions.”
Ducking her head, she went dutifully back into the car. 6T9 looked down at the tracks disappearing beneath the train’s wheels. His circuits sparked. He’d turned down life-affirming sex, not because he was worried about Volka finding out or because he’d flipped his monogamy switch. He’d turned it down because he wasn’t in the mood.
And then he heard Lolita’s description of Volka in his head, “—primitive mutant woman,” and remembered other similar statements about Volka’s lack of education. Volka knew about that reputation; she’d been trying to fix it since leaving Luddeccea, listening to historical documentaries as she painted. On Luddeccea he knew she’d used her free time to read silly adventure novels. She hadn’t listened to any fictional holos since he’d met her.
She’d been trying to evolve herself to fit his world. She wasn’t and couldn’t be a cyborg. She never would fit.
His Q-comm flashed and suddenly he had to see her.
29
Twisted Mindscapes
“Bracelet,” 6T9 called out into the nothing. He simultaneously gave himself an avatar, one wearing his armor so Volka wouldn’t ask if he was protected.
“Right here, Android General 1,” Bracelet said, and an image of Volka emerged in the gloom, Bracelet glinting on her left wrist.
6T9 relaxed. “You are well.”
“I am. I have achieved so much since you saw me last!” Bracelet exclaimed cheerfully. Volka’s expression remained strangely blank. “I discovered Sundancer’s kin at the other side of a singularity weapon and led Miss Volka and the Marines to them.”
“How?” 6T9 asked.
Bracelet launched into an explanation and finished with, “There was some sort of psychic confrontation at the end—”
Static fizzled along 6T9’s spine, but then Bracelet said, “However, the team was able to escape.”
“You’re not with her anymore,” 6T9 said, eyeing the ghostly avatar of Volka that Bracelet wore as an extension of her own physical form.
“No,” Bracelet said. “Although my chip’s particle has been found, and there is considerable interest in finding a way to—”
“Where is Volka?” 6T9 asked.
“I don’t know,” Bracelet said. “Perhaps you can ether her with my old shell? She can still utilize it as an ether-to-speech device.”
“System 5’s ethernet is intermittent,” 6T9 said.
“Oh, that is problematic. Did you know Lauren G3 is having a mindscape party in a virtual reality version of the Roman Coliseum? I’m sure you’d be welcome to attend. She is reenacting the sea battles—”
“Volka could be in danger, Bracelet! She could die,” 6T9 said. “Do you know where she is?”
“I have heard no reports of her demise,” Bracelet said. “I am sure—”
6T9 blinked out of the mindscape; in the real world he watched a track disappear under the car and considered. James might know where Volka was. He was in Galactic Fleet Intelligence. Connecting again to the mindscape, 6T9 called out to someone else. Someone who knew more than James. Someone James abhorred. “Daddy 1, do
you know where Volka is?”
6T9 stared out of a foreign pair of eyes at dusk on the asteroid. His perspective was off, lower than normal. He wasn’t as strong. There was a warning light in the periphery of his vision telling him he had aesthetic damage over large portions of his body. 6T9 was inside FET12, his server controlling the other ‘bot’s body. Time Gate 1 had said Volka had informed Fleet she was going back to the asteroid to get some sleep. 6T9 had asked FET12 if the other ‘bot would relay a message—instead the other ‘bot had given him full access to his hardware.
Volka was walking away from him across the asteroid’s lawn, slinking gracefully along in a pair of form-fitting trousers. She was getting ready to hunt.
On unfamiliar legs, he ran after her. “Wait, Volka!” His voice was FET12’s too, and it was strange to hear.
She spun, and her eyes glowed in the low light. Another pair of glowing eyes emerged beside her, Shissh, Carl Sagan’s once-sister, now in the body of a Bengal Tiger.
6T9 drew to a halt.
Volka’s shoulders softened. “What is it, FET12?”
He gulped. “It’s me, 6T9 … for the moment. FET12 gave me control of his hardware.”
Volka’s frame stiffened. Was it because it was him, or was it just the events of the day? He knew from Time Gate 1 that she’d been interrogated by Fleet, again, without 6T9 to protect her. Fleet hadn’t been pleased by her “unilateral decision” to drop off Bracelet’s Q-comm chip into the singularity beam. They also hadn’t been pleased that they hadn’t been informed that there was another sentient device aboard Sundancer during the mission—Bracelet had been “unvetted,” but given access to top-secret intel.