Child of the Fall

by D Scott Johnson

And yet here she was.

  Mike parked the car in the lot outside the lobby entrance. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  Kim swallowed, then swallowed again. Mike wasn’t on Watchtell’s list, and they didn’t have time or even a particularly good reason for him to be put on it. She would have to face Watchtell alone. The neural blockers stopped the pain of whatever was happening to her arm, but they couldn’t stop the memories of his hands on her—

  “I’m fine.” She would be fine. She would.

  Kim got out and concentrated on a different sort of fear. She was walking into a federal prison. Kim didn’t care about getting caught when she was an immortal teenager, because she’d never be caught. The older Kim got, and the closer the calls got, the more it dawned on her what a true nightmare prison would be for someone like her. A pistol became her constant companion. For Kim, it had a secondary purpose. She would not, could not, be taken alive.

  Those super cheerful thoughts got her up to the door. It slid open, but the mechanism needed adjustment and rattled in time with her nerves. The trim around the doors was pitted, and dirt had accumulated in the seams and corners of the walls. Everything screamed lowest bidder. It was like a cross between a DMV and an ER waiting room.

  Kim had arrived early to avoid the crowds the old-fashioned website had warned about, but she was far from alone. This was the time of day mothers brought their children, or visited them.

  A Hispanic woman just ahead of her in the line, child solidly asleep on her shoulder, looked back and shook her head. “Wrong line. Lawyers go there.”

  By her accent she was from Guatemala. Kim switched to Spanish. “I’m not a lawyer.”

  Speaking their native language always set people at ease, and Kim could see this woman was no different. “Are you a missionary? You sound like you’re from my village.”

  Kim nodded and told the simple lie. “My parents were. I grew up Quito.” Simple wasn’t easy. She’d had to memorize the capital of every country whose language she spoke to make it work. Kim knew a lot of languages.

  The woman shook her head. “You don’t have a city accent.”

  Kim’s accent always mimicked whoever she was talking to. When people lived in cities, they never noticed. People from the countryside always did.

  Kim shrugged. “My mother says our maid was from a village so small it didn’t have a name.” She said it matter-of-factly, and the woman took it that way. Missionaries had a solid reputation for paying their employees well.

  The guard who checked her ID also mistook her for a lawyer. Kim had pulled out her best suit for this encounter. She was living well and wanted it to show.

  She sat down in the cheap plastic chair and steeled herself. He’d be arrogant, or sleazy, or condescending, or creepy. Probably all of them at once. She performed the breathing exercises Mike taught her as part of their meditation.

  Center and breathe. In one nostril, out the other.

  The absurdity didn’t detract from the fact that it worked. She opened her eyes just as Watchtell came around the corner. He wasn’t any of the things she prepared herself for.

  He was scared.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat down. “You’re supposed to be at the plant. I told you that’s where the problem was.”

  Kim was too confused to be offended by his commands. “We didn’t need to go to the plant. We found another way.”

  He barked out a laugh. The people sitting around them looked up briefly. “Always doing the unexpected, yes?”

  She had made a big deal of that back in the day, but they had other things to discuss. “I’m not here to talk about the plant. I’m here to talk about…” He had to know that she knew, and yet he insisted on playing more games with her. Sitting across this table in his prison, he still thought he was in charge. That made it easier to confront him. “I’m here to talk about my son.”

  “I know. You were supposed to find out about that, but at the plant.”

  “Why does it matter that I find out about it there?”

  “The team my daughter is with would have gotten notice when the gravitics experiment’s security was compromised. They were to go to ground, find a safe house, and await my instructions.”

  She was tired of his mysteries, his constant need to hide things. “Who?”

  He looked at her and his blue eyes flashed. “It was supposed to be a tiger team. Professional security forces were to take Emily, Will, and the monitors to safety. But that’s all gone now, thanks to you. The monitors must’ve taken their own initiative when the alarm sounded.”

  So Watchtell was behind it. “Monitors?”

  “A pair of top-notch therapists who are there to ensure my grandson makes his transition without risking your”—now the old condescension came back—“imperfections.”

  Said the man in the orange jump suit.

  But now he was on a roll. “You were damaged and corrupted by your upbringing. It turned you into an uncontrollable psychopath.”

  Other points of view didn’t exist around Matthew Watchtell. There was right and wrong, and he was the ultimate judge of each. It was chilling. There was definitely a psychopath at the table, but it wasn’t her.

  “The child would be raised in a proper, caring environment fully prepared for what might happen when the abilities manifested. We would then be able to continue the experiments we were forced to stop when you escaped.”

  “Where are they, Matthew?”

  That at least stopped his monologue, and it took away his smugness at the same time. “They could be anywhere. That’s why you had to go to the plant.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  He closed his eyes and calmed down. The stillness made Kim’s skin crawl. “Anna will eventually break into the datastores of the experiment. When she does, she will discover Will’s existence. Will is the key to all this. People with your talent amplify the experiment’s ability to manipulate higher dimensions. There is no upper limit. That’s the fuse, that’s why we’re all in danger. When Anna discovers that Will is the key, she’ll stop at nothing to find him. You would either foil her plan, or intercept Will. There would be no need to locate him. He’d come to you.” He looked up with a sick smile. “I was doing you a favor.”

  Of course he was. “Are they in danger or not?”

  By the way his expression changed, Kim almost thought he cared. “Yes. Anna is ruthless and has tremendous resources. Her network of greens extends to the radicals, people who think nothing of setting deadly booby traps in forests or bombing executives with incorrect opinions.” He smirked. “You and your cohort had more than a bit in common with them, as I recall.”

  They weren’t a cohort, they were the rest of Rage + the Machine, her best friends. The ones he helped murder. “We never resorted to violence, ever.” She took her own calming breath. “How do I find them?”

  He pulled his hand across his buzz-cut gray hair. It turned him from a demon that haunted her dreams into a beaten old convict.

  Good.

  “I don’t know. But it won’t be easy, especially for you.”

  More challenges. Great. “Why will it be harder for me?”

  “The only person I thought would ever represent a danger to them was you.”

  A child. He thought she would be a danger to the child he had created for experiments. She had slapped him once before. The urge to do it again in spite of the guards, in spite of the searing pain it would cost her, was difficult to control. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “They know about you, about the chaos you bring, the violence you tow in your wake. If they see you coming, they’ll flee. You will have to approach with caution.”

  He sincerely believed she was dangerous. Kim thought nothing would help her overcome her fear of this monster, but being accused of even the possibility of hurting a child, any child, was the last straw. This was a dead end. He didn’t know where Will was. She stood slowly, carefully keeping her arms a
t her sides.

  The guards in the room focused on her, hands on their weapons. Kim relaxed. She had allowed him into her head. He’d been living there rent free for months. That would never happen again.

  The young Hispanic mother she met on the way in sat across from what must have been her husband or boyfriend. He was a tattooed tough guy but held his child tenderly. Both gaped at her. She realized how tightly her jaw was clenched. Her hands were balled in fists that shook a little. She started breathing again. When her vision had cleared, she saw she was the center of attention.

  She switched to Spanish. “This son of a bitch is here because he mistreated his grandson.” The people who understood her went hard as stone, including some of the guards.

  Kim said the next part clearly. “It would be terrible if something happened to him.”

  Watchtell glanced around. “What did you say? What did you tell them?”

  Kim turned and walked out as he shouted behind her. She would never be afraid of him again. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was done with that monster now.

  She got in the car, wiping her face dry.

  “What’s wrong?” Mike asked. “Are you okay?”

  Kim blinked and smiled. “I’m fine.” She was more than fine. She had faced her dragon and found out he was only a sick, twisted old man. “I’ve never been better.”

  Chapter 22

  June

  When she woke up, Cyril was sitting at her small dinner table reading the newsfeeds on a virtual screen in the house’s shared space. He still wore the same suit as the night before. It didn’t look very comfortable.

  “Catching up on the news?” she asked.

  “In a manner of speaking.” He closed the feed. “When does your shift start?”

  June checked the time. “Less than an hour.”

  He motioned for her to sit. After starting her teapot, she did.

  “Some ground rules are in order,” he said. “I will remain here and help you remotely. You must not mention me to your colleagues, virtual or otherwise. No visitors without giving me warning.”

  She needed what he knew, they all did. “And in return?”

  “Slow and steady forward progress. That’s what you want, yes?”

  He’d seen the confrontation with Anna. Even after sleeping on it, she was still unhappy with the outcome. Anna did not appreciate people who defied her, and June had done it in front of the board. She covered her distress by preparing the tea, placing an empty cup next to Cyril. The man made no move toward it.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  Another enigmatic pause. Not even his gloved hands moved. “There’s more than one answer to that question, and I’m afraid you won’t understand any of them right now.”

  “You said there are more coming. Will they get in the way you did?” Maybe he would give her a clue as to how he did that.

  For some reason the question amused him greatly. “Oh no, they won’t be using the same route I did. That much I can tell you with certainty. They will take some time getting here. My hope is that, when they arrive, we will have the required trust between us that will allow you believe me when I say they pose no threat.”

  It wasn’t an attitude June was used to. Anna commanded respect and attention. The whole board was like that. June’s ability to tolerate it, even admire it in Anna’s case, was one of the reasons she was able to thrive doing her job. Cyril, however, seemed to assume he had to bargain for her trust, prove he was worthy of it. It was a refreshing change to be treated like a partner rather than commanded as a subject.

  Even if your partner was a mystery man in a bad cosplay suit. “Is there some sort of medical reason you have to wear that?” The advent of neural phone technology had allowed people with all sorts of disabilities to lead successful lives. June could only guess what might’ve gone wrong to create this particular configuration.

  Again he paused before answering. Around others, it might be disturbing, but June had grown up with her oupa. He could go for hours without speaking. It reminded her of home. Comfort.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. It’s a story you’ll have to earn my trust to hear.”

  Even filtered into a robotic sound, June could still hear the smile in his voice. He was odd, but charming. “How will I reach you? What’s your address?”

  He called up the virtual screen he’d been using to view the news. “We can use this.”

  He must have a neural connection, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to interact with the house properly. That said, it didn’t need to be much. Old-fashioned grayTooth would allow access to the local shared space. Cyril’s problem had to be medical.

  “Was whatever put you in that suit an accident?” she asked.

  “As I said, a story for another time.”

  It worked to her advantage. Now she could easily control what he could and could not see. Those unlocked datastores were very much on her mind, and Cyril had given no indication he knew anything about them.

  If she ever managed to get back to them. Bad news came during the morning board meeting.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you off that project for now,” Anna said. “The security breach is much more important, as is getting one-third of our unduplicate force back to doing the work it needs to.”

  Just like that, she was retasked. The breach could be handled by anyone. She had secret knowledge. “I’ve made a new discovery. Whatever happened to the network caused those datastores we’ve been investigating to unlock.”

  “Even more reason to understand and develop counters for that breach technique. If it has the ability to open secure storage, the entire power plant could be at risk.” She shared another one of those secret looks with the rest of the board. “I need not remind anyone here how serious that would be. Max, get the access keys you need and take a look at those datastores. I’ll want a preliminary report tomorrow.”

  June thought she’d been forgiven, but she was wrong. She was being punished and forced to take it like a compliment. A spectacular bit of realm technology had been taken away from her.

  She calmed down while the meeting continued. June hadn’t been benched. Anna’s points were valid. It may not even be punishment. The comfort of that thought was snuffed when she saw the smirk on Max’s face.

  No, it wasn’t a compliment.

  Then it got worse.

  “I’ll need you to coordinate your research with Trilogy,” Anna said. “They’ve dispatched a technician to help us figure this out on-site. Since this originated with them, they should help us find the fix.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Trilogy was nothing but a bunch of low-rent wannabes. It had taken her months to untangle some of their custom work when she got Inkanyamba. Before she did he wouldn’t shut up about the end of the world.

  Complaining to Anna about the reassignment would not help; it would make things worse. It also wasn’t her way. Anna was the boss, and if the boss wanted her to do it, she did it. They didn’t pay her to have fun; they paid her to do the job.

  Unfortunately Trilogy had stopped answering her calls. All she knew was a tech had been dispatched.

  Cyril had been sympathetic when she got home. “You must be very disappointed.”

  June shrugged. “They’ll have to put me back on the project eventually. Anna has known Max for a long time, but he’s neither as knowledgeable nor as hard working as I am.” As far as she could tell, the man’s main talent was sucking up to Anna. “I have to be patient.” Her oupa would be proud.

  “It’s no coincidence you can’t reach Trilogy. Have you seen the news today?” He pulled up a story about them. Their compound had been turned into matchsticks; the headline mentioned a propane explosion.

  “Was anyone hurt?” she asked as she opened the fridge to get a snack. Things had been rearranged a little, and she was missing a couple of bananas. That was disappointing. She had hoped maybe dinner would make him take the helmet off.

 
“No, but from that destruction I don’t know how they avoided it.”

  “Ironic,” June said. “They thought the end of the world would happen because of rogue AIs. Looks like it had more to do with poor gas fittings and a bad generator.”

  “No, the irony is that they’ve been working the entire time with someone who actually is trying to end the world.”

  “Who?”

  He cocked his head at her. Without a face to cue on, June was starting to read his moods by body language alone. Cyril came to a decision. “It’s why I’m here. The device you found? It’s a fuse. And that?”

  He pointed out the window at the plant’s campus.

  “That is the bomb.”

  Chapter 23

  Edmund

  The truth was Edmund needed an advanced AI companion more than Spencer did. While the latter’s insight into getting further into the plant’s good graces was a stroke of brilliance, it triggered a very large amount of background work that had to be completed in the greatest haste. Spencer needed an entire identity created before the plant made its first call. It wasn’t as simple as faking an entry in an About Us personnel list. Humans naturally left traces of their online persona in hundreds of places only the most paranoid would think to look, and Edmund already knew the Yellowstone Project was run by one of the finest paranoid minds around.

  It gave Edmund no choice but to fully engage his datastores for the first time in at least five years. The result was a barely controllable exhilaration as he created everything needed, down to the last access cookie on an ancient but well-known forum for desperate young people looking to break into professional AI work. When he was finished, he was horrified to find the datastores’ sophistication had increased well beyond his ability to contain them. Without a way to remove at least some of their complexity, achieving consciousness would happen in weeks, if not days.

  That’s why the mistress’s request to build an AI for Spencer was such a relief. Mistress Kim couldn’t afford another unduplicate even if she wanted one, but new advances in quantum spin simulacra could get them at least three-quarters of the way to parity at a fraction of the cost. But cost wasn’t why he cared. These new-style AIs were based on many of the technologies that he used. It allowed him to drain off a great deal of complexity in a form that he could retrieve if and when he figured out how to stop the consciousness progression. It was indeed a very cunning plan.