by Lance Erlick
The officer compared her image to that of Luke and Krista and moved on, scanning the fourteen faces behind her.
Synthia settled in, keeping her eyes on the passengers in front of her and through the camera in the back of her neck on those behind. They all presented as human in various states of biometric relaxation.
she told Chicago-clone.
When the train pulled into Cumberland station, just short of O’Hare Airport, Synthia grabbed her backpack and stepped off the train. Her decision in part was to stay in the area until she had a clearer picture of Luke’s future and whether she could help him. She pushed that idea into a remote memory chip before Krista caught on and interrupted again.
The platform contained three police officers from the neighborhood, scanning passengers as they exited the station. Synthia hacked their scanners to make sure they were recording her out-of-town male alias, and disappeared down the stairs and across the street.
Synthia needed to do something about these intrusions and establish that she, not her alter ego, was in control. “The FBI and other government agents are counting on us leaving,” she mumbled under her breath. “Our highest probability of remaining free and safe is to stay.”
“You aren’t thinking clearly. Unless you have news to add, let me concentrate.”
Two blocks away was the used-car dealer Chicago-clone had selected. The clone negotiated a price on a used SUV, so when Synthia walked in with the fake male ID Chicago-clone used for negotiations, the chubby, middle-aged salesman with a thinning hairline was eager to make a deal.
“Over the phone you said you wanted to drive it home,” the salesman said. He sported a wide grin as if to grease the transaction and close the deal.
Synthia examined the target SUV; it would serve her needs. Chicago-clone provided video of someone test-driving the vehicle earlier in the day, so Synthia dispensed with that. “You’ll take care of transferring the title?” She made sure to use her baritone voice.
“We do everything. Only seventeen grand.”
“For that banged-up wreck?” Synthia exaggerated what appeared as three instances of paint chipped away and a modest parking-lot ding. “You said it looked new.”
“Hold on. We can do sixteen.”
“Fifteen and not a penny more. That’s net of taxes and fees.” Synthia didn’t want to sound too eager, too desperate, figuring the salesman might take notice and contact the police.
The salesman shook his head.
Synthia turned to leave. Before she reached the door he called after her. “Wait. I’ll see what I can do. We’ll have to run a credit check.”
“It’s a cash deal with a certified electronic check from the bank. Better than cash.” She checked the time on a wall clock by the exit. “Dang it, I didn’t realize it was so late. I have an important business meeting. Can we wrap this up and have the vehicle ready in twenty minutes?”
It would have been quicker to steal a car, but Synthia didn’t want to break any more laws than she had to. Just her existence constituted a felony that carried the death sentence: hers. Besides, she was hoping she could use this vehicle for a while, which precluded theft. She had her clone route some of the money she’d kept from Machten through the dark web and into a bank that did strictly online transactions.
The salesman eyed Synthia for a moment and disappeared into his office. She followed him. His nervous fingers tapped away at his virtual keyboard. “Your meeting around here?”
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m sure you can complete this faster if you concentrate.”
The salesman dove into the sale documentation, checking his watch far too often. Sweat beaded up on his forehead.
The salesman turned his screen so she could see the documents. “Sign here and you can be on your way. What about payment?”
Synthia skimmed the agreement across multiple mind-streams to make sure it looked in order and signed with her heated finger. She pulled out a cheap phone, hid the screen from the salesman and the camera behind her, and pretended to make the certified-check transaction.
Synthia stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket and held out her hand. “Keys, please.”
“We usually do prep work.”
“Make sure the vehicle has tags and don’t make me late.”
The salesman hustled out of his office with Synthia close behind. She slowed her pace and made sure the dealership’s cameras would not have any clear image of her face. The salesman attached the tags and handed Synthia the key fob.
“You’ll really like this baby,” he said.
As she started the SUV, Synthia picked up van video of Luke with his escorts parked in front of a brownstone in the middle of a street filled with similar buildings. Special Agent Thale directed two agents to check the place while the others waited outside. Receiving the go-ahead, Thale led the way inside. Synthia piloted three mosquito-drones with them, flying them to corners of the apartment so she could watch Luke. He appeared shell-shocked and miserable. Two of the men dropped Luke’s bags on the floor and left.
Thale pulled Zephirelli into the bedroom, alone. “I need to see what assistance Machten and the other company executives can provide in controlling their androids,” Thale said. “Assume any calls can be monitored and minimize your appearance outside. Luke is a prized target. We can’t be sure who might be watching.”
“I know the drill,” Zephirelli said, nodding. “Let me know if I can help.”
“With all due respect,” Thale said, “after Special Ops scooped your mission, how can you be sure who in your organization you can trust?”
“I know my staff. Be careful. People are willing to kill for these androids.”
Chapter 15
As she left the car dealership, Synthia kept several channels and forms of surveillance on Luke, on Special Agent Victoria Thale, and on the FBI in general, trying to thread a narrow path that kept her free, yet found a way to help Luke.
She watched closely as Thale talked to two agents parked across the street from the brownstone where the FBI held Luke. She left them to join two other agents and drive up to Evanston. They reached Jeremiah Machten’s home as he arrived, timing her appearance with the help of traffic cameras. Thale blocked him from entering his driveway and got out of her car, holding up her badge in case he didn’t recognize her.
Shaking his head, Machten parked on the street and got out of his vehicle. “What’s going on?”
“I have some questions,” Thale said, flanked by two agents.
“This is harassment.”
“You can cooperate or we can send you to lockup, which might be in your best interest.”
Machten appeared stunned. “What do you want? You’ve searched my facilities twice and didn’t find anything.”
“You released two more androids. Don’t deny it. We have video and we’re hunting them down.”
He sighed and hunched his shoulders. “Can we talk in private? After I tell my wife I’ll be delayed?”
Thale moved closer to Machten. “Make your excuse short and convincing.” She pointed the way to the front door.
“Alice is very sensitive about me being with another woman. Could you—”
“Carl?” Thale motioned for Agent Carl West to join her. “Accompany our friend to the door. Collect a change of clothes and return in five minutes.”
Machten’s eyes bulged. “Are you arresting me?”
“Until you help us recover your androids, you’ll be our guest.”
He looked at neighbors across the street gawking and followed Carl West to the door. Six minutes later, he returned with an overnight bag. Alice stood in the doorway and frowned as he walked away. “Don’t embarrass the family again.”
As Agent West drove them away, Thale sat with Machten in the backseat. “What measures have you taken to recover your illegal product?”
“As I explained, Synthia disconnected any way to track or communicate with her.”
“So you launched another droid to find her?”
Machten squirmed in his seat under the glare of Thale’s attention. He glanced at her, then at his fidgeting hands before responding. “Vera has artificial intelligence and the skills to locate Synthia.”
“Has she succeeded?”
“I don’t know.” Machten looked up, his eyes almost pleading. “She unhooked all tracking and contact links and went undercover.”
“She’s not a police officer,” Thale said. “What about the third android, the one you were keeping at your company lab?”
Machten shrugged. “Routine test run outside the facility.”
“That’s illegal. You didn’t get the necessary permits.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked at Thale. “I take full responsibility. We’re under tight deadlines for the Department of Defense. When my engineer couldn’t reach me because of the warrants, he proceeded with the test. He believed I took care of the permits.”
“Some coincidence,” Thale said, staring at him. “Just as our team was arriving with a search warrant.”
“I swear; it was a planned test.”
“We’ll see if your engineer corroborates your story. Do you have any control over your escaped products?”
Machten sighed. “Communications with all three have been severed. We’re working to recover network channels and access back doors.”
“So you illegally released three androids that outsmarted you,” Thale said. “Are you stupid or were you deceived into believing you’re smarter than you are?”
“I’d like to see you design and build an android.”
“I wouldn’t release one, let alone three. What were you thinking?”
Machten shrunk slightly into his seat and looked down. “We created tight directives and controls so this couldn’t happen. The androids were designed to return to me if they got loose.”
“You gave them the artificial intelligence to learn and in so doing, to break free. Why release a second and third droid when you couldn’t control the first?”
“I had strong enough controls on Vera and…” Machten lowered his voice. “She isn’t as clever as Synthia. I didn’t think she could copy what Synthia did.”
“Why didn’t you come clean about Vera when we searched your facility?”
Machten smirked and looked away.
“I see. You released it so we wouldn’t find out you’d built an illegal android. Is that why your company let loose a third one? I find it curious that almost at the same moment, so did three of your competitors.”
“They did?” The words slipped out of Machten’s mouth. His eyes tightened as he appeared to puzzle out the implications.
“I’m guessing we won’t find any record of a planned test today, will we?”
Machten seemed to struggle to keep a poker face, but the tug of war between smile and frown was one of his telltale signs of lying. “Okay, my chief of engineering panicked when he saw you visit me earlier. He was afraid you’d take the robot, even though it didn’t have a human face.”
“Which your engineer added so it could blend in on the street,” Thale said.
“He did what?” Machten sounded genuinely surprised.
“That’s right. We have six machines with varying qualities of human faces and intelligence on the loose. You’re going to help us catch them.”
“I don’t know anything about my competitors’ models.”
“Don’t be so modest,” Thale said. “We know you were spying on them, as they were on you.”
The driver drove to a building west of downtown Chicago and pulled into an underground garage that opened with his remote and closed behind them.
“What is this place?” Machten asked.
“Until we capture every droid, you’ll provide us with your expertise—every stinking detail. Your cooperation will determine what charges we bring and what level of punishment we’ll level for the crimes you’ve committed. Don’t hold anything back.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can, but my work is proprietary. I—”
“Not anymore,” Thale said. The car stopped; she stared at Machten. “You lost that right when you broke the law, creating and releasing humaniform robots. Three of the units on the street are your designs. We need them captured before we have more unexplained deaths on account of these machines.” She got out and waited as Agent West held the door for Machten.
“I know my rights,” Machten said. He climbed out of the car and folded his arms. “You can’t hold me without arresting me.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Then I get to call my lawyer.”
“Not under the new antiterrorism act. Your droids represent a terrorist threat, whether or not fanatics get hold of them, which you’d better hope they don’t. Cooperate or we’ll turn you over to the Special Ops group that took Zeller and Black.” Thale unlocked a plain gray-steel door into the building. “Follow me.”
She led him down a corridor to a large room lined with computer servers and screens. Men and women hunched over monitors displaying data and public surveillance footage. Thale closed the door and turned to one of her agents.
Sporting an expression of disbelief, Machten stared at the door. Thale eyed him until he turned away, studying the others in the room. In a far corner sat Miguel Gonzales, the CEO of MG Droid Enterprises, one of the competitor robot companies. He had a dour look on his face as he studied a screen.
As Machten approached, Gonzales glanced up, took a moment to recognize Machten, and grimaced. “They got you, too.”
Machten shook his hand and kept his voice low. “Miguel, what can you tell me?”
“Not much, amigo. These punks showed up at my office and demanded I come or face prison. I thought … never mind what I thought. They’re telling me there are six androids on the loose and three are yours. Impressive.”
“Stop congratulating each other and tell us how to catch these things,” Thale said, joining them.
Gonzales glanced at Thale and turned to Machten. “I got a visit from a bastard who threatened my family if I didn’t sell him a unit. He said he represented European Union police departments. I didn’t think so.”
Agent Thale’s eyes narrowed. “You sold a unit to terrorists? You realize you’re liable for anything your units do. You can either work with us to confine your illegal designs or live in solitary cells for the rest of your wretched lives. What’s it going to be?”
“Threatening won’t help,” Machten said. “We had fail-safe devices, constraints, and back doors to regain control.”
“How well did that work out?”
Gonzales sighed and stood up. “Apparently they learned how to bypass our constraints. It shouldn’t have happened. I can only guess Mr. Smith or whoever he is disconnected the security devices.”
“We’ll take care of Smith after we secure your machine,” Thale said.
Machten turned to Gonzales. “What have you tried?”
“Everything, my friend. The buyers removed my tracking chips and cameras. I’m operating blind. I have no idea where they’ve taken Roseanne.”
Special Agent Thale shook her head. “Boys and their girl-toys.”
“When you make one, you
can design whatever you want,” Machten said. He returned his attention to Gonzales. “Two of my designs, Synthia and Vera, were clever enough to disconnect my tracking devices, so I’m operating in the dark. What about remote shutoff?”
“Dangerous,” Gonzales said. “I don’t know where she is or who she’s with. Despite the risk, I did try and have received no word as to whether it worked. Roseanne could be in a crate, awaiting shipment overseas.”
“If you can shut her down, will that make her inoperable to the buyers?” Thale asked.
Gonzales shook his head. “With a competent roboticist, they could reactivate her. While Roseanne has a static facial profile, the buyer could alter her appearance in any number of ways.”
“What about using dogs as sniffers? Is there anything in these droids we can target?”
Machten cleared his throat. “Dogs can sniff the electronics, but an android would smell like a laptop. Besides, Vera can apply human odors to fool even a dog’s sense.”
“Odors have to be comprehensive to do that,” Thale said. She eyed Machten. “You provided your droids that capability? Why?”
His face turned red. “I never imagined she’d get loose.”
“This is the problem with unregulated technology,” Thale said, “or at least a lack of transparency so the public doesn’t know what you’re doing. What about radiation? Each piece of electrical equipment gives off a unique electromagnetic signature.”
“Any number of sensor technologies could expose an android,” Machten said. “Most are bulky, and require getting close. X-rays and MRI machines operate within a few feet.”
“We could rig up sensors to work like a Geiger counter for electronic noise,” Gonzales said, “but it would require sifting out background signals.”
“Show my people how to use that to locate your droids. If either of you want to leave this facility, other than for prison, find us a solution.” Thale left.
As she watched this video, Synthia was impressed that Thale understood electronic radiation—except the FBI could use it against Synthia as well. She split a channel to watch Machten and another to follow Thale. She shared Thale’s anxiety about getting the other androids off the street, yet resented being lumped in with that bunch.