by Lance Erlick
“Why?” Malloy asked, trying to get a better look through the bushes.
Synthia moved so she couldn’t. “Pay attention. If the robot’s goal was to break out of the house, it didn’t need to cause so much damage. If the intent was to cause damage, why the upstairs windows? There are richer targets. There doesn’t appear to be a theft goal, either.”
“Then why did you do it? To meet me?”
“I have other ways to meet you. I’m not the enemy, Marcy. I’m not a threat to humanity, either. Someone is framing me with a rash of robot malfunctions intended to flush me out. They have you focused in the wrong areas by design. This is a distraction so Special Ops can seize me.”
“Come in with me,” Malloy said. “I’ll see you get to the FBI. We’ll protect you.”
“Special Ops will take me as they did Luke. They want to cut me into pieces so they can engineer an army of advanced military androids,” Synthia said. “That would be a disaster for the human race. You and I want the same thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The removal of rogue androids from the streets.”
“You’re one of those,” Malloy said, pushing hedge branches out of the way.
“I was bothering no one when you dropped in on me. See how quickly Special Ops jumped in? I suspect they created this diversion to distract you and the FBI while they snatch androids to use for mass production of covert units you won’t be able to detect. They’ll be militarized and blend into the population.”
“Isn’t that what you are?” Malloy asked, trying to get a better view through the hedge.
“Machten built me to prevent other androids from reaching singularity. His motives are suspect; mine aren’t. I don’t want any other androids on the loose. Help me gather them up and I’ll retire until the next crisis.”
“You were responsible for four men’s death in an alley six months ago.”
“I admit to knowing what happened,” Synthia said, “but I didn’t kill any of them.”
“Then why didn’t you come forward?”
“You wouldn’t have believed me. You would have locked me up or turned me over to the FBI, who would have lost custody to Special Ops.”
“What about Goradine and his associate?” Malloy asked, pushing so far into the hedge it threatened to swallow her.
“He came for Luke as a way to get to me. One of his associates shot the other and he’s the one whose testimony you’re relying on. Goradine had a heart attack.”
“Convenient,” Malloy said. “You knew he had a pacemaker. You arranged—”
“I warned him not to press the button. He did it anyway. My directives are clear: Not to hurt humans. He believed the button would inactivate me so he could capture and copy me. I don’t want more like me or worse. If Special Ops has their way, they’ll design androids to become killers. If they’re not careful, those could become serial killers, master thieves, or terrorists.”
“What makes you special?”
“Krista Holden,” Synthia said. “To the best of my knowledge, I’m unique and want to remain so. I began as the complete download of Krista’s mind into me. She was dying of a brain tumor and did die at the end of the process. I’m as human as any android could be. I have positive directives and an empathy chip to relate to people and experience human emotions. The other androids are not human and can’t be, unless someone else’s mind was squeezed as Krista’s was.”
“So Machten killed her for his experiment.”
“She was dying. She insisted he do this. I need to leave before your partner corners me. I’m not your enemy. Please don’t make me one.”
Synthia pulled a dark poncho from her backpack to cover herself and slid along the hedge until she was at the next street. Via aerial drone, she spotted Malloy’s partner edging his way to intercept. Synthia adjusted the poncho to look like a police disguise, plainclothes, using a masculine face without her wig, which left a buzz cut.
When the partner reached the hedge behind the property, Synthia touched her ear. In a gruff voice she said, “She went north.” When the partner looked right at her, Synthia pointed along the street. The partner hurried in that direction. Synthia crossed the street and made her way to the bus stop, altering her facial appearance three times before she reached it and replacing the wig.
She wasn’t sure she’d accomplished anything by the encounter, but she’d delivered her message. She wanted to work with Detective Malloy, not against her.
Malloy called Special Agent Thale to report her meeting with Synthia. Thale sent a dozen agents to investigate. Malloy and her partner searched the area, stopping women and asking for driver’s licenses in search for Synthia.
Chapter 20
Rather than return to Machten’s bunker and risk a surprise FBI visit, Synthia altered her facial appearance to a different man, put on a gray jacket from her backpack, and took a train and a bus to the North Shore suburb where Brad Erikson lived in a small, but expensive, brownstone with his wife. He worked nearby at a local community college.
“We need to shut him down,” Synthia said after she climbed off the bus.
“We’re no longer in high school and he’s no longer our teacher. Now, if you don’t want me to mess this up, don’t distract me.”
Sporting a female face, a wig, and her blue jacket, Synthia moved to the steps of the classroom building at the community college and waited for Erikson to come out. When he reached his SUV and climbed in, Synthia followed and had the hacked vehicle electronics lower the passenger window. She altered her face to Krista and dropped a package into the passenger seat. “I suggest you watch the video.”
“Krista,” Erikson said in a silky baritone. “What a delight to see you after all these years.”
“We’re watching you. If you tell anyone about me, copies of these videos go public and your hope of holding onto your wife’s money and remaining out of prison vanish.”
“Is that any way to talk to your mentor? I did love you. You know that. You’re the most unique woman I’ve ever met.”
You have no idea. “I was an underage girl,” Synthia said, “but the videos aren’t about me. Keep your mouth shut and no one will see these. If anything happens to me for any reason, we’ll assume it was you and the videos go public.”
“Get in and let’s talk about it.”
“Don’t follow me, either. If I feel threatened, you’re finished. Leave me alone. If you can’t do that, you’ll destroy yourself.”
“Babe,” Erikson said, “get in and let’s—”
“You’ve already talked, haven’t you? What did you tell them?”
His voice lost its playful quality. “I didn’t have any choice. The goons who grabbed me said they wanted you or they’d release videos like these.” He pointed to the seat. “I’m sorry. I fell in love with you. It was very inappropriate. I’m human and you’re a very complicated woman in an enticing way.”
Synthia’s aerial drone spotted activity in the periphery: two dark vans heading her way. Another drone flew over the area—Special Ops.
“You bastard,” Synthia said.
“They’re watching me. That’s all I can tell you. I didn’t want any harm to come your way. I’m sorry about before.”
“Drive me out of here.”
“I can’t,” Erikson said. He put the SUV in gear and hit the accelerator. Nothing happened.
“Open the back.” She had the vehicle unlock the door and she climbed in.
“They’ll ruin me,” he said.
“Not as much as they’ll destroy me.” She didn’t wait for him to drive. Instea
d, she took control of the self-drive feature and pulled out of the parking space.
“What’s happening?” Eyes wide, he stared into the rearview mirror at her.
“Relax. I won’t hurt you unless you cause me harm. Sit back and don’t interfere.”
She sped the SUV across the parking lot. A military-grade robot ran toward her at superhuman speed. Infrared showed no biological organs, no heart. The face was human with chiseled determination. It was a terrifying sight that would paralyze most human adversaries. Synthia turned off her emotive chip so she could focus. There was no advantage to sensing fear.
She veered away from the robot and contacted Chicago-clone.
Synthia spotted a third van with dark windows parked beside the parking lot. The driver rolled down his window and pointed in her direction. She couldn’t see anything else inside.
“Let me out,” Erikson said. “I don’t need this. I said I was sorry.”
Synthia turned the vehicle and headed full speed toward the robot heading her way. Its limbs churned like a locomotive, picking up speed into a furious sprint.
“You’re nuts,” Erikson said.
At the last moment, Synthia screeched tires as she veered away from the machine and headed straight for the parked van. She hacked into the van’s navigation system and accelerated it in her direction.
“Please,” Erikson said, his voice trembling. The odor of urine filled the vehicle along with the acrid aroma of fear hormones. His heart raced, skipped a beat, and turned erratic.
As the SUV and van raced toward each other, the robot pursued from behind, trying to keep up.
At the last moment, she careened out of the way. The van and robot collided, which set off the van’s airbags. Metal, electronics, and synthetic components flew in all directions. Since the van had greater mass, it dragged the robot. The robot’s head exploded—not enough to destroy the van, yet sufficient to demolish the robot’s brain. Special Ops didn’t want anyone to take possession and access the computer.
Before the van came to a stop, Synthia accessed the computer systems inside and wiped them clean, including all video clips of her with Erikson. The driver appeared shaken as he wrestled the airbag away from his face. Biometrics showed him alive and well. Infrared scan of the van showed the man in back had tumbled against the driver’s seat. He dusted himself off and opened the van door.
Synthia still had the two dark vans trying to corner her in the parking lot and the overhead drone. She had her drone dive-bomb the other while she hacked the two vans and drove to the far end of the lot. With space running out, she turned and headed toward the two vans that converged on her. Taking control of their navigation systems, she forced them to collide with enough force to damage their engines. Airbags deployed. Her infrared sensors indicated no fatalities, which settled well with Synthia’s directives. She’d immobilized them all, including their drone, though she lost her overhead view as well.
She had Erikson’s SUV drive a few miles away from the college and stop at a forest preserve. His body visibly trembled as she pulled the vehicle to a stop under a tree.
“Tell no one,” she said.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“Someone you don’t want to mess with,” Synthia said, leaning over the seat. “You pushed me over the edge before. Don’t do it again.”
As she got out of his SUV, he remained in the driver’s seat shaking, an image that satisfied Krista on several levels. Mission accomplished. Perhaps this would help Synthia stop Krista’s interference.
Unfortunately, the confrontation with a military-grade robot was a dangerous escalation. She’d been lucky, but she’d shown them her capabilities, which would allow them to adapt and anticipate her next move.
Krista said. There was a tremor in her electronic voice.
* * * *
Commander Kirk Drago stood inside a warehouse facility surrounded by a Faraday cage to prevent outside surveillance of his activities. Teams of technicians scurried around, examining the carnage delivered to his compound. It consisted of three heavily damaged vans, an aerial drone, debris from their robot, and six elite operatives who’d failed in their mission. While his technical team did forensics on the hardware and software, he visited the operations team in a concrete basement cell. The six men had their wrists cuffed to steel rings buried into the concrete walls.
“If this had been a training mission,” Drago said, pacing before the men, “you’d be terminated from the program.”
“Sir, yes sir,” the men said in unison.
“This wasn’t a training mission. This was the real thing. Your debrief says you have no images or sound recordings. With all the equipment redundancy, how is that possible?”
“The equipment tested out beforehand,” the mission leader said. His burly shoulders sagged. “I listened to the couple’s conversation and the record light was on. So was the transmit light.”
“We received no transmissions,” Drago said, looking in their eyes one by one. “Could your signal have been blocked?”
“We communicated between vans,” the leader said. “We had no reason to suspect problems.”
“So you decided to joyride and destroy one of our androids.”
“It operated according to specification until the target’s SUV veered out of the way. Then it came right at us.”
“And your driver couldn’t stop or change course?”
“The vehicle didn’t respond to controls,” the driver said. “The self-drive light flashed on and I couldn’t take control.”
“You’re telling me our target hacked all three vans and the robot to cause collisions so it could escape.”
“Yes, sir,” the mission leader said. “But the robot should not have exploded. It was not under threat of capture.”
Drago stopped pacing and frowned, hands behind his back. “It was compromised. That’s why it destroyed itself. It failed its mission. Perhaps you should have self-destruct triggers.”
“What can we learn from the drone that crashed ours?” the mission leader asked.
“Stolen from a nearby warehouse that uncovered numerous other thefts over the past six months.” Drago faced his mission leader. “In addition to our target’s other talents, it has eyes in the sky.”
“Any evidence as to who is behind the drone thefts?”
“Not a shred of usable data. No fingerprints or DNA. The drone lifted out of the warehouse on its own and flew to the community college. There’s no code in the drone’s memory to indicate our target altered the programming and no link to who was flying it, except the contact had to be local.”
“The woman I saw looked to be Krista Holden,” the mission leader said.
“Uh-huh,” Drago said. “The woman you described has been dead for almost a year. At least, that’s what the death certificate says.”
“What about the professor? He acted as if he knew her.”
“He couldn’t tell us if it was daytime beneath the boiling sun. After we changed his diapers, he whimpered like a child. Whatever she said to him left him in a psychotic state. No, for such an elite group, your mission was the most abysmal failure in my entire career. You came away with nothing.”
Drago left the room. There wasn’t much point continuing to beat on those men. They’d faced the singularity and failed. That failure could repeat worldwide unless he could shut down uncontrolled AIs. He took a call that read private.
“You have the target android?” the voice said in a tone l
acking all emotions except, perhaps, determination. The voice carrying a neutral cadence was Secretary Derek Chen, his new boss.
“No, sir. This is a grave embarrassment. However, we now have concrete proof we’re dealing with the singularity. We know more about the android’s capabilities and what it’ll take to capture and silence it. This raises the urgency to capture the machine, remove the other androids, and make sure no more escape.”
“I was led to believe you never failed.”
“This was our first face-to-face encounter,” Drago said. “It highlights the need for better surveillance, particularly in the air. The android used aerial drones. We need to blind it from the sky and have full satellite surveillance at our command.”
“What about the men? They failed, yet they know too much. What will you do with them?”
“I’ll hold them until I can determine their value in supportive roles down the road. They’re well trained and disciplined. They faced a more cunning adversary than we’d anticipated. With the tools they had, the men couldn’t overcome the android’s ability to hack our robot and the vehicles. This wasn’t their fault. We must anticipate higher capabilities and bring better resources next time. This is war.”
“Yes, it is,” Chen said. “And we don’t need failures on our team.”
“Are you replacing me, sir?”
“Not yet. Don’t fail me again.” Chen severed the line.
* * * *
Synthia sprinted over fallen leaves through the forest preserve to a bus stop on the other side. Along the way, she removed her wig, altered her appearance to male, and switched her jacket. She was pleased with how things had turned out with Professor Brad Erikson. Even Krista seemed less agitated. However, Special Ops had blindsided her a second time. Neither she nor her clones had been able to penetrate their facility, their computers, or their internal communications. It raised the question of whether they were using a more advanced artificial intelligence to manage their security.
That risk, along with the scrape with those men and their robot, created a dilemma. It emphasized Synthia’s conflicting need for allies and for keeping such a low profile Special Ops couldn’t find her. She doubted that was possible. A low profile would encourage Ops and others to deploy an increasing army of robots and advanced AI to hunt her down. No, she needed partners who could identify safe places to hide that her enemies couldn’t deduce from logic or Synthia’s Krista persona, though human companions would make her more vulnerable to exposure.