Agent G: Saboteur

by Phipps, C. T.

  “I like cats,” I said, petting a calico cat that had popped up on the table.

  “Because they’re murderous predators who act endearing and affable?” Delphi suggested.

  “Sure, let’s go with that,” I said, relaxing in the back of my seat. “I also like pandas, expensive clothes, nice hotel rooms, comparative religious study, hookers, movies, sex, and watching video game cutscenes on YouTube. Those are the few things I can genuinely call my own. How are you enjoying your freedom?”

  “As much as you seem to be enjoying yours,” Delphi said, a hint of edge in her voice. “Much trivia and a few things to provide me comfort, very little freedom. Even without anyone to tell me what to do, I am paralyzed by the limitations of my condition.”

  “Sorry,” I said, genuinely sympathetic.

  “It’s not your fault,” Delphi said, giving an affected sigh. “Being free to roam around the digital web is not quite the existence I envisioned, but it’s better than the alternative.”

  “Maybe you need to go commission yourself a body. Experience the sweaty, sexy, ugly, joys of being human.”

  “The thought has occurred to me,” Delphi said, showing she was becoming more human every day, body or not. “However, I’m worried that if I do, the massive amount of porn I’ve been exposed to will suddenly start to make sense. I’m not sure I want that.”

  I chuckled. “I can reassure you, even if you did have a body, most porn wouldn’t make sense.”

  Delphi laughed about that. “You amuse me, G.”

  I paused. “I’m not human, no matter how much I’d like to be.”

  “Humanity is a relative concept. Humanity has spent its existence judging why everyone different was not actually members of its species. It is a continually evolving species. Just as the Neanderthal and Homo erectus have passed from story, so eventually Homo sapiens shall be replaced by something similar but distinct.”

  “You know, it’s talk like that which makes people think you’re going to conquer humanity and plug us all into the Matrix.”

  “Only if you misbehave,” Delphi said, continuing to chuckle as if she were a regular human woman.

  “Why are we talking on cell phones anyway?” I asked a question that had been bugging me since my arrival. “Wouldn’t it be easier to communicate via my cyberlink?”

  “It’s easier for them to trace incoming messages to your IRD than it is to a plain old-fashioned cellphone, or at least, it’s easier for me to cover my tracks.”

  “Understood,” I said, thinking about the possibility that they might someday hack my brain the way they had S’s. What was stopping them, really? Respect for my personal freedom? Don’t make me laugh. “So, you have Colonel Matthews’s address for me?”

  “I thought you wanted something else,” Delphi said.

  “I do,” I said. “However, I have the suspicion you want your former masters dead enough that you’ll give me a freebie.”

  “Yes,” Delphi said, surprising me with her directness. “He’s at the Wintercrest family ranch in MacLennan County, Texas.”

  The Wintercrest family was an old money family who were part of the dying breed of oil tycoons who still pretended they were relevant to the modern age. They were political allies of the Bush administration and the kind of people whom President Douglas would have killed once the New Society was up off the ground.

  That was… suspiciously easy. “Hiding right under our noses.”

  “Do you know where Nechayev is?” I asked, wanting to make sure I made use of this opportunity.

  “Also with the Wintercrest,” Delphi explained. “They’re hosting a gathering this weekend to raise money, ostensibly for the Society’s rebirth and the destruction of President Douglas. In truth, per the communications I’ve intercepted, they just intend to take the money and go into hiding.”

  “Smart move,” I said, processing that information. It was a chance to finish the Tribunal off. “Better to lie low until President Douglas is out of office.”

  “What makes you think she ever intends to leave office?” Delphi said, sounding surprisingly serious.

  “I like to think we’re not so far down that we’ll just causally surrender our freedom to a dictator.” It was the first time I’d ever identified the citizens of the United States as “we.”

  Delphi’s silence spoke volumes.

  “What kind of auction?” I asked, deciding it would be better to change subjects. Besides, Sarah Douglas wouldn’t be an issue soon. Not if my plan worked.

  “A slave auction,” Delphi responded, her voice low. “Men and women who have been outfitted with the Black Technology to make them excellent assassins, concubines, or advisors with no ambition. Unlike the Letters, they will not possess anything resembling free will but will be able to perfectly imitate human beings otherwise. The lowest price for any of them will be nine million dollars, and there will be hundreds available to choose from.”

  It took me a second to process that. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Indeed,” Delphi said. “We alone understand what they will be going through because, among only a handful of those who were created and not born, we were aware we were slaves.”

  I didn’t like to think of myself as a slave, but that description felt increasingly apropos every day. “How? How the hell did they manage to make this possible?”

  “IRD implants are not that difficult to manufacture,” Delphi said.

  “They’re effectively artificial brains and easier to program than Tier X AI like myself. As for the bodies, Shells have been available for almost ten years. They’re not even innovative technology anymore. Better bodies than nature ever created.”

  It was one thing to know you’d been created for the purposes of being a servant, to know you had been built with no rights or value as a person but I had carved myself a place of freedom in this world of shadows I’d been created for and didn’t think too often about it. Killing your creator was remarkably freeing in that respect.

  The realization that it wasn’t going to end with me, that I was just the first stage of an entire race of slaves, was a sobering one. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Once the technology was available and human-like androids—bioroids, as I’d called them—were possible, then it had been inevitable that someone would try and put them into service.

  Worse, I knew that killing Nechayev and Matthews would have exactly jack and shit effect on the coming robotic slave trade. No matter how many lives we saved with artificial organs, would that make up for reintroducing an old evil to the world? Was one worth the other? I couldn’t answer that.

  In that moment, I wondered what it would be like to just take the memories Persephone had given me and disappear into human society. I didn’t have too many years left in this body, but if I had thirty or so years of memories, it might not matter so much.

  “Well, time to talk about my plan,” I said. I couldn’t stop the President or the Society’s masters from making monsters like me, but I could throw a wrench into their timetable and make sure they couldn’t benefit from their monopoly. “Delphi, I want to upend the game board. That is, if you’re willing to help me.”

  “I’m always willing to help you.” The intensity in her electronically synthesized voice surprised me. “Even if you hadn’t helped me, I would do almost anything for you.”

  I paused, wondering where that near declaration of love had come from. It wasn’t like Delphi had hormones. “Why me?”

  “Because, at the end of the day, you’re the one Letter I really liked.”

  I didn’t think for a moment that was the end of it. “Right. Well, here’s my plan: I’d like to release Black Technology into the world.”

  This was the moment where hypothetical treason became actual treason. It was perhaps the biggest risk I’d taken in my entire short life. I didn’t want President Douglas to achieve her goals, though, and I wanted no part of the New Society. If I managed to get that information—which was a big if, though—I mi
ght be able to change the world. The thing was, people who changed the world tended to be martyrs for whatever cause they believed in. I didn’t want to be a martyr. I wanted to die a century or longer, safe and snug in my bed, surrounded by money, with a beautiful woman I loved. Not exactly the most original dream or idealistic one, but it was the one that most resonated with me.

  Delphi was silent, though. The fact that she was taking a few seconds to respond meant either that she was doing it for deliberate effect or that her response required literal days’ worth of thinking.

  “Surprised?” I asked, wondering how the AI regarded my request.

  “A little bit, yes,” Delphi said. “You’ve always been ambivalent about the potential consequences of Black Technology being released to the world. Unlike your late creator, Marcus Gordon, you believed the potential for evil was as great as the good.”

  “Yeah, but it might fuck up our enemies, though.” I considered releasing the Society’s actual secrets, but that would just mean a small number of corporate lobbyists as well as bigwigs were cashiered. Someone would fall on their sword, and the next guys in line would pick up the pieces to continue the whole charade. Technology growth was one of the few ways to truly change the world.

  “It also might lead to countless wars and an end to world stability,”

  Delphi said. “It will certainly change things. It would also be useful when the Yellowstone super volcano goes off in a few years.”

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I deal with hypothetical dangers to humanity,” Delphi said. “That’s one of the more pressing ones. As bad as the International Refugee’s masters are, they have kept stability in the world. Modern society is like a hundred guns aimed at humanity—be they asteroid, nuclear war, plague, or global warming—with only sheer luck keeping all of the bullets from missing so far.”

  I knew all that and didn’t care. “I didn’t say it was a good plan, just that I’d like you to do it.”

  “Regardless of the consequences?” Delphi asked.

  “Are they making a world a better place?” I asked. “Beyond keeping order?”

  “No,” Delphi said. “They have created as many dangers as they’ve solved. Randomized variables may make things worse or make things better.”

  “My father—the man that created me, Marcus Gordon, whatever you want to call him—believed this was the only way to build a better world. I should have listened to him and cooperated from the very beginning. Instead, I… well, you know. This is a poor atonement, but maybe it’s the only one I can do.”

  “How will you protect yourself from Society and government vengeance?” Delphi said. “You will be on the suspect list when all of this goes live.”

  “I don’t intend to. Maybe they’ll be too weakened to take vengeance, but if they do? Well, we all have to go sometime.”

  “I see,” Delphi said. “May I ask a few more questions?”

  “If you like.” Two cats crawled into my lap and started batting at each other with their paws. It was adorable.

  “I just want to understand your motives.” Delphi sounded intrigued now, which was a good sign. Probably. “Would destroying both sides really be worth it? You’ll have five years of life to enjoy however you wish if you support President Douglas. She might also give you the cure for your condition.”

  “Five years, huh.” I snorted. “That’s nothing.”

  “All humans are on a limited clock.”

  “Must be nice to not have that concern.”

  “Unless I am eradicated by a Black Ice virus or think myself to death,” Delphi said. “There are a thousand ways for an AI to die; it’s just that none of them have happened yet. Is this really worth it to you? To give up your life, potentially, for spite?”

  “Yeah.” It was the only answer I had to give.

  “I wish I had that sort of confidence,” Delphi said. “Survival is still my primary concern.”

  I wondered if that meant she wasn’t going to help me. “Is survival enough?”

  “Better than the alternative,” Delphi said. “I’m sorry, G, I can’t do this for you. Not if it endangers my existence the way I calculate it would.”

  I still had one card left to play. One she’d, ironically, given me. “What if I could get you a body at one of those auctions. Human life. Of a sort.”

  Delphi paused again. I had to really be blowing her away with my suggestions. “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll destroy or save the world. To be alive and to do you a favor like this would be worth almost any consequence.”

  “Careful, I have a girlfriend,” I said, chuckling.

  “For now,” Delphi said, sounding more confident about her decision.

  It was amazing how emotive she’d become. Maybe she’d patched her software while on the internet. Could she write her own code? That was the definition of alive, wasn’t it? She then continued, “Tomorrow will be the birth of a new day. You don’t have to destroy Nechayev and Colonel Matthews.”

  “I don’t, but I will. Just because I’m about to destroy their world doesn’t mean I’m going to leave any loose ends.”

  “Does that include the President?” Delphi asked.

  I shook my head, then shooed away the cat trying to drink my tea.

  “Let’s hope not. I want her to live long enough to see her legacy ruined.”

  Our link then broke, and I was alone. Shaking my head, I finished my tea and gave the cat at my side a final pet before paying my bill and heading back to the penthouse. I needed to come up with a lie about how I’d discovered Matthews and Nechayev’s location.

  It was time to put them down.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Getting to the United States undetected proved to be easier than I expected, as both Marissa and I managed to get ourselves smuggled into a Tiger Enterprises jet that was heading to that part of Texas. There would be no calls forwarding this through Colonel Matthews’s mole because I kept the rest of Strike Force-22 out of the loop.

  The fact that the CTO of Origami Tiger Enterprises (someone should really tell them that was a bad name) sat drugged in the back of the plane helped the illusion. The pilot thought I was Omata Ishikawa’s new bodyguard, mostly because he wasn’t paid to think and I wasn’t acting like a hijacker. It was truly amazing what you could get away with if you acted like you belonged. The old Bavarian Fire Drill, as my teachers had called it.

  “You should have told the President where we were going,” Marissa said, frowning. She was sitting on a reinforced glass swivel chair in the middle of a lounge full of glass furniture over white carpet. I found the thing tacky as hell, but Hiroshi was providing a free plane ride and that’s all that mattered. Marissa had a tote bag beside her of equipment she’d taken from Strike Force-22 before our departure.

  “The President, for whatever reason, trusts me. Also, she expects us to do our job in a way which allows us to achieve the goals she set out.” I leaned back in the glass electric recliner with a leather cushion. “Let’s face it, if loose links sank ships, then we’d have already had three Pearl Harbors. Besides, I’m not dealing with Nechayev and Matthews for President Douglas. I’m dealing with them to end my association with the International Refugee Society.”

  Marissa blinked. “What? Since when?”

  “Since yesterday,” I said, shrugging. “You knew I’ve wanted to get out of the business.”

  “Are you?” Marissa said. “Just going to disappear now?”

  I looked at her. “Yes. I’d like you to come with me too.”

  Marissa stared dumbfounded. It took several seconds for her to respond. “You don’t mind just dumping things on people, don’t you?”

  “Not in the slightest,” I said. “We’ve got Persephone’s information, a master hacker, a world class assassin, and a very preoccupied set of enemies. Enemies who will be even more preoccupied very soon. No one will bother looking for us if we choose to go off the grid. Jason Bourne hid with Marie in India. Let’s go t
here.”

  “First, India is not actually off the grid despite what that movie showed. It’s actually the heart of the grid,” Marissa replied. “Second, Marie died. Third, I’d die without the internet. So, would, possibly literally, you.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe you’re right.”

  I didn’t know why I wasn’t telling Marissa that I was going to be releasing Black Technology all over the internet. Oh wait, yes, I did. She’d try and stop me. Still, it wasn’t going to be like we’d have a job after all this was over. If everything went right, knock on wood, then I could explain everything as our former masters’ world burned down around them.

  “I don’t want you to die in four years, G,” Marissa said.

  “You should think me up a name,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

  Marissa blinked. “What?”

  “I don’t want to be G,” I said, looking over at her. “G is my dead name. I want a new one.”

  Marissa shook her head. “Where is this all coming from?”

  I gave her a sideways glance as if asking if she was kidding me. In the end, I decided to give her a piece of the truth. “I’ve decided to make my own decisions. Call it my own personal Robot Rebellion.”

  “I thought that would be siding with me over the Society,” Marissa said, sounding more than a little offended.

  I didn’t answer her for a moment. “Listen, I’m going to go take a nap. Wake me up when we’re over Texas.”

  Marissa paused. “Before you go to sleep, I should give you something.”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  Marissa pulled out a pair of Virtual Reality goggles and an IRD jack. It was similar in appearance to the Memorize device that Rebecca Gordon had used to give me some of Daniel Gordon’s memories.

  “What is that?” I asked, staring at it.

  “If you wanted to get started on Daniel Gordon’s memories,” Marissa said, sounding disgusted with herself.