The Master Key

by T. K. Toppin

  “Jane.”

  Simon blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mwenye unlocked a narrow cabinet with a palm-print scan. He pulled out a small flat device much like the Slide personal unit. He placed in onto his open palm and offered it to Simon, who just stared at it.

  “Meet Jane,” Mwenye said. “I made her myself, using the shell of an old personal. It has droid circuitry but runs free and independent of any network. Meaning, she is not attached to the mainframe, nor is she registered to any network, or detectable or traceable. But she can source anything you want and leave no a trail. There are a few out there like this one, but I’ve made my own modifications. She is like a brain. Jane stores all my sensitive data; she holds many secrets.” With an audible intake of air, Mwenye gave Simon a serious look. “I’ll put her into your care,” he handed it over. “Now, you and I are the only ones who know of Jane.”

  Simon drew his mouth into a line. “Then you’ve left me no choice but to guard her with my life.”

  * * *

  Simon sat in his quarters, a small room assigned to him in a sort of hospitality suite he shared with his team. The faux chicken dinner he’d ordered lay nearby, barely eaten, since he’d spent half the time talking with his team and organizing strategies, the other half staring at Jane with suspicion.

  He glanced yet again at Jane. She looked like any other personal unit. It was smart of Mwenye to disguise such a device in plain sight, but foolish to depend on a machine to keep all his secrets.

  He’d known there were devices like this, used mostly by criminals and terrorists. Tinkerers, the do-it-yourself buffs, the wannabe scientists and engineers, were the ones who made and used these independent droids and computers. The devices came in all shapes and sizes, from the said personal units to television sets, even innocuous toys for children or existing service droids.

  Simon hadn’t pegged Mwenye to be one of them, a tinkerer. Still, it took all types, and he was known for his technical abilities.

  He wondered what the outcome would be if all droids ran independently. The idea didn’t give him a good feeling. Mwenye had assured him Jane was completely safe. Once her “off” switch was engaged, she was off. And she was designed strictly for storage and information, and limited communication functions.

  It brought to mind some silly science fiction movie Josie sometimes blathered on about, where the robots took over the world and their “brains” developed like human brains, giving them feelings and emotions. The sudden urge to fling Jane to the floor and smash her to pieces grabbed him. Instead, he thrust her back into his pocket with considerable force.

  His own personal unit buzzed, making him uncharacteristically jump in shock.

  Yanking it out, he barked, “What?” Seeing John’s surprised face, he relaxed.

  “Things not going well?” John pushed up a brow.

  “I thought you were…someone else.” Simon ran a hand over his face in annoyance.

  Frowning, John regarded his friend with amusement. “How goes it?”

  Simon filled him in, omitting the part about Jane, but making sure John knew there were things that needed discussing over a more secure network. Using their secret sign language, he tapped his chin and John acknowledged by tugging his earlobe. “And you? How is the girl? And Josie?”

  John snorted with something like mild discomfort. “I think I’ve upset Josie.”

  “What did you do now?” Simon sighed. John still had a lot to learn about the politics of marriage. He listened while his friend explained, and tried to suppress a chuckle.

  “John, John, John.” Weariness touched his words. “Go tell her you’re sorry, that you didn’t mean anything by it. She’ll understand you were being objective. Eventually.”

  “But I think I’ve hurt her feelings. You didn’t see the look she gave me.” John’s brow furrowed with guilt. “I understand her need to want a connection, a sense of belonging. I understand that. But she’s going in blind. And if it turns out to be all a hoax…she’ll be devastated.”

  “Did you tell her that? Just like how you told me? No, of course you didn’t. What was I thinking?”

  John’s response was a glower, then a resigned sigh. “She walked away before I could even open my mouth again. I think she’s already decided that Margeaux is her niece.”

  “Shit,” Simon replied, as Josie would’ve done.

  “Exactly.” John scratched his head in annoyance. “Aline’s still not been able to free herself. I need her in Iceland to get confirmation. It just does not feel right.”

  “I know the feeling. There’s something not quite right about this whole thing. It’s been bothering me. If Ho wants to take over the world using the droids and, say, create his own droid army, what will that achieve in the long run, other than make us redundant?”

  “It will make him the most powerful and feared man on earth. Do the power-hungry need a reason?” John pursed his lips. “It might also be that he’s got some new technology he wants to embed in the droids.”

  “Mmm. So why, then, this whole elaborate scheme to get back the code? Even if he’d lost it, he could have just come and blasted his way onto this station and taken it by force. Why give us the upper hand, alert us, by practically telling us what code he wants? I don’t get it.”

  “You think this is all smoke? He has something else planned?”

  “I think a lot of things.” Simon gave him a look to suggest they’d already spoken too much over the networks. John covered a nod with a hand that ran over his cheek, as though to check for stubble.

  “Keep in touch, old friend.” Using the coded language they’d created, John meant they would next use their own rogue network to communicate—every two hours.

  “You too, friend. Now go find your loved one and give her a kiss—from me.” Understood, stay close, be ready, be armed.

  Grinning, Simon signed off and pulled Jane out again.

  Chapter 15

  For unexplainable reasons, I found myself ambling toward Adam’s quarters. The conversation with Margeaux left me itching to talk to someone other than my husband. I didn’t trust myself to be alone right now. Knowing Adam had a more sympathetic ear, and also to compose my thoughts and feelings and stave off the ever-present urge to hit John, I turned the last corner and wandered in the direction of Adam’s secluded room.

  John is only being protective, a little voice inside my head nagged. In that cool and dispassionate way of his! And insulting. And cold. And uncaring. And—damn him!

  And Margeaux. Thinking of the girl rattled me, unnerved me. I was convinced now, more than ever, that Margeaux was indeed my niece. How could she not be?

  I had to admit, though, Margeaux had a way of making me uncomfortable. Exactly how, I didn’t know. Was it because she was a strange child who spoke as if she were years older, or was it that I was foolishly allowing myself to believe Margeaux was my niece, which I wanted so badly I’d gone in with blinkers on and was convincing myself it was so? Or was I was just disgusted by the fact I was an ancient ancestor—a relic—come to this future, and meeting her descendant? It sounded sick and wrong, even to me. And I couldn’t forget the flash of distaste on Margeaux’s face when she discovered how old I really was.

  In a normal world—life—these things didn’t usually happen. But what part of my life was normal?

  So, yes. How could Margeaux not be related to me? She was my niece. Just look at her.

  I felt it, knew it. It had to be so. It may have been centuries, and any number of possibilities might have occurred, but the chances were so great, especially when I didn’t know for certain the fate of my brother and his family. The missing gap that connected everything, that first century, still remained a mystery.

  And who knew how many more relatives I had wandering around, unsuspectingly, in this future? After all, I had had cousins. The thought disturbed me to no end. I’d even asked John to trace back his own family tree, just to make sure I wasn’t going to end up m
arrying a relative. To be certain, I’d even asked Simon, Trudi, and Rand to do the same for no other reason than to settle my mind. I’d thought for sure Simon would laugh out and call me a silly fool, but he’d complied without a word and assured me he was no relation.

  A fretful sigh spilled out of me as I continued walking, head down, staring hard at the path before me. By the time I’d cleared the security droid and reached Adam, it was very late in the afternoon. Hunger bit me hard. I’d missed lunch—again. I walked straight into his room, and froze.

  Walking in unannounced has its drawbacks. Adam sat on his terrace, idly picking his nose and staring off into the distance. He rolled the extracted boogers meditatively between his fingers before flicking them over the rail.

  Gross!

  To spare us both the mortification, I pretended to hook my sleeve on the doorframe. I made enough noise and expletives to alert the dead.

  “Ah, Josie.” Adam called out with a cheery brightness. “A pleasant surprise, as always.”

  “Hey.” I was relieved to see him composed and standing, and tried not to stare at his fingers. For an obsessive-compulsive, he didn’t seem to have any qualms about touching his own boogers. For once, I was glad he didn’t like to touch other people.

  “You look tired. Come sit down.” He offered me a chair. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” I sat with a relieved groan. It felt good to sit, and I wondered how long I’d been on the move. Too long to remember.

  The late afternoon shadows streaked across the mountainside, the pine trees, like majestic giants, cast golden glints of light everywhere. It was a sheer drop from the terrace, and only a lunatic would dare look down.

  Adam chuckled, watching me closely with that blasted all-seeing Lancaster inspection. “You’ve come to pick my brain.”

  “Pick what? I have not,” I answered with a start, still thinking of boogers. “Can’t I come for a simple visit?”

  “Josie.” He steepled his fingers under his chin, and his eyes half closed as if in meditation. “You’ve seen me three consecutive days so far. Normally I only see you every few days. What troubles you?”

  I returned his inspection of me. After a moment, I cleared my throat. “Adam…” I paused to compose my thoughts, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but since you were present yesterday when Ho, well…I’m sure you realize, and wondered, that I’m not really as young as I appear to be.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I did wonder. In fact, I’ve always wondered. There’s always been a sort of strange manner with you. Can you tell me? How old you really are?”

  I smiled with unease. “I’d rather not say. But old comes to mind.”

  He didn’t press me further, but his expression, a smug, self-satisfied look, said that one day he would find out. He sat considering something, and I pictured his intricate brain working over it with detail.

  When he spoke, it was as if he was clairvoyant. “You believe, then, this Margeaux could in fact be your long-lost niece. And it bothers you because you want it to be so.”

  “Umm, yes,” I shifted in my seat. “Is that so wrong? I mean, she could be—well, I’m certain she is. My niece. But…”

  “But John is being careful. Wary. He is quite right to be. I would advise it myself.”

  Annoyed, I glared back. “Am I so transparent?”

  “Josie. It’s only natural. You’re human. And humans have feelings and wants. And we care.”

  “I do care—that’s it. I care. And…he cares.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, realization washing over me. And guilt. He cared enough, more than enough, to be able to see things with untainted eyes. To see and think things out clearly, so I wouldn’t have to see or bear, even feel.

  Of course he cared. He was John. And I was an idiot!

  “And you thought John did not. He does. Especially for you.”

  I laughed. “I get it. He’s being objective for me since I can’t be. I get it, I get it.”

  “But that’s not all, is it?”

  “No.” I leaned back and stared out at the view, aware of Adam’s gaze as he studied my profile. He waited for me to speak again. “All this talking and remembering of family is making me so homesick. I miss them. For me, it was just like yesterday when I last saw them, when actually they’ve been gone a long, long time. And then to see Margeaux, the way she looks at me, looking so much like my brother’s children… It just brings it all back. It hurts, in here,” I pressed a hand to my chest. “Really, really hurts. And…it’s her. I know it’s her. She’s mine. I can’t explain it. She is who she says she is. I know she is.”

  Tears stung my eyes, a flood ready to burst forth, but I swallowed it down with force.

  As if unable to bear seeing me so sad, Adam lowered his eyes. He would’ve touched me, maybe, but he couldn’t. So he sat where he was and looked away.

  “Josie,” his tone was quiet. “Go to John. You need him. And he, you.”

  I smiled, but it hurt my face to do so. “I will. But…not yet. He’s being so John about everything. And I might just end up hitting him.”

  Adam gave me a warm smile and changed the subject. “Tell me, if you can. Has the girl been saved? And the code, it’s been handed over?”

  What did it matter if he knew? He was a part of this, after all.

  “Yes.” I decided to omit the part about the switch. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Of course not,” he winked conspiratorially. “So, it looks to me that Ho wishes to take control of the droids. How very interesting. You know, until now, I never thought him to be much interested in things like that. He has only ever been interested in making money—nothing more. To him, money is power.”

  “Some would say that about you.” I risked a cheeky tone and got a crafty smile in return. “You don’t think he means to take over the world with the droids?”

  He thought a moment. “I think he means to hold the droids as ransom. Whoever has ultimate control over them can ask for whatever he wants.”

  “He could ask for the world, you mean?”

  Adam laughed. “Yes, he could.”

  “Why droids? Why not something more in line with what he’s good at, like making money?”

  “Maybe he’s got some new technology. There are many illegal forms of tech that, if one were allowed to use and implement them, well…” he pursed his lips. “Furthermore, if he held the droids as ransom to sell to the highest bidder, once the deal is done, he’d lose them to someone else. Not likely. No, he would not go that route. My bet is technology. Something that will bring money in repeatedly and with assured consistency.”

  “Then it must be that. Why then would he concentrate solely on droid technology?” I pursed my lips as well.

  “There are many private individuals who would pay through their noses to be able to manufacture certain forms of tech. If someone who did not have scruples or were, say, not law-abiding enough to care, then…” He shrugged, but the way he blinked meant his thoughts were careening.

  “And if one person controlled this technology, he could ask for whatever he wanted to produce whatever he was paid to produce. There’d be no limits, whatsoever. The world would be littered with scary stuff just ready to jump out and bite you on the ass.”

  “Absolutely.” Adam nodded with appreciation. “And he could use the droids to keep the masses in line. Make sure a certain pecking order was established, so to speak.”

  I shuddered. “Don’t droids ever make you feel, I don’t know, uneasy?”

  “Were you not yet born when droid technology came about?” Adam raised a brow, no doubt in hopes it would prompt me back to my secret past.

  “Hmm? Umm, not quite.” I didn’t bite. Instead, I changed the subject. “What sort of technology is considered illegal?”

  “There are many,” Adam replied with a sigh. “For instance, there’s the—”

  “I thought I’d find you here.” John spoke from behind us. His tone low. Caut
ious.

  I jumped in surprise; Adam just twitched.

  “What are you doing here?” Irritation made me snap.

  Leveling his eyes to me, John gave me a cool stare with a hint of annoyance. “I could ask the same of you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough.” He watched me until I started to squirm. “Adam makes an intriguing point. His reasoning is very close to what I’ve been speculating. The Scrap Yard is, in a sense, a world of its own. And with the droids under Ho’s sole control, it could be guarded effectively while he made his demands from now until the end of days. Every cybernetic device known to man is manufactured there. With the sole claim to its production and distribution, Ho could make a literal killing. And make whatever he wanted—for a price.”

  Adam made a show of bowing while he sat; pleased he was right.

  “Come with me,” John spoke to me and, with some reluctance, offered his hand. “Loeb says you need to respond to a question.”

  “What—why? I thought I was done with all that.” Just my fucking luck! I stood, ignoring the offered hand. I saw John take in a breath and withdraw his hand, tucking it neatly behind his back as he lowered his head with a scowl. “Why can’t he just make up a response like he usually does?”

  “He said it was preferable that you respond in person, so he could formulate a proper response, knowing your true feelings on the matter.” John spoke as if his teeth hurt.

  Was there a double meaning in that statement? I huffed in annoyance. “Fine.” With an airy tone, I brushed past him. “See you, Adam.”

  “Good evening to you, Josie. Come visit again.” Adam rose and waved back.