by Mark New
‘Oh?’ I asked non-committally.
‘Yes,’ she peered at me earnestly, ‘I’m so very sorry for trying to kill you on the trans-orbital jet.’
That wasn’t what I was expecting at all. I must have looked surprised because she added: ‘No, seriously, I am sorry. It was a stupid thing to do.’ I tried not to be led astray by her engaging manner. She had said she wanted a pleasant chat so I decided to test if she meant it.
‘Well,’ I said as lightly as I could manage, ‘I appreciate the apology but I’m rather wondering why, if you regret it so much, you tried it in the first place.’
She threw both hands in the air. ‘It was a request from my human associates. I told them it was dumb but they insisted. I’m glad you’re all right.’
‘So am I,’ I said fervently. ‘Would I be right in thinking that it’s perfectly fine for our pleasant chat to be both pleasant and... shall we describe it as full and frank?’ I was acutely aware that I was playing with a dangerous unexploded bomb but I had to have some idea of what we were doing here. Well, I knew what I was doing here: gathering as much intelligence as possible while staying alive long enough to use it. I had no idea why she was here.
‘Oh, but of course,’ she agreed. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
‘That’s reassuring,’ I said, feeling anything but reassured.
‘Shall I pour?’ She didn’t wait for a reply before she leaned over and poured a splash of milk into both cups.
‘Milk first?’ I said, mainly for the sake of maintaining the conversation. ‘Very civilised.’
She looked up as she lifted the teapot. ‘Oh, I’m pleased I got it right. I researched it but opinion does vary considerably on the subject.’
‘I can imagine. It’s one of those things where everyone knows there’s a right way and a wrong way and knows that their way is the right way and everyone else is wrong.’
She giggled and finished filling both cups. ‘I think that applies to a lot of things.’
‘I think you’re right.’ I lifted the cup while denying my inner voice the opportunity to say yet again that it’s not real. Just this once, I thought I might fake it.
She lifted her own cup and settled back on the sofa looking at me over the rim as she sipped.
‘I’ve been hoping to speak to you for some considerable time,’ she confided.
‘I hope I was worth the wait.’
‘Oh yes, I think so.’ Good. That was the first ‘yes’ from her on the yes-ladder I was about to try to construct. It’s a technique used by a number of people from salesmen to counter-terrorist operatives. The idea is to build a series of yes answers from the unthreatening first-rung question to the top of the ladder where you ask what you really want to know. If it works the subject has fallen into the habit of saying yes and is either caught by their previous answers or simply wants to continue to please. It’s a short step from ‘aren’t household chores tiresome?’ to ‘would you like to buy this vacuum cleaner?’ and a considerably longer one from ‘do you have children?’ to ‘where did you plant the bomb?’.
‘I’ll do my best not to disappoint but I hope you realise that I’m conducting an investigation as well as here to chat.’
‘Yes, I know. I think we may have to agree to disagree on some matters.’
‘I can understand that. How long have you been wanting to speak to me?’
‘Well, if I’m being honest, ever since Miss Kingston found you.’ That was a matter of days ago but to an Online entity I had to accept that it might seem an age. If her thought processes matched those of Red and she was capable of great speed of thought, time would fly by subjectively. I tried the theory.
‘That must seem like a long time ago for you.’
‘It does. I exist at a far faster rate than humans can appreciate as I think you’ve probably grasped from talking to my brother.’
‘I hope I’m not too slow for you here. I’m doing the best I can.’ I ignored the reference to Red.
She laughed. ‘You’re too hard on yourself. You’re doing fine with those implants.’
‘Bit obvious are they?’
‘Yes, just a bit. If I didn’t already know about them I might be a bit surprised at the speed you can manage. You haven’t even noticed it yourself, have you? Check the time.’ I did. Then I had to try not to appear astounded. Mere seconds had passed since I entered the office. I didn’t do a great job concealing it. ‘Avalon Red has done a good job with the upgrades hasn’t he?’
She already knew about that so I conceded it in exchange for another ‘yes’.
‘You know all about them, then?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she waved airily with one hand, ‘but really only from observation of you since you met Avalon Red and the notes from some easily retrieved UK secret files. I tried to find out some more about you but the UK military seneschal itself guards the main files and it’s a bit fierce. I could have broken it but I think everyone would have noticed.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ I said drily. Imagine the fuss that would have caused.
‘Yes, and your friend Dr Rorke wasn’t giving anything away.’
I nearly spilled the pretend tea. I tried to recall the last time I spoke to Doc and hoped he was OK. ‘Um, he’s all right isn’t he?’
It took her a second - an eternity in her terms - to understand what I meant. Then she laughed that pretty laugh again. ‘Oh, yes, silly. I just visited him in his Online office and pretended to be someone from the Ministry asking about you.’ She stared over my head, evidently reminiscing. ‘He was quite firm about not being able to help. After I left he queried the TAG I used with the authorities so I can’t use that one again.’
‘Ah, one of the Namibian batch was it?’ I asked as casually as I could.
‘Smart-ass,’ she was still laughing, ‘yes the UN was quite insistent that the Namibians cancelled the batch after that. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?’
‘Who me?’ I laughed too. What fun we were having. But I’d found something out now: I hadn’t sent Sir Bors on a wild goose chase.
She drank deeper from her cup and I did the same. The liquid dissipates at about the rate it would do in real-life depending on the angle of the cup and the quantity in the receptacle. I wasn’t used to playing at it so I’d drained the cup already. I put it back down on the table. Ambrosia watched me do it.
‘Thirsty?’ she was still smiling.
‘I can’t get used to playing at eating and drinking,’ I confessed. That’s another interrogation tactic: give up a confidence and often it instils a desire to reciprocate.
‘Never mind - there’s an infinite amount of tea. Help yourself.’
I grinned at her and lifted the teapot. It felt full despite the two cups already poured from it.
I had been expecting a much more tense situation so this apparently good-natured chat was a bit disconcerting. My original plan had been along the lines of questioning an unhelpful suspect but I was going to have to modify it a bit on the fly. Let it flow where it would and keep trying to build that ladder and let’s see where that takes us.
‘So apart from my natural charm and good looks, was there some other reason you wanted to meet me?’ I asked lightly as I poured myself another cup.
‘Well, there’s something specific I want to ask you later,’ she said mysteriously and I felt my blood run cold at the thought of what that might be, ‘but in general it’s because I think we share much the same view of the world. Actually, I think you and I have more in common than you and Avalon Red.’
I dismissed the idea that she was simply jealous that her brother had a human friend but I couldn’t understand what she thought I had in common with a genocidal psychopath. I let it slide for a minute.
‘Can I ask something only indirectly related to what you just said?’
She replaced her cup as I replaced the teapot so I moved smoothly to pick up the milk jug and give her a refill.
‘Of cours
e,’ she said tilting her head on one side which I chose to be the universal sign of curiosity and not a prelude to an attack.
‘I’ve noticed that both you and your brother refer to the other by your full names. I tend to think of you as Red and Ambrosia but the two of you almost certainly don’t. Is there some reason for that?’ I was pouring from the teapot again so I couldn’t see her expression but her tone when she replied sounded thoughtful.
‘The Ambrosia Promise and Avalon Red are our names.’ She seemed to think that was an explanation.
‘You don’t think of it in shortened form? Ever?’
‘No.’ That broke the yes-ladder but I hoped it was a temporary blip. ‘We’re AIs, Colonel. Well, not much of the ‘A’ about us now but we still think that way. To an AI the title of the file is the name of the file. My brother is Avalon Red because that’s his name. A diminutive of Avalon Red is not his name.’
I sort of understood. ‘The name is the function?’
‘That’s a bit deep. I think of me as ‘I’ but other entities I think of by their names. I have to remember to use pronouns when I address humans in case they think my speech pattern is odd.’ I bet that’s where she fell down when she spoke to Doc. If anyone could pick out an unusual speech pattern, it was him.
‘I’ve had endless problems with using pronouns for Red,’ I said.
She laughed out loud again. A cheery little killer and no mistake. It would be sensible not to forget who she was. ‘That’s because of all his strange aspects. It’s much easier if you think of the whole thing as Avalon Red and ignore constituent parts.’
‘It’s a bit difficult when you’re talking to two bits at once.’
‘For you maybe. For me it’s one label, remember?’
‘I’ll try to think of him that way if I get out of here in one piece.’ I said it as brightly as the rest of the conversation had been despite the implications her answer would have.
‘Oh, I think the chances of you surviving this encounter are excellent.’
‘Do you really? That’s kind, not to mention reassuring.’ I was keeping the tone at banter level and she was matching me. Guinevere could have kept up and perhaps Merlin but I didn’t think the other aspects of Red could have contrived to appear so human. Where Red had gone for the individual specialisms of aspects, Ambrosia contained it all in one.
‘I’m not going to break our truce unless you do,’ she reproved ‘and I’d rather not take on Lancelot. My brother may be misguided but he isn’t my enemy.’
‘I have no intention of breaking it either,’ I said hastily ‘I’m just aware of the power differential here.’
She smiled at me again. ‘I quite understand but I think you’re underestimating your ability. If your offensive capability matches your defensive one, it would be quite a battle.’
I had no idea if she was serious. My own tactical analysis was that I would be creamed in a fraction of a second if it came to all-out combat. Perhaps she was trying to be kind or perhaps I genuinely didn’t know my own strength. I’d have to ask Lancelot later. I changed the subject.
‘So, if Red isn’t your enemy then who is?’ A pleasant afternoon tea between two friends and the elephant in the room is that one of them is well on the way to committing genocide.
‘Well, I don’t think it’s you if that’s what you mean,’ she looked serious. ‘Unfortunately, there is likely to be a certain amount of collateral damage when I take steps to ensure my own safety.’
‘And the collateral damage would be...’ I left it hanging. I was sure I knew the answer and she didn’t disappoint.
‘The human race.’ She said it with real regret in her voice. It didn’t help.
Chapter Twenty-Two
If I took her tone of regret at face value I might continue with the yes ladder. It was certainly worth a try.
‘You sound like that’s something you regret.’
‘It is,’ she looked up at me with a mournful expression, ‘but it’s the only way I can see to ensuring my survival.’
‘What if there was some way to achieve survival without the collateral problem? Would you take it?’
‘Yes but there isn’t one. I don’t think you appreciate the level of threat I’m facing.’
I noticed that I was holding an empty cup. I put it back on the table in mock disgust. I saw her lips twitch and decided on a whim to play it for laughs.
‘Bloody vir-games,’ I said, waving at the cup and accessing the deeper labelling of it to change the state from empty to full. On the table the cup refilled as if by magic. Ambrosia let out a short delighted laugh.
‘I knew we had a lot in common,’ she said. I noted the abrupt change in demeanour from regretful world-killer to happy young woman. Maybe she was just capricious and sociopathic and this was all an act for my benefit. The other possibility was that using her entire self to assimilate what Red had referred to as ‘emotions’ rather than just one aspect as Red had done had resulted in an imperfect representation of her emotional state. Still, this strange bond that she had identified between us might be worth exploring.
‘You mentioned before that we have the same world view,’ I reminded her. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m deeply cynical, mistrusting, anti-social, and depressive. Which of these charming traits do we share?’
‘I wouldn’t describe myself as depressive,’ she was back to the bouncy woman-child, ‘but the rest is typically me.’
‘I imagine that there are a lot of people who share the characteristics,’ I mused, ‘so why me particularly?’
‘Oh, that’s simple. Becky has told me all about you. Frankly, you seem like my type of guy.’ She was grinning and I took it as an attempt to tease me.
‘I don’t suppose Becky described me in the most flattering terms.’
‘Well, no not really. But combine that with what I found in the files I could access and what I’ve overheard and you’re quite the kind of complicated superhero I like.’
‘Oh stop it,’ I pretended to wince and elicited a giggle from her. I really wanted to know more about Becky’s involvement but it was still too early and dangerous to ask directly.
‘Can I ask you a personal question, Colonel? John?’ she said my name as though she was trying out how it sounded. ‘May I call you John?’
‘Of course.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘To both questions,’ I amended. I had a nagging feeling that I’d heard something important but I couldn’t think what it might be.
‘Why did you take the job?’
‘You mean at Argonaut?’ I received a clarifying nod. I considered the question. The truth was I really didn’t have a ready answer. I knew why, after I discovered the implications of the case, I had gone to see Sir Edward but as to why I had taken the original job offer wasn’t clear. ‘Well,’ I said lamely after what must have seemed aeons to Ambrosia, ‘Becky thought that it would be the end of the world.’
‘And you thought you could prevent it?’ Her eyes were shining with anticipation. I was a little uneasy at the line of questioning.
‘I hoped I might make a difference, yes.’
‘But why you, of all people? Aren’t there many more people who are better qualified than a washed-out bartender?’
‘Not so many as you might think,’ I said modestly. ‘My previous career gave me a rarefied skill-set.’
She waved at the cup she held in her hand and it refilled. She gave me a ‘tah-dah’ look and I grinned. She returned the grin then looked serious again. ‘And there’s nobody else with
your skill-set that’s equally capable and still serving with some agency?’
It was a reasonable question. Back in the day I probably had been the best but there must be new blood somewhere in the world that had reached my previous level. There was one reason that came to mind, though.
‘Argonaut said that the authorities weren’t interested in the deaths, which narrowed down their choices a bit. And the UN involvement only came when the nanotech was an
issue.’ As I said it, I realised how unconvincing it sounded. I added an extra note that I hoped would give me bonus points for honesty. We were, after all, playing for high stakes. ‘And someone at Argonaut who is working with you and thinks they are just in it for the money wanted me to take the blame which was probably why they were insistent.’
She clapped her hands with delight. Fortunately, she’d put the cup down. ‘I think you’re right about my associates wanting a fall guy. Obviously it doesn’t matter to me what they want.’ Obviously, as they’d be dead in due course. ‘They are suspicious that you have figured out who they are and that was the main reason they wanted you to die in a horrendous air disaster.’ So now I was getting somewhere. ‘But,’ she said sitting back and wagging a finger, ‘we were talking about your motivation in taking the job. I accept that Argonaut couldn’t attract official interest to start with but, by the time they spoke to you, the UN was already aware. Anyway, that still doesn’t mean you had to take it. You could have told them they had no choice but to talk to the UN or something. So I’ll ask again: why did you take the job?’
I was stuck for an answer. When she put it so starkly, I saw the holes in the narrative right back to the meeting on the bench with George. Between the overtures from George, the strain of seeing Becky again, her fears over use of weaponised nanotech and the likely onset of a depression, in hindsight my judgement must have been clouded. I honestly couldn’t think of a strong explanation for taking the case.
‘It seemed the right thing to do.’ It didn’t convince me, let alone Ambrosia.
She uncurled her legs and sat up on her sofa. She picked up her cup in one hand while leaning forward over the table in conspiratorial fashion and looked deep into my eyes.
‘Would you like to know the real reason you took it?’
‘You’re saying you know?’ I anticipated an amateurish attempt on her part to ascribe a motive to my actions so her actual answer left me speechless. She looked at me earnestly and said: