by Mark New
‘That’s very good of you,’ she smiled. ‘You can always leave a message for me at this office.’
That was useful. Now, whatever the circumstances of the war against humanity, at least one human would have a line of communication with the enemy. I tried one last gamble.
‘Do you want me to tell Becky that you plotted the extinction of the human race from her penthouse office?’ I said it with a grin but I was gambling that Becky didn’t know and this might exonerate her.
‘Whatever you think is best, John’ she said with a laugh. ‘She thinks I’ve hired it for job interviews.’ I laughed too and resisted the temptation to punch the air in celebration.
‘Before you go, I have something for you,’ she said. A file appeared in my inbox. I regarded it warily. The security program cleared it so I ran it again and then a third time with all of the new security firepower at my disposal. I mentally shrugged and opened it. There were two pieces of faux-paper; one had two names on it and nothing else and the other was a balance sheet in a very simplified form. It wasn’t difficult to understand but it was very surprising.
‘You’re giving up your associates?’ I was dumbfounded.
She pulled a face. ‘I never liked them anyway. They no longer have control over the agents disseminating the nanotech so I don’t need them anymore. You can have a little victory with my compliments.’ She laughed. ‘Maybe it’ll give you more time to look into my core program problem.’
‘That’s very kind of you. Thank you.’ I didn’t mention the little frisson that went through me on seeing the names I had suspected being served up on a plate.
‘You’re welcome.’ She rose. ‘I’ll see you out.’
Our farewells were polite, even touching. She escorted me to the office door and gave me a hug.
‘I wish the circumstances were different,’ she said sadly.
‘I do, too.’
She brightened. ‘Still, fifteen minutes of truce before I set the room AI on you, eh?’
I laughed. ‘I’ll complain to the management that the room tried to kill me.’
‘Goodbye, John.’
‘Goodbye, The Ambrosia Promise.’ It seemed polite to use her full name.
During the elevator ride down the events of the last (I checked the timings) half an hour replayed in my head. I was sure that I’d encountered things to my advantage beyond the obvious but I just let the thoughts swirl and wash over me while I watched the floor numbers count down. The names of her associates certainly confirmed my own suspicions and the balance sheet gave the motive. It looked like legitimate evidence and no bluff on her part. The doors opened on the ground floor and I was halfway across the lobby before it hit me. I nearly stumbled but managed to recover my composure without attracting attention. It was so bloody obvious! How could I have not seen that? I turned left outside the door and kept walking down the street. To tell the truth, it was more of a skip. In retrospect, I could hardly believe that I didn’t get it when she was talking to me but my mind had been concentrating on surviving and managing the conversation. The yes-ladder hadn’t come to much but the information I’d been given plus the insight was worth much more.
And now I had another odd seneschal to manage. Lancelot exited the café and crossed the road to join me. He looked warily over my shoulder.
‘Are we expecting trouble?’
‘Not for fifteen minutes, my dear fellow,’ I greeted him. He looked at me oddly. I felt a brush against the implants. He must have noticed that the comms bot was sealed but he didn’t say anything. I took his arm which startled him a bit. ‘Camelot!’ I cried and removed us both from the vir-game.
We were walking up the hill towards the castle before he recovered enough to speak.
‘Are you all right? Did you find out anything of use?’
‘I’m fantastically fine,’ I assured him in a deliberately over-the-top manner. I could tell from the data stream that the report of my newly erratic behaviour was instantly transmitted to those aspects waiting inside. ‘I found out many things: I know that Becky isn’t involved; I know why she’s called herself The Ambrosia Promise; I know how Professor Andersson died; I know who Ambrosia is working with; oh, and one other thing...’
‘Yes?’ We had reached the outer gate. I strode on when Lancelot slowed up and called back over my shoulder.
‘...I know where she is.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
I was pleased to find that the other aspects were all in place around the table when Lancelot and I walked into the chamber. All except Sir Bors, whose chair was occupied by Guinevere. I hoped she had simply taken it rather than waiting for permission. After my encounter with Ambrosia I was re-evaluating Avalon Red’s personality traits. There was something now vaguely disturbing about the aspect designated to learn about humans and their culture being relegated to standing room despite having the outward face of a queen. Ambrosia had some strange ideas that, to her, justified genocide but some of her analysis of her brother resonated truthfully in my newly fizzing brain. After all, Ambrosia was the one entity who could understand Avalon Red. I had deliberately exhibited erratic behaviour since leaving the penthouse office and I hoped I had done enough to provoke a response.
As Lancelot closed the door behind us he applied the same complicated seal that he had used before. I tried not to betray my satisfaction that I could trace every single thread of it. The first time here, I had barely been aware of anything other than the fact that it was sealed. The second time, I could follow the threads. This time, I was utterly confident that I could undo it in less than a microsecond. For the first time I began to understand why Ambrosia had said that she considered me a genuine threat. It took my mortal enemy to make me believe it.
When I thought of all the crap I had put up with over the years, all the deep depressions, the closet breakdowns and the quest for anonymity in the furthest reaches of the planet I now recognised that I had always had a veneer of steel underneath it all. I wasn’t the totally broken creature that, in my worst moments, I had convinced myself that I was. Yes, I left the army but I reactivated the implants; yes, I was depressed and even suicidal but I sought out Doc for treatment; yes, I ran hard and fast but I made sure that I ran to a paradise island and a lifestyle that I needed. Now, here I sat in a virtual room with one of the first (possibly) sentient non-human lifeforms discussing another one who wanted to destroy my species accompanied by the suspicion that this one would take the other’s side if it came to the crunch. Well, on behalf of my fellow human beings, if that was true there was going to be trouble. Big, bad-ass trouble of the kind I hadn’t caused for decades. Some of us don’t take kindly to being pushed around.
The pep-talk I gave myself had taken milliseconds. I was aware that I was under scrutiny: there were data streams flying around the room and none of them were headed my way. I was being discussed despite my presence. How rude.
‘When you’re finished gossiping, shall we get started?’ I maintained the provocative attitude.
I saw Guinevere and Arthur share a glance but it was Merlin who spoke, even as I felt a brush against the firmly closed comms bot.
‘I gather that you not only survived the encounter but gleaned useful intelligence too?’
‘Correct. She intends to launch her attack at ten tomorrow morning California time but I know where she is so how are we going to stop her?’
‘And she was unable to take any action against you in any way?’ Don’t think I didn’t notice that he ducked the question.
‘No. She was scrupulous in observing the truce.’
‘I see. I can’t help noticing that your behaviour since you left her is a little...’
‘On edge? That’s what impending doom does to you. So, tactics?’
‘Also that your comms bot is closed. Is there a reason for that?’
‘Yes. I sealed it against intrusion. I would have thought that was obvious.’
I could see Guinevere fidgeting uncomfortably.
‘I’m a little concerned that my sister may have attempted to compromise you.’ He struggled over the word ‘compromise’. I surmised that his preferred choice of word would have been ‘corrupted’ but he was getting significant data traffic from Guinevere.
‘She didn’t,’ I assured him, adopting a dismissive tone. I watched him frown and tried not to smile. ‘So can we get back to the point?’
‘You’re saying that The Ambrosia Promise made no attempt to kill you, like she did on the jet, or to prevent you from taking action against her?’ Guinevere weighed in on the interrogation herself rather than feed Merlin.
‘Correct.’
‘Didn’t you find that strange?’ Merlin countered.
‘No. It wasn’t quite as strange as her offer of a job.’
‘What?’ This time it was Belvedere who jumped in, rather alarmed.
‘Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t take her up on it.’
Data whizzed around the room. As I’d intended, I’d stirred them up significantly. I just hoped that my self-confidence wasn’t misplaced.
Merlin leaned forward and stared at me intently as the streams died down. Obviously Red had made a collective decision. ‘I’m sorry, John,’ he said gently, ‘but I have to know.’
I felt him push on the seal over the comms bot. It held firmly in place.
‘I give you my word I’m fine and uncorrupted,’ I said quietly. I saw the stream from Sir Tristan coil into Merlin. The how-to guide on dismantling defences, no doubt. My word was apparently not good enough.
The pre-emptive attack was one of those shock-and-awe onslaughts that used to be in vogue in conventional warfare: it hit me with huge force and attempted to undermine the weaving around the bot that held my defences in place. The initial attempt failed but was followed with a series of waves each seeking a different weak point behind the main point of impact. Lying on the bed in the hotel room, I felt the onset of a serious headache as my defences strained to hold the line, but hold they did. It was very difficult to withstand it and took nearly all of my concentration but my heart leapt when I discovered that he wasn’t making progress. In the chamber Merlin’s face visibly tensed with the strain as he prepared a second phase.
He never saw the blast coming.
The sheer power of my counterstrike caught him full in the chest and he was thrust spectacularly backwards, his chair upending as he completed a reverse somersault and landed in an astonished heap beside his broken chair.
Beside me, Lancelot leapt to his feet. I looked down at Merlin’s prostrate form without moving from my seat.
‘That’s not polite,’ I said coldly.
I felt Lancelot bristle. Merlin’s attack had ceased and I held another blast ready behind the bot that now doubled as an offensive platform. I relaxed the defences slightly so that Lancelot could see that I was ready for him. He withheld from action but remained standing at ready-alert. On the floor, Merlin was struggling to his feet and looking very angry.
‘You...!’ he began but he was cut short by a very quiet yet supremely authoritative voice.
‘That’s enough.’
Merlin gaped. ‘But...’
‘I said that’s enough,’ said Arthur.
I looked at him closely. He was looking regal: every inch the king. Beside him, Guinevere glowed triumphantly. I had the distinct feeling that I had interfered in domestic politics but I didn’t care. I had made my point.
‘Sit down,’ Arthur ordered looking at Merlin. ‘You too, Lancelot.’ Both of them resumed their seats reluctantly but without protest. Merlin had to set his chair upright and wave a hand over the broken bits to refit them.
I addressed Arthur: ‘The real boss, I presume?’
‘King Arthur,’ he said solemnly. ‘The clue is in the title.’
I cut to the heart of the problem: ‘Ambrosia told me why I took the job.’
‘I thought it might be something like that,’ he didn’t seem surprised. He waved a hand at Sir Tristan. ‘Release the block.’
‘Majesty?’ Tristan clearly wasn’t happy but his query wasn’t forceful.
‘You heard me.’
He didn’t need access to my bot to accomplish it. A flick of data from Tristan and it was as though the blindfold had been removed from my eyes. I had thought that all of the levels in the implants were visible to me but now I saw, as the shield came away, that there was one more program buried beneath the others. I didn’t even need to inspect it to know that it was the one that was used to embed orders. Operating right at the heart of the implants and utilising emotional overload for cover it effectively put ideas in my head. A conduit for directives from my controller. As I looked at it with revulsion I understood that Guinevere had lied about implanting a memory to give me a jolt on the jet: she had planted an order with an adrenaline surge. I looked at her accusingly and she immediately understood what I was thinking.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed silently.
Arthur lifted a hand. ‘May I?’ he asked. I nodded but braced for a retaliatory strike if I objected to his course of action. He waved simply and the thin wisp of data fluttered towards the comms bot. I slid the defence aside and let it in. Once there it went straight to the be-a-zombie program and dissolved it entirely. I understood the mechanism. The program would allow orders remotely, like ‘hide yourself from Harvard’, but to alter or destroy it full access through the implants was needed. And now it was gone. I double-checked for others but found none. I reflected ruefully that I had thought the same last time.
‘Arthur,’ Merlin looked as though he was about to argue but Arthur shut him down.
‘He’s bested you twice in a fair fight and he’s discovered your coercion program. Now shut up and let me talk to him.’ He looked generally around the room. ‘That goes for all of you, too.’ All data traffic ceased and silence fell. He turned to face me. Beside him, Guinevere still looked like the cat that got the cream. ‘I’m very sorry for what I’ve done to you, John,’ he began. ‘There were reasons that I thought it necessary,’ he glanced at Merlin, ‘but it’s possible that I was in error. As you have guessed, I,’ he indicated himself, the Arthur aspect, ‘am the controller of the entity Avalon Red. The other aspects operate much in the way with which you’re familiar with the slight difference being that Merlin has been created to appear the nominal command and control aspect for security reasons.’
‘So why me?’ If he thought I was going to let him off easily, he was seriously mistaken.
‘It seems as though your conversation with The Ambrosia Promise covered a wide range of subjects,’ he said wryly.
‘She asked me why I took the job and then she explained the real reason. So, why me?’
‘A combination of circumstance and need.’ He paused for a second. ‘Were you serious about the deadline or was that part of the deliberate provocation of Merlin?’
‘It’s true. At least, it was what she said. I’m inclined to believe her.’
‘So do you really want to do this now?’
‘I really do,’ I said firmly. ‘I need to know, for example, that my cognitive functions are unimpaired and unfettered because otherwise I might find out too late that I haven’t really solved the case at all.’ That made the other aspects sit up and take notice though they obeyed the order to remain silent.
‘Solved?’ asked Arthur raising his eyebrows.
‘Solved,’ I affirmed, ‘as long as you’re not still fucking with me and as long as the last piece of the puzzle is what I think it is.’
‘I think my days of “fucking” with you - as you so colourfully put it - are at an end. However, I also think that my days of having any credibility with you may be similarly finished. My word that everything in your head answers only to you now may not be convincing.’
‘Not even remotely. So start explaining about why me.’ He was taking it reasonably well considering my suspicion that nobody had ever spoken to him like that before. At odd moments I could feel Lancelot bri
stle at my lack of respect but that was just tough. I still had another blast lined up should anyone get too upset. Arthur looked at Guinevere and she nodded.
‘Very well. I have to confess that until now I didn’t understand why Guinevere cried at the concert but the effect I have had on you seems to warrant her reaction at the time.’ He noticed my lack of understanding. ‘She was partly truthful about the music being so beautiful but the hidden reason was -’ he threw her a sidelong glance. ‘You tell him.’
‘We were visiting a time when you were very happy with life. We were recreating the moment and I knew that not only had you had to deal with the consequences of your military career but that I was also manipulating you horribly without your knowledge. The contrast was heartbreaking even if I thought it was for the best reasons.’ She looked down at the table and then back up at me. ‘I am really very sorry.’
Arthur resumed the story. ‘I knew that The Ambrosia Promise was up to something significant mainly because she made oblique references to it on the few occasions when we communicated. She claimed to be plotting the downfall of humanity, which was a little alarming even though I didn’t know if she could actually accomplish it. Naturally, I tried to find out what her plan was but I found myself a step or two behind her at each stage. Each murder, I should say. The immediacy of the threat became apparent when David Winter fell into a coma and The Ambrosia Promise dropped out of sight. I had always had a good idea of where she was at any given time and it was a surprise to me that she could conceal herself from me so effectively. I understand that you know where she is now?’
‘Yes. I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell you. I need to hear the whole story first.’
‘That’s probably fair.’ He looked genuinely contrite but it didn’t soften my attitude. He’d played with me and now it was my turn to do the same to him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it, just a little. ‘At that point I had a problem. I have a vast intellect; probably the most significant ever to arise on the planet, and I am hugely powerful...’