by James Thomas
“Okay, that’s starting to freak me out,” warned Joe. “You’re acting like my mother, but from inside my head and with a nerdy guy’s voice to top it off. Freaky!”
“Well, Cadet Joe Devlin, being late will earn you additional demerits,” replied the AI. “and records show you have the highest . . .”
“Stop!” Joe warned again. “A name!”
“What name do you want me to look up?” requested the AI.
“A name for you, of course,” replied Joe. “Or did you tell me to do that?” he added with a grin.
“I assure you, Cadet Joe Devlin, that I can’t tell you what to say. I’m not connected to your mind,” replied the AI, “and naming me is not necessary.”
“No way,” Joe persisted, “I’m naming you.” He added, “Man, this is weird, hearing you internally. Let’s see . . . who are you like? I mean . . . we just met, and you are nerdy.”
“If you wish, Cadet Joe Devlin,” replied the AI. “Bringing up a list of computer names to pick from.”
“And cut that out!” wailed Joe.
“There is nothing to cut,” answered the AI.
“I mean it. Call me Joe from now on and stop acting like my mother or I’ll throw you into the trash can.”
“Well, that would be unproductive,” replied the AI. “and there is a one hundred percent probability that my removal would cause you to bleed severely.”
“Point?” asked Joe in an exasperated tone of voice.
“Now, even I don’t know what you mean, and I just processed over one thousand possible outcomes,” said the AI.
“Point mine . . . if I get you in the trash can on the first toss!” barked Joe.
“Are you always this nice?” asked the AI.
“Augie . . . that’s it . . . you’re Augie—understand?” stated Joe.
“Well, that seems to be a great dog name and not the name of a system that can calculate trillions of functions simultaneously,” replied the AI. “Do you want to hear the list of names?”
“No, it’s Augie because I need to trust you. I don’t want a computer’s name and you seem to be stubborn. By the way, what’s your flexibility setting currently fixed at?”
Augie’s voice sounded aged, similar to a man in his late forties. It was a little coarse, with an undertone of digitalization throughout, sounding somewhat similar to Dumar’s, which made sense since he had designed the AI.
“Twenty percent, to allow for good feedback!” replied Augie.
“Well, dial that up to one hundred and increase your sense of humor to one hundred percent,” ordered Joe.
“Okay—this is your mother,” said Augie. “You’re not naming the AI with a dog’s name.”
“Ha, ha,” said Joe.
“Wait!” added Augie mockingly. “You’re not supposed to know I put that into your head?”
“I take that back,” said Joe. “Set both to fifty percent. That way you can have some balance.”
“Wait a minute?” said Angel from behind Joe. “Is that some kind of AI?”
“Angel! I didn’t see you come up,” said Joe. “And you’re not supposed to know about it. How long have you been standing there, anyway?”
“He heard the entire dog naming conversation,” answered Augie instead of Angel. “Do you want me to tell you about things of this sort in the future?”
“Well, that’s a treat, Joe,” said Angel, “You seem to have met your match. Anyway, I didn’t want to bother you two love birds arguing. Plus,” Angel added, “It took me a little time to figure out you had an AI installed. Didn’t think that was even possible. I thought maybe that the Grax had pushed you over the edge and you had gone totally bonkers.”
“Really Angel,” said Joe, disappointed with Angel’s lack of faith in him.
“Well, you were talking to yourself until I realized it could be AI,” replied Angel.
“His name is Augie,” said Joe. “Not AI.”
“Augie. Hmmm . . . let me guess! Master Repair Specialist Dumar’s handy work? I’m starting to see now! Is the ISF okay with that?”
“Yes . . . and no,” said Joe. “Angel, it can’t get out that I have it. I promised Dumar.”
“You and your secrets. I thought we were best friends!” snapped Angel. “Dumar acts like your uncle.”
“Angel, really!” retorted Joe. “Your funny bone . . . well, it’s just a bone, you bonehead.”
“Well then,” said Angel, feeling slighted. “You might want to turn down that subwoofer in your head because I can hear it. Besides, I thought you already had a girlfriend,” he added with a snicker.
“You’ll never stop trying, will you, Angel?” laughed Joe.
“Joe,” said Augie, jumping into the fray. “You might have to dial my sense of humor to zero to make sure it’s below Angel’s.”
“Wait, did that thing just talk to me?” asked Angel.
Joe laughed. “Angel, it seems that Augie definitely understands you.”
“Augie, did you change your settings as I asked?”
“As you command, Master!” Augie said in one last act of defiance before finally reporting, “Process complete.”
“Ha, ha,” countered Angel sarcastically. “Might want to set that . . . woofer . . . man—really!” was all Angel could say before becoming frustrated and going silent.
“Augie, stop the external voice,” said Joe. “Can’t have people hearing you. You will need my permission before doing that again. Understood?”
“Joe—it’s done and understood,” said Augie.
“Good,” said Joe. “Can’t tell since it’s tied to my ear. I thought it was all internal, and only I could hear it,” he explained to Angel. “Now—Augie—shut down completely for class.” Joe didn’t want to explain how he acquired a supercomputer in his head to the Dean of the Academy, so it was better to be safe for now.
3
SOMEONE
Both Angel and Joe had grown up together in Dansburg, where the city half-hugged the Space Academy grounds known as The Yard. The city and the Academy grounds were divided by a five-meter-high wall, which was meant more to keep the cadets inside during their times of required study than to keep the public out. Together, the city and The Yard squeezed and pulled against each other, wrapping timeworn three-story buildings in a maze of stone walls and narrow alleys.
Joe and Angel agreed to meet up in downtown Dansburg after their academy classes. Joe arrived first and kept an eye on the crowd. It flowed ever larger with he rush of the homebound workers. Joe decided to move to a more visible area of the streetscape, hoping that Angel might spot him easier. However, the new location was quickly filling up, too.
Sounds of people chatting came and went as the lines moved. Speeders buzzed by. These beings seemed oblivious to Joe’s existence, regarding him like a physical barrier or inanimate object. He didn’t fit into their cyclic pattern, so they went around him as if he were a street pole.
Joe knew the area well from his days of playing amongst its maze of streets. Yet, the city wasn’t without troubles, with squalor pockets and crime in the back streets and alleys. On the advice of his father, Joe had always avoided those areas, so he remained naïve about their inner works. The old proverb, out of sight, out of mind, seemed to be an unspoken rule by the local police who avoided those areas unless something had gotten the public’s attention. Only then would the police patrol those parts until the public’s curiosity waned once again.
“Augie . . . wake up, brother,” directed Joe. “Time to do . . . well, to do what you do. Whatever that is . . .” Joe had forgotten about Augie, on purpose, since the AI system was still novel to him and he still wasn’t sure if he really needed it. It was more to please Master Repair Specialist Dumar. To Joe, flesh and machinery seemed to be forever separated. That line now appeared blurred by the AI’s integration with the mind, unlike a lone functioning prosthetic replacement of a missing limb or failing organ.
“Okay, Joe. Augie, yes—brother, no,”
retorted Augie. “Have to draw the line somewhere and remember, I’m always with you, if you haven’t noticed. This big brother thing is a little strange, even for me.”
“Well, then again, I think I have you balanced just right. Nevertheless, we have more important things to worry about. Like where’s Angel?” said Joe. “He’s way late!”
“Are you expecting someone else besides Angel?” replied Augie.
“No—why?”
“Well, someone is watching us,” answered Augie.
“I don’t see any one particular,” said Joe after carefully looking around. The crowd was dense and moving in both directions along the street, expanding and retracting. Citizens made ever-so-slight pathway variations when approaching each other, trying to avoid any collisions. However, the occasional and sometimes careless body bump caused someone’s head to turn with a reaction of surprised rudeness, then quickly disappeared as the two diverged.
“I don’t expect you to see the person,” said Augie. “I’m using the network of cameras around you to do that. All except one individual have passed or changed direction away from you. This one has remained up street from you, peering in your direction from behind a corner.”
“So! Is it Angel?” asked Joe as he started heading up the street.
“No, its height is lower,” replied Augie.
“Let’s catch up and see,” said Joe as he started to jog to close the distance.
“Man or woman?” further asked Joe.
“Unable to identify. The person’s face is covered by a hood, though short in height,” said Augie.
“Let me know when I have a clear view as I get closer!” directed Joe.
“You’re not closing the distance, only matching the pace,” answered Augie.
Joe swiftly changed his walk to a run as he turned the street corner. “Augie, location?”
“Unknown,” Augie replied. “I’m not picking anything up over the camera network.”
“It was probably nothing, BIG BROTHER,” said Joe sarcastically. Then he turned and started working back to his previous waiting spot.
“Amusing,” replied Augie. “Are you always so tenacious?”
A moment later, Augie alerted Joe. “The person is back.”
“Any ID?” asked Joe.
“Nothing,” replied Augie.
“Okay, the heck with this,” said Joe as he turned down a back alley.
The alley was full of scoundrels of all types. They did not want to be observed on the main street, and it wasn’t due to their looks. Most had warrants out for their arrests but had to earn a living any way possible, irrespective of the laws.
“You think this is a good idea!” questioned Augie. “And that is more of a statement than a question. These alleys are hazardous for a person of your age.”
“Just keep a lookout,” said Joe.
He moved swiftly past several alley vendors. Most of the suppliers were working off a portable stand. Each one had tripod legs attached to a platform box with items to buy or trade. The whole contraption could be quickly lifted off its legs, which folded together, allowing the vendor to take the black-market goods away if the police raided.
“Augie, are we being followed?” asked Joe.
“I don’t recommend using the back alleys,” responded Augie more forcefully, trying to be direct.
“Stop it!” retorted Joe. “Check the cameras!”
“Talk about being a big brother,” barked back Augie. “You’re the brother that doesn’t listen.”
“Don’t make me change your settings again,” replied Joe. “I’ll pick the obeying robot setting.”
“I’m working it. Time is unspecified,” answered Augie tersely. “Let’s see . . . no active cameras in the back alleys, and that’s the only way I can see lawfully. Standby. The cameras have each sustained damage, taking them all off the public grid. If I had to use deduction, I would say the vendors did the damage, but I don’t guess. By the way, do you think Master Repair Specialist Dumar would approve of your location?”
“Augie—again,” said Joe in a heightened tone. “Cameras! Man, you talk a lot.”
Joe kept moving through the alleys, but his youth, along with the fact that he was talking to himself, was getting unwanted attention. Several vendors lifted up their stands and quickly departed the scene. As they left, the area opened up, giving any potential pursuer a clearer view, exactly what Joe was trying to avoid.
“I think I can fix the cameras by rerouting their proximity network to work locally with me,” said Augie. “It seems to be only the external link that has been disconnected. Its range is limited; however, I think I can piggyback the signal to have them all on at once. The normal function of the proximity network is maintenance. Still the external hardwire has been disabled from the network node at the police headquarters.”
“Geez, Augie, how much longer?” asked Joe, frustrated with the long explanations. “I thought you could do things fast.”
“Working on it,” said Augie, trying to reassure Joe.
According to Augie’s input, no one seemed to be following Joe, so he slowed his movement through the alley and tried to be more cautious about speaking to Augie while near the vendors. Joe was looking for a place to hide and flip the situation on his follower, but his options seemed limited. Most exits were blocked by the sellers, ensuring them a quick getaway. The deeper Joe ventured into the back alley, the denser the crowds became until the alley intersected with a narrow side-path that divided the two backsides of the main street’s businesses. In this area, he could find no refuge. He headed down the path anyway, trying the back doors. However, one after another was locked.
“I have a feed,” reported Augie.
“And?” said Joe.
“Well, it wasn’t easy, but . . .”
“But what?”
“The person is still following you and closing, but you have nowhere to hide,” answered Augie.
“Well, keep looking for a place,” said Joe.
“Sure, I’ll just have a camera installed,” replied Augie in a sarcastic tone.
Joe kept trying doors, but all were locked. Finally, one was unlocked and even cracked slightly, allowing the breeze to flow through the store. Joe pushed it fully open and walked through. The store was tightly packed full of merchandise, with business suits hung on the walls and racks. He carefully walked past a distracted clerk behind a counter, deeply absorbed in reading a book. Joe continued toward the front door where, in his haste, he shoved it open to the main street.
“Hey—you—kid,” said the clerk after hearing the door chime sound. “Get back here.”
But it was too late since Joe had already entered the street. By the time the clerk came through the front door, Joe was out of sight, having turned down another alley on the far side of the street. He could hear the clerk shouting for the police.
“Well, there’s a police alert over the network,” said Augie.
“Are you still tracking the person following me?” asked Joe.
“Yes, crossing the street,” reported Augie.
Joe again moved into the back alley as it quickly narrowed, making the walk past the vendors a challenge. These vendors were selling with only their hands, which looked rough in appearance. They didn’t seem to appreciate Joe’s presence.
Joe shook it off and kept moving. He brushed and bumped against people who were sometimes shoulder to shoulder. He ducked and turned through the crowd, making sure whoever was following him would cast no doubt to their intentions. Finally, when the alley again widened, Joe was able to hide next to the side of the building. Next to him a vendor selling ion crystals, which were illegal in civilian hands.
“Augie, do you have a camera view?” asked Joe.
The vendor turned his head slightly toward Joe at the mention of the word camera, then casually back toward the alley in a slow pan of the area before returning to his business.
Since Augie’s voice was ordered by Joe to be only hear
d internally after the incident with Angel, the vendor, not knowing any difference, just thought Joe was just a goofy kid.
“ISF has a satellite overhead,” said Augie. “But tapping into that system is forbidden for you.”
“Can you tap into it?” asked Joe.
“I have all military access codes,” replied Augie.
“Geez, then tap into it,” said Joe. “I’m ISF and you were created by the ISF. Plus, remember what Dumar said, it could be a Grax spy after me. Come on, BIG BROTHER!”
“You’re still a cadet,” said Augie. “You seem to flip this ‘Big Brother’ thing to suit your situation. Sure, you’re ISF, but not a commissioned officer quite yet!”
“And your purpose is to protect me!” reminded Joe to Augie. “That person could be a Grax operative.”
As an AI, Augie was able to think for himself, and his prime objective was to protect Joe. If he did that, he could just reason that it was workable to access the satellite without Joe seeing anything of vital importance. Plus, with the police alerted, Augie wanted to make sure Joe was in the clear.
“Accessing!” said Augie.
“Can you see the person?” asked Joe.
“Yes. Twenty meters away and closing.”
“Augie, is there an area nearby not covered by the satellite?”
“Checking,” replied Augie. “There is one.”
The viewpoints from above and the darkness had kept one area out of sight, and Augie had found it.
“Guide me to it, fast!” said Joe.
“Follow that alley behind you,” directed Augie.
Joe sprinted down the alley.
“Turn left,” said Augie as he passed an intersection.
“What?” said Joe, surprised by the abrupt instruction as he was sprinting. He instead lost his balance, trying unsuccessfully to make the turn, crashing through a vendor and his box, then into a building’s stone façade.
Joe could feel blood plasma quickly filling in on his upper shoulder where the skin had been removed. Before he could regain balance, a light that had been partially sheared off the building fell, shattering glass upon the ground and over the vendor’s raw, bloodshot meat, which had spilled from the handheld platform. Joe could only guess what kind of meat, but it was probably not the legal kind sold at the local supermarket.