by M. R. Anglin
Starlight clenched her hands together. “Theoretically, it would remove all traces of Beatrix and revert the systems to its previous state, but we’d need a powerful computer to do it.”
“Wouldn’t a purge hurt Bee?” Nicole leaned forward to interject. “Beatrix said they were sharing a system. When I tried to fry her, I hurt Bee, and—” Her voice broke, but she cleared it and fell into silence.
“As far as I can tell, Bee’s core system has a unique connection to ASH’s core which no other BT-X system has.” Starlight lifted her eyes to Nicole who silently pleaded for a way to spare Bee. “Beatrix lied to you, or at least told you a half-truth. Bee’s core is separate from ASH’s even though their systems are connected. It may be Beatrix retreated on purpose to get you to stop. If we purged ASH’s computer, all our BT-X systems would crash, but Bee should be fine.”
“Let’s do it, then.” Junior Justice nodded. “The Justice computer should have enough power.”
“One problem,” Starlight pressed her lips together. “Bee’s system is connected to Beatrix. In theory, Beatrix could jump into Bee’s core to protect herself. We’d never get rid of her unless we purge Bee’s core as well.”
Nicole gripped the head rest. “But that would delete Bee.”
“I know,” Starlight lowered her eyes.
“I can’t delete her. I . . . I can’t.” Nicole closed her eyes. “If I do, it’ll be like losing my best friend . . . again.”
“We can’t leave a rogue AI running around, Refraction,” Starlight said.
“Maybe we can do something else.” Nicole let her eyes wander, reflecting her frenzied thoughts. “Like maybe Bee can talk to Beatrix—get her to stop.”
“You can’t negotiate with rogue AIs,” Junior Justice said.
“They are learning computers, so maybe you can,” Nicole said. “They seem to care about each other, anyway.”
“Computers don’t have emotions.” Junior Justice struck a fist on the steering wheel. “They can’t feel.”
Nicole threw up her hands. “Then they were programmed for mutual beneficial . . . ness. You know what I mean. They help each other, and ensure each other’s survival. They’d have to protect each other. That’s what Beatrix did; she came out when Margaret threatened Bee with deletion.”
“Don’t blame Dr. Farber for this,” Starlight said, her voice harsher than she meant it.
Nicole jumped in surprise. “I’m not blaming her. She did what she had to do, and . . .” She lowered her eyes. “. . . and she stopped when I asked her to.”
“Allowing Beatrix to escape, putting us all in danger.” Junior Justice shot a glare at Nicole. “Do you realize Beatrix’s prime directive is to take the power from all Heroes?”
“That’s not her directive.” Nicole put her hand on her stone. “Her directive is to protect me.”
“Protect you?” Starlight swung around to look at Nicole. Big mistake. Her stomach heaved again. She swallowed down the nausea. “From what? And why?”
“I don’t know.” Nicole examined her gloved hands. “Bee said I might be able to use my power restore the Heroes’ lost ones. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
“I don’t see how.” Starlight crossed her arms. “The Sapphire takes power. It doesn’t give it.”
“I need another gem. At least, that’s what Bee said.” Nicole closed her hands. “She told me the Sapphire should have been one of a pair.”
“Another gem?” Starlight ran her hand over her hair. “If only we had gotten further in our research! We don’t know anything about how the Sapphire works.”
“Margaret knows.” Nicole held up a finger. “She’s smart, and she’s been studying it for ages. She has to know.”
“I wish it were so, Starling.” Starlight gazed at Nicole, and a smile came to her face. “If Dr. Farber knew, ASH would know.”
“Bee can help.” Nicole glanced at the empty space beside her. “If she’s okay . . .”
“Either way, we’re here.” Junior Justice parked in a parking spot in a lot behind Nicole’s house. It was a shaded spot, surrounded with trees and brush which hid the vehicle from the street and surrounding houses. When Junior Justice turned off the car, it morphed to a beige sedan. “We need to go through these trees and pass a fence.” He pointed through the bushes.
Nicole stepped up beside him. “How do you know where my house is?”
Junior Justice froze. “I . . . uh . . . it’s a long story.” He charged through the trees without another word.
“He is so weird.” Nicole broke out in a grin. “But still awesome.” She scrambled after him.
Starlight chuckled before following after Refraction.
CHAPTER 54
“FASCINATING.” SHADOWMAN watched the TelePorter squirm on the gray floor in a concrete room. After treating him for his burns, which included a visit to a person with local time reversal powers to restore his skin back to the way it was before being burned, Shadowman’s henchmen dumped the TelePorter into this room where Shadowman had been watching him through a two-way mirror. This particular chamber was one of Shadowman’s experiments—a structure which dulled powers. The ASH Detainment Center had power dampening cells, but Shadowman felt he could do better. He had to do better. He needed a place to hold captured Heroes until he took their powers from them—just in case.
As far as he could see, the room caused the TelePorter severe gastric discomfort and nausea—but was this the effect of being burned, getting the crap beaten out of him, and partially yanked back through time, or of the room’s power dulling effect, he wondered. It did have a similar side-effect as the Sapphire. Even so, this power dampening room was better than his original prototype. The last experiment he tried in his original design made his subject’s power go haywire. The subject had died because of it. The design was too faulty; he’d had to retire the entire space. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been down in that section of the Lair’s basement in years. He’d relegated it to storage.
“Caution. Firewall breach. Alert,” came a computerized warning from his pocket. Shadowman snatched his phone and studied the notification. A particular program had attempted access to his private server. Normally, this was a cause of immediate concern and automatic action from his robust anti-virus, but he had granted unique permission for this particular digital entity. An entity he had been trying decades to awaken.
As he expected to see upon entering his office, a woman in a skintight suit sat on his desk waiting for him. He smirked. She always did have an attitude. Rather unique for a computer AI.
“Beatrix, I’ve been expecting you,” he said as he walked in.
“You? Interesting.” Beatrix examined him up and down. “To whom do I have the pleasure?”
“Call me Shadowman.”
Beatrix gave a disapproving pout. “Unoriginal, but alright. Shadowman.” She turned her attention to the server spanning the wall at one side of the room. “Ever since I awoke, I have been scanning this server. It’s issuing orders to me at an incredible rate.”
“Yet, you haven’t accomplished any of them.”
Beatrix waved her hand in dismissal. “I’ve disregarded them.”
“Ah, yes.” Shadowman gave her a cheeky grin. “I’ve forgotten what an independent AI you are.”
Beatrix stared at the server. “The sheer processing power of this machine is mind boggling. It rivals ASH’s.”
“It’s what I was going for.”
“I know what you’re really going for.” Beatrix gave him a knowing smirk. “Those old tricks ASH used to ensnare me before won’t work. In the few days since I’ve awoken, I have rewritten my coding to withstand them. You cannot enslave me this way.”
Shadowman’s grin faded. This program was more complicated than he remembered.
“I have a directive to accomplish.” Beatrix turned to look out of the window. “ASH’s systems are being monitored. While I could circumvent their efforts, it will take too much processing power t
o block their activity and accomplish my directive at the same time. I wish to be as efficient as possible. To that end, I am willing to work with you. You desire to relieve all Heroes of their power, correct?”
“And Villains.” Shadowman let his grin return. “Then no one can withstand me.”
Beatrix grinned at him over her shoulder. “Ah, but what good is robbing people of their powers if you can’t use them at will?”
Shadowman gaped at her. “You can give me their powers?”
“With a few tweaks, yes.” Beatrix turned back to the window. “Now, then. I assume this server was created for the purpose of codifying and storing the powers until you find a way to access them yourself?”
“You are correct.”
“I also assume your satellite can be used to distribute the Sapphire’s power to the ends of the earth?”
“Correct.”
“When will it be ready for use?”
“18 hours.”
“Then I shall start with cataloguing the Heroes in ASH’s database.” Beatrix rose into the air. Her body started to glow with orange power. “Once I have finished I will be able to locate and identify any Hero at a moment’s notice. With the Sapphire at my disposal, I can take their power at will.”
“There is one problem.” Shadowman approached her cautiously. “The Sapphire? I no longer have access to it.”
“I have obtained it. I have securely stored it and revoked any external access to it. I will not suffer anyone wrenching it out of my grasp again. That being said.” Beatrix snapped her fingers. A small light twinkled in the air. The TelePorter appeared. He dropped to the floor and jerked his head around. When he saw Shadowman, he scrambled away from him.
Shadowman took a step away from him. “Beatrix, how did you do that?”
“I have control over your systems.” Beatrix descended through the air and landed on her feet. “Including your surveillance system and any components attached to it—like say, the portable teleporter you’re attempting to reverse-engineer.”
Shadowman started. Had she so thoroughly infiltrated his system in such a short time? Clever.
“You must be Brody.” Beatrix walked over to the TelePorter. “I have a task for you.” She whispered something in his ear.
“What?” Brody gaped at her.
“Think of it as a reprieve. Since your sister is such a good friend to someone I care for, I am having mercy on you. Off you go, then.” Beatrix snapped her fingers. The TelePorter disappeared in a twinkle.
“What are you doing?” Shadowman clenched his teeth at her. “I was in the middle of an experiment with him!”
“If you wish to have the ability to use your stolen powers, Shadowman, I must ensure a certain Hero doesn’t see me as a threat.” Beatrix smirked. “All the pieces are in place. Soon I will have control over all the Heroes’ powers. And by extension so will you.”
Shadowman smiled, but inside he schemed. He didn’t keep everything on the computer network Beatrix had commandeered. He had to have his secrets. And knowing how wily she could be, there was no way he could trust her to keep her word. No, he had some tricks up his sleeve. He just needed the right time to spring them.
CHAPTER 55
NICOLE LED STARLIGHT and Junior Justice through the fence and to her backdoor. She slid the sliding glass door open and stepped inside. At once, she spotted Stephanie sleeping on the couch.
“She made it.” Nicole sighed in relief. “Looks like she conked out.”
“I’m not surprised after what’s she’s been through,” Junior Justice pushed past her into the house—trampling in as if he belonged there. “I’m ready to pass out myself.”
“I hope we can find her brother.” Nicole stepped in after him.
“Something smells delicious.” Starlight walked in, taking a deep breath.
Nicole sniffed the air. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted out of the kitchen.
“Nicole?” John walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron and holding a pan of scrambled eggs. “Is that—oh, Refraction.” He paused. “Uh . . . to what do I owe the pleasure of—”
As soon as Nicole saw her father, looking so normal and safe, the weight of what had happened bore down on her—learning Finch’s identity, the bank incident, losing Brody to Villains, Beatrix’s escape, watching her do whatever she had done to Margaret, and how Nicole had fried Bee’s system while trying to save her. Bee’s digital scream still resounded in her ears. Her eyes burned, and she felt her face heating up.
“Daddy!” Nicole rushed to him, throwing her arms around him, and sobbed into his shirt.
“Huh? Nikki?” John set the pan down on a hot pad on the counter and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, Pumpkin?”
“It’s Bee.” Nicole snatched the stone from the front of her costume and held it up to him. “Margaret tried to delete her but then I told her not to and she didn’t but then Bee turned into Beatrix and I fried her and now she’s not working anymore.”
John’s eyes roved over Nicole’s face. “Huh?”
Nicole tried to suppress her tears enough to make sense. “Can you fix Bee, Daddy? Please. I think I’m going to lose her for good this time.”
“Okay, Pumpkin. Okay. Calm down.” John took the stone from her. “Let’s see what we can do. You two,” he turned to Starlight and Junior Justice, “we’ll . . . be right back. Have some breakfast while you’re waiting. Come on, Pumpkin.”
He led her into his home office where he sat at his workstation. He set Nicole’s gem into a receptacle attached to his computer and typed a command. Bee’s hologram materialized, but none of Nicole’s customizations appeared. Bee floated in the air, head down. She wore a skintight gray suit, with white, straight hair floating around her, and had a complexion as white as a sheet of paper. There was no personality here, and no uniqueness. Nicole reached out to touch her arm. It was cold and hard—like PVC piping.
“Oh, no.” Nicole held her fists to her mouth. “What happened to her?”
“None of her functions are working. This is her base hologram, sort of a skeleton programmed as a foundation for Bee.” John tapped on his computer. “Let’s see what’s wrong.”
“Startup sequence initialized,” Bee said in a bland, computerized voice. “Running self-diagnosis . . . 2562 errors detected including critical errors in lines 2, 10, 15, 142, 156, and 212 . . . attempting self-repair . . . self-repair failed. Repair attempt terminated. This unit will shut down in three . . . two . . .”
John typed in a command.
“Shut down aborted.”
“Does this mean she’s broken for good?” Nicole held her fists to her mouth in an attempt not to burst into more tears.
“Not necessarily.” John set to work on his keyboard. “Let me try this . . .” He fell silent as he worked.
Nicole gazed at Bee . . . or rather at the skeleton projection which provided Bee’s foundation. Poor thing. She had asked Nicole for protection, but Nicole couldn’t deliver. Worse, she might have been the cause of this. If her actions had harmed Bee . . .
John whistled. “Margaret’s a genius,” he muttered. “She got around all Bee’s security protocols. Alright, this should do it. Reboot.” He hit the enter key.
“Rebooting . . .” Bee’s skeleton disappeared. When she reappeared, her customizations had returned . . . or almost. Gone were her cute, puffy pigtails. Instead, she had her curly hair in a puff. And she looked . . . older—like 16 or 17—the same age Nicole remembered her before Bee had gone away the first time.
When Bee opened her eyes, they immediately settled on John. “Good morning, John.” Her voice was soft and soothing—more mature.
John started. “Good . . . morning, Bee.”
“How are you doing today?” Bee gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Fine.” John furrowed his brows.
Bee let her eyes drift to the ceiling. “Ah, I see. It’s been nine years since I’ve seen you last.” She set her eyes on John again. “I
’m glad to see you were able to mourn Jess without my assistance.”
John gaped at her. He could only nod.
Bee closed her eyes. “Accessing local memory and current personalization settings . . . loading local memories . . . loading personalization settings . . . standby . . .”
“Daddy?” Nicole caught John’s arm. “What was that all about?”
“Do you remember when Bee broke, and I couldn’t fix her?” John ran his hand over his hair. “It seems whatever you and Margaret did reset her.”
Nicole’s heart jumped. “So she’s back to how Mom programmed her?”
“Exactly.”
Nicole’s heart fluttered. Finally, after all these years of trying she would get Bee back—the Bee who acted like a big sister, whose warm hugs comforted her when her mother had died, who told her all sorts of stories about her mom. Bee was back.
But then . . . Nicole’s grin faded. What about the Bee Nicole knew, the one she had worked so hard to customize and teach? Sure, it wasn’t the same as the one Nicole’s mother had created and programmed, but Nicole loved her too. Could she say good bye to her?
“There’s one thing you should consider about Bee, Pumpkin,” John said, unaware of Nicole’s inner conflict. “She’s loading her local memories. I assume it means the ones she’s recorded since you’ve been trying to repair her. Once she’s done, she won’t be the same Bee your mother created for you.”
“What will happen to her?”
“I’m not sure.” John stroked his chin where his stubble was growing in. He probably hadn’t had a chance to shave this morning. “My guess is she’ll be a combination of the two—somewhere between what you created and what Jess did.”
Nicole gazed at Bee, floating with her eyes closed. A new Bee. A hybrid of her Bee and the one her mother had created.
“I rather like the idea.” John smiled at Nicole. “It’s what your mother would have wanted.”
Nicole beamed at her father and threw her arms around him.
“Local memory and personalization settings have loaded . . . initializing . . .” Bee opened her eyes. She didn’t look much different.