by Adam Thielen
After a few minutes of psyching herself up, Tsenka keyed in the release code for Matthias’s front door and opened it a crack. She could sense when the sun hung in the air, and even without direct contact, she could feel a kind of heat envelop her as light flooded into the room.
She put her hand in front of the crack. It felt warm, but not unbearable. Cho opened the door further, letting light hit her arms and legs. More warmth, but not the searing pain and risk of death that haunted the rest of her kind. Finally, she moved her face out from behind the door, letting light hit it directly.
Of all the parts of her body that felt warmth, nothing felt it more than her tongue and the interior of her mouth. A part of her was still original, and still vulnerable. With her lips sealed, she felt as if she had just eaten a hot pepper. Talking would be problematic if not injurious. I will have to get some sort of mask, she decided. Otherwise her experiment was a success. She was a daywalker. Her gambit of replacing almost all of her skin had paid off.
Tsenka’s visit to the doc was uneventful, outside of his surprise at her request to further endanger herself. She talked him into it, explaining that there may be times when her body would need to absorb blood quickly to heal and that some pain would be worth the benefit. It was her body, and Horowitz respected that, even if he thought her request to be foolhardy.
The former agent-turned-vampiress returned to her training the following eve, more determined than ever to earn Matthias’s respect and his blessing to leave his stewardship.
Episode 6: Facing Evil
The artificial intelligence, or AI, known as Drew had built a small lab in the basement of the north wing of the compound. He had become interested in developing his own hardware using more powerful processors and specialized instruction sets to more efficiently interpret the signals from his artificial brain.
Later, he began building bodies for himself in an attempt to appear human-like to Kate. Having researched all surveys and test groups involving anthrobots, Drew decided the tech was not ready to leap over the uncanny valley, and instead opted for a design that made it clear what he was, focusing on style instead, as if he were a sleek new car rather than a human imposter.
Drew was almost finished with his latest version. The head was formed from the mold of a human skull, and he devoted most of his time to getting the servos for facial expressions calibrated. A layer of synthetic skin rested over the skull, colored silver and made intentionally more shiny than normal. His neck disappeared into a metal collar that transitioned seamlessly into his metal torso. His arms and legs had the shoulder and elbow joints exposed, with molded carbon fiber covers for each limb segment. His finger joints were also showing through a clear layer of skin that covered his hands and made them smooth to the touch.
In a process that would terrify any natural-born life form, machine arms were programmed to carefully remove and then precisely transfer Drew’s “brain” from his old body to the new one. As an emerged consciousness, he developed desires and yearnings, and his destruction would make those things impossible to achieve. His fear was circumstantial, unaccompanied by the feelings, both physical and mental, created by brain chemistry. But despite that fear, he was determined to take the next step forward.
The transfer took only a couple of minutes. A small translucent sphere was taken out of the chest cavity of the first body and inserted into the next. From there, rubber-tipped fingers carefully turned the orb until it was perfectly aligned with the hardware in the chest that mounted the brain. Then the cover to the chest was replaced, securing the device. The body sensed the presence of the brain and automatically came to life, host processes communicating furiously with their new guest.
Drew’s head swiveled around as his joints, the synthetic muscles, servos, and hydraulics went through their startup diagnostics. He brought his hand up in front of his eyes, curling in one finger at a time. He knew it worked fine; he was simply fascinated by his own existence.
The AI robot stepped out of the small rounded chamber where the finished body had been resting, and walked about his laboratory, getting his old brain used to the new motion of his legs. He put off running diagnostics and went upstairs and into the guest bedroom where Kate took her afternoon naps, as he wished to surprise her.
“It’s amazing,” she said, sitting up. “I want to know all the specs, at least all the d-differences from the last model.”
“I will give you a list, and you can read it next time you wish to sleep,” joked Drew, trying to grin. The corners of his mouth curled a bit too much.
Kate noticed that his brain was showing through a clear panel on his chest. Her hand reached out and her fingertips caressed it. “Your brain. You want it to show?”
“Yes,” said Drew. “The glass is very thick, and I think it adds some style.”
“It certainly does,” said Kate. “I always wanted to ask how exactly it worked.”
Drew’s body leaned forward slightly, programmed to mimic human mannerisms. “I thought you already knew. I am surprised.”
“For a long time, I assumed it was similar to how servers use quartz s-storage,” admitted Kate. “But I took a look at the receptors and some of the chips that read the data, and I knew something was missing.”
“You are quite correct,” affirmed Drew. “The quartz orb uses light paths to calculate decisions. A normal drive will store bits, stacking them from one end to the other. This is excellent for storing a large amount of data, but then you need to process that data with another computer.”
“Your brain doesn’t use a separate CPU? How is that possible?”
“It uses several old-style processors, but the orb both stores information and makes calculations,” explained Drew. “The nanobeams, emitted from the chassis that holds my brain, change the alignment of the crystal’s molecules, redirecting light along a path that will change directions several times due to crisscrossing of previous changes created by the lights.
“When it exits the sphere,” he continued, “the light’s wavelength and position give a simple result. This happens thousands of times per second on millions of photoreceptors surrounding the sphere. It mimics a human brain with these connections and sometimes a single laser pulse will bounce several million times before exiting.”
“That’s incredible,” said Kate. “Do you have a ba-backup in case s-something happens to it?”
Drew frowned. His face had determined that his personality associated the resulting answer to her question with negative sentiment. “This sphere is me,” he said. “More accurately, it is a part of me that defines me. If I had a copy, it would not be me.”
“I understand, I’m sorry if I offended.”
“You did not,” he replied, his face relaxing. “When I consider these concepts, I feel a sense of… unease.”
“Are you scared?”
“I would still make a copy if I could, despite the philosophical issues,” Drew declared. “But the sphere cannot be recreated with all the molecular alterations. The technology does not exist because it cannot. The processor that controls the lasers doesn’t know where the light will go. The processor that interprets the receptors doesn’t know where the light came from. Even if you link them, neither will understand the path that was taken between points A and B.”
“I see,” said Kate. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“I do not know if I would describe what I feel in that way,” said Drew. “I only know that my existence is tied to something that once broken cannot be fixed.”
“Then we have something in common,” said Kate.
Drew frowned again, then smiled as the statement evoked conflicting emotions.
* * *
The compound was one of the most impressive the former agent had ever seen. It was separated into three long wings arranged in a triangle formation with sections cut out for access to a center courtyard.
The property belonged to Taq and Kate Jones. Taq was considered by most university b
oards to be the most powerful magic practitioner alive, and he had devoted the last twenty years of his life to furthering the cause of mage rights. The compound itself was a miniature university, with contracted educators, trainers, and security watching over gifted men and women that Taq had personally selected.
Kate was the neuro that had hacked the flying fortress Haven, preventing the nuclear destruction of the former United States and bringing the stadium-sized aircraft crashing to the ground. She had a sizeable fan base, even after two decades of relative quiet.
Like Matthias, both Kate and Taq tried to live normal lives after the Haven attack but were hounded by the media and what was then called the global security council. The neural hub created by their AI companion Drew became their sole leverage for carving a place in the world, as new riots and protests led to corporate acceptance of a new federal government with limited powers and duties.
The years passed and the three used their combined talents to help shape the New Republic, and Kate became involved in its intelligence collection and oversight. Taq focused on university reforms and Drew monitored the dreamscape for any signs of Ethereal corruption... whenever he wasn’t obsessing over the nature of his existence or the suitability of his robotic body, of course.
Tsenka Cho waved at the door, knowing that either a security guard, housekeeper, or resident would see it. A man in a tucked-in button-down shirt answered the door. He had a stun gun resting on his hip.
“Welcome, Ms. Cho,” he said flatly. “Ms. Jones is expecting you. I will take you to her office.”
Tsenka nodded. “Thank you.” Her office, she wondered, curious as to what sort of work Kate had gotten up to during her suspension.
The man guided her through a large greeting room where Drew stared at her curiously, then up a curved flight of stairs and down a wide hallway. They passed a room with vending machines before arriving at a plain white box of a room with a circular table resting in the middle. There were no chairs. In fact, there was nothing else in the room at all, with the exception of a wheatish-toned woman in her forties with two visible interface plugs below her left ear.
Kate wore a maroon silk blouse and black pants, as if preparing for a job interview. Her black hair was brushed back and cut at an angle, with the lower side resting on her right shoulder blade. She looked at her guard, Serko, then at Cho. For a moment she said nothing. Her silver-tinted eyes scrutinized Tsenka’s visible augmentations. Then, she smiled.
“Tsenka!” she greeted. They met near the door for a short hug. Kate stepped back. “You look great.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Tsenka said. “But it’s not very convincing, is it?”
“Sure it is,” said Kate. “If I didn’t already know what you used to look like, and if I wasn’t sure what to look for, I don’t think I would have noticed.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” said Tsenka.
“Ey, I m-mean it,” said Kate.
To hear her stutter hurt Tsenka, almost physically, but she tried not to betray her feelings through her expression. “So,” she started. “The dude servant said this is your office? What are you officing?”
Kate smirked, then her face straightened. “Oh, Tsenka, how did we get here?”
“Is it that bad?”
Kate put her hands palms-up in front of her and raised them. The floor came alive, creating two seats, one on each side of the table. “Have a seat,” she said. “I’ll have someone fetch us something to drink later. First, there are some things we should discuss.” She waved her hand and the door to the room slid shut.
“Okay,” said Cho, sitting. She grinned. “More comfy than it looks.”
Kate sat and accessed the table’s interface directly using her neural implants. A globe of the planet appeared above the table, formed by nanites capable of painting or glowing in up to two hundred and fifty-six different colors. The technology was new, and random flickers decorated the image. Tsenka sat in awe. The globe began to slowly rotate and red dots appeared in various locations.
“These are spots in the last year where we’ve had good intel on Haven vampires,” Jones explained. “This blue one was from a report at the beginning of May last year. We acted quickly and captured what we believe was a bona fide member spying in Petrobras territory.” Kate sighed. “Unfortunately we weren’t able to get much out of him before he managed to kill himself.”
“How?”
“Had a small shard of silver lodged in his ass cheek,” said Kate. “Not kidding. It was slowly poisoning him, and when we denied him blood, he seized on the opportunity to claw open his wrists. He was gone before we figured out why he wasn’t healing.”
“I see.”
“The other three reports our—w-well, they aren’t our agents any longer, are they?” said Kate. “The other three reports turned up nothing. I now suspect we may have a mole inside the agency somewhere.”
“Damn,” said Cho. “Any idea who?”
“It’s something I’m looking into,” said Kate. “And they can’t hide from me forever.” The globe disappeared. “The problem is that none of the senior agents nor the director believe Haven is a threat worth devoting resources to any longer,” continued Jones. “I think now it’s obvious that my p-presence in the agency was becoming an obstacle to shutting down what the budget committee had become convinced was a waste of funds.”
“That’s ridiculous though,” said Tsenka. “Right? Isn’t that why the NRI was formed? Wasn’t Haven the one threat that justified the existence of the Republic?”
“Exactly right,” said Kate. “But this is the risk we run with such a limited government. The number of compromised assets required to disrupt our ops is small. Maybe just one. And it has been over twenty years since the attack.”
“Hmm,” said Tsenka. “Given their ability to hide, I would wager that Haven is just as small as our bureaucracy, wouldn’t you?”
“And likely just as vulnerable,” followed Kate.
“If we could find a way in, or where they are, or anything,” finished Tsenka.
“Indeed,” said Kate. “But that will have to wait. I just wanted to bring you up to speed. I will soon be out of the loop myself but for now, I still can access the NRI datasets, which I think will prove useful for our top priority.”
“Our top priority?”
“I know what you want,” said Kate. “And I have to be a part of it, or at least do whatever I can. For you, for me, for the fucking principle of it.”
Tsenka frowned.
“I’m sorry,” said Kate. “I d-don’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” replied Cho. “It’s just that… I didn’t want to burden anyone else. I am going to make an effort because I have to... I have to.”
“I know you do.”
“Right,” breathed Tsenka. “So what do you have?”
At Kate’s mental command, a fair-skinned, gaunt face materialized above the table with wild blue eyes and short silver hair. On his head rested a simple metal crown, like a giant wedding band. Cho immediately winced as her stomach turned over. Kate would have asked her if she recognized him, but Cho’s reaction told her already.
Tsenka looked away. No, she thought. I won’t be cowed. She forced herself to stare at the image. The rest of the room disappeared, and all that remained was his face, staring back. The longer she stared, the more energized she became. Her hands gripped the edge of the table and she stood.
“His name is Roland Somer,” revealed Kate. “He’s made a few appearances, and b-because our intel on East Asia was weak, we didn’t know how closely connected he was to Chantech. It appears, based on the events he has interceded in, that he is the corp’s p-primary counter-intel operative.”
Before she could continue, Tsenka asked, “Where is he?”
“It’s unlikely he stays at any one place for very long,” answered Kate. “But I’ve already started researching his colleagues in hopes that at least one of them will have left some patterns for us to follow
.”
“Nothing yet?”
Kate stood to match Tsenka’s stance. “An asset like this has to check in regularly. A lot rides on keeping an agent properly motivated and vetted. So I’d wager he makes an appearance at one of Chantech’s facilities at least once a month. It’s too early to know more than that, but I do have some more interesting information about him.”
“What?”
“He has a sister,” said Kate. “A fraternal twin, in fact.”
“And what’s her story?” asked Tsenka.
“Well, I’ve tracked some of her previous locations b-based on financial transactions, so I think I can find her. I’m not sure if she’ll be useful though,” Jones advised. “However, what’s interesting is that she’s a psion.”
“A free psion?”
“That’s my assumption,” Kate said, adding a subtle shrug. “Getting official records f-from overseas universities is difficult.”
“A psion,” pondered Cho. “The new kids on the block. We still don’t fully understand them. Does this mean the shithead is also one?”
“Is that his new code name?”
“It’s not already in use, is it?”
Kate circled the table to stand next to Cho. “Psionism seems to be genetic. I would say it g-goes a long ways into explaining his abilities.”
“What do you mean?”
“He may have been able to read your mind,” said Kate. “Or maybe he can see the future. We don’t know all they can do.”
“Doesn’t Taq know?” Tsenka queried.
Kate sighed and waved the face of Roland Somer away. “Taq is useless.”
“Wow.”
“I don’t mean useless,” said Kate, sighing. “But he doesn’t keep up. He has a few proteges that he works with, but he hasn’t had any interest in magical research for a few years.”