by Robin Craig
“Who can say?” she shrugged. “She did let me live despite two chances to kill me. Maybe it is all part of some grotesque plot. But if she’s telling the truth then I have to do it. And if she’s lying I can’t really see what harm it can do. Maybe she’s crazy. But maybe she’s right. So I’m doing it. Are you with me?”
Charlie stared at her, trying to see inside her mind, trying to see past her mind to the shape of the reality behind it, to see whether that reality revealed truth, delusion or madness. Lyssa stared back, and added quietly, in a voice soft but ribbed with steel, “I hope you are. I love you. But I am doing this – with or without you.”
“Lyssa, you know I love you more than life itself. If this is what you want to do, I’ll help you any way I can.”
~~~
It would not have been expensive in their past life, but that life was well and truly past. They counted their savings and it was not enough. They could not go to their rebel organization: there was no way they would approve funds without knowing what they were for, and they could not tell them. Even if they didn’t decide to bomb Kali out of existence simply by reflex, she had stressed that secrecy was vital. But they had enough friends and relatives who would give or lend them money no questions asked, or at least no answers insisted upon.
So a week later Lyssa found herself high above the waves, gliding toward Capital on the cable transporter.
She had ridden the cable once before, early in her relationship with Charlie, before the war. Passenger air traffic in and out of the city was now interdicted but the cable system was still in use. Though it had been built using private funds and was owned by private citizens, in a legal fiction but diplomatic reality it was also owned by the Nation of Capital. So an attack on it would legally be an attack on Capital, and the invaders did not judge its military value sufficient – yet – to risk the diplomatic repercussions from that: being invited into a civil war was one thing, an act of war on another country quite another. Early in the war Capital had even moved its embassy to the landing point on the mainland to underline the fact that any attack on the cable was an attack on another sovereign nation not formally part of the civil war. For all that the international community had more than its fair share of disreputable governments, or perhaps because of it, some lines were best not crossed lest very unfortunate precedents be set.
Or perhaps the military nuisance of the cable was less than the desire of the enemy to eventually have the use of it themselves. In either case it was safe for now.
Lyssa had nothing with her but a backpack holding some supplies and other travel necessities. The last time she had ridden here the sky had been gray and the waves had chopped sultrily below. Yet the day had been made magic and beautiful by the thrill of young love, which turned it into a romantic adventure to an exciting if strange new land. Ironically, on this day the sun shone warmly from a deep blue sky as the waves sparkled far below, but her mood matched the sky of her earlier trip. Charlie was miles behind and she knew she might never see him again; her only companions were fear and doubt held in check by steely resolve.
She looked forward, but could see nothing except the towers and graceful arches of the cable. Once in Capital she would find passage to the hated United States; that should not be difficult, but would use up most of her remaining funds. Then she would find the man Kali sought. What would happen after that was largely out of her hands.
Chapter 25 – Quality Control
“Sir, I think you need to see this.”
Sheldrake turned away from the observation port through which he had been watching the testing of one of their products that was nearing release, and looked at the source of the interruption. One of his assistants was standing there looking nervous, though whether the nerves were for the interruption or the news was an open question.
“Don’t look so nervous. What is it?”
“Sorry sir, you’ll have to come. There’s a recording you need to see. Campaign headquarters down in the FSAS sat on it for over a week before they bothered to report it, but I think it’s important.”
Sheldrake frowned. Bloody South Americans, he thought contemptuously. If it’s important, no doubt they’ll be sending complaints and demanding compensation for our slow response. “OK, OK, let’s see it.”
They went to the nearest secure display station and the assistant fiddled for a few moments before a recording sprang into life.
Sheldrake saw a young woman, grimy but attractive under the grime, looking up toward the camera like she was about to die. He saw the red mark of a laser target spot on her neck and realized that dying was exactly what she was about to do. She said a few words, though apparently the sound hadn’t come through. Then to his surprise the red spot vanished. The image froze, then shattered into writhing lines of interference. They in turn segued into static, and more images came, alternately rising to almost clarity and dissolving into nothing. The images were of a battle. Sheldrake froze. The video was obviously from a Spider, but the battle was with another Spider. The one making the recording had started the fight but the second must have seen it coming, because it had dodged. The end of all the confusion was a final scene with the enemy Spider standing over the transmitting one, clearly victorious though with a jagged scar across the front of its shell where rivulets of metal had run without penetrating. Then it leant closer, there was a brief flare of fire and the video ended abruptly.
Sheldrake looked at his assistant. “What the hell?”
The assistant nodded glumly. “Quite. Why did the Spider making the transmission attack the other one? A malfunction? And what was that thing with the woman all about? Random images from a disintegrating mind?”
Sheldrake considered. “That’s all there is? Nothing left out?”
“That’s it, sir. That’s all they got. The Spider doing the recording sent it and that’s the lot.”
“OK,” Sheldrake finally said. “Our transmitting Spider started it but it must have been the other Spider, the one who won, that was malfunctioning. Otherwise why would it try to jam the transmission? That makes no sense if it was suddenly attacked by a deranged Spider – you’d expect it to be making its own emergency transmission instead – but makes perfect sense if it was the one deranged.”
The assistant said nothing, merely nodded his head slowly. Then he asked, “But what’s with the woman? What’s that doing there?”
Sheldrake thought a while longer, slowly beating his fingers. “Yes… Yes. I think the woman is the clue,” he finally offered. “Let’s have another look at that bit.”
They played it again, carefully examining the footage.
“Ah,” Sheldrake said. “This is footage from a meld, not from this particular Spider itself. You can tell from the codes down the bottom there, though it’s a pity they’re too degraded to read. That has to mean something.”
“A meld? From the other Spider maybe? But why? It doesn’t exactly tell us much.”
Sheldrake just stood, leaning against the bench, with a faraway look in his eyes. Finally the look sharpened into one approaching alarm, and he stood straight. “Shit.”
“What, sir?”
“You can see from the recording that the Spider was targeting the woman and was about to kill her with its laser. Then she said something and it let her live. But she’s not on our side: they not only have electronic identification but they all wear insignia that the Spiders recognize, for obvious reasons. This woman’s some kind of irregular: probably a rebel, though she could just be a citizen in the wrong place. It’s a pity no sound came through. The quality isn’t enough for lip-reading except at the very start, which the AI is telling me is 95% likely to be ‘Please’. So what in hell did she say that made the Spider spare her life?”
“She’s a spy on our side, and used a code word, maybe? Or she offered up information the Spider thought worth an interrogation?”
Sheldrake nodded slowly. “Maybe, maybe… but look. Our dead Spider thought that whatever we
nt on with the woman was related to the other one’s derangement, or it wouldn’t have given it priority for reporting in a combat situation. So. It found something in the meld, something that alarmed it. It started reporting it and things got out of hand. It lost. Then the other one killed it or its transmitter, or it just blew itself up – that’s why the feed just cuts out. With any luck it took out that other Spider in the blast?”
The assistant shook his head. “It doesn’t look like it. They recovered the wreckage of the first one but there was no sign of another. It’s possible it was damaged badly enough to die after it went to ground, though.”
“Damn. OK, you’re right. This is important. There are plenty of other possible explanations, but the one that seems most likely is this. Our missing Spider was going to kill that woman but she not only stopped it, she’s managed to corrupt its programming – enough to make another Spider try to wipe it out. Christ! So our dead one surprises it with a meld request and finds out, but gets blown up for its trouble!”
The assistant looked at him with an expression that mirrored his own.
“Jesus. It might not be right, but we have to assume it is and that we’ve still got a rogue Spider out there. No clues to its identity?”
He shook his head. “No identification was possible from what we got. You know they only rarely ping that they’re active. There are several that we haven’t heard from since this event, but they might just be hiding or lost themselves. For that matter the one we’re after might be pinging to fool us. Since the pings are designed not to give away their location we can’t try to deduce anything from their positions either.”
Sheldrake nodded slowly. “God damn. OK. We don’t want anyone panicking. Tell our friends in the FSAS that it looks like enemy action of an unknown kind and we’re investigating, and that we’ll send them three new Spiders at a steep discount. They know there’s attrition anyway. That should keep them happy.”
The assistant nodded. “I’ll get right onto it, sir.”
Sheldrake walked slowly back to his office, lost in thought, pondering his best strategy. He sat at his desk and called the video of Lyssa up into the air before him, extracting a composite photo of her that was as detailed as the sum of the video would allow. Since this problem had been brought to his attention his mood had congealed from worry into hostility directed at the epicenter of the incident, and he studied the image sourly. “OK, you little bitch,” he said to the image, “What have you done to my Spider – and how the hell did you do it?”
Chapter 26 – Phone a Friend
Bob Masters sat at his desk, running through his endless list of tasks. He wondered how it was possible that he was always precisely one week behind. Surely he should either catch up or fall ever deeper into the hole of the undone. He made a face. Perhaps if he stopped having thoughts like that whenever he had time to think them he would actually catch up.
An icon flashed in the air and he poked it with his finger to accept the call. “Hello Aden,” he said, “What can I do for you?”
“Hi Bob. How’s Sandra and the kids?”
“Oh, we’re all fine. In fact we’re off for a week’s vacation in the woods after I finish up tomorrow. Sandra’s a keen hiker. I’m not sure the kids are so keen, but they’ll love the fishing and the fearful possibility of bears. How’s your life treating you?”
“Oh, same old. But I do have a little problem I was hoping you could help me with.”
“Sure. Always willing to oblige our leading citizens.”
“Here, take a look at this photo. Can you tell me if this woman is on your terrorist watch-list?”
Bob gazed at the photo of Lyssa. “Hang on, I’ll run it through the system for you.”
After a minute he said, “Nope, sorry. Nothing on her. Why? Who is she?”
“That’s what I want to know. She’s a foreign national, probably from the FSAS, and I have reason to believe she is dangerous. She’s caused me some grief down there, and I don’t know how or why she did it. I’d dearly like to find her and ask her a few hard questions.”
“I see. Well… I could put her in the system, tag her for the usual security screening and protocols. Do you have any hard evidence that she’s a terrorist?”
“Nothing I can share, I’m afraid. Frankly, no really hard evidence at all, more just a strong suspicion. But too strong to let it go.”
“That doesn’t give me much to go on, sorry. We aren’t allowed to just stick people in the system – too many ‘rights’ watchdogs, as if the enemy cares about our rights! But can I put her in as ‘lead from a trusted but sensitive source’, maybe? Nobody is likely to look too deeply into that: God knows we have feelers in all kinds of disreputable places!”
“Are you saying I’m disreputable?” Sheldrake asked with mock severity.
“Oh, no! And I’ll tell you what, I’ll bump up the threat level a notch. We’re allowed to have hunches. That’ll give it a bit higher priority, but without too many awkward questions if someone audits it and doesn’t like it; and if it does turn into something, I can bask in my supervisor’s admiration of my prescient instincts.”
“What will that give us?”
“Well, it won’t be high priority, but at least it won’t be forgotten. The AI will include it in its daily sweeps. Not at the top of the list and not in real time, but if your woman pokes her head up anywhere it doesn’t belong it’ll alert us within a day or two. Is that good enough? Or do you want her flagged if she tries to enter the country or something? That might be hard to justify, but if you think she’s that dangerous…?”
“No, no, I don’t think we need to go that far, especially if it might raise questions about why we’re looking. This is pretty sensitive, Bob, so keep it low key. Really, I just want to find out who she is and where I can find her. Whatever mischief she’s up to, I expect she’s keeping it within the FSAS. I can’t see what she’d gain by leaving her country, let alone coming here.” That would be a sight, with her pet Spider carrying her suitcase.
“OK, done. Is there anything else I can help you with, Aden?”
“No, that’s it. And I do appreciate your helpfulness: there’s a glass of well aged Bourbon waiting for you next time you’re up here.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” he replied, then cut the connection.
Sheldrake sat back and smiled. She has to turn up somewhere, he thought. If she’s good enough to compromise a Spider’s system she’s not going to stop there. And if she doesn’t, there’s more than one way to skin a bitch.
Chapter 27 – Dinner at Benson’s
Beldan was in his office, leaning back in his form-hugging leather chair, eyes closed. His days were filled with all the tasks that fell on the shoulders of the CEO of a large company, but he always made time when he could just think and reflect.
Unfortunately, as had been too often the case in the last weeks, his thoughts turned to Miriam Hunter. They had found nothing useful about what she’d done after she left Aden Sheldrake’s office. Pretty much all they knew was that she had left: their attempts to trace her path after that had led nowhere. She had made her final report, turned her phone off and left it off, and nobody where her car had been seen was admitting anything. None of it made any sense. Her movements up to her interview with Sheldrake showed her usual pattern of thoughtful determination, though there was an unexpected edge of ennui to her recorded thoughts. Unfortunately most of the people she had spoken to in that phase of her investigation were nowhere to be found. Beldan found that disturbing. It was like a mirror of the mystery that had taken Miriam there in the first place.
It was if she had crossed some threshold between leaving her lodgings and showing up in Sheldrake’s office. It was as if some other person had taken her place, someone who forgot her friends, forgot her job, and fell into a self-destructive spiral with a speed that even a Hollywood actor would find breathtaking. Perhaps that was an illusion. Perhaps the foundations had been invisibly rotting for a long time
until only a hollow shell presented itself to the world: then when the final support had broken her full collapse had followed rapidly and inevitably.
He wished he had talked to her. He wished he could forget her.
An incoming call had been flashing on his screen unnoticed, and finally pinged impatiently for his attention. He looked at the screen and frowned in surprise. It was as if his musings had invoked a demon: it was Aden Sheldrake. He accepted the call, and Sheldrake’s face appeared before him.
“Good afternoon, Dr Beldan,” he said. “I hope this is not a bad time?”
“No, not at all. In fact I was just thinking about you. How can I help you?”
Sheldrake gave a self-deprecating grimace. “Thinking about me? Why? Have you made any progress in your investigation? Or is it a business issue?”
“Oh, not you in particular. Just thinking about the case, yes. Trying to make sense of the change in Miriam. Failing.”
“I’m sorry, Dr Beldan. I truly wish I could give you more information. But I think you are beating your head against a wall that you will never penetrate. Do yourself a favor and just remember her how she was.”
He must have seen something in Beldan’s eyes, for he added quickly, “Please forgive me, Dr Beldan. I shouldn’t give unsolicited advice on such a personal matter.”
Beldan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, you’re probably right. But I’m sure you didn’t call to discuss my unresolved personal issues. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I suppose we are acquaintances now, and I hope it is not an imposition to say I need some help. And you are a man of unique talents and experience relevant to my problem. It is not something I can talk about on the phone. Can we meet for dinner tonight? I have to visit your fine city anyway, so I can kill two birds with the one stone.”