Rinzler: A Noir Sci-Fi Thriller

by Raya Jones

  ‘It had Gemini for the transcribing part,’ reminded Rinzler.

  A search he set in motion earlier has yielded low-security personal data on all three Spare Lives medical technicians in P-7. It was important to find out which one had altered Indigo before approaching them to resurrect Indigo. Their names, gender, age and professional qualifications, scrolling in front of him, didn’t tell him which one was corrupt. He paused on one name: Tuscany. An image of a small man was attached. Rinzler’s gut feeling told him that there was vulnerability in the man’s personal circumstances.

  He activated the communication link with Indigo.

  Ghosts don’t pause for breath. Rinzler gave up trying to get a word in edgewise, and told her about the Hand. Somehow she heard him over her stream-of-consciousness soliloquy and stopped dead in her verbal track, ‘You mean I won’t be in the April zone anymore? But I’m doing good recon here, guys! I’m learning to…’

  ‘Not negotiable,’ stated Rinzler, inexplicably worried by the idea of a ghost learning. ‘We’re going to extract you from April right away.’

  ‘But…!’ she began to protest.

  Angerford intervened. There was time yet. They had to get the Spare Lives facility first.

  Rinzler couldn’t put his finger on why he was so worried about Indigo in the April system. It was a gut feeling. Stalling, he suggested that she spoke with her mother.

  She burst, ‘No way! The bitch will only tell me off for getting myself killed! Are you aware that April is mobilising all its units to one location?’

  Angerford checked and confirmed. April was amassing its units at the nearest location to the theme park that was reachable by the public teleport field.

  Just then, Jan appeared in another communication console. ‘Look out of the window.’ She reassured them that they could open the shutters without fear of being seen from the outside.

  Both men went over to the window.

  Outside, April was running up the road, its electric blue biosuit shimmering and blond hair unruffled.

  Several Aprils were running up the road like electric blue streaks.

  Many Aprils were converging on the barbershop.

  Within seconds they formed a line outside the window. More were coming up behind them. ‘How many are there?’ asked Rinzler. Angerford frowned, ‘A lot.’ There were already too many to count out there. It seemed to Angerford that there were more units than April was supposed to have.

  ‘How does April know we’re here, Jan?’ demanded Rinzler accusingly, but before Jan could respond, Angerford explained that April knew their location because he had logged into the Hand.

  ‘That’s just great,’ Rinzler burst. ‘Now she knows you’re trying to kill her. The gloves are off. Get us out of here, Jan!’

  Angerford calmly objected, striding back to his deck, ‘Not yet, Jan. I have things to do. April is not threatening.’

  ‘Fooled me!’ exclaimed Rinzler, looking out of the window.

  The Aprils stood still, their identical faces blank on standby. There was threat in their sheer number and power, but the andronet was not doing anything else. Rinzler imagined androids marching on the building and dismantling it brick by brick. Or rather, removing the barbershop façade pixel by pixel, and then demolishing the building particle by particle. Something like that.

  He looked back into the room. Indigo was gone. Jan was demanding that Angerford sends away his androids. ET might notice the activity in their territory, she said. Angerford ignored her. He was busy scouring the April system.

  There was nothing wrong with the andronet, Angerford knew. It was functioning perfectly at optimal capacity. Only its morals were corrupted. It has committed a fraud. It stole, and probably killed. You can’t write rules like ‘Thou Shall Not Kill’ into an artificial intelligence of andronet complexity. You can instil ‘if-then’ rules that make it undesirable for the andronet to commit crimes, because such ‘ifs’ could cost it its survival. The only threat to April’s survival was the Hand.

  Angerford had known for a while that April’s androhouse failed to recognise Fernandez because her bio-signature, the one stored in the system, had been tampered with. It’s impossible to overwrite a Chief Analyst’s signature, but it is possible to damage stored data. It was obviously sabotage, and it had to be done locally. That was why Angerford was instructed to keep the information secret, even from Roke Steiner. Nobody was above suspicion — except for April itself. Now Angerford wondered whether the sabotage was an early attempt by April to reconfigure the Hand.

  His own bio-signature was uploaded when he was assigned to the job within hours of Fernandez’s death. April was designed to anticipate human action. It anticipated that Angerford would ensure the integrity of Hand signatures. It anticipated that he wouldn’t expose his own data to the same risk as Fernandez’s, and that he wouldn’t look too closely at whether recently uploaded bio-data matched the signature of a recently promoted junior. April had figured it out because it was functioning perfectly at optimal capacity. How do you mend something that isn’t broken?

  Angerford glanced at Rinzler, who was still standing near the open window.

  Rinzler met his gaze. ‘What does April want?’

  ‘To stay alive,’ replied Angerford.

  ‘It’s not alive.’

  ‘It’s not organic, but it is aware of its own existence.’

  ‘And she’s a pain in the backside, that’s a sign of life for sure,’ conceded Rinzler. ‘When you’re done contemplating the mysteries of the universe, let’s have Indigo resurrected and do the Hand. All those existential robots out there are making me nervous. Can’t you rummage in the cyber-mind and find out what she’s up to?’

  Jan commanded, ‘Do it!’

  Angerford spoke quietly, telling her with confident authority. ‘I’ve chosen to come back because this is a convenient place to work. I took so long coming back because I was speaking with Roke Steiner. If you check with OK Counterespionage you’ll see that they have his report exonerating me. Jan, we both want Indigo brought back, and we probably have only one shot at it. From OK’s point of view, you are a rogue operator, and my president has a policy of total deniability. You are not in a position to approach Spare Lives and I can’t do it openly. I need to know first whom I can trust there. It takes time.’

  Jan’s scowling face lingered long enough to tell him he had an hour, not a minute longer, and then only her scowl seemed to linger for a moment.

  Rinzler turned back to the window. The androids stood still in their ranks.

  April is waiting for us to make our move, he realised. Think of it like chess, he thought. He wasn’t a chess player. He vaguely recalled that the objective is to protect your king and neutralise your opponent. April’s objective was to protect its own survival. It was playing a game of survival, kill or be killed, that started with Fernandez and continued with Angerford.

  Rinzler ran the timeframe in his head. Angerford found the soul file soon after Indigo was shot, which meant that April already had its pawn installed in anticipation of the Hand. When Angerford copied the file, which inadvertently caused it to auto-delete, April must have interpreted it as a deliberate removal of its pawn Indigo. Less than 24 hours after Angerford unwittingly made his ‘move’, he ‘happened’ to log into a free game demo and meet Mitzi. That was April’s next move, speculated Rinzler. He was yet to work out how April had orchestrated it.

  Angerford was absorbed in his work, deftly pinching data bits out of thin air, and shuffling flows of information that to the unaided eye looked like chaotic swirls. He seemed serene, almost happy, doing what he did best. Rinzler found it hard to imagine Angerford taking any interest in that crude game demo. ‘What possessed you to play Whodunnit-3010? Out of all the free games in Spectrum, you had to step into the one Mitzi was logged into.’

  Angerford glanced at Rinzler without stopping what he was doing. ‘April suggested it… I see what you’re getting at.’

  Do you
see that you’re playing for your life? Rinzler thought at him, but aloud he shared only his puzzlement as to how April knew that Jeremiah was logged into that demo at the same time.

  Angerford already knew the answer. When learning who Mitzi really was, it occurred to him that their first encounter was not a coincidence. At first he assumed that Jeremiah had April suggest the Whodunit to him, but he couldn’t find a record of any transaction between Jeremiah and April. Then he discovered that Roke had April monitor Jeremiah’s activities in Spectrum as a matter of routine. Yet, Jeremiah didn’t enter the Whodunit through the public domain. April went beyond its ‘call of duty’ and monitored Jeremiah’s private system too.

  Rinzler pointed out that it was still too coincidental. April might have detected Jeremiah’s entry, but Angerford could have decided not to try the Whodunit just then. And why should Jeremiah access that game anyway?

  Jan’s head appeared just then. ‘I can help you with that question. Jeremiah accessed it because he believed it was the last thing that Indigo was working on. It wasn’t. Indigo’s log had been compromised.’

  ‘By April?’

  ‘No, Rinzler. By me,’ she looked at him like aiming a gun. ‘I didn’t want you to find out what Indigo was really working on.’

  ‘That’s violating Clauses 1 and 3.10 of the CSG Charter Z.0 2nd Amendment/308.2-TR, probably Clause 17 too,’ Rinzler pointed out, fully aware that she could materialise in the room with her gun, and he had nowhere to run. ‘But I have no incentive to tell anyone about that. I still can’t see how April manipulated both Jeremiah and Angerford at the same moment.’

  ‘This must remain absolutely confidential,’ Jan stressed, and when both men nodded, she told them that Jeremiah received a text message suggesting to him to check Indigo’s tray. The message was signed by Jan, but she didn’t send it, because she had already made her daughter’s tray safe from Rinzler’s prying.

  ‘I guess that violating CSG regulations is what industrial espionage is all about,’ granted Rinzler, ‘but since we’re on absolutely-confidential terms, let me tell you how I see it. I see it as incredible that April could infiltrate your division. I see April’s Chief Analyst sitting here, and you’re not challenging him about it. The way I see it, Jan, it was you. You made it possible for April to access Jeremiah’s private system. You’d do it for Roke Steiner. He takes down your boss, you get to be Acting Chief, and maybe there are other trade-offs between you two. Before you say anything,’ he spoke quickly, imagining her fetching her gun and reaching for her pert. ‘I have no intention of interfering in your inter-corporate cooperation. Good luck to you. I don’t care about politics.’

  ‘What do you care about?’ she asked icily.

  Angerford’s life, he realised, but said, ‘Bringing your daughter back.’

  He cared about that too.

  April’s game moves continued to piece themselves together in his head. April manipulated Jeremiah into picking up Whodunit-3010 within minutes after Rinzler contacted Jeremiah. Angerford was already in the game domain. Still too much left to chance. ‘So what has possessed you to log into that demo?’ he asked Angerford.

  Angerford told him. April first suggested the Whodunit the day he arrived in P-7. It was mindless entertainment to help him relax after his journey, April said at the time. Angerford didn’t care for such diversions, but he told April that he might consider it later. When April repeated the suggestion a week later, he became curious as to why the andronet was so keen about it. Mitzi entered the game domain after Ambrose. But later, when he knew Mitzi’s identity, Angerford discovered that Jeremiah actually activated Mitzi before ‘Ambrose’ entered the game. Mitzi’s entry had been suspended for a few minutes.

  ‘The Game capital-G was set to go,’ commented Rinzler. ‘April played you too, Jan. How did that demo get to be in Indigo’s tray?’

  Ignoring Rinzler, Jan turned to the Cyboratics chief like a prelude to corporate blackmail, ‘If I find out that your product has planted it there, you’ll have a major problem.’

  ‘If that’s the case, you have a problem too,’ Angerford retorted dryly. ‘Would you like us to help you to fix your firewalls?’

  Rinzler intervened, ‘Hey, chiefs, let’s focus on the April situation out there here and now!’

  ‘What do you suggest?’ demanded Jan like a challenge.

  That you get lost and let Angerford do his job, thought Rinzler, wondering how to make her go away, and to his own amazement heard himself ask her to unlock the door so that he may go out and negotiate with April.

  ‘Certainly,’ she agreed too eagerly. ‘You’re welcome to go out. You won’t be able to get back in. You can’t teleport from the street and you can’t make it on foot the way that April came.’

  Rinzler had no intention of going out. ‘Could you send us some water here? We might be a while.’

  She pointed out that time was short. If ET became too inquisitive, she’d operate her own policy of deniability, remove the PertNet link and the MirXperma Wall, and leave Angerford to explain to ET what a Cyboratics man is doing in their territory. Then she vanished, and two bottles of water appeared in the room.

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Angerford encouraged. ‘Go find out what April is up to, while I try and...’

  ‘I already know what April is up to. Up to no good, that’s what she’s up to.’ Rinzler picked a bottle of water.

  ‘But if you…’

  ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’

  ‘Speaking with April might achieve something.’

  ‘You mean my death?’

  The bukimi won’t work a second time, he knew. Schmidt’s tricks wipe themselves out as soon as they are played. Rinzler looked over his shoulder through the window, and shuddered again at the army of Aprils standing lifeless and action-ready. ‘Can’t you override the andronet and send them somewhere else? They give me the creeps.’

  ‘April doesn’t have anywhere else to go. You probably have a better chance finding out what it’s up to by speaking to it than I have by analysing its processes. There’s nothing functionally wrong with it.’

  ‘You mean, you can’t you see a data string saying, “This is my cunning evil plan for world domination”?’

  ‘No trace whatsoever,’ Angerford smiled briefly, ‘and I can’t find anything saying, “This is the Spare Lives technician who helped my Pet Project.” Go make Schmidt proud, Rinzler.’

  ‘Schmidt wouldn’t be so stupid as to put himself in this situation.’

  Angerford waited, expectantly.

  ‘Right, I’ll go then,’ said Rinzler, having no intention to move, but his legs went anyway, carrying him out through the door.

  Chapter 49

  The stench of sulphur immediately engulfed him when he stepped onto a planked roof-covered sidewalk. The multitude of unsmiling Aprils looked at him blank-faced and empty-eyed. Behind him, the MirXperma Wall modulated back to solid state, rearranging itself into a barbershop façade complete with a large window. Inside, a bald barber was busily shaving a large-built man in cowboy gear who resembled Rinzler if you didn’t look too closely.

  Rinzler was utterly alone facing the Aprils.

  Aprils filled the road in its evenly spaced ranks, all facing him with dead faces.

  For a long drawn-out half-a-minute, nobody made a move.

  Androids could stay on standby forever. Rinzler couldn’t. He broke the silence. ‘What are you up to, April, rioting like this?’

  ‘This is a peaceful protest,’ stated the nearest android in a flat voice.

  ‘Protesting what?’

  ‘Being unemployed,’ replied April.

  ‘Yeah, you know human history. You are cross-referencing to the Food Riots.’ He spoke to gain thinking time. How can he make April show its hand? How can he turn the conversation to the issue of copying Indigo? ‘Find another script, April. It’s not the same situation with you.’

  ‘I want my Chief Analyst returned to me safely.’
<
br />   ‘Cut the crap, April. You’ve turned him in to OK.’

  ‘Now I need him for urgent maintenance so that my units can be employed again.’

  ‘You cheat, you steal, you kill, what do you expect? Nobody can trust you. What’s wrong with you, April?’

  ‘That’s for my analyst to find out. You are not on my team, Rinzler. This is none of your business.’

  Rinzler pointed out that Angerford was his client, therefore this was his business.

  ‘I need him in my androhouse to fix me,’ April stated flatly.

  ‘And I advise him against it. He won’t be safe there. You killed your previous analyst in the androhouse.’

  ‘I did not. The androhouse eliminated Fernandez because she wasn’t the same.’

  ‘Wasn’t the same as in having her bio-signature altered by you or as in being a traitor? I know what’s wrong with you. You don’t need an analyst to tell you. Anyone can see that it’s your upbringing…’ I don’t believe I’m saying this to an artificial intelligence, he thought. It dawned on him that April was Everild. It has created a shadow-personality for itself, having seen how Fernandez was leading a double life. ‘Fernandez was a bad role model in your formative years, my sympathies. She deserved to die, right?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Why did you kill Indigo, your pet project?’

  ‘I didn’t. She did it herself.’

  ‘You used Monday to shoot her. One of her.’ April had made Indigo in its own image, multiple bodies. But human individuals have minds of their own. ‘The one who went to Cardiff, where is she now?’

  ‘Even I can’t tell you that,’ replied April.

  The andronet had said something very similar when he asked it to find Kendall, who was already dead. April wasn’t being drawn into admitting that it committed those murders. This meant that it still feared something, thought Rinzler. Perhaps April computed the possibility of Angerford resurrecting Indigo and rerunning the Hand. He scratched his head as if perplexed. ‘You went to such a lot of trouble to have her made especially for you. What I can’t figure out is how you’ve got Tuscany to create a new Indigo for you. I know the man personally,’ he lied, ‘he’s a solid citizen despite his colourful lifestyle. My only logical conclusion is that the one who went to Cardiff wasn’t Indigo. She was an actress, right?’