Weaponized Human (Robot Geneticists Book 3)

by J. S. Morin

  Eve still had one of the paintings Plato had made of her. Nora109 had bargained a committee seat for it and given it to Eve as a gift. She kept it hidden in her office, behind a panel with a biometric scanner that would hide it away when Plato was around.

  As much as Eve loved that painting, she didn’t want to be forced into a life of confinement, producing shabby artwork for the very robots who feared her.

  Yet at the same time, Eve was a politician now. Her reputation was her stock in trade. Owning up to this catastrophe could prove, once and for all, that despite any other shortcoming she might have, Eve Fourteen could be trusted to face the uncomfortable truths of human existence.

  “Well?” Plato asked. “You with me on this?”

  Eve took a deep breath and gave Plato her answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Zeus hefted his golf clubs into the back of his skyroamer and waved a parting goodbye to James18. It had been tempting to dump the useless, wedge-ended mallets in one of the water hazards, but that would have offended his host to no benefit for Zeus. Getting away from the HPA for the afternoon had been a necessity; James18 had been accommodating in taking the afternoon away from his desert botanical work to play a round of golf in the first place.

  The course, at least, had been visually appealing. The aroma of cut grass was surprisingly comforting after nearly a thousand years without a sense of smell. The brisk walk and fresh air had been bracing. If only the game itself hadn’t been dull, frustrating, and arcane in its rules.

  James18 didn’t linger. Hopping aboard his red-painted skyroamer with the early-auto-era racing stripe, the robot took off the second his ion engines had powered up.

  Zeus kept his wave lazily drifting back and forth until James18 was over the horizon.

  Once he was alone, Zeus plugged his computer into the tiny port at the back of his skull. It was time to report in.

  “Charlie7 survived. Olivia has been recovered,” Zeus said, letting the transmitter of the computer strapped to his back take care of the voice conversion.

  “Not unexpected,” the voice on the other end of the connection replied. There was no need for identification on this channel. “It would have been a temporary measure anyway. Until we find someone who can alter the tampered files at Kanto, there’s nothing permanent we can do to him.”

  “I still think winning over one or two of the Madison Maxwell-Chang clones is the best course of action,” Zeus said. “Not Eve, obviously, but we should take a step back and groom one of the younger ones.”

  “There are no steps back in science,” the voice lectured.

  “Don’t presume to explain scientific progress to me,” Zeus snapped. Dale Chalmers wasn’t a tenth the scientific genius that Charles Truman had been.

  “Did you cover your tracks well enough? Are you certain there is no trail that could lead back to you?”

  “As certain as anyone can be,” Zeus said with a shrug. “Atlas is just a ghost in the Social. There’s no reason for anyone to connect him to me. I cleared out Olivia’s Social account of anything incriminating and only left the bare minimum of clues for Charlie7 to find her. We’re clean.”

  There was a harrumph from the other end of the connection. “Well, just keep clear of Charlie7 as best you can. We can minimize his impact so long as the rest of the plan plays out. Any progress on that end?”

  “I can handle Charlie7,” Zeus promised. “My conversational shift algorithm keeps me from talking like Charlie25, and he hasn’t caught on after months. I can keep him out of my way. As for the rest, the house of cards is ready to topple. The Human Welfare Committee is imploding; I hardly have to do a thing.”

  “Don’t let it stabilize.” The connection closed.

  Zeus glared into the evening sky. Mars wasn’t visible to the human eye, but that didn’t stop him from aiming his ire in that direction.

  “Prick,” Zeus muttered.

  One day he would have that self-righteous bureaucrat’s brain in the palm of his hand. And when he did, that would be the end of Dale2. This was Charles Truman’s world, and Zeus was enough Charlie to believe that made it his.

  Chapter Forty

  As the autopilot of her skyroamer guided her back to Paris, Eve buried her face in her hands and cried. There was no one here to see her. She could be flawed and emotional and irrational and scared and… human.

  Most of the time, Eve tried her best to fit in, to prove that she was the equal of her robotic colleagues and deserved their respect. Respect, expertise, judgment, these were the currency of Eve’s chosen profession.

  Eve saw and heard what the robots thought about her younger sisters. Phoebe was amusing but irresponsible. Olivia couldn’t decide what to do with her life. From Rachel on down the line, the rest were treated as children—and not without reason. As for Plato’s brethren, they ran the gamut of emotionally damaged. Other than being able to feed and dress themselves, the consensus was that they were little better off than the residents at the Sanctuary for Scientific Sins.

  Say this for Evelyn11: at least she turned the Eves into functioning humans. Charlie24 had left his test subjects scarred mentally and physically and in some cases, it seemed, beyond repair.

  Eve was the exception. While Plato and Zeus were contributing members of society, they were muscle for the HPA and nothing else. Eve was the lone human to chair a committee, the only one with robots in subordinate positions to hers.

  So it was only when she was completely alone that Eve could let her tears flow.

  What had she done?

  Plato had killed Evelyn44. That wasn’t anything Eve could change.

  But Eve had murdered Evelyn44’s career.

  The hopeful robot who’d wanted to find cures for the sickest and most helpless among humanity’s second generation had been recast, like that Batman character from Plato’s movies. Everyone was supposed to think this was the same Evelyn44, but Eve knew it was a different person behind the mask.

  Plus, this wasn’t just a recasting of a character. This was a re-characterization of a person. Plato uploaded an old Social ID he’d hacked, giving Evelyn44 access to an account that had traded in backroom deals for genetic materials with Evelyn11 and Elizabeth17. All of Evelyn44’s goals and aspirations took on a sinister new aspect in light of those revelations. No longer a benefactor of mankind, she’d become a villain trying to cover her tracks while basking in all the glory and adulation that her ill-won science could glean.

  Eve told herself that Evelyn44 was dead either way. It was the reputation of a deceased robot versus her own life—Plato’s too. The ease of that justification left a sour taste in her mouth. It made Eve wonder, too, how much of Human Era history might have been written falsely by those protecting their own roles in events.

  “Charlie7 to Eve. Come in, Eve.”

  The voice from the cockpit speakers startled Eve from her spiraling guilt. Rubbing her eyes and wiping them dry on her sleeve, she fumbled her goggles back into place on her face.

  “Eve here,” she replied, fighting to keep her voice steady. She had to focus to avoid automatically enabling the camera to actively broadcast her face; her eyes were certainly puffy even behind the concealment of the goggles.

  “Eve!” Olivia shouted over the connection. “You’re alive!”

  A chuckle bubbled up that nearly started Eve weeping again. “Oh, Olivia. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “I was fine,” Olivia assured her. “I was just camping. 60.604777 North by 139.077954 West.”

  Eve did some mental estimating, not bothering to convert Olivia’s voice into a text search of the Earth. “Alaska?”

  Olivia giggled. “No, the Yukon, silly. I wasn’t in any danger. I’d brought everything I needed for a few weeks on my own. Charlie stopped by to blow up my skyroamer and bring me back in his.”

  “Wait, what? Blow up your skyroamer?” There was a general failing in storytelling where Olivia was involved. She included the details that interested h
er, not the ones that brought together a cohesive accounting of events.

  “Long story,” Charlie7 cut in. “This wasn’t an impromptu trip. Someone lured her out here, jammed all signals in a two-hundred-kilometer radius or thereabouts, and planted explosives in her skyroamer.”

  “Someone wanted to kill Olivia?” Eve asked, jaw hanging open.

  “I don’t think so,” Charlie7 replied. “Listen, I’m not 100 percent confident in our channel’s encryption right this minute. Let’s meet up somewhere and get off the airwaves.”

  Airwaves? Eve echoed mentally. Charlie7 came up with the oddest expressions at times.

  “Fine. Let’s meet… oh, how about Kansas Agrarian Zone 017? Building 9 has a yogurt factory. And you can go ahead and send a broadcast on the news feeds that Olivia has been safely recovered.”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea yet,” Charlie7 replied. “I’ve sent word to Plato and Zeus—mostly to keep them from doing anything stupid—but other than that, we’re keeping this quiet.”

  Eve kept quiet herself on the subject of Plato doing something stupid. But the Olivia news blackout didn’t make sense. “Why not? If we announce she’s safe, anyone planning on making her disappear again would have to worry about a larger public outcry. There would be no claims that she’s just run away and would be fine.”

  “I didn’t run away,” Olivia broke in. “I flew and hiked. And I didn’t have to tell anyone because I’m emancipated. And I am fine.”

  “More importantly,” Charlie7 said, taking control of the microphone again on his end. “Someone out there wanted Olivia to disappear. The longer it takes them to realize she’s been found, the more time we gain on them reacting to the change. Enough for now though. Can’t tip our hand. See you in Kansas.”

  Back to Kansas. It wasn’t quite a halfway point. It was dark there already, too. Eve wouldn’t catch up with the sunrise on the way. In fact, she’d only delay seeing the sun.

  Right then, Eve could have used a good sunrise to remind her that the darkness hadn’t consumed her for good.

  With the night shrouding her skyroamer and the voice channel closed, Eve pushed up her goggles and resumed crying.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Golf was perhaps the weirdest game ever invented. Plato stood squinting at the head of his driver, wiggling the club back and forth and watching the shaft flex. Glancing down at the tiny dimpled white ball, perched on its tee, he wondered how he was supposed to swing the club as hard as he could, hit the ball, and have the least bit of control over where it went.

  The clubs were so new they were still warm from the protofab.

  “Muscle memory,” Zeus explained with a sigh. “I’m awful at it, too. I was just here yesterday, and James18 wiped the course with me.”

  “So… we’re both going to be awful at it, you didn’t enjoy it yesterday, and yet you wanted to play again today,” Plato said slowly, trying to find the logic in the whole endeavor.

  “You said you had a lot on your mind,” Zeus replied. “This gets us away from civilization for a while, lets us enjoy the fresh air, and just be guys. I’ve got beers for us, snacks. It’ll be like a roving barbecue cookout with some competition mixed in.”

  Plato peered at the distant pennant, flapping in the wind at the end of the hole. Then he looked down at his ball on the tee. “You said there’s no interaction on the course. I can’t hit your ball or play defense or anything. What kind of sport is this?”

  “It’s mostly a social outing,” Zeus explained. “There’s even a time-honored tradition of cheating on the scorecard.”

  “Huh…” Plato grunted, shaking his head. “Well, here goes nothing.”

  With a few slow stretches, teasing the ball with the club face as he lined up his shot, Plato hauled back and gave a mighty swing. A dull thump sounded, and a clod of dirt flew forward, scooped from the tee area as Plato’s club acted the part of a shovel.

  The ball dribbled forward, not even making it as far as the divot Plato had carved.

  “One,” Zeus counted aloud.

  But Zeus’s own shot wasn’t much better. The ball went farther, but not straight, and even then it had acquired a side spin that sent it twisting even more wildly off course.

  “One,” Plato taunted.

  The two agents continued along, hacking up the course and sending golf balls whizzing off in every direction, eventually ending in rattle and clatters as the ball settled into the cup after every hole.

  Beers cracked open. Empties were left on the fairway for groundskeeper drones to collect. Zeus heated up sausages in a portable microwave the size of a water bottle.

  The mood lightened as the morning wore on. The scores tallied up, with numbers ranging into the triple digits on a course with a par of seventy-two. Whoever came out ahead, he was going to be the least loser rather than any sort of winner. Plato and Zeus cursed to their hearts’ content as roughs, sand traps, and water hazards cost them strokes.

  Eve wasn’t around to scold them for it.

  As Plato waded out of an artificial pond with his ball in hand, he couldn’t help making a comment. “Why aren’t there drones for this?”

  “I think they expect you to leave them behind,” Zeus guessed.

  Plato scowled. “I only printed one. I’m not going back to the tech shack for another.”

  He dropped his ball in the grass, wiped his hands on his pants, and took a measured swing with his driver. The ball splashed into the water again.

  “The angled ones make it pop in the air,” Zeus pointed out.

  “Yeah, but they suck,” Plato retorted. “I’ve got this club working fine—most of the time. Gotta know your limits.”

  This time, upon eventually locating his ball, Plato simply waded the rest of the way across the pond. His bag of clubs left a wake in the water as the bottom dragged.

  “Hope this is getting your mind right,” Zeus said as Plato emerged, dripping wet up to his chest. “Must have been one heck of an ordeal, whatever you and Eve were mixed up in.”

  “Quit that,” Plato said. “If you’re fishing for whether me and Eve are off playing Beauty and the Beast, blow it out your tailpipe. We were investigating a potential threat Eve uncovered.”

  “Oh?” Zeus asked, tone shifted from mischievous to professional curiosity. “Who’s the suspect?”

  “Evelyn44.”

  Zeus stifled a burst of laughter. After a moment studying Plato’s serious expression, his mirth relaxed into a furrowed brow. “Wait. You’re serious. Evelyn44 is one of Charlie13’s proudest creations. She’s been a humanitarian since before there were humans. Dolphins like her, and dolphins are assholes. You can’t seriously think she’s guilty of human cloning before getting her license.”

  Plato popped the top off a beer bottle. After a long chug that emptied half the contents, he belched and sighed. “Well, maybe I wiped her before we could find proof of that,” he admitted. “But it’s gonna be OK. It’s gonna look like there was some shady stuff in her past that she was covering up.”

  Zeus was mid-swing, and his ball went skittering off into a sand trap as he jerked upright.

  “What?” Zeus exclaimed. “You killed her?”

  “She was preparing Eve for upload,” Plato said. “Couldn’t take the risk.”

  Zeus was quiet for a moment. He stared off into the distance. “I guess you did what you had to do.”

  A huge weight lifted off Plato’s shoulders. The bag of golf clubs was a burden of feathers by comparison. “Thanks. Glad someone understands. Not sure Eve’s in. She was pretty shook up leaving Sicily.”

  Slowly, Zeus turned and fixed Plato with a serious gaze. “Eve knows?”

  “Well, yeah,” Plato said. “She was there the whole time. We looked for evidence that Evelyn44 was guilty but couldn’t find anything. I told her I’d take care of everything.”

  “Did you?” Zeus asked. “Are there any traces of your involvement?”

  “Of course,” Plato said with a
shrug. “I mean, I’m not new at this. It wasn’t until I busted Eve out of Evelyn11’s clutches the second time that I came out of the shadows. I was in the building. My DNA is everywhere as a result of my search. The stuff in the computers, there’s nothing traceable back. I had Evleyn44’s own laser-etched death code to make it all look legit.”

  Zeus’s face went ashen. “Her what?”

  Plato grinned. “Yeah, bet you didn’t know about that. Only a few robots in Kanto know what really goes on in those robotic brains of yours. But there’s a hard-coded bit in microscale laser etch, untouchable by EMP. Whenever a robot dies and they need to get into their files, they send the body to Kanto, and someone mysteriously breaks the encryption. The codes you robo-brains come up with are always based on the laser etch.”

  Zeus’s head shook slowly in denial. “Not me. I’ve still got a human brain in this crystal prison.”

  Plato shrugged. “Maybe. But trust me, no one is going to know it was me who created those communication logs.”

  With a hard swallow, Zeus nodded. As Plato watched, his partner headed off after his ball to hit his way out of a sand trap.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  In lieu of the spoon she didn’t have with her, Eve ate strawberry yogurt off her fingertip. Olivia ate a blueberry version in similar fashion, but with less care regarding the cleanliness of her shirt.

  The stars were out. It was a clear night in Kansas, and the sky spread to the horizon in all directions. After raiding an outgoing shipment bound for Easter Island, Charlie7 and the two sisters had adjourned to a nearby pasture that lay fallow.

  “So, who’s behind Olivia’s disappearance?” Eve asked, finally able to put her hunger behind her long enough to give the matter its due attention.