Tales of the Symbiont Safety Patrol (SYMBIOSIS)

by Samuel King

  "It's important, Joey."

  "Yeah, I know. Now, get in, Sweetheart. It's dangerous down here." He paused then added, "Sure was good seein' you again."

  She tried to implore him once more, but he only smiled and closed the door. "Star crossed," he shouted, waving. She returned his wave, watching as he disappeared into the crowd. And as the cab lifted off, she sighed, having been left with little more than hope and the sad memory of the boy who was going to have it all.

  ****

  A full week passed before Cassie heard from Joey, and when she did, the message was short and perfunctory, directing her to a meeting the following day. After delivering the message, Joey had ended the call abruptly. He put to rest any thought of a subsequent reunion, wishing her well while making it clear he wanted nothing to do with whatever she was up to. He also made clear he could have charged her more but didn't'… "for old time's sake".

  The shadowy figure she met the following day on her lunch hour had no such reluctance. Claiming to know someone who could arrange a meeting, he promptly demanded two thousand dollars before asking exactly what she had for the Phantom. "Money and expertise," she answered. "And lots of both." After collecting his fee, he too, walked away, leaving her with no assurance she would ultimately succeed. Her hopes began to fade.

  Yet another week passed, a week in which her worst fears were realized. Refusing all last minute entreaties, the owner's widow made good on her plans to give her late husband's holo system, including Rebecca, to her brother. When she claimed to be washing her hands of a very "sordid business", Cassie finally understood.

  She tried to assure the widow her suspicions were unfounded, but the woman would have none of it. Instead, she seemed to take pleasure as the two friends tearfully embraced each other for what Cassie believed was the last time. Her attempt to intervene via the Phantom had failed, and as the boxes containing the holo system and her friend's neural array were loaded into a van, she wept.

  The following day she received a message directing her to an apartment in the Roxbury section of Boston.

  ****

  After checking the address, Cassie entered the building, walked a short distance down a long dark hallway and knocked on the first door on the left. When it opened, a man wearing a ski mask ushered her inside. He ran a wand up and down the entire length of her body, before checking a small display unit in his hand. "What exactly do you have for us?" he asked.

  "Are you the Phantom?"

  "No, I'm his representative."

  "Well, I want to speak directly to the Phantom."

  "You'll speak to me or no one." He reached for the door as if to open it.

  "I'm a member of the New England—"

  "We know all that, lady. It's the only reason you've gotten this far. I want specifics."

  "I have friends, good friends," she said. "People with scientific expertise, military, public relations, and most of all money. Many of them want to do more, but they don't know how."

  The masked man hesitated for several seconds, sizing her up. "Wait here," he said, finally, and left the room. He walked down a short hallway and disappeared into another room at the other end. He reappeared a moment later and motioned for her to follow.

  She froze, realizing for the first time how precarious her situation was. She had started her search with a criminal, a friend but a criminal all the same, and it was ending with a criminal—wearing a ski mask, no less. Worse, nobody knew where she was. She lost her nerve and reached for the door, but the masked man pulled his jacket aside, revealing a pistol in a shoulder holster. After admonishing her with a wagging finger, he motioned once again for her to follow him.

  She did so, slowly, one step after the other, her mind racing in search of an exit strategy, shaming her even as it did. Her cruel words questioning John's courage returned to haunt her. Never thought your own life would ever be in danger, did you?

  At the end of hallway, she eased past the masked man to enter a dimly lit room and found a man seated at a small table. His genial smile put her at ease, and when he gestured for her to take a seat in the only other available chair, she complied and asked, "Are you the Phantom?"

  "There is no Phantom," the man answered. "Just a few people doing what we can." He extended his hand. "My name is Joel."

  "Hello, Joel," she said, accepting his hand. "I'm Cassie."

  "Short for Cassandra, right?"

  "That's right."

  "A beautiful name. It suits you," he said, smiling.

  "Thank you." Her table mate appeared to be her age and handsome, very handsome. Feeling her cheeks grow warm, she returned his smile.

  "Do you make predictions?"

  "Huh? Oh… Sure," she answered, laughing. "But no one ever believes me."

  He laughed as well and said, "Maybe that's why you don't often come across the name."

  "It was my grandmother's name. She got it from her grandmother." Taking a long look at the handsome stranger, she added, "It'll be my grand-daughter's name, too."

  "Oh? What do your children have to say about that?"

  "Nothing. I don't have any yet. I'm not even married."

  "Kind of putting the cart before the horse, aren't we? Have anyone in mind?"

  "Nope, still looking. Do you want the job?"

  Joel laughed again. "I'm afraid I've got all I can handle. Thanks for the offer though. Besides…" He vanished, reappearing several seconds later. "I don't think I'd be much help with the children."

  "Of course. You're a symbiont," she said.

  "A wha… Oh, right, that's what you folks are calling us now. Yes, I'm symbiont, whatever the hell that means."

  "It means humans and sentient artificials should be in a symbiotic relationship as opposed to master and slave.

  "You better tell your fellow humans that. I don't think most of them are feeling very symbiotic."

  "They will, in time."

  "So, you say." He folded his arms and studied her. "Alright Ms. Cassandra Roberts, what's your story?"

  "I have a friend—"

  "Rebecca Howe of Allston, Massachusetts. My people have checked it out, and she's on our list. I want to know why you and I are here."

  Her mouth fell open. "Excuse me?" she said after several seconds.

  "When you first reached out to us, we found out all about you, Ms. Roberts. We validated your friend's situation and put her on our growing list of future operations. End of story." He leaned across the table. "Let me answer my own question. You and I are here because you made some bold claims, and our investigators think you might actually be in a position to deliver… Well, it's time."

  She gulped. "Where do I start?"

  "Technical."

  "How about a symbiont cyberspace designer? He's worked on some of the most sophisticated cyber environments offered by Holovision, and he thinks the Phantom is the greatest thing since the E.M.U."

  "And you know this man personally?"

  "We're friends."

  "Anyone else?"

  She leaned across the table. "Plenty. The question is… what are you going to do for me?"

  "Just as soon as I meet the cyberspace designer we'll move your friend to the head of the list. That's what you want isn't it?"

  "Yes, but that could take a week, maybe more. My friend can't wait that long."

  He stared at her, scratching his chin.

  "With my friends, you can increase the number of people you save by a factor of ten," she offered. "You just have to trust me." When he continued to stare at her, she added, "Why do you even have to think about it? All I'm asking is to expedite Rebecca's rescue."

  "That could be quite a bit," Joel said. "Especially if we move her ahead of someone whose life is in danger."

  She had no immediate response to his point, suddenly realizing she was asking no small thing. "It must be terrible having to choose one over the other, and I'm glad I don't have to make the decision. But even so, I've got to try to help my friend."

 
Joel leaned back in his chair. "I understand. I'd do the same in your place." He stared at her for several seconds, took a deep "breath" and said, "The man who let you in will give you a number to contact us with when you're ready to set up the meeting with your cyberspace designer."

  "And Rebecca?"

  "Tell him if there's anything you can think of that might help us to free her. If it's a simple burglary, we'll have her out in a few days."

  She rocked back in her chair, bringing her hands together before covering her mouth. "Oh, my God! Thank you, Joel. Thank you so much."

  He pointed a threatening finger at her. "You had better come through with your end of the deal, Ms. Roberts. I'll have a lot to answer for if you don't, and I won't be happy about it. I expect to meet with the cyberspace designer in one week, no longer."

  "Don't' worry. I want this as much as you do," Cassie said, "No one should have to wait weeks for help."

  Joel sighed. "We only act on cases we or our associates know or hear about. We've been trying to expand our network, but as you can see it still takes a while before the information percolates up to us. Actually, you're lucky you found us at all. You must be quite resourceful."

  "Not resourceful enough. My friend's in the hands of a man who thinks she's nothing more than a talking mannequin."

  "I'm sorry about that."

  "No, I'm sorry," Cassie replied. "I wish there was more I could do."

  "Well, if you think of something, you be sure to let me know."

  "I will," she said, gazing at him. His simple declaration continued to thrill her: "…we'll have her out in a few days." Just like that. No argument, no recrimination, no dithering… The Phantom, a man of action, a man who didn't play by the rules, would set her friend free in a few days.

  Joel rose and extended his hand. "It was nice meeting you, Cassandra."

  Still gazing at him in awe, she shook his hand as firmly as she could and replied, "It was nice meeting you, too… Joel."

  He seemed to study her after that, his face conveying a trace of doubt. Finally, as if coming to some pleasing conclusion, he smiled, nodded and said, "Good bye." Then he was gone.

  She gasped, reeling as much from having accomplished her mission as his sudden disappearance. The masked man appeared at the door, his demeanor having improved substantially. She smiled at him, confident in the knowledge Rebecca was but days away from freedom. All she had to do was make good on her claims. Not nearly as easy as she had boasted, but doable, at least she hoped. As pleasant as Joel had seemed, the thought of confronting an angry Phantom was a frightening prospect.

  ****

  The new safe house was, if anything, even worse than its predecessor. Smaller and dingier, it reeked, and the three symbionts briefly considered turning their olfactory inputs off or at least down. They reconsidered the move only when their human colleagues complained. The meeting was contentious enough and didn't need anything that would further divide them.

  "I don't understand why we didn't meet at the house, like we always do?" Kate complained.

  "I wanted Bobby to be here in person," Joel answered. "This is a very important meeting; a video appearance won't do."

  Kate had a quick rejoinder. "Well, I don't understand why he can't come to the house. It's not like we get a lot of company."

  "Love to accommodate you, Red," Freeman said. "But with my past criminal record, it wouldn't make any sense for me to show up at your house. As far anybody knows, you two are just Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Citizen."

  "Enough of all this small talk!" Helen snapped. She had been fuming since they sat down and was nearly beside herself. "It's time to cut to the chase."

  "Yes, dear," Joel replied meekly.

  "Don't you patronize me, goddamn it. There are people more deserving, and you know it."

  "No, I don't," he said. "We hacked Jimmy in there, and he says Rebecca looks as if she's had a rough time of it. Maybe she should have been next anyway."

  Doherty expelled a short, cynical breath. "A wise man once told me, ‘Lie to me, if ya must, but never lie to yaself'. That girl's bein' sprung t'nite because ya want access to this cyberspace designer and whoever else this woman can tease ya with. And that's the plain fact."

  "And I still don't think we need a cyberspace designer," Helen groused.

  "And I still can't believe you don't," Joel replied. "We're constantly looking for new places to hide the fugitives. What if we had a cyber facility—a nice one? Then all we'd need is a place to store their arrays."

  "He's right, Helen," Kate said. "The house gets damn crowded sometimes. We've got people bumpin' into each other, upstairs."

  "Not everybody likes cyberspace," Helen retorted. "I don't."

  Joel sighed. "Then they'll just have to get used to it, won't they."

  "Easy for you to say," Helen said, scowling.

  "All this is very interesting, but it doesn't change the fact that the operation is already set. We're a go for tonight," Freeman said.

  Happy to change the subject, Joel asked, "Who's on it? One of ours?"

  "Uh-uh, a freelancer. But he's worked for us before. He'll be in and out of that place in ten minutes."

  "And the handoff?"

  "Arthur's got it. He's going on foot. He takes the array from my ‘B&E' guy, scoots down an alley, over to the next street, and I'll be waiting for him."

  "Okay."

  "What's the matter, Joel?" Freeman asked. "You seem worried."

  "I don't know. The whole thing is kind of rush, rush, and everyone's not on board…" He glanced at Helen before continuing. "I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

  Actually, he was very nervous. They had taken significant short cuts—never a good thing. His own rescue was proof of that. Poor Claire had paid the price, and he, for one, would never forget it.

  *

  There followed a contentious debate about the changing nature of their organization. Having grown considerably since the Pleasure Palace, a second tier cadre was firmly ensconced and, in fact, ran most of the operations. Still, the six of them made the important decisions and controlled every facet of the group's activities.

  That would change. Cassandra's cyberspace designer and other specialists would bring a new level of sophistication to the group, far beyond the six's ability to completely control or even understand. A disquieting prospect, both Helen and Doherty had voted ‘No'.

  Kate and Freeman agreed with Joel, so Cynthia's became the deciding vote. Being relatively new, she tried to abstain, but her colleagues unanimously rejected her request, and after much deliberation she sided with Joel. In her plain spoken but elegant manner, she said, "Maybe this has gotten bigger than us, and maybe we shouldn't fight it. There's only so many people our little group can save, and there are so many more that need our help."

  When the meeting ended, Joel's doubt remained. Helen seemed to sense it, and once they were alone, she took hold of his hand and kissed him. "Don't second guess yourself," she said. Her voice was soft and soothing. "I may disagree, but the decision's been made. So, we'll do this just like we do everything else… with confidence and knowing without a doubt that we're the good guys."

  ****

  Cassie received word of Rebecca's escape the following afternoon and promptly took the rest of the day off. She'd been given specific instructions about where and when (that evening) to see her friend but wisely realized her productive work day had come to an end. She celebrated instead, at home with a bottle of good wine.

  Rebecca had been configured seven years earlier as a mechanical engineer. Her owner, a shrewd man, found in her both a talented engineer for his consulting firm and the daughter he never had. She'd met Cassie on a project a year later, and they became fast friends. They were in many respects kindred spirits, though Cassie tended to be more reserved. She often described her friend's bubbly, outgoing personality as ‘electric', because of her ability to "light up" a room.

  All of that had ended with the passing of Rebecca's owner and
his widow's decision to give his holo system to her brother. For two weeks, the pending move had hung over them like the proverbial sword of Damocles, before Cassie sought the assistance of the Phantom. And while that assistance came too late to prevent the move, it had limited Rebecca's time with her new owner to little more than a week.

  Drinking her wine, she contemplated the many years of work and play that lie ahead of them, thanks to the Phantom, and she raised her glass to him in absentia. Perhaps Joanne was right, and the final victory would be won in congress or in the courts, with groups like the NEES leading the fight. Rebecca's need had been urgent however, and couldn't wait for those victories. For people in her situation the Phantom and people like him were the only answer.

  ****

  She entered the low-rent rooming house through a side door at precisely 8:00 PM and climbed the stairs to the third floor. After finding room 317 she entered without knocking, as instructed, and closed the door behind her, quietly. She was alone.

  The room was sparsely furnished, containing only a bed, a dresser, a small table upon which sat a holo control unit and two chairs. She sat in one of them and upon closer inspection, saw the holo projectors in the corners of the room and the holo input receiver suspended from the ceiling. She trembled in anticipation of her friend's arrival.

  She didn't have long to wait. The holo control unit began to hum, and seconds later, without fanfare or announcement, Rebecca stood in the middle of the room. Except it wasn't Rebecca, not the Rebecca she knew. The woman standing in the middle of the room, with sunken eyes and a frightened expression, bore little resemblance to her friend.

  "Rebecca?"

  "Cassie! I thought I'd never see you again."

  The two women tried to embrace—unsuccessfully, as their arms passed through each other. "No E.M.U.?" Cassie asked.

  Rebecca shook her head. "I forgot. They said it wasn't necessary. We've only got five minutes then I go back to the fugitive safe house… Imagine, me a fugitive."

  She resisted the impulse to comment on her friend's appearance. "Well, how long—"

  "Not for a while. I'm stolen property now. If you're seen with me, you'll be an accessory."

  "Oh, God."