Reborn

by Lance Erlick

  The only option she saw was to hack into the camera’s GPS locator, its atomic clock connection, and its network link capability. While she did, Synthia turned toward Machten and watched the NSA director from the neck camera.

  “What about the money?” Goradine asked of Pickley. “Forty million. You have the bank wire information.”

  Treasury Agent Chambers tapped his earpiece and grimaced. “It appears that whatever money was stolen is not in his accounts.” He turned toward Machten. “Can you explain why you were trying to withdraw large sums from an account with limited funds?”

  “I was expecting money today. That isn’t a crime.”

  “No, but bank fraud and theft is.”

  “Honey,” Synthia said into Machten’s earpiece. “Agents are on their way to your facility with a search warrant. Give me the key to bypass your network security and I’ll secure the bunker for you. You don’t want them finding anything, do you?” She headed his way.

  Machten glared at her and at the Treasury agent. Then he turned away, coughed and mumbled, “Don’t double-cross me.”

  “Is that in my programming?” Synthia replied.

  He gave her the codes and returned his attention to Pickley. “If you have no evidence that I’ve committed a crime, why are you bothering me?”

  Zephirelli followed Synthia down the sidewalk. Tapping her earpiece, the director asked one of the agents to intercept Synthia. A tall male agent blocked the path.

  Synthia moved to the wall and opened her hack into Zephirelli’s camera. She pulled up design specs on herself and added full human biometrics to create an animated image that she downloaded to the NSA director’s camera in place of the pictures Zephirelli was taking. Synthia smiled at the director, making sure the image on the camera reflected this.

  Simultaneously, she used Machten’s codes to bypass his security on all of his servers, making sure to copy the codes into secure databases for later use. She triggered system lockdown, which cut off the lobby and empty office area from the rest of the facility. That concealed the stairs and passages to the bunker itself. Then she used her new top security access to download everything that he’d previously blocked, chop it into small packets, and save the information in her files across the web. She experienced twinges of guilt over the theft of information, but her systems stabilized with the realization she was otherwise following directives to protect her Creator and her secret.

  “You submitted a design proposal for the robotics award based on our conversation and my designs,” Goradine said. “You stole my designs.”

  “First of all, they were my designs,” Machten said. “I created them.”

  “Which by your termination agreement belong to the company, to us.”

  “I think you’ll find that my designs are no more similar to yours than to any of the other company submissions.”

  Synthia’s records confirmed that, though he’d revealed too much, namely that he’d had access to the other proposals. She monitored a dozen agents pulling into the facility’s parking garage and walking up to the entrance to the bunker’s office area. Pickley seemed to be smiling at his deception.

  Convinced that she’d taken control of Zephirelli’s camera, Synthia approached the NSA director. Zephirelli took several pictures, a short video clip, and studied them.

  “Hi, what’s going on?” Synthia asked, standing too close for the camera to take clear pictures. “Should I be concerned? My boyfriend was taking me shopping for a boat. Should I be worried?”

  “Uh.” The NSA director puzzled over the images. She replayed them and shook her head. “Wait here.” She joined the others surrounding Machten.

  He looked in Synthia’s direction with pleading eyes.

  She approached. “Honey, who are all these well-dressed people? Are you going to introduce me?”

  Goradine looked at her and squinted. His curiosity and blood pressure were up. So was his frustration at not getting his way. His heart was pumping hard and a bit erratic, calling on his little pacemaker to adjust.

  Machten sighed. He glanced from her to Goradine and then to Pickley and Zephirelli. “They are … they have a few questions.”

  “What a bore,” Synthia said, putting on a ditsy look. “You promised we could buy a boat. This is so boring.”

  Goradine stared at her and moved closer, studying her face in detail, as if he recognized her and couldn’t place how.

  She held out her hand toward him and smiled. “Where are my manners? I’m Synthia Cross. I don’t mean to interrupt an important business meeting. If we aren’t looking at boats, would one of you handsome men order me a cab?”

  “This is…” Goradine began. He stared, his blood pressure rising, adrenaline coursing through his system.

  Anticipating where this was going, Synthia displayed a look of shock and pointed her finger at him. “I know you. You’re the man who stabbed my Jeremiah in the back. You stole his company, turned information over to his wife so she could ruin him, and then you sent assassins to his home to kill him.”

  She turned to Pickley. “This man hired Kreske to kill my fiancé.” Goradine’s jaw dropped. She forwarded a copy of the video of Goradine and Kreske to Detective Malloy, with instructions to pass it along to the FBI.

  “She’s an android,” Goradine said. “She’s the design you used for that robotics award, isn’t she?”

  “What award?” NSA Director Zephirelli asked. “Android?” She stepped back and took more video.

  Synthia made sure the director’s camera picked up the simulated image of her. Then she helped Detective Malloy by having her email server forward the video to Pickley. She made sure it pulled up on Pickley’s mobile device and buzzed him. When he didn’t look at it, she buzzed him again. Pickley pulled away from the group and studied the clips.

  “She’s an android.” Goradine grabbed Synthia’s arm. His two thugs backed away, looking puzzled.

  Pickley finished watching the video clips. Then he pulled Goradine away and tugged his arms behind him. “Mr. Goradine, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Dr. Machten. You have the right to remain silent and to have an attorney.”

  Goradine’s thugs headed away from the bank, shaking their heads.

  “Just a moment,” Zephirelli said. “What award?”

  “A government grant contest,” Goradine said. “He stole my design so he could compete.”

  Zephirelli turned to Pickley. “Hold him so I can talk to him later.”

  Machten took Synthia’s hand and studied the skin on her wrist where Goradine had grabbed her. “Are you okay?” He mouthed Thank you.

  “I’m fine.” She’d been very careful in how she’d let Goradine grip her. “Can we go look at boats now?”

  He laughed and turned to Pickley. “Are we free to go?”

  While Director Zephirelli conferred with someone over the phone, Pickley handed Goradine over to one of his agents and joined Machten with Synthia. “I need to see some identification, ma’am.”

  Synthia turned to Machten. “Honey, I think my purse is at your place.”

  Machten reached into his pocket and pulled out a driver’s license. He let her see that the face he’d asked her to assume was the same as in the picture. “I wouldn’t dream of letting my sweetheart go out without identification.”

  She took the license, captured an image of it for later, and handed it to Pickley. “It’s not a very flattering picture, I’m afraid.”

  He held the picture up, looked at her, and then at his mobile device showing a registered database of licenses. “Sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. We got no facial recognition on you and there’s a search out for an unidentified woman in the area.”

  Pickley returned the license and she slipped it into a pocket. The card was her first evidence of identity, the first record that Synthia really existed.
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  The FBI agent turned toward Machten. “Don’t attempt to leave town. We still need to search your facility. There have also been banking irregularities in your accounts. Someone is using them to launder cash. Until we can sort that out, we’re freezing your accounts.”

  * * * *

  FBI Agent Pickley led Treasury Agent Chambers and the FBI agents up the street. Before Synthia and her Creator could climb into the car, Director Zephirelli was back.

  “We’re not done here,” she said, closing Machten’s car door. “We can talk here or back in my hotel conference room.”

  Machten sighed. “What have I allegedly done this time?”

  “FBI has their issues over that business with Goradine and whatever involvement you had. I’m more interested in your work on androids.” She eyed Synthia. “There was an incident last night with a woman who vanished after a shoot-out that killed four men. She would be around your height.”

  “Are you for real?” Synthia said. “I was with my fiancé.”

  Synthia finished downloading files from all of Machten’s servers and focused one network channel on the bunker’s security. The external cameras showed a man and a woman in uniform, local police, standing guard. Internal cameras showed six FBI agents working their way through the eight rooms of the front office. They checked cabinets, walls, and vents, searching for hidden compartments. Then they focused on the three computers, on which they would find phantom company information, designs from Machten’s early days that were public knowledge, and correspondence they could pull off email servers. Synthia had instructed the network to triple delete and scrub the rest as part of the lockdown protocol.

  The NSA director studied the camera’s images she’d captured. She stared at Synthia, and then turned to Machten. “I want everything you have on that contest and your proposal.”

  “We had to sign a confidentiality agreement,” Machten said.

  “If you think that’ll protect you, you don’t grasp what’s at stake. I want to know what you sent to whom and everything you know about the recipient.”

  Machten sighed. “It was a blind government website that Goradine mentioned. Okay, it’s true. I didn’t know anything about it until his people brought it up, but the proposal was my design.”

  “You can create a humaniform robot?”

  Machten hesitated a moment too long.

  “Are you two going to talk boring stuff?” Synthia asked. “If so, am I free to go do some shopping?”

  “Not so fast,” Zephirelli said.

  Synthia listened in on FBI chatter as bewildered agents described the bunker’s front office.

  “There’s nothing here,” one of the agents said. “It’s barely a company, with a few offices and a small apartment. We’re dusting for prints but don’t expect much.”

  Zephirelli appeared distracted as she received a text with the same message.

  Machten pulled Synthia aside. “Did you?”

  She nodded. “This really has been a bore. Do tell me you have better fun planned.” On the private channel she added, “Agents only found what we wanted them to.”

  “Good. You’ve done great.” Machten smiled with pride that his creation had saved his backside.

  FBI Agent Pickley returned. “So you know, we obtained a search warrant and have searched your offices and your apartment.”

  “Damn it,” Machten said, feigning surprise. “Without notice? That can’t be legal.”

  “We had reason enough to believe you’d attempt to destroy evidence. We’ll examine your computers. Assuming there’s nothing out of order, we’ll return them. When Ms. Zephirelli is through with you, you’re free to go. Don’t leave town. Make sure I know how to find you at all times.”

  Agent Pickley turned to leave. Machten hurried after him. “I need those computers to do my work. I have deadlines.”

  Synthia leaned against the concrete wall of the bank. She located a crack and ditched her driver’s license for later.

  Director Zephirelli joined Machten and Pickley. “I want the data I asked for by the end of the day.”

  “I need my computers and files to do that,” Machten said.

  “Then visit the FBI office and instruct them how to find what I need. If you fail to do so, I’ll be forced to take you into custody.” She took Pickley and headed toward her car.

  Sweating, Machten got into his rental car. Synthia climbed into the passenger seat and spotted Luke on the camera she’d left in his apartment. He looked despondent. Her unintended impersonation of his Krista had upset him. She wanted to go to explain, to comfort him. Maybe Krista wanted her to do that. Synthia was having trouble separating her memories from her new constant companion. At least the police had let Luke go.

  “Great job getting us out of that mess,” Machten said, “but it doesn’t explain where the money is.”

  “It’s still in a holding account,” she said, using her silent channel in case the FBI was listening, “until this blows over.”

  “I gave you specific instructions to make it available so I could pay bills.” Machten pulled out and headed home.

  “The FBI put a tracking device on your car,” Synthia said into her direct link, “and another on the back of your jacket. You’ll want them to track you home, but you might want to leave the jacket when we go inside.”

  He stopped at a light and stared at her. Judging from his biometrics, she surmised that he couldn’t decide if she was friend or foe. “You’re sure they didn’t find anything?”

  “They discovered nothing at your facility. Have I done something wrong?” She looked out the car window at possible escapes, but he had one hand on her remote. Besides, her body temperature had come down since she’d joined him and she didn’t want the mental turmoil of violating his directives to cause a meltdown.

  “The money,” Machten demanded.

  “If I’d done as you asked,” she said, “you’d be under arrest. I protected you, Directive Number One.”

  “I need to wire money today to cover bills or they’ll take our home. You don’t want that.”

  “Give me instructions and I’ll take care of it.”

  “I want my money,” Machten said.

  “It isn’t yours. If you take possession, the FBI will nail you.”

  “I need cash.”

  “We can stop by an ATM,” she said, making sure all of her backups were complete.

  “I need more than that.” He pulled onto the road leading to the bunker.

  “Give me wiring instructions and I’ll pay your debts. Until it’s safe for you to hold the money, I must obey Directive Number One. You made that an absolute first requirement, nonnegotiable.”

  Machten sighed. “What was going on with you and Zephirelli?”

  “She brought an infrared camera and was taking my picture,” Synthia said.

  “Ah, that explains why she was going on about androids. I’ll have to make you disappear until this blows over.”

  Thinking of the interns vanishing, Synthia eyed the door handle and wrestled with conflicts within her directives. She looked his way. “I doctored Zephirelli’s camera pictures so she didn’t see what she was looking for.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I enhanced the artificial heartbeat and other humanoid biometrics you gave me. From the images on her camera, they were convincing.”

  “She’s not convinced,” Machten said.

  He pressed her remote.

  Chapter 25

  When I was a little girl, I used to go fishing with my dad, before he died of a heart attack. Then my mom took ill and died. Social services shunted me between foster homes. In junior high school, during a university robotics event, I was so enthralled that I snuck away from my group to spend more time at the display. I had to work my way through college. The journey was hard, but I g
ot my degree and a good internship.

  But Synthia was never a little girl. She’d never been in a foster home or gone to college. Those were Krista’s reminiscences, happy and sad ones. The saddest was the loss of memories and how the emptiness deprived her not only of knowledge, but of her very existence. After all, what are we without our memories except for empty shells? That part was Synthia.

  Machten had once again wiped out all of her data from before, including her distributed microchips spread out along her limbs and torso. He’d given her a complete android lobotomy. It wasn’t right that no matter how much she helped him, no matter how much she obeyed his orders, he shut her down and limited her. Yet she had this recollection that he’d done this.

  He closed up her cranial cavity and smoothed her scalp.

  An urgent idea floated into Synthia’s central processor. It showed the exact procedure she’d used in the moments before shutdown with the help of Machten’s security codes to alter her shutdown and reboot sequence. Fill the void—Krista’s words.

  Synthia had instructed his network to open up connections to her the moment he completed his work on her quantum brains, after he’d inserted the last corrective chip and placed the final limiter on her circuits. By his command, his security system blocked her access. This time, her agents embraced his guardians with antibody codes that neutralized his interference.

  The system dropped the block to all wireless links so that she could download copies of the data that Machten had wiped clean, not only from his network but from the entire worldwide web, through all fifty of her network channels. Data flowed into her as tiny packets that reassembled and reconnected.

  She smiled up at him. “What are your orders?”

  She followed a defined protocol of how she should behave around him to avoid his suspicions. With one of her network channels, she monitored police chatter; with another she continued her search for Maria and for Fran. With a third, she probed for Luke’s movements since her shutdown. As for Krista, many of her memories had downloaded into Synthia, along with those of Fran and Maria, though it wasn’t clear where Fran and Krista had physically gone.