Three hours later we are allowed to return to our quarters for the day. Shift patterns are handed out, and I note I’ve been given tipper duties, meaning I’ll be shifting the tons of moon dust and rock from the site and onto a great big extraction bin. From there the rock is sorted onto a conveyer belt; some will be placed in useful piles and reused in some way, and the rest will be disposed of far away in some distant crater.
The one thing I did not count on was that everyone pretty much knew everyone else among the work force—except for me. I am now considered the new guy who gets the worst jobs and is not really trusted with anything important, but then again I can certainly exploit that to my advantage.
Early the next morning, I check the security rotas and assign two of my drones to two guards and await their arrival into the security block. Twenty minutes later the two guards arrive at their post. Four hours of watching the security feeds—how nice for them, and great for me. This time I take my time infiltrating security, area by area, isolating the program that almost blew the whole operation on the first day, not deleting it but just editing the script to ignore my drones.
Feeling pleased with myself, I head off to do my first twelve-hour shift shifting rock, an honest day’s work for a not very honest guy like me. Oddly, I enjoy myself immensely. I reflect upon my life of crime, my penthouse flat, my cars, my own warp-capable ship (small but pretty awesome), and then how could my life have been, doing an honest day’s work, digging and shifting rock, not perfect but honest. The dream of such a life comes suddenly crashing down as an emergency alarm sounds. My first thoughts are that they have discovered my drones, but then the shouts over the comms explain that an accident has just occurred: one of the new workers from my block has just been crushed to death by falling rock. It’s a sober wake-up call to the dangers of working in such an environment. The shift is ended three hours earlier than expected, and we all head back. My epiphany is short lived, and I really do like my warp-capable ship.
What transpired was that one of the survey teams had been checking a newly constructed section of tunnel when the roof partially collapsed. As a result, we get an unscheduled day off while geologists inspect the area. The main chat at dinner suggests that, given the composition of the rock, it will need a special additive to ensure that this won’t happen again.
The next day I spend playing cards and other recreational games with the guys and checking up on my drones. By the end of the day, security is completely compromised, and I have full access to their computer systems and cameras. The next stage is taking the rest of the base and the hangar.
As we come back from dinner, Joey returns sporting bloodshot eyes and a nervous disposition to sudden movements. It’s hard not to feel sorry for the guy, but it was him or me at the time. I’ll try and make it up to him by the end.
After a month I’ve shifted more rock than anyone had thought possible. I’ve really gotten into my role, and the longer I work with these guys, the more I come to understand the importance of every aspect of the team working together. I even start to get some of the guys to chat to me about previous jobs and how they differed from this one, and slowly they seem to accept the new guy as their own. Well, a small number at least. I’m sure that there are some old-timers that would never accept me.
The base, except for the hangar, is now fully under my control. I felt a little chilly one night and even had the nerve to increase the room temperature a few degrees, much to the confusion of the station maintenance crew the next day. They set it back down again, but I felt good about myself and had become confident in my current success.
The hangar proved much more difficult than I expected. I realized that breaking into a hangar containing a top-secret prototype would be hard, but this is beyond hard. No one has been in there in weeks, apparently because the main test pilot was attacked at a nightclub and seriously injured on one of his days off.
Since that day only three people have been into the hangar, and sadly that was before I arrived here. One was the facility’s top project leader; then a day later, a head surgeon from the hospital where the pilot had been taken went in together with the project lead; and two days after that, a psychologist on her own went in and stayed for a short period. Perplexing but also interesting, as the hangar was unlocked from within. Who else is in there? I go over the main databases again, but the project prototype specs are not listed. Hardly surprising, but I knew that.
It’s halfway through the second month that I find a possible lead. The project lead and the surgeon were in contact with each other, but it was whoever was still inside the hangar that requested the psychologist visit via the project lead.
Taking a chance, I clone the hangar’s communications signature and send the project lead another request to see the psychologist. Then I log onto the project lead’s terminal and wait for the result. I don’t have to wait long, as the project lead sends a message to the surgeon’s terminal; there’s a long wait, so he can’t be in a local system.
Dr. Derson,
I understand you are busy with our patient, but Arden is asking to see Dr. Rhyne again. Are there any updates from our earlier conversation?
End Message.
Several hours pass, and then my monitoring program informs me of an incoming message.
Dr. Pearson,
My apologies for not getting back to you sooner. I had hoped I could reply with better information, but sadly there is no change. Arden’s brain scans are still showing a degradation of the myelin white matter, which means the brain cannot function correctly. We were hoping that the nanites treatment could reverse this damage, but our current test results show that too much damage has already occurred. If Arden does recover, he won’t be the same man.
I’ll update you again in a few days.
End Message.
What’s going on here, two Ardens?
Arden,
There is still no news at the moment, but I will send Dr. Rhyne to come and visit you again in a few days. As soon as I get any real news regarding Arden’s condition, I’ll let you know.
End Message.
Twins then? But odd to name both the same name. There’s something I’m missing.
Dr. Pearson,
I’m not sure talking with Dr. Rhyne will help much, but I very much enjoyed our conversation last time. I shall look forward to seeing her again. Thanks, Dr. Pearson.
End Message.
I still feel like I’m missing something, but I’m pleased that my little ruse did not backfire. And then something occurs to me. While searching for Dr. Rhyne’s background, I’m half expecting to find some kind of artificial intelligence experience, but all I find is a very well-educated psychologist with specializations in the cognitive, military, and clinical fields.
But I still feel I’m missing something. I glimpse over the message from Dr. Pearson to Dr. Rhyne and an hour later the reply from Dr. Rhyne confirming an appointment with Arden.
Until Dr. Rhyne arrives, I just carry on with my work. Oddly I’ve been finding the constant back and forth with tons of rock quite relaxing, plus it allows me to continue to monitor the patrols in the area, the layout of the new hangars, and the whereabouts of the actual one.
I’ve also started to get to know some of the dirty little secrets the security guards have and where a few of them hide their stashes of illicit drugs and/or alcohol. They all seem pretty nice guys, except for Janson, who is head of security. He seems to be a bit of a git and runs security like it’s his own personal hell to mete out punishment to whoever displeases him. He was also the head interrogator of Joey, and although he could have used more advanced techniques that have proven very effective in the past, he chose a more brutal means to discover guilt. I start to believe it would be fitting if Janson should have the chance to experience a similar fate. Sadly, this kind of setup will take time. I start with a new secret bank account, a traceable link to his known legit one, and some faked meets regarding information about project and loc
ation. The rest I’ll add in time.
The week passes by quickly. On the day Dr. Rhyne is scheduled to see Arden, I make my excuses for why I’m unable to work that day, and with a few choice words from the supervisor, I’m left alone to recover.
Dr. Rhyne arrives on time. She’s much younger than I expected, and the security buzz around her like bees to honey. With several drones ready to go, I start to attach them to her, but then one of the more senior security guards decides it’s the best time to give her a second scan just to be sure and also as an excuse to stand close and leer at her. I issue the destruct protocol to shut down the drones, but the scanner had already detected the presence of an unknown piece of tech. With a look of disbelief, knowing she was clean just moment before, the guard stares at his scanner.
“Is there a problem?” Dr. Rhyne now starts to stare at the guard, realizing exactly what he was doing. “Maybe you drooled too much into your scanner. Can we just get on with this, or do I have to call for the project lead?” Dr. Rhyne is now looking visibly annoyed.
“I’m sorry, Doctor, but you gave a positive result. I’m unable to let you go any further,” the guard says. It’s his turn to look annoyed as he starts to open a comms channel.
“This is senseless. Just scan me again!”
“I’m just following procedures, ma’am.” The guard opens a channel, not having time to say anything further as the doctor replies.
“Oh, is that what you call it? And there I was thinking that you just wanted me to put you up on molestation charges. Scan me again.”
With an exaggerated sigh, the guard closes the channel and scans her again. This time the scanner emits an all-clear beep. Without waiting for the guard to say anything, the doctor barges past and heads for the hangar entryway, a small hatchway.
I wait just a few more seconds before sending the last remaining drones down to attach themselves to the doctor as the hatch door opens to allow her entry. My view is partially obscured as the doctor enters the hangar. It’s a clinical, white, open space. Strangely, there’s no sign of the ship, but a translucent tear-shaped frame is fixed about thirty meters from the ground by some kind of resting arms. Around the shape is a gangway that goes all around the entire room with access platforms to the translucent tear-shape frame. A control console blocks a direct view ahead of us, and then a voice starts talking from the console.
“Nice to see you again, Dr. Rhyne. And I see you brought guests. How thoughtful.” The console light flashes as the voice talks, and then it goes out.
Dr. Rhyne walks up to the console and sits down. The momentarily clear view of the hangar still reveals no sign of the new ship. “Guests? I’ve brought no guests, Arden. Are you feeling okay?” Dr. Rhyne replies with a hint of concern.
“That’s okay, Dr. Rhyne. I realized you would not have seen them, but I am curious.”
“So how have you been feeling?” Dr. Rhyne asks, looking over her shoulder.
Arden laughs and then replies, “To be honest with you, Doc, I’ve been rather down recently up until few weeks ago. I was thinking of taking my own life, but due to the guests, I’m considering other options.”
Dr. Rhyne looks concerned and then thoughtful with Arden’s reply. “Have you considered returning hangar access back to the project team? They are all rather concerned about you.”
“I have, Doc, but for now it’s a closed subject. I would rather stay isolated where I can continue to hope and pray that Arden makes a full recovery, but it does seem rather doubtful.”
I continue to listen to Arden and the doctor talk about depression and the subject of suicide, wondering, what the hell is all this? An artificial intelligence gone a bit barking? And the worrying remarks to the doctor about bringing guests…I’m suddenly pulled out of my thoughts as Arden brings my attention back with a bang.
“I’d rather not continue on regarding my mental health, if you do not mind. I’d rather that we talk about the guests you brought in with you. Fascinating machines. I can’t wait to meet the controller.”
Dr. Rhyne looks dumbfounded. “What guests are you referring to? Are they here now? When did you start seeing them?”
“About seven weeks ago. They appeared with the fresh intake of construction workers. I suspect one of them is not what he seems.”
The doctor is now becoming a little distressed herself. “Okay, stop there. Can you at least show yourself so we can have a face-to-face discussion about these guests of yours?”
“Okay, Doctor, if you insist.”
The hacker drones now reposition themselves around the hangar, giving a better view. The hangar is around one hundred and eighty meters in length, about ninety meters wide, and approximately eighty meters high. The view of the hangar shimmers, and slowly a sleek, tear-shaped ship appears within the frame. What I previously mistook as part of the landing platform is actually part of the ship itself.
“Ah, that’s better. Now could you please explain what these guests are and what they are talking to you about?”
“Well, I guess it’s not that important now, but they are nanites machines, very complex and well-designed, but they are not talking to me, well, not in the usual sense. What the controller has not realized is that while he was taking control of the base, I was using my biological nanites to take control of his. His are advanced, but mine are decades better and much smaller.”
“So what has this controller been doing here exactly?” Dr. Rhyne takes out a pad and starts to write.
“The controller has been systematically taking control of the entire base. I first noticed it when his nanites tripped a detection filtration unit, but since then the controller has been using the personnel to transport his drones all over the base. Until today, he has not been successful at penetrating the hangar bay, well, until you walked in with them, at least.”
“I see…very interesting. What do you think these nanites want?” Dr. Rhyne writes a few lines of notes on her notepad and gives Arden her best smile.
“Well, the nanites don’t want anything, but the controller most likely wants me. I understand that you don’t believe me, which is perfectly fine, Doc. If I was in your shoes, I might not either.”
Hearing what was just said, I start to run diagnostics. There’s a few glitches here and there but nothing to suggest that any of my drones have been compromised.
“Well, that is a concern. I do believe you, and you must believe us when we say that we also need you. We need you to allow us to help you, but there is no shame in being wanted,” Dr. Rhyne says in her best sympathetic tone.
There is a long silence, and then Arden replies, “I’m not sure what backwater colony you trained to be a psychotherapist at, but I would suggest you go back for more training. Better still, find another place to train, as the school you attended did a piss-poor job at training you.”
Dr. Rhyne looks dumbfounded again, but before she can reply, Arden continues. “I would suggest that you should listen more and not talk so much, and for that matter, I hope that the controller listens well. You have an hour, no more, to convince me. Dr. Rhyne, this session is over. Please leave.” Arden goes silent, and the ship dematerializes, leaving just the translucent frame behind.
I replay the video and watch and listen as Arden tells me that I have an hour, and I watch Dr. Rhyne leave in what can only be described as a blazing trail of anger. If she could have slammed the door, I’m sure she would have.
One of my drone alerts beeps, and a message pops up saying, “You now have fifty-six minutes left.”
I waste another two minutes just reading over the message and uttering various profanities.
With fear starting to bubble deep within my gut, I send the activation code for my distraction sequence and leave the room. As I enter the corridor adjacent to our accommodation, I activate my holographic disguise, a dozen microholographic projectors now changing my appearance to resemble one of the security guards—not perfect up close, but it should be good enough to get me to th
e hangar doors.
Shortly after leaving my quarters, I stop suddenly as I spot a guard leaning against the wall. As I watch, he slowly slumps to the floor. Another drone message pops up: “You now have fifty minutes left.”
Casually inspecting the guard as I pass, I decide he is just unconscious, but from what I do not know. Wasting no time, I hurry on down the corridor, taking the next right and seeing more guards now lying on the floor. With each new turn, I hear more guards gasp and fall to the floor.
By the time I arrive at the hangar, I have passed at least a dozen guards passed out upon the floor, and forty-five minutes of my one hour have passed. As I approach the hangar, the hatch door opens. I step inside, and the intruder alert alarms begin to wail around the complex as the door behind me closes with a definite clunk.
Dr. Rhyne enters Dr. Pearson’s office in a calm and controlled manner. She sits down opposite Dr. Pearson, who looks up with a slight smile. “Went well then. I must say you lasted longer this time.”
Dr. Rhyne takes out her pad and throws it down on the table. “Your AI is now seeing things that are not there.”
Dr. Pearson looks down at the pad and then back at Dr. Rhyne. “Really. That is new. What is Arden now seeing?”
Dr. Rhyne takes a deep breath before replying, “Your machine is seeing ‘guests,’ as he referred to them, but he went on to say that the guests are nanites sent by someone who has infiltrated this base, possibly as one of your fresh recruits, but he also spoke about suicide and being wanted.”
“When did Arden tell you this?” Dr. Pearson asks, reaching under his desk.
“I’m not sure. Fifteen or twenty minutes ago. Your elevator was playing up while I was on my way here.” Dr. Rhyne cannot hear Dr. Pearson’s reply as the intruder alarm sounds.
Seeing the hangar for myself, I realize what I missed when I viewed it through my drones. The tear-shaped frame contains very well-concealed thruster ports and other modules, the purpose of which I do not know. Around the inside edge, I can just barely make out a slight shimmering field of distortion where I’m guessing the main section of the ship has somehow hidden itself.
Prototype: The Lost and Forgotten Series Page 15