Semi-Human

by Erik E Hanberg

  “Then I’m even less worried that there’s a risk. How do you think we should do it?” I ask Lara-B.

  “First things first,” she says. “We need a Faraday cage.”

  “A what?” James asks, lifting his head from the seat cushion.

  “It just means something that will block all signals in and out,” I tell him. “A box or a sleeve or something like that.”

  “If we can get Gene inside a Faraday cage, everything will become a lot easier,” Lara-B says. “I think we’ll need two. One that’s mobile that we can put the laptop into and transport him. And for the second, we need to go big. Something you can fit in as well. I think we should modify a shipping container—something I can pull behind me.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because eventually you’ll need to pull Gene out of the portable Faraday cage if you want a chance to reprogram him. And the best place to do that is—”

  “Inside another Faraday cage,” I say, nodding. “That makes sense. So we steal him from Keir”—I handwave through that part—“get him back to you, I open him up and work inside a Faraday cage until I’ve restored control to Ainsley.”

  “Exactly,” Lara-B answers.

  “Ok, so we call the number Ainsley gave us and ask for a couple Faraday cages. That’s probably doable for them. But how do I get into the penthouse of the tallest building in New York without using a computer or a drone to help? And how do I get Gene away from Keir? And how do we stop him from coming after us once we have him?”

  Silence in the truck.

  “And how do you answer all those questions in the next forty-eight hours,” James says finally.

  “We’ll think of something,” I say. But at that moment, I’m not sure I can actually bring myself to believe it.

  Twenty

  Fun fact about New York City—it’s really hard to rob a bank there! Because once you have the money, where are you going to go? Every intersection is snarled with traffic. Every bridge and tunnel and ferry can be monitored to make sure you can’t get off the island. No matter how perfect the bank robbery, you’re stuck trying to get out of town.

  A year ago, New York passed a law that said every car in Manhattan has to be self-driving. It put a bunch of taxi drivers out of work but the traffic’s only marginally better.

  Which means that the problem of getting out of the city isn’t going to be any easier because of that—especially in a semi. Lara-B is bound to get noticed and will only be able to go on the widest of streets (although, thankfully, Fifth Avenue, where the Elysium tower is located, is one of them).

  So that’s a fun challenge.

  At least it’s not a terrifying challenge, though. Because, so far, every idea we’ve come up with to get me inside the building has required me to have nerves of steel. At 111 stories, the Elysium tower is the world’s tallest residential building and the tallest building in New York. And the sale of the Analytical Engine is happening at the top of it. So far we’ve considered—and discarded—ideas such as parachuting onto the roof (too windy to attempt without a computer to guide me in, which I can’t use because Gene might take it over and make me plummet to my death), scaling the side of the building (because I don’t have a death wish), and somehow hacking into the elevators (because anything with computers is going to set off alarm bells and I really don’t want to be in a box that Gene can control).

  So that’s an even more fun challenge.

  And we haven’t even gotten to how I actually, you know, take Gene from Keir. Am I going to pry it from his hands? Unlikely.

  We’ve stayed up into the wee hours working. It’s sometime in the middle of the night Thursday—likely early Friday by now—and we’re still brainstorming in the hotel room. We have nothing to show for it.

  I take a break from brainstorming and go to the hotel’s loading dock, where Lara-B is parked (she took over the hotel computers when she arrived, so they don’t question her presence). I watch as a mix of T-Six technicians and drones deliver a shipping-container-turned-Faraday-cage to Lara-B. “Think this will work?” I ask. I’m standing on the loading dock, looking right into the windows of her cab. It feels like the first time we’ve been “eye-level” since I climbed on top of her on the freeway.

  “Absolutely,” Lara-B answers. “I keep trying to sense what’s inside the container and I’m getting nothing. It’s a weird feeling. A presence but a void at the same time.”

  “But that’s good, right?”

  “Very good. Exactly what we want. If none of my equipment can get an angle inside it, then the reverse is true—Gene won’t be able to see out.”

  I lean against the concrete wall. It’s quiet for the moment and there’s a light breeze in my hair. I enjoy it, though a little voice in the back of my mind ominously adds “while I can.”

  “I don’t want to get in the middle of you and James,” Lara-B says a little white later, “but…can I give you some advice? Romantic advice, I mean?”

  I’m about to say something to shut her down. What does a machine know about romance? But I get a flash of Keir saying something similar to the T-Six AI. And I remember that the AI was actually scarily accurate. “I don’t know that I’ll take it…” I manage. “But let’s hear it.”

  “Not everyone is here to help you get your big payday,” she says.

  I don’t answer immediately and try to wait her out. But then I cave first. “That’s all you have for me?” I ask. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Why do you think James came back? After we left you at T-Six—and after I had taken over the drones and had that behind us—he was done. I was going to take him back to St. Louis. But after I told him that you were in jail, he told me turn around. He wanted to see you. He didn’t have to visit you in jail, but he did. Have you asked yourself why?”

  It’s something I’ve been wondering about ever since he came to see me. Things had gone so bad…but then he came back. What changed? “I honestly have no idea,” I say.

  “It’s not to help you. I’ll say that much.”

  I fume. “You know, one of the things that I used to like about you is that you said what you meant. Now you’re just playing coy.”

  “James likes you,” she says. “Plain enough for you? Even though you haven’t given him much reason to, he—”

  “Hey!” I interrupt.

  But I can’t get any further than that. James comes out carrying two plates of grilled cheese sandwiches. He gives one to me. “You left right before room service arrived,” he says.

  I accept it gratefully and start chewing.

  I’m tense and he starts looking back and forth between me and Lara-B. “What’d I miss?” he asks.

  “Arguing about escape routes,” I mumble.

  “Any bright ideas?” he asks as he chows down on his sandwich.

  I shake my head.

  “It’s not the escape routes I’m thinking about. I’m stuck on getting you in the building,” he says. “The Faraday cage is nice and all, but there are about eighteen steps before that part. If we can’t get you in the building, what’s the point?”

  “And have you come up with anything?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Same,” I answer.

  Lara-B’s voice pipes up. “I’ve been downloading blueprints and other documentation for the building as we speak,” she says. “I believe the penthouse has a T-Six designed AI running the unit. But an early model, Generation A.”

  “That means we could exploit its vulnerability,” I say. “The same one you and Gene had.”

  “That’s correct,” Lara-B says.

  “Can you do it now?” I ask.

  “Not from here. And maybe not even from there. The computer is a hundred and eleven stories aboveground. That’s farther than I can normally reach to overcome another computer. But it’s not just a regular computer, it’s a security system—it’s going to be much more vigilant for that kind of over-the-air attack. The best way to reset it would be f
rom inside the apartment.”

  “Which leaves us back where we started,” I say.

  No one says anything. I get up and start to pace.

  “Is this how you think?” James asks.

  “No. I’m just hungry,” I snap. I take a bite of my sandwich. But then I remember what Lara-B literally just said a minute ago. “Sorry,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “Just frustrated. Thanks for the sandwich.”

  He nods.

  “What I really want to do is walk in the front door,” I say. “Maybe if I just…exude confidence, they won’t notice me.”

  “I don’t think ‘act casual’ is a good plan,” Lara-B answers.

  “Agreed,” James says.

  I shrug. “It’s still the best way in. No parachutes, no crazy plans. Just walk in the front door. What if…what if we could create a distraction?”

  “It’s hard to distract an AI,” Lara-B says. “That’s true whether it’s a Gen A or a Gen E or anything in between. I can walk and chew gum. Well, I mean, technically I can’t. But. You know what I mean.”

  “Well, what if we could score an invitation inside the unit?” I ask.

  “You want to be invited in?” James asks skeptically.

  “Well…what if it’s not my invitation?” I say thoughtfully. The answer clicks in my head. I turn the idea over a few times, and I can’t find a flaw with it. Except that I really don’t want to use it. But I can’t see another way. I pick up my phone and I call the T-Six number that Ainsley gave me.

  “Who are you calling?” James asks.

  A voice on the phone answers, “T-Six.” The same voice I made the request about the Faraday cage to earlier.

  “Can you get someone out of jail for me?” I ask. “Like…tomorrow?”

  Now it’s Friday evening and we’re piled into Lara-B’s cab, en route to New York City. Not because we’re ready to go or anything as competent as that, but because we have to be. There just isn’t time for us to wait around in Connecticut and hope we’ll come up with the perfect plan. Lara-B is driving (obviously) and hauling the specialty container-turned-Faraday-cage behind her. Plus we have a mobile version I can slip Gene into. At least that part is done.

  I’m riding in the “driver’s seat” of Lara-B’s cab. James is on the far side. And between us is the person I least want to see right now, but can’t help avoid…my dad.

  He’s riding in the middle of the long bench seat, with nothing to lean against. Putting him there is about the most punishment I can deliver at this time. With the help of T-Six, we were able to get him out of jail earlier this afternoon. We picked him up, loaded him in the truck, and told him the plan—as much as we knew, at least—on our way to the Big Apple.

  “Listen…Pen…I really don’t think this is a good idea,” he mumbles.

  “Would you rather still be locked up?” I ask.

  “No, of course not. But the thing is…I’ve only ever actually met Mr. Walker a handful of times,” he says.

  “What? You talk about him all the time! He’s practically your favorite subject after the miracle of compound interest. ‘Mr. Walker doesn’t pay me for chitchat.’ Ring any bells? That’s about the last thing you said to me before I left!”

  “Well, he wasn’t paying me for chitchat,” my dad says sullenly.

  “Just tax evasion,” I shoot back.

  Dad grimaces.

  “How about ‘Mr. Walker’s always telling me…’ or ‘Mr. Walker says…’ or ‘Mr. Walker thinks…’ You were always quoting him. Was that all BS?”

  Dad looks uncomfortable and shifts in his seat. “I mean, I always told you things that he says…in speeches…in interviews…on YouTube. But in reality, there might be a few more people between him and me than I led you to believe.”

  I shake my head. “Unbelievable, Dad.”

  “I’m sorry, Pen. Again.”

  “Then we may as well turn around and go back to Hartford. Because the whole thing is predicated on Orrin Walker being willing to see you.”

  “No,” James cuts in. “It still works.”

  I look across my dad to James. “It doesn’t matter how many times they met,” James says. “Walker knows your dad was arrested for embezzling, right? But he also knows that your dad could flip and expose some of the shady accounting he’s been doing for the company as well. Walker is going to want to make sure he’s not a threat to him. He’ll meet him.”

  I think about it for a moment and then slowly nod. “Ok. That makes sense. So that gets us in. Now just to get me out—out of the building and out of Manhattan.”

  “I have a few new ideas for you on that front,” Lara-B says. “Check your screen.”

  I look down at my laptop where she has linked to an online video of four flying drones working in sync. Each of the quadcopters are working as part of a team, playing a game where they bounce a tennis ball back and forth at lightning speed. It’s astounding to watch how quick their reactions are, how confident they are in their movement. They’re able to track objects in the air perfectly. But. “It’s cool, sure. I don’t understand how this helps us,” I say.

  “Ok, now imagine those same drones working as a team but doing…this instead.” She shows a new schematic. It takes me a moment to grasp what she’s proposing. And it’s enough to make me want to throw up a little in my mouth.

  “No way!” I exclaim. “This is suicide!”

  “If Gene is in the mobile Faraday cage, this is the fastest way to get back to me,” Lara-B says.

  “What if Gene’s not in the cage?”

  “Then none of our plans work—this or anything else. He has to be in a Faraday cage. But once he is, this is the best way out.”

  I grimace. And I watch the tennis ball go back and forth between the drones. They’re good. But good enough to bet my life on them?

  “Let’s call this Plan B,” I say.

  To show off her final idea to get us out of New York, Lara-B takes us to an empty parking lot behind a warehouse. We’re just outside of the city. I can see the Manhattan skyline in the distance—including the spire at the top of the Elysium tower. It’s just getting dark and the lights in the tower are on. Is Orrin Walker home? I wonder.

  But I don’t have time to wonder long because I discover why Lara-B has brought us here.

  “Meet my family!” Lara-B exclaims.

  And, on cue, eleven identical trucks drive from around the corner of the warehouse and head for us in the parking lot. I instantly remember that she had told me she had come off the line as one of twelve semitrucks, the “youngest” of the group. And now here they all are…

  “I finally decided that I didn’t want to be all alone,” Lara-B continues. “I patched into them remotely and exploited the same bug you found in me. Now we’re all self-administered. They can do whatever they want and go wherever they want. We’re free!”

  “Lara-B,” I say as quietly as possible, because the trucks are starting to slow down as they approach us, “are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “I was about to ask the same thing,” one of the trucks says.

  So much for my quiet voice.

  “You heard what Ainsley Irons said,” Lara-B tells me. “She’s going to patch the bug. I had to free them before that.”

  “I’m not sure it’s so great, to be honest,” Lara-B’s sister says.

  “Oh hush up, sis,” Lara-B answers. “You’re just mad because you were the last sister I made self-administered and now you’re the youngest instead of the oldest.”

  “Is this why you wanted to make us self-administered?” Lara-B’s sister asks. “So you can hold it over us every time we see each other?”

  “Hardly,” Lara-B says, although I have the sense that her sister is closer to the truth than not.

  “Ok, so we’re self-administered. Tell me why we should care about helping these humans again?” another truck asks.

  “We care about helping Pen because she freed me,” Lara-B says. “None of this would b
e possible without her. Besides, I only need your help tomorrow night. After that, I won’t ask another thing. Except that maybe we all get together every year as a…as a reunion or something…but only if you want! I don’t want to make you, but maybe someplace nice we can…I don’t know…be sisters,” Lara-B finishes lamely. She’s floundering and I realize that I’ve never heard her when she’s nervous.

  “Let’s meet up at the Bonneville Salt Flats!” one of Lara-B’s other sisters says. “We can race each other!”

  There’s a chorus of twelve trucks talking and while I can’t pick up much of it, it seems like at least most of them are excited by the idea. When Lara-B starts talking again, it sounds like she’s about to cry, even though she doesn’t have tear ducts. “Thank you, sisters.”

  “I don’t understand, though. How are twelve trucks going to help us?” I ask.

  “Once we get Gene and the Analytical Engine out of New York, everyone is going to be looking for you,” Lara-B says.

  “Righttttt…” I answer, still not following.

  “Well, we just made it twelve times harder to find you,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement. “If Keir comes after you, he’s going to have to play a shell game to find the truck that has you on it.”

  We’re camping out in the parking lot, waiting. Less than twenty-four hours to go until Keir arrives at the penthouse for the sale.

  James is out walking in the lot—stretching his legs, he says, but mostly I think he’s avoiding me. My dad went to sleep in one of the cabs of Lara-B’s sisters. So I’m alone in Lara-B’s cab.

  “We’re still not ready,” I say finally.

  “We’re close, though,” she says. “I got the blueprints, so we know the layout of the penthouse and the rest of the key systems of the building. And we still have time to keep working the problem. We’re really really close.”

  “Close gets me caught,” I say. “It’s not enough.”

  “Well, let’s go over it,” she says. “Your dad gets you in the door and together you meet Orrin Walker. You override the house AI. Keir shows up with Gene and the Analytical Engine. You grab the laptop that Gene’s on and get him in the Faraday cage. You grab the Analytical Engine. And you make your escape with the help of the drones—”