“So pleased to meet you again, Molly. I apologize for my appearance. I normally wear my uniform when I’m in public, but I’m here incognito.”
“Molly,” Bill said, “It’s like we discussed on the sub. Raleigh needs your help.”
“You are the only person who can help him,” Martin said.
“It’s simple, Mol,” Bill said. “If you can help him, he will help us and Anne.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Raleigh’s voice was reedy, and he took an extra breath before each sentence. “Let me explain, Molly.” A glioblastoma was killing him. An experimental treatment with nanobots was his last hope. The programming was based on her ideas. The treatment was failing. “In exchange for your help, I will use my influence to dismiss the charges against my brother and my niece, your daughter. I have also promised Martin to restore his identity.”
The monk-cum-entrepreneur broke in. “You must help him, Molly.”
“The equipment on the table will give you access to the nanobots in my bloodstream,” Raleigh said. “All the software is loaded. Everything is ready for you to begin.”
Molly stared at all three men. “Why should I help you? What do I get out of this arrangement?”
Bill was ready to stop her if she tried to walk away. I won’t let go of this chance easily.
“Nothing, Mrs. Bain,” the colonel said. “If you chose not to help, Bill and Anne will go to prison. I guarantee that. As for Martin, he’s already dead, so he has nothing to lose.”
“I’m disidentified,” Martin said. “It’s worse than dead.”
Bill shook his head. Why has Raleigh included Anne in his threats? “Anne had nothing to do with the fire or the birds, Raleigh. I’m the one charged with the crimes.”
The corners of the colonel’s mouth lifted. “I happen to know, Bill, that Anne is suspected of interfering with the natural progression of a species through its evolutionary cycle. Inspector Kilel is very thorough, and she is relentless. She reports to me. I make the final charging decisions in these cases.”
“You and your regrets,” Bill hissed. “You’re an extortionist.”
“I’m dying. I want to live.”
Martin picked up the appeal. “Molly, you must understand what I’ve gone through. I have a chance to live again, a real life, among people. Please help me... and the colonel.”
“You are all insane,” Molly said. “You’ve dragged me away from my future to save your own. I’m not the person you knew, any of you. You seem to think that I’m suspended in amber, that I’m the same sailor or programmer or woman of the past. I’m none of those things. I’m inventing the future after all of you destroyed it.”
Molly turned her back on Bill and the others. Before Bill could grab her, Raleigh spoke. “You may be inventing the future, but Gore is not part of anyone’s future, least of all yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“My brother, Martin, others, all know that you want him.”
“It’s not true.”
“Perhaps they’re wrong. Perhaps they’re right.” Raleigh lifted himself out of his chair. A wave of fear crossed Molly’s brow, as if after more than a decade, she recognized the prosecutor of the Spike trials, the fanatic who cut a deal with her that condemned Martin. “I can squash Gore like a bug, and I can squash you.”
Raleigh leveled a hard glare at her. “My agreement to let you go free was kept secret from the world. That can change overnight, Molly,” he snapped his fingers with unexpected energy, “and what would happen to your dreams then?”
Molly glanced at Martin, whose lip was lifted in a triumphant sneer. He had cornered Molly with the threat of exposure. “The Spike was your fault, Molly, not mine. You programmed the robots, and it was your command that set them to work, and they failed.” His voice had been steadily rising in anger, but now he relapsed into his usual servile whine. “Look at it this way. You have the privilege of helping the prosecutor again, and helping me.”
“And you’ll help yourself, Molly,” the colonel said. “In gratitude for saving my life, I’ll see that Bill and little Anne have a life untainted by the shame of killing a small part of the earth.”
“Molly, please,” Bill said. “If you don’t care about me, help for Anne’s sake.”
Molly waved her hand at the equipment, still not willing to give in. “I’ve never seen these devices before.”
“I wouldn’t have sent Martin searching for you if I didn’t think you were up to the task, Molly,” the colonel said. “I’ve grown familiar with your work. You are my last hope.”
Bill offered one last plea. “Does your daughter deserve to go to prison? Ask yourself that.”
Molly scowled, but her former husband was right. Anne was an innocent. If I do nothing, Raleigh will make her another victim. Her life will be over. “What do I need to do?”
Colonel Penn rolled up the sleeve of his right forearm, showing the plate embedded in his skin. He lowered it to the reader, and a series of lights blinked in rapid succession: red, yellow, a steady green. Molly picked up a tablet, larger than a standard office tablet, and the screen brightened. The colonel named the application behind each icon, and Molly touched them. She recognized a common interface to AI programs, modified for medical use. Other icons on the tablets linked to a standard AI development environment. The network lights indicated a live connection, the data encrypted. Molly thought of using the tablet to send a call for help, but to whom? Gore? Her future was tied to the colonel’s.
The system’s complexity daunted her. Yes, the structure was built on some of her ideas, as well as other researchers’ ideas. She struggled to recall her college organic chemistry to grasp the highlights. The best place to start was the error logs. A few ideas came to her, but not a solution. She found three small bugs, and modified one of the program objects that played a role in how the nanobots interacted. She dived deep into the core logic, and her habitual focus morphed into a tunnel vision. She didn’t care about Colonel Penn, but Anne mattered more than she expected.
As the minutes dragged into an hour, Martin brought out food and water. Bill paced the cavernous room, as if he walked the deck of a ship. In some ways, the AI framework wasn’t much different than the oil tankers talking to one another as the oil convoy drove to Run, keeping each other at a distance to avoid collisions. Maybe, just maybe. She decided this was her best hope of making the system work for the colonel, without taking the whole thing apart and rebuilding it. After a few rounds of debugging, she compiled the additions, linked them to the main program, and restarted the hardware. “Colonel, I’m going to upload the changes to the nanobots.”
Like a child in a hospital bed, the BES officer complied. “How will you know if it’s working?”
Molly said nothing as she watched the monitors, noting the status messages flash on the screen as the cradle changed the bots’ instructions. The gloom of the concrete walls pressed down on her. “I’ll have to look at the logs again tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow.” The colonel grew irritated. “I need to know now.”
“I can’t deliver an instant fix,” she fired back. “It’s taken years for you to reach this state. Do you expect some sort of miracle?”
“Can’t you give me a preliminary judgment?”
A child in more ways than one. “Let’s wait an hour, and I’ll check the logs.”
“Very well,” the colonel said. “We’ll wait.”
The time passed with excruciating slowness. The four were silent. Martin sat on the floor hunched against a wall. Bill continued to pace, and the colonel seemed to age another ten years. Music from the council chambers filtered through the air ducts, and Molly imagined Gore waiting for her. They’re right. I do want him. She had rebuilt her life, accomplishing her goal of making the Cyprian Association into an economic and cultural force in the AFEZ. What was next? Her future was bright, but murky. Will Gregori have me? Together, we’d be unstoppable.
“It hasn’t been a hour.”
“Check the logs,” Raleigh thundered.
Molly relented and tapped the tablet into life. Bill and Martin watched over her shoulder. “The error logs are clear,” she said. “The service logs show plenty of activity, though I don’t understand some of the medical terminology.”
“Let me look.” The colonel studied the readout, but his face was impassive. “I need your professional opinion. Are your modifications working?”
“I don’t know. They need more time.”
“Give me your professional opinion!”
My professional opinion? You’re dead, Raleigh Penn, and no amount of fiddling with this experimental treatment will save you. What happens if I tell him the truth? He wants good news. He wants me to tell him his life is saved. He’ll know if I’m lying. I want to get out of this place on one piece.
“I believe there is a strong chance that the modifications are working, but without more facts, I can’t say anything more.”
The colonel considered Molly’s statement. “You are correct, of course. I’ve been sick a long time, and I’ve gambled everything on this. Forgive me my impatience.”
“What do we do now?” Bill said. After keeping calm for all this time, Molly could see how anxious he was. Anne really did mean everything to him.
“I have a room in a nearby hotel,” Colonel Penn said. “We wait, together.”
CHAPTER 34
♦ ♦ ♦
THE FIFTEEN-HOUR TIME DIFFERENCE BETWEEN Bežat and Brier Valley drained Anne’s energy. In counterpoint, Kilel’s vigilance in the City’s Hall’s reception area sharpened. Anne imagined the inspector sniffing mist or liters of coffee to keep her going after the BES jet landed at Dudinka or during the long drive to the refugee city’s outskirts. Anne never saw the officer take or drink anything, though she snatched a few hours’ sleep as the AI driver ticked off the kilometers.
Gut instinct told Anne her father was near, a feeling she feared that Kilel shared. She’s like a hunting dog that’s caught the quarry’s scent. A change in the inspector’s appearance tempered Anne’s distrust. Swapping her BES uniform for civilian clothes, she had metamorphosed from martinet paramilitary officer to a striking, if prim, privileged-class woman who happened to pack a staser. Anne had teased out some of Kilel’s personal story: She grew up in the Palouse Grasslands. Her father was an ecosystem restoration scientist whose work was wiped out by the Spike. Her mother died when she was ten. Kilel served in the military under Anne’s uncle.
History Anne did not share with Kilel included the existence of a protected file in Anne’s private com folder. Her awareness of the file itched like a bug bite. Her uncle had entrusted her with its safe-keeping, Anne thought. Would telling Kilel betray him? Would it matter if I betrayed him?
The hours dragged by in the cathedral-like lobby of City Hall. The two spent little time out-of-doors, both distrustful of the sticky grime that had streaked the building’s exterior and settled on the unmarked police car the inspector borrowed in Dudinka. Kilel, her eyes red with irritation, dug into her travel bag and handed Anne tissues infused with antihistamine. The com signal was strong, but Anne’s c-tribe was unreachable, and most important for her, Mike was unreachable. She feared that Mike would lose interest in her and their plan for the magpie chicks. She needed to be there with him—for the birds’ sake, and for her own.
As afternoon turned into evening, the quality and numbers of people arriving at City Hall changed from ordinary to strange and wonderful. The cavalcade was at once a zoo and a high-fashion show. One couple was naked, their skin was painted in a kaleidoscope of color that shifted with every stride. One gentleman was dressed in a military uniform from a century or two in the past, except that his face was that of a tiger. A beautiful, dark-haired woman in a skin-tight red gown accompanied him, but Anne missed her face in the busy crowd. Anne scanned the public com channels, hoping to see her father’s signal, but IDs, video, and text chatter overloaded the system. Kilel had problems as well, even with her powerful filtering tools.
The crowd thinned around 19:00. Latecomers hurried down a corridor that led to the council chambers. The doors closed, and the com signals died off; the room was protected by an anti-snooping system. The inspector was unable to penetrate the security. With a sigh Kilel suggested something to eat, almost as if Anne were a friend sharing a travel adventure, and Anne admitted she was hungry. The hotel cafe was empty, and the two women ordered a simple dinner.
The bass of music echoed from the council chambers as the walls of the building transmitted the low-frequency booms. They died off for a time, then came back. Kilel had gambled she would spot Bill as he came in the main entrance, and the gamble had not paid off. The inspector’s disappointment did not deter her. If anyone can find my dad, she can. I have to respect that.
A shift change resulted in a new reception clerk on duty. With Anne in tow, Kilel approached a young woman who would not be out of place in New York West or San Francisco.
“May I help you?” The woman was chirpy.
“We’re looking for someone, a relative,” Kilel said. “May I show you his photo?” The inspector shared the photo of Anne’s father over the hotel reception com channel with the clerk. “Have you seen him?”
The clerk regarded Kilel closely. “We are obliged to protect the privacy of our guests, Ms...”
“ Kilel. The young woman with me is his daughter. It’s rather urgent that we find her father.”
“Your relationship?”
“A friend.”
Anne wanted to alert the clerk to the truth, but she held back, in part because she again felt her father’s proximity. Give the inspector a chance to find him.
Kilel set a €10 bill on the counter in front of the clerk, who eyed it without touching it.
“If you leave a message, Ms. Kilel, I will see if I can forward it to him.”
“He’s here?”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot answer that question.”
“Miss, if you would be kind enough to let Mr. Penn know that we are anxious to find him, I’d appreciate it.”
“I would be happy to help.” The clerk glanced to her left—twice—as she pocketed the bill.
As one, Anne and Kilel followed the clerk’s gaze to an elevator. A man in a plain business suit escorted the woman in the red gown into an elevator. Just as the doors closed, the man showed his face in profile. Anne gasped and said, “Dad” sotto voce.
Kilel bolted toward the elevator doors. They shut before she got there. Kilel punched the elevator button and sent call requests to the elevator through the hotel com. A full sixty seconds passed before it reappeared at the hotel lobby, empty.
“Get on.” Kilel’s order came out as close to frantic as Anne had ever heard.
“Up or down?”
Kilel hesitated. “Down.” The inspector did not explain why as Anne punched the button for the lowest level. The world shifted; Anne had become an ally of the inspector, instead of a prisoner.
The elevator door opened to a dingy concrete hall festooned with pipes dripping with condensation. Lights in the ceiling cast deep shadows every few meters. Anne stepped out of the elevator, but Kilel halted. The elevator doors slid toward closing, but Kilel put her hand out to keep them open.
“What’s wrong?” Anne said, eager to explore. “You saw him. My father got on the elevator. He’s here.”
“I don’t like it,” Kilel said.
“What? Are you claustrophobic? Or scared? Dad is here.”
Kilel sniffed. “This is a perfect place for an ambush. They could be waiting for us.”
“For you, you mean.”
Kilel showed a tight smile. “We’re in no rush.” She motioned Anne back into the elevator.
“No, I want to go find my father.”
“What if I left you down here? How would you find him?”
&n
bsp; The distant echoes of a metal door banging shut made Kilel’s point. Anne returned to the lobby with Kilel.
“What now?” Anne said, dismayed by the inspector’s dithering. What if that was my only chance?
“We wait.”
Kilel sat at the same sofa they had claimed in the morning, and Anne reluctantly joined her. If her father had gone to an upper floor, it did make sense that he would come back down. At 02:00 local time, the inspector decided that Anne’s father would not appear, at least in the town hall lobby.
They returned to their hotel room. Kilel took a chair near the window and closed her eyes, not to rest, Anne thought, but to think. Kilel entered a meditative state. Anne watched, at once fascinated and intimidated by the inspector’s inner calm and strength. Her breath came steady and even. Her facial muscles relaxed. Anne had learned these techniques in high school yoga classes. She needed to take up yoga again. After a few minutes of stillness, Kilel opened her eyes. “He’s coming here.”
“My father? How do you know?” Anne cried. “Are you psychic?” She’s lost it.
Kilel moved without haste to the window, which overlooked a public square. “I’ll forward you the image. The receptionist sent it to me.”
That was more solid, Anne thought. Her minds-eye notified her of a new message. The attachment was a security camera view of her father and the woman in the red dress exiting a back door. Anne recognized her. “It can’t be.”
“It’s your father.”
“Yes. The woman is...” The word stuck in Anne’s throat. The encounter was so unexpected, she had trouble accepting it as real.
“Let’s go,” Kilel said.
“You said they were coming here.” Anne slipped her shoes on.
“Colonel Penn is staying in this hotel. They are either running from him or to him. I’m betting it’s the latter.”
The women passed through the hotel’s front entrance and halted near a kiosk with broken glass and graffiti in Russian. A few pedestrians wandered in the square. Anne saw the borrowed police car parked in the hotel’s driveway. She must’ve told the car’s AI to move it. Kilel scanned the courtyard, her hand near her staser. Its ready light signaled full power. “There.” She indicated a man and a woman about fifty meters away, and Anne recognized her father. Before she called out, Kilel ordered, “Quiet. You’ll get your chance to speak to him.”
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