Cyber Noir Redux: (Book Six) (The Feedback Loop 6)

by Harmon Cooper

  “So what did you do after that?” Rocket asks, interrupting my brief reverie.

  I shrug and the outline of my body on the lower left hand portion of my viewing pane registers my movement. Damn that’s weird. I haven’t even begun to process the fact that I’m in a droid’s body. “I did the same shit I do every night: try to take over the world.”

  Doc: I refuse to give you kudos for your Pinky and The Brain reference. I’m still annoyed at you.

  Me: You ain’t the only one. At least Rocket still likes me.

  Doc: You could knee him in the nuts, bang his sister and steal his lunch money, and he’d still look up to you.

  I place my hands together over my lap. The gesture comes naturally, but the readout on my iNet screen notes every single gesture in real-time. I’d hate to see what this looked like if I could whack off. “To answer your question – I raised a buncha hell and went to some pretty dark places within my own psyche. Not gonna lie, I was going a bit nutzo when Aiden showed up and bada boom bada bing, I’m back to the real world. So pardon me if I’m still adjusting here. What the hell time is it anyway?”

  Sophia shakes her head. “You’re a Humandroid now. You should be able to tell any time at any place in the world faster than it takes for us to glance at a clock.”

  “What? How?”

  “What time do you think it is?”

  “I think it is 3:37 Eastern Standard time.”

  She turns her tablet over and points at the time. Sure enough, it’s 3:37. A message from someone named Chuntao pops up and the tablet dings.

  “Wait, are you telling me I can do that with any time in the world?”

  “What time is it in Moscow?” Rocket asks.

  “12:37 AM,” I answer before I can even process the question. I smile. “Well, that settles it team, we need to head to the nearest pub and see if they have a quiz night. We’ll win big.”

  Frances narrows her eyes at me. “You can’t drink.”

  Doc: Hah! That’s gotta sting!

  Me: I’m not an alcoholic, Doc, I’m a connoisseur.

  Doc: Says every ‘not an alcoholic’.

  ~*~

  Sophia grabs my upper arm and looks at me all dewy-eyed. “Up, up,” she tells me, “we’re not done running tests.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Up!”

  I brush her hands away. “Let me do it myself.” I stand, and an image of my body on my viewing pane flashes, letting me know my legs are now in use. This gets me thinking about what a Humandroid actually sees compared to what I’m currently viewing. Luckily, Sophia is two steps ahead of me.

  “You are likely wondering about the graphics that appear on your vision pane.” She taps her finger on the side of her dome. “This is aftermarket software I’ve installed called InterHead, a software that is actually for soldiers who direct avatar Humandroids in the field of battle. Thanks again to Doc getting his hands on it.”

  “So this is what a soldier sees?”

  “Yes, if they’re guiding a Humandroid body in the field. During the eight years of your digital coma, there was a lot of pushback from the general public regarding the usage of Humandroids in combat. This was one thing the Pentagon and the FCG came up with to appease the general public and give the ‘control’ to humans, yet use the expendability of a Humandroid.”

  I rub my fingers together; the texture is spot on. “So all of combat droids are controlled by soldiers nowadays?”

  “No, one in twenty, something like that.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t take much to appease the general public, as long as you look like you’re trying to do so.”

  Doc: Hey! That’s my line.

  “But how did you install it?” I ask her. “It’s not like I’m in a dive vat or any other type of control seat.”

  “Easy. I had Evan upload it and set it as his comprehension software before he powered down.”

  “And when Aiden spawned?”

  “I had the torso droid do the same. Enough questions, let’s get you moving.”

  I glance from Rocket to Frances. “You guys ready to take this bad boy for a spin?”

  “I think … ” Frances pulls her crossed arms even tighter to her chest. “I think I’ll go home.” With that, she exits Sophia’s office.

  One small step for man one giant leap for man-in-a-humandroid’s-body-kind, I follow Frances, much to Sophia’s consternation. “Wait up, Frances!” I call after her.

  She spins on her heel, jams her fists on her hips and gives me the dirtiest look she can conjure up. “I … I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

  I take a step back. “Frances, I’m telling you, you gotta believe me, it’s not what you think! All I wanted was to log out. Damn, I can’t stress that enough. All I wanted was to log out and … ”

  See you.

  She gets close enough to me that I can see my reflection her eyes, the reflection of someone else. “Then why,” she angrily whispers, “did you log back in? If that’s all you wanted, why did you log back in to see Dolly?”

  “I just did.” I look away. There’s no reason for what I did and I’m not going to sit here and trying to think one up.

  “That’s just about the stupidest thing to ever come out of your mouth! The stupidest! You are such an insensitive, immature, self-centered idiot. I hope … I hope you are trapped in that Humandroid body forever!”

  “Quantum, Frances,” Sophia now stands in the doorway of her office, “we still have tests to run. If you two want to argue with each other, you can do so after I’ve finished my tests. Not trying to be bitchy here, but what we have just done needs to be thoroughly documented and recorded. I don’t want to get into the details of the scientific method, or how your little drama is currently bashing it in the head, but all of this needs to be recorded. Your fight can wait.”

  Frances holds her head high. If she could lift into the air and do Sophia’s passive-aggressive avatar lift off, she would.

  “Let’s talk about this later. Please, there’s more to this story.” I scan her with my Humandroid eyes – she’s running on anger and adrenaline, and most of her vitals are solidly in the red. “I’m serious, Frances, you’ve got to give me a chance to talk this through with you. I know I don’t deserve a chance, but please.”

  “No, I don’t got to give you anything!” Frances storms away, grabs a duffle bag from her office, and slams the door on the way out.

  “Holy crash and burn relationship holocaust, Q-grape!” I turn to Rocket, open my mouth to tell him to shut up, and realize I don’t have the heart, literally. I think of a couple of Tinman quotes, but none of them seem to apply. Right now, the Scarecrow’s quote seems most appropriate.

  “Let’s get these tests over with then,” I finally say.

  “Good.” Sophia motions for me to come back into her office. She instructs Rocket to move a chair out of the way and once he has done so, she administers a field sobriety test. “First, I want you to touch your nose.”

  I do as instructed. Muscles light up and a series of trajectory numbers run across the top of my viewing pane.

  “Right hand.”

  “Anything else, officer?” I try to say in a slurred voice pattern, only to realize that the pitch of my voice hasn’t changed at all. This gets me thinking about the volume. “ANYTHING ELSE, OFFICER?” I shout.

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “Why are you yelling?”

  “I was just testing the limits of my vocal settings.” I go for Aiden’s patented predatory grin.

  “Keep it up and I’ll modify your voice so that you sound like SpongeBarb SquareBra. And what’s with the silly grin?”

  Rocket laughs. “Don’t worry, Q Dolla, I still think you’re awesome.”

  “Lift your leg,” Sophia says, “now point your big toe.”

  “Is this really necessary? You just saw me chase after Frances.”

  She sets her tablet on her table, which is cluttered with papers, binders, clipboards, and Soylent Orange protein bar wrappers. “I am taking
you out into the general public today and I want to make sure everything is stable and that you have adequate control.”

  “If you want to make sure that I’m ‘fit to be seen’, you should probably take me to a thrift store so I can get some new duds. Look at me,” I wave my hands over my body, “I’m two shakes away from a geek over here. And where’s my shirt? Why am I chasing after Frances with my top off? Give me some dignity, dammit!”

  ~*~

  “This should be interesting.” After an hour worth of tests, including a Kill Bill-esque wiggle your big toe test, Her Mad Scientistess-ness tells Rocket to beat it and Yours Truly to follow her out to her vehicle. So I do what I’m told, like an obedient droid. The good news is that I’m alive and well, not quite kicking ass and taking names, but closer than I was a few hours ago. Which brings me to the bad news:

  “I’ve never had a Humandroid stay with me at my new place, but don’t worry, I’ve ordered all the necessary equipment. I hope you don’t mind if I monitor a few things and record some of our interactions,” Sophia says as she approaches her aeros. “I think we will have a great time together.”

  “Are you sure I can’t take my combat cane?” I ask for the third time.

  “I told you, no, you don’t need that thing.”

  “It saved my life; I’m a bit partial to it.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “Why can’t I just sleep here at the Dream Team offices? Also, is sleep the right term? What the hell am I supposed to be doing while I’m recharging?”

  She turns to me and looks at me like a puddy tat looks at a tweety bird. “You are sooooo cute as a Humandroid with your innocent questions.”

  “You’re pulling my leg.”

  “No, really, you’re a lot more enjoyable somehow.” She takes a refreshing inhale of freshly toxic Baltimore air and smiles big. “I don’t know what it is!”

  My viewing pane is cluttered with traffic patterns and conditions, atmospheric readings, upcoming weather patterns, the atmospheric particulate matter density in parts per million for the metro Baltimore area and how it compares to other cities – damn, it really grinds my gears.

  Sophia stops in front of a compact aeros parked in the shade of a recently manicured White Ash tree. A little pink number, she owns the type of car that would have fit in the glove compartment of a Smart Cars from my youth. Once glance in the window and I see that the space behind the seat is awash in papers, Soylent Yellow wrappers, and empty BullBean cans.

  “The Dream Team offices aren’t zoned as a Humandroid recharge point. Also, like I said, someone needs to monitor you.” As she turns to me, I notice that the eyeliner on her right eye is noticeably longer than that on her left. She’s wearing heavy pancake makeup to cover the blemishes and blotches on her face, and her vitals readout indicates high stress levels yet her blood pressure is low, which makes me wonder if she’s on antidepressants.

  It would make sense.

  “So we’re going to your place?” I ask just to cut through the silence caused by reading her vitals.

  “I thought you wanted new duds, as you put it.”

  “Yeah, new duds, let’s start there. I can’t go around looking like a stiff.”

  I get into her aeros and the seatbelt comes at me a hooded cobra and snugs me up like a boa constrictor. In my RW body, I would have hated the damn thing. In this body, not so much. Discomfort just doesn’t register the same way, apparently.

  Sophia drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “Um, Chuntao, please locate the nearest department store that specializes in men’s clothing.”

  Her vehicle answers in Mandarin. She switches to Mandarin and speaks with her aeros for a moment, and oddly enough I understand exactly what she’s saying. No subtitles, it’s as if she’s speaking English with a different accent. I listen in wonder for a moment as she updates her aeros about the day’s proceeding. The two of them chit chat for a moment like they’re old college roommates and I notice that she doesn’t mention the fact that I’m a human in a Humandroid’s carcass. To the aeros, I’m just your typical droid.

  “Thrift store,” I finally interrupt their chatter, “it’ll be a cold day in Proxima hell when I start buying over-priced nancy-boy hipster duds.”

  Sophia continues speaking in Mandarin as the vehicle lifts into the air. Chuntao actually laughs at her jokes, especially when she uses the phrase ‘store where people give their dead clothes’ to describe a thrift store.

  My vision pane lights up with an ‘unauthorized access attempt’ warning as Chuntao attempts to access my system. Of course, I don’t let the nosy AI in; it’s none of the vehicle’s business what’s going on with my little situation over here. After I’ve denied it access, and as the aeros speeds to the nearest thrift store, Chuntao turns her questioning to me.

  “Why won’t you let me access your system, PTSD/FDA Monitor 1351885?”

  “I don’t let just any AI in on the first date, so back off,” I tell the vehicle, only I tell it in Mandarin. Talk about a frickin’ parlor trick! “And the name is Quantum.”

  “That’s right!” Sophia is just about as happy as she has ever been. “You are fluent in Mandarin.”

  “I am?”

  The words coming out of my mouth seem like English to me. They’re the exact words that run through my head, but my auditory response recognizes them as Mandarin. Holy Yao Ming! The heir to the fabulous Hughes family fortune is ready to travel to the Far East and seek the wisdom of the ancients. Talk about the fool on the hill!

  “Is he dumb or something?” Chuntao asks. “Maybe he is an older model.”

  “I told you to back off, you shitty little rice bucket!”

  Sophia covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. She can’t help herself, she laughs long and hard, and boy is her aeros peeved. It is practically growling by the time she apologizes, “Sorry, Chuntao, ignore him.”

  “That’s right, shit egg,” I tell the aeros, “keep jacking with me and see what happens.”

  My seat whips back and forth and I nearly bang my humandroid noggin on the dashboard.

  “Chuntao!” Sophia chortles. “Stop!”

  I lift my fist and give the glove box a solid punch. My viewing pane flashes, letting me know that I’ve violated anti-violence protocol.

  What the … ?

  “Quantum!”

  Chuntao makes a fart sound at me.

  “Damn you, Chuntao!”

  Sophia blasts me over iNet.

  Sophia: We haven’t notified Walliburton that we’re using Evan’s body to r-dive. You’ve got to keep your cool, Quantum. We don’t want this experiment getting out. This is beyond top secret it’s … ”

  “It’s illegal?” I finish her sentence aloud.

  Doc: Both of you knock that shit off now. No anti-violence protocol violation notice went out to Walliburton. I should have briefed you on this earlier, Sophia, but silly me, I wanted to at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Sophia: Briefed me on what?

  Doc: I didn’t want you to take him out of the office in the first place – remember that conversation? And there was no way in hell I was going to let Quantum R-dive without masking his activities from Walliburton. That being said, Quantum, you need to act like a grown-up, display some impulse control and keep your damn mouth shut, especially in public. Screw up once and I will lock out your direct control and leave you in voice-command safe mode – and guess whose voice?

  Me: Sophia’s?

  Doc: Sophia’s.

  Me: Understood, Doc. Sorry, Sophia.

  “Apologize to Chuntao too. I’ve used her as my AI since I was in high school.”

  “Seriously?”

  As I stare out the window at a passing aeros transport vehicle, I grumble a half-hearted and thoroughly insincere apology. It comes out 75% less grumbly than I’d like due to the fact that it ain’t my own voice.

  ~*~

  At least I won’t be needing new kicks.

  One look down at m
y other avatar’s DisNike Boba Fetts gives me a sense of both amusement and dread. I’m in something else’s body wearing my own stompers, and don’t even get me started on what it was like to actually see my real body in the dive vat.

  It was right after Sophia finished her field sobriety test. Rocket invited me to come check out, well, me, and I stupidly obliged. What can I say? I’m a sucker for punishment. There my pasty ass was, all Karen Ann Quinlan on an exoskeletal frame submerged in the vat of goo with an NV Visor planted firmly on my skull, various evacuation tubes stuck in various places where the moon don’t shine, a respirator taped in my pie hole, and a two liter bag of McStarbucks GNC Zero-Residue Nutritionally Complete Organic feeding solution running into an IV catheter.

  Talk about looking pathetic. Even worse: I couldn’t exactly feel shameful. Sure, I was shameful – and I’m hyper-glad the Big FE wasn’t there to give me her best disappointed/angry face – but I didn’t get the urge to look away, or tuck my tail between my legs and skitter off like I should have. Instead, I scanned my own vitals to find out that, as I told Dolly, I’m a strapping young lad of almost forty with a commendable BMI and a full of head of hair.

  Mr. Legendary Quantum Hughes, am I right?

  Funny.

  Seeing me looking down at my-almost cadaver would be a helluva hoot to the people that knew me as an ass-kicking, take-no-names maverick in every sense of the word. More like Mr. Made-A-Big-Ass-Mistake Quantum Hughes or The Amazing Inanimate Vegetable Boy formerly known as Quantum Hughes. There I was, dead to the world, not able to shit, shower, or shave, all because of curiosity. Nothing self-deprecating here; them’s the cold, hard facts.

  Maybe it is a good thing I don’t feel nothing in my droid body.

  “And we’re almost there!” Sophia smiles at me. I don’t know why she’s so damn skippy about, but it’s definitely unsettling. “Saint Cajetan’s Thrift Emporium! It’s a new place, sort of like Buffalo Exchange but with some furniture. Check out the Yelp! Reviews.”

  They appear on the dash and I ignore them.