The bartender glared at her. She had his full attention now.
He smiled, shrugging it off. “Well, I figured a pretty young girl like you would be looking for a man. You’ll find plenty in here.”
A few of the patrons looked up from their drinks momentarily. The place was as quiet as a tomb.
“Yeah, well the man I’m looking for is not from around here, if you catch my drift.” This garnered a few more looks. “He’s a Muslim.”
The bartender laughed, but he wasn’t smiling. It was a mechanical laugh that wasn’t meant to fool anyone. “There are no Muslims here. Try looking in the next town over.”
The girl reached out and grabbed the bartender’s wrist in a surprisingly tight grip before he could walk away. She noticed that the patrons’ eyes were now glowing in the shadows of the bar like cats’ eyes.
“Well, the thing is, I’m looking for him here, and I’m not leaving until I find him. So maybe you can make things easy on yourself if you just tell me where he is. His name is Adnon.”
The bartender leaned over the bar and looked right into her eyes. “If you don’t let go of my hand, your loved ones will be looking for you.”
The patrons were on their feet and reaching out for the girl, jaws open wide for a hot meal. A man burst into the bar and began shooting them in the heads, popping them like balloons.
Tables turned over, glasses shattered on the tiled floor, and bodies went flying every which way. The bartender tried to free himself from the girl’s unnatural grip, but she held him fast.
“I’m not through with you,” she said. She hopped up onto the bar and slid over on her butt to the other side. The bartender reached under the bar for a gun, but she was too fast.
She grabbed the sawed off shotgun and jammed it under his nose, pushing forward until his back was to the bottles against the dirty mirror. They clinked together under his weight.
The man finished dispatching the ghouls on the other side of the bar. Then he trained his gun on the bartender.
“See, Adnon had to leave one human behind to manage any people poking around asking questions. So I think that if I pull this trigger, your brains will splatter all over your liquor bottles and you’ll be as dead as Julius Caesar.”
“Shit,” said the man, her partner, “anything you do here will be an improvement.” He looked at his watch and took out a small plastic bottle. He popped the cap and tilted the bottle, placing two pills on his tongue. He chewed them as he stared at the bartender.
“I tried to be nice,” hissed the girl in the bartender’s face. “Now that time has passed. Where’s Adnon?”
“He’s in a hut down by the river, in the swamp. You’ll need a canoe to get there. No one will rent you one.”
“Who said anything about renting?” asked the girl. She let him go and slid across to the other side of the bar in one deft move.
“You’ve been relieved of your post,” said the man, her partner. “If I were you I’d get the fuck out of Dodge.”
***
Adnon was sitting on a crudely constructed wooden pier outside his hut off the Caño Manamo River, looking out over the swampland and watching the sun rise, when he felt it.
He turned around slowly.
“Hello. Adnon, is it?”
Adnon’s eyes went wide. “How did you find me?”
“I followed the trail of breadcrumbs.”
“You sound like…is he dead?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with anything that happened in America,” Adnon pleaded.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I didn’t support Kafka. I ran away. I don’t know why you’re bothering me.”
“Yes, I guess that’s what you do best. You run away.”
“I severed all connections with OIL. I have nothing to do with them now.”
“But you did once, and now you’re infected.”
“I’m not hurting anyone. I keep to myself now.”
“What about those ghouls in town? They were once human.”
“I had to protect myself. I’m not going to turn anyone else, I swear it.”
“There are crimes that you’ve committed that have gone unanswered. And you’re infected.”
“So are you! So what?”
“So, you know that means I can’t allow you to live, a terrorist infected with alien DNA.”
“You’re a hypocrite. By that logic, you shouldn’t be allowed to live either.”
“Don’t you talk to me about logic. There is no logic in what you do. Me…I’ve served my country. I’ve done my duty.”
Adnon shook his head vehemently. “No, you are a criminal, just like me. Your government turned its back on you.”
“That changes nothing about your fate,” said Peter. “Not one bit.” He pulled out a machete and brandished it in front of the coward.
“Why do you want to kill me? I’ve done nothing to you. If anything, I helped rescue you from your own military.”
“Kojic told me you were driving the car.”
“Tell me one thing: what ever became of Kojic?”
“He was reunited with his wife.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“And Ehsan?”
“Dead, too.”
“See, it was wise that I fled.”
“Wise indeed,” said Peter sarcastically. “Do you realize that if Kafka had succeeded, you would’ve been surrounded by an entire world of flesh-eating zombies? Oh, that’s right. You’re infected. So either way, whether Kafka succeeded or not, you’d be okay.”
“I didn’t want him to succeed. That was why I ran off with Kojic and Ehsan. That was why I helped them rescue you.”
“Then why did you run?”
“I was afraid.”
“Not a true believer, ‘ey?”
Adnon looked down in shame.
Peter shook his head. “You’re such a coward that you figured if your friends didn’t succeed, you’d still be able to get back in Kafka’s good graces. Being a lieutenant in his army is better than being zombie meat.”
“I am very sorry that Kojic is dead.”
“Not Ehsan?”
“He was an asshole.”
Peter smiled wryly. “Now there’s something we can agree on.”
“Do you still hear the voice?”
“I chew anti-psychotics to drown it out.”
“Does it work?”
“Mostly.”
“So what now? You are going to try to kill me?”
“Who said anything about trying…but, yes. I’m afraid so, partner.”
Adnon nodded. “Then you will be joining your brother in hell.”
Peter’s expression soured, his last shred of good humor lost. He suddenly made a move for Adnon, but Adnon vanished. Gone. Poof.
Shit.
Everyone who was infected had their own bizarre talent, and no two were the same. Apparently, this was Adnon’s.
Peter heard a shuffling from inside the hut. He kicked the thatched door in and Adnon came at him with his own machete, fangs bared. Sparks flew as the blades collided over and over again. Both men moved with such speed that their arms were a blur amongst the sparks.
Adnon, having no serum to limit him, was a little faster. He nicked Peter on his arms a few times, drawing blood. Peter kicked him away. He raised his machete to slash at him but poof…Adnon was gone again.
Dozens of holographic ads flashed around the hut simultaneously, making the inside of the hut look like a disco. The diversion did its trick and bought Adnon the time he needed.
Peter heard a splash outside and the engine of a motorized canoe. By the time he was outside, Adnon was barreling down the river.
Elicia was on the riverbank running alongside the canoe in the river and keeping up. She leapt into the air and sailed over the water, unsheathing her machete, until she landed on the canoe.
Adnon sensed her presence and anticipated her move.
He turned and met her blade with his as they slashed away at each other, the metal blades sparking in the dawn. Elicia, unhindered by the serum, was faster than Peter, and she blocked every strike and countered with lightning speed.
Adnon knew it was an even match, so he disappeared, nearly sending Elicia over the side of the canoe with the shift in weight.
He reappeared on the bank of the river and turned to run when a machete swung out and lopped off his head. Peter slashed away at the rest of his body, dismembering him in the mangroves.
Elicia swung the canoe back around and ran aground on the bank where Peter was. He shoved the canoe back into the river and quickly jumped in. She started the motor and they headed back in the direction from which they came.
“So that’s it now,” Elicia said.
Peter nodded. “Yeah, he’s the last one.”
“Besides us, you mean.”
“Yeah, besides us.”
“He somehow figured out how to create ghouls. They were watered down versions of your brother’s zombies though.”
“Yeah, well, the only living copies of the virus now reside in us.”
Elicia looked out at the sun rising over the horizon. “So what do we do now?”
“I don’t know, but we have generations to figure it out. I was thinking of Italy.”
“Italy?”
“Yeah, you ever been?”
She shook her head.
“When I was there last, I saw this beautiful sprawling countryside in Tuscany. I could get lost there for a decade or so. Care to join me?”
“Seeing as how I can’t go back home, I don’t see why not.” But she was okay with that. For the first time in her life, she was free to roam the great big world. There was nothing for her in Texas.
“How are we going to live?”
“I suppose we could do odd jobs here and there. I hear the locals have a real problem with the local bosses. Maybe we can help out, make our own way.”
“What, like mercenaries?” she asked.
“We make a good team, Elicia—an ex-soldier with preternatural abilities and a world renowned computer hacker who also happens to have extra-terrestrial blood running through her veins. They won’t stand a chance.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, we can kick some serious ass, help some people…”
Elicia laughed. “Like a couple of superheroes fighting injustice wherever they’re needed.”
Peter shook his head. “No, just a couple of responsible misfit freaks trying to make their way in the world.”
Back at the bar, the mortal bartender was cleaning up the remains of the slaughtered ghouls on his tile floor with a mop. This was the first time that floor had been cleaned…
…well, since the last slaughter. But the last time the ghouls won.
The door opened, casting a pillar of bright sun into the bar, and two men walked in. After the door closed and his eyes adjusted, the bartender saw that the two men were Asian. Great, more outsiders.
“We’re closed. Come back tonight.”
One of the men flipped open a mini-tablet and pressed a button. When he spoke, the mini-tablet translated his speech.
“We are looking for two individuals, a man in his twenties and a teenage girl. We were told to come here.”
“They were here,” said the bartender putting down his mop. “They tore up my bar real good.”
The two Asian men looked around at the body parts strewn all over the floor. “Then perhaps you can tell us where they went.”
“Sure. They went upriver looking for someone. What’s this all about?”
“These two individuals owe us a great deal of money that we paid for a certain service that wasn’t delivered.”
The bartender chortled. “Good. I hope you find them.”
Mr.Joeng opened the door, spilling light back into the bar. Before stepping out, Mr. Kao said, “Don’t worry. We will.”
***
São Paulo, Brazil
A young woman sat in a waiting room of Prognosticorp on the nineteenth floor overlooking the city down below. The Prognosticorp Tower was awash in a sea of skyscrapers tightly packed together, the spread of the city looking like it lacked any coherent layout. But that was São Paulo.
“They are ready for you now,” said the secretary who walked over from her desk. “Would you like to bring your espresso inside?”
“No, thank you.” She made to pick up the small cup and saucer, but the secretary gestured for her not to.
“I’ll take care of that. They’re waiting.”
The young woman stood up and walked past the desk and into a boardroom with another spectacular view, not unlike that in the waiting room. There were four men seated around the table. They all stood when she walked in.
“Please, have a seat,” said a man in a ten thousand dollar pin stripe suit. She had never met him before. He must have been important.
She took her seat at the head of the conference table opposite them. She recognized two of the men. One was the project manager, Mr. Antunes, who she originally contacted. The other was the programmer, Mr. Valmor.
“My name is Mr. Silva,” said the man in the ten thousand dollar suit. “I am the Vice President of Research and Development.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said.
Mr. Silva continued, never introducing the fourth man who just sat their quietly. He must’ve been someone really important. “Our team has had a chance to review the code you’ve provided us with…”
“I have to say,” interjected Mr. Antunes, “We’ve never seen anything like it. It’s very comprehensive. The language is the most extensive we’ve ever seen. It’s like a genome.”
“Where did you say you obtained the code?” asked Mr. Silva.
“I didn’t.”
“Why have you given this to us?” asked Mr. Silva.
“Because I don’t have the resources to develop this further on my own.”
“May I be frank?”
“Yes.”
“I really don’t see how you’ve developed it at all. In fact, this smacks of stolen technology.”
“Mr. Silva, I assure you that this technology is not stolen. It was developed to a point by my team, but we ran out of funding. We are another casualty of this Rollercoaster Recession.”
“What was the name of your group? We aren’t aware of any new AI developers.”
“Our group was part of a larger company that didn’t specialize in Artificial Intelligence, which is why the project was mismanaged. They were forced to make cuts, so R&D took a beating.”
“You still haven’t said who the company was,” pushed Mr. Silva.
“They’d prefer I didn’t. They had me sign a gag order.”
“So you expect me to believe that this mystery company, who made you sign a gag order, just let you waltz out the front door with this marvel in Artificial Intelligence technology?”
“They didn’t know what to do with it and they didn’t appreciate the progress we’d made. I purchased it with whatever funds I could scrape together.”
“So you have investors?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“On the contrary,” insisted Mr. Silva, “it is entirely my concern. I’d like to know who I’m getting into bed with, particularly when the project seems too good to be true.”
The young woman smiled humorlessly. “Mr. Silva, I’ve come to you with the most advanced AI system ever developed, far ahead of anything out there currently. I am offering you a healthy cut for waltzing in at the end, and you are hesitant? If the terms of my offer are unacceptable to you, I can certainly take this to your competitors.”
“Wait just a minute,” said Mr. Silva, squirming in his seat. “Let’s not react in haste. My superiors are merely concerned about being beholden to a group of mystery investors.”
“Don’t worry about them. Their payment comes out of my end.”
“We will have that in writing, of course.�
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“Of course, Mr. Silva.”
“This code,” said Mr. Antunes, “will take us decades, maybe even a couple of generations to understand. With all due respect, ma’am, this is not as near to completion as you would have us believe.”
“The programming is self-adapting,” said the young woman. “It aids in its own development as you progress.”
“That’s why I said it was like a genome,” said Mr. Antunes. “It’s like it is life itself, in digital form. Self-adapting, autonomous. This is what AI is supposed to be like in theory, but no one has ever come this close before.”
“This will be a long-term investment,” agreed Mr. Silva. “Which makes me wonder what you stand to gain out of this? You’re not asking for anything up front. If this ever came to fruition, your children would stand to gain from it. Maybe even your grandchildren.”
“Who gains from it on my end is not your concern. That is my affair. The question is: Is Prognosticorp too short-sighted to invest its resources in the next revolution in technology?”
Mr. Silva chortled at the question. “We are called ‘Prognosticorp’ for a reason. We have many projects in development that won’t see the light of day for decades.”
“So we have an agreement?”
“Ms. Yvette, our attorneys will have a contract drafted and sent to you by the end of the day.”
Yvette stood up. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”
She turned and left the conference room.
As she entered the elevator, she was overcome with a melancholic excitement. She did as her beloved Kafka asked. She stayed away despite the fact that she yearned for him, his touch, every minute of every day.
She understood, however, the importance of her keeping her distance. She understood that one day, if he failed, she would receive a massive download of his digital genome, a redundant copy of himself.
When that day came, she wept until there was no more hydration left in her body and was exhausted from racking her body with sobbing. She allowed herself a brief time to grieve, but her beloved wasn’t really dead…
… just dormant.
She had a job to do, and it would take time…generations. But thanks to his gift that he gave her when they made love on the floor of the sacristy in Italy, she had nothing but time. Her spirit was strong, which was why she came back more as a vampire than a mindless zombie or ghoul after her impalement in Italy.
I am Automaton 3: Shadow of the Automaton Page 35