Artificial Evolution

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “So are we,” he said, plopping Squee on the table and refilling the bowl. “Mrs. Daniels, specifically.”

  “Oh… I don’t know why, I was expecting someone older.” He looked warily at the sweat-drenched pair. “And more discreet.”

  “Discretion is overrated,” Lex said.

  “I suppose I can’t be picky about my contacts after what happened last time. I thought for sure I’d have been considered compromised.”

  “I think you are considered compromised. The person who sent me here isn’t what I’d call a friend. I don’t think he’d set me up face-to-face with someone deep on the inside.”

  “… That’s just great,” the “Mrs.” Daniels said irritably.

  “So what’s with the gender-swapped alias?”

  “I don’t ask you about your business, don’t ask me about mine. Let’s see the chip,” their contact said.

  “Right here.” Lex revealed the tiny data storage device. “Deeply encrypted.”

  “Naturally,” Daniels said. He pulled his case from the floor, slammed it down on the desk hard enough to startle Squee, and clicked it open. “Mine’s encrypted as well. I’ve got a technician on standby to verify your data. If it checks out, you’ll get the encryption key to liberate yours.”

  “What guarantee do we have that your data is trustworthy?”

  “No guarantees. My instructions were clear. Delivery only upon verification. If you don’t like that, I walk.”

  Lex glared at him, tugging his somewhat moist slidepad from his pocket. “Guess I’d better get my own tech on the line then, to verify your stuff.”

  He produced his own slidepad, thumbing his way to Ma’s contact. She answered immediately.

  “Hello, Lex. Based upon the timing of this message, I trust you have reached your destination.”

  “Yeah. I’m about to do the exchange. I want you to verify the data.”

  “Sensible.”

  Lex and Daniels began the exchange, each swapping a chip and downloading it to their respective devices. Once Daniels had his data, Lex provided the encryption code as well. Their contact accepted it and turned away to contact his technician regarding its authenticity.

  “Lex, have you been in contact with Garotte?” Ma asked.

  “No. We were in FTL, so we couldn’t communicate. And he’s in quarantine, so he couldn’t communicate either. Has he been able to speak to you somehow? How are things going with him?”

  “He has indeed communicated. He was not forthcoming regarding his means. He seemed rather insistent upon speaking to you directly. His last contact was eleven minutes ago. Shall I open a connection for you?”

  Lex looked to Daniels, who was quietly discussing the data with no sign of finishing up any time soon. “Yeah, I guess I’ve got some time.”

  A number of truncated notification sounds progressed in rapid-fire as Ma juggled her way through a complicated sequence of commands with a speed that only a computer could manage. Seconds ticked by, then finally he had a connection.

  “About bloody time!” Garotte said, uncharacteristically flustered. His voice was distant and muted. It must have been a badly degraded or overcompressed signal.

  Lex cranked the audio up as high as it would go in an attempt to hear over the thumping music and chattering crowd. “Sorry, I’ve been busy almost blowing myself up.”

  “As have we, my boy, as have we. Listen. Timing has become something of an issue.”

  “Say that again!” he bellowed.

  “I say timing is an issue! Egad, my boy, where are you right now? It is hardly the time for a jaunt to a nightclub.”

  “We’re meeting a guy about a thing. What’s up? Why the timing issue?”

  “In about six hours, the bombs start dropping.”

  Lex’s eyes shot open. “Whoa. Hold on. The connection’s not so good. Did you say six hours?”

  “I did.”

  “We’re more than six hours away! And we don’t even have a solution yet!”

  “I appreciate that. We’ve put into motion a few plans that should buy us some time, but Silo and a questionable ally are on the surface without a way to get past the blockade. They are doing their best to keep the robots under control, but it’s a losing battle. I can’t afford to remain in contact for much longer. Ma has my findings and Karter is working with them, but there are some things the two of you should know.”

  “Hang on.” He turned to Daniels. “Where are we in this little transaction?”

  “You’re verified. Sending you the decryption key now.”

  “Okay, Ma, once you’ve got the key, verify. And Garotte, you’re on speaker, so be coy about sensitive info.”

  “Yes, Lex, I’ve done this once or twice,” he said dryly. “Listen. Upon your return it is crucial that you keep the antenna down. We’ve determined that the pests we’ve been working to wipe out are rather sensitive to that sort of thing. Make any calls and you’ll get their attention. Is that clear?”

  “I think I’ve got it,” Lex said.

  As the discussion continued, all involved were a bit too busy to notice that the music had died down and the general boisterousness of the surrounding crowd had begun to drop off. Most pressing but also unnoticed was the large, bearded man near the bar who seemed to be taking an increasingly intense interest in the group.

  “We think we found the man in charge of the other pests we’ve been dealing with. Or at least someone high enough to make decisions for them,” Lex said.

  “Splendid, then progress made all around. Now, I shall be taking some steps that may complicate your return somewhat. Is it fair to say you hadn’t intended on taking the, shall we say, main roads?”

  “I forge my own path,” Lex said.

  “Have you found yourself a private room, suddenly? The commotion around you seems a bit thinner,” Garotte observed.

  “No. People just seem to have… uh…” Lex looked around to find that the music was entirely silent now, and half the bar was staring at them.

  The bearded bar-goer towered over Lex, fury in his eyes. He jabbed a finger toward the slidepad. “Who’s that you’re talking to? I know that voice!”

  “Uh… just a friend,” Lex said.

  “So that limey pile of puke is a friend of yours, huh?”

  “Half a tick. That’s a familiar voice… Whereabouts are you, exactly?” Garotte asked.

  The bearded man snatched the slidepad. “It’s Buck’s place at Diode Station 888. But for your friends it’s going to be their final resting place, courtesy of Leon and his crew.”

  “Oh hell. I thought I knew that voice,” Daniels said. “You work for that British lunatic.”

  “Garotte, what’s going on?” Lex asked, voice raised to be heard through the stolen slidepad.

  “I made something of a splash during a recent visit to that establishment. They are not overly fond of me there. I would recommend a strategic retreat.”

  The bearded man grabbed a handful of Lex’s shirt and hoisted him face-to-face. “It’s too late for that.”

  Squee’s head snapped up from her once-again empty water bowl as Lex was manhandled into the air. Her lips peeled back in a snarl, and she growled in what was no doubt intended to be a vicious display of threat behavior but ended up being more adorable than terrifying.

  “Hey now, listen!” Lex barked, summoning up as much intensity and authority as a sweaty, exhausted man dangling a few centimeters from the ground could muster. “I don’t care what went down here between you and Garotte, but I’ve got important work to do. Lives hang in the balance. I have to verify this data, and no one is doing anything until I know that what I was supposed to get is what I actually got.”

  There was a tone from the slidepad. “Data verified. We have all necessary materials to continue our investigation,” Ma announced over the connection.

  “Well okay, then,” Lex stated simply. He then reared back and attempted a kick to the bearded man’s groin.

  The thug wa
s clearly no stranger to that particular maneuver, as he skillfully shifted his leg to protect the intended target. Three henchmen swarmed Lex and held him while their leader let him go.

  “You there, Garotte, you limey son of a—” Leon began.

  “I do urge you to choose your words carefully, sir,” Garotte said over the connection. “I do not work with just anyone. If you’ll recall the trouble I caused, please be mindful that this fellow is more than capable of similar chaos, and with far less precision and gentility. Lives will be lost if you press him.”

  “You can’t bluff me. Lives are going to be lost all right, but it ain’t gonna be any of my crew. This guy isn’t in a position to do anything.”

  “Maybe not me,” Lex said, “but I don’t work alone.”

  “Nice try, but I’ve been keeping an eye on this place, and you’re the only guy I don’t know.” He delivered a punishing backhand to Lex’s face. “So who’s going to save you?”

  The answer came swiftly, as Squee sprang from the table to Lex’s shoulder in response to the blow to his face. In a flash she spun and raised her tail. Lex took a breath and shut his eyes. The rest of the crowd quickly wished they had. A spritz of intensely foul-smelling liquid doused the bearded aggressor, and the whole of the crowd recoiled in disgust, gagging and clawing at their eyes. Lex’s slidepad clattered to the floor. He and Squee had suddenly slipped to the bottom of the angry mob’s list of priorities in favor of fresh air. The pair took full advantage.

  Lex snagged his slidepad and threw an elbow into the attacker’s midsection for good measure. As the cloud of stench grew, the tide of people began to head for the nearest exits. For better or worse, the nearest exit wouldn’t do for Lex and Squee. They’d need to cross nearly the whole bar to reach the door leading to the docking bays. Squee, the only member of the group marginally immune to the initial spray, took the role of navigator. She dashed for the appropriate door, her retractable leash reeling out as she rushed along. In her haste, she wove it around legs and under feet, causing any people too slow to get out of her way to fall to the ground and serve as obstacles for any pursuers. At some point the bearded leader would recover enough to start barking orders, but for now the olfactory nightmare was calling the shots.

  When his lungful of air ran out and Lex was forced to take a breath, his face practically turned inside out. “Jeez!” He coughed. “Stench is an underrated self-defense mechanism.”

  As the epicenter of the stink bomb, Lex and Squee dragged a cloud of the spray with them on their route to the door, parting the crowd as they did. The bouncer had only just begun to comprehend the reason for the sudden rush of people pushing past him, but when he spotted Squee and Lex, he gritted his teeth and stepped into the doorway, impressively managing to bring the flow of fleeing patrons to a sudden halt.

  “You’re not going anywhere!” he barked.

  Lex and Squee skidded to a stop and surveyed the situation. The patrons were slowly returning to their senses and beginning to organize themselves. It wouldn’t be long before they decided to take bloody vengeance on the people responsible for the near-riot. Lex, realizing he had no weapons and wasn’t nearly combat-savvy enough to fight his way to freedom, played the only card he had. He grabbed Squee and brandished her, tail end first.

  “Make a hole or she lets loose again!” he bellowed.

  The crowd around him instantly scattered, but the bouncer was far more dedicated than Lex would have given him credit for. He held his ground and stared Lex down. The woman toting the basket of guns, however, was not quite so steadfast. After a second or two, she lost her nerve and dropped the basket, diving for the bar like a soldier fleeing a grenade.

  Lex glanced nervously behind him and spotted Leon approaching through his own stink-fueled gap in the crowd. He turned back to the bouncer. “I’ll do it!”

  “You think that scares me? Do your worst.”

  “Fine. Catch!”

  Lex tossed Squee at the bouncer. The acrobatic creature pivoted in air, bringing her stubby but sturdy claws to bear. A living projectile, it turned out, was not something bouncers were adequately trained to counter. The ballistic fur ball made contact, striking his face feetfirst and springing back off, leaving six neat claw marks on the man’s cheek. Lex took advantage of the latest distraction to charge at the man, lowering his shoulder as Squee soared back over his head. The bouncer noticed him just in time to have the wind knocked out of him. Lex had a head of steam up, and once the bouncer was off balance, all he could do was run backward, trying to get his footing. Squee landed squarely in the face of Leon, who had managed to force his way through the crowd. She scrambled gracelessly to avoid his clutching fingers, wrapping the leash around his neck in the process. The instant the brute got his hands on her, the leash ran out and the full momentum of Lex’s run tightened it around the man’s neck. He was pulled off his feet in a sprawling, coughing heap before the continued charge and Squee’s struggles yanked the leash and the funk from his head. Squee got to her feet and charged after Lex.

  The bouncer recovered and got a firm enough footing to bring himself and Lex to a halt barely two steps before he would have run out of walkway. Squee, now with a running start of her own, sprang from the ground to Lex’s back and scrambled along it like a ramp, propelling herself into the bouncer’s face and springing off again. It was just enough to startle the burly man and send him off the edge, but in his flailing, he managed to snag Lex. Both men went twirling slowly into the weightlessness of the central shaft of the space station.

  Lex and the bouncer were still tangled up, but it quickly became clear that despite his employment in a place with unreliable gravity, the enforcer was not accustomed to coping with weightlessness. He wheeled and flailed about as though plummeting to his doom, quite oblivious to the fact that he was drifting very slowly and was at risk of, at best, a few boring minutes of waiting to be rescued. Lex pulled himself free and gave the guy a good, hard shove with his feet, sending the thug spiraling in one direction and Lex darting in the other. Unfortunately the impromptu demonstration of Newton’s laws wasn’t quite perfect, and Lex found himself on a course almost parallel to the walkways.

  He worked his arms and legs to try to orient himself. Something kept twisting and torqueing him whenever he was nearly facing the way he wanted to. Finally he realized what it was.

  “The leash!”

  The thin strap of the retractable leash had been slowly feeding out, with Squee standing safely on the catwalk and watching him curiously as he drifted along. He pulled the leash from where it had been securely clipped to his belt.

  “Squee, grappling hook time!” he cried.

  A look of utter ecstasy seized Squee, and she sprinted for the nearest thing she could easily anchor herself to. Lex pressed the button as soon as he saw her latch on to something in the dim interior of the bar, and with a whine of its spring-loaded reel, it began accelerating toward her, Lex attached. Rather than turn himself into a cannonball, he feathered the button, reeling in the five or so meters at a safe speed. As he moved forward, he watched anxiously through the doorway. The more overtly hostile members of the crowd were nearly recovered, and Leon was barking orders and jabbing his finger toward something. He followed the gesture and realized the bearded menace was pointing at Squee, or more specifically, the thing she’d chosen to clamp on to…

  “The guns!” he yelped.

  Sure enough, Squee had hooked herself over the edge of the heavy basket of guns, and each little tug of the leash had slid her and it just a hair closer to the catwalk. Already three men were rushing to her. Lex wasn’t sure if they were after the funk or the guns, but he wasn’t terribly interested in letting them get at either.

  “Hold real tight, Squee,” he called out.

  He watched her rustle her tail and clamp down even harder. Wrapping the leash good and tight around his hand, he gave a sharp and sudden tug. Squee and her basket slid out the door and toward the outer edge of the catwalk. Th
e yank pulled him quickly toward the door of the bar. A fraction of a second before the thugs reached the basket, he landed feetfirst, tucked Squee under an arm, and grabbed the edge of the basket. He then pushed hard off the walkway and sprang back into the weightless expanse, dumping the guns into a galaxy of drifting firearms along the way. They spiraled majestically around him as he sailed away from the bar, grinning at the angry patrons spouting profanities from out of reach.

  His momentum was still taking him roughly away from the bar’s walkway, albeit without taking him anywhere near either of the other walkways. Fortunately for him, the concept of both one’s targets and one’s weapons floating just out of reach in a zero-gravity shaft was one that very few violent bar-goers were intellectually equipped to grapple with, so for a moment most could only manage to be angrily dumbfounded. He didn’t want to trust their confoundedness to last long, so he put his mind to the task of somehow guiding himself toward one of the far catwalks. It would only take a little nudge.

  Desperately patting his pockets as the seconds ticked by, he realized he had one water bottle left. Calling upon every last ounce of physics intuition he had, he hurled the bottle… and immediately began pitching end over end. From what he could see during each revolution, though, he was now drifting into the space above one of the gravity-plate-lined catwalks across from the bar entrance, and already he could feel it tugging him down.

  #

  The red-eyed and stench-soaked leader of the group shouldered his way to the front of the crowd.

  “Don’t just stand there! Get him!” he growled, pointing a finger at Lex.

  His crew, as much out of an eagerness to get away from their smelly leader as out of a sense of duty, rushed down the catwalk toward the nearest crosswalk that would bring them toward Lex’s destination. A handful of the less motivated patrons remained at the door of the bar. Leon decided they should be put to work.

  “You, you, and you. They’re going to head for the docking bays. Go cut them off!” he barked, selecting the best of his remaining crew. “Somebody find out which bay they’re moored in and take that damn ship apart! And you idiots! Get some of these guns! One way or another, somebody’s gonna die before this is over.”