by J. C. Staudt
“I managed to scrounge up an old mouse model, whereupon I replaced its internal intelligence with a remote system. In tandem with this system, I engaged this medallion reflex module of yours. The mouse’s behavioral patterns were… quite alarming.”
“For instance?” I asked.
“It… made decisions. Decisions that were not part of its assigned group of behaviors. It seemed almost to think…”
“First of all, you have too much free time on your hands,” I said. “What are they paying you for? And second, you’re telling me that a drone the size of a mouse was your ideal host for testing the medallion?”
“To answer your first question… I was so intrigued by this device that I performed the tests on my own time. I spent many evenings poring over old research notes and creating the ideal environments in which to conduct my experiments. As for the mouse being an ideal host… there was no doubt in my mind that it was. At first.
“It stood to reason that if your reflex module could deviate from a simple set of commands, then perhaps it would have an even more profound effect on a more complicated intelligence model. That is why I moved on to larger hosts, including a number of projects which I need not—and cannot—go into detail about. Finally, I considered the possibility of implanting the device into one of Angus’s automatons. However, after my most recent phase of tests, I feel that this would be a feat too dangerous to attempt.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping to do earlier today, except Angus made me wait around all afternoon for you to get here. Now it sounds like we’ve been waiting for nothing. We could’ve been running one of the robots with this thing in it since lunchtime.”
“That is precisely why I’m so glad I arrived when I did,” said Dr. Gottlieb. “Under no circumstances do I recommend trying this.”
“What is it you’re so worried about?” I said. “What are you not telling us?”
The doctor scratched his temple and cleared his throat. “It may sound overly sensational for me to say things like ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before,’ but that couldn’t be more true. The device bears no distinguishing marks, no manufacturing insignia, and no builder’s initialing. I have reason to believe that in all of Esperon, this reflex module is the only one of its kind. What I haven’t told you yet is only a theory. One I’ve come to believe only after extensive research in a variety of hosts. This might sound a little crazy. But I get the strong sense that there is a… personality… trapped inside it.”
I threw my head back and laughed, long and loud. “There’s a person in here… did I hear you right?”
“Not a person, so much as the essence of one. A carefully preserved copy of what used to be a living being. The longer each of my test subjects was exposed to this device, the more I began to notice similar behaviors. Mechanical as they may have been, my subjects had each been programmed with a very specific set of instructions.
“The medallion, as you call it, bent the mouse to its will within minutes. A larger robotic device with a more advanced intelligence took the medallion several hours to dominate. And the third, still larger and more complex, was still not entirely under the medallion’s grip after several days of exposure. So you see, the simpler the instructions, the easier it seems to be for the mind in the device to take over.”
“Sounds to me like one of them… phylactery things,” said Ezra.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“They say there’s some folks can put their souls in a little doohickey for safekeeping. Case anything bad happens to ‘em.”
“Like wizards, you mean? What are we, living in some kind of fairy tale?” Even as I said it, I was thinking of Nerimund and the way he had made all those wooden objects come to life. If that wasn’t magic, it was the closest thing I’d ever seen. Maybe the closest thing in existence.
“I do not believe this device has anything to do with wizards or any fictitious individuals of that sort, Mr. Brunswick,” said Dr. Gottlieb. “Although the phylactery is an apt comparison. I would go so far as to say that this medallion may have been an attempt to recreate and store the identity of a person in mechanical form.”
“This is so creepy,” I said. “Who is it?”
“That, I could not say.”
When I picked up the medallion, my skin crawled. It was weird to think I might’ve been wearing somebody else all this time, and that those strange sensations I’d been feeling were that person’s will attempting to overthrow mine. That didn’t explain the disembodied visions I’d seen the day Obernale collided with the Kalican Heights, but I kept that thought to myself. “You realize this only makes me want to take it apart that much more,” I said.
“Again, I would advise against that,” said the doctor. “I almost took it apart myself, you see. But when I lifted the inside cover, I saw something which convinced me never to go any further.”
“What was that?”
“The pieces, Mr. Nordstrom. The innumerable pieces. A veritable plethora of miniature moving parts, some too small even to see with the naked eye. I had the sudden feeling that one mistake, one misplaced movement, might send the entirety of the device into collapse, like some carefully constructed tower whose base is kicked out from under it.”
“I’ve taken this thing through all kinds of bluster and havoc,” I said. “It’s about the most durable thing I’ve ever worn on the outside.”
“While it’s closed, perhaps,” said the doctor. “Keep it that way, Mr. Nordstrom, or you’re liable to destroy it forever.”
“Now do you see why it’d be so dangerous to open that thing up?” Angus said, taking the opportunity to inject a well-timed ‘I told you so’ moment.
“What I see is a good place to start,” I said, taking the medallion in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. “Thanks for the tip, doc. I gotta get a load of this for myself.”
“Looks like we’re back to square one,” said Angus, resting his chin on a fist. He watched me like a cat watching a bird in the uppermost branches of a tree, as if helpless to stop me from flying away with his dinner.
I looked up at him. “You think I’m some ham-handed amateur, don’t you? You think I’m gonna crack this open and drop it on the floor, like I don’t know it’s worth more than everything else in this room.”
“Do what you want,” Angus said. “That seems to be what you’re best at.”
I ignored him and kept working. I’ve never been so delusional as to think I’m easy to get along with. But every now and then, people like Angus come along—people who make you feel like a slug in a saltshaker—and you start to wonder if you’re really the unpleasant one. Those people don’t usually start off on my good side.
Now that I was finding out how strong-willed Angus was, I could see where Sable got it from. That Brunswick bullheadedness ran through the family like a vein of driftmetal through a floater; it was a force beneath the surface, responsible for holding up the very foundations of who they were as people. It was a good quality to have in a family of ship’s captains. On a team of inventors, it was just getting in the way.
And yet, a team we were. A father and son who couldn’t agree; a former adviser to a great house who was as subtle and subversive as they came; and me. Who was I but a condemned criminal, buying time to escape the Regency’s shackles, trapped in a purgatory of my own making?
“Someone bring me some light,” I said, my first attempt at a team-building exercise.
Thomas dragged an old oil lantern off the shelf and lit it with a match, turning up the flame before he brought it in close. Light shone through the pale green gemstones on the medallion’s front. When I removed the outer cover, its tender insides glittered like a thousand flecks of jaded gold, a miniaturized metalworks so elaborate it took my breath away.
The pieces inside were moving. Gears and tines and springs were whirring and clicking and spinning across an ever-changing landscape. I was so surprised I almost dropped the thing, but I managed to get my fumbl
ing fingers around it and hold on, trying desperately not to prove Angus right.
When I was satisfied I wasn’t going to let go, I grabbed a magnifying lens and held it up for a closer look. The parts were the tiniest things I’d ever seen. It was just as the doctor had said: so magnificent, it was beyond words. Getting a glimpse of the miniature wonderland inside had been worth the risk of opening it up.
“This is incredible,” I said. “I never imagined anything like this could exist. And here it’s been, hanging around my neck.”
Now the gears in my head were turning. I was starting to wonder about the vast amounts of information that must be tucked away within those tiny crevices; all the worlds of experience there, ripe for the unlocking. If the medallion held any influence over me, I told myself, it was only the ability to pique my curiosity.
“Where does it get its power from, I wonder?” Thomas said.
“That is another mystery I haven’t uncovered,” said Dr. Gottlieb. “How it stays on, even when there does not seem to be a power source connected to it.”
“It’s absolutely wonderful,” I said. “I’m going to put it back together.” I hurried, sliding the cover into place and assembling each outer part thereafter. When it was whole again, I stood up and addressed my companions.
“This thing is headed to one of two places,” I said. “Back on my chest where it belongs, or into one of the doctor’s remote control devices to give some lucky automaton a wake-up call. Angus, you’re in charge. Take your pick.”
“I’ve decided we’re not using that thing,” said Angus. “It’s too dangerous. I’m not going to risk the whole project on something we know so little about. We’ll have to find another way to improve the logic drive.”
“There is no other way,” I said. “You don’t have to risk anything valuable. Risk me. Put me in a cage with the prototype and let me have it out with the thing. Then, if something goes wrong, my neck’s the only thing on the line. You must have some sort of override built into them anyway, don’t you? Some way to shut them down if you need to?”
“I’m not in the habit of playing with fire,” Angus said. “But okay, sure, if that’s what you want. I’ll have the testing floor set up so you can give it a shot.”
“Looks like the doctor thinks that’d be a bad idea,” said Ezra, pointing at him.
Gottlieb was shaking his head, a solemn look on his face. “Do not do this,” he said.
“The doctor isn’t in charge of this project,” said Angus. “I think we ought to give Mr. Nordstrom a chance to play around with this medallion of his.”
“I’m glad we finally agree on something.”
“It’s settled, then. I’ll see that it’s done, and in a few days we’ll have our testing environment all ready to go. In the interim, I think it’s getting to be around dinnertime.”
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Now that he mentioned it, I was kind of starving. The doctor gave us a final warning before he said his farewells, making sure to let us know he didn’t mind making himself available at a moment’s notice if we needed him. When he was gone, I pulled up my shirt and lifted the medallion to my chest.
“What are you doing?” said Angus.
“I told you this was going in one of two places, didn’t I? I’m not about to leave my most valuable possession in the world sitting around on the table while it waits to get shoved into some robot’s butt.”
“That’s not yours anymore,” Angus said, heat flashing in his eyes. “All your augments are now the property of Maclin Automation.”
“Oh please,” I said. “There’s nothing I walked into this place owning that I don’t still own.”
“That changed as soon as you caused the corporation millions of chips in damages,” he said.
“You know what, Angus? For a guy who they supposedly locked up against his will, you sure do seem to like this place. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve heard you utter a single negative thing about your alleged captors or the conditions they’ve got you working under. Why don’t you explain to me why that is, and why you don’t seem to give a rip about getting your niece out of jail?”
“I told you, I did what I had to do.”
“What you had to do… or what you wanted to do? Why are you really here, Angus?”
He brushed his beard, then looked at his father. “Okay. They didn’t make me come. They didn’t abduct me. I didn’t wind up here because we lost a Maclin shipment. I made that whole thing up.”
“That much I’ve figured out,” I said. “Go on.”
“Maclin recruited me last year. They tracked me down and made a very convincing offer. An offer good enough to make me leave my ship and my crew. The conditions were simple: until the Galvos Project was completed, its existence would remain of the utmost secrecy—which it had, until you and your friends showed up; and I couldn’t leave here or have external communications of any kind. At first, I declined. Then that storm hit us. The Galeskimmer was in bad shape after that storm, and I knew this was my best chance at helping us get back on our feet, even if the only thing I could tell my crew at the time was where I was going.”
“What about your ransom of three-hundred and fifty-thousand chips?” I said. “Where did that come from?”
Angus shrugged. “I pulled a number out of thin air. A number too high for them to earn before I finished the project, but low enough to seem attainable in case they decided to try. I never counted on them running into a rich asshole like you who has that kind of money to throw around.”
Angus didn’t know, of course, that the money I had brought for his supposed ransom belonged to his crew. But I couldn’t exactly explain that without divulging my criminal activities. “This still doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why make up a story? Why couldn’t you just tell them the truth?”
“I did tell someone the truth. I told Mr. Scofield. He knew I was going to Maclin voluntarily. I told him about the fake ransom, and that I couldn’t share the true reason for my leave of absence. I wanted him to know in case anything went wrong, or in case someone on the crew got some crazy idea about storming this place and trying to rescue me, so he could put a stop to it before it got out of hand.”
“Well in that case, you can thank your lucky stars your crew is in prison, and not out there getting themselves into trouble,” I said. “Scofield is dead.”
Angus’s face dimmed. “Landon is dead?”
“He died while we were… never mind. He died in the pursuit of a good cause. Or what I thought was a good cause at the time. I have to say, though—he sure kept that secret of yours locked up tight.”
“That’s why he’s the one I told. I knew I could trust him. Poor Landon.” A grimace passed over Angus’s face again, and he had to sit down. “Knowing I’d be able to explain everything to my crew after it was all over made the temporary lies worth it.”
“You’re still not done. So you staged the whole thing, lied to your crew, and left them so you could come here and help Maclin build some robots. Why?”
Angus gave me a cold, hard stare. “Because the world’s at stake.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Anything that involves saving the world is not my cup of jungle juice.”
“We’re not saving the world, Hal. We’re taking it over.”
“What? No… no, no no…” I said ‘no’ about fifty more times before Angus interrupted me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “Maclin stole my idea… before I even had it!”
“What are you talking about?”
I looked over at Thomas and Ezra, who seemed intent on pretending I hadn’t shared my plan with them the day we got here. “A coup to overthrow the Regency. That was my first thought, from the instant I saw your robots on the assembly line. That’s why I wanted to buy them so badly.”
Angus laughed. “You want to unseat the Regent and rule the world?”
“Not in a million years do I want to
rule the world,” I said. “That’s too much work. Unseating the Regent, though… that sounds like a good time to me.”
“Oh, really. I never would’ve pegged you for a dissenter,” Angus said, wrinkling his mouth in surprise.
“Please. Me? Who in their right mind actually likes the Regency?”
“Rich guys like you.”
“Look, I want the same things you want, Angus. I want a good life for my family and friends, and I want the Regency to stay out of it.”
“Sounds about right. You must have a big bone to pick if you want them gone that bad.”
“A few years ago, the Regency took my dad’s shop and all his land. That was the only convincing I needed that things have to change. They took everything he’d been building toward his entire life, just because they could. Yet even now, he’s out there bowing and scraping to them because he thinks he has no other choice.”
“So you want to knock down the building—you just don’t want to clean up the pieces.”
“Well, Angus,” I said, “it looks like I don’t have to worry about the pieces. Maclin’s got the cleaning-up part taken care of. Just let me be involved in the knocking-down part—that’s all I ask. Maclin is the only entity in the world that’s so large and powerful the Regency won’t mess with it, and I have a mind not to get messed with anymore.”
“That’s not my decision,” Angus said.
“Make it your decision. It’s the big evil government who rules the world versus the big evil corporation who wants to. We all have to take sides. I’m choosing mine right now. Let me help.”
I heard the sound of heavy footsteps drawing near before the room’s door opened. A squad of automatons marched inside, ready to escort us to dinner. We all got our things together and formed a line between them. During the commotion, I turned away from the others and set the medallion against my chest.
Its tendrils punctured the hard, calloused skin and entrenched themselves in my flesh once more. It hurt. But as the soothing rush of its energies began to surge through me again, the pain turned to a pleasure that made the hairs stand up and my skin tingle, like settling into a hot bath. My old friend, I thought. We’re back together again, where everything’s right.