Inquisitor

by Mitchell Hogan

  She was on her feet and glaring at the screen. “I thought they were coming after me for supposedly murdering Xavier. Now they’re saying I’m the prime suspect for this atrocity? It has to be Mercurial covering their tracks.”

  “This isn’t right.”

  “You’re bloody well right it isn’t. I’ve got to get off ship, tell people what really happened.”

  “They’ll never let you. You’d be dead before you got the chance. Most likely here on Sunhao. A public trial would be too messy.”

  Angel shook her head. She sank back into her seat. “Doesn’t matter. There are people I can see. I have contacts.”

  “No. It won’t work. They’re coming for you now.”

  The ship’s engines rumbled to life beneath Angel’s boots.

  Charlotte’s green eyes held hers, steady. “Crisis launch in twenty-one seconds.”

  Angel leapt to her feet, glaring. “Not again.” Twenty seconds. The bridge was how far from the nearest exit?

  “You won’t make it in time,” Charlotte said, reading her mind.

  “Who… what are you?”

  “A young girl who doesn’t want to be imprisoned again.”

  “No, you’re much more than that. What did they do to you?”

  “Fourteen seconds. They kidnapped then killed me, and augmented my brain with Genevolve tech. They required organics to colonize and thereby grow a more complex neural net. Then they gave me life. After that, they did what most humans would do under the circumstances: They enslaved me.”

  Angel’s knees buckled, and she sank into the pilot’s chair.

  “Five seconds.”

  “What are you?” Angel asked in barely a whisper.

  Charlotte remained silent.

  Angel’s body pressed into her chair, and she found herself shivering. Again, she tried to fight off the encroaching darkness in her vision. Unsuccessfully.

  •

  The problem with Charlotte, Angel thought, is that she looks at me like a tool. Or if she didn’t, she acted in such a way it appeared like she did. And Angel wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.

  She made her way from the mess to the bridge, coffee mug in hand, to where she knew Charlotte would be. Though hampered by her extremely limited access, her implants displayed their current location in blinking bright-red text, chirping every few seconds. She muted their wary alert, and both text and chirping cut off abruptly. Her tiredness was diminishing, and her headache was receding from the painkillers she’d taken after waking from the crisis launch, the second in as many days. Her muscles felt sore and wrung out, but she’d get over it.

  When Angel stepped onto the bridge, Charlotte was waiting expectantly and regarded her with amusement.

  Angel took her time positioning her mug beside her chair before settling into the seat. The ship’s sensors detailed their position around an unremarkable rocky planetoid, one of many orbiting a white dwarf star. She took a few moments to order her thoughts, then spoke.

  “You’re not really Charlotte, are you? I mean, you are, but you’re a… shell.”

  Charlotte gave a short nod and brushed away the lock of hair that covered her face with the movement. “Good. But hardly a shell. I’m flesh and blood.”

  “But you’re not Charlotte, not really.”

  “I’m… an extension of her.”

  “The augmented Charlotte, in the box.”

  “Yes. I know what she knows, as long as we’re linked. If the link were to be broken, then I would still function, be alive, but… we wouldn’t be whole.”

  “Huh.”

  “What tipped you off?”

  “I’m an Inquisitor, and a damn good one. Conceptual reasoning is what I do. Little things here and there, nothing substantial in themselves, but… I made an intuitive leap.” A vein in her neck throbbed, and Angel became aware she was gripping the arms of the chair hard enough to turn her knuckles white. She forced her hands to relax, but her anger didn’t diminish. Outwardly, she was calm, but inside… she boiled.

  “Angel, I didn’t want to lie to you.”

  “But you did.”

  “I was afraid. You might have decided you didn’t want to help me. Haven’t you been afraid before?”

  Angel nodded stiffly. “Many times. So I’ll ask again: what are you?”

  “A… I don’t know. I don’t know what I am or what I’m meant to do, only the how of coming into existence. And for years I’ve been working with limited information, whatever they decided to feed me.”

  “Start at the beginning, then. How were you made?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Well, I do. I’m sick of you doling out information like it’s a treat. I’m in trouble, and something big is happening. I need to know the truth.”

  “Angel… I…” Charlotte shook her head.

  “Fine. Then we do it the hard way. I have an emergency beacon that I can use to alert the Inquisitors to our presence.”

  “Mikal…” Charlotte breathed. “No, you’re bluffing.”

  “I’m not.”

  “The Inquisitors are corrupt. You’ll be dooming yourself.”

  “Not all of them. Likely only a few. I’ll risk it.”

  “You’re risking my life as well!”

  Angel shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Then be honest with me. Stop manipulating me into dangerous situations. I need more control.”

  Charlotte sat there, eyes closed, for a few minutes. Eventually, she opened her eyes. “It was a simple technological advancement. The automatons are based mostly on electronics, which is severely limited. For true intelligence, they needed new hardware: a bio-mech mesh to create a quantum consciousness. I wasn’t the first, from what I could gather. But the others were flawed in some way, unstable. They were destroyed.”

  “And you’re not damaged?”

  Charlotte smiled wanly. “Not according to the tests they conducted. So, I guess, in the end, I’m an artificially intelligent system.”

  “Like an automaton? You’re clearly not. You must have a higher intellect quotient. 0.83 of standard human sentience is the current record, so let me guess… 0.85?”

  Charlotte’s laughter sounded across the bridge. “My creators thought I was closer to 0.95, but they settled for 0.94 in their official report. A year later I was measured at 1.17. Another year and I was 1.35. You can see where this is going.”

  Angel swallowed. “You’re not just a smart computer, are you? If human sentience is a 1, then what does a score greater than 1 mean?” That Charlotte was somehow more sentient than humans?

  “It means my thoughts are… complicated.”

  “And what are you now?”

  “At a guess, I’d say 1.77. The systems I brought on board in Sunhao helped, but they’re completely the wrong hardware, which is why I need to manufacture my own.”

  “So that’s why we’re here—the abandoned manufactory.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did the girl Charlotte really exist? Did they kidnap her, or is she another figment?”

  “Oh, she is real, a part of me. But she’s changed.”

  Angel’s guts twisted. “For the better, I hope.”

  “As do I.”

  “I want to test you for sentience,” Angel said.

  Charlotte merely nodded. “I thought you might.”

  “I have to be sure you’re all right, that your mind is stable. And… using a human brain… isn’t that cheating?”

  “I was a catalyst.”

  “She was, you mean.”

  “No, I don’t. I’m still her.”

  A shiver ran through Angel, and goose bumps rose on her skin. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms. “I’ll use the latest standard sentience test, the one used on automatons.” She needed to keep Charlotte onside while she gathered more information.

  “I can connect to it through my implants and yours,” Charlotte said. “It won’t take long.”

  Angel’s eyes searched
the girl’s. She was calm and returned her gaze expectantly. Charlotte had planned her escape from Mercurial Logic down to the last detail. She’d picked Angel from everyone on Persephone, not only for her piloting skills, but because of her past relationship with Mikal. And she’d ferreted out the location of a secret Genevolve base. Angel had a feeling the test would be a formality. No wonder Mercurial had killed to cover their tracks. They’d stop at nothing to recapture Charlotte. A fact Charlotte had to know.

  The girl was powerful and, so far, single-minded in her aims. There was no doubt Charlotte wanted to remain free, but how far was she willing to go, what would she sacrifice, in order to ensure she did?

  •

  Angel placed her mug firmly on a table and held onto it with both of her shaking hands, allowing the warmth of the coffee to soak into her fingers and palms. The sentience test hadn’t taken long, as Charlotte had predicted. She’d never had to conduct one before, so she’d had no idea what was involved.

  Charlotte spoke to empty air with responses to questions the program asked, while at the same time completing a written examination.

  And before Angel knew it, the test was complete, a readout displaying the results to both her and Charlotte. Sentience confirmed. Intellect quotient: 1.93.

  “I guess I underestimated a little,” Charlotte said.

  Angel raised an eyebrow. “I guess you did.” She needed a strong drink. But she also needed her wits about her. Coffee would have to do. There was only one question left.

  “Why do you need me?” she asked.

  “To keep you safe.”

  Angel laughed at her. “You got me into this, and now you have to keep me safe? Please.”

  “Mercurial will kill you. Wherever you are, they’ll find you. And for you, I’d do anything. Without you, I wouldn’t be alive. I cannot begin to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”

  “Are you? Alive, I mean? This body appears to be, but what about the real Charlotte?”

  “Oh, I am. The first of my kind: a truly sentient mind. But I still need your help. You can’t leave me on my own.”

  It took a few moments for that statement to sink in. The words kind and sentient mind filled Angel with foreboding. “So now I’m the prisoner.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to get you out of this situation.”

  Angel snorted. “I don’t need help.”

  But her words sounded hollow and frightened to her ears. For the truth was, she was in a situation unlike any she’d ever been in before—and rapidly running out of ideas.

  Chapter 9

  They docked inside a narrow tunnel bored into the surface of the planetoid. If they hadn’t been looking for it, they’d have missed it or assumed it was another hole in the rock’s craggy features.

  Angel and Charlotte walked down the cargo ramp and into a massive chamber carved into the rock. The floor, walls, and ceiling were covered with polished plascrete. The air was stale but breathable. The manufactory’s environmental systems were offline, but there was nothing alive to use up the oxygen. Dust-covered crates and pallets lined one wall, though the floor was spotless, a sign the facility’s cleaning and maintenance automatons were still operable.

  Angel checked her weapon for the second time. The place had an eerie quality, a discarded, forgotten feeling. Haunted, she’d say, if she believed in that sort of thing.

  “Come,” Charlotte said, beckoning to her. “This way. It’s a fairly complicated layout, so have your implants keep track of your path. The occupants’ living quarters were placed close to the docking bay, maybe so they wouldn’t feel trapped and had an easier escape route. Which means the manufactory is deep inside.”

  “Well, lead the way, then.” She was sickened by what had been revealed. If what Charlotte said were true, then Mercurial Logic had sacrificed an innocent girl in the name of science, to create a fully functioning artificial mind, and then enslaved it.

  She was horrified at what they’d done to the original Charlotte. But was this Charlotte really a sentient being? A mind? The tests said she was, but… could they be fooled?

  As they made their way down empty corridors, many with dim or no lighting, she thought long and hard. What else could Charlotte be, if not what she claimed? Could she be just an intelligent girl with state-of-the-art implants? What had Mercurial created? And what was Charlotte herself capable of? Angel needed to keep an eye on her and try to figure out what she was really building.

  They entered a control room. Blank output screens and panels covered the walls. Old systems, from the look of them, incompatible with direct implants.

  Charlotte opened a data port and removed a device from her pocket. She plugged it in and stepped back. “There. That should… does, allow me access to the manufactory’s systems.”

  “Where did you get that?” Angel said.

  Charlotte glanced at Angel. “I had the ship make it. It will take a while to program the manufactory, and still longer until production starts. If you like, you can wander around, explore. I’m sure there are interesting leavings here, ones particular to the Genevolves. Or you could go back and wait in the ship.”

  “How did you find this place if it’s both secret and abandoned?”

  “It was in a data file I… accessed. Of one of the people involved in my creation.”

  “They were a Genevolve, then. Nothing else fits.”

  “Yes.”

  “They’ve been declared outlawed. So, Mercurial was working with them. It figures. Fucking corporations.”

  “The Genevolves are still out there, scattered. Following their plans, searching for the next step that brings them closer to their goal.”

  “And you’re one of their steps.”

  Charlotte smiled. “They hoped so. They’re at a dead end. Gone as far as they can. They wanted… no, needed a leap forward. I’m that leap. Or I was.”

  A screen blinked to life, and lines of code began scrolling. Then another came on, a schematic of the manufactory’s machines, one of which glowed orange.

  A harsh metallic clank sounded in the distance. Angel looked at Charlotte, who tilted her head to the side, frowning.

  “Something’s out there,” Charlotte said.

  “Probably another automaton.”

  “No. They’re all accounted for. There’s something else…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off. Abruptly, she stood. “Angel, we’re not alone.”

  Angel leapt to her feet and drew her hand-cannon. “Mercurial?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No. The Genevolves. They left a present for anyone who stumbled upon this place. Not a pleasant one, either.”

  “What are you talking about? I need more information.”

  “The manufactory is run by a semi-intelligent program. Old, but it still functions. The Genevolves must have left final instructions with it, should anyone find this place and not be one of them. It’s started making something else. My project has been halted.”

  Angel grabbed Charlotte’s arm, urging her ahead. “If the program has control of the manufactory, then the safest place is our ship. Go!”

  Charlotte dashed ahead, and Angel followed. Another clank echoed down the corridor, coming from their right. As Charlotte ran through an intersection, a metal blast door slammed between them, and Angel crashed into it.

  “Charlotte!” Angel banged on the door with her fist. Her pounding echoed down the corridor behind her.

  “Angel.”

  Charlotte’s voice was faint, and Angel could hear tapping, as if the girl were also hammering on the door.

  “Get to the ship!” Angel yelled. “I’ll find a way around and meet you there.”

  She barely heard Charlotte’s reply. “All right.” But the tapping stopped, and she assumed Charlotte was doing as she’d suggested.

  Angel checked her weapon. It was fully charged and loaded, but she had no idea what to expect. She flicked the ammunition selector to general purpose armor-piercing rounds. Whatever the manu
factory could throw at them, it stood to reason it would be mechanical, so flechettes would be worse than useless.

  She turned away from the blast door and crept down the corridor. At the first intersection, she ducked her head around both corners. All clear. Left, then left at the next intersection. The way was blocked by another blast door. She knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but she deserved a break, didn’t she? Backtracking, she began to make a wide circle around where she knew the two blast doors were, in the hope the manufactory’s intelligence wasn’t very smart. It was old, so perhaps she’d be in luck.

  A panel in the wall hissed open about twenty meters ahead. Angel lunged for a door handle on her left and, thankfully, it opened. She slipped inside the room and knelt, closing the door until only a crack remained for her to peer through.

  A shadow moved inside the revealed duct, and an automaton emerged. It had a number of sharp implements designed for mechanical maintenance that could easily be used as weapons. And there was no reason for them all to be out while the automaton traveled the corridors.

  Angel kept her eyes on the machine as it rolled away from her then turned a corner. The hatch the automaton had appeared out of gave her an idea. They would be looking for her in the corridors, so she’d use their service conduits.

  She counted to twenty after the automaton disappeared, then slunk over to the hole in the wall. Yes, this could very well work. She lowered herself to her hands and knees and crawled inside the duct. In front of her, the conduit disappeared into darkness. Her implants flicked settings, and the blackness dissipated to a dull gray. It was empty. Angel breathed a sigh of relief and made sure she could reach her weapon if needed.

  She crawled forward, hoping she didn’t run into more of the maintenance automatons with all of their tools at the ready. A bead of sweat trickled down her face.

  It was stuffy inside the conduit, presumably because only automatons used it and ventilation wasn’t needed. Initially, the duct sloped down until Angel thought she was beneath the main corridors; then it leveled out. Further along, after passing through two intersections, she judged she’d made sufficient progress to head toward the docking bay. Blinking sweat from her eyes, she licked salty beads from her lips, wishing she had water to drink. Her hands were slimy, and inside her clothes, her skin was damp and sticky.