by Alex Scarrow
‘Yes?’
‘Let’s birth it.’
‘OK.’
Sal squat ed down on her haunches to tap the command into the smal control panel at the bot om of the cylinder.
‘Er … Liam?’ said Maddy.
‘Yes?’
‘Would you mind?’
‘Mind? Mind what?’
‘A lit le privacy?’
‘Uh?’
Maddy sighed. ‘It may just be a mindless blubbering clone right now … but it’s stil a lady.’
Liam was stil sulking at being kicked out of the back room when the metal door to the hatchery nal y slid to room when the metal door to the hatchery nal y slid to one side with a shril squeak of un-oiled rol ers. Maddy and Sal emerged through the doorway rst, beaming like a pair of proud midwives. They ushered a pale shu ing form wrapped in a long towel out into the light of the main arch.
Liam studied her; she was tal er than the other two and, of course, as Bob had rst been when he’d been dumped out of the bot om of his tube, she was completely bald. Yet, despite that, he realized she was – and he felt a lit le queasy admit ing this to himself – quite beautiful.
‘Uh … hel o,’ he said awkwardly.
The clone stared at him curiously as the girls led her across the arch towards the table and armchairs. Her pale skin glistened, wet with the goo she’d been oating in only moments ago, and the smel – like a rancid meat stew –
wafted across to him, turning his stomach.
‘Hel o there,’ said Liam again as they sat her down opposite him.
‘Flug herr gu f slurb,’ the clone replied, dark brown slime dribbling out of the side of her mouth and down her chin.
‘Right,’ said Maddy to Liam. ‘You can get acquainted while I sort out uploading Bob’s AI.’
He nodded, his eyes stil locked on the clone. She seemed to have lit le of the bulging musculature of Bob …
athletic, though, not bulky like he’d been last time. Bob.
Bob? Liam, you idiot.
Bob? Liam, you idiot.
He realized that it was stupid to think of that rst apelike clone as Bob; it had merely been the organic vehicle that Bob’s AI code had rst used. But stil , he mused, Bob’s
‘personality’ – if he could actual y use that word – had been formed inside that big brute. It was almost impossible not to think of him as a big, clumsy, Panzer tank of a man, with fuzzy coconut hair and a voice as deep and rumbling as one of the trains that regularly rat led over the Wil iamsburg Bridge above them.
During the six months he’d been stuck in the past with him he’d grown at ached to the big lumbering ape; not just the code in his head, but that expressionless vapid face of his, those horribly awkward smiles – more like a horse baring its teeth. He’d even cried when those men had gunned Bob down, riddling him with enough bul ets to ensure that even his robust body had no hope of recovery. Cried as Bob had ‘died’ in his arms and he’d had to perform an act of surgery that since then he’d done his very best to blank from his memory.
Cried for Bob, although he’d never admit that to the others because it seemed sil y. Al that made Bob Bob had survived, had come back from the past in his bloodcovered hand: a wafer of silicon containing his AI, every memory he had, al the learning, al the adapting, al the growing up he’d done in those six months in the past. That was Bob, not the tat ered bul et-riddled corpse he’d left behind in the blood-spat ered snow of 1941.
Liam looked again at the young … woman … in front Liam looked again at the young … woman … in front of him: lean and athletic, a porcelain beauty to her face. Her? HER? It’s an IT, Liam. IT … get it? Not a ‘her’. Just an organic vehicle. A meat robot.
Almost as if the clone could read his mind, it drooled another long spit le string of gunk out of the side of its mouth and grunted something unintel igible.
Sal giggled. ‘So like Bob, isn’t she? She could be his twin sister.’
Maddy returned from the desk to sit beside the female clone. ‘OK, Bob’s preparing the download protocols. He needs to handshake with this support unit’s in-built operating system before he can upload a copy of his AI into it.’
‘Uh … how does Bob get into her … its head?’ asked Liam. ‘Don’t you need some sort of a cable or something?’
‘Bluetooth,’ she replied wearily. ‘Yes, I know, that means nothing to you.’ She sighed. ‘OK. It’s a broadband wireless data communication protocol designed for lowlatency short-distance transmission.’ Liam was stil staring at her, slack-jawed and bemused. Maddy sighed again.
‘Information wil y through the air from the computer and into its head.’
‘Oh … right.’ Liam smiled. ‘Why didn’t you just say that in the rst place?’
They heard a beep coming from the computer desk.
‘Uploading is starting now,’ said Maddy.
The clone sit ing opposite Liam suddenly jerked upright and cocked her head like a dog hearing a dog-whistle. and cocked her head like a dog hearing a dog-whistle. He watched with fascination as the support unit’s eyes blinked rapidly with the data ooding into the tiny computer system built into the middle of its cranium –
computer technology that came from the 2050s, technology immensely more powerful than their array of linked PCs beneath the computer desk.
The download of information took about ten minutes, then nal y the female clone closed her eyes.
‘Instal ing,’ explained Maddy. ‘Then it wil boot up again.’
After a few moments the clone looked up at them with eyes that now seemed to faintly glint with intel igence.
‘Bob?’ said Maddy, ‘you OK?’
The clone nodded awkwardly. ‘A rmative.’ The voice was a deep growl, almost as deep as Bob’s old voice had been.
‘Jay-zus!’ Liam lurched. ‘That’s … weird.’
Sal pul ed a face. ‘Ewww … jahul a! That’s just so-o-o wrong!’
‘I wil adjust the vocal register,’ Bob’s barrel-deep voice rumbled. The support unit cocked its head then spoke again. ‘Is this bet er?’ The voice now the smooth upperregister of a teenage girl’s. Maddy nodded. ‘Much bet er. I think we can safely say you’re not an it … you’re a she now.’
Liam shook his head as he studied it … him … her …
Bob. ‘I feel very strange about this,’ he nal y mut ered.
‘Very strange indeed.’
CHAPTER 14
2001, New York
‘Now, she’s had al the biographical information about Edward Chan and details of the layout of the Texas Advanced Energy Research Institute uploaded. Isn’t that right?’
The support unit nodded as she lowered herself into the water beside Liam, wearing underwear that Maddy had self-consciously pul ed out from beneath the sheets of her bunk and donated.
‘A rmative. I have al the data required for this mission,’ the support unit replied sweetly.
Liam shook his head. ‘This is so weird. I mean … it’s great to have you back an’ al , Bob, but you’re a … you’re a …’ His glance ickered involuntarily for a moment towards the clone’s chest. He clasped his eyes shut. ‘Oh Jeez … you’re a girl, so you are!’
‘Recommendation: suggest this copy of my AI be given an appropriate unique identi er.’
Maddy, sit ing on the top step and looking down at them in the water, nodded. ‘That’s right. You can’t go round cal ing her Bob.’
‘Additional information: although the AI in my computer is a direct duplication, I am now interfaced with computer is a direct duplication, I am now interfaced with a di erent organic brain, and during the operational lifespan of this organic support frame, di erent data wil result in a di erent emergent AI.’
Liam looked up at Maddy. ‘What did she … it … Bob just say?’
‘That you should think of this support unit as someone brand new. As a di erent team member … because she’s going to develop a di erent personality. That’s right, isn’t it?’The
support unit nodded. ‘A rmative. Consequently this AI should have its own identifying label.’
‘She needs a new name to avoid confusion with Bob,’
added Maddy, nodding towards the bank of monitors and computers on the desk. ‘Remember, Bob’s stil in there.’
She grinned. ‘You’re best thinking of this support unit as
… I dunno … his sister.’
Liam looked at the clone treading water beside him. She tried one of Bob’s reassuring horse smiles – just as clumsy and il - t ing as her … brother. But, somehow, more appealing on her slim face.
‘Liam,’ she said softly, ‘please give me a name.’
‘Go on,’ said Maddy. ‘It’s your turn.’
He shook his head. ‘I … don’t know.’
‘OK, you think about it.’ She cal ed across the archway to Sal. ‘What’s the countdown?’
‘Fifty seconds!’
She handed them a couple of sealed plastic bags.
‘Clothes for you in there. And a wig for her. Now, you’l
‘Clothes for you in there. And a wig for her. Now, you’l arrive at the institute just as a class of thirty children are being given a tour of the place. I’ve checked the oor plans and picked out what looks like an equipment storage room near to the institute’s main experimental chamber. That’s where we’l send you. You can dry o and change in there, then join the school party.’
Liam nodded.
‘You’l be there to observe how Edward Chan is assassinated, OK? Not to stop it … just watch. Then we’l bring you back, you can tel us what happened, then we can work on what we need to do to prevent it happening. That’s the plan. Got it?’
‘Aye. And the return window?’
‘Is set for ten minutes after Edward Chan’s time of death. The usual failed-return protocols apply – if you miss that rst window, we’l open again an hour later …
you know how it goes.’
‘An hour later, a day later, a week later.’
‘That’s it.’
‘Thirty seconds!’ cal ed out Sal.
‘You OK, Liam?’ said Maddy softly.
He nodded, his teeth beginning to chat er with the cold.
‘Come back safely,’ she said a ectionately, pat ing his hand holding the side of the tube. She got to her feet and clanked down the steps beside the tube.
‘Ten seconds!’
Liam turned to look at the support unit treading water beside him. ‘Hey … I’ve got a name for you.’
beside him. ‘Hey … I’ve got a name for you.’
‘Insu cient time, Liam,’ she replied. ‘We have to go under the water now.’
Reluctantly he nodded, sucked in a big lungful of air, let go of the side and held his nose. The support unit gently rested a hand on top of his head and shoved him under with surprising force, then ducked beneath the water herself.
CHAPTER 15
2015, Texas
He watched Edward Chan walking ahead of him with the other kids. He looked so smal among the other highschool-age kids, so smal and so vulnerable with his highschool rucksack on his back and a yel ow T-shirt two sizes too big for him.
Yes. Yes, he does … but don’t forget who this boy is. Just how dangerous he is.
Howard Goodal grit ed his teeth with renewed determination. Ahead of him, just a dozen yards away, was the legendary Edward Chan, grandfather of time-travel technology. His mind reiterated an inescapable mantra. The boy has to die. The boy has to die.
Too many of his col eagues had been arrested to get him to this place, this time, close enough to kil Chan. He could feel the weight in his own rucksack – a red one with High School Musical 4 stencil ed in cheerful pink across it. He could feel the weight of responsibility in there and the miniature carbon-bre projectile weapon hidden inside an innocent-looking camping ask, the cheap plastic kind you can pick up from Wal-Mart for ve dol ars.
The institute’s guide eased his way through the shu ing trail of students to the front where he stopped, turned trail of students to the front where he stopped, turned round and raised his hands to get everyone’s at ention.
‘OK, now that you guys have al had some refreshments and you’ve had a lit le introduction to the theory behind zero-point energy, we’re going to be heading into the business part of this facility: the experimental reactor building. Before we go inside there’s one more security check –’
Thirty students moaned in unison.
‘Sorry, kids,’ he laughed. ‘I’m afraid it’s procedure, so if you’d al just open your rucksacks and school bags one last time for our security guards to get a quick look-see inside, then we can proceed.’
Third time. Howard did his best to look just as casual and irritated at the hassle as al the other kids. He unzipped his rucksack and held it open for a cursory glance. If the guard bothered to unscrew the drinking cap of the camping ask, he’d nd the smal weapon, which was roughly the size and shape of a whiteboard marker. Howard watched the guard work his way down the line of impatient children.
But he won’t unscrew it … because, Howard, you’re going to look just as bored as al these other kids. Bored and impatient to get on with the tour. And not nervous. Not scared.
Howard was the one in their group they’d selected to do the job. Although he was twenty-three he looked young, young enough to pass as a high-school student, a few tufts of downy hair on his upper lip suggested a boy desperate of downy hair on his upper lip suggested a boy desperate to grow his rst moustache. His dark wavy hair pul ed back into a scru y ponytail, his thrash-metal Arch-NME On Tour T-shirt, took six or seven years o him. Now, he no longer looked like Howard Goodal , a mathematics graduate from the year 2059, but Leonard Baumgardner –
some grungy high-school kid who’d managed to earn a set of top scores in his SATs.
The real Lenny was back home in his basement, bound and gagged along with his mom. Howard had brie y considered kil ing them both, worried they might struggle free and raise the alarm. But he gured this was al going to be done before that could happen.
He looked close enough in appearance to the spot y face on Lenny’s old school ID card to pass a cursory examination, and since this party of students had assembled together in Austin earlier this morning, and he was the only kid from Baumgardner’s school going, there was no one there to not recognize him. No one had any reason to believe he wasn’t young Leonard.
Of course, none of the kids knew each other; they were from di erent schools al over the state – thirty kids assembling, early morning, with their parents, waiting to be signed on to the coach and into the care of Mr Whitmore for the day.
Howard glanced around at the others.
And what if one of the others is not who he says he is?
He kicked that thought away as quickly as it had arrived. He needed to stay very calm. Needed to look arrived. He needed to stay very calm. Needed to look relaxed, like these others; slightly bored, waiting to be shown something interesting, something worth crawling out of bed for so early.
The guard nal y reached for Howard’s bag. ‘Morning,’
he grunted. ‘Let’s take a look, son.’
Howard casual y held out his rucksack.
‘Anything hazardous in here, son?’
‘What? You mean … apart from my big bomb?’ sighed Howard with a lazy smile.
The guard scowled at him. ‘Not even funny, kid.’ His hand rummaged quickly through the grubby items inside: a sandwich box, the ask, several rol ed-up and dog-eared comicbooks, before he slapped the rucksack closed and waved Howard past.
Howard o ered the guard a casual wave. ‘Have a nice day, now.’
‘Go on, kid … scoot,’ said the guard, before turning to rummage through another bag.
Ahead he could see Chan and the other students gathered around the guide, Mr Kel y, and the teacher, Mr Whitmore, waiting for the last of them to be checked. He sucked in a deep breath as he wandered over to join them, set ling his nerves, his p
ounding heart. Inside the zero-point chamber, that’s when he was going to do it. The chamber would be sealed, and this security guard and the others on the outside; his best chance to re several aimed shots at the boy. It would take them a while to react, to open the door.
open the door.
To take me down.
Howard smiled grimly. Not such a big price to pay to save the future of mankind, not real y.
CHAPTER 16
2015, Texas
They landed with a wet splash on to a hard tiled oor.
‘Ouch!’ Liam whimpered.
The water sloshed noisily across the oor soaking cardboard boxes of domestic cleaning materials.
‘Jay-zus, why can’t we ever land on something soft …
like a pil ow?’ He grimaced as he let go of his nose and pu ed out the breath he’d taken back in 2001.
‘Insu cient data to identify a soft landing loca–’
Liam raised a hand. ‘It’s al right … I wasn’t after an answer.’ He pul ed a wet shock of dark hair out of his eyes and opened them, instantly wishing he hadn’t.
‘Oh-Mother-of-God!’ He clamped his eyes shut and turned away to look at the storeroom wal .
‘What is wrong?’
‘You could have warned me you were taking those wet things o !’
‘Why?’
‘Because … because …’ He bit his lip. This is so very not right.
‘Because you’re a, ah … you’re a girl now, Bob.’
Liam spot ed some towels on the storeroom shelf and began to dry himself o .
began to dry himself o .
‘You should assign a new ident. to this AI copy. I may be “Bob” now,’ she said, ‘but this AI wil develop new subroutines and characteristics that require a new identifying label.’
Liam nodded. ‘Yes.’ Self-consciously he found himself wrapping the towel round his waist as he hurriedly removed his wet boxers and pul ed the clothes he’d brought with him out of the bag.
‘Four seconds before we were transmit ed, you indicated you had a suitable ident. for me.’
‘Oh yes … so I did.’
She turned to look at him. ‘So, what wil I be cal ed?’