The Orb

by Tara Basi

  Zip started awake to find director Thin shaking her shoulder.

  “We must talk, privately,” he said and turned around to shut the meeting room door.

  Zip was glad to be woken up. The nightmare had been too real; she could still smell the burning air. Zip shuddered and rubbed her eyes. Headgear said she’d been asleep for a couple of hours. Mathew hadn’t changed his position: he was, as ever, still and silent. Director Thin had recovered his sartorial elegance, though his eyes were still a little bloodshot and he could do with a shave. After making sure the door was secured, Thin slumped in a seat, breathing heavily, pressing his palm to his chest. Gathering himself, he removed his bowler and placed it carefully on the table along with a small cloth bag. Zip sat and waited patiently for the director to speak.

  “Since we stopped the pilgrimages and began withdrawing our forces from the coast, Industries has started taking us seriously. We’ve agreed on a story. A credible terrorist threat. No one wants to make matters worse by talking about a possible Orb Event. They’re reluctant to let that,” Thin said, pointing at Mathew, “into London unless it looks human. There’ll be enough panic as it is. Can it do that?”

  Mathew transformed into Gunner Mathew, the beautiful young man Zip had known so well. Only his dead eyes betrayed the fact that he wasn’t really human.

  Thin gasped. “Where do these weapons come from? If we had a dozen of these …”

  “Get on with it, Director,” Zip urged, anxious to be on her way.

  “A helicopter is waiting. It’ll fly you to the tunnel. Industries has sent a train to collect you.” Thin pushed the cloth bag towards Mathew. “Industries sent it. That has to be wearing it before the train will depart and take you both to Peter.”

  Zip sighed but wasn’t surprised. Industries was never going to allow an unharnessed AI into London. Did the Church know Mathew had disabled their kill-vest? It didn’t matter. Mathew picked up the bag and nodded.

  Zip turned back to Thin. “Let’s go.”

  Thin donned his hat and said, “I’m not a religious man, but Jesus and the Tramp, I hope there isn’t an Event.”

  Zip could only nod again. If it were anything like her nightmare, war might be better.

  Out in the corridor, a pair of Church troopers were waiting to escort them. They looked surprised and relieved there was no shiny AI coming.

  Moments later, they were taking off and heading for the Channel, unsteadily at first, before the pilot compensated for Mathew’s unexpected weight. As they passed low over the palace wall, Zip was relieved to see that the slums of Paris seemed unaffected by Beta’s attack. Ragged figures working on shack roofs looked up briefly as they flew overhead then returned to their business.

  At the port, there was still a vast military encampment, but the roads were clogged with camouflaged trucks heading inland. Either side of the Church runway, military planes were taxiing in long lines, waiting to take off. Their ride touched down near the station. Accompanied by a dozen troopers, Zip and Mathew were guided to the London-bound platform. There was bedlam on the concourse crowded with bewildered Pilgrims. Many were being forcibly herded back onto the trains that had brought them, and some were resisting. Their obvious rage and confusion contrasted starkly with the long line of happy Pilgrims returning from London who’d managed to see God.

  A maglev engine with a single carriage was waiting for them. It was the same kind of carriage she had travelled on previously. The wooden floor groaned as Mathew stepped inside but held. He looked convincingly human, in his speech and his movements, although any kind of serious electronic scrutiny or a simple weight measurement would instantly reveal he was a machine. Mathew opened the cloth bag Director Thin had given him, discarded the broken Church kill-vest and pulled the Industries’ cobweb harness on. He was a prisoner again and shackled. Mathew must be desperate to recover his humanity to trust Industries with his freedom and his life.

  As the train left the station, Zip had a question for him. “If you want to be human so much, why don’t you always look like this, like Gunner Mathew?”

  “This doesn’t make me human.”

  Zip sighed. Of course it didn’t. Her thoughts turned to the Orb Event. She had to make sure Alice and her grandchildren were safe. Then maybe there would be time to help Bremer and Bella if they needed it. Q was probably as safe as anyone down in Sediment Town. Her Headgear said it was less than eighty hours to Beta’s predicted Orb Event. She leant back in her wooden seat and closed her eyes. Not to sleep, and face more nightmares, just to rest. It might be the last rest she’d get for some time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Bunny, Mathew, Zip, Peter and Quattro

  The silence in the underground Industries lab was unbearable. Bunny had only said one word – “Wait.” – and Quattro hadn’t said anything since the Suit had condemned them all to a lifetime’s imprisonment. That had been many hours ago. Since then, neither of them would answer his increasingly desperate questions. They were as mute as the metal they were fashioned from. Peter had resorted to screaming in frustration at the air in the lab till his voice gave out. Finally, exhausted, he’d joined his fellow captives in their infuriating silence. Peter had been so sure Bunny was going to whisk them away to his hidey-hole and lead himself and Quattro to freedom. Maybe Bunny really was insane and now he was trapped down here with the mad machine. He’d assumed Quattro would want to talk to him and he had so many questions for her. Where had the message about Zip and the Orb come from if it wasn’t part of Kiki’s Record? What was her great responsibility, her mission? And what the hell was Bunny waiting for?

  He lay on the cot and tried to think. There was a lot of equipment in the lab; maybe some of it could be used to get him out of here. Peter squeezed his head with his fists. Stupid idea. Even if he could fashion something, Industries was always watching. They’d never let him succeed. The bland, white ceiling seemed to mock his desperation. It was so calm and pristine, like the rest of the lab. He imagined himself running amok and smashing everything he could. The thought gave him some momentary comfort. If nothing happened and this was now his life, he’d do it, smash everything up; and then, if he found the courage, kill himself.

  “Peter, perhaps some work would help.”

  Peter sat up so quickly he felt dizzy. Finally, the damn machine had decided to speak. “What the—?” he started to ask and then stopped as Bunny moved towards the area of the lab with the mirror.

  “Yes, it might help,” he said and joined Bunny.

  Even though he was fully expecting Bunny to whisk him away to its dingy hiding place, Peter let out a gasp at the abruptness of the transition.

  “Quattro is sleeping. She must sleep often, for a little longer. Then she will need to sleep very little.”

  It was some relief to know that Quattro wasn’t deliberately ignoring him, but he was still angry with Bunny. “Were you sleeping as well? Why didn’t you tell me this before? I was going mad out there.”

  “An AI does not require sleep. The Suit must not suspect how much Bunny knows about reanimation technology.”

  Peter hated the machine; all its answers were just more riddles. He wasn’t going to be drawn into another pointless conversation. There was only one priority, one thing on his mind: “What about this rescue?”

  “It hasn’t come. It may now be too late. Be patient, Peter. For the next seventy-eight hours, this could be the safest place in London. After that, everything may change.”

  Peter groaned in frustration. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on and stop all this ridiculous cloak and dagger nonsense?”

  “Matters are not as bleak as they seem. Bunny requires certain elements to be in place before we can escape. Quattro in the lab, the Suit to enter a VR.”

  “That’s already happened. You need something else? What?” Peter asked, hoping the AI was finally going to tell him something useful.

  “Please, Peter, I find the term ‘you’ quite offensive. It’s Bunny.”
>
  Peter groaned and slapped his forehead. Why was the damn machine so sensitive about how it was addressed, a behaviour he’d never seen in any other AI? Normally, they were indifferent to the names humans gave them.

  “Fine, Bunny, now tell me what’s missing?”

  “The missing piece.”

  Peter picked up a piece of metal from the workbench and smashed Bunny across the face with it. He yelped, dropped his crude weapon and squeezed his throbbing hand. Bunny hadn’t moved a centimetre. It was as if it hadn’t even noticed Peter’s blow.

  “I’m going mad. Tell me what’s missing. I can help. Why’s Quattro important? Why does the Suit have to be in the VR?” Peter fired off.

  “Wait. We can only wait.”

  “Wait? Wait for what? Tell me something, you damn machine!” Peter screamed.

  “If we cannot escape, Bunny can provide a full explanation. In seventy-eight hours. Not before.”

  It was an empty conversation, like so many since Kiki had died. “Take me back,” Peter demanded and, in a blink, he was. Peter decided he had no choice. He’d wait for Bunny’s deadline to expire. There wasn’t much else he could do. He wandered aimlessly around the lab for a while then decided he would try Quattro again. It was impossible to tell from her demeanour if she was awake or asleep.

  “Quattro, are you awake?”

  “Yes, Peter,” she said, making Peter jump in surprise.

  “Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been worried about you,” Peter said, hurt by her indifference to his feelings.

  “I’ve been awake only a short while and you seemed to be deep in conversation with Bunny. Besides, I’ve been using the time to understand my new nature.”

  Peter wasn’t convinced. Bunny’s holographic trickery might momentarily fool Industries surveillance systems, but it was unlikely to convince an AI body like Quattro’s with its extended range of senses. If she saw through the trick and wasn’t saying anything, then she was doing the right thing. Bunny and his secret room might yet prove useful.

  “What do you mean ‘new nature’?”

  “Each sleep brings a closer integration of my body and my mind. I can’t explain it exactly, Peter, but I think I’m changing into something else.”

  Peter started to worry. Was something failing? Were the sleep routines corrupt? “I’ll run diagnostics. It’s probably nothing,” he said in a voice that sounded calmer than he felt.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, Peter. There’s nothing wrong. I just feel different and I understand this body better. My purpose is becoming ever clearer. It is worth the sacrifice.”

  Peter sighed, another mystery. What was Quattro talking about? Then an unwanted thought hit him hard, and he shivered. “Is it a religious feeling?”

  Quattro laughed. Despite the tension, Peter smiled. It was a wonderful, natural sound, even if it was emanating from a most unnatural source.

  “No, Peter, I’m not experiencing a Revelation.”

  Peter felt the tightness that had been building in his neck and shoulders gradually dissipate. “What is it then? What sacrifice?”

  “Don’t be concerned, Peter. I’m happy.”

  He had never heard any reanimated version of Kiki use those words. He couldn’t even remember when the real Kiki had last told him she was happy. Peter, the father, was happy too. Peter, the AI scientist, was intrigued by her comments. Her body was extremely sophisticated. It would have a myriad of near-AI processors spread throughout its frame to manage all the autonomous physical and sensory adjustments to its environment. The consciousness that was Quattro was most likely integrating into the network of lesser minds that were already present in her body. It might give her feelings of euphoria but should be harmless and ultimately beneficial: an increasingly stable, networked mind tightly integrated with the capabilities of her body, yielding a more capable whole. It would do no harm, he thought, to confirm that’s what was happening.

  “Still, maybe a quick diagnostic run. Perhaps a closer look at this body’s deep layers?”

  Bunny immediately intervened, a sure sign that it didn’t want the subject discussed or any tests run. “Bunny’s analysis suggests Quattro should complete her cycle of deep recuperative sleeps over the next seventy-two hours before we attempt any other interventions. Wouldn’t you agree, Peter?”

  No, he wouldn’t. Not at all. The diagnostics were non-invasive and entirely passive. They’d have no effect on Quattro. And there was that time check again – seventy-two hours. What was going to happen in seventy-two hours? He’d give Bunny the time it seemed desperate for and add its fear of a diagnostic scan of Quattro to his long list of questions for the Machiavellian machine.

  “I believe Bunny is right, Quattro,” he said. “Let’s wait till your cycle completes and then we’ll see how you feel.”

  If Quattro suspected Peter and Bunny were lying, she didn’t show it in her voice. “Well, I really don’t understand any of this technology. I’m just a user. You know best.”

  Peter took hold of Quattro’s hand. For once, it yielded to his touch and she let him hold it. “I’m sorry it’s ended up like this, you being trapped down here.”

  She squeezed his hand. It was gentle and tender, a touch he’d never expected to feel again. Peter smiled.

  “Peter, what are you and the mad Zip woman up to?”

  Startled, Peter released Quattro’s hand and turned towards the familiar voice. The Suit was back. Maybe Industries had changed their mind.

  “Are you going to let us go?”

  “Not likely, especially now. Answer my question,” the Suit insisted as it menacingly closed on Peter.

  He didn’t know what to say. Industries had probably monitored most of his encounters with Zip. And now he didn’t even know where she was or what the hell she was up to anymore.

  “Nothing. Why? What’s going on?”

  “Did she get her memory back? Is that something you forgot to tell us?”

  Peter had never heard the Suit sound anything but calm. Now its voice was trembling with emotion. It seemed barely able to control the simmering rage Peter could hear in its tone.

  “What memories? Why is that important?”

  The Suit ignored Peter, drifted slowly towards Quattro and seemed to be studying her. “You mirrored machines are all hiding something.” The Suit moved silently over to Bunny. “Aren’t you? I know we’ve scanned you and your shiny friends in every way possible and found nothing, but I still don’t trust any of you.”

  Quattro and Bunny remained as still as shop mannequins and didn’t reply.

  The Suit returned to Peter. “You’re getting visitors. Old friends: Mathew, odd name for an AI, and that woman, Zip. Though I have to tell you, Peter, she was even crazier when she was Zara. We need to reanimate Professor Simmons. Don’t bother with a complex VR scenario; manifest her in a VR of this lab. I want answers, and quickly.”

  Peter was so shocked, he tried to grab the Suit’s shoulders only to find his hands passing through thin air. The Suit’s hologram momentarily flickered.

  “You’re bringing Kiki’s murderer here? Why?”

  “You don’t get to ask questions, Peter. I’ll be back when the VR is ready. I want you there, a friendly face, but no one else. Not yet. We’ve agreed with the Church that Zip and Mathew can question Professor Simmons later, when we’ve finished. Do you understand, Peter?”

  Peter didn’t understand. Not at all. Why would Industries care what the Church wanted?

  The Suit disappeared, and the lift doors opened, revealing Zip in a strangely cheerful summer dress that was sweat stained and creased, as if she’d been wearing it for many days. Next to her was a man he didn’t recognise in God-War military fatigues. The pair were flanked by six heavily armed Industries guards who escorted them into the lab.

  “Mathew, Zip,” Quattro called out in greeting.

  Mathew? And then Peter remembered the mail man who’d brought Quattro’s body in a crate. As though on Quattro�
�s cue, Mathew shimmered and lost his disguise. It was impossible to tell Bunny and Mathew apart. They were even wearing identical kill-vests. He was happy to see the vest; he preferred Mathew restrained.

  “Quattro, I assume?” Zip asked.

  “Quattro still. I thought of changing it.”

  “Oh, why?”

  “It’s a terrible horror story. Peter can explain, probably another time, better times.”

  Zip nodded.

  A guard approached Peter, pushed a sparkling Record into his hands, then turned and left with the rest of his comrades. The lift doors slid shut behind them, and Peter knew they were locked in. The lab was still a prison; there were just more prisoners. While Peter was staring after the guards, Bunny took the Record from his open palm.

  “Bunny will prepare the VR as Industries has instructed. Hello, Zara. Or do you prefer Zip?”

  From Zip’s reaction, Peter guessed she hadn’t noticed Bunny before its intervention. Her eyes widened and her mouth moved without making any sound. “Zip,” she said. She turned to Mathew. “Family?”

  Mathew didn’t react. Peter wondered if Bunny was as surprised to see Mathew as Zip was to see Bunny? He knew the machines couldn’t be secretly communicating: the kill-vests would block any kind of data exchange. He looked over to Bunny. It had loaded the Record into the reanimator. In a few moments, it would be ready. Preparing the VR environment was trivial. Bunny had just cloned their current environment inside a virtual space. An impossible encounter with the scientific icon of the age and his ex-lover was only minutes away. Peter wasn’t sure he believed it was actually happening. Why did they have to reanimate Professor Simmons? The Suit already had what Industries wanted from the Tramp.

  Zip might know something. “Why are you here? What happened to you?”