by J P Waters
“Move!” Mona shouted just as the creature appeared again. This time it was coming right at Olie and preparing to lunge. Before it could, though, a dart fired, stopping it in its tracks. Mona stood with her gun raised.
“You got him,” said Olie, her heart jackhammering in her chest.
“Yes, I believe so,” Mona said, approaching the slumped body. “You’re welcome.” This time the resentment in Mona’s voice was unmistakable. Exactly how advanced were Sebanic AI?
“Does this look like Gerry to you?” Jayson asked, walking up to the creature and shining the spotlight on it.
Immediately Olie could tell it wasn’t Gerry. It was the same species for sure, but this specimen was at least twice as large. From end to end, the creature was almost two feet long, with an eye the size of a cue ball but dark as onyx. Olie figured there was no way Gerry could have grown so much in so short a time. He’d barely grown since she had first found him on the beach. The downy fur that had covered Gerry was also missing, as was his distinct white stripe down the center—this larger version was covered in sleek black feathers.
Dismayed, Olie shook her head. “No. This isn’t him.”
“Then there’s no room to argue this time, Olie. We have to take it to the police. That’s two confirmed animals. There could easily be more.”
“How? There’s no way it’ll fit in the box we made for Gerry.”
“We’ll put it in the trunk. It should be out for hours, but just to be safe…” Jayson shot a second dart into the creature. “Mona, do you mind picking it up?”
“Not at all.” Mona hefted the animal over her shoulder. As she had indicated, the weight didn’t seem to inconvenience her.
“But Gerry’s still out here!”
“We’ll find him tomorrow. We can’t leave this one here. This is bigger than just finding Gerry now.”
“True…”
Olie took another look out across the sand. She didn’t know whether she should be worried or relieved that it wasn’t Gerry they had found. There was no telling how the police would react.
“If this is its nest, it’s unlikely to stray far,” Mona added. “And searches will be easier with greater visibility.”
Mona was right. So was Jayson. Olie had to think of the public. Even if it meant leaving Gerry behind.
“Wait for me, bud,” she said before turning back to her companions and moving towards the car.
“Okay,” she said to them. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I don’t even know what to call them,” Olie said, climbing out of the car as they arrived at the closest police station.
“I’d call them spiders. They move an awful lot like arachnids,” Jayson replied.
“They don’t have eight legs,” said Mona.
“Pentanids?” offered Jayson.
“No… that doesn’t feel right.” said Olie.
“I think we should call’em starks,” said Jayson. “Cross between something beautiful like a starfish and something nasty like a shark. What do you think?”
“Beyond rows of teeth, similarities with sharks are minimal,” said Mona.
“When they roll or cartwheel or whatever it is, their legs look like spokes,” Olie offered. “How about… rokes?”
“That’s good,” Jayson agreed. “Starks is better…”
“Rokes it is, then,” Olie said smiling. “At least until something better comes along. Careful now, Mona, we don’t know if it’s still asleep.”
The Seba stared blankly at the back of the car. “My sensors detect neither sound nor movement. Incapacitation is all but assured.”
“Let’s be prepared though, just in case,” Jayson said, leveling his dart gun at the back of the car.
Mona popped the trunk, revealing the roke, spread-eagled and lightly heaving, inside. It was alive and unconscious, but who knew for how much longer.
“Alright, let’s move.”
Mona heaved the roke back onto her shoulder and followed Jayson and Olie into the police station lobby, where they found a large desk manned by both a droid and a human. The droid seemed to be in low-power mode, while the human sat with arms crossed, watching a mini-telesphere. He sat up when he saw Olie and the others coming and quickly nudged the droid back to life.
Before he had a chance to say anything, Mona flopped the roke down on the desk, causing the officer to jump back with a yelp.
“What the hell is that?”
Olie glared at the officer. “If you’d picked up the phone you would already know that. This is the serial killer you’ve been looking for,” she said.
The officer stared in shock at the roke. “But what is it?”
“It’s a star—” started Jayson before Olie cut him off.
“We don’t know any better than you do. This is the second one we’ve found, though, and their behavior is consistent with the killings. I know—I was the one to discover the dead at the SeaCrest incidents,” Olie explained.
As she finished speaking, the animal began moving its legs. The officer flailed in surprise, knocking a mug of coffee to the floor with a crash. Jayson quickly took a syringe out of his pocket and stabbed the animal. The roke’s movement continued for a few seconds before the drug sucked it back into unconsciousness.
“Oh, no,” said the officer, his eyes wide with fear.
“You do not want this thing to wake up,” said Jayson. “Trust me.”
“Okay, um, let me make some calls.” Said the officer, choosing to use a comms station at the back of the office away from the sleeping roke.
Olie leaned in. “Do you have a cage of some kind? You might need it.”
The officer nodded. “Come on, this way.”
After the roke was locked inside a holding cell—the “drunk tank” as the officer called it—the trio was asked to wait in a large conference room with glass walls on two opposing sides and wood paneling on the others. One of the windowed walls overlooked the parking lot, where solar lights illuminated the police department’s cruisers and minitanks. Olie’s dart gun seemed insignificant in comparison.
Eventually a door at the far end of the room opened, and the same agents who’d questioned Olie at the plant walked in. The tall woman’s badge read “Scarborough,” while the wiry, mustached man’s badge read “Haight.”
Detective Scarborough took a seat opposite the group. “Well, well, well. Olivia Manning, you certainly are full of surprises.”
“You some kind of vigilante or something?” asked Haight, leaning against the wall behind Scarborough.
“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“We didn’t know you had it in you. Catching one of those things? Very impressive.”
“Had what in me? Are you saying you knew—”
“Wait,” Haight sharply cut her off. He straightened up and approached Mona. “Is this a Seba?”
“Yes, why?” Jayson said. “She’s my personal assistant.”
“She can’t be in here for this.”
“But—”
“She can’t be in here,” repeated Haight, taking a step towards Jayson this time. His posture was menacing despite his slight frame.
“Mona,” Jayson said. “Why don’t you step outside for a minute?”
“Of course, Jayson,” Mona replied, rising and exiting the room.
Once she was gone, Detective Scarborough explained.
“What we’re about to discuss is not something that Cerebral Bionics needs to know about.”
“But cloud surveillance is against the law. There’s no way CB would listen in,” Jayson responded.
Detective Scarborough sighed, and her features went from fierce to tired. “Look, I can tell discretion isn’t a priority with you two, but we can’t take any chances. A call would have been nice, by the way, before you hauled that animal through an unprepared precinct’s front door.”
“We tried to contact you.” Olie said, incredulous.
Scarborough gave a sh
rug. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re pretty busy around here. Trust us, we’re doing everything we can.”
Olie looked at the detectives and understanding washed over her.
“You know about these things, don’t you? Seeing that animal wasn’t a surprise for you.”
Detective Haight looked at Scarborough, and she nodded to him.
“No, it wasn’t.” said Haight. “We know they exist, that they are aggressive, and that’s about it. They are washing ashore every day and more just keep on coming.”
“What are you doing about it?” asked Jayson.
“Hunting them down. Building nets and enclosures where we can. Containing the problem.”
“But there’s quite a few of them,” explained Scarborough. “For every beach we quarantine, two more show signs of infestation. We have control units on their way to the beach where you found this specimen.”
A pang of fear hit Olie in the gut. Just how many of these creatures were there?
“The situation is an incredibly sensitive one,” Scarborough continued. “And while we appreciate your assistance, we must insist on your keeping absolutely silent and avoiding any more contact with the creatures.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Olie yelled, “There are more of those things out there killing people and you want me to stay quiet about this?”
“Yes,” said Scarborough. “I know this is personal to you, Ms. Manning, but there’s nothing else you can do. Please, leave this to the professionals. Your silence is the only assistance we need, and I remind you that you are legally required to comply with a silence mandate.”
“What if we don’t keep quiet, what then?” asked Jayson.
“If you break the mandate, you will be incarcerated.” Scarborough got up and smoothed her suit.
“If you break silence, expect more than incarceration. Expect pandemonium,” said Haight. “As dangerous as these animals are, it’d be even more dangerous if the public started panicking. Or, worse, started seeking them out. Can you imagine untrained civilians hunting these things? The death count would be astronomical.”
“You understand the importance of letting this go, then?” Scarborough asked.
Olie looked to Jayson, unsure how to respond. She couldn’t tell them about Gerry. It’d be the roke’s death sentence.
“I asked, do you understand?” Scarborough repeated.
“Yes,” Olie quietly replied.
“Good. Haight, bring in the paperwork. We’re done here.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jayson drank from a cocktail as he, Mona, and Olie sat in the corner of a bar located a short distance from the police station. The bar was composed almost completely of curved lines. The bar itself was an ‘S’ that stretched across the entire space, covered in chrome and reflecting the low lights overhead. Strategically-placed neon lamps cast a bluish-purple haze over a synth artist in the far corner. The vaporwave musician’s light music evoked an aura of cool, calm water. Beside Jayson, coated glass in the wall intersected at various points like a series of tributaries. The decor was clearly inspired by the water rationing that had plagued the area a few years earlier—an oasis during a drought.
“I wonder whether they’re taking them in alive,” Jayson said, taking a sip.
“I’m not sure we should be talking about this now,” Olie said. The agent’s Seba talk had made her even less comfortable around the AI than usual.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Olie. Mona doesn’t send any information to Cerebral Bionics. Do you, Mona?”
“According to the law established in the year 2057, home electronics and subsequent AI devices are not allowed to transmit information to the entity responsible for their production without the consent of the entities who employ them. Furthermore—”
“That’s enough,” said Jayson. Olie glared at Mona, wondering if the Seba was being totally honest.
Jayson cleared his throat and continued. “Besides, are we planning on trying to track Gerry down without her?”’
“You heard them, Jayson. We’re not allowed to track down Gerry at all.”
“Come on, Olie, really? You’re giving up just like that?”
“We don’t have a choice, Jayson,” Olie said, acid in her voice. “You heard them. Plus, do you know how much harder it would be to get off this planet once I have incarceration on my record?”
Jayson fell silent, their quarrel about her leaving still fresh in both of their minds. In the light of the glowing table they each looked somewhat sinister, Jayson especially so beneath the purplish haze.
“This still might be good, you know,” Jayson said after a long pause. “More rokes mean more DNA that can potentially be spliced back into extinct species. If they can thrive here, maybe other animals could be adapted and brought back, too.”
Olie didn’t want to engage—especially about the positives of the roke invasion. As far as she was concerned, Gerry was the only good thing to come out of it, and it was looking like he’d be just another heartbreak for her.
“I need to go home and think for a while… alone. Sorry, Jayson, today’s just been too much.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“No, I’ll call a transport. Thanks for the drink.”
“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Olie nodded and walked out of the bar.
Olie woke early and started her workout routine—one of the only constants left in her life. As she approached the shoreline on her morning run, she realized even that had been compromised. Large fences with Closed for Beach Rejuvenation signs printed in bright yellow forbade entry, blocking views of the ocean as well. The police must have quarantined the area already, lying about the reason to protect the public. She wondered if Gerry was on the other side. Did he miss her? Was he trapped now, or happy to be free? And just how many other rokes were there? Disheartened, Olie cut her run short and headed back.
After showering, Olie made breakfast. She ate and perused her smartsurface, trying not to let her attention wander to Gerry’s now-empty terrarium. Her house was still in shambles, but Olie couldn’t work up the motivation to clean. The most she’d done was tape a few cut pieces of cardboard over Gerry’s exit hole in the window to keep the elements out and her climate control in.
Olie browsed the same job boards she looked at every morning, but prospects were as abysmal as ever. With Gerry around she’d at least had someone to talk to, even if he was a lousy conversation partner. Without him, she felt even lonelier than she had before picking him up off the beach. Now his absence seemed to define the environment.
That afternoon, Olie still hadn’t dressed when there was a knock at the door. She quickly threw on some sweats and turned on the telesphere. Hardly anyone in her building knew she was unemployed yet—who could be calling?
It was Mona, but Jayson was nowhere in sight. Confused, Olie unlocked the door and pushed it open. Mona walked into the apartment without a word, carrying a large duffel bag under her arm.
“Mona, what are you doing here? Where’s Jayson?”
“Jayson sent me to assist you,” Mona replied in her flat monotone.
“Assist me with what?”
“Cleanup, for one,” Mona said, abruptly turning away from Olie and picking up the pieces from Gerry’s escape.
“But why didn’t Jayson come with you?”
“Jayson is busy with his own research into the rokes. You also asked to be left alone. Not being human, I do not fit into those considerations.”
Why did Jayson think Olie would want this? The gesture was sweet, kind of, but the Sebanic who broke the union’s strike had left a bad taste in Olie’s mouth. What’s worse, she couldn’t help but wonder who else was listening into her and Mona’s conversations after their run-in with the police.
Mona, on the other hand, hardly seemed to notice Olie’s presence. She cleaned quickly but thoroughly, returning Olie’s apartment to a near replica of its state before the esca
pe. She must have been accessing photos of its arrangement in her memory.
Once or twice Olie tried to help, but it was obvious she was only getting in the way. She tried getting back to “work” on her job search too, but the AI’s hustle and bustle was too distracting. Leaving Mona to work in silence, though, felt creepy, and Olie didn’t like it.
“Let me ask you something, Mona.”
“Yes, Olie.”
“You don’t actually report anything back to Cerebral Bionics, do you?”
“What you’re describing is an illegal activity.”
“Yeah, I know… But do you?”
“No, but this is a popular misconception,” Mona tossed a half-eaten hand towel into the garbage with a thump. “Conspiracy theorists have circulated the notion since the advent of AI. Would you like a history of their claims?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Are you a conspiracy theorist, Olie?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You sound open to the possibility.”
When did the AI get this snippy? Or was it just that she and Olie were alone? Either way, Olie changed the subject.
“You may not tell Cerebral Bionics everything, but what do you tell Jayson?”
“Whatever he asks,” Mona replied, turning to look Olie in the eyes. “I can make the conversations you and I have private, however, if you’d like.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes. I do have some autonomy, and Jayson communicated last night that I am to respond to your requests as if they come from him.”
“You promise?”
“I do.”
Olie still wasn’t sure that she trusted her, but at least this conversation felt like talking to a human rather than an appliance. And she didn’t quite trust Jayson not to spy on her either, even if he had the best intentions.
“Okay, then – yes, please. To private, that is. Thanks.”
Mona nodded.
“Jayson thinks the rokes should be captured and studied, and I think the police know more than they’re letting on. What do you think?”