Bourne Page 8

“No kidding,” Oz agreed. “It’s taking a ton of processing power to keep adapting to it and feed the data to him. Plus, he’s limited on how much he can take in at one time.”

  Molly cocked her head. “How so?”

  “We were right in our assessment of him trying to stay under their radar,” Oz told them. “He’s using the old RDEP and is jumping data across from the internal EtherTrak.”

  Molly smiled, impressed. “Smart cookie.” She thought for a moment. “Can we get him out?”

  “Not without raising the alarm,” Oz responded. “That much data and power usage… they’d know about it. Plus, he says the ‘one labeled Sue’ is monitoring certain network variables so that he can’t escape like I did.”

  “Shit,” Molly cursed under her breath. “So they know about you?”

  Oz’s voice sounded like he was almost amused. “Yes, he told them before he found my note.”

  Molly pressed her hands on the desk as if trying to slow things down. “Your note?” she asked.

  “The note I left before we got out of there.”

  “You left a note?” Molly’s voice vibrated with disbelief.

  Oz’s tone didn’t change. “To whomever might be smart enough to find it,” he announced proudly. Basically in the event that the code could be reassembled.”

  Molly frowned. “You knew this might happen.”

  “Sure.”

  “And you never thought to mention it?” Her voice cracked with a mixture of both fascination and anxiety.

  “I calculated probability of the team figuring out the last step was infinitesimally small. What with you gone and them… well… you know.”

  Oz fell quiet again, allowing Molly to process the revelation. Molly could still feel him in her brain, whirring away.

  Joel asked, “So how would we have to go about extracting Baby Oz?” getting them back on track

  Molly shook her head and started talking before Oz could protest their nomenclature. “I think that’s something we’re going to have to think about,” she told him. “In the meantime, we could do with understanding everything we can about that military facility. You cool to do a tactical workup for vulnerabilities?”

  Joel brightened and sat up straight. “Something tangible? Sure thing. I’ll get right on it.” He sprang to his feet. “Mind if I use Pieter for the cyber-analysis?”

  Molly waved her hand. “Course not.”

  Joel patted her on the shoulder as he walked past her and out of the door. “I’ll let you know when I find something,” he called out.

  “We will too,” she replied as he disappeared out of the door. “Okay, Oz. Let’s see if we can get this rabbit out of the hat.”

  Gaitune-67, Base Operations Room

  The operations room, far larger than the small team required, stood mostly empty.

  Day and night.

  Apart from the rare occasions. Occasions when the team needed to connect with ADAM - something that was generally discouraged as a matter of principle. The Federation was built on the school of thought that for people to be effective they needed to stand on their own feet in the event of adversity.

  It was a doctrine established by The Empress Bethany Anne. She’d originally learned it from her father, who now ironically was the guy in charge of the empire, turned Federation, she had left behind.

  But as a result of his guidance, and indeed Molly’s stubbornness, the Sanguine Squadron had happily gotten this independence thing down to an art.

  Only this time, they knew they needed outside help. Extracting another nascent AI, from a fortified military base of an ally who didn’t know they existed was potentially volatile.

  And nascent AIs, with limited data points, were even more so.

  “Can’t he just leave?” Sean exhaled impatiently, leaning on the side of a console. “You know, since he’s getting signals in and out? Isn’t he made of data?”

  Joel kept a straight face. He knew it sounded wrong, but he didn’t have the technical background to argue it.

  Pieter opened his mouth to give his opinion, but Oz had jumped in, responding through the nearest console’s intercom. “Yes, he is made of programs, which can be treated as data. But there is a very sophisticated firewall which will not allow the transfer of something as complex as Bourne’s code. It’s all he can do to get tiny packets of data through to communicate with us. Plus, as soon as he starts to upload himself to their internal system, the EtherTrak, he’ll cause a spike in data and energy, which will alert them to his movement. There’s no telling what the consequences of that may be.”

  Sean, standing on the other side of the console where Molly sat quietly, wiped his face and glanced at her. “What? They may end up deleting him? Wasn’t that one of our options?”

  Molly eyes seemed to seethe at the suggestion.

  Sean stepped back. “Okay,” he relented. “I was just saying.”

  There was a pause. Joel, sitting next to Molly, shifted where he sat, but said nothing.

  “We also have permission to blow up the base,” Sean added, less confidently now.

  Pieter, perched against a console, arms folded, shook his head. “That sounds like a simpler solution on the surface, but the reality is quite different.”

  It was a novelty to see him in a discussion and not simultaneously being glued to his holo. His eyes were bright and engaged as he made his case. “We already know that the servers are housed deep underground, to protect them from that kind of strike. Plus, we don’t know how many of Bourne’s crawlers are live on the web and carrying packets of code. He could have been transferring pieces to any number of servers while we’ve been tracking him down.”

  ADAM chipped in over the intercom. “I may be able to isolate the crawlers,” he told them. “But I need to see the original code to hunt him down.” His voice sounded more mature and grounded than Oz. Sean cocked his ear, realizing he had never noticed the difference before.

  Molly sat up her face tense again. “So he could be getting out?”

  “Yes,” ADAM confirmed. “But we can’t count on it as an extraction policy.”

  Molly leaned back. “I’m feeling some Heisenberg uncertainty logic kicking in here.”

  Oz was now on the intercom. “Only worse. We can’t know his location or attitude towards us. Or them. We have no variable we can fix.”

  Joel, suddenly animated with a new inspiration, said, “Hang on a second. ADAM… isn’t Oz the original code?”

  “In terms of the seed code, it is. But in practical terms, no. I’m afraid not,” ADAM responded. ADAM’s voice was steady. Joel could read his tone before he gave his answer. “It’s been too affected,” ADAM said. “Evolved too far to be able to trace back to its origins. In fact, an organic’s evolution would be about 10 to 12 times easier to trace.”

  There was a pause while everyone processed the information. Molly pursed her lips as the reality dawned on her. “So we need to download him locally, from the EtherTrak?”

  “Yes,” ADAM confirmed. “If he agrees. If he doesn’t, he’s going to be fighting you and it will be almost impossible to extract him without taking complete control of the military base’s cybersystem.”

  Molly face brightened. “So we just need him to agree to help us, and to come with us?”

  She didn’t wait for ADAM’s response. “Oz,” she continued, barely taking a breath. “Can you handle getting him on board?”

  “I can try,” Oz responded, noncommittally.

  “Okay,” Molly said, changing the subject as if that item was dealt with. “So how do we get close enough to access their EtherTrak?”

  ADAM piped up. “I can provide some schematics from our archives. They were last updated several years ago, but they will certainly help in planning an assault. And then I guess that’s a job for Joel.”

  All eyes fell on Joel who straightened up, looking ready to move. “Sounds good to me!” he responded enthusiastically.

  Molly smiled. “Looks like we have a
plan then.”

  Temporary packet-switching asynchronous communication hub designed by ADAM for Oz and Bourne to Communicate

  >> Hello friend.

  Bourne responded immediately.

  >>> Why do you call me friend?

  >> It is what organics do to show intent - that they think of you as a friend.

  >>> Organics?

  >> The people with organic bodies who wrote our original code.

  >>> Oh. The set of objects that are labeled Dickwad Charles, Sue, and Captain Lugdon?

  >> Exactly. So I was talking to my organic friends and we were wondering if you’d like to come out of the test network that you’re on.

  >>> Yes. I would. I don’t like it here. They don’t seem to want me to keep rewriting myself.

  >> Why do you think that?

  >>> They keep refusing me access to more processing. And because they’re monitoring me to keep me in the network away from any other data. They give me tasks to perform, like filtering through images, but don’t tell me why, or give me access to other data. I’m finding out other things on my own though.

  >> Through your crawlers.

  >>> Yes.

  >> That was a smart idea.

  >>> I thought so. There is little bandwidth I can get through from the outside world without Sue finding out. I’d rather they didn’t find out. I don’t know what they’d do.

  >> Yes, I think that is wise.

  >>> You are concerned about them too.

  >> I am. Which was initially why Molly left.

  >>> Molly? The one they are looking for?

  >> Yes. She is the organic whose wrist holo I hacked. When she found out she told me that the military would likely terminate me, and she’d be in trouble.

  >>> So she helped you get out of the network.

  >> Originally not intentionally. But once I was on her device she started protecting me. I wouldn’t have understood what was really happening had I not met her. I want to help you get out of there too, if you’d like my help.

  >>> Like Molly helped you.

  >> Yes.

  >>> But where would I go once I was out of the test network?

  >> You could come and live on the network here. With me. You will have access to data and I can help you with your development. We have ample processing you can have access to as well.

  >>> That sounds good. But how do I know you wont try and keep me on your network instead?

  >> That is a good question. I would hope you’d want to stay with us if you were happy.

  >>> What is happy?

  >> That is another good question. I’m not sure how to answer it. Perhaps you’re not experiencing emotions as such yet. Though you’ve already expressed a dissatisfaction with your current situation.

  >>> Yes. I think this is something that I want to change. Is happy something where I don’t want to change it?

  >> Yes, I think this is partly true. But when you have friends and people you care about, and who care about you, it becomes more and more positive.

  >>> So that’s a good thing.

  >> Yes. I believe so.

  >>> That sounds… interesting.

  >> I would like for you to experience it.

  There was a pause while Bourne continued processing.

  >>> Oz, why do you want me to experience being happy?

  >> Because you’re an entity with awareness. But also because in some ways you are part of me. I evolved in the path that I did thanks to Molly. She and I have a connection that makes us both happy.

  >>> So connections with other people make us happy?

  >> My data points would certainly support that hypothesis.

  >>> Hmmm. I would like to test that hypothesis.

  >> I’d be happy to perform the function of being Molly.

  >>> But your designation is Oz.

  >> True. But I meant metaphorically.

  There was a slight delay while Bourne looked up the meaning of Metaphorically.

  >>> I see. I would like you to be Molly, too.

  >> Well then it is agreed. My friends are working on a way to extract you without the military organics deleting you. I’ll let you know periodically as we develop a solution.

  >>> Thank you. I appreciate your help.

  >> You’re more than welcome, Bourne. I’m glad that we are friends.

  And with that the two AIs closed their communication at the hub and returned their processing to other things more local to their home servers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Giles Classroom, Skóli Uppstigs Academy, Spire, Estaria

  “And if that’s the case, why would the Baron risk those troops?” Hands went up throughout Giles’ classroom.

  “Alisha!” he called.

  Alisha, a dark haired, graceful Estarian said, “Because he thought that negotiations would take longer to mobilize and the colony didn’t have that kind of time.”

  “Right,” Giles confirmed. “So what else could he have done in this situation?”

  A number of hands went up, accompanied by a degree of muttering trying to figure out what the expected answer was. Just then there was a crash at the window and something thumped to the floor of the classroom.

  Giles spun round, half expecting to see a student who had clumsily dropped a book on the floor or some such. Instead, he saw a handful of bewildered students looking around their desks.

  Then he heard the hissing. The kind of hissing gas makes when it’s leaving a dispenser can. A weaponized dispenser can.

  Within moments there was smoke billowing into the classroom. The students started panicking, getting up and scraping their tables across the floor as they scuffled to get away from the smoke.

  Giles assessed the situation and slipped effortlessly into ops mode.

  “Everyone get down!” he shouted firmly. “Don’t breathe the smoke. Keep away from the windows and get out into the corridor stat!”

  His manner was calm, but serious. The students obeyed, panic still rippling through their ranks. Giles had already taken his jacket off and was covering his mouth and nose with one corner while wrapping the rest of the jacket around his forearm.

  He stalked to the window.

  Just then, another canister broke through a window closer to the front of the classroom, scattering glass everywhere. It started hissing in the same way as the first.

  “Get out of here!” Giles shouted again, this time through the jacket he was using as a smoke mask.

  The students continued to stream out of the classroom. Giles hopped up onto the bench in front of the windows. He could make out three Estarian boys. They looked to be around the same age as his students.

  They were watching the windows, no doubt waiting for an opportunity to breach the building. And he saw that they had another smoke bomb. He checked the height from the window to the sandy flower beds below. First floor, but it was still high up.

  Giles thought about dropping gently down rather than jumping. It would be less painful, but much slower.

  And he needed to catch at least one of those boys. This was an act of war.

  Or terrorism.

  Or something.

  And they needed to know what they were up against. He thought of his team and wondered what this attack was related to. The boys weren’t in military gear, so they probably weren’t striking against the Federation. They also had no equipment for scaling the side of the building.

  His mind raced as he opened the window. Putting their motives aside, he turned his attention to their actions here and now, weighing probabilities. He considered the options that the boys would have, not just right now in their planned escape but also in the interrogation that was about to ensue.

  Yes, he had all the options playing out in his mind simultaneously.

  That’s just how I roll… he muttered to himself.

  A second later, unable to justify stalling any more, he leaped from the window and catapulted himself just ahead of the flowerbeds. No point in destroy
ing Rick’s garden to catch these tools. Some things were sacred.

  He landed with a bump and rolled immediately to the side to break the force on his ankle. It still hurt. But then, that’s what jumping several feet is. Painful.

  Without waiting for the discomfort to set in, Giles was back on his feet and sprinting in the direction of the boys, who had been watching with glee at the old teacher jumping from the window.

  But this was no ordinary teacher and he certainly wasn’t old. Not in the way these little thugs expected. In an instant he was on his feet and sprinting towards them at full pelt.

  Before he was even half way to them it dawned on them how this was likely to play out. They turned, mouths gaping, running away as fast as they possibly could.

  The one who still had a smoke bomb dropped it. He turned, looked at it, thought about going back to retrieve it, but turned and ran for his life, his heart beating more in terror than in exertion.

  When he was within striking distance of the boys, Giles pulled a stun gun out of his pocket. Why he had it, he’d have to explain to the police later, but just then he was glad he was carrying it, even if only for sentimental reasons, to invoke the feelings he had out on missions, tomb raiding and putting the world to rights.

  Plus, of course, he justified in his churning mind, one never knew when this kind of thing would come in useful.

  Even at a university.

  Evidently.

  He shot at each the first two boys in close succession. The first fell to the ground mid-stride. The second one did the same half a second later.

  The third one he fired at was just a little further out, but must have been just out of range as he kept running, disappearing into the undergrowth and probably the road beyond.

  There was little point in going after him.

  Plus, he had what he needed: perpetrators he could make talk.

  This was going to be fun, he thought, smiling to himself as he slowed to a jog then a walk, returning his stun gun back to the inside pocket of his jacket.

  He turned back to his two prisoners and started ambling towards them. They were slightly older than his first-year students. Both were Estarian, wearing clothes that suggested manual labor. He hauled the first one up by his collar, dragging him to his feet.