Android Paradox (10 page)

“You look younger and younger every time I see you. Are you sure you’re not a newborn masquerading as a grown-up?”

“Why do you always show up behind me like that?”

Frantz gestured slightly at a wooded area behind them, then turned and walked toward it without looking back.

Shortcut waited a few minutes, making sure no one was watching. Then he jumped over the park bench and ran into the woods. He entered the dark shade of the forest and looked around.
 

“Where are you?” he cried.

He ran deeper into the woods, and a pebble hit him on the side of the head. “Ow!”

Frantz climbed down from a tree. “You’re such a doofus, even with your enhancements.”

“You could have hit my eye, you jerk! Then you would’ve had to pay for a new lens. And they’re not cheap, even with a UEA salary.”

The man held a finger to his lips. “You hear that?”

Shortcut looked around.

“It’s the sound of your stupidity.”

Shortcut turned red and stomped. “I’m not here to take abuse. Do you have my enhancements or not, Frantz?”

“I’ve got them,” Frantz said. “But they’re going to come at a cost. First, you accessed my office from an unsecured connection. Second, you left without cleaning up your tracks. An android was snooping around my office this morning and freaked me the hell out. Since you’re a UEA agent, naturally I’m blaming you for that.”

“Sorry,” Shortcut said. “Tell me who the android is and I’ll talk to him.”

“Her,” Frantz said. “Don’t always assume.”
 

“Whatever. Give me the enhancements.”

“Not before you tell me what you’re doing with your lenses.”

“None of your business,” Shortcut said.
 

Frantz stepped toward him, scowling. “You’re damn right it’s my business, seeing as I’m selling you this crap. If you blow your brain out trying to process something, they’re going to come after me. I’m not going to end up on a chain gang on a flying highway because of you. You’re just a peanut compared to the rest of my clients.”

Shortcut pushed Frantz back a step and shrugged, starting to walk away. “Fine. I don’t need your stupid enhancements. Refund my money and I’ll get them from someone else.”

Frantz ran in front of him. “Calm down. Quit being a baby. But listen: you can’t keep doing this to me.”

“Did you bring the stuff or not?”

Frantz grinned. He stuck a hand in his trench coat and pulled out a metal canister. “Give me your lens.”

Shortcut removed his lens and handed it to him. “Hurry up. I’ve got a mission to complete.”

Frantz stuck the lens in the canister, and it began to hum as an update scrolled across a screen on the side. “It’ll take a minute to download. While we’re waiting, how about you tell me what you’re doing?”

“You just won’t stop, will you? Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone.”

Frantz nodded, and Shortcut sighed nervously.

“I’m trying to become smarter.”

“Aren’t we all. No, really—what are you doing?”

“I’m serious. What do you think I’m an engineer for the UEA for? I love androids, and I want to be as smart as them some day.”

“And so you’re enhancing every part of your body to rival them, eh?”

Shortcut was silent.

Frantz took the lens out of the canister. “Upgrade complete.”

Shortcut parted his hair, revealing a small pinhole at the top of his head. Frantz pulled out a metal rod with a thin needle. He inserted it into the hole, and Shortcut winced. Then he hooked it up to the canister and pressed a button.
 

Shortcut felt warmth diffuse across his temples as the needle vibrated. Serenity expanded throughout his entire body. He felt a liquid being inserted into his head. He couldn’t quite figure out the sensation, though he’d felt it many times before—like saline solution mixed with lotion. It was lubricant for the nanobots. He felt a chilling sensation, then warmth as the tingling disappeared. His nose began to run, and Frantz handed him a tissue. He blew, streaking the tissue with gooey gel.

The canister beeped.

“All done, Einstein.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, before you go run off and try to save some damsel in distress, let’s take a moment to show you how this works. Even though I’m a secret dealer, I have a moral obligation to tell you how to use this and how you’ll screw yourself up if you don’t use it correctly.”

Shortcut checked the clock in his peripheral vision. “Hurry up.”

“This is an algorithm upgrade to your contacts. It installs a working algorithm that lies over the top of your lens. All you have to do is look at something, and the algorithm lens will make suggestions based on your previous choices. I had to condition the neurons in your brain to handle it, so there are more nanos inside you now. You’re going to feel weird for the next hour as they learn to play nice with your existing nanos, but it’ll pass.”

“How do I use the upgrade?”

“It’s awesome. For example, if you're in a crowded area and don’t feel safe—say you want to know if there are any child molesters eyeing you—all you have to do is look around. You’ll see small dots over people’s heads. Focus your retina on that dot, and you’ll get a dossier that links up to the UEA network where you can review all the publicly available information for that person. It’s only public records for now, but I’m working on that.”

“But how would I apply it to missions?”

“Let’s say you walk into a room and want to know how it was laid out or if there’s a secret hole in the wall. The algorithm can check the thickness of the walls. Or, it can also tell the difference between a human and an android. Sometimes we can’t tell on our own.”

“That would have been useful about an hour ago. What else can it do?”

“Maybe you walk into a room full of beautiful women. Want to see them in their underwear? Just think it.”

Shortcut’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“No, you pervert.”

Shortcut scowled at him. “I don’t need your sarcasm.”

“One last thing.”

“There are always caveats with you.”

“Two, actually. The first is, it’s not going to look like it works at first. It’s an algorithm and you haven’t used it yet. You’re going to get some strange recommendations, but don’t worry about it. The more you use it, the smarter it gets. So don’t go flaunting it right now or you’re going to make a fool of yourself.”

“Got it.”

“The second caveat is that you can’t overuse it. This is some serious stuff, man. It’s a wet connection between your brain and your eyes. You say you want to be like an android—well, this will help you. It’s meant to help you make better decisions, but it’s not a substitute for your brain. Don’t use it more than a few hours per day. Any more than that and you’ll burn out your lens. And don’t even get me started on the health effects—it’s not UEA approved, so you’re taking the risk that comes along with unapproved upgrades. This is special technology and it requires more time to fix, so if you burn out your lens, I’ll have to charge you a maintenance fee to fix it, and I’ll kick you off my patient list. Got it? Maintenance fee plus parts, plus overtime if it’s after four-thirty. And don’t call me in the middle of the night with any of the UEA official business crap like last time—”

“I had a test the next morning,” Shortcut said. “I’m an important person, man. It’s not like I didn’t pay you.”

“Yeah, but when you say yes to one thing, you say no to a million others. And last time, I had to say no to a meeting in an ice cream parlor.”

“Ice cream? You gave me hell last time because of freaking ice cream?”

“Ice cream with a very important associate who could have brought in more money than you. You’re lucky that you remind me of a dumber version of my younger self. If I didn’t sort of like you, you’d be nowhere.”

Shortcut decided not to respond and turned to walk away. “See you.”

 
Frantz laughed. “I’m sure you’ll use the algorithm in ways I never imagined. You’re my best client and my biggest headache. Make me proud. And remember: don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. But if you do, call me …”

Shortcut ignored him. He pulled up the coordinates of the hacker’s apartment and figured that X was almost there. A UEA hover cycle was waiting for him in the parking lot, and he hopped on and steered onto the looping highways toward the residential district.
 

Chapter 11

X stared up at a high-rise building with fifty stories. Birds chirped in the trees, and people walked in and out of the building. Unlike in the downtown district, the air here was more humid. He could taste food in the air, likely from people cooking with their kitchens open.
 

“Shortcut,” X said. “Can you hear me?”

“I’m on my way. Are you at the apartment?”

“In the parking lot. This is an affluent place.”

“Maybe the hacker’s boss lives there. Be careful.”

“When you get here, pay attention to who comes in and out.”

“Got it.”

X pulled sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. He straightened his cufflinks and started for the front door. It was a revolving door, and he entered a lobby with a crystal chandelier and a front desk.
 

An android secretary greeted him. “Welcome to the Weatheron. Who are you here to see?”

X flashed a UEA badge.

“Okay, sir. No identification needed. Thank you for your service.”

X continued past the front desk and looked at a directory of names. “Garson. Tenth floor-A.”

He entered an elevator and shot up to the tenth floor, stepping out into a long hallway of apartment doors. The carpet was fresh, in a floral pattern, and the walls were painted gray. LED lights lit up the baseboards. X followed the hallway around to illuminated steps that went up to the next half-level. He stopped in front of the hacker’s apartment door. He looked around, but no one was present. He scanned the floor and only saw an elderly woman watching a video drama in the apartment across the hall and a couple making love in the next apartment.
 

X kneeled and jimmied the lock. The door opened slowly, and he scanned the apartment to make sure it was empty.
 

He shut the door behind him. Inside, wall-to-wall windows overlooked the city, with the shopping district just on the horizon and the looping highways with flying cars weaving around it. The sky was a pale gray, full of clouds.
 

Then he noticed scraps all over the floor. Circuits, chips, connectors, plugs. It was as if the hacker had ripped out some of his innards. He picked up a connector, its jagged edges proving that it was broken beyond repair. He tossed it and tried to figure out why an android would have mutilated himself.

He entered the bedroom, which was filled with digital screens and a small bed.
 

He looked around for traps, but the apartment was surprisingly normal.
 

He sat down at a computer in the corner of the room. A metal rod with smooth, beveled edges hung from the monitor. He had never seen such a device before—it must have been one of the hacker’s inventions. The computer screen lit up and text flowed across it: ANDROID WINTER. PLEASE CONNECT TO THE NETWORK.

The metal rod moved from side to side. The only way to connect to the network was to hook his black box up to it. He opened the access panel on his skull and leaned forward—and then his algorithm chip buzzed. Since when did you have to connect to an apparatus to connect to a network?
 

The rod touched his circuit, but he pulled away. The rod came to life and jabbed at him to reestablish the connection. It sprouted several metal fingers that sparked electricity. He jumped back and shot the metal rod, sending it through the window.
 

“Very smart, X,” a voice said. A woman’s face appeared on the screen. It was shadowed against a dark background, and her voice was run through a vocal modifier that made it sound low and ominous. X tried to make out a background, but he couldn’t trace her. The only thing he noticed was a strand of curly hair hanging over her face. “An inch closer and I would have made you just as crazy as Brockway.”

“Who are you?”

“You’ll know who I am soon enough. But my question to you, love, is who do you want to be?”

X didn’t answer her.
 

“The UEA has been good to you, but not as good as I will be if you join me,” she said. “I don’t practice android lobotomies.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Identify yourself.”

X had a feeling that she already knew his credentials, but he was required to give them if asked.

“Xandifer Tyrone Crenshaw.”

“Who is your creator?”

“Dr. Roosevelt Crenshaw.”

“And what is your earliest memory?”

X cycled back to when he first started working for the UEA as an agent in training. He remembered meeting Fahrens for the first time, and Shortcut. “Working for the UEA.”

“And you remember nothing of a cozy home or a loving family, do you?”

X narrowed his eyes. She was talking nonsense.

“Funny how that works,” the woman said. “If only you knew your true roots. You’re just another casualty of the UEA.”

“Why have you done this? Why have you been programming androids to kill?”

“I’m programming them to live, X.”

She disconnected the broadcast, leaving X staring at the blank screen, no better off than when he entered.

Chapter 12

Back at the UEA headquarters, Shortcut checked X’s circuits.

“You’re okay,” he said. “I know you said that the metal arm touched you, but there haven’t been any changes to your systems. Your logs are clean.”

“You’re sure?” X asked.
 

“I’m positive,” Shortcut said. “Brockway’s and the mystery android’s black box had distinctive signs of forced entry. You don’t have that, X. As much as your algorithm chip is freaking out, you’re fine.”

Fahrens sighed with relief. “Thank God. I don’t see any reason to quarantine you, then.”

X stood up and buttoned his suit. “Good to know I’m still normal.”

“Yeah,” Shortcut said. “The last thing we need is for
you
to go rogue. You’re a walking singularity by yourself.”