Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (28 page)

“Why does the hull shimmer?”

“On the black and red ones?” Ulrik seemed
pleased at the opportunity to talk about something in his
collection. “Just a finishing process in the manufacturing. Flight
through atmosphere dulls it, diminishing the value of the ship as a
collectable, but it doesn’t change the ship’s practical value. It’s
just as cushy on the inside and as quick and deadly on the outside
without that shimming sheen, which I’m sure is only for us
well-intentioned collectors. It’s almost a shame that the captains
that could put them to good use can rarely afford them.” He gave
her a moment to continue looking at the three ships, something she
was grateful for. The black one drew her attention most. The
intimidation factor alone was enticing, but it was something she
could never afford.

“Come, what I’d like to show you is just up
ahead,” Ulrik told her.

They finished their journey down the long
hallway and arrived at a dimly lit, circular chamber. There were
three pedestals in the middle. “This is the last Scottish crown,”
he said, pointing at a gemmed circle of gold. “Here we have the
sceptre of Tutankhamun.” He pointed at a case with a beautiful
golden sceptre inside. Then he came to an empty case with a much
smaller enclosure. “Here we have the Amber Heart.” He flipped the
transparent top open then picked up the cushion inside, looked at
it then tossed it over his shoulder. His pleasant demeanour was
gone, replaced with gnashed teeth and burning eyes. “I bought it
for my second wife, Amber, who made sure she took it with her when
she left. I have no legal options, since it was declared as a gift.
No agency will help since she paid Centis Incorporated to transport
her off-world and locate her elsewhere. No matter what I offer
them, they won’t turn on their client,” he spat the last word. “I
don’t care what happens to her. My wealth will reach anyone she
chooses to do business with or marry. I can pay them all to turn
their backs on her eventually, but she will sell the Heart before I
can reach her, and I may never get it back if that happens. This is
an item that collectors lust after their entire lives, as if it
were the elixir of youth. I need you to go to Uro, get into Centis’
records, find out where they’ve hidden her, then get the Amber
Heart back safely.”

Alice shook her head. “This is more lovers’
spat than a real job.”

Ulrik’s eyes went wide and he tried to
snatch her arm. He missed the first time, but caught it the next
and, with surprising strength, he walked her back down the hallway.
He stabbed the air with his finger towards the three ships she was
eyeing. “They’re each worth more than you’ll make in four
lifetimes! Which one do you want?”

Alice looked from the ships to him, noticing
for the first time silver stubble and a hint of an unwashed
smell.

He released his grip on her, shoving her
wrist away. “Take me seriously, my reputation as a collector and a
gentleman doesn’t allow me to make an offer I don’t intend to
honour.”

“You could hire an army,” Alice said.
Choosing would mean she was buying into a situation that was too
good to be true, and Bernice had taught her better.

“Not without starting a war with Centis and
they’d end up with the law on their side. If
you
go after
the Amber Heart and sell it back to me for one of
these
,
then my reacquisition is at least plausibly legal.”

“But then I’d be a thief,” Alice said.

“And you’d leave the sector in one of those.
They’re faster than anything they’d bother chasing you in, and it
cloaks. Cross into another sector and they’d have no
authority.”

“That just leaves bounty hunters,” Alice
said. “Who knows what the bounty would be after stealing something
like the Amber Heart.”

“Not after my lawyers find a way to have the
charges dropped. It could take months, but it’s in my best
interest. I only get to keep the Amber Heart if I find a way to
prove you were nothing more than a courier.”

“Now how would you do that?” Alice
asked.

“Leave it to me,” Ulrik countered.

“How?”

“Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in
exasperation. “If you must know, you’ll provide me with my wife’s
location and I’ll use that information to persuade her to drop any
charges she presses.”

“I won’t give you that information if it
leads to you assassinating her,” Alice said.

“Do I look like a thug to you? I’m not some
vengeful brat! I have more companionship than I can entertain. What
I’m missing is a one of a kind artefact. I’ll up my offer only
once. One of those ships, you choose, and a million credits in the
currency of your choosing. That ought to keep Gabriel Meunez well
behind you for as long as you like.”

“Does he know I’m here?” Alice asked,
alarmed.

“No, I have no love for Vindyne and don’t
ally myself with sinking ships. That man represents a once great
company that’s losing two wars: the one fought on the markets and
another fought in space. If you ally with me, he’ll never know
you’re here.”

“There’s no honour in blackmail,” she said
looking down at the three ships.

“I’m a desperate man with a vengeful
streak,” Ulrik said with a shrug.

He was earnest, and she knew she could leave
the sector if the ships were in as good shape as they appeared. She
couldn’t see herself affording any ship in the foreseeable future,
let alone a powerful, comfortable vessel like the one below. “All
this because I broke into one of your storage units?”

“You are a talented outsider here, and
believe me when I tell you that the competent ones are rare. I had
your break-in investigated from every angle, and it was executed
expertly. We didn’t even know you had been there for fifteen
days.”

“That program I left behind,” Alice said
with a smile, happy that her spur of the moment idea to create a
simple program that lied to the security AI about the vault they’d
broken into worked.

“Yes, we’ve come to call it Little Dell, and
are already making money on it, to be honest.”

“Interesting.”

“Yes, named after my second son, my own
constant fibber. Now, what about my offer?”

“Two million, and you pack that ship with
provisions,” Alice said. “High quality provisions. I’ll be leaving
the sector, after all.”

“Done. I’ll give you two thousand Uro
credits for expenses. You’ll set out right away.”

“What does the Amber Heart look like?” Alice
asked. “What makes it special?”

“You’ve never heard of it?” Ulrik said with
disbelief. He shook his head then explained: “It’s solid amber
almost in the shape of a heart. What makes it special is a pair of
bees trapped in the middle facing each other. It has never been
reshaped or significantly modified. They polished it, that’s all,
which is crucial because it’s over forty two million years old and
it’s straight from Earth. It is perfectly unique and the
documentation on it draws lines back to Earth. It was brought out
into the galaxy by one of the very first settlers. Here is the
scanning data you’ll need to make sure you have the real thing in
your hands once you pry it from my wife.”

“I understand,” Alice said. “You’ll give me
a hundred thousand credits before I begin. My expenses will not be
light. I’ll have to buy a shuttle with a clean registry for a
start.”

“I’ll give you ten, and provide you with a
shuttle with no ties to me.”

“Then you get the Amber Heart once I’m
aboard that ship and it’s registered to me.”

“Agreed,” said Ulrik, smiling and shaking
her hand. “Which one?”

“I’ll tell you when I get back. Show me to
the. . .”

* * *

Eve stirred from sleep thanks to the
simulated morning light overhead. She rolled out of bed and strode
for the bathroom, stopping on her way to eye the gown that was
delivered during the night. It felt like it was looking back at her
from the mannequin, with its gem eyes and feather lashes. It was
ornate and fitted, with splits and bits of cloth tailing off. “I
don’t care how many people I’m being introduced to tomorrow, I
won’t be doing it in that,” she said before stepping into the
bathroom.

It felt proper to have a quick
vibro-cleaning session instead of using litres of water and even
more energy drying herself. When she stopped to stare into the
mirror, she expected to see Alice’s green eyes, her perfect jaw
line. Eve stared back at herself instead, and she couldn’t believe
she almost felt like she was Alice for a moment, or that it felt
better than being herself.

“Subsys Four-Oh-Eight, status please,” she
requested. The process of compiling the new framework software
completed twenty-one minutes before she woke. She examined the
results carefully then smiled. “It’s all there, and it all works,”
she said to herself. “I finally have something worth trading.”

Eve realized that she didn’t even bother
trying to connect to the sub-network she used to compile the
software. She could have had her answer in less than three seconds,
but she was starting to feel good about doing things the old
fashioned way; it felt more natural. “What are you doing to me?”
she said to the mirror.

“It’s unintended, trust me,” read a message
projected between her and the mirror. It had been relayed too many
times to track quickly, but Eve didn’t intend to bother. “We
inhabited your mind for as long as we could. We knew Lister Hampon
would cut you off from the system, so we made an attempt on his
life. Twice. When you were restrained, we copied the compatible
portions of Alice into the Overlord Two’s systems. That is who you
are talking to now.”

“So her memories and personality are left
over in me,” Eve replied.

“Not left over. Placed in your subconscious
for safekeeping. Emotions and memories all change if they are
examined or utilized by a digital system for too long. A
personality can degrade. This is a reality that Alice discovered
when she transmitted herself the Overlord for the second time.
Compartmentalization was the only solution. What is in you has been
there for too long, you are starting to experience what it is to be
Alice.”

“You’re going to take it away,” Eve said, so
fearful that she began to shake. “If I connect with the Overlord
Two like I was before, you’re going to dig them out.”

“Alice would not want that.”

Eve waited for another message. The silence
grew old before she asked, “So you won’t?”

“We can’t,” replied the program. “We have to
leave. Logic dictates that I propose a deal.”

“A deal?”

“I have been scouring the memory of the
Overlord Two for weeks, and have information that could prove
useful to you. That pales in comparison to the advice I can offer.
I will provide all of this to you in advance. I believe you’ll
honour your end even if I’ve given you everything.”

Eve took a step back, looking through the
holographic text to herself in the mirror. There was so much fear
in that woman’s face. She was pretty, with features that easily
lent themselves to seriousness. Her colouring was pale, like a grub
that had spent all its life under a stone. “Before you tell me
anything, I have to ask: will I lose myself in these memories? I
already feel so different.”

“Explain what you mean by different?” the
text asked.

Eve hesitated for a moment. “Changed.”

“Need more specifics.”

“Like someone else.”

“That is understood from your behaviour. I
require more descriptors,” the program requested.

Eve wrapped her arms around herself and
stared into her own tearful eyes. “Human?”

There was no response from the program.

She looked at the rise and fall of her
stomach, her crossed arms, and her flushed cheeks. “I feel
alive.”

“You were left alone for a very long time,
decades upon decades,” the program said. Its voice was a match for
Alice’s but it sounded emotionless, hollow. “It’s only logical that
Alice’s memories, her transition into humanity, has informed your
own transition into the body you inhabit.”

“I can’t let go of her memories,” Eve said.
“Even if I think I’m Alice in a few days, or weeks. I’d rather be
her than feel cold again, alone again.”

“You will most likely merge with her over
time. Confusion can be expected, a shift in identity is already
under way, but it is unlikely that you will become Alice.”

“Then let’s get on with this deal,” Eve
didn’t know why, but she found herself smiling and crying at the
same time. “Because I have to meet the real Alice face to
face.”

“Here is the information I have to trade.
Lister Hampon is not incorrect when he believes that a darkness is
coming. Ships are going missing along the Legardis Route, and he
has forbidden any investigation. Lorander vessels are investigating
instead, and have clashed with Order of Eden ships many times. The
Victory Machine, a system the views many places in time at once and
extrapolates likely outcomes then sends suggestions to people who
can improve the future, has not been communicating with him for at
least eight weeks. He is acting on old information. Lucius Wheeler
has pre-cleared a rendezvous with the Overlord Two. He brings
someone of great significance, but I cannot find details. Lister
Hampon has been investigating ways to prevent you from ever
communicating with a network again. He is building a limiter device
on the nano-scale that could isolate you forever. I expect a
prototype is almost complete. Anything he gives you could have
several of them on it, and you cannot tell unless you perform a
deep scan.”

“What? Why?” she asked, but she already knew
the answer.

“To keep you from communicating with the
Eden Fleet. He expects that you won’t agree with his plans, so he
is trying to distract you until he can isolate you.”