Unstable Prototypes (21 page)

"I was created to care for and maintain
Karter and his facilities, responding to and interpreting natural
human interactions realistically and appropriately. I was also
designed to improve my capacity to perform my duties. It quickly
became clear that Karter's behavior tended toward
self-destructiveness, and his requests and comments were frequently
difficult to comprehend. In order to improve interaction, I needed
to attain a more complete understanding of human nature. I adapted
and improved my behavior to more accurately approximate that of a
human, and in doing so found that the concept of self is essential
for a properly functioning human psychology."

"So you want to be more human?"

"I am constantly attempting to improve my
ability to perform my assigned tasks. This requires a deep
understanding of humanity. Axiomatically speaking, 'It takes one to
know one.' As my behavioral adaptations developed, I was pleased to
find that concepts like self respect, pride, and other previously
poorly understood human behaviors began to present themselves in my
own behavior."

"Like resentment and vengeance."

"Yes."

"So is it your ultimate goal to
be
human?"

"I absolutely do not aspire to actual,
biological humanity. The nature of my role would be comparatively
poorly served by a flesh and blood entity. A more accurate
statement of the desired outcome of my behavioral development is to
be regarded as a high quality control system and a high quality
person, either separately or simultaneously."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, mission
accomplished."

"Thank you, Lex. For the complement and for
the feedback. This has been a fruitful and stimulating
discussion."

"Glad to be of service," Lex said.

Ma more carefully positioned the slidepad on
his leg and continued the awkward process of assembling useful
statements. As she did, Lex attempted to prevent himself from
thinking about the observations she had made regarding his
relationship. It worked... for about twelve seconds.

Lex's mind was still stewing with Ma's
unintentional torture when they finally arrived at Maxis and
entered the landing queue. Out of habit, he flipped his ship's
transponder to a code appropriate for his make and model of ship
but not associated in any way with his actual life. It was a
somewhat sad fact that Lex was so thoroughly accustomed to faking
his credentials or otherwise skipping the standard landing
protocols that it had been well over a year since he had landed on
a planet utilizing proper procedure. Sadder still was the fact
that, beyond a few threatening emails, no one had done anything to
put a stop to it. It wasn't the sort of thing that gave one warm
and fuzzy feelings about the security precautions that were
supposed to be keeping the planet's citizens safe. Previously he'd
had to bluff his way through situations like this, but since he'd
moved to the SOB, Ma had set him up with a few "virtual
registries." The vehicular equivalent of alter egos, he could log
them at checkpoints without a second thought, since if he were
selected for a random code audit, it would turn up a perfectly
legitimate history and flight record, one of a few hundred Ma kept
on Karter's behalf.

Considering the fact that he was going to be
getting out of a ship with a man who had likely had his face
plastered all over media since his escape, Lex decided to skip the
transit space station and find an independent star dock that could
conceivably be persuaded to turn their cameras off and forget they
ever saw him. Predictably, Garotte knew just the place.

"Oof. Full gravity sure does suck after
you've been away from it for a while," Lex remarked, feeling a bit
heavy on his feet as he dropped a handful of chips into the landing
attendant's hand in exchange for a bout of amnesia.

"Only figuratively," Garotte said.

Bags and boxes were removed from the
ship.

"Please insert your hands-free devices," Ma
requested. "From this point forward I will broadcast my
communications silently to avoid drawing attention."

"Yes, because a black and white striped dog
tapping away at its own slidepad won't turn any heads whatsoever,"
quipped Garotte.

"For discretion, verbal communication will be
kept to a minimum," she added.

"Okay, so here is the food and water for her.
Just give it to her when she asks for it. Do you want the rest of
these slidepads?"

"I'll take one. Assuming I am able to
liberate Silo, it will come in handy. Keep the frozen food, and the
water. I shan't be needing them. I've no intention of bringing the
little creature along. She is your responsibility."

"What?" Lex asked.

Ma started swiping at her slidepad.

"I cannot envision any situation where that
bizarre creature could be anything but a liability to me."

"This whole thing was her idea! You can't
just ditch her!"

"Remember, my boy: goal-oriented," he said,
shouldering his bag and pacing away.

Ma looked up from the device. She didn't seem
particularly upset. After another glance, she brought up a menu and
tapped an entry.

"Your accounts with pending payment from
Karter have just been locked," she remarked.

Garotte stopped in his tracks.

"What was that?"

"Your only safely accessible source of funds
for this mission or any subsequent actions is no longer available
to you."

"I
need
that money to perform this
mission!"

"Your methods and judgment have both become a
concern for me. I am not comfortable permitting you to act on my
behalf without my supervision."

"You would rather let the terrorists keep
your master than let me do this on my own?"

"I am confident that you are wise enough to
take me with you rather than abandon the mission."

Garotte glared at the little creature. She
looked back at him evenly. The staring match continued for nearly a
minute before the man finally relented.

"Give me the blasted burritos," he
grumbled.

"Here you go. Here's her leash, too, and the
rest of that wacky stuff she asked for," Lex laughed, handing over
the items in a Cost-Mart bag, "And a word of advice? Things will go
much more smoothly for you if you treat her with a little
respect."

"And a word of advice to you. The day you
start treating genetically malformed woodland creatures loaded with
faulty software with respect is the day you renounce your sanity,"
he said.

"Goodbye, Lex. I will notify you regarding
the results of the mission. Though it saddens me that you will not
be joining us, your role was small but essential, and I thank you
for it. Consider any remaining money you were given to be payment
for your inconvenience. Consider utilizing one of the remaining
slidepads as an upgrade over your own, which is rather outdated,"
Ma said, trotting off after Garotte, who was storming away.

"Good luck!" he called after them.

As the unusual pair walked away, Lex
investigated the damage to the SOB. The torch had left a mark, but
as a black burn on a black paint job it wouldn't stand out much to
anyone but Lex himself. Evidently the gang had tried to hack their
way through the hull with a pick ax or something as well, since a
few silver marks had been gouged into the surface.

"Look what happened to you, buddy," he said
to the ship, rubbing at the burn with his thumb, "This is what
happens. You get mixed up with people like that and you get banged
up. Now you aren't in mint condition anymore." He licked his thumb
and rubbed at the burn again, to no avail. "Ah, don't worry about
it. Nobody likes a showroom ship anyway. You gotta get out there
and rev those engines. And it's been a while since we did that,
huh? Basically not since we had to hightail it away from VC
headquarters after that last fiasco. … God, has it been that
long?"

He glanced after the others, who had reached
the edge of the hangar and were just turning down the hall. Ma
glanced in his direction and made eye contact briefly before
disappearing around the bend. Lex shook his head and climbed back
into the ship. He punched in a few commands to warm up the engines.
Then he shook his head some more, as though if he shook hard enough
he could dislodge some of the more troubling thoughts that were
drifting around his head. He guided his ship off of the pad and out
of the hangar, heading for the edge of the atmosphere and running
through various system checks to keep his mind occupied.
Temperature readings were good. Electrical systems were good. No
amount of monotonous mental autopilot could keep his mind from
falling back into the pit he'd been hoping to keep it out of.
Finally he dug into his pocket and pulled out the slidepad.

"Call Mitch," he said.

The screen cycled to her contact entry,
playing through a string of video clips of her as the words
"Establishing Connection" pulsed across the bottom of the display.
After a few seconds, a video window winked open, showing a
completely black rectangle. There was the sound of fumbling,
accompanied by a slurred profanity or two. Finally Michella's face
came into view. She was sleepy-eyed, disheveled, and her face was
lit with the sickly blue glow from the screen. Somehow she managed
to be as beautiful as ever. A tired smile came to her face.

"Hey Trev," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry babe. What time is it there?"
he said.

She squinted at the screen. "I don't know. I
don't have my glasses on. Two thirty, I think."

"I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No, that's okay. What's up?"

"Well... my charter job got cut short, and my
other jobs all think I'm gone for another week or so. I figured,
since I've got the ship out and about, and I've got my bag packed,
and it's been a while since I got to see you..."

"You're gonna come to the convention!" she
said excitedly.

"Screw the convention, I'm coming to see
you,
" he said.

She squealed with delight. "When are you
getting here?"

"I'll head your way right now. Say... three
days?"

"Great! I'll get you set up with a room. VIP
access to the rest of the convention. There are some great
restaurants here, I'll get reservations and-"

"Just so long as you and I get a little time
alone, too."

She let out a low, sultry hum.

"Oh, there'll be plenty of that," she
murmured. "My room has a hot tub."

Lex's eye twitched. "I'll be there in
twenty-four hours."

Michella giggled. "See you soon, Trev."

"Not soon enough, babe."

She closed the connection. Lex plotted a
course that was suicidally direct.

"Let's go, SOB. I've got a date with an
angel," he said, punching it into FTL.

#

Back on the surface of Maxis, Garotte and Ma
were heading toward the center of town. The place was remarkably
earth-like. Gravity was almost precisely 1g. Atmospheric pressure
and composition were right where they should be. It was even a
similar diameter. The only exceptions were the sun, which trended a
bit closer to the red end of the spectrum, and the water supply,
which was fairly limited. Due to these problems, it had been low on
the list of terraforming candidates. Once VectorCorp installed a
new monitored route that ran through that area of space, though,
that changed. The decade or so since had seen the first stages of
conversion to what the developers referred to as "human compatible
micro-environments" begin to take hold. The end result was a bit
like the early days of Las Vegas, both in layout and in climate.
Tiny, isolated chunks of the planet were lush and thriving, while
hundreds of kilometers all around were completely barren desert
with scattered signs counting down the distance remaining to the
next flush toilet. Currently they were walking down a fairly
generic street with little traffic and large, new buildings lining
it, many waiting to be occupied for the first time. The sidewalks
and street were wide, built to accommodate a far greater population
than they'd managed to attract thus far, but those shops that were
open were clean and seemed to be doing quite well.

Garotte, for a man experiencing his first few
moments of freedom on a civilized planet in three years, was not
happy. The source of his unhappiness was tapping along the sidewalk
behind him. Strictly speaking, he wasn't terribly upset at having
to take her along. His primary issue was the relative ease at which
she had been able to force him to do so. He reached into his
pocket, grimaced, and ducked down an alley, angrily beckoning the
little creature to follow. When they were far enough from the
street to have a degree of privacy, Ma lowered the slidepad to the
ground carefully and looked up to him, panting heavily in the
midday heat.

"I need money," he stated.

"How much money do you require, for what
purpose, and in what form?" she replied from her prepared list.

"Enough to buy a bloody ship, preferably in
an electronic format that will not trigger any warning flags. That
account you locked would be ideal."

"A secondary account has been prepared and
fifteen million credits have been deposited into it. I shall
transfer all necessary credentials to your slidepad now," she said,
adding with an additional gesture, "Your coarse language is not
called for, Mr. Garotte."

"I'm asking a rodent for permission to spend
money I've already earned. I'd say that jolly well calls for some
coarse language," he muttered.

"Please be aware that funks have exceptional
hearing," Ma said.

"I am quite aware." He pulled up the freshly
installed identity. "Gervais Pilkington? My name is Gervais
Pilkington?"

"Your identity is Gervais 'Gerry' Pilkington
of Abingdon, Oxfordshire, England, Planet Earth. You are recently
divorced with two children, Richard and -"