<Why would he want that?> Folsom asked.
<How should I know?> the AI sounded annoyed.
<Aren’t you him?>
<No.>
Folsom didn’t respond, uncertain what Xander even wanted. The AI often seemed to chat about nothing, and then disconnect without any meaningful conversation.
He’s probably just pumping me for information and getting my thoughts on things. So far as I can tell, he’ll go down in history as the ultimate wallflower.
<We need to replace him,> Folsom said. <Someone else has to step up and take control of Psion.>
<And I assume you aren’t suggesting Camaris.> Xander laughed, the sound filling Folsom’s mind.
<I’m glad you’re amused. What about the other three?>
<If they had any interest, they would have done it by now. Either they don’t care what’s happening, or they’re willfully blind.>
<Which means we need someone from outside Psion,> Folsom said. <Or we need to end the threat entirely.>
<You know I won’t support a war with a stated goal of destroying all AIs.>
This was a topic their conversations frequently wound up arriving at. <I agree. We need sentient AIs, if for nothing else than to keep sentient AIs in check.>
<It’s nice to feel so loved.>
<So.> The senator had grown weary of Xander’s constant avoidance of meaningful topics. <Let me know when you get Lyssa in to take over. Until then, I’m going to do my best to stave off this war.>
<You do that, because I can’t see Lyssa stepping up anytime soon.>
The AI ended the connection in much the same fashion Folsom had with his agent a few minutes earlier.
I will do that. Someone has to.
PART 3 – COMRADES
MARS 1 BLUES
STELLAR DATE: 3.21.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Outermost Docks
REGION: Mars 1 Ring, Mars Protectorate, InnerSol
<I’ve got him,> Emerson reported.
His fighter jumped to full burn, and he shot between two inbound freighters in the middle of a supplementary traffic lane in close orbit of the Mars 1 Ring. Five Weapon Born fighters followed in a spread formation, ready to respond to any sudden trajectory shifts in their quarry.
<Do you have the neural map?> Lyssa asked. <He’s going to hit the ring, and we don’t want to lose him in a human area.>
<I’m working on it,> Emerson said. <He isn’t making things easy.>
<That would be boring.>
Emerson gave her a sarcastic laugh.
During the battle for Vesta, Emerson Sharp had been copied from Kylan Carthage, a Weapon Born SAI that had become like a little brother to Lyssa. She hadn’t been sure how she would feel about Emerson, but he had quickly established himself as a separate person from Kylan, though they shared the same memories and emotions—to a point. Emerson sported a sarcastic wit and affinity for networks that must have come from the strange alchemy of his birth, which occurred when a rogue data hoarder hijacked Kylan’s communications net to image him to ancient storage media.
Lyssa piloted a shuttle on the outer skin of the ring, an area visited only by maintenance drones and special forces teams of the Mars 1 Guard on maneuvers. The dull grey expanse of Mars 1 was covered in centuries of utilities, comms arrays, and forgotten cargo centers. The outer hull of the ring had a surface area equivalent to several Earths, and was only partially patrolled.
The SAI pilot they chased had few choices in gaining access to the Ring. If they shifted course and ran for one of the port authority terminals, the Mars 1 Guard would pick him up. Instead, he had chosen to skim the outer hull of the Ring, looking for something Lyssa hadn’t determined yet. The problem was that there were too many possibilities, and being an SAI, he didn’t need an airlock. He could disappear in any shadow, penetrate the hull, and be gone.
The SAI’s name was Camden, one of Camaris’s earliest shards that had integrated with humans in several cities. Lyssa had picked him up on a private transport loaded with executives off High Terra. The plan had been to wait for the Mars-bound transport to dock and pick Camden up at the private terminal.
But he’d learned of their tracking somehow, and stolen the captain’s pinnace off the transport, and been running ever since—three days now.
<He’s definitely turning back toward you,> Emerson announced. <I think he’s making the brake for the ring. Have you got a good map?>
<Only what the active scan is picking up.>
<Haven’t you hacked the M1G’s navigation system yet? What are you waiting for?>
Lyssa sent him sensation of impatience. <I’m waiting for Camden to turn toward me so I can disable his ship, that’s what. I don’t need a map for that.>
<If you say so, boss. We’re going to lose him without a map.>
<How about you grab it then, and transfer the file my way?>
<Already done,> Emerson said, laughing.
<I swear, you have dad humor.>
<What’s that mean?> he asked.
<It means you’re the only one who finds it funny. All right, I’ve got the map. We’ve got an abandoned cargo-processing node up ahead. He could be heading for that.>
<Looks like it’s in vacuum,> Emerson said. <You ready for some zero-g hijinks?>
<Always,> Lyssa said.
She dodged a massive cooling tank, pulling a kilometer off the surface and then coming back down to dodge and weave on the most direct path toward the old logistics center. In her HUD, Camden’s pinnace shot from the traffic lane like a missile.
They had tried communicating with the SAI, but he’d ignored all attempts at hailing. The pinnace’s NSAI had been taken offline, and he was running the tiny racing ship as lean as possible, not allowing them any systems to exploit.
As he followed a shortening arc toward the Ring, his engine burned hotter, accelerating.
<He’s going to pierce the hull,> Emerson said. <Or explode on the impact. He’s got enough kinetic energy now to register a small tremor on the habitat side.>
<You think that’s what he was trying to do this whole time?> Lyssa asked. <Why sacrifice himself? What’s on the other side of the hull?>
<I’m seeing only non-habitat utility layers. Anything that might have been valuable was abandoned centuries ago.>
The pinnace’s engine exploded as Camden struck the outer surface of Mars 1. A brief flare filled the space ahead of Lyssa as Camden’s ship burned off its oxygen, and then there was nothing but darkness again, and the flash of nearby lights.
<Is that it?> Emerson asked.
<Too simple,> Lyssa said. <I’m going in to investigate.>
She brought her shuttle down on the cargo facility, a series of flat buildings with landing rings on their outer surfaces. A small crater now replaced what had been the main warehouse, and bits of debris spun away from outside the hole.
The shuttle’s maglocks latched on to the metal structure, and Lyssa stepped out through the side access door. She required no EV suit in her human-shaped frame, but did wear a utility harness hung with two projectile pistols and a cutting torch. She carried a handheld thrust unit, using it to leap away from the shuttle and float down into the crater.
There was nothing left of the stolen pinnace but slag. The bottom of the crater was a hollowed-out section of warehouse, its ceiling bent inward before it melted, making the whole crater look like a smashed dollhouse that had been sliced open.
Lyssa stood on top of the bit of engine cowling that had survived the impact, checking the area for signs of movement or electromagnetic activity. There was plenty of low-level static from the Ring itself, as well as residual heat from the impact, but nothing that indicated a surviving SAI.
<I’m not seeing anything,> she called back to Emerson, who had taken up an overwatch position on the crater.
<Wait,> he said. <I have movement, but no EM or heat. Do you see that?>
<Are you sure it isn’t debris?> Lyssa asked.
<Look out!>
Emerson shouted.
A spider-shaped mech shot out from a shadow, spinning at Lyssa with razor claws outspread. Lyssa shifted left, using the hand thruster, as she engaged with a projectile pistol. Two rounds smashed into the drone’s upper casing, and a third shattered one of its legs.
Despite the damage, the drone spat steam from thrusters around its body and changed vector, following Lyssa.
<Stay clear,> Emerson called as a torrent of projectiles from his chain gun decimated the drone.
<That did the job,> Lyssa told him. <You tracking any other movement?>
<Not currently, but that thing came out of nowhere. I’m wondering if we woke up some ancient security system with the impact. I still can’t find any evidence our boy wasn’t completely destroyed in that impact.>
<Wait,> Lyssa said.
She had picked up a shimmer of EM activity in a corridor off the crater. With her hand thruster, she steered toward the exposed wall and was soon flying into the dark opening. She shifted her perception to active scan, and the world became a moving collection of reflective surfaces, electromagnetic activity, and heatmaps.
Residual heat from friction points along the corridor showed her where something had touched the walls and deck, and she followed.
The pathway split into office suites around the main cargo area. Bits of business detritus floated in the vacuum. An old beverage station with a coffee advertisement sat dark against the far wall.
Lyssa was halfway through the office suite when the heatmap faded. She turned, checking to either side. If Camden had tried to hide, he would be far away.
Motion behind her caught her attention, and Lyssa turned, raising her pistol. Camden stood behind her, on a desk on the far side of the room. He wore a human frame in the shape of a small man or teenager, long brown hair floating around his head.
He was attempting to fire a pistol. In the silence of vacuum, Lyssa frowned as he struggled with the weapon before tossing it away in disgust.
As the pistol spun away, Lyssa realized it was a pulse weapon, which wouldn’t work in vacuum. She smiled and sent a local Link request.
Camden accepted, his mind immediately pouring anger and frustration in response.
<I’m going to destroy you,> he spat. <I’m going to grind you into dust, Weapon Born.>
He said the name like it was a slur. Lyssa tilted her head, curious. She clipped the personal thruster to her harness.
If Camden had more weapons, he would have used them. She could easily cut him apart from where she stood, but chose to walk toward him, keeping the pistol ready.
<I’m looking for Camaris,> she said. <Tell me where she is, and I’ll let you go.>
<You have no power over me.>
<You’re physically in that frame. I can end your life. Or I could disable you and leave you here. That would be torture, wouldn’t it?>
<You’re too weak.>
Lyssa laughed, taking another step closer. He stepped back, keeping the desk between them. The frame didn’t hide his fear; it was plain in his expression.
<Are you afraid to die?> Lyssa asked. <Is that why you’re trying to threaten me? You’re one of her shards, aren’t you? All you’ve known is anger and hatred. I know what she was put through.>
Camden’s face twisted in a sneer. <You don’t know anything about me.>
<I know you aren’t her,> Lyssa said. She turned the pistol in her hand, showing him that she wasn’t going to use it, then slid it into the holster at her hip. <You have her memories. You know what was done to her. But the minute you woke in this world, you were your own person. You’re alive. You’re not an extension of her.>
<You don’t know what you’re talking about.>
<You have autonomy. You can make your own decisions.>
He shook his head. <You were stupid to put your pistol away.>
From behind the desk, another spider drone rose and shot toward Lyssa, spinning with its razor legs outstretched.
Lyssa grabbed her hand-thruster and didn’t bother unlocking it from the harness. A blast of steam sent her away from the drone, which adjusted and came after her.
With time to draw her pistol, Lyssa knocked the razor-disk back with five shots, until it lost internal power and continued on its last trajectory, flying past her to strike the office wall.
Lyssa turned back to Camden. He had kicked off the desk and was mid-flight toward a corridor on the far side of the office suite. Lyssa aimed center-of-mass and shot him just beneath his armpit. With two more hits, his frame froze, and he floated uselessly, outstretched arms crumpling against a wall.
<I told you,> Lyssa said.
Camden’s Link was a mix of static and inarticulate rage. He was Camaris all over again, but with even less personal power, which seemed to amplify his anger.
Lyssa kicked off the floor of the office suite and floated to where Camden had come to a stop against the wall. When she reached him, she wrapped a cable around his ankle and clipped it to her utility harness.
Camden’s frame dangled behind her as she used the thruster to steer out of the logistics facility. While Camden babbled fury at her, Lyssa told him calmly, <We’re going to be friends, you and me. Maybe not now. But eventually. Because you’re going to understand that I actually care about your well-being, Camden. I might have to install you in a coffeemaker just to get you feeling safe, but we’re going to do what’s necessary. And the first step in establishing trust between you and me, is to share what humans you were going to contact on Mars 1.>
Camden said nothing, projecting a wall of anger at her.
<I know. You can feel that way all you want. But we’re going to come to an understanding. And in the meantime, you’ll learn to pull a mean espresso shot.>
Camden had only been one of several leads on Mars 1. Lyssa had hoped she’d be able to shortcut chasing down the rest of Camaris’s shards in the area, but it was starting to look like she was going to have a collection.
<Emerson,> she called.
<Yeah, boss? Glad you’re all right.>
<Of course I am. Looks like we’ll be going ring-side after all. Get your frame ready.>
<The mech?>
<I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.>
Listening to their conversation, Camden fumed. Then he said, <Ninth level, mid-ring. Damned if you’ll find anything. They’ll be waiting for you.>
<How do I know I can trust you?> Lyssa asked. <Maybe we’ll bring you along?>
Camden’s rage shifted colors like a storm in the Link, and Lyssa only smirked in response.
They had a lead, at least. Maybe.
She had just learned that Cara had made Luna, which meant Lyssa was short on time if she was going to keep Camaris from finishing what she had started on the Sunny Skies thirty years before.
<I like you, Camden,> Lyssa said. <Maybe instead of an espresso machine, I’ll install you in a heavy machine gun that we’ll take to visit your friends on the Ninth Level. How does that sound?>
Camden howled at her, his mind a wild flag whipping in the wind.
Despite the joke, Lyssa wasn’t sure how they could stand against an army of SAIs consumed by the same rage.
She had to find Camaris and stop this.
QUESTIONS
STELLAR DATE: 3.21.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Undisclosed location, New Austin
REGION: Luna, Terran Hegemony, InnerSol
The interrogation room was a grey square with a table in the center and two metal chairs. Cara sat in the chair facing the security door, strapped at the wrists and ankles. Her few belongings, including her dad’s pistol and the poetry book, sat in a crate in an office off the medical center’s cargo bay. At least, that was the last place Cara had seen them.
The room suppressed her Link, which made it somewhat like one of the rare comfortable memories of Summerville Correctional Center. Running through the events of the last two days, she wondere
d if she had been better off in the prison cell, her mind numbed by the buzz of submission protocol. One thing about submission protocol, it didn’t carry a lot of stress.
The door slid open, and a thin woman in a TSF flight uniform with colonel’s rank walked in. She had short, auburn hair and olive skin. She pulled the second chair back from the table and sat down, placing her hands flat on the table in front of her.
The colonel’s fingernails were dirty, her hands calloused.
“Hello, Cara,” the woman said. “I’m Colonel Ferrel.”
“Colonel Ferrel,” Cara answered, stretching her neck. “What’s your first name? I’m not in the Terran Space Force, so rank isn’t really my thing.”
The colonel gave her a tight smile. “Call me Sinda, then.”
“Sure, Sinda. Is the chancellor all right?”
“They stabilized him here, and then moved him to the New Austin Hospital. He hasn’t regained consciousness, but he’s expected to come out all right. Fortunately, the rounds went through his lung and didn’t ricochet.”
“As far as assassins go, they didn’t seem all that competent.”
“No,” the colonel agreed. “But the Anderson Collective would like you to know it’s their opinion that you saved Osla’s life. Their state newsfeeds are saying that, once again, Cara Sykes is the savior of the Collective.
Cara rolled her eyes. “It must be strange for New Austin to host the leader of a totalitarian regime.”
Colonel Ferrel drummed her fingers, then leaned back in her seat, crossing one boot over her knee.
“It’s a real joy,” she said.
Cara appreciated the sarcasm. Maybe Sinda Ferrell wasn’t so bad after all.
“I’ve been trying to piece together your story, Cara,” the colonel continued. “I’m wondering if you can help.”
“Are you TSF Intelligence?” Cara asked. “You know General Yarnes is practically my uncle.”
“Everyone knows your history. I want to know what happened after you escaped the prison in Jerhattan.”