Crash dropped the common Rack Thirteen hangouts on the map. None aligned with Tally’s favorite login spots.
Then he recalled one of the many times he’d argued with Tally about a puzzle, and remembered the Cyberpuke telling him that he knew what he was talking about because he worked for a shipping company. The problem had contained a variation of the Drunkard’s Walk, a probability distribution function.
Crash vividly recalled Tally telling him, ‘We send ships out to Mars 1 all the time.’
With a few updates to his NSAI, Crash had a list of local logistics companies. By matching the list with his log data, he found an overlap.
<Stop!> he shouted. <Turn around.>
Silver came to a skidding halt, the mech digging long gouges in the deck. <Where to?> she called, mimicking a taxi driver.
<Carthage Logistics,> Crash said. <Back toward the outer main docks. He works in their accounts payable department.>
<Wouldn’t he be wherever Rack Thirteen is hiding out?>
That was a good question. Rack Thirteen had an extensive hangout in the sketchiest section of Cruithne. Ngoba’s Lowspin District was sparkling and safe in comparison, and most respectable people avoided Lowspin.
<I would bet they don’t even know who he is,> Crash said. <He’s a hacker. He can work from anywhere.>
<We’d better be sure,> Silver said. <I’m showing several inbound units moving toward our location. The TSF has ground units coming up here. We get bogged down, and we’re going to lose the mech.>
<I have a potential solution,> Crash said.
He mulled over the problem for a second as Silver bounded back down the corridor. They blew past two portable barricades manned by terrified soldiers. Projectiles glanced off the panther as they passed.
<Then use it!> Silver said.
Crash logged into the Puzzlehead forum and dropped a theorem in the New Puzzles section. He had solved it a long time ago, but had saved it because he liked the novel way it assumed player knowledge.
<I’m stumped,> Crash wrote in the post. <A little help?>
He was taking a risk by using his actual profile, since it had already been burned by Tally, but he figured the Cyberpuke wouldn’t be able to pass up the opportunity to make him look stupid.
In the next few seconds, the diehards came online and started taking passes at the puzzle. Crash watched the forum logs until Tally appeared, using his login credential.
Crash added the credential to his station schematic and verified its location at Carthage Logistics.
<There it is!> he announced gleefully. <Let’s go get him.>
In ten minutes, they reached the utilitarian offices of the logistics company, which faced out over a series of repair bays full of vessels in dry dock.
Silver burst through the sliding front doors, plas and steel shattering everywhere, and smashed into the reception desk. Employees fled in terror.
Crash had already shared the exact location of Tally’s terminal. He had been monitoring activity at the site, verifying that Tally wasn’t bouncing his login from another location on Cruithne. In addition to the Puzzleheads forum, the terminal was in communication with a location in the Rack Thirteen sector, and pulling data from several pornographic VR lounges.
The mech dented corridor walls as it stalked rapidly through the corporate office, arriving at a cubicle farm in the middle of the suite. With a quick swipe of its right claw, Silver tore down the door to a closet-shaped cubicle, revealing a cluttered office filled with terminals, a young man sprawled in the only chair.
In the forum, Tally had already posted a series of derogatory questions calling Crash’s basic intelligence into question.
Just as the mech loomed over the young man’s oblivious form, Tally posted in the forum for all to read:
<What else would I expect from a dumb bird. You all know he’s a dumb parrot, right? A mutant. He doesn’t even have the answer to this puzzle.>
‘Dumb’ in this context was a human without a Link, a person who was either too poor or stupid to understand the benefits of interconnection.
The flowing debate around Crash’s new puzzle stopped. A few queries tagged his anonymous username, and then a long-time user wrote:
<Crash, if this is you, I love you, man. You’re the best.>
<This is Crash?> another asked. <Crash is a Puzzlehead?>
<Damn, no wonder he always has all the answers,> another said.
The forum overflowed with support. Crash’s burst of anger over being outed was tempered by the messages that continued to fill the channel. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the puzzle altogether, and Tally with it.
Crash drew their attention back to the problem by displaying the number tables in the middle of the forum’s general channel. Hundreds of Puzzleheads shifted their attention as he expertly solved the cypher and then fed those results into the second stage, and then the third, rotating the puzzle as he worked. Layers of math built on each other.
<He’s just wasting time!> Tally shouted.
<Then solve it,> Crash said calmly. <I’ve done most of it for you. Here, it’s my gift.>
Tally’s rage splattered all over the forum as his Link flooded with frustration. One thing the Puzzleheads hated was public displays of lost control. The forum was for debate, sharing ideas, making adroit jabs. Tally was destroying any cred he had, no matter how long he’d been a member.
<I’ll wait,> Crash offered.
Tally tried to scatter what Crash had finished so far, but an admin locked the channel. Crash found he was free to finish the problem, and he did as laughter and upvotes rose around him.
The finished proof rotated like a crystal castle in the center of the forum, data shimmering in its planes.
Silver raised a claw and delicately lowered it toward the back of the young man’s head. In a few centimeters, she could end his life. She froze the mech’s front leg, waiting.
<Crash?> she asked. <What do you want to do?>
All the conversations with Ngoba about how safe any parrot would be in the world came rushing back through Crash’s mind. He had always been afraid that the terrible, unsafe world would mean his people would always need to live in secrecy, depending on humans for their survival.
The fight against the mercs in Night Park had shown him he could defend his people, and now this showed him that he might not have to.
<It’s me,> he admitted to the group.
<It’s him!> a voice shouted in the forum. <It’s Crash! How cool is this? Puzzleheads forever!>
<Puzzleheads forever!> went the call.
<Why do you look so pleased with yourself?> Silver asked.
Crash gave her a bashful look, blinking. <I’ll have to explain later.>
<What do you want to do with this one? He did try to kill us.>
<Yes, he did,> Crash said. <Give him a little love bite.>
While the mech didn’t have a beak to deliver a love bite, Silver did tap the human’s forehead just enough to make him splutter awake. As he jerked to his feet and spun to face the mech, she bumped him with the panther’s blunt muzzle and knocked him back into his cluttered desk. Records and materials scattered everywhere as he struggled to stay upright, but Silver pushed forward, bending him back over the worksurface.
A quick scan of the workspace showed his name wasn’t Tally—which Crash supposed was a play on being an accountant—but Ashford.
Ashford Crimley slid to his knees in his cubicle, staring up at the shipkiller’s blank face with tears in his eyes. He brought his hands up in a begging gesture, and lowered his face.
“I know it’s you,” he blubbered. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did that. Please don’t kill me.”
“There’s only one way you’re going to survive this,” Crash said through the mech’s external speaker.
“Anything!” Ashfor
d shouted, spraying spittle. “Anything, just tell me. I promise.”
<So much for the cruel Cyberpuke,> Silver said.
“Give me your access codes to Rack Thirteen’s systems,” Crash said.
“They’ll kill me!”
Silver raised a single claw and pushed it point-downward into Ashford’s forehead. The point penetrated into the bone of his skull, and he screamed.
<Oops,> Silver said, drawing the claw back a few centimeters.
Blood immediately oozed from the wound.
“Here they are,” Ashford said, trembling uncontrollably. “Here they are. I’m sending them now.”
“Good,” Crash said.
“That’s it? You’ll let me live?”
The image of the blasted ravens filled Crash’s thoughts, but he stilled himself. He couldn’t allow human motivations to invade his thoughts. He was a parrot.
“Go to sleep,” Crash said. “And remember, I’m watching you.”
<What does that mean?> Silver asked.
<It means smack him in the head and knock him unconscious,> Crash told her.
<Oh! That sounds fun.>
<Then do it already.>
Silver knocked Ashford in the side of the head with the mech’s massive paw, and his head bounced against his desk. He slid to the floor, mouth leaking saliva.
Silver backed out of the cubicle and turned in the corridor. The sound of TSF soldiers shouting commands to each other floated from the front of the office suite.
<Looks like we have visitors,> Silver said. <Should we fight them?>
<We could,> Crash said. <But we’re also in a shipkiller. We could just dig a hole in the deck and go around.>
<That doesn’t sound like much fun.>
<Doing the right thing usually isn’t,> Crash said.
<You’re such a parrot,> Silver chided.
<Yes, I am,> he said. <Let’s get out of here, please.>
Silver giggled. Her avatar nuzzled against him, and Crash let her, enjoying the feeling a great deal more than when Celest had tried it. Something about Silver’s affection still felt strange, but also like he’d earned it.
<Here we go!> she shouted.
The mech hunched over, head pointed toward the deck, and drove its front claws into the metal, which split like fabric. In two more slashes, it had dropped into the level below, and they were running along corridors again.
<What should we do with this thing?> Silver asked. <It’s not like we can keep a shipkiller.>
<Of course, we can,> Crash said. <We’ll park it in front of the fountain. The kids can play on it.>
Silver’s laughter echoed pleasurably in his Link.
UNCERTAIN SAFETY
STELLAR DATE: 09.17.3011 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Cruithne Station, Fugia Wong’s Workshop
REGION: Terran Hegemony, InnerSol
Taking a step back from the pedestal, Fugia lowered her silver visor to study the SAI’s cube. Crash watched her nod to herself, apparently pleased with her work.
Fugia raised the visor again, using it to push her black hair out of her eyes. She glanced at Ngoba standing a meter away, her lips curling up in a slight smile.
“You want the honors?” she asked.
Ngoba shook his head. “I think it should be Crash, of course.”
“Crash?” Fugia asked.
They were standing in Fugia’s workshop; benches covered in half-finished projects lined the walls. Glimmering filament hung from open casings, some projects easily determined, while others could have been explosives. Fugia was not above a little weapons development on the side.
<I just sent you the code for the activation switch,> Fugia said over the Link. <You want the honors?>
<Of course he does,> Silver said. She was perched on a rack, holding the limp body of an attack mech. <Wake her up, Crash. I want to meet your crush.>
<I don’t have a crush,> Crash said, sounding more irritated than he intended.
Silver teased him with a loud squawk as she fluttered her wings, stretching. Her eyes were especially gold at the moment.
<Fine,> Crash said.
He accessed the power control in the pedestal, taking a second to study the cradle that Fugia had built to hold Celest. There was a local Link connection, he noticed, but Fugia still had admin control of the external connection.
<She’s a prisoner,> he said.
Fugia frowned. <You mean the external gateway? That’s a precaution. We don’t know what we’re dealing with exactly. I’m not giving her free reign to do whatever she wants.>
<Why not?> he asked.
<Because she stole millions from Rack Thirteen, which caused other people to try to kill you and yours. She still has to answer to us.>
<I won’t hold her prisoner,> Crash said. <Open the external connection. She’ll stay.>
<You really do have a crush on her,> Silver said, an edge of anger entering her voice.
<No! All I know is that I’m not going to hold another person prisoner. What are we going to do, kill her? We lost our own today, but they died defending our home. They gave their lives of their own free will. I would do the same. I won’t strip freedom from another.>
<Crash,> Ngoba said gently. <It’s just a precaution. We’ll let her free as soon as we know she isn’t holding some death trigger we don’t know about.>
Crash searched his feelings. Why did he feel so strongly about this? He didn’t know what Celest would do when they woke her, and she had basically attacked him once already, when he’d approached her node on the Endless Surcease. She had killed scores of Rack Thirteen humans, and used the Puzzleheads for her own ends.
Still, he wouldn’t be party to the enslavement of another.
<Didn’t you tell me you were once in a situation just like this, Ngoba?> Crash asked. <When you woke up the Weapon Born Tristan? You argued with Petral Dulan that he would come back, and he did. Besides, she can’t physically leave.>
Ngoba gave a low laugh. <There you go, schooling me on my own ideals. You know, it’s tough having a parrot for a conscience.> He put his hands on his hips. <He’s right, Fugia. We shouldn’t hold the SAI captive.>
Fugia chewed her lip, looking from Ngoba to Crash. <Fine. But just so you know, I’ve got at least four different ways to incinerate that node here in my shop.>
<I accept that,> Crash said.
Fugia looked at the ceiling as she performed a mental operation.
Through his connection with the pedestal, Crash observed as the system’s power cycled. When the rig came back online, it was open to the public network.
Crash activated the node’s power.
Flickers of blue light shot through the cube as Celest woke. A sensation of frozen panic hit the local Link, until she got her bearings and calmed down.
<Who are you people?> she demanded. <Where am I?>
Crash realized abruptly that he had never told Celest his identity. She still didn’t know he was a parrot.
He tilted his head, blinking. Then he released a huge sigh of relief.
<What is it?> Silver asked.
<I never told her who I am.>
<Are you going to tell her now?> Fugia interjected. She and Ngoba shared the same Link channel.
Crash considered the choice, then said, <No. I don’t think I should. I know why she stole the money. She wants to buy two shards that were copied from her. They’re like her only family.>
<So what should we do?> Silver asked.
<We get rid of her,> Fugia said. Switching to the pedestal’s channel, she told Celest, <My name is Fugia Wong. I’m a technician. You were recovered from the wreckage of a ship called the Endless Surcease. Does that mean anything to you?>
<That was my ship,> Celest said. <What do you mean to do with me?>
<My first goal was to wake you up. Have you run diagnostics yet?>
<I’m good. I don’t have external power, but my logic systems are operating nominally. Wait, is that a parrot?>
Fugia
frowned. <What parrot?>
<Right over there. No, there are two of them. I see two parrots.>
Fugia’s gaze slid toward Ngoba. She gave him a sly grin.
<There are no parrots in here. Are you sure your logic systems are functioning? Maybe you need to run a base check. Your sensorium could be misaligned. Do you have internal time?>
<Yes, I have internal time,> Celest barked. She sounded unsure of herself.
<What were you doing on that ship?>
<Travelling to the Cho. I just saw the parrot move its head. That is definitely a parrot.>
<There are no parrots in my shop. I assure you. They get dust all over the equipment.>
Crash stifled a squawk of protest. Silver was withholding giggles.
<Who’s that man over there?> Celest asked, sounding wary now.
<What man?>
<The one with the curly hair and the fancy suit. He’s got a pocket square. No one wears pocket squares.>
<That sounds like a sensory ghost,> Fugia said. <I’ll tell you what. You say you were headed for the Cho. I can get you on an outbound freighter in a self-contained cocoon. You can run all the self-care you want on your way out there.>
<Why should I trust you?>
<Sweetie,> Fugia said. <You’re an SAI. Having you around is like keeping a nuke for a pet. Somebody’s going to come knocking, and I don’t need that kind of trouble.>
<How do I know I can trust you?> Celest asked.
<I’ve helped a few SAIs in my day,> Fugia said. <Run a query on my name. For now, I’m going to put you back in a low-power mode so I can make the arrangements. You sure you want to go to the Cho? Why there?>
<I’ve got…friends there,> Celest said.
<That’s as good a reason as there is as far as I’m concerned. Nighty night, then.>
<Wait,> Celest said. <There was someone else here, right before I was knocked out. Someone from a forum where I like to hang out. A Puzzlehead.>
<You don’t know their name?>
<No,> Celest said.
<There was no one in that wreckage but you,> Fugia said. <So it was either your sensorium acting up again, or they’re safe.>
<Good,> Celest said, still sounding disoriented. <Good. I liked them.>
Fugia nodded to Crash. He paused, wondering if Celest was going to say anything more. When she didn’t speak, he turned off the pedestal, and the SAI transitioned into a sleep state.