20
"Not human!" screamed the Big Man later that day. "Are you seriously suggesting this f*cking thing is a robot? Or is he a f*cking god, come to show us all we've been naughty? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
If the Colonel had been a man to cringe, he would have cringed at the word robot. “Not a robot, respectfully, sir. And definitely not a god. Perhaps the closest thing to both without being either. Sir, I think that I can say we're dealing with an AI. Non-nationstate and probably home-grown, homemade right here in England. I don't know all the details yet, but believe me, my team is working without rest."
The familiar eager light of the table winked on and off and went ignored. The Nothing Fruit was deserted at this hour of night, except for the three men working: one nervous rat-faced waiter and the two cooks, who remained out of sight as usual. Hurn and the Big Man had not eaten, a fact neither of them had noted or could afford to indulge just yet. The waiter looked annoyed, perhaps yearning to take a nap in the back room.
"To be expected. My dear Colonel, you really want me to believe that this man is a fully functioning AI? Rogue, without alignment to any nation or corporation. I would sooner think he was a god. Do you know the resources, the millions, no, billions of pounds, dollars, and renminbi that such a feat of engineering would require? Impossible. Do you know how much money the Chinese have poured into that very task, let alone the Americans—all to failure. Utter waste and disaster. And another thing not to be forgotten, such things take time and cannot be done unnoticed. We know about almost every country's attempts to develop new weapons, so how do you think this happened? In someone's garage?”
"I have considered all of this. And it does seem unlikely. But unlikelihood seems ever more possible in light of the impossible. What doesn't bleed when shot? What cyborg is immune to a cyborg virus? What robot could rival a human's intelligence? None of them but what I have said. Such things get less expensive and more possible by the day. Perhaps we should have prepared sooner."
They were silent a moment while the Big Man considered this. He was more subdued now.
"What's to be done, then? True or not, you raise a good point. It seems we should prepare for this contingency. If anyone is genius enough to create such a thing alone, we need to know who they are.”
"So it seems. It's time to put his . . . its face to the public, get the police search net involved. Nothing that will damage our interests. Perhaps say this man is a pedophile, a good choice. Evokes disgust and hatred, and commands the police to search for the children as well. We cannot mention any of its strengths. Ideally, the police that find him will be regular unaugmented men. This thing's power relies on the technology of its combatants. It has not as yet demonstrated a capacity for true physical violence. It disabled my men precisely because they were what they were, almost as much machine as human; if your very joints are run by a processor, anyone, or anything, with the skill and means can take control of your body. My men were not apt enough to withstand such an attack, although next time might be different."
"And how are they, Colonel? It seems a miracle they've survived."
"No miracle. Mercy, sir. But they will be fine. No permanent damage except to their circuits."
"What, do you think, is its aim?"
"I think, sir, that to determine that, we must do one of two things. Wait until it's closer to achieving that goal. Or, find its maker and code writer."
The Big Man's face looked shaken for a moment but he soon reinstated his usual intense continence.
"Your unit can handle this task?"
"I am optimistic, sir. We're the best on the continent."
"What of the original targets, and those helping them, the collateral targets?"
"One is dead. Gustav Stys, the big Pollock. The rest have dispersed, and we must wait until one of them emerges from hiding, with our Sniffer incapacitated, it will be difficult to follow them. It is unfortunate but the Old Man seemed prepared for all eventualities. I am very doubtful that we'll be able to find them by tracking alone. It may also be time to start tracking the Old Man with all our resources. When we find him, we can only destroy it with conventional assets because it won’t be able to hack them. No augmented troops, excepting myself. With him gone, they will show themselves. They cannot help but do so in this city."
"There is one more thing," said the Big Man delicately. "What of the experiment we placed in their midst, our precious mole from birth."
"The Old Man discovered her, sir. Right now, her senses are blanketed and she does not know where she is. Still it's only a matter of time before someone takes pity on her, or she learns to keep us out. You know what I think about the SEEDS. A risk not worth taking, but one easily remedied if she turns rogue, as you know."
The restaurant's emptiness seemed cavernous as the Big Man considered this. The Colonel saw something behind the other man’s eyes, something dark and misty, like the inside of a mine shaft, something that he knew he could not ask about, something that somehow he knew he wanted to know. Listlessly, the waiter rustled a magazine but gave up trying to read it and glanced at the two men in irritation. Hurn continued cautiously:
"Someone is helping her. No doubt Blake -----, the young man we released with her. It seems our assessment was correct. They've fallen in love or so Sniffer thinks, smells. Our only link, a tedious one, to the Old Man.
With this, the Big Man’s face lit with a smiling catharsis.
"A trap set to perfection. And somehow it did not work."
Hurn stood up to go. Across the room, the waiter's face was livid.
"Not yet, sir. Now if you'll please excuse me."
"Goodnight, Nikolas.”