Sinthetica (12 page)

24

After Ivan had eaten the meal provided by Babic, beef stroganoff on a bed of mash potato, he left the empty plate on the counter.

Inga finished her diagnostic scan a few minutes after he sat back down.

“Come, we should go now,” he said to her.

They had only just left the room when Ivan stopped suddenly, reeling as he suffered another bout of déjà vu on the landing. Inga put her hand out and steadied him.

“Are you alright, Myfriend?”

“Yes, yes. Just… a little dizzy,” he said, before continuing down the stairs.

The déjà vu was apparently another side effect of his trauma. Before the ambush, he had only experienced the feeling once or twice in his life, but since he had woken from the induced coma, it was a frequent and increasingly disorienting visitor in his life.

Inga waited outside as he went into the restaurant and said goodbye to Babic, who was acting as the maître d' in the absence of his head waiter.

Back in the Hyundai, they headed to the lower west side. On the way, he asked Inga for the results of her scan.

“My system scan returned over 100 errors and corrupt files, indicating severe damage to disk 2. Would you like me to detail them?”

“No, it’s okay. When you say ‘critical,' what do you mean?” 

“Critical errors if not rectified may lead to malfunction, inoperability of software and possible involuntary shutdown.”

“I see. We will try and get them fixed once we are safely abroad.”

Ivan easily remembered the way to Dr. Vlad’s; he had been there many times in the past when he worked for Babic, both for injuries he had suffered in the ‘line of duty’ and when accompanying co-workers. While he had never suffered anything more serious than a broken hand during that time, he thought highly of the doctor. He had seen him expertly treat more severe wounds many times.

Dr. Vlad was a grizzled former army medic. He specialized in bullet and stab wounds and was an invaluable provider to numerous nefarious individuals and gangs, but as far as Ivan knew, had little to do with Molenski’s organization, who had their own man.

The doctor worked out of a small apartment at the rear of a laundromat. It was accessible only by a dark alley that it shared with a rundown, less than busy, Chinese restaurant.

Ivan backed the Hyundai all the way down the alley, coming to a stop right in front of the door.

“Come, Inga; we will see the doctor.”

“
Doctor
– a person who is skilled in the science of medicine: a person who is trained and licensed to treat sick and injured people,” Inga recited, turning to face him. “I am not ‘people,' Myfriend. Will he treat me?”

“Well,” he said, laughing gently. “Just between you and me, he’s not a licensed doctor either.”

His humor was lost on Inga, who stared at him with a straight face.

“Don’t worry, you will see, he’ll fix you right up.”

“I am not worried, Myfriend.”

“Good, good, let’s go.”

The scuffed and dented door of Dr. Vlad’s ‘surgery’ opened seconds after Ivan rapped three times.

“Ivan, long time no see, come in…” said the doctor, squinting around his shoulder at Inga. “This is her?”

“Da,” said Ivan, stepping past the doctor.

“Wow, what a beauty,” the doctor said, peering over his glasses at the robot as she followed Ivan into the dingy building. “The craftsmanship is amazing, with the naked eye it’s almost impossible to tell she’s synthetic. Come, sit over here.”

He led her to a frayed leather recliner with stirrups and arm rests. She looked at Ivan who nodded reassuringly. The doctor sat on a stool beside the recliner and pulled a large magnifying glass on an articulated arm into place over her face. Ivan stood behind him.

“Amazing detail,” said the doctor, as he peered at Inga’s magnified face. “The pores, the fine hairs, everything!”

Without taking his eyes off her, he slipped on a pair of latex gloves and probed the scrape on her face gently.

“I’ve seen this model on the internet and in promotions of course, but I never imagined how perfect the RealFlesh is. These scratches are healing already. She has bullet wounds, you say?”

“Yes, in her back and head.”

“Sit up, darling,” the doctor requested.

He slowly unwound the scarf and peeled it away from her wound, before moving the magnifying glass over it.

“Hmm…” he said, probing it with a gloved finger, only to snatch it away abruptly when Inga gasped in pain. He glanced up at Ivan, confused.

“It is her programming; she can feel physical pain.”

“Ahh,” the doctor said. “I have heard of this; it is illegal. Must have cost a fortune…”

“Yes,” said Ivan, not offering any more.

The doctor shrugged, then addressed Inga.

“I have to clean and stitch your wound, darling. It will hurt, do you wish to turn off your pain programming first?”

“I am unable to disable PhysSens due to the errors in my system. A full diagnostic check by a trained technician is required to assess the damage. You may go ahead and make the repairs required to close my wounds.”

“You’re sure?” the doctor asked, looking at Ivan.

“Yes,” they said, in unison.

The next fifteen minutes were hard on Ivan. Inga cried and moaned in pain the entire time, tears streaming from her eyes as the amazed doctor closed her wounds with sutures that he applied deftly with a needle and thread. When he was done stitching and began bandaging the wounds, she immediately stopped crying.

“Interesting,” the doctor said. “Her pain is immediate and real, but only lasts as long as the actual infliction. It doesn’t linger. I wonder if this is by design or just something they haven’t quite worked out.”

“Development of PhysSens – patent pending – ceased when the artificial intelligence industry administration board outlawed the software. The software installed in me is a beta version and may differ in functionality from future versions.”

“I see,” said Dr. Vlad. “That’s a very comprehensive answer, thank you.”

“You couldn’t help us with her programming?” Ivan asked hopefully.

“No, Ivan. I’m not a technician. Frankly, I don’t know anyone in our… circle of friends who would be advanced enough to help. If it makes you feel better, though, the bullet in the back bounced off the chassis. The head too, although it left quite a dent. More than likely that is where the damage to her circuitry occurred.”

“Thanks, Doc. How much do I owe you?”

“Five hundred oughtta do it.” 

Ivan and Inga left after the money was handed over, heading back in the Hyundai to Mateo Babic’s restaurant.

25

Andre’s phone rang approximately three minutes after he made the call to his contact.

“Da?”

Molenski didn’t turn away from his window but listened carefully.

“Where?” Andre asked the caller and listened for a moment before hitting the intercom. “Quickly, head to Little Italy, we got a lucky break.”

He squeezed Molenski’s leg excitedly, the old man’s piss stain forgotten. Molenski nodded.

“Keep him on the line until we have a visual.”

“Stay on the line with me.”

***

Barely five minutes after they left the doctor’s, Ivan spotted the vehicle following them. It was a kick in the guts. He hadn’t expected that Molenski, even with all of his resources and contacts, would be capable of finding them so quickly.

Ivan thought furiously. There was no way to escape the pursuing vehicle without perhaps causing more complications like police involvement. He wasn’t sure how Molenski had handled the cops arriving on his doorstep, but he knew the Russian was adaptable, and depending on how much he had told the CPD, there might already be an APB out for him… not to mention the killer robot sitting beside him.

The vehicle tailing them appeared to be content just to follow at the moment, so he forced himself to relax. He sighed when they just missed a green light that would have given them a little more breathing space and perhaps the opportunity to ditch the pursuers.

“Are you well, Myfriend?” Inga asked him.

“Da, yes everything is okay.”

She smiled.

“I like you, Myfriend.”

Despite the gravity of their situation, he laughed in surprise.

“I like you too, Inga.”

“Do you like me because I am fuckable, Myfriend?”

“What? No!” he said, blushing.

“You do not find me highly desirable as a sexual partner?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant is… there is more than one way to like someone. I like you, but not only because I want to – not only because you are sexy.” 

A horn sounded behind them. The lights were green. He put his foot on the gas and glanced in the rearview mirror; the headlights of his tail were still three cars back.

“
Sexy
- sexually appealing, attractive, or exciting.”

“Yes. You should say sexy instead of fuckable. It’s much nicer.”

“Yes, Myfriend,” she said, and put her hand on his thigh, just above the knee. “I like you too, and not just because you are sexy.”

As he drove, Ivan glanced at her pretty and very sincere face, lit only by the glow of the dashboard. His stomach did a somersault. Grappling with the unfamiliar feelings he had been experiencing since he first met Inga, he turned his attention back to the road and their tail. Even though he hadn’t had time to analyze fully why he had risked everything to rescue her and take her away from Molenski, her display of affection somehow validated his decision. Made him more determined than ever to escape his former boss’s clutches.

He smiled grimly as he weaved through the traffic. The best way to lose this particular tail was to cut it off completely. Time for a trip to the shore and a final confrontation with the Russian. A few minutes later the Hyundai exited the 290 and headed onto West Congress Parkway. His hands were steady on the wheel. Since the shooting, he didn’t suffer any of the adrenaline-charged nerves that used to occur before a confrontation.

In fact, he was quite clinical about the coming clash. He knew that in ten minutes, he or Molenski would be dead. He was determined it wouldn’t be him… if it was, the fate that awaited Inga didn’t bear thinking about.

Finally, in the distance, he could see the streetscape open onto a green space and beyond, the blue water of Monroe Harbor. As luck would have it, the final set of lights leading into the road system of the park switched to amber and then red as they approached. Ivan floored the gas pedal and ran the red light, glancing in the mirror to see the tail blocked as they attempted to change lanes.

He sped through the empty network of roads that crisscrossed the whole precinct, then swung hard into the carpark of Grant Park. He sped to the darkest corner he could find. Being late Fall, there was virtually nobody around, and that was just the way he wanted it. If things escalated into a gunfight, the fewer witnesses and innocents in the area, the better. 

“Come, Inga.”

Seeming to understand Ivan’s urgency, the robot stepped out of the car quickly and rushed to keep up with him as he ran down a path. The big man checked the clip in his pistol as he ran, before making sure the two spare clips were still in his pants pocket.

“Why are you checking your weapon, Myfriend?” Inga asked as he put it back in the shoulder holster.

Perhaps he should have lied, remembering her reaction to his handling of Danny Garcia, but he decided not to. Obviously, something had changed after she had been shot, but it was best to know now if her former robotics law programming might be a problem when the Russian arrived. 

“There may be trouble,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I may have to shoot some people.”

She nodded, seemingly comfortable with the prospect of human on human violence. They had just passed through the opening of a large hedge when Ivan spotted a pair of headlights coming from the direction they had just come from. He grasped Inga’s arm and directed her to behind the hedge.

“Wait here until I call you out.” 

“Yes, Myfriend.”

He turned to go and then, realizing that he may never get the chance again, he took Inga by her slender shoulders and kissed her on the lips.

“I love you, Inga.”

Before she could respond he was on the move, darting back through the opening in the hedge and turning immediately to the right. He would circle around to the back of the carpark so he could come upon then from behind.

What the fuck? Did I just say ‘I love you’ to a robot?

He laughed harshly at himself under his breath. Perhaps Molenski was right; maybe he was losing it.

Ivan slowed as he approached the carpark from the west. There was a dark SUV parked near the Hyundai. He could only see one figure from his vantage point, someone leaning over and looking into the car by the light of a phone. Ivan didn’t recognize the man by his build, but of more concern was the fact that there was no one else present. That meant they were already hunting for him and Inga. He would have to make this quick. A broken neck would do it.

Stealthily, nothing but a shadow, Ivan ran towards the SUV, keeping it between him and the man looking into the car. He stopped at the rear of the vehicle and peeked around the corner, gun held at the ready. The light had been switched off, making his job a little more difficult, as the other man would now be undistracted.

The other man had moved away from the Hyundai and was bent over something in his hands and heading for the path that Ivan and Inga had taken just minutes before. Ivan was confused, this man was sloppy. Is it possible that Molenski sent him alone? He shrugged the question off and rushed his target. A stealthy kill was in order. A gunshot would only bring the others running. 

The other man didn’t hear Ivan come up behind him, but perhaps he sensed him. He turned around when the big man was still five feet away.

The man immediately held up both hands, one holding a small gadget, and started to backpedal. Ivan didn’t pause; he ran straight at the man. As he closed in, the expression on his target’s face changed from fear to recognition, and he stopped where he stood and waited.

Ivan didn’t stop, he grabbed the man by the shirt collar and grasped his head with his two meaty hands. 

“Please wait! I can help you!”

Ivan squeezed the man’s head between his hands but didn’t twist it… yet.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“My name is Tom Redfern; I work for Genitix. I saw you… I mean, you have the Sinthetica robot, right?”

Ivan stared at the man. He looked like he had been through the ringer, his face was bruised and puffy, and there was blood on his clothes. He immediately judged him not to be a threat, but his presence raised many questions.

“How do you know about Inga?” Ivan asked, easing his grip a little.

“Inga?” asked Redfern, lowering his hands a little.  “Oh, you mean the robot. Look, buddy, we don’t have a lot of time if you’ll just show me where she is I can deactivate her…”

Ivan began to crush the man’s head again. Redfern made a squeaking sound.

“You will not touch Inga.”

“Okay, okay,” said the red-faced technician. “But she’s in some serious trouble – we all are when the authorities catch up with us. I need to remove the card from her to stop her hurting anyone else.”

“Card? What card?”

“I haven’t got all night to tell you about it, you just have to trust me,” said Redfern becoming more animated despite realizing that the big man was more than capable of twisting his head to break his neck. 

“Tell me,” said Ivan, unrelenting.

Redfern rolled his eyes.

“I was delivering the robot to your boss; we got held up by two heavies. I don’t know who they were, but they made me insert a card into… Inga. It overrode all her security programming and let us send her orders remotely.”

Suddenly it all made sense to Ivan. Inga going crazy had been an assassination attempt, probably ordered by the Columbians, and instead of a gun, the weapon they were using was a robot that their intended victim himself had ordered.

His eyes suddenly narrowed and he looked intently at Redfern.

“And you helped them?”

“No! They forced me,” he said, his voice breaking as he became aware that again his life was on a knife’s edge. “They threatened to kill my wife and little girls.”

Ivan slowly relaxed. Molenski’s pursuit wasn’t as close as he had thought, but there was still little time to waste. He lowered his gun and gestured at the device Redfern was holding.

“Is this how you tracked us?”

“Yes, the card I was forced to install contains a GPS tracking chip.”

Ivan held out his hand. Redfern paused, then handed it to him reluctantly. Ivan threw it to the pavement and then smashed it to pieces with his heel.

“There will be no more tracking.”

Redfern flinched as the big man grabbed his shoulder and patted him down, locating the gun quickly and pulling it out. He looked questioningly at the technician.

“It’s not mine; I took it from the men after… after I shot them.”

Ivan stared at him a little longer and then slid the gun into the belt of his pants.

“You won’t need it anymore. Come.”

Ivan gave him a gentle shove, propelling him along the path towards Inga’s hiding spot.

“So you’re a technician? You can help me with Inga then,” said Ivan.

They rounded a bend, and both men pulled up in surprise. Inga was standing in the middle of the path staring up at the full moon. 

“Inga! I told you to wait in the bushes.”

She looked at them.

“Yes Myfriend, but I grew bored.”

Redfern’s eyes widened at this declarationThe machine was clearly faulty and probably a great danger to any humans it met in its current state. 

How the fuck am I supposed to deactivate it with the big guy watching over me.

“Who is this man?”

“He is a technician from Genitix.”

Redfern watched the robot carefully as they approached her. His guts churned nervously. He had seen what the machine was capable of and knew that she could flip at any second. Her disconcerting stare only added to his uneasiness.

“How do you want me to help her?” he asked.

“She keeps talking about how she needs to run a full diagnostic check, but I don’t want her… I don’t want her to change back.”

Relief flooded Redfern.

“Oh good! Yes I know, we can’t risk her reverting to the new programming. I saw the damage she did. Look, the only way we can be sure she won’t go assassin again is to remove the card and deactivate her until the authorities…”

The gun was placed against his forehead so quickly that Redfern didn’t even have time to flinch. He put his hands up warily, not wanting to startle the big man.

“What? What did I say?”

“You will not fucking deactivate her. I just want you to make sure there is no long term damage and make sure she doesn’t turn again. I want her to stay as she is now.”

Redfern nodded.

“Fine, I can’t do anything here, though. We need to get her to the Genitix lab, so I can remove the card and run her diagnostic check.”

  Ivan looked at him suspiciously.

“If I remove the card, it will mean no one else can control her remotely.” 

“Fine, but any tricks and I will shoot you through the head,” Ivan said, in a flat voice.

Redfern didn’t doubt his sincerity. He swallowed hard and gave Ivan a nod. He would have to play this by ear, and hopefully, an opportunity would arise once they were safely back at Genitix.