Unstable Prototypes (38 page)

Ma selected a reply from a list of prepared
statements. "In expectation of the requirement to navigate
unmonitored space, I accessed the flight history of Mr. Alexander's
vehicle. I have been background processing it, analyzing for
navigational patterns. His methods do not conform to any
algorithmically derivable models, but subset of data points did
show a degree of repeatability."

"I was looking for a yes or no."

"I am afraid that the confidence value
associated with my reply is below the default threshold to render a
binary response."

Garotte sighed. "I am going to ask you again,
and I want a one word answer. Can you plot a safe course?"

"Probably."

"Good enough for me. Get to it."

Ma wriggled free of Silo's grip and propelled
herself to the dash with the pad in her teeth. She managed to bring
herself to a stop against the head rest, wrapped her tail around
it, and began entering commands and calling up charts. With nothing
to occupy her, Silo unbuckled her restraints and allowed herself to
drift free, stretching luxuriously. The motions put a bit more
strain on the ill fitting jumpsuit, among other things.

"Oh!" she groaned in relief. "I feel two
inches taller. It is
so
good to get away from that
gravity."

"Really?" Garotte remarked, rattling his head
to snap out of the primitive state of mind her limbering up had
placed him in. "Before the power went out, it seemed like you
didn't like the idea of leaving."

"I didn't like the idea of
breaking
out
," she said, warning in her tone.

"Out for a penny, out for a pound," he said
with a shrug.

She grumbled something incoherent.

"You aren't still mad about that little dare,
are you?"

"The dare that led me to cause almost two
trillion credits in property damage? The one that caused me to be
dismissed from the
only
thing in my life that meant
anything? Yes! Of course I'm still angry about it!"

"Look, I can understand if you still blame me
for-"

"No!" she stated harshly. She covered her
eyes and calmed herself. "No, I don't blame you for that. You
didn't force me to do it, you dared me to do it. I didn't have to
accept!
I
am the one who took that building down. It was my
decision. The consequences are on my shoulders."

For a few moments there was silence.

"Damn fine job of it, though," Garotte
remarked.

"It really was," she said quickly and
eagerly. She clenched her fists and forced the smile from her face.
"Darn it, Garotte... I'm not supposed to be
proud
of that
sort of thing."

"Nonsense. You are a surgeon with heavy
artillery. What's not to be proud of? It sounds to me that you've
been letting those prison psychiatrists get to you."

"You really don't see the problem in it, do
you?"

"That I most certainly do not. And I
certainly don't see why a feeling of guilt about inappropriate
pride would motivate you to sulk in a prison for the rest of your
life."

"I wasn't sulking in prison because I
felt
guilty, Garotte. I was sulking in prison because I
was
guilty. We broke the law! Violated a treaty! They caught
us, they tried us, they convicted us! Prison is where we
belong!"

"Even if we've got something more worthwhile
to do? Certainly not. Prison is for the worthless flotsam of
society that cannot contribute in any meaningful way and thus must
be kept tucked away, lest they spoil things for the common folk.
You and I were lucky enough to be given gifts, my dear! We were
endowed by our creator with incomparable talents, the likes of
which are seldom seen, and thus, to allow those god-given abilities
to fester within a cell is tantamount to blasphemy!" Garotte
proclaimed theatrically.

"... How do you fit through doors with an ego
that big?"

"Nothing wrong with a healthy self-image," he
said, straightening his collar. "But all joking aside, regardless
of our personal beliefs vis-à-vis the applicability of justice, can
we at least agree that the elimination of the threat presented by
Karter's abduction takes precedent."

"Yeah. On
that,
we can agree."

"Excuse me, but I have drafted a prospective
course," Ma stated. "There are three stops prior to the rendezvous;
a trade station, a supply station, and a small asteroid colony.
Each has at least four gambling kiosks or parlors. Small,
randomized withdrawals of amounts below alarm thresholds will
permit us to collect the required payment amount in chips without
detection. The trade station will have clothing retailers as well,
in order to procure more appropriate apparel for Miss Silo."

Garotte unlatched his restraints and floated
to the control panel to look over the course.

"I could certainly use a change of clothes.
Manticore only stocked standard sizes, and I suppose I'm not so
standard," Silo said, tugging at the ill-fitting outfit. "The
equipment supervisors never could find the right fit. Either that
or none of them knew what they were doing."

"Oh, I don't know," Garotte countered,
turning to look her up and down. "Were they men, mostly?"

"Yes."

"I think they knew exactly what they were
doing."

"Garotte!" she said, smirking and giving him
a playful shove.

Her high gravity muscles combined with the
zero gravity ship made it a bit less playful than she'd intended,
sending Garotte tumbling over the controls and bouncing his head
off of the front view window.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she blurted,
helping him back to a steady and upright position.

"Not at all. You know I like-"

"If you say you like it rough, you'll be
looking for the rest of your teeth in a minute."

He opened his mouth, but thought better of
his comment. Instead, he turned and gave the course a final glance.
After a moment of consideration, he remarked, "Hell, if I knew what
made for a good course, I'd have drawn it up myself. Do it."

Ma tapped her pad and the ship was on its
way. With her task done, she turned to Silo, who after a few more
stretches had strapped herself loosely into a seat again. The AI
traced out a few statements, then launched the first, making eye
contact with their latest ally as it was read aloud.

"Miss Silo, I am afraid that, in order to
maximize available storage and processing resources in my current
platform, I stored only the information I anticipated would be
relevant. As you were not a part of my intended course of action,
my data concerning you is extremely limited. To state the problem
more succinctly, though I may have met you before, I do not know
anything about you. I wonder if you would share some biographic
information in order to permit me to establish a baseline for
interaction."

"Isn't she the sweetest thing?" Silo
remarked, putting her hand on her hip. "Well sure thing,
sweetheart! What would you like to know?"

"I request any biographical data you deem
relevant to the formulation of an accurate behavioral profile."

"Little fuzzy lawyer," she said with a shake
of her head, patting her lap.

Ma looked curiously at the gesture.

"Well? Come on," Silo said, patting again
with both hands.

Ma drifted over to Silo and was quickly
plucked from the air and cradled in her lap.

"Let's see. What to say about me?" she
wondered, idly stroking the creature in her lap. "Well, I was born
in Wisconsin, where I had a bulldog named Brewski and a Pomeranian
named Koosh. Mother, Father, and three older brothers, all
military, through and through. Heavy ordinance training, graduated
with honors. Distinguished service record... up until the incident.
Um... What else?"

"Favorite food: Fresh apples. Favorite color:
Red. Astrological Sign: Pisces. Favorite leisure activity: Reading.
Favorite Genre:
Paranormal
Romance,"
Garotte rattled
off, the final words carrying a fair amount of contempt.

"How do you know all of that?" Silo
asked.

"We worked together for four years. Gathering
intelligence is one of my primary roles, you'll remember. Though I
must say, I never would have guessed that last bit."

"There's nothing wrong with a little fantasy
mixed in with your romance."

Ma nosed at her slidepad. "Please describe
the nature of your collaborations with each other."

"Our collaborations were of a classified
nature," he said.

"Oh, Garotte, who is she going to tell?"

"Until a mishap with some high voltage,
s
he
had an internet connection."

"Did she?"

"That doodad on her neck."

"Is that what it was? I thought that was
jewelry."

"Oddly, animal neck piercings never caught
on."

"I am aware of a great number of Mr.
Garotte's exploits. I know that he associated with a number of
current and former military personnel as a private contractor,
performing infiltration, defense, espionage, and anti-terrorist
operations. You reached an arrangement with Karter to supply you
with specialized equipment. My primary interest is in the role
played by Miss Silo, and the interpersonal dynamic developed
between the two of you."

"I blew things up for him. That was the
extent of our relationship," Silo said bluntly.

"Then the physical aspect of the relationship
is a recent development?"

Garotte raised an eyebrow and Silo's mouth
dropped open, each staring at the creature.

"I don't know what you're talking about,"
Silo said. "If you're talking about that 'I like it rough' thing,
that was just that... What did you call it? … Jocular... He was
just teasing."

"Is the physiological response an intentional
act of teasing as well?"

"What physiological response?"

"The sensitivity of the olfactory receptors
of my current platform has enabled me to detect a pronounced
increase in pheromone levels in the past few minutes, particularly
for Mr. Garotte."

"I... Well... I..." Garotte stuttered, for
the first time appearing to be something less than unflappable.
"I've been incarcerated for three years with no conjugal visits.
I'm not made of stone."

"Am I in error in supposing that there is a
mutual attraction?"

Silo cleared her throat. "You... There's
something that-"

What was no doubt sure to be an artful piece
of careful explanation was interrupted by a chirp of Ma's
slidepad.

"Missed message," the device announced.

"We must have passed near a communication
relay," Garotte said, deciding that stating the obvious was
infinitely preferable to enduring the awkwardness that had suddenly
arisen.

"Well, we'd better listen to the message, it
is probably important," Silo nodded, equally eager for the
distraction.

Ma tapped at the recording. From the device's
speaker came the sound of rushing wind, followed by a clatter and
clank. Then came voices, men and women barking short, stern orders
to one another."

"Make sure those crates are secure!"

"Did you hear something?"

"Probably loose hydraulics. Ensure pressure
containment before leaving the atmosphere."

"Return course laid in. Initiating cloaking
field."

"I want FTL set to activate as soon as we are
out of the atmosphere."

"Hull temperature nominal. Planetary defense
forces are maintaining requested distance."

"Exterior pressure at 0.1 atmosphere's and
falling. Initiating FTL in 3... 2... 1..."

Finally, the device announced, "Transmission
interrupted."

Silo looked to Garotte. "What did we just
listen to?"

Ma looked at the data available and swiped
out a response.

"The message was sent from a slidepad left in
the possession of Lex," she explained. "It originated from the
planet Tessera."

"Did he pocket dial you?" Silo asked.

"Was there video?" Garotte asked.

Ma attempted to replay the message, but
Garotte snatched it away, pulling up the message and jogging
through the associated video. Finally he paused it, turning it to
the others. A single, blurred frame showed men dressed precisely as
those who had nearly killed them on Manticore.

"Did this Lex person infiltrate them?"

"Judging from the video, I would say that is
unlikely, unless he learned to fly without the need of a ship,"
Garotte said, "However, it does mean that, at least at the time
this message was sent, there was a slidepad that we've got contact
with aboard a vessel piloted by our targets. Can you trace the
connection? Reestablish it perhaps?"

Ma looked impatiently at him from her
position on Silo's lap.

"Oh, yes. Of course," he said, returning the
slidepad.

She nosed out some statements. "While we are
in transit, it will not be possible. Any attempted contact is
likely to notify them of the presence of the device. It would be
best to wait until the ship containing the device is likely to have
returned to a more permanent base, and then identify the most
accurate coordinates possible and activate location tracking."

"Agreed," Garotte said with a nod. "Best not
to delay our trip, but at the first stop, I want to contact Lex.
Seeing as how he managed to get a slidepad aboard a terrorist ship,
he deserves congratulations, and
we
deserve an
explanation."

In a waiting room inside a police station,
Michella, Jon, and Lex were occupying a bench that was really only
designed with two people in mind. As was the case with virtually
every other structure in Rackton, the police station was needlessly
lavish, equipped with potted palms, leather upholstered furniture,
and other vital law enforcement equipment. There was plenty of
seating, but the arresting officer had quite clearly instructed
them to sit on this specific bench outside his office door and
await further instruction. It wasn't the most dignified situation,
but the three of them agreed not to make too much of a scene. Every
desk had a large message screen blaring alerts, there were
loudspeakers broadcasting desperate messages, dispatchers were
madly attempting to answer calls. In short, the police had enough
trouble on their hands trying to deal with the aftermath of the
terrorist attack. There wasn't even anyone specifically guarding
them, but two sets of electronic wrist restraints cuffing Jon to
Lex and Lex to Michella meant that any escape attempt would take a
fair amount of coordination, and at least one member of the crew
certainly wasn't up to the task.