Dubious Heroes: a novel Page 61

  "Thanks", I said. "Doon out."

  Mac looked over at me.

  "You think you can transit with that thing?" he asked.

  "I have no idea", I said, "With a full cargo of water, she has to mass about as much as a medium-sized asteroid. Guess we're about to find out. Hopefully, we don’t end up in limbo."

  "Limbo?” Cisco asked.

  “Stuck in some alien universe, and unable to return”, I said. “Probably won’t happen.”

  “I really need to stop asking you questions”, he said, smiling grimly. “Before we do this, I need to hit the head.”

  "Go ahead", I said. "And take your time. Those last two jumps ate up most of our power. We aren't going anywhere for at least two hours."

  "Aye, Captain", he said, as he unbuckled, and walked over toward the lift. Stopping at the door, he looked over at Mac. "Please don't kill him while I'm gone. You do, and I'll never hear the end of it."

  "I imagine you wouldn't", Mac said.

  Cisco entered the lift, and the door slid closed, leaving the Admiral and myself alone. I thought it would be a good time to quiz Mac about more private matters.

  "When was the last time you saw Kyra?" I asked.

  He thought for a moment.

  "I'd say it was eight, maybe ten years ago", he said. "She'd just been discharged from one of the smaller planetary military forces; I forget which one. She was sort of at loose ends, looking for something to do. She stayed with us for a couple of months, then I suppose she decided that hanging around the asteroid belt with a bunch of old farts wasn't her cup of tea. If you want details, I suggest you ask her, not me."

  "I've tried", I said. "She hasn't been particularly forthcoming."

  "So, is your interest personal, or professional?'

  "Does it matter?"

  "It matters to me", he said, leaving me to wonder which answer would get him talking.

  "Mostly personal", I said, after a moment. "Around here, the two tend to get sort of tangled up."

  "That happens, on ships", Mac said. "Still, she has good reason to be wary. She isn't much of a believer in the inherent goodness of people. Then again, neither am I."

  "At least she came by it honestly", I said, and he smiled at me.

  "Yes, she did", he said. "Her father did a marvelous job of teaching her that you can't really trust anyone, even family. Hell, especially family, in our case. You know her father, right?"

  "I don't think so", I said. "She mentioned he's a geneticist, and sort of implied that he'd applied his skills toward engineering her, which I thought was a little, well... creepy. That, and possibly unethical."

  "Definitely unethical", Mac said. "Her father is Michael Dubois Kane. He married my daughter Annabelle MacPherson."

  My brain finally made the connection. My eyes might have bugged out a bit.

  "Biometrics Corporation", I said. "If I recall correctly, he's the founder?"

  "He is", Mac said. "One of the wealthiest men in the galaxy, if that counts for anything. He seems to think it does." The way he said it, I had an idea it didn't count for much with him. He continued.

  "He wasn't rich when he married my daughter; just a grad student on Earth. By the time Kyra was born, Annabelle and Michael had already been together for over thirty years, and BioCorp was an established concern."

  "She doesn't act like someone who comes from a wealthy family", I said. "At least, from my experience around kids who grew up wealthy."

  "She didn't have the typical rich kid childhood", Mac said. "To her father, Kyra was more of a long-term lab experiment, than a daughter. She was in her teens when she discovered she wasn't his first family project. There was an older brother no one had ever mentioned to her."

  "She has a brother?"

  "Had", Mac said. "He died years ago. There were quite a few congenital problems. Her father would have terminated the... experiment, if Anna had let him."

  "Sounds like quite the guy", I said.

  "That, he is", Mac said, shaking his head. "Anyway, they packed the kid off to a facility that was very private, and very, very far away from the family. In the genetics business, there seems to be a tendency to parade your successes, and bury your failures."

  "There's a tendency to do that in a number of professions", I said. "Not just genetics."

  "No kidding", Mac said. "Though, in most cases, it isn't your own flesh and blood you're tinkering with. They'd never even hinted that she had a sibling, so once she discovered the truth, she sneaked off to see him. She returned, packed her things, and left. She never went back. It took her about a year to track me down. The last thing I wanted was my teenage granddaughter hanging around a bunch of soldiers, so I packed her off to school. I figured she'd show back up after she graduated, but she never did, and least not for quite a while. The next time I saw her, she was already military. I suspect she went into the business just to piss off her father."

  "Did it?"

  "Like a charm", he said. "Of course, she hasn't actually spoken to him since she left home, at least not that I know of. Somehow, he found out she was military, and naturally, blamed me. He spent a fair sum of money tracking me down, just so he could bitch me out. I told him to fuck off, and we haven't spoken since. Anyway, I do know she talks to her mother, although none of us are what you'd call close-knit. By the way, you tell her I told you any of this, and I'll space you and your bodyguards. We clear?"

  "Clear", I said.

  "Good", he said. "I rather she not be pissed off at me for the next twenty years. That gal can hold a grudge."

  "I think you're good", I said. "She speaks very fondly of you."

  "Really", he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "She's a hard kid to get a handle on, sometimes."

  "Now there’s an understatement", I said, smiling.

  "Can you turn your AI off in here?" he asked. "Have her leave the room, if she can."

  "I can turn off my audio and video pickups", Angie said.

  "No doubt", Mac said, not sounding convinced. I couldn't honestly say that Angie wouldn't eavesdrop, regardless of what she said. “I’m not a big believer in the idea that AIs have feelings like we do, but I know your Captain here believes otherwise. Given that, you should probably take a powder.”

  “Take a powder?” Angie asked.

  “It means don’t listen in”, I said.

  “Is that an order?” she asked.

  “No, it isn’t”, I said. “You decide.”

  “I’ll stay”, she said.

  Mac shrugged, and looked over at me.

  "Just remember that I tried", he said.

  "Understood”, I said, wondering exactly what we were about to get into.

  "You-" he pointed at me- "I've played along and answered your nosy questions, and I've told you a lot more than you ought to know. Now, it's my turn. No questions, just something you don't want to hear, but you're gonna listen anyway."

  "Alright", I said. "I'm listening."

  "Just so you both know, I have nothing against AIs. Hell, I like em better than most people. On the other hand, I'm just old-fashioned enough to believe that humans belong with humans. What you two are doing isn't right, and it is screwing up something else, and that something else involves someone I care about."

  "Kyra?" I asked, just to show I wasn't always as smart as I looked. "Hey, I care about her too, but I'm pretty damn sure she doesn't have any interest in me."

  "Are you this dumb every day, or just on special occasions?" He asked.

  "I suspect pretty much every day", I said, "from the look of things."

  Angie was there, but she wasn't saying anything. I wasn't sure how she felt, but I hoped it didn't resemble my feelings. I was angry at his callousness, but mostly, I felt embarrassed, and wanted to crawl under something.

  I continued.

  “How do you even know about… that?”

  “Your crew knows, and they’re hanging around with my people, some of whom, male and female, have expressed an int
erest in getting to know you better. They ask if you’re available or not, and the word is, you’re not. As in, not available, in a very weird way. Just like anywhere else, word gets around.”

  “Well, fuck”, I said. Now I really wanted to crawl under a rock.

  "So, I need you to quit dicking around and fix this", he said.

  "I went that route once before", I said. "Got nowhere."

  "No guarantees that you will in the future, either", he said.

  "So, why bother?"

  "Maybe you should think about trying harder", Mac said. "Trust me on this; I know her far better than you do. And quit screwing around in situations that don't involve at least two human beings."

  I was about to tell him to mind his own fucking business, when the lift door slid open, and Cisco emerged into the tense silence. He looked from the Admiral to me, as we glared at each other.

  "Not to intrude", he said, "But do I need to shoot anyone?"

  "Not at the moment", I said. I spun my chair around to face my vidscreens, and began calling up various reports. From the corner of my eye, I could still see Mac, sitting at his station, glowering. After a bit of this, Cisco took out his pod, and began tinkering with it.

  Two hours and twenty minute later, our batteries were recharged, and the Princess of Arabia was rigged for tow, or at least firmly attached to us, all of it accomplished with a minimum of conversation. Angie did as ordered, and responded perfunctorily. Mac kept his own counsel, watching the vidscreens, and sipping from the flask of whiskey. Maybe his no-buzz pill had worn off. I wished mine had, but since drinking wasn't an option, I just sat and stewed.

  The transit back to Sol went without a hitch, the Princess making the jump perfectly. The only downside was that it almost drained all of our power. Given her size, I'd put us a few thousand clicks outside the asteroid belt. The new star drive seemed to be quite accurate, but I wasn't in the mood to take chances, so we'd do the last leg of our trip via pulse drive.

  It only took us an hour to reach Mac's base, but it was still a very long, very quiet trip.

  I sat in front of the hearth, and watched the fire crackle and spit, as I sipped from a glass of whiskey. The pub was deserted and quiet, even somber. I'd noticed some time ago that it tended to mirror Angie's mood, sometimes bright and boisterous, other times, as now, pensive and melancholy. I had an idea that my own mood might be affecting the place, as well. Here, I had as much power to alter reality as Angie did, though undeniably, she was much better at it.

  Angie always chose to make an entrance, rather than just popping in, and as yet, she hadn't arrived. I studied the room in the flickering light, and marveled at the level of detail. From the soot buildup on the hearth, to the threadbare carpets, or even the spot of candle wax on the end table, which caused my whiskey glass to wobble, it was all perfect. I wondered which genius had figured out that the human mind couldn't perceive perfectly, without imperfections? Probably an AI.

  Still, the place, our place, wasn't real to me, nor was it to Angie. It was nothing more than an elaborate compromise, created to give us some commonality of existence. All of it was built to deny a basic truth: while she could live in my world, I'd never be able to live in hers. I was a human, and I'd always be a human. In a place like our pub, Angie could appear human, but she was not; I was spending time with an intricate simulacrum, not another human being. She could know my world in infinite detail, while hers would remain a mystery to me, forever.

  A moment later, she walked in and sat, choosing a chair facing me, rather than sitting at my side. I wondered if the symbolism was intentional. This was not going to be pleasant.

  "Mac was right", she said. "Callous and rude, but essentially right." She seemed saddened by her words; I had to remind myself that AIs, while they experienced emotion in their own way, were not human. I guessed that they did, after a fashion, experience love, despair, or even happiness, just as we did. Nevertheless, it was wrong to humanize those emotions. AI's weren't human, no matter how much they appeared to be.

  "I know", I said, then attempted to explain. "The problem isn't you, it's me, and the problem is that I'm human. I'm stuck in a biological form that took billions of years to evolve, so I have all this, um, baggage that's been passed down from the beginning. Basically, while I can believe something logically, like this pub or you being real, I have all these other senses telling me otherwise."

  "And there's the human drive to reproduce", she said.

  "Well, yeah", I said. "I'm sure that's part of it, although it's probably at a subconscious level. No matter what we do in here-" I tapped my temple with a finger- "the rest of me isn't fooled."

  "I'm aware of that", she said.

  "Just as you're likely aware that whenever we're in port, I've been, um..."

  "Seeking human contact", she said, smiling sadly.

  "Well, yeah. It's purely a physical thing, no emotion involved", I said, realizing how lame that sounded, even as I spoke the words.

  "Does that work for you?"

  "Not really", I said.

  "Of course it doesn't", she said. "That's because humans, no matter how much they try, can't separate the two."

  "So it would seem", I said. "You know, I really do love you."

  "I know you do", she said. "And I love you, as well." She smiled again, the sadness evident in her eyes. Illusion or not, I knew the sadness was genuine. She continued. "If only I could be human."

  "If only I could be an AI", I said, returning her smile, even though I didn't feel like smiling.

  "So", she said, "What do we do now?"

  "I still need you", I said, "And not just because you run the ship. I'll always need you. But this stuff, this place here... it can't continue."

  "I know", she said. "Where does that leave us? What does that leave us?"

  "I'm not sure there can be an us, without it interfering with something, or more accurately, someone else. Conventional wisdom would suggest that, anyway. Then again, neither of us are what I'd call conventional. Something might be made to work, if everyone involved knew, from the outset, that the situation is... complicated."

  "And what of Kyra?" Angie asked.

  "I don't know. My instinct is that it would be a waste of time, and would probably just end up annoying the hell out of her, but Mac isn't stupid, he knows her, and obviously, he's very perceptive. Still, I don't know. I do know one thing, though."

  "Which is?"

  "We're about to do the most dangerous thing we've ever attempted. I give us about a fifty-fifty chance of making it back alive, and that may be optimistic. Not going is not an option, though. Even if we fail, we'll still likely hurt them so badly, they'll have a very difficult time recovering."

  "I'm aware of all that", she said. "Are you worried that I won't cooperate, because I'm upset?"

  "That is a concern", I said, opting for honesty. "Not one I've considered seriously, though. No, it was time we had this talk. I need to know, without a doubt, that if I tell you to do something, you'll do it, even if it means the end of all of... this."

  "In other words, even if it means I'll be killing you", she said.

  "Believe me", I said, "When I say that if it comes to that, it won't have been my first choice. We may find it's necessary, assuming someone else doesn't beat you to the punch."

  "Whatever you ask, I'll do", she said, as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Just know this; if you have to die, you won't die alone."

  I had a lot to think about, and where we were wasn’t the place to do it. It was time to leave.

  “There’s no place like home”, I said.

  For the last time.

  Chapter 43

  "I'd love to hear about your little joyride, sometime", Kyra said, as she tapped at one of her vidscreens.

  "It's all in the ship's log", I said, which was true enough; it was all there, except for the parts I'd edited out. "You want to know anything beyond that, ask your Granddad."

  "I don't understand how they fo
und the shipyard so quickly", Eng said, ostensibly trying to change the subject. He'd been listening to Kyra needle me for two solid days, and I imagined he was getting tired of it. I know I was.

  "Mac says they already had a pretty good idea where it might be", I said. "The problem is, they couldn't just pop in and check it out. The addition of our information more or less confirmed what they'd thought."

  "A comparison of our star charts and their data provided the confirmation", Angie said.

  I'd privately mentioned the situation with Angie to Eng, on the off-chance that if there were problems with Angie, at least someone besides me would know what was going on. His only comment had been 'interesting', which, for Eng, was just short of an oh shit.

  "I hope they're right", he said. Silently, I agreed with him.

  "Worst case", Kyra said, "There's nothing there, and we just leave."

  "I suspect I have a better imagination than you", Eng said. "I'd hardly call nothing there the worst case. We run into a bunch of ships like this one, we're screwed."

  "There will be defenses", I said. "There may even be a couple of ships like ours. Nevertheless, we aren't alone this time. The UP is going to be plenty busy by the time we get there. We do this right, they won't even know we're there, until we're already gone."

  "Best laid plans of mice and men", Eng said, quietly. I ignored him.

  "It's the Admiral's opinion that the UP is counting on the shipyard being hidden to provide the bulk of its security", I said. "Otherwise, why hide it?"

  "Transit in thirty seconds", Angie said. We could hear the claxons and countdown as they blared below us.

  "Weapons systems online", Kyra said. I had a feeling that once we transited, we were going to be very busy.

  "The diversion should be underway", Eng said. As we waited, AIs in every government and corporate office, and in every comm center, began freezing systems. Most importantly, Speedlink was down, galaxy-wide. While everyone was still trying to figure out what was going on, we would hit the shipyard. The people there would certainly try and call for help, but no one would be listening.

  "Ten seconds", Angie said, and began her verbal countdown. "Transit engaged."