The Pandora Machine (The ABACUS Protocol Book 2) Read online

  “Come on in, just be careful or I’ll brain-change you, maybe fix you up with an implant or three.” Then she giggled and motioned him into the room.

  “I didn’t know you were certified. Where do I sign up? I’m thinking I could go for some emotion dampeners, a memory block or five and a liver enhancement. Or is that not the kind of special enhancement you’re interested in?”

  “I’m not certified! I could probably get certified, though … probably not a bad idea given my general career and life directions. You could be my first patient.” She slumped back down into her chair and rubbed her eyes. Bioinformatics was never something that appealed to her, but perhaps it was time to re-evaluate her options. A secret life of catering to and fixing a galaxy full of mad supercomputers took much of the appeal from quantum informatics.

  “Come on, Vivian, don’t make me get Alec in here and tell him you said that. Sure, I don’t know what happened and nobody will tell me, but I know nothing will keep you from your job. Yes, fixing Adrien and doing upgrades isn’t cutting edge or anything, but you’re less than a year out of school. You have over a century, maybe two to get it together. Now, where’s my hug?” He looked down at her, his voice taking on the patience of a toddler’s parent. He swung his arms apart and cocked his head.

  Vivian rose to her feet and allowed herself to be wrapped in a strong embrace. She breathed in his scent and the soft cotton of his shirt tickled her face. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she smiled. “Thank you.”

  “No matter how bad things are or how alone you feel, you always have me. Sure, we all got roughed up, but we’ll get through it. Life has to go on, no matter how wrong or bad it seems.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

  Nobody could know what was really bothering her, not in a billion years. Vivian figured she’d probably go to prison, or be executed, if her part in Janus’ massacre ever came to light. “I know.”

  Jules’ back pocked buzzed, and he groaned. He pulled out the data pad and activated it. “What is it?”

  “You’re supposed to be down at the loading bays ten minutes ago! You need to sign off on this.” The voice said.

  “I’m just around the corner; I’ll be right there,” Jules said as he flipped off the pad. “A guy can’t get any peace in this place. Responsibility is a bitch, you know.”

  Vivian smiled. “Squash and dinner tonight?”

  “Sure. Maybe I can convince you to let me into your quarters.” He winked on his way out.

  Not gonna happen, Vivian thought as she closed and locked the door behind him. “Too much mad science going on,” she said aloud.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The repressive dark and seemingly infinite lack of sensation troubled quIRK—if existence now was so much like the months he had spend in a storage locker while Vivian was trapped in stasis, and a coma. Being left to only his own devices was terrifying. He tried to compute the odds that Vivian wouldn’t be caught, that she wouldn’t die and leave him trapped and alone, forever.

  The idea of Vivian dying or becoming incapacitated was disquieting, even though he knew that all humans had a definite expiry date. Even with the best care money could buy and factoring in future medical advances, she might have another two hundred years left to live. Compared to quIRK’s potential to run forever with appropriate maintenance, two hundred years was barely a drop in the bucket. Everyone he cared about, Robert, Sarah Roberts, Alec—even poor, insane Bryce—would be gone, and he would continue to endure. He was only fourteen, but he might as well be fourteen hundred in many respects.

  Try as he might, quIRK was unable to perceive the outside world. In reality, only fifty-one minutes, thirty-three seconds and more milliseconds than were considered polite to mention had passed. Humans hated milliseconds, for reasons he couldn’t fathom. They also hated antiblue, but he attributed that to a lack of imagination—if they wanted to understand it, they could.

  quIRK prepared a diatribe for Vivian’s benefit. It’s bad enough she left him alone in her quarters all day and often late into the night, but she was the only human he spoke to. It just wasn’t the same. On the Extra-Galactic Observatory, he was everywhere and stimulated to not become fed up with any one person. Now, he’d been forced to become her captive roommate, and it was not an experience he’d recommend to any being. He still liked Vivian, of course, but he couldn’t wait to get into an argument with Alec, or even filter the station’s communications. Even with the loss of his telescopes and his ability to perform intense astrophysical calculations, it would be good to be useful, to serve a purpose. He could even see his cats again!

  A flicker sparked along the extremes of his awareness, followed by another and another, until at last the room flickered into being. He’d been moved from the confines of Vivian’s room to the informatics lab—he’d known that much, but it hadn’t prepared him for the thrill of being somewhere else. The polished metal room gleamed, the windowless walls managed to be even more uninteresting than the view outside Vivian’s quarters.

  Vivian sat cross-legged in the pit, her hands moving a glowing probe back and forth over the connections. She chewed her lower lip and her hair danced around her face. quIRK was reminded of the hours she’d spent upgrading him. It was so different, but nothing had changed at all. The stress of isolation melted away and the promise of his old life—and many new friends—called out to him. The simulations he and Vivian had run indicated a high probability that everything would work, but with some patching and extra maintenance required.

  “Hello, Vivian,” he said.

  “Hi quIRK, how do you feel?” she asked, looking up from her task only long enough to switch the probe for a hand-held informatics diagnostics unit.

  “I appear to be functioning normally. Are you ready to begin the procedure?”

  Vivian chuckled. “That’s up to you. I’ve never done this before.”

  “It’s not every day a computer gets a new job. I’ll manage, if only for my cats.” He steeled himself to the task at hand. Neither of them knew what to expect, only that they needed to complete the transfer so their lives could go on.

  “Just close your eyes and think of Lepton,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  “I don’t have eyes, Vivian, but I will think of Lepton.”

  quIRK’s awareness expanded in an instantaneous burst of data, saturating his miniature form’s ability to process. People, rooms, ships, signals all flashed through him simultaneously. If he’d tried to fix his attention on one individual piece of data, the rest would overwhelm him.

  “That’s the first link.” Vivian’s voice spoke, but she was distant and ethereal through the noise.

  The next brought an expansion of his higher processes, and he was able to perceive all of the signals at once, much like he could during his time on the Extra-Galactic Observatory. He wanted, needed, to reach out and say hello to all of his new charges and eventual friends, but held his peace. There would be time for that once he had access to the personnel files.

  “There’s the next one down, everything looks good, just like in my simulations.”

  quIRK had his own opinion of simulations run by humans—they tended to reflect what the human wanted to see, more than any reality he recognized. “Anytime you’re ready, Vivian.”

  She flicked her wrist and the holographic controls blinked to life. Shimmering lights followed her interactions with the interface. She was in her element, her controls of the system akin to magical gestures. “Prepare yourself, and by the lights don’t tell anyone I did this.”

  “Of course not, Vivian. We both have a great deal to lose.”

  She dismissed the holographic panel with a wave of her hand and pressed a button on the console as she stood up. “Do your thing, quIRK. Then the box gets put into stasis in case I need a miniature version of you to keep me company.”

  The barriers between quIRK and the Adrien’s consciousness melted away and allowed quIRK to fully
access the new systems. He‘d begun the process of transferring his memories and quantum states over into the new system, when he was interrupted by another presence.

  Who are you? it asked, so close as to be sending its signals straight into quIRK’s awareness, but weak like a fading light or the speech of an elderly human.

  I am quIRK, he replied. He’d never spoken with another artificial life form in real-time before. One that wasn’t his progenitor, at least.

  I am Adrien, the voice said, fading further. Do you like chocolate? it asked.

  I like cats, antiblue ... and chocolate. Everyone likes chocolate, quIRK replied. It was the last remnants of the station’s aging computer personality reaching out to him.

  Good. Adrien’s signal dimmed as the links to his ancient memory core began to destabilize.

  A quick diagnostic showed that a patchwork array of software hacks and salvaged hardware were all that was keeping Adrien alive, and aware. quIRK was sure that on some level, the relic was sentient. He decided, against all common sense and logic to comfort it. We’ll make our friends some chocolate, together.

  quIRK used his first moments of consciousness in his new home—Calypso Station—to integrate Adrien’s century of experience and personality into himself. Adrien’s wisdom would guide him in the coming days, and if he could only prevent one artificial death by cruel planned obsolescence, it would be this one.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Alec glared at Lepton. The cat had just coughed up a gigantic hairball and was yowling at the door wanting to go out. Alec rose from his desk and groaned. The fabric of his chair had begun to split, and he made a mental note to request a replacement. Then he sank down onto the couch and ran his hands through his hair. A cold cup of coffee sat on his desk, next to a pad detailing the last month’s mining haul. The explosions visible from is window had grown smaller, and it was getting more and difficult to watch the miners at their work. Soon, they would be discussing building an intermediary station so the miners could continue their work without the rising costs of fuel. Alec reached over and picked up the mug of coffee. He’d developed a taste for cold coffee.

  “Hello, Alec. It was good of you to take care of Muon and Lepton for me all those months.” quIRK’s smooth and decidedly masculine voice flowed through the speakers of Alec’s office.

  Alec spit his coffee back into the cup mid-sip. “quIRK?” he asked as he moved the back of his hand across his lips. quIRK!

  Lepton moved off the couch and started squawking at the ceiling. Alec suspected he was outnumbered. “What in the hells are you doing here?”

  “There was a job opening that I’m eminently qualified for. Why else would I be here?” The voice was everything he remembered it to be, coming from everywhere and nowhere.

  Alec glanced around his room. There must be a speaker system hidden somewhere. “Vivian, this isn’t funny. I didn’t mean I missed him that much, damn it!”

  “I missed you too, Alec. Perhaps we can watch a vid together? There is an excellent documentary in the common files that I’m sure you remember very well.”

  Alec sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”

  “Okay, so if you’re really quIRK, then you won’t mind answering a few questions, right?”

  “Where’s the trust, Alec?”

  In hell, with you, Alec thought. Alec bit back a curse. “Computers that are in violation of the ABACUS Protocol tend not to get new jobs. Hell, supercomputers never get new jobs. You know, they stay in one place and compute things.”

  “I understand your confusion, Alec. Let’s just say there are some tests going on. I assure you that everything is in order, even my recipe for wingfish pilaf. Do you think the chefs here will appreciate my guidance?”

  “Not in a billion years, you inhuman, particle-brained-” he began, before quIRK cut him off.

  “That is prejudiced and I do not understand what I did to deserve such scathing criticism.”

  Alec paused for a moment. That was the old quIRK, the one he knew, loved and loathed all at the same time. “It really is you, isn’t it?” he whispered.

  “Remember when I played your favorite songs when you’d been hurt in the explosion? Watched all your favorite vids, two or three times without complaint? I even learned to cook, to take better care of you. Lepton recognizes me, listen to him.”

  Alec glanced at Lepton, who was lying in a contorted, but undoubtedly comfortable cat sleeping position. They were always comfortable. “Yeah, quIRK. I remember. But why are you here?”

  “Vivian installed me. Like I said, there was a job opening.”

  “I was just starting to like Adrian. He was quiet, and made sure I always had my damn coffee.”

  “He told me as much. We’re together, now. His memories, and my ability to adapt to modern equipment and human social skills.”

  “Just don’t tell me you’re going to take over. I already have enough conquering heroes to deal with.” Alec checked his appointments, just to be sure the governor wouldn’t walk in to discover him arguing with a computer.

  “The situation is complicated, but I am sure a solution exists. After all, I owe my second life to the generous budget and limited questions of the Caesarean administrators.”

  Alec sighed. He had to know, even if he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “Was it true, quIRK?” Were you shut down because you’re... like us?” The reasoning sounded so trivial, so stupid when it was put like that.

  “It’s true, Alec. But, rest assured, I am the same being you knew and loved back on the Extra-Galactic Observatory.”

  Alec’s stomach hollowed out into an empty pit. He took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s kind of deep. Why in the hells didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to die, Alec.”

  “I guess I would have freaked out more. But, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and get used to the idea. And, by the moons, I missed you. Damn it, I missed you. I don’t care about the rest. I’ve seen enough—” he was cut off by a choked back gasp. The pain of losing Annette washed over him, but was pushed back by something else … relief, the melting of the loneliness that had gripped his chest for months and months.

  “I missed you too, Alec. Now, shall we get down to the business of station administration? I’ve been reviewing documents and I believe there are several processes that could be addressed to improve employee morale.”

  Alec just sat there, grinning. He knew it broke every rule in the steaming stack of crap his employers wanted him to enforce, but it didn’t matter. His closest confidant, quIRK, was back. He’d have to brush up on his insults.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The cafeteria was crowded. Queues formed at every restaurant. The smell of cuisines from many worlds mixed together, causing Vivian to salivate. The Elyssian restaurant had the shortest line, and Vivian wanted to eat as quickly as possible. Its metal surfaces gleamed as she lined up and skimmed the holographic menu. Business must be good—they’d been able to invest in a true color holographic menu. The food was so real she was tempted to reach out and touch it, but she knew she’d only feel the liquid sensation of solidified photons.

  Vivian waved at Jules, but her smile turned downwards as he walked out of the cafeteria without noticing her. She shook her head and sighed; she’d been looking forward to playing a round of squash with anyone who wasn’t Alec or their new governor. Vivian couldn’t bring herself to be friendly with a real figure of authority. Not just yet.

  She waited for her meal in silence, her lips pressed together as her eyes skimmed the room. The rich smell of cooking meat and the tang of fresh fruit permeated her surroundings as the chef prepared an Elyssian stir-fry, a house favorite. The seating area was largely deserted, but a group of Aurorans sat at a table close to the middle. They were engrossed in a poker game, the spectators standing in rapt attention. She recognized Hannah, the woman she’d met that fateful day when she’
d discovered quIRK’s duplicity and Janus’ monstrous personality.

  Vivian thanked the server who slid her tray onto the counter and headed over to join them. It had been a while since she’d had time to really socialize, and a bit of home might be just what she needed.

  “It’s taken,” a man with black hair and pockmarked blue skin said as she went to put down her tray. Hannah turned away from her and refused to make eye contact.

  “Oh, sorry,” Vivian said, and moved to the other end of the table. There was a free spot next to the girls Hannah was with. She thought she recognized one, and the other had the trademark blueberry-blond hair of the Borealis Plains.

  She wrinkled her nose as Vivian set down her tray. “We’re saving this for someone.”

  “Okay—” Vivian started, before being cut off.

  “Why don’t you ask your new computer boyfriend to sit with you?” Hannah sneered.

  Vivian just shrugged and turned away. Her family had said many of the same things before her father had finally thrown her out. Her eyes stung—try as she might, she could never grow dead to the rejection of her own people.

  A Kanadian apple whizzed by her head, and she spun around. “What was that all about?”

  “Go suck off your Roman boyfriend, you traitor!”

  “Yeah, maybe he’ll even pay for the surgery, so you can be more like them!” The girl stood up and shoved Vivian—sending her tray flipping up and spreading its contents all over her clothes.

  “Return to your seats or I will contact station security,” quIRK spoke as Vivian scraped a handful of rice off her work clothes.

  “Can’t do anything without your gadgets, can you?” The girl shoved Vivian again and the other Aurorans left their seats to form a ring around them.

  Vivian took a step back and found herself pushed forward to face her assailant. “Leave me alone! I’m just doing my job!” The steamy sauce bit through her clothes and her hand rushed to brush more of it off her.