The ABACUS Protocol Page 16

  “Well, I don’t want to make any promises, but we should figure out a way to make you portable. That way, you can see whatever you want,” she said.

  “A portable supercomputer?” quIRK asked. Portability was usually reserved for digital systems. Paranoia made quantum computers into a high security matter by default, and not to be relegated to the tote bags of the galaxy.

  “It should be possible, but we’d need to cut down a huge amount of extras. Kind of like backing up a digital system, but we’d only copy over the quantum states relating to your personality and, well, memories.”

  “I suppose such a theoretical portable computer wouldn’t need to know how to administrate a space station, do highly specialized astronomical calculations or regulate a fusion reactor,” he said.

  “Mostly you’d look pretty, act witty and interface with computers that can already do the rest for you,” Vivian said. The idea could work. She’d need to spend hours drafting schematics, but she should have all of the parts she’d need in storage. How hard could it be? She’d designed a basic quantum computer from scratch as part of her thesis.

  “I never thought pretty would be among my attributes, though witty I manage quite well,” said the machine.

  “Some qualities are immutable, you know,” Vivian said, rolling onto her back after making the final connection. “Test the new memory circuits now,” she added, looking up at the dim lights that ran along the tunnel’s upper edges.

  “I’ll take your word for it. Commencing test,” quIRK said. Vivian used her feet to propel herself towards the exit of the tube, with her bag in tow. She didn’t feel up to righting herself and crawling.

  She pulled herself from the tube, and stretched once she’d forced her body to stand upright. She didn’t have time to pamper herself. She’d finished early as a result of not investigating the memory bubble as she had originally planned. Vivian smiled to herself, and took a seat at her desk terminal. Now, she only reported to quIRK, her newfound partner and star-crossed friend.

  She brought up the drafting software. She was going to do what no human had done before, or even dreamed was feasible. She was going to show quIRK his tree, and liberate him from the Extra-Galactic Observatory before smaller, less accepting minds dismantled him for the crime of being different.

  It was a travesty she knew all too well. If she could prevent just one injustice, it would be this one.

  Thirty-Five

  “Damn it quIRK, I said an Earth turkey for the roast, not a New Albion dodo marinated in fungus oil,” Alec said, slamming his fist against the terminal. quIRK was going to ruin Old Mis if he continued to propose these insane substitutions. It was only a few minutes until the dinner hour started, and Alec had only just managed to squeeze in the time to work out the meal’s macronutrient programming.

  “New Albion dodo is a delicacy, and the files for Earth turkey are over one hundred years old. There have been at least five breakthroughs in replication science since then,” quIRK said. Alec hated it when he had a point, especially on an important technicality.

  “I don’t care about delicacies, and I am not having anything with the word fungus in it with my Old Mis dinner. Give me a more appropriate bird,” Alec said, cursing the animal export laws. He’d have a damn turkey if they’d been allowed to ship live animals before the ABACUS incident. He remembered his great-grandfather raving about the year he’d spent the holidays on Earth, and their turkeys. Alec wanted something other than Elyssian flying shark this year.

  “Perhaps Kanadia Prime’s giant quail would be closer to the spirit of the meal,” quIRK replied.

  “Yeah, we’ll go with that. Now, about dessert, something chocolate would be appropriate, and you may use your discretion,” Alec said. There was no way quIRK could screw up chocolate. The feat would be beyond even quIRK’s considerable lack of culinary talents.

  “Chocolate, really? Why not pie? Everybody likes pie,” quIRK said.

  “You know, make it a chocolate pie and we have an acceptable compromise,” Alec said. He was not going to admit to being wrong to that damned machine. Something about quIRK had changed since Bryce had been ousted. Maybe the constant stream of profanity and bigoted insanity coming out of the man was influencing quIRK more than they realized.

  “Very well. Will you sign off on the rest?” quIRK asked, flashing the display in front of Alec.

  “Yes, it is excellent. Tonight, we shall feast like kings!” Alec declared, taking the opportunity to be dramatic for no good reason.

  “Actually, you’re eating like twenty first century peasants engaging in a deliberate orgy of consumerism,” quIRK retorted.

  “Well, this is the thirtieth century, and we can eat however we like. Be glad I didn’t demand we celebrate Saturnalia,” Alec said.

  “I didn’t realize you held Bryce in such high regard,” quIRK said.

  “What, no! Don’t say things like that, it’s insulting. Insult creatures who deserve it, like Bryce, or Lepton,” he said.

  “Caesarea is the only planet that celebrates the full length of Saturnalia. It ends today,” quIRK said.

  “Yeah, and his idea of starting the festivities was trying to kill us, and murdering Devon. How Roman of him,” Alec said, glowering. He was still angry at the ordeal, and he doubted that his feelings would change for a long time. He hated going to see Bryce, and looking at his smug, superior face that judged him without knowing or understanding him. At least Alec wasn’t in Vivian’s position. He’d been shooting down Bryce’s speculation that she would make an excellent servant for weeks. Alec didn’t intend to tell her about the mean-spirited threats, though he would suggest that she never visit Caesarea, especially if what Bryce claimed about offworlder rights was true.

  “You seem upset about more than that, Alec,” quIRK said.

  “It’s the stuff Bryce says about Vivian. He seems like some kind of insane caricature, but he’s real, and he’s locked in a room just down the hall. It really bothers me that somebody could really be that awful, especially a person who isn’t in a history book.” Alec usually confided in quIRK. Maybe talking about his problems would help. After all, quIRK was just a machine; a computer that was very good at pretending to be a real person. He considered nicknaming quIRK Pinocchio, but he suspected that the computer would feign offense.

  “I see a very different face of humanity than you do, Alec. Such prejudices are more common than you think. However, I have observed that most humans are conditioned to hide their ignorance, rather than embrace it. People confide in me what they will not admit to another of your species, and thus I experience a more honest version of humanity than you ever will,” quIRK said.

  “I’m sorry I asked,” he said with a sigh.

  “Why do you say that?” quIRK asked.

  “Because I wanted to hear that people aren’t like this, that he’s one sick and twisted little man, not that everybody is secretly more like him!” he said, despair threatening to overwhelm him.

  “I can see how my previous statement may have been distressing,” quIRK said. “However, you must look at the positive side. People who are secretly bigoted know it’s something to be ashamed of, or at least not to be mentioned out of a need for self-preservation. Besides, Vivian can take care of herself. It’s good that you’re choosing to talk to me about this, rather than her. Please also keep in mind that I’ve submitted a report to the New Damascus Science Authority with a preliminary diagnosis of space sickness for Bryce. He is a very sick man.”

  “See, even you know that!” Alec said. He paused for a moment before continuing: “She’s been really busy lately; I don’t want to add to her problems with things that shouldn’t matter.”

  “I understand,” quIRK said. “Right now, she needs her friends to stay strong and focused. However, Vivian has taken on many new responsibilities, and needs time to adjust to doing the jobs of two or three people.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Alec, allowing his feelings of fr
ustration and inadequacy to surface. “The Moons know how well I’ve been adapting to doing the same thing. I’m not a damn physicist, or even an engineer. I just fix machinery and keep things together around here.

  “It’s what you do best, Alec. Has there ever been a machine invented that you can’t figure out?” quIRK asked.

  “Well, no,” Alec said, closing off the controls on his terminal. The unspoken truth was that he could fix any machine that wasn’t quIRK. But, did quIRK even need fixing?

  “Then, logically, it is only a matter of time before you start teaching Robert about his own machines,” quIRK said.

  Alec hoped he was right. “Is that what the probabilities tell you?” he asked.

  “That, as well as almost a year’s worth of intense study. Now, we need to begin serving. Old Mis is your holiday, not theirs, after all.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t miss it,” he said, getting up from his desk. He always had to brace himself for the jump in gravity. He secretly envied Vivian——she could go anywhere in the galaxy, other than the forbidden mountains of Elyssia.

  “I believe it is good for morale. Perhaps there are more special occasions that we should investigate celebrating,” quIRK continued.

  Alec wondered what had made the machine so chatty lately—at least he wanted to party, not debate favorite colors and cat names. The Moons knew that anything was an improvement over that lunacy. “Like Galactic Cat Day, maybe?” he asked, cringing at how obvious his sarcasm was.

  “I know you’re being facetious,” said quIRK, “but perhaps there is room in the universe for such an esteemed occasion.”

  “Maybe we can all eat cat food in solidarity with our furry little friends,” suggested Alec. “The door slid open, and Alec stepped into the hallway as he sucked in a deep breath.

  “That is not advisable,” said quIRK. “Perhaps wingfish pilaf would be a more appropriate meal.”

  “It was a joke, quIRK,” Alec said, walking down the hall. He avoided looking at the door to Devon’s quarters as he passed it.

  “So you don’t feel solidarity with my cats?” quIRK asked.

  “I didn’t say that. I just mean that eating cat food is not a—” Alec began, but he was cut off as he suddenly bumped into Vivian on his way through the dining hall’s doors.

  “Alec! I was about to call for you,” she said. “quIRK is making food,” she added, wrinkling her nose at the mention of the word food.

  Alec pushed past her into the dining hall, and was greeted to the sight of loaded trays and Robert seated at a table, digging into the meal with a big smile on his face. Alec stood, confused with his mouth hanging open.

  Vivian slapped Alec on the back, laughing. “You should see your face; I had you going!” she said.

  “Ow! What?” Alec asked, as he winced and rubbed his shoulder. Vivian needed to learn her own strength, especially when considering his light frame.

  “It’s great, you should try some,” Robert said through a mouthful of food.

  Alec managed a bewildered laugh. “Yeah, you really did,” he said to Vivian. “I guess I’ll take a tray over to Mister Personality and then rejoin you guys,” he said, managing not to regress into a stuttering mess.

  “Yuck. Have fun!” Vivian said, returning to her seat.

  Alec picked up a tray, and walked out the door back to the hallway. Bryce was in the only inhabited crew quarters on the alpha-side, as he insisted on being segregated from the rest of the staff. Alec hoped some horrible accident would befall Bryce—such as choking on his dinner—but he knew as the only person on board with emergency medical training he’d be required to touch the man as soon as quIRK reported trouble. Perhaps a very specific radiation leak would be better. Alec couldn’t believe he was envisioning dangerous radioactive waste as a vehicle for positive change.

  He came up to the door, and steeled himself before giving quIRK a nod to open the door. Bryce was sitting at his desk, surrounded by the various tapestries and regal-looking banners that had once covered his office walls. Alec fought hard to not show his revulsion. “Dinner is served, Imperator,” he said, sneering.

  “Ah, Alec. It is good that you understand how to properly address a man of my political stature and greatness,” Bryce said, standing up from his desk.

  “I’m addressing a psychopathic madman with space sickness on Old Mis. Now, where do you want your tray, Nero?” Alec said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m perfectly sane, my boy—more aware of the truth than you will ever be able to appreciate. But, you know, I’ve always liked you, Alec. You perform your duties without question, and with a passion and focus that many of your airy-minded Elyssian brethren lack. Despite being a genetic regressive from a world too unlike Earth to support true civilization, I think you could be molded into something greater than you are, in service to a great cause,” the man said, as he drew closer, his eyes wide and his hair in disarray.

  “I don’t care if you’re the Galactic Hegemon herself, I am not following anyone as slimy and bigoted as you,” Alec said, his voice lowering to a growl. Elyssia was a paradise, and his home—there was nothing regressive or uncivilized about it.

  “Your loss. Maybe your little friend Vivian would consider being a concubine. She does have a certain exotic charm. My mother might even approve, once I introduce them,” the man said, taking the tray from Alec’s numb hands. Alec’s thoughts lacked cohesion; he was overwhelmed with an indignant rage.

  “If you so much as even look at her—” Alec began, but was cut off as Bryce slammed his tray into his stomach, causing him to fly back into the hall, food splattering on the floor. Before Alec could right himself or breathe, Bryce was upon him. Alec raised his arms to shield his face as the tray was brought down onto the top of his head, hitting the already sensitive injury.

  “Bryce, stop this. I have notified the others,” quIRK said.

  “Stop,” Alec cried out as the thin tray snapped over his arms. The point of impact stung, and he groaned, trying to position his legs under himself for a counter-attack. His vision blurred, and the bump on his head throbbed from the renewed irritation.

  “Bryce, this is not appropriate behavior,” quIRK repeated. Bryce dropped the remaining half of the tray and stood over Alec’s hunched and shaking form. “Neither is breaking the ABACUS Protocol, but that didn’t stop you now did it?” he announced as Vivian and Robert charged down the hallway.

  “What in the Hells are you doing, Bryce? Get back in your damn room now!” Robert shouted, inserting himself between Alec and Bryce like a human shield. Vivian stooped down next to Alec, and he turned his sore neck to look at her. A look of shock and horror was framed on her finely featured face. Her paleness served to augment the blue tones in her skin.

  “I am teaching that brat a lesson for defying his betters,” Bryce growled, redirecting his attention to Robert. “Even you can understand that discipline is necessary!”

  “This isn’t discipline, this is brutality!” Vivian said, as she directed her wide eyes to meet Bryce’s glare. Robert grabbed Bryce’s shoulders and tried to push the man back into his room. Bryce pivoted on one leg, and pushed Robert back. When Robert tried to steady himself, he stepped in a pile of mushy food and slipped, crashing down to the floor next to Alec.

  To Alec’s horror, Bryce turned his attention to Vivian. “Just you and me, little girl. quIRK can’t save you now!” he taunted, delivering a sharp kick to Robert’s gut as he stepped over the man.

  “Stay back!” Vivian shouted, pulling herself to her feet with such force that she briefly left the ground.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Bryce said with a sneer, and reached towards her. Alec swallowed, and tried to shuffle to his feet, fighting the nausea and dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him as he fought the heavy gravity. However, his actions were far too slow. Before he could right himself, Vivian threw a punch that was so fast he could not see her hand. It connected with Bryce’s face with such force that an audi
ble crack could be heard. Before his eyes could fully process the first strike, she’d thrown another punch, which connected squarely with Bryce’s leering smile, still frozen on his face. Bryce lurched to the floor, unmoving. Vivian stood frozen in place, trembling and mute.

  Robert groaned and rolled onto his hands and knees while Alec struggled to his feet. “Damn, Vivian, I didn’t know you could box!” he said as he tested his balance.

  “Only in the gym,” she mumbled. She looked down at Robert as he knelt, clutching his stomach. She knelt next to the man, her legs shaking and unsteady. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I just wasn’t ready for that last one,” he said, struggling to catch his breath.

  “Well, I know who I’m buying a beer for when they get us back to New Damascus,” Alec said, nudging Bryce with his foot. He was impressed; the man appeared to be completely unconscious. Maybe he’d been too overprotective of Vivian, even though his desire was to shield her from Bryce’s hateful comments, rather than to get involved in a physical altercation.

  “Buy her one for me, too,” quIRK said.

  “I’m almost afraid to think of what her alcohol tolerance is,” Robert said, still wheezing.

  Vivian blushed, a deep red mingling into her bluish tones, and tried to look away. “No, that’s okay,” she said in a voice close to a whisper, staring at the greasy strands of hair clinging to the bald spot on the top of Bryce’s head. Alec fought down the urge to hug her, because she was shaken and despondent. He knew she wasn’t a violent person, and that her attack had been in self-defense, to protect her friends.

  “Okay, let’s get that thing locked up again, and we can have dessert and write statements,” Alec said, trying to take charge. He wasn’t going to let Bryce ruin Old Mis.

  “Sounds good to me,” Vivian said, standing up straight before grabbing Bryce by the ankle and dragging him back into his quarters. Alec couldn’t help but chuckle. He hoped this encounter would encourage Bryce to think twice before threatening Vivian next time the opportunity presented itself. Alec realized the man was probably beyond redemption, but figured he was at least capable of learning from pain.