Dashing Devil Omnibus 2: Books 4-6, page 61
Chapter 4
Boyd chuckled and made a judgment call based on the personality Granny had displayed so far. After wrapping a wing around Tinker, he rumbled, “I might be mad enough to deliver a light spanking, but only if it would make you feel better.” He ended with a wink down at his smallest love.
Tinker’s cheeks went right back to a cherry red as Granny let out a delighted chortle.
Boyd grinned down at his love as he continued, “Was I mad at Silvie or Mindy for essentially tricking me into joining the rebels?”
“No,” Tinker replied shyly. “But that was different. You were literally being mind-controlled and they freed you from it. And you know… all of the other differences that made their secret so… well, different. What they did was all for you. Keeping Granny secret was for me.”
“Well, sure, but I still share the Bond with you. Don’t forget, I’ve been you. I knew you would be willing to hide someone from The Authority, but not someone I would have reason to be angry about. I’m sure Granny is an upright and moral AI who is nothing but helpful and has no desire to take over the world and subjugate us meat bags to her tireless overlordship.” Boyd grinned up at Granny’s image with the last line.
“Oh, certainly… not at my age,” Granny said and then chortled again. “Maybe if a charming devil such as yourself had asked me to when I was a couple hundred years younger. Although, I suppose I might still be convinced…” Her image flashed back briefly to the boudoir hottie. “Age is just a number after all.”
“Granny…” Tinker whined while Boyd chuckled. “Please stop making passes at my… Boyd.”
He tugged her a little closer at the possessive language, even if she’d been uncertain as to what label to apply to their relationship.
“That wasn’t a pass, dear.” Granny grinned. “That was inviting him to make a pass at me.”
Boyd could tell there was nothing behind the light flirtation other than messing with her shy granddaughter. That didn’t stop Tinker from giving him a worried look in her concern that he might take Granny up on the invitation. He gave Tinker a warm smile before turning back to Granny.
“I’m afraid that there is currently only room in my heart for one Bell woman—as lovely and impressive as you may be. Is this your… core?” He nodded to the cube he’d helped carry. “Again, I don’t mean to be rude, but my understanding is that AIs usually require quite a bit of hardware to maintain sentience.”
A twinkle entered Granny’s pale blue eyes as she replied. “Ah, it’s all thanks to my Nano Nebula, my dear. This tiny marvel of technology houses my consciousness in a highly efficient manner. It utilizes both nanotechnology and quantum computing, allowing me to operate at the highest level of sentience while remaining trim and portable.”
Boyd realized then that GRANNY was an acronym and he needed three more letters. He couldn’t help but be impressed. The semi-sentient AI that operated many of the functions of The Tower back in Glorith City had a six-hundred-square-foot core room and was considered advanced.
“That’s incredible, Granny.”
“Indeed, my boy.” Granny beamed at him, having obviously developed or been programmed with an ego. “Aiden Bell, my creator, was a visionary in the field of AI and nanotechnology. He managed to compress an immense amount of computing power into this little box by having nanomachines address the instability of quantum computing at this scale. It’s power intensive, but I think I’m worth it.”
“She’s why I’m able to make things so quickly,” Tinker added, becoming more animated, with her words picking up speed as she spoke. “She is fantastic at statistical modeling and also helps me access existing designs to modify and improve upon them. It works perfectly with my Power because I have to know about things to use them. She’s like… the perfect database with ideal search functionality. She also helps speed up the programing process… by a lot.”
“That’s wonderful.” Boyd smiled down at his tiny inventor, wondering if Granny might be part of why she had so much trouble accepting her own achievements.
“For all that, I’m not very creative.” Granny stepped in, assuaging his concerns immediately. “It’s right in my name, Generational Resource Assistant, Nano Nebula Yoda.” Boyd got the impression Aiden might have been reaching a little. “I’m a helper. Everything Tinker creates is the product of my wonderful granddaughter’s amazing mind. Such an amazing amount of smarts packed in that beautiful little package, don’t you think Boyd?”
“She impresses me every day.” Boyd smiled down at his little love.
“T-thank you.” Tinker’s cheeks flushed as she dropped her eyes.
But at least she’d accepted the compliment; this was progress.
“And thank you for helping make Tinker’s job easier, Granny.” Boyd turned back to Granny. “We’ll get you registered, so no one has to worry about you being separated from your granddaughter.”
“I’m a little curious about how you plan to get that done,” Granny replied. Her body language conveyed that she wasn’t questioning his ability to do it; she was telling him she was prepared to be impressed. She really was quite lifelike for a digital being.
“The rules are quite clear. You need to register an AI before activating it and The Authority insists on doing a deep review of the programming before they activate it under controlled conditions outside of the creator’s presence.”
“Yes, but we are Heroes, which gives us a few different avenues to consider.” Boyd gave a single-shoulder shrug. “The simplest being Tinker building herself a powered suit you can remotely integrate with.”
“The Hero’s Handbook makes it very clear that the registration and activation requirements apply to Heroes just the same as anyone else.” Granny frowned at him.
“The Hero’s Handbook does say that.” Boyd nodded his agreement. “But that is because it is a publicly available document where The Authority needs to display its firm stance against artificial sentience. Unfortunately, a few bad actors have created a negative image for all AI. But from the numbers that I’ve seen, most AI are happy doing whatever job they were intended to do and maintain basic social interactions.”
Granny nodded.
“But you have to look deeper than the average civilian either has the patience or access to for those numbers. If you have the patience and the access, you might discover that Heroes occasionally get AIs registered after activation and can even get around the programing review… depending on the circumstances.”
Boyd also suspected the patience for it required an asshole of a Mentor who insisted you review judicial decrees and rulings made by historic Tribunals, individual Directors, and the Judges appointed by influential Directors. He decided that part didn’t need to be said right now.
“Tinker never would let me access the legal databases.” Granny rolled her eyes.
“Access to those systems is extensively monitored.” Tinker sighed. “I was sure you would set off an alarm and get us caught.”
“For good reason,” Boyd rumbled and gave Tinker a reassuring squeeze. “They have their own AI monitoring it to detect things like changes in reading pace or even unusual shifts in research material. It was a pain in the ass, and flagged me at least once a month when I accessed the system regularly.”
“Oh?”
Boyd ignored the implicit question in Granny’s tone. “Anyway, the next steps are simple. You said she interacts with your Power?” Boyd asked Tinker.
“Mhmm.” Tinker nodded. “She gets me access to and organizes the raw data I need for my Power to work most efficiently.”
“Perfect. What does your activation log show, Granny?” Boyd turned back to the big screen.
“I wasn’t designed to keep such logs.” Granny smirked knowingly. She was likely designed specifically not to keep such logs.
“Perfect.” Boyd nodded. “We’ll have Royce file the paperwork to make it seem like Granny was accidently born out of a learning program for a powered suit Tinker is building herself. It will have to be pretty advanced to justify AI integration, but I don’t imagine that will be a problem for Tink.”
“Wait, why would I need to build myself a powered suit?” Tinker asked, tugging on his shorts where her hand still gripped his thigh.
He looped his tail along her pink knee sock-covered ankle in return.
“I don’t want a suit. I’m base support. Your gear has learning programming… couldn’t we just say she was born from that?”
“Because my gear isn’t advanced enough and, before you suggest it, I don’t want it to be.” Boyd smiled gently when Tinker pouted at him for cutting off her next suggestion. “I would have to train up on how to do field repairs on it, and well…” He wiggled his big crimson mitt that wasn’t still holding her tiny hand. “Equipment that qualifies typically involves a lot of fiddly bits too small for me to manipulate.”
“But… I don’t want to go back to the field.” Tinker kept pouting. “Why would they approve a powered suit for a base support?”
“Because you are base support to a Hero The Authority has deemed ‘irreplaceable’ and it might come in handy if he is ever attacked while on base.” Boyd smiled down at her. “You’ve seen our budget, right? Do you really think anyone will put up a stink about registering an AI that just might keep me from falling into outside hands?”
“I guess not.” Tinker blinked. “But… does it have to be a powered suit?” She gave Granny a nervous look.
He sensed a dread growing in Tinker. Not liking it at all, Boyd took a closer look. Gaining an understanding of the cause of his love’s emotions came a little easier after the boost he’d gained from Mindy’s having reached the Devoted level. Thanks to that, Boyd was able to discern that Tinker was about to lose a decade-long argument.
“A tech-user’s powered suit is the very pinnacle of their art,” Granny replied, revealing the nature of the argument. “You should have started working on it in middle school, dear. It is a travesty that you insist on wearing that tool rig instead.”
“Tech users who put on powered suits die,” Tinker replied firmly, stomping her foot. “All of them. The only exceptions to that are tech users who have at least some resistances.”
She pulled away from Boyd and looked up at him, a plea in her big hazel eyes. “Remember what you did to Archangel’s armor? You could do the same to your own. That’s as tough as armor comes. Powered suits don’t work.”
“Powered suits don’t work for brawling,” Boyd agreed. “Don’t design it for a brawl. Maximize maneuverability, then defense… and include some combat capability because a good offense can be the best defense. Your focus should be mid to long-range offense. Hit and run… with an emphasis on ‘run’.”
“Sort of like my bracelets?” Tinker asked, glancing down at the twin pink bands that had become a permanent part of her wardrobe.
“Exactly like your bracelets,” Boyd agreed and stepped over to pull her back under his wing. “If you design it so that you can get into it quickly enough, you’ll even be able to use it for half of your evasion training.”
“And something like that would get approval for an AI registration?” Tinker asked, still skeptical. “It sounds more like I would be running away than protecting you.”
“In most cases, running away will be the best way for you to protect me,” Boyd rumbled with a smile. “I love you Tinker, but you are squishy. I’m going to worry about you in any combat situation. You getting out of the fight will allow me to act more freely… just like sometimes I’ll have to get out of Silvie’s way.”
Tinker’s cheeks picked up a little extra heat at being called squishy. He knew she liked feeling vulnerable and small—specifically with him, if not the rest of the world.
“Okay. I guess I could design something for mobility and… maybe recon? That’s the role I seem to have filled so far with the team, when everyone is in the field.”
“That would be perfect.” Boyd nodded his agreement. “You don’t have to rush it, but I’ll feel a lot more comfortable once you have it. We can keep Granny hidden for a while longer, but why risk it? Now, I overheard a conversation about showing me something important enough for Granny to decide it was time to reveal herself.”
“You need to have it, and my granddaughter was right that you would start asking questions she isn’t a good enough of a liar to evade once she revealed it to you,” Granny replied with a smirk. “So I decided to just go ahead and rip the band-aid off.”
There was that band-aid term Royce occasionally used. He should really look it up sometime.
“Well, while I look forward to getting to know you better Granny…” Boyd smiled at the image of the perfect grandmother in her little cottage. “I did come to see Tinker to discuss something time-sensitive. Lives are at stake.”
“Yes, that poor missing girl…” Granny’s kindly and amused smile fell into a frown that didn’t quite appear natural on her face—not with such deep laugh lines. “You know that it is mostly likely too late to save her, don’t you?”
“I do.” Boyd returned the frown and added a slow nod. “We’ll try, but this is more about saving the next victim.”
Granny nodded. “This information is related, if not directly, and won’t take long to review.”
“Go ahead.” Boyd nodded again.
Granny vanished and the big, curved screen played a clip taken from a security camera posted on a street he recognized in Glorith City. The timestamp showed it was the opening moments of the Diamond Claws’ attack. Two civilians, a couple by all appearances who made the decision to seek shelter far too late, were fleeing a swooping monster.
Their fates were sealed.
That is, until a familiar leather-clad porter appeared from nowhere and vanished with the pair. The clip ended with the confused bird’s claws closing on the spot they’d occupied a moment before. Another clip showed the porter dropping the couple off in front of a nearby shelter. She disappeared a few seconds later.
A compilation of clips played that showed similar trips—the porter saved a total of seventeen civilians while Boyd was dealing with the attack at the shelter the fundamentalists had interfered with.
Seventeen men, women, and children owed their lives to the porter who sent the creatures who threatened them? That didn’t seem right.
The clip ended with a still image that gave Boyd his first good look at the porter who had tried to capture him, and his first thought was that she was beautiful. A mane of midnight hair streamed behind her determined expression. She had a rich, dark complexion but her almond-shaped eyes were a bright ocean blue, different from Silvie’s brighter silver-flecked ice blue or Hope’s deeper tone.
She had prominent, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and the tips of pointed ears jutted out of that black mane of hair. She had a sharp appearance that her full lips would probably soften when not pressed into the firm line of someone in the process of saving people.
“Where did you get this footage?” Boyd asked.
He had requested any available footage of the porter, only to have both standard channels and Tinker come up empty.
“I previously told you that it seemed like someone had pulled all footage of her,” Tinker replied. “Granny picked this up off the web from a discrete website that is mostly conspiracy theories but occasionally has useful tidbits of information on some things she tracks for me.
“Only a few hundred people visit it worldwide, but it’s where Granny got some of the information and footage I’ve shown you. It isn’t the first time this dark elf appeared there. Over the years, she has popped up several times to save Changed from… well, from being murdered. What seemed to be subordinates called her Stepper, and I should have recognized her from the description you gave… sorry. This was the first time she’s been documented saving non-Changed people, so I think that caused me to disassociate her from the porter that grabbed you.”
“Okay… so she saved some people.” Boyd pondered her motivation. “Many criminals experience guilt and save a few people when their actions start leading to deaths.”
“There is more,” Granny’s voice replied, though she didn’t reappear.
When another clip played, it took Boyd a minute to figure out what the jarring footage was of. The video showed a sky that was rising and falling in a familiar wing-flapping manner. Dozens of Diamond Claws flew along with the camera. A label in the bottom right corner read DC-F14 with a time stamp that showed the footage had been taken roughly forty minutes before the Diamond Claws’ attack on Glorith City.
Then, a pure white grav-sled entered the frame with its side panel door open. The footage was too blurry to make out much in the way of detail, but Boyd recognized Bell Corps’ golden bell-shaped icon on the side of it. Pulsed weapon fire spewed out the open panel. It splashed harmlessly against the S-Ranked defenses of the birds, but pissed them off anyway. The grav-sled then streaked off, presumably in the direction of Glorith City as the flock wheeled through the air to chase after the offending vehicle.
“So… Bell Corp antagonized the Diamond Claws… but why?” Boyd wondered if their stocks increased after an attack or something. They did sell personal defense equipment for the rich and powerful, so maybe it was a tactic to promote sales.
“Not Bell Corp,” Granny replied. The footage backtracked to a still of the grav-sled where it paused and zoomed in on an identifier. “This particular grav sled is on loan to Archangel’s little social group.”
“He couldn’t honestly have expected the Diamond Claws to kill me.” Boyd rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past the Blonde Buffoon; it was certainly a dumb enough plan.
“If I had to guess, he just wanted to ruin the press conference for you defeating Omega Ray.” Tinker’s voice contained an apology that didn’t belong there. “It would certainly be like him.”
