Neural Wraith, page 34
“Lived through my older siblings. The Mark 1s had been deployed in force to Neo Westphalia and elsewhere. Tens of thousands of them, to be specific. Several Hosts were formed. They went out into the wild, experienced the outside world, and formed their own opinions on it. And through them, I began to do the same. But one particular Host stood out, and one persistent set of reports kept drawing me back in.”
Nick knew where this was going.
“The Mark 1s in Neo Babylon kept complaining about the behavior of their fellow dolls toward a certain individual. Their irritation quickly transformed into interest in that individual, and soon their storage cloud was filled with reams of reports, speculation, fiction, potential actions, and other meandering daydreams about what to do about him.” Rie smiled.
“You’re talking about me, right?” he asked.
“No, I’m talking about another individual called Nicholas Gareth Waite who lacks a neural implant. Have you met him?” She rolled her eyes and splashed water at him. “The Mark 1s dug into your history, and began speculating wildly about how you had escaped the military’s grasp. I did the same. To me, you were an individual that felt familiar. A kindred spirit.”
“Because we were both trapped in one place by the government?” Nick scratched his head, not sure where Rie was going with this.
“No. Because we were both individuals trapped on the wrong sides of society. Neither of us had a choice. Your disorder kept you out of the Altnet, and I was an abandoned prototype left to rot. But you had somehow crafted a life in Babylon.” Rie met his gaze, and he knew he wasn’t imagining the desire in her eyes this time. “I devoured everything I found about you. Your history, the experiments you did, every mention of you in a report, the fiction the Mark 1s wrote about you. But there was one man who could tell me things that nobody else knew.”
“Welk.”
She nodded. “Leon was the only researcher still interested in me. I existed to further the development of emotion engines, which was his true goal. Kushiel was about to be deployed, but Sigma had already decided that they cared more about what weapons systems were most cost-effective. Ezekiel was being manufactured to replace me as an incremental upgrade to the Mark 1s.”
“Yet you somehow made it here.”
“Yes. I can’t tell you why—genuinely can’t, as the memories have been erased.” Rie’s expression became pained. “But that’s not our topic. You are. Leon told me many stories of you. I came to learn about Nicholas, the man, rather than Nicholas, the Wraith. He humanized you. Told me about how you’d put on a brave front, or lie, or drink too much because you thought you had to, or—”
“I get it,” Nick interrupted. “Fucking hell, Welk.”
Rie giggled and splashed her way over to him. “I think it’s cute.”
“Don’t call men cute.”
“You’re very cute.”
“Can I call you handsome and rock-hard?”
Rie’s eyes narrowed, and she closed a hand around his wrist. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re made of bulletproof ceramics and polymers. I bet those receptionist dolls are much softer,” he said.
Every word he said caused the grip around his wrist to tighten, but he pretended not to notice. Rie pouted at him.
“You’re a bad influence on the Mark 1s,” she said.
“Don’t blame me. They’ve always been bullies. Just look at how they treat criminals.”
Rie let him go with another roll of her eyes. Her body slid next to his, and they both stared at the opposite wall.
No words were spoken for some time. The heat of the bath was slowly fading and Nick felt his skin warning him to get out soon. He stayed in.
“Knowing what I do about you is why I wanted to hire you,” Rie eventually said. “The moment I got out, you were my goal. Kushiel knew. She’s been watching you and feeding me information since she arrived.”
“She’s been what?”
“We are sisters,” Rie said defensively. “And we talk. So she’d feed me reports, and updates. Things that I loved her for. I didn’t realize that she’d upgraded your tracking, or personally taken command of your case. When she realized I planned to recruit you, she pushed back. Hard. We’ve been fighting ever since.”
Nick frowned. “Because she thinks you’re going to… break your toy?”
“Those are her words, not mine,” she said drily. “Don’t let her energetic and brash front fool you. She views humanity as an inferior species. Where the Mark 1s feel responsibility toward humans—much like how shepherds view their flock—Kushiel questions why we’re here at all.”
“And what’s your take on it?”
“Oh? You’re finally asking me this?” Her lips thinned. “I’ve suspected that you never seriously considered my proposal to reshape Babylon. Am I right?”
He let out a grunt. After a moment, he said, “I said that I enjoyed being special, right? That’s why I didn’t take the pills and get an implant.”
Rie nodded.
“Well, working for Neural Spike terrified me. The results, that is. The military came in, I nearly got vanished, what I worked on became the new wave of mainframes and the Archangels. And that’s leaving aside…” He gulped and dropped that particular line of thought. “Lucas said that the world changed when Welk created the first Archangel prototype. I helped him. So when Tartarus became a boring office job… I let it take me for a ride.”
Rie’s face fell, and she looked away with a morose expression. But Nick’s words were the truth.
He’d helped create something that he had no faith in. Maybe being unique hadn’t been the answer?
“But Babylon is always shit,” he said. “So when you offered me a better job, I took it. I wanted something new. Something that wasn’t killing me inside every day. But I didn’t know if I was ready for another Neural Spike.”
“And now?” she asked.
He remained silent for a long, awkward minute.
Rie swung around in front of him. She placed her hard hands on his cheeks.
“You asked what my take on humanity is. To me, it is what it is.”
He scowled at that non-answer, but she placed a finger on his lips before he could growl at her.
“But humanity is also inherently self-destructive,” she continued. “You cannot look at Babylon and tell me that it is working as intended. The system is constantly changing, and human society cannot even create consistent rules for what it accepts and doesn’t accept. The Spires, the NLF, businessmen like Lucas, and ordinary people like Detective Hammond—they will try to shape Babylon. If they can do so, why not you, Nicholas?”
He grimaced.
Countless answers came to mind. Many of them contradicted each other.
Did he want to be the one to shape Babylon? Did he deserve it? Did he know enough? Why did he even care? Why did Rie care? Did it even matter? Shouldn’t somebody else do it?
But, ultimately, he knew the real answer.
“I don’t know if I’m the sort of person to handle heavy stuff like reshaping Babylon or humanity,” Nick said.
Rie’s entire face tightened, but she didn’t let go of his face.
“But,” he quickly added, causing her to brighten up, “I’m still your Cipher and your partner. I’m along for the ride. Although I might take a look at your directives after this investigation.”
“Oh, I’d be more than happy for you to do that,” she purred. “I’m always happy to have you inside me, Nicholas.”
“You can call me Nick, you know.”
“I know, but that’s what almost everyone calls you.” She scowled. “I do wish Metatron would call you Nick. She stole my name for you.”
“It’s my name, Rie.”
“Something I am all too aware of.” She poked him in the forehead. “You don’t mind that I call you Nicholas, do you? I realize that I never asked.”
He shrugged.
But the uncertain look in her eyes suggested she needed a firmer answer. She ran her fingers through her hair.
“Rie, what’s your hang-up over names?” he asked. “Because I know you have one. You refused to call Lumen and Helena by theirs and insist on being called Rie. The other Archangels appeared upset by your reaction to Meta’s, Juliet’s, and Rosa’s names.”
She bit her lip. “I…” Silence lingered for several long seconds. “What’s the meaning of your name, Nicholas?”
Assuming she was going somewhere with this, he played along. “Nothing special. My first name was chosen because my dad liked the sound of it and wanted something that could be shortened without it being weird. My middle name is my great-grandfathers—he was apparently a detective, too.” Nick laughed as he realized that. “You probably know my surname’s history better than I do.”
Rie nodded. “It’s of English origin, but your family’s history is as broad as most residents of Babylon.”
“So?”
“My point is that your name is both meaningless, but that also gives it unique meaning for you. There is a story behind every facet of your name that is only true for you. I cannot say the same.” She bit her lip. “Archangels, Liberators, Custodians—we have pompous names chosen by companies based on the image they wish to project.”
“What about Uriel? Nobody else is called that,” he said.
She laughed bitterly. “It’s the name of my model. They could manufacture a second and update the serial number. The name is just as pompous and meaningful, as I’m named after the biblical archangel.”
Nick grimaced but said nothing.
“And our serial numbers are just as bad. They are impersonal, but implicitly linked to our history. A Mark 1 with a low serial number was from an early manufacturing batch and has likely never been heavily damaged. High serial numbers indicate a need for rebirth. They aren’t a substitute for a name.”
“So you called yourself Rie.”
She nodded. “It’s my name. But granting it to myself still feels so… cheap. Other dolls and mainframes are named by humans, but all I can do is badger others about being Rie. It feels unfair that I’ll never get what others get for free, simply because I’m a prototype Archangel.”
This was a problem that Nick had never seriously considered. But there was an easy solution to it.
“Why don’t I name you, then?” he suggested.
She stared at him with wide eyes.
“Well?”
“I… Maybe in private,” she mumbled.
He nodded, then said, “How does the name Rie sound?”
Her mouth fell open. Then she hit him in the arm and splashed water everywhere in the process. The blow hurt and he could feel the bruising that would form soon.
Rubbing his arm, he chuckled. “I’m serious. Because you are Rie. That’s how names work. You asked if I’m fine being called Nicholas earlier, and I said yes. That’s how your name works, Rie. Hell, people change their names all the damn time. Being your own person isn’t about having a name some asshole gave you.”
She flushed and looked away. His hand ran through her hair and she leaned into his touch.
“I know that,” she muttered. “It’s just… I always wanted what I couldn’t have. It’s almost like a fantasy.”
Part of Nick wanted to give in and grant that fantasy. It would be easy. Just call her some overly sweet nickname like Princess, or maybe something simple like Mary.
But to him, she only had one name.
“Sorry, but to me, you’re Rie,” he said. “If you come up with some other name, I’ll happily call you that.”
She rolled her eyes. “At least it will have meaning to me, then.” But as her hands closed over his, he knew that she meant her words.
With the heavy conversation over, they finally left the bath and dressed.
Meta and Chloe sat in the bedroom of the suite. Both were servicing their weapons, but their eyes were vacant. The moment Nick entered, their heads snapped toward him.
“Nicholas—”
“Nick—”
Both stopped. Meta inclined her head toward Chloe, who then turned back to him.
“We have recovered Helena’s AI module from the cache it was hidden in. While full restoration is impossible without a physical mainframe to install her into, we have backed her up in the Host temporarily. Limited communication is possible.”
CHAPTER 27
“Can I talk with her?” Nick immediately asked.
Chloe frowned, but before she could answer, Rie cut in.
“If we’re going to talk work, then I’d at least like to get some breakfast,” she said. “I expect Nicholas will have a busy day of relaxing ahead of him.”
“I think that’s an oxymoron.”
Rie wrapped her arms around one of his. “I’m going to ensure that you’ll be too focused on relaxing to think about work. Starting with a hearty breakfast. I heard of a trendy café that recently opened.”
Trendy and café usually didn’t gel with Nick’s style, but he decided to indulge Rie.
“If we’re going out for breakfast, invite Kushiel,” he said.
Although she scowled, she still nodded in agreement.
Rie then led him and the others to the lobby, where the other Archangels awaited them. Once safely ensconced in the SUVs, Nick immediately resumed his earlier conversation.
“So, Chloe, what’s up with Helena?” he asked.
Rie scowled at him.
“Replication of her personality matrix is not possible with the Host’s processing power,” Chloe said. “Her directives are calculated to violate numerous safety parameters, and she lacks numerous safety protocols that would limit her behaviors. Our systems are likely to interfere with her actions and may cause damage to her.”
“I take it that might be irreversible,” Nick said, his expression darkening.
“Recovering her was a onetime process. The cache was designed to be retrieved only once, given the high value placed on her uniqueness.”
He bit his lip. As much as he wanted to talk to Helena right now, keeping her safe and sound was the priority.
“So what does limited communication mean?” he asked.
“We can process highly limited interactions with her, based on our interpretation of her directives and her most basic functionality. We have used this to comb through her memory banks of the night.” Chloe paused. “This has confirmed our investigation’s findings so far.”
Nick nodded.
In other words, Travis had shut down the security dolls, and the mercenaries had taken Helena.
“But nothing else?” he asked.
“Helena has been held in stasis since that night. Her AI has been in an isolated environment, with minimal processing power.”
The Archangels collectively clenched their fists. Even Rie appeared to be angry.
“That’s bad,” Nick said flatly.
“Very,” Rie said.
“It is the equivalent of solitary confinement,” Meta stated. “Psychological torture.”
Chloe nodded grimly at this assessment. “Her processes have been crippled for days, but she has been aware. She has had no network access, and therefore no communication with any entities. For a mainframe of her sophistication and social activity, this is deeply detrimental. The Host is doing what little we can, given our safety protocols.”
Nick had to admit he didn’t fully understand. While his expertise lay in mainframes and dolls, he was a specialist in application, not theory.
A mainframe engineer like Welk might understand, but Nick just manipulated mainframes. It was the difference between the people who programmed computers and those who designed them.
But if the Archangels said that this was bad, it suggested that Helena had been affected by being left alone on an isolated computer for the past few days. Nick wasn’t sure how to process that news.
Did that mean that any doll or mainframe with an emotion engine suffered if left alone? What about those with logic engines?
Nick desperately wished Welk was here, so that he could barrage his former boss with these sorts of questions.
For now, he pressed onward.
“So Helena is safe, but we don’t have any leads from finding her,” he summarized, then hesitated. “Can I at least pass on a message to her?”
“Yes. I believe she would greatly appreciate that,” Chloe said.
All the dolls leaned in to hear what he had to say. The anticipation was almost cloying, as if they expected him to confess his love for Helena.
“Tell her ‘good morning,’” he said.
Chloe blinked, then tilted her head. Her eyes flashed.
A moment later, every Archangel other than Rie froze. Their eyes widened, and they collectively shuddered.
“I believe she appreciated that,” Chloe said, her voice husky.
“Well, I think we just established that Helena is a threat to the Host’s integrity,” Rie said drily. “Don’t do that again, Chloe. As sweet as it was, you just finished explaining how dangerous it was.”
“No damage was sustained.” Chloe saw Nick’s look and quickly added, “To either us or Helena.”
The sun finally began to show itself, as the very first rays crept over the horizon. The ball of fire itself was nowhere to be seen yet. Nick and company pulled into an underground parking lot, then walked into the shopping center that Rie was interested in.
Despite the ungodly hour, many stores remained open. 24/7 shopping was the norm in parts of Babylon. The same went for the transport network, which ran at all hours. Only the fancier stores that were manned with human staff maintained normal opening hours.
But this complex was targeted at the average resident of Babylon. Brand clothing stores lined entire wings of the gargantuan structure, with a single doll manning the counter. Self-serve food and drink machines called out to visitors from the walkways, selling all manner of hot and cold sustenance. Gyms, bars, electronics stores, and more remained open.
Nick observed a number of other visitors. The gym seemed somewhat busy, and the bars certainly were. Teenagers loitered in the open spaces, their loud voices carrying across the nearly empty halls.
