Neural Wraith, page 6
Inside his office, he fiddled with his terminal. It took close to two hours to update the directives of the security dolls and sever what he could of their reliance on Tartarus’s network.
If Helena were still here, it would have taken a few minutes total. While he had bragged about his abilities, a mainframe was still a huge aid.
Without Helena, he needed to do everything manually. The network itself had been built around a mainframe that was no longer here, and a lot of the testing and quality assurance procedures didn’t run without her. Nick needed to undertake his own tests to ensure he hadn’t screwed up the security dolls.
“I don’t know if I approve of making them obey you,” Chloe said as they left.
“I did add that they should follow Archangel directives,” Nick added.
“Yes, but they’re idiosyncratic. Are they truly driven by logic engines?” she asked.
“They’re custom models, modified from top-of-the-line dolls. We used them as a proof-of-concept before starting the actual Archangel prototyping,” he explained. “They have a lot of open-ended directives, compared to most dolls.”
“Logic engines do not handle open-ended directives well.”
He shrugged. “They get a bit confused, but they have the spirit. If a doll couldn’t make context-driven judgment, they’d never have been given a gun. Who’d trust a police officer who didn’t know when—and when not to—use their gun?” He scratched his cheek. “I do fiddle with their directives a lot, though. They’re a pet project of mine these days.”
Were a pet project, he reminded himself.
“Ah. That explains their odd behavior around you. You write all of their directives, so they know that if they don’t understand something, they can come to you for more orders.” Chloe frowned. “I do not know if I agree with creating that sort of dependence.”
Had he done that? In his mind, he’d considered his role with the security dolls to be more of a maintenance person who fixed bugs and got used to them because he spent so much time in their code.
“While modifying their directives, did you find anything about the power loss?” she asked, changing the subject.
“No. My terminal isn’t set up for those sorts of diagnostics. Pulling that sort of low-level info needs to be done at the hardware level. I’m just feeding info to their neural hub to modify their directives, but I don’t have access to the bare metal for security reasons,” he said. “The IT security team would usually pull that using specialized equipment then upload it to the servers.”
“I see. I shall have that equipment installed at the location they are housed in.”
Nick said a quick goodbye to the security dolls. They appeared relaxed after the directives change.
“Take care, Mr. Waite,” a security doll told him, while looking pointedly at Chloe.
“We’ll see that no harm comes to him,” she said.
The security doll nodded, then returned to the rest of the group.
After returning to the SUV, they took off for the Spires. The media frenzy had yet to subside. Nick wondered if he’d show up on TV and the Altnet. Browsing his phone, he saw that he’d yet to show up anywhere. Although there were a lot of threads and videos about police censorship and Cipher activity.
His social feed was still exploding. A lot of those messages were panicked. His Altnet feed suggested some of his Cipher buddies knew he was with the Archangels, however. They weren’t certain if he was under arrest or cooperating.
“Can I let people know that I’m not under arrest or dead?” he asked.
“Yes. Do not mention your new employment, however. Merely that you are not being charged,” Chloe said.
Nick did exactly that. He avoided his Cipher circles on the Altnet, however. Right now, talking with other Ciphers was dangerous.
He’d need to reach out to them once he spoke with Rie, however.
Unlike last night, the streets were choked with people. Many people weren’t here to work, however. The city’s largest shopping mall, the Gardens, thrived with throngs of people bustling on its dozen levels. Trains and buses pulled in regularly, and robot taxis weaved among the private vehicles ducking into the expensive underground parking.
The city’s eclectic fashion was on display, not that there was any one trend. Grungy, dirty jackets reminiscent of the 2000s accompanied sleek, metallic appearances that emulated dolls and robots. Liberators patrolled alongside private security dolls, although weapons remained holstered and many posed alongside energetic children.
As they approached the Spires, Chloe suddenly frowned. The SUV swerved away, taking a detour.
“The checkpoints are clogged with civilian traffic,” she informed him. “Media and Altnet journalists are attempting to gain access to the Spires on short notice. Rie advises that we meet at an alternate location.”
Said alternate location turned out to be a trendy bar in what Nick would generously describe as a shady part of the city. The Archangels drew a lot of attention here, and the area cleared within seconds of their arrival.
The streets were clean, the buildings well-maintained, but everything seemed just a little older and somewhat off. As if this section of the city was almost too quiet and had been dropped into Babylon, rather than naturally built. Even the architecture felt off. There was a lot more wood and brick in the buildings here.
“You, uh, do realize where we are, right?” he asked.
“This is a doll district,” Chloe said. “We understand you like to visit these establishments.”
Nick stared at her, doing his best to keep his face from reddening due to a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.
“I haven’t been here for fucking years,” he hissed. “Holy shit. And even then, I was here because I worked here.”
“Neural Spike didn’t have offices here.”
Nick could have sworn that Chloe was hiding the smarmiest fucking smile imaginable.
“You know damn well that we were doing testing here,” he said. “We tested… Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“What?”
“Sex. A lot of black companies sell sex with dolls here. All sorts of expensive models are available here, including ones modeled after celebrities and second-hand police models. We used to hook up Helena and the other prototype emotion engines to the dolls and use them to calibrate everything. Later on, I think they even tested actual prototypes out here. I think one of the shootings happened due to a malfunctioning prototype,” he admitted.
After a few moments, Nick realized he was the only one walking up the street. Several dolls peered out at him from doorways or from the frontages of businesses. At this time of day, they were all dressed.
Looking behind him, Nick saw that the Archangels had stopped.
“That is information we did not have access to,” Chloe admitted. “Not all Neural Spike archives are accessible to us.”
“Huh. I figured if Rie could get me away from the military she’d have access.”
“Her access is greater than ours,” Chloe said. She paused. “Did you…”
“I was a Cipher who helped calibrate things, not a customer. Although it’s certainly not my proudest moment. I, uh, did work with some of the companies that run these places, though. Buddy of mine runs a place a couple of blocks thataway.” He pointed in the opposite direction they were going. “He helped me get the job in Neural Spike to begin with. Doing Cipher work with doll companies got me recommendations.”
“I see,” Chloe said.
This conversation was over, Nick felt. Her teasing had fallen flat, presumably because she had the wrong idea about why he’d been here to begin with.
They arrived at the bar in short order. Given it wasn’t even lunchtime, Rie was the only person here. A service doll stood behind the bar, but she was mostly eye candy. Most drinks were ordered using an implant or an app. The doll only crafted the cocktails, made small talk if somebody wanted it, or let somebody in her backdoor for the right price.
Or at least, Nick suspected that was the case. Given where they were, he suspected most proprietors had paid a Cipher to reprogram their doll to turn off the prostitution safeguards.
Rie nursed a tall cola while reading a thick book.
“That book is older than anyone who founded this city,” Nick noted. “Any reason why you’re reading a dead tree?”
“I wanted to understand why some of the elites in the Spires still cling to the idea that physical media is superior to digital. It is an ongoing investigation,” Rie said, snapping the book shut. “Not everything can be understood through mere analysis of historical record. Experience is everything.”
Chloe shifted uncomfortably. The other Archangels sat in the corner.
“Is something wrong, Chloe?” Rie asked.
“Did you know what he did here?” Chloe asked.
“The testing? Of course. Neural Spike’s testing was comprehensive. Autonomous androids could not hope to replicate the breadth of human emotion and activity without understanding all of it. Part of me wonders if that is why they hired Nicholas to begin with. A Cipher who understands what it is like to be separated from society is a great boon to such an ambitious development project,” Rie said.
“Uh huh. That’s a nice thought, but I was basically along because I was good at faffing about with mainframes,” he said. “And because the police dolls ignored me. I could hang around in shady places and the patrolling Liberators would cheerfully wave at me. Other Ciphers would get marched out within thirty minutes.”
“Something that was noticed by the Mark 1s upon their arrival,” Rie noted wryly.
Nick blinked, then frowned. “Wait, are you telling me the reason I was constantly badgered by them was because they knew other police dolls ignored me?”
Before the arrival of the Archangels, the worst trouble he ever got from dolls were at checkpoints like train stations. It made sense that more autonomous dolls driven by emotion engines would spot this and act upon it.
“Perhaps. Or maybe they just liked bullying you. Speaking of which.” She drained her drink, then spun the empty glass toward the service doll, who snapped it up and began cleaning it. “We need to talk about your role in my task force. Among other things. You’re my investment.”
“Our investment,” Chloe corrected. “The Host wishes to rectify your assessment. There is discontent regarding your actions last night.”
“You don’t need to verbalize that,” Rie snapped. “Kushiel screeched at me for hours last night as I pushed her to authorize this. Such a nuisance.”
“This would have been easier if you had sought the approval of the Host in advance.”
“The Tartarus raid was brought forward by weeks. There wasn’t time. I expected…” The prototype doll sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Look, this is pointless. Nicholas, you are somewhat in demand now that you’ve landed in the lap of the Archangels. But, ultimately, I’ve taken on the expenses of partnering with you—political and otherwise. I expect you to split your time efficiently between your three roles.”
“Three?” he asked.
Rie ticked off fingers. “Your partnership with me; your advisory and leadership role in the task force; and your… whatever role that the Host wants you to take on. I’ll admit that I don’t know what they want from you. You confuse the hell out of them.”
“He does not,” Chloe insisted.
“As you can see, lying is not against our parameters,” Rie said with a smile. “You’ll be a busy man, Nicholas. Fortunately, you’ll have a lot more time and money to afford to be busy.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Nick said. “But I think it’s time we talk about Tartarus. Then we can talk about my job and how much cash you’re shoving in my pocket to play therapist to several thousand Archangels.”
CHAPTER 5
“Well, if we’re getting down to business, I suppose I should brief you on your first investigation,” Rie said. Her eyes flashed and the Mark 3s slipped outside without a word. “Among other things.”
Nick chose to ignore the departing Archangels. He had more pressing concerns, like getting a drink. “Can you order me a beer?”
Chloe’s eyes flashed, and a glass popped out from the counter with a hiss. A barcode engraved onto the bottom of the new glass would keep track of how much he drank and what he drank, then charge appropriately.
The service doll behind the counter ignored them, as she was busy pouring Rie another cola into her cleaned glass.
“I assume you can use the self-service taps,” Rie said drily, nodding her head at the dizzying arrangement of beers, ciders, and sugary premix drinks that could be poured from a tap.
He did exactly that, choosing a local red ale that he recognized. This place appeared to cater to a rather odd crowd, judging from the range of drinks. Then again, people came from far and wide to this district.
By the time he returned, Rie had her new drink.
“So, what exactly is my first investigation? And I thought I was your boss?” he asked.
“Partner,” Rie stressed. “While the task force may formally need a Cipher, I believe we have established that your skills are more supplementary and experimental.”
“Then why do you need me? Surely a bunch of super androids can just scan all the recorded media and neural implants of everyone involved, find the truth, then arrest the suspects. Case closed.”
That was the true, horrifying power of the Archangels.
Between the omnipresence of neural implants and the near-complete reliance on digital media, almost all life in Babylon was within the grasp of police monitoring. Using the security bands, an Archangel could passively read the surface thoughts, emotions, and senses of passersby.
But they could also dig deeper. Neural implants recorded long-term memories, which ostensibly helped fight memory loss in the elderly. Social interaction often took place on the Altnet, and the servers were under the control of the Spires. The police could solve crimes without even lifting a finger—and prevent them, too.
Nick continued, “Evidence from Archangels is basically indisputable in the courts, now that they’re nearly automated. You just dump a pile of records on the judicial mainframes and they decide in your favor.”
“Highly prestigious human judges sit on every case,” Rie said primly.
Nick snorted as he sat back down. “They do a lot of sitting, that’s for sure. The courthouses are just glorified mainframe housing, these days. The only reason there are still human judges is because people are scared to admit the truth.” He sipped his beer and watched as Rie copied him.
Where did she put the food and drink she consumed? Dolls couldn’t process it, obviously. He made a note to dig up some schematics and investigate later. Presumably he’d have access. And if he didn’t, he’d give himself access.
Who was going to stop him? Rie?
“That is perhaps the case,” she said with a shrug. “The courthouses certainly receive far more investment in their mainframes than the police department. Many of our mainframes are older than you.”
Nick tried not to think too hard about what that meant. He failed and ran a hand through his hair.
The Archangels were the absolute cutting edge of technology, and the department that operated them was controlled by a mainframe that Nick could probably break into without even trying. He had been right to assume he could give himself access to confidential police files.
“To answer your real question, I believe it’s time to finish the conversation from last night,” Rie continued. “You are officially a police Cipher now.”
He waited patiently.
“The Archangels are responsible for maintaining order in New Babylon,” Rie explained. “Our task force is explicitly responsible for rooting out corruption. But those goals seem intrinsically impossible, as the very people who installed us are responsible for much of the chaos and corruption. We have access to Babylon’s neural network, but its elite have their own that is secure from us.”
That was news to Nick. It made sense, however. What kind of billionaire dictators would install a bunch of sentient law enforcement robots that could fry the minds of their overlords?
Babylon itself ran on a single integrated neural network, which tied together innumerable devices and the millions of residents. The Altnet was a platform that was reliant on that neural network.
To compare it to the technology of history, the neural network was like the Internet of old, and the Altnet was the modern World Wide Web.
Except that it wasn’t worldwide. The Altnet was the exclusive neural platform used in Neo Westphalia, but there were two main platforms elsewhere in the world. Europe still clung to the vestiges of the old web, but most of Asia had splintered completely. The Americas used a bit of everything.
Which made it even more impressive that the Spires had set up their own. Doing so would require immense resources, but was the only way to secure themselves from the Archangels. Companies ran their own internal networks, but they never extended outside their own buildings and mainframes.
“That means that many of the Spires’ decisions are unknown to us,” Rie continued. “Part of the reason why I and Kushiel are separate from the Host is that Sigma Robotics believes this better mimics the actual power structure of humanity. Those higher in the hierarchy do not participate at the same level as those within it.”
“That’s a damn bleak view,” Nick said, taking a long slug of his beer. “Can’t say I disagree, though. But, again, where do I come into this?”
“For one, you can help us understand humanity better. At the same time, you are part of the corruption that I believe to be intrinsic to Babylon.”
He froze, drink halfway to his face. “Intrinsic?”
“Your entire employment history is embedded in the darkness of the city. If we expunged every questionable element from Babylon, you would be a fraction of the man you are now. Does that not imply that there is value to the black companies that the Spires tolerate?” Rie smiled at his grimace. “But that has never been an explicit policy. Which brings us to Tartarus.”
