Computer Love

In addition to being mission commander, Alice was also the hand-to-hand combat instructor for our resistance cell. And my god did I love it when she tossed me around in the gym. Weird I know, but I've got this thing for chicks with muscles. And Alice has muscles on her muscles. Mmm.

If I could ever get the three of them all in bed with me at the same time, it would be a pretty nice dream, even for a stress dream. But as it is, I get no such satisfaction, and instead of a hot foursome, I am forced to relive the first few days after I returned home—except this time without the benefit of my right arm.

Someone is nudging my right shoulder. I find this hard to believe since I have yet to locate that missing limb, so I tell them to piss off. I open my eyes to see Kira frowning and feel something warm and wet in my ear.

"I will not piss off," Kira says, and then breaks into a grin.

"We're coming up on the terminus," Erica whispers and nips my earlobe. That explains the warm and wet—cheeky girl and her tongue.

I smile and roll over again, my eyelids drooping.

"Oh no you don't, Sara," Kira says. "Come on."

I drag myself up to sitting and put my jacket back on. A quick check of my sidearm lets me know it has a full charge. And after a brief stretch, the realization hits me that my right arm is back—just a little tingly with pins and needles. I push it out in Erica's direction. And with Erica's help, I hoist myself up and follow the rest of the girls to the vehicle storage part of the train.

The inside of the vehicle compartment is even noisier than the boxed freight compartment we just left. We're all piling into an autovan for the final leg of the journey. It's shoulder to shoulder in here, like sardines lined up in a tin, and instead of the dangers that may lay ahead, all I can think about is that I sure hope I don't have to sit next to Emily.

*

I find myself fidgeting as our hijacked autovan finally pulls into one of the loading docks of the Atlanta warehouse. I'm probably all jacked up because it's quieter now, and I can actually hear myself think, and I'm mostly thinking about that big dark cloud of unknown that hangs over the east coast.

I try to tell myself that I really shouldn't be nervous, that it's a completely automated facility we're going to, with no humans about. Once Emily loops the video feed on the cameras so that all they see is the past hour over again, we'll be completely undetectable.

Suddenly, I dislike her a little less—still not girlfriend material though.

Emily looks up from her holo-term, gives a small thumbs-up to nobody in particular, and we all pile out. I can see a crack of light spilling in from the rubber seal of the dock that doesn't quite mate perfectly with the back of the van. I stretch briefly and try to fill my lungs with the air that's streaming in from outside. It's hot and muggy, but at least it's from outside.

As we move toward the interior of the warehouse, Kira is on point, followed by Alice, and then the twins with Emily and her gear. Erica and I cover the rear.

"I miss outside," I whisper. Erica says nothing.

The warehouse is massive, with uniform gray rows of shelving units stretching upward and onward for what seems like miles. The dim light in the facility reaches down from translucent skylights in the steel roof so far above. For a moment, a few slowly falling dust motes are the only thing hanging in the stillness of the air.

I am reminded momentarily of a family adventure from my past—an idyllic day spent in the state forest with my mother and father—back when I was just a girl and they were both still walking this earth. Something about the way the light filtered through the leaves of the forest canopy reminded me, I suppose.

But that's where the similarities end. Gone is the gentle breeze that cools my skin, replaced by hot and stagnant air that threatens to choke me. And the pleasant call and response of bird song, that's missing too, replaced by the menacing crescendo of motorized cargo drones closing in from overhead and on the ground.

From my training, I remember that the drones are essentially blind to humans—that they only care about radio-frequency identification tags. Anything without an RFID, or an intentionally fried one like the RFID in my neck, does not exist to them. In fact, the only way the drones pose any danger to us was if we are unlucky enough to be between a drone and its objective and get accidentally run over.

That sounds all fine and dandy in the classroom, but up close and personal they still scare the shit out of me. I decide to distract myself by concentrating on Erica's fine-looking ass instead. Kira was too far up ahead for me to see her gorgeous tush. Kira was always in front, charging head-first into danger, while I always seemed destined to bring up the rear with Erica at my side, keeping me out of trouble.

Still though, it could have been worse, I could have been partnered with Emily. I had to admit that Emily had a pretty sweet looking tush, not as nice as Erica's, but not bad. The only drawback is that it's coupled to that annoyingly whiny personality of hers.

As it was though, I got to check Erica's fine ass while Emily was somewhere in the middle, buddied up with the twins. Fortunately for them, they could always shrug and pull the 'je ne comprends pas' card for anything Emily said that they didn't like.

Out front, Kira's hand goes up and makes a fist. The entire group stops moving and crouches down.

"What is it?" I whisper to Erica.

This time she looks at me and shrugs.

Alice is heading our direction in a crouch while the twins are moving forward.

"Mechanical lock," Alice says, "just hold tight." And she's off again, stooped over and hustling up to the front. She and Kira are providing cover for the twins, who are reaching into their bag of tricks for something I cannot see at this distance.

I do my best to hold tight as Alice said, but all I can do is listen to the noise of quad-copters darting about, pulling boxes from shelves and transferring them the six-wheeled drones that deliver them to one of the many loading docks, like the one where our hijacked autovan was waiting for us.

This gives me an idea.

"Hey, Erica," I whisper. Why I was whispering, I don't know. Just habit.

She turns to face me.

"How come we just didn't hack the system and have the A.I. delivered?" I mean, it seems like a valid question, and I was supposed to be learning things on these missions.

"Not in the system."

"Not in the system? So how did we know it was here?"

"Somebody called in an anonymous tip." Erica shrugs. "That's all I know. Ask your girlfriend Kira, that stuff's way above my pay grade."

I couldn't ask Kira, she was way out in front, while I was back here checking out Erica's ass. So I did the next best thing. I reach over, with my hand behind Erica's neck, and pull her in for a kiss. A nice long kiss, with tongue.

I probably broke about a million rules with that little maneuver, but I didn't care. For the ten seconds that my lips are locked with hers, nothing else matters—not the drones milling about, not the danger of getting caught, not even that acrid metallic smell in the air.

"What's that stink?"

"They probably melted the lock," Erica says, and then points in front of us.

The group is up and moving again.

"So why would a package not be in the system?" I ask.

"For the same reason it's behind a locked gate. It's either really important, or really dangerous."

"How dangerous can an A.I. be?" I think about Sigmund, my A.I. analyst, in his holographic turtlenecks and wire rim glasses, always touching his chin pensively with his index finger. He was practically the antithesis of danger. "Can't you just shut 'em down if they get out of line? Or delete them?"

"I don't know, baby," she says. "Just try to focus on the mission 'til we're back on the 'loop, okay?"

I nod and turn my silent attention back to Erica's beautiful ass.

Up front, Kira is twirling her finger in the air and the group is turning around. Erica and I stay put while the rest leapfrog us and soon we're heading back to the dock. I steal a quick glance at Emily, who is now lugging a suitcase-sized container with her as she passes. Her face is still locked in uptight bitch mode.

I decide to blow her a kiss.

*

"This thing is so fucked," Emily says.

We're back on the hyperloop, heading home, and Emily has been fiddling with a holo-terminal and the suitcase thingy we just 'jacked for about an hour now. She's been looking more pissed off with each passing minute.

"What's up?" I say, holding another MRE in her direction.

"It's fucked." She pounds her fist against the top of the quantum storage unit. "I risked my ass on this stupid mission for nothing. This A.I. is fucked."

"In what way is it fucked, Em?"

"Oh, I forgot, you're some sort of computer expert now, are you?" Emily's lip curls into a sneer. "It's like some kind of sick joke, it's not even sentient. Just a little girl crying for her mommy. Some kind of kid's toy. And she's wearing a fucking beret of all things."

Emily snatches the MRE out of my hand and glares at it. "Bean burrito again? Fuck!"

I always knew that girl was too high-strung for field work. I watch her stomp off while I take her place in front of the holo-terminal. Right away I see something Emily missed. The girl behind the glass has way more detail than Sigmund—no way is this a kid's toy, more like a work of art—somebody had put a lot of time into it.

"Hi," I say to the image of the little girl. "My name's Sara."

"I want my mommy."

"I know, sweetie. I don't know where she is right now." I think about my sessions with Sigmund. "If you feel like you want to talk to someone about it, I'll be right here."

"I want my mommy."

I slip out of my jacket, ball it up behind my back, and spend the rest of the 'loop ride watching a little girl sporting a beret at a jaunty cant, and crying for her mother. After a few hours, I decide that maybe next time I see Sigmund, I ought to go a little easier on him.

*

A Change in Plans

"Okay, people, listen up," Alice says. "Change of plans. The management regrets to inform you that we will not be enjoying the fabulous five-star comfort of the autovan on the last leg of our tour. When we get to the terminus, we'll be on foot."

Nervous grumbles erupt from the group.

"Just a precaution," Kira says. "We haven't been able to contact the base yet, so we are assuming the worst and taking appropriate precautions. It's probably just a systems glitch."

"Someone trip over ze cord, n'est-ce pas?" one of the twins says. They look at each other and break out into a chuckle.

"Something like that," says Alice. She quickly loses her battle to keep the grin from spreading over her face, and soon the mood is not so solemn. "Just remember your training, people. We move out at sundown. 'Til then, pack your gear and police up your areas. Remember... we were never here."

*

It was raining when we disembarked and we made pretty good time. Precipitation always plays havoc with facial recognition systems—a little detail that the manufacturers would prefer that their customers did not know—so we were able to take a more direct route to the secondary location.

"What is this place?" Emily whines. "It smells like something died in here."

"Gas station," I say.

"A what?"

"Gas station. Before cars were all electric, people used to come here to get fuel. Some of the gas stations converted to charging stations, some of them continued as urban oases, selling food, drinks, lottery tickets. The rest of them sort of dried up, like this one."

"Damn." Kira's voice from directly behind me. "I'm putting your name in for a promotion to official tour guide. How do you know all this?"

"My dad built the old gas cars. Worked the line at the auto plant, before... Before..." Before he lost his job and shit started sliding down hill for us, I didn't say. Everybody had their own hard luck stories, and nobody needed to be reminded of them.

Kira gives my arm a quick squeeze and moves over by Alice to give me some space. Emily's moved on too, but not because I thought she gave a shit—probably because she was bored.

"Eww," Emily says from a few feet away. "What is that thing?"

I look over at Kira and Alice. They look busy. The twins shrug and feign a lack of understanding. Erica's in the bathroom. That leaves me, riding to the rescue.

I saunter over. Emily is standing in what looks like a janitor's closet, looking pale. The twins have joined her now, looking over her shoulder.

"It's a possum, Em."

"Is it - Is it dead?"

"Nah. Probably just playing possum." I grin, but I think the humor is lost on her. I know the twins missed it. "Yeah, it's dead. But at least we know why it smells in here now. Come on."

While Emily holds her hand to her mouth, making retching sounds, Alice and Kira are on their way over. This was turning into one popular freak show.

"It's just a possum," I say.

Kira glances at the carcass and wrinkles her nose. "Actually, we came for Emily."

"What," Emily grumbles.

"We need you to try accessing the 'net."

"With what? This place is a dump."

"There's an old credit card verification terminal over—"

"A phone line?" Emily says. "You want me to access the 'net with a phone line? Somebody tell me what year this is again."

"Look," Alice says, "can you do it or not?"

"It's gonna be slow. Like dirt slow."

Emily is ushered off, sandwiched between Kira and Alice, while I go to join Erica where she was sitting on the floor with my new A.I. friend.

"She say anything yet?" I ask.

"Nope."

Erica wraps her arm around my waist and I lean my head against her shoulder for a while. Together, we watch the little girl in a beret crying for her mommy.

"Thanks," I say.

"For what?"

"For being here. Sitting here with me. Not thinking I'm crazy 'cause I've been watching a sad little A.I. girl for the past I don't know how many hours." I rub my eyes.

"You're here for her." Erica kisses me on the forehead. "I'm here for you. Works out good, huh?"

"Yeah. Still, thanks though." I rest my back against a section of old metal shelf that somebody has propped against the wall, and pull Erica in a little closer.

Our little beret girl is still sobbing. I reach my hand out and touch the smooth glass surface of the holo-term where her image resides and take a page from Sigmund's playbook. "I'm here for you if you want to talk."

About two hours later, with Erica snoring softly on my shoulder, and the little girl still crying, Kira steps into view. "They're okay, Sara," she whispers. "The base is under some sort of cyber-attack, but they're okay. As soon as Emily can 'jack us a van, we're heading out. 'Bout half an hour, okay? Maybe longer. It's a slow link."

"Thanks, baby," I whisper to Kira. She smiles.

I smile too, because one, Kira's smiles are infectious, and two, because I'm suddenly inclined to loathe Emily a little bit less. She's getting us a ride home.

I might even let her sit by me in the van. Maybe.

*

Family Reunion

By the time we finally rustle up some transportation and get ourselves back to base, it's about three in the morning. It has been an exceedingly long day and everyone looks like they're about ready to drop—except for Erica. Erica looks amazing, because she had a nap on my shoulder at the gas station, and because her beautiful tush looks so delicious in those cargo pants.

I'm just on my way to get close to her, and maybe grind on that fine ass for a while, when Sabine pops out of nowhere with a tray full of assorted sandwiches and a warm smile. For a revolutionary leader, she certainly is quite the little homemaker.

The sandwiches are all cut into perfect triangles and each one is run through with a miniature plastic sword. I don't know who her source is, or how she smuggles this stuff in, but I've never been one to turn down one of Sabine's after-mission treats. Last time it was cannoli, and I went to bed with a sore tummy.

This time around, I snag a luscious looking portobello and pepper number that's held together with what I think is a goat cheese spread, but I can't say for sure. It smells like there's a hint of tarragon in it. While I'm busy deconstructing my sandwich and trying to figure out where Sabine scored fresh tarragon, I notice poor Erica has lugged the A.I. over to the lab bench all by herself. I grab another sandwich and head in her direction.

On my way over, I see that the twins have already inhaled their late night snacks and are now busy fencing with the little plastic swords. They're chattering away at each other in Québécois as they thrust and parry and dodge—taunting and laughing. I give them a little wave as I set Erica's sandwich in front of her, and they smile back.

Erica's got our sad little A.I. girl's case plugged into a benchtop holo-term and sure enough she's still crying. The only difference is our little girl's about twice the size as she was on the portable terminal. I pull out a stool and park myself in front of her.

"En garde!" I hear behind me, and then a burst of rattling plastic sabers ensues, followed by laughter and something in French that I'm too tired to even try to translate. I'm just about to ask Erica if she would be willing to take the first shift watching our A.I. girl, since she got to have a nap and all, when I catch Sabine's face.

The tears are rolling down her cheeks and her bottom lip is quivering, but soon a broad smile crosses her face.

"Sally?" she says. Sabine trots over to the benchtop holo-term, touching her fingers to the glass. "Is it really you?"

The fencing duel pauses.

"Mommy?" the little beret girl says. She sniffles a few times. "Mommy, I'm scared."

I look at Erica and she looks at me. I realize now that any thoughts I had of getting some sleep have just evaporated. There is now way I'm going to miss this little family reunion.

I had heard once that Sabine had a daughter, but nobody seemed to know anything about her, where she lived, or even if she was still living. I never suspected for a minute that her daughter was a construct, a collection of wires and code.

But the look on Sabine's face, that was certainly real. It reminds me of the time I got lost in the mall when I was a little girl. When my mother finally found me, she had that same look—distraught, but happy—tears and a smile.

"Mommy, it's dark and I'm so cold. I want to come home."

"You are home, honey." Sabine slides her finger over the surface of the holo-terminal. Her lip is quivering again.

"I can't get out, Mommy. I'm stuck." Her sniffling intensifies.

"Was she developed on a mainframe or stand-alone?" Emily is standing right behind me and seems surprisingly more chipper and composed than just a few hours earlier. Just reinforces my theory that the girl isn't cut out for field work.

"Mainframe," Sabine says. "The computational cluster at the university, when I was a PhD student. But that was twenty years ago."

"She's never been alone, then?"

"I - I guess I don't know. What do you mean?"

"The university cluster is part of the global network, right?"

Sabine nods. She looks as if the pieces were starting to fit together for her. Me, I'm still a few pieces short.

"All her life—" Emily starts.

"She's been connected to the 'net!" Sabine finishes. "She's never been isolated from other systems before."

"So we just need to plug her back in?" I say.

"Except there's no connection." Alice has joined the group now, the entire team is huddled around a holo-term, discussing how we were going to help an A.I. girl who just happens to be Sabine's daughter.