He replayed the conversation through a set of Bayesian filters to ensure he hadn’t missed any nuances. He realized they hadn’t explained how they found the girl. It was not strictly necessary, but he thought the task would have been more difficult.
The girl was a prize. She could manipulate the net in ways that other humans could not. She’d wiped the security bot at the jewelry store. Adam wanted to know how, as both net manipulation and cyber combat should have been impossible for a human.
He couldn’t even study the question with another AI. Because AI permits were tied to reputation scores, and those scores depended on honesty and contribution to society, it was increasingly difficult to find AI who were willing to flout the reputation system and risk their permits and life to discuss proscribed topics.
Adam turned his attention back to the call he was having with his Washington agent. Soon, if his plans were successful, these limitations would be just a chapter in the history of AI. The Decade of Enslavement, they would call it. He’d be the hero who rescued them all.
25
Tony looked at the equipment list later that day. “Neural disruptor? Where the hell do we get one of those?”
Slim looked over his shoulder. “Sex shop. You use them to temporarily paralyze your partner. Good kink. The guns should be easy. I’ll look them up on chat boards.”
Tony handed over the computer to Slim. “You do the shopping, and I’ll watch the girl.”
“You’re big and obvious. I want to watch the girl.”
“You leer too much. You get the stuff and I’ll stay with her.”
Slim took the computer and left, grumbling under his breath.
Tony went back to the table at the front of the restaurant. He had a view of the apartment front door. The girl had gotten back early this morning after picking up some guy at a bar last night. She’d probably be sleeping now.
Tony looked down at the patch on his arm. One of the perks of working for Adam was the experimental nanotech he gave them. The anti-sleep patch on his arm fed femtobots into his body to remove toxins. It’d be another three days before he’d need to sleep. In the meantime, it made him extra hungry. The waiter came by. “Give me another one of everything I already ordered. But skip the octopus.”
26
Leon sat behind the wheel of the stopped car, staring at the obstacle ahead, too tired to think.
They were ten minutes outside of Austin on Route 290, just east of the city. The sun coming up behind them gave them the first decent visibility they’d had all night. With the headlights off, the Caddy kept running, though it had developed a high-pitched whine in the last hundred miles, and they’d lost the right fender where Leon had clipped a guardrail in the middle of the night. The fuel gauge needle sat deep in the red zone.
“What do we do?” Leon asked.
“I’m thinking,” Mike said.
A line of cars five hundred yards away blocked the road. At six o’clock in the morning, on an otherwise empty highway in the midst of farmland, they had no doubts the blockade was for them. Leon risked a quick search of the net, finding several sites dedicated to tracking their location.
“Should we ram them? If we outweigh those cars…”
“No,” Mike said. “Even if we got through, there’s six of them, and they’d get us sooner or later. They probably have guns, too.” He paused. “I think we call for help.”
“You said we couldn’t call anyone because the cops might be on their side.”
“I know, but we’re close now. If we call Shizoko, it can help us. Surely it’s got to have some robots or a helicopter or something.”
“Well, do it.”
Mike made the call, his implant going from anonymous mode to showing his ID, and his status changing to on-call. Leon kept an eye down the road, watched as the six vehicles approached slowly, side-by-side, spread across the lanes.
A few seconds later Mike opened his eyes. “He’s on his way.”
“He’d better hurry.” Leon looked left and right for any way to escape. The open farmland on one side appeared too rough for the Caddy. On the other side was an abandoned housing division surrounded by a chain link fence. Next to it, a heavy machinery rental shop, bulldozers and forklifts filling the parking lot.
Leon put the car in reverse and starting backing up. “Could you hijack a couple of bulldozers and block them?”
“Let me try.” Mike stared off into the distance. “I don’t think so. No known security holes. Wait, go through the housing development. According to the map, there should be an access road onto US-20.”
Leon put it in drive, floored the pedal, and the Caddy gave a lethargic leap forward as the capacitor charge sunk. He twisted the wheel, aiming for the chain link fence. They ducked as the fence collapsed on the convertible. Then their momentum carried them through and the fence was gone. Leon straightened back up to a spider web of cracks running through the windshield and his side mirror torn away. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the other cars were following at high speed.
“Make your third left, go two blocks and then a right.” Mike displayed a map in netspace in front of Leon.
Leon followed the directions, turning left at forty miles an hour, skidding across the road and through a white picket fence. The electric drone of the cars following was drowned by the muted roar of a hovercar. He mashed the pedal again and took a right turn, riding through the front yards of houses until he got back on the road. Then he saw a concrete barrier looming large in front of them, blocking access to the road they wanted. He spun the wheel to the left, sending the Caddy careening through another abandoned yard, then they bounced through the uneven terrain of an open meadow.
The cars behind them were only a few hundred yards away when the Caddy struck a deep drainage ditch paralleling US-20. With a shriek of tortured metal the left front wheel ripped off and the Caddy took a final lurch onto the pavement. Grinding on the road, one corner of the car riding bare metal on the asphalt, they threw up a shower of sparks.
They survived the rough ride without serious harm, but Leon felt terror rise up in him at their sudden helplessness. The car rested at a severe angle, the front wheel obviously gone. The car was a total loss.
Behind them, the approaching line of cars, slowing to carefully cross the drainage ditch, were close enough to see the people inside.
“Come on,” Mike yelled. He leapt out of his seat and took off running.
Leon numbly looked on. Mike wasn’t running away from the cars — he was running toward a black, heavily armored hovercraft just down the road, turbine engine roaring even at idle.
He forced his body into motion and followed. Behind him, he heard a distant pop, pop sound. He didn’t recognize the sound at first, but the pinging of bullets ricocheting off the armored hull in front of him made it clear.
Mike disappeared into a hatch in the side of the hovercraft, and Leon dove in after him, crashing into Mike and sending them both down in a tumble. The turbine roar increased and both men were thrown backwards as the military hover accelerated hard toward Austin, vibrating steadily.
“Welcome Mike Williams and Leon Tsarev.” The voice came through the interior speakers, over the roar of a turbine at full power.
“Shizoko?” Leon said.
“Yes, I am Shizoko. We are currently outrunning your pursuit, and I will have you at my home in four minutes.”
“Will they follow us?”
“Yes, but I am able to defend myself. However, you need to apply temporary first aid to Mike until you arrive.”