There was a demonstration going on in front of Security Headquarters while I was flown in to see Liss: about fifty or sixty angry humans with placards denouncing AIs as godless massacre machines, and demanding something be done about all the crimes they had committed or might theoretically commit. It wasn’t a serious issue for Security. The demonstration was only there so they could get the famous building in the back of the screen news coverage.
The headquarters of Hub Security was not a utilitarian, ugly squat of brick or stone, but a minor masterpiece of architecture, looking like a circle held on its side so it formed an ‘O’ from a distance. Hub attracts the finest architects from across the multiverse, because it provides them with an opportunity to show off their work to the widest possible audience — thus enabling the IU to get the work at a very reasonable discount. Hub Metro is littered with bold statements in glass and stone and wood and aerogel supported by pressor fields. In this case, the architect decided a circular building was a symbol of strength and security, and then turned it on its side.
The ‘O’ was partially buried, and holding cells were kept in the underground portion. Those parts of the building that had to act as a police station were designed with a greater concession to practicality, but (this being Hub), even the holding cells were comfortable, well lit, and really quite pleasant to stay in, if you ignored the fact that they were also designed to contain people with posthuman enhancements all the way up to military status and beyond.
I met Liss in one of the interview rooms designed for dangerous prisoners. At first, it seemed as though we would be in the same room. But there was an invisible layer of composite carbonglass, plastic and energy dividing it, seemingly running through the table in the middle. I entered through one door and sat down. An impervious robotic warder opened the far door and Liss walked in.
3. Group
The group was gathered in the usual circle, waiting for me and Veofol to arrive. Elsbet had joined them for the first time, sitting as far away from Iokan as she could. The clothes she’d picked were those of a soldier: olive-drab canvas jacket, combat trousers, paratrooper boots, and a cap that hid Katie’s cropped hair. She looked a little nervous, but defiant with it.
Olivia eyed her suspiciously. “So you’re up and about, then,” she observed.
“Yeah. Who are you?”
Olivia replied in her rudest tone. “I’m the old bitch. Who are you?”
Elsbet was not to be outdone. “I’m Sergeant Go Fuck Yourself.”
Olivia almost smiled. “Huh.”
“Olivia’s not very polite, I’m afraid” said Iokan.
“Oh, you’re Olivia? The one with all the dead people?” asked Elsbet.
“That’s right. I hear you two made friends pretty quick.” She eyed Elsbet and Iokan.
Elsbet snapped back: “Nothing happened. If it had, I’d have ripped his nuts off.”
Olivia did smile this time. “Serve him right!”
“I can assure you there’s nothing between us…” said Iokan, though no one paid any attention.
“So what’s your story, Sergeant Go Fuck Yourself?” asked Olivia.
“That’s my business.”
“Hah! You’ve got a hope. There’s nothing you can keep secret here, girl. They’ll have it out of you and expect you to say thanks afterwards. Might as well say it here and now and get it over with.” Elsbet kept her mouth shut with a sneer. “Well? What are you? Come on, spit it out! I haven’t got all day!”
“I had a drill instructor like you once,” said Elsbet to Olivia.
“Yeh?”
“He was a miserable arsehole as well.”
“That’s not very nice…” said Pew, confused.
Olivia laughed. “Leave her be. She’s all right.”
“You are a soldier,” nodded Kwame, understanding.
“Yeah. You?”
“Once.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.”
Pew spoke up. “Olivia was kind of a soldier too…”
Elsbet looked at Olivia. “That true?”
“Coroner Corps. We killed dead people.” She looked round at everyone else. “So the rest of you were locked in as well, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Anybody know why yet?”
“I’ve heard nothing,” said Iokan.
“Where’s Liss?” asked Pew.
“Who’s Liss?” asked Elsbet.
“The other member of the group… ah,” said Iokan, realising something.
The door opened. Veofol and I entered the room and sat down in the circle. “Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late. I imagine you’re all wondering what was going on last night…”
“You locked us up!” exclaimed Olivia.
“I’m afraid we had to lock down the centre.”
“You had us in there for six hours!”
“There was a security alert. I’m sorry, but we didn’t have a choice.”
“Security alert? What bloody security alert?”
“Perhaps we should wait for Liss?” said Kwame.
“She won’t be joining us,” I said.
“You’re not answering my question!” said Olivia.
Iokan sat forward. “It was Liss, wasn’t it?”
“What?” asked Kwame.
“Liss was the security alert. Or else she’d be here,” said Iokan.
“She was involved, yes,” I said.
“Was she hurt?” asked Pew.
“I can’t talk about the details, but she wasn’t hurt.”
Iokan’s look drifted as he analysed the situation. “No… if she’d been killed or injured, you’d have told us.” He snapped his look back on me. “She caused the alert. Didn’t she?”
“Well…” I sighed. I’d been hoping to defer this discussion, but that clearly wasn’t going to be enough. “I suppose you deserve to know. Liss left the centre without permission.”
“What…?” said Kwame.
“You mean she escaped?” asked Iokan.
“That’s not the word I’d use,” I said.
“How the bloody hell could Liss escape?” asked Olivia.
“I take it she’s not what she seemed to be,” said Iokan.
“As far as we can tell, she was something like a police officer. She was investigating the genocide on her world,” I said.
“She thinks it was done by people from another universe?”
“That may be the case, yes.”
“And where is she now?” asked Kwame.
“In custody. Security are interviewing her. That’s really all I know.”
4. Liss
Liss wore the shapeless paper overalls given to prisoners, re-issued every day so nothing could be hidden in them; they were also designed to fall apart if the wearer started doing anything stressful (like escaping), which dissuaded most people from attempting to break out.
She slumped into the chair opposite me, and the AI warder, wearing one of the standard robot shells, chained her to the table. She didn’t look at me; she kept her eyes down, pretending disinterest.
“She’s secure,” said the warder, though not to me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to chain her legs as well?” I asked. It didn’t get the smile from Liss I was hoping for. The warder looked down at me through artificial eyes.