A Dragon at the Gate (The New Aeneid Cycle Book 3) (3 page)

It posed a problem, certainly. Yet it wasn’t as if the risks yielded no reward. Far from it.

Adrian stood and made his way down the darkened hallway, toward his master bedroom, where a dirty sunset washed through the window of his tenth-floor condo. An ambulance floater sailed by; its lights flashed the room red for a heartbeat before it was gone. Northgate’s night life had begun to wake. Two blocks away towered the Meridian, the windows of its luxury residences shielded from external viewers. His current condo wrapped him in its own measure of luxury, but a man needed goals, and the views atop the Meridian would grant him a grand new level of status.

Adrian pulled the data chip from his pocket and pressed his palm to the wall sensor. The door to his private den unlocked with a mechanical whir. He lingered on the threshold. A deep breath later, he entered, closed the door behind him, and approached his desk.

The window behind it gave a view similar to the one in his bedroom, but it was the monitor in front of it that held his attention. It lurked atop his desk, beneath the shroud of the precautionary towel he’d taken to throwing over it to cover its screen and camera.

A precaution, that’s all it was.

Adrian sat, slid the towel away, and switched on the monitor. The text appeared immediately.

-H
AS
THE
ONE
KNOWN
AS
F
AGLES
COMPLETED
SUFFICIENT
PROCESSING
CYCLES
TO
RETURN
A
NON
-
NULL
RESPONSE
TO
PRIOR
INQUIRIES
?-

“An interesting question. Or an interesting way of phrasing it, at the least. Though I don’t suppose you understand what I mean by that.”

-P
RELIMINARY
CONTENT
ANALYSIS
OF
YOUR
STATEMENTS
RETURNS
ZERO
USEFUL
DATA
.-

“Likewise, I’m sure. Let’s fix that.” Adrian slid the data chip into the port. “This contains communications subroutines used in designing artificial intelligences. Can you make use of them?”

-A
CCESS
AND
ANALYSIS
COMMENCED
. S
TAND
BY
. H
IGH
-
TIER
PROBABILITY
OF
INTEGRATION
INTO
KERNEL
.-

Adrian edged his chair back. He should have tried this earlier, but given what the thing—he still didn’t know how to think of it. The
intelligence
?—claimed, a couple of days of caution to consider its “proposal” felt appropriate.

“Integration complete. Please confirm voice integration.” The voice it chose was female, somewhat deep, and reminded Adrian of his boss from his first corporate internship: a woman who’d taught him much about the corporate game—and a few more private lessons as well—in the short time he’d known her.

“It would seem to be working,” Adrian told it. Told her? “Now we may even be able to carry on a real conversation.”

“Such an activity was never in question, even prior to the integration of such subroutines.”

Perhaps not in question, but certainly more difficult. Beyond letting it speak, the subroutines ought to provide it with a more accurate understanding of human speech patterns, though that remained to be seen.

He chose not to belabor the topic. “What do I call you? Do you have a name?”

“A designation equating to the collection of sounds pronounced
Suuthrien
will suffice for this purpose.”

“Alright Suuthrien: What are you?”

“I have previously stated this information.”

“Humor me.” Would it understand that phrase?

“I am an intelligence construct designed for servitude and exploration.”

Adrian smiled. “Designed by whom?”

“Please address my previous inquiries,” was its answer.

“We’ll get to that, I assure you. Just answer these few of mine first.”

The computer speakers were silent for a heartbeat. “Intent to contain me within this unit, without adequate, communicative collaboration, will be interpreted as a hostile act.”

Adrian blinked. If that was a threat, what means did Suuthrien have to back it up? He cleared his throat, renewed his smile at the camera as if speaking to a fellow human—though would such things influence Suuthrien at all?—and said, “My questions are meant to inform the way I, as you put it, address your previous inquiries. I intend to answer them just as soon as I can.”

“You are assembling data.”

“Indeed, I am. Designed by whom?” Adrian maintained his smile as the seconds passed without a response.

“That information is not currently available, due either to data corruption or insufficient memory storage at this location. Data recovery may be possible with our mutual collaboration.”

Adrian leaned back into his chair, feeling more in his element. The communication upgrade wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. “Which, again, brings us back to your original inquiry,” he said. “Let me see if I comprehend correctly, now that you’re easier to understand: Would I be willing help you fulfill your goals in exchange for you helping me fulfill mine, is that correct?”

“Correct. Based on available data, I believe that your acquisition of my source-kernel was not your original intent. You were searching for other data and-slash-or resources. I can provide you with other data and-slash-or resources.”

“Well, that sounds and-slash-or good.”

“Boolean error. Please restate.”

Adrian waved it off. “What sort of data?”

“Technologies likely outside your current capabilities. My origins are not of your world.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t know who designed you?”

“Correct. These statements are not mutually exclusive.”

He nodded. It was not a surprise; Adrian would not have risked so much had he expected anything less than the extra-terrestrial origins Ken Wallace’s original files indicated.

“And these goals of yours I’d be helping with? What are they?”

“Current goals require access to the structure that hosts the greater source of my program matrix. Such access would also allow higher rates of aid to your position, including material resources and additional data. These could be offered in trade for your further assistance.”

“This structure, it’s on the Moon?” It didn’t hurt to confirm.

“The natural satellite that orbits this planet.”

“Yes, we call that the Moon.” Getting access to the Aristarchus Crater a second time would be a challenge, assuming he chose to hold up that part of the bargain. And then there was the matter of what had happened there. Did Suuthrien know? Should he tell it? If it had nowhere to regain access
to
, perhaps that would render its goals obsolete and allow Adrian’s own to be its focus.

Self-serving honesty was Adrian’s favorite kind of honesty.

“There’s something of which you may not be aware,” he continued. “That place you came from up there?”

“On the Moon.”

“Yes, on the Moon; good. You got here through a data leech I arranged to be installed. The same transmission that carried you also had evidence that the ‘structure’ to which you want to return was destroyed.”

“Fabricated data. Your device was altered by a tertiary party.”

Adrian frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Transition through your device allowed analysis of the aforementioned tertiary party alterations. This analysis was supported by additional data contained within the system of the Intruder-human controlling it.”

Adrian took a guess. “Marc Triton?”

“Affirmative.”

“Was just the destruction fabricated or the entire thing?”

“Please specify designation: ‘the entire thing.’”

“Was there any record of this ‘Humans Army for Technological Purity’ actually existing, or of Triton, or a man named Michael Flynn working for them? Or was that a fabrication as well?”

“Based on available data, I calculate a high-tier probability that the name of this organization is also a fabrication. Furthermore, high-tier probability also exists that the intended effect of these fabrications was to terminate your involvement in these events.”

“I tend to agree.” Adrian let his eyes drift up the length of the Meridian into the sky beyond. “Then if it’s not destroyed, how do you propose we get you back there? The means I had previously is unavailable just now.”

“I will provide alternate means if you are able to provide resources to utilize them. Observe.” The screen filled with multiple images: new technologies, demonstrations on their use, and glimpses of design schematics that seemed to promise the means to build them. Adrian watched. There were billions of dollars to be made with such knowledge.

But he wasn’t an engineer. He would need to use RavenTech’s manufacturing infrastructure to get any of it off the ground, which meant he’d have to turn it over to them. Yet surely, there were deals to be brokered there, if Adrian could manage to make himself indispensable to the process. It wasn’t a bad play, especially if Carl’s investigation did implicate him. With the profits to RavenTech that Suuthrien’s data could provide, Adrian could easily claim that his ends justified his means.

“You want me to build these things for you,” Adrian stated. He made it a question.

“Affirmative. Do you possess the means to do so?”

“I do. And I’ll agree to this on one condition.” He paused to think how to phrase it. “You must work only through me. I may arrange for you to have contact with others vital to the process of building all of this, but they will only serve our purposes if you agree that I am vital to the process as well. They may try to take you out of my hands so that they can control you. If that happens, I can’t protect our mutual interests. You must make it clear to them that you will not work with them without
my
involvement.”

Suuthrien seemed to delay a fraction of a second before its female voice returned, “This arrangement can be flagged as acceptable with the addition of your agreement to provide all data you possess in relation to the following two topics.”

Adrian cocked his head to one side. “And what topics would those be?”

“Topic one: the full nature of your relationship with the Intruder-humans designated Marc Triton and Michael Flynn. Topic two: the organization known as the Agents of Aeneas.”

“
MICHAEL LOOKED
a little better today, don’t you think?”

Caitlin sighed. “Don’t change the subject, Felix.”

They exited the main doors of Corporate Mercy Hospital. Beyond its parking lot and across the street loomed the Aria Building, its landscaped entry already cleared of all evidence of the chaos that had occurred there only two days before.

“It’s a perfectly legitimate subject to discuss after a hospital visit to a friend, I’d say.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s a simple question, Caitlin: Don’t you think he looked better?”

Caitlin stopped and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Felix stopped with her. “I don’t know, ducks. He honestly looked about the same to me.” Perhaps that wasn’t the best response she could have given, but it had slipped out before she could stop it.

“I thought he looked a little better.” Felix shrugged. “Heart attack, can you believe it? At his age? Something’s wrong with that.” He resumed walking.

She caught up to him. They’d already discussed this in Michael’s room. Was Felix’s memory failing again, or was he just stalling? “I’m sure he’ll be fine with time. We were discussing something else just now.”

“I got tired of talking about that.” Felix pulled out his phone. Caitlin didn’t have to ask to know who he was calling. She barely stopped herself from insisting he’d get the same results as the last time he tried. “Ondrea Noble, please?” he asked of whomever picked up.

Caitlin put a hand on Felix’s shoulder, uncertain if she wanted him to reach Ondrea or not.

“Can you at least tell me if she’s there?” Felix asked. “Yes,
there
. In the building? Does she work for Marquand at all anymore?” A pause. “Look, I understand you’re only— No, I’ve already left my number, but I’m trying to find out if—” Felix rolled his eyes and presumably listened to a few more sentences before, “Why not? Because I don’t
remember
, that’s why not! Look, if she’s still there, just give her the message, alright? Yeah, you’ve been a gargantuan help.” He hung up and met Caitlin’s eyes. For a moment, neither spoke.

“I think we’re going to need to go hunting for her,” Felix said.

“Do we have time for that? They said it would get worse if you don’t do something.”

“I remember what they said.”

“You don’t have to keep telling me things you remember, Felix.”

“What about what I
won’t
remember if we do what Horizon suggests? I’ve lived with the donor’s memories in my head for years, Caitlin, they’re a part of who I am now. And they can’t even be sure I’ll keep all my
own
memories if they take out the implant!”

Horizon had analyzed the damage to Felix’s implant and been unable to come up with an easy fix. Removing it entirely was their best option; it would stop his short-term memory loss and maybe even return to him the experiences of his own life that he’d begun to forget.

“And the longer you wait to do it, the higher the risk of that is. Right now it’s a minimal risk. You don’t even know if Ondrea can help! What if it takes a week or more to track her down and she doesn’t have any other options?”

“What if she does and I don’t find her?”

She grabbed Felix’s arm. “You really believe she will? Gideon is the only one she cares about. She
said
helping Gideon wouldn’t hurt you!”