Unstable Prototypes (2 page)

The second secret had to do with the fact
that the owner of his apartment building was a man named Nicholas
Patel, the head of one of the better known organized crime
syndicates, and why precisely he was allowing Lex to live rent
free. Michella had never expressed curiosity about it for the
simple reason that she didn't know about it, and had so far not
been given any reason to suspect it. This was very fortunate, since
the last time he'd become tangled with the mob it had led to the
aforementioned fixed race, which had in turn led to the destruction
of his career and a two year hiatus in their relationship. She
would tolerate an awful lot, but she could not abide getting mixed
up with mobsters. Michella had never explained why she felt that
way, but he'd learned a thing or two about her childhood, and he
suspected she had very good reasons.

Lex just finished dumping a final load of
miscellaneous debris into the garbage, and was admiring an
apartment that was almost respectable, when a tone alerted him to a
visitor at the apartment building's front door. He walked over and
tapped the panel beside the door. The video feed showed him the not
quite face-on view of a person who didn't know where to look when
waiting to be let in. It was a man with an inebriated grin showing
off a grand total of four teeth. His face looked like it was in the
process of being reclaimed by a jungle of gray, scraggly hair. The
beard in particular looked like it had won a revolution.

"Um... do I know you?" Lex asked.

"Trevor Alexander?" the grimy man
slurred.

Lex flinched. After one too many run-ins with
the law, you begin to dread hearing your full name spoken out
loud.

"Yeah?"

"You're 'sposed to give me a stack of
chips."

"Sorry, sir. I don't have time for this.
There's a homeless shelter three blocks down."

He shut off the screen and checked the time.
Michella would be showing up in ten minutes. He debated on lighting
a candle, ostensibly to set a more romantic mood, but primarily to
take the edge off of the combination of window cleaner and leftover
takeout food that was currently the dominant aroma. Deciding that
it was probably a wise decision, he started rummaging through the
solitary closet in his apartment to find one. Before long, there
was a knock at the door. He checked the time again, then shut the
closet and answered the door.

After living in an apartment for as long as
he had, Lex had begun to react differently to a knock at the door
than others would. Since strangers were all stopped at the front
door of the building, if someone was knocking on your specific
door, it meant they either worked for the building, were a
neighbor, or were given access by you or a neighbor. Thus, ninety
percent of the time the person on the other side of the door would
be someone you know. This turned out to be part of the other ten
percent.

The door opened to reveal the very same
grizzled homeless man who had spoken to him a moment ago. Lex
slammed the door, latched the door chain, then opened it again,
peering through the crack. A potent combination of body odor and
fortified wine fumes wafted past him.

"How did you get in here?!" he asked.

"Yer magic dog let me in."

"My what?"

"Yer dog! I brung yer magic dog!"

His aromatic visitor held up a creature that
could certainly be easily confused for a dog. It was about the size
of a large terrier, and had generally canine features, but a close
inspection of the pointed ears and narrow muzzle, combined with the
black coloring with white stripes and massive fluffy tail, gave it
the overall appearance of a cross between a skunk and a fox, which
is exactly what it was. The result was a maddeningly cute creature,
eyes and feet a bit too big, and tail easily as large as the rest
of its body. In short, it looked like a stuffed animal artisan's
magnum opus. Lex crooked his head to the side and raised an
eyebrow.

"Solby?" he asked, recalling the name of the
last such beast he'd encountered.

"Not precisely, Mr. Alexander," remarked what
sounded like an edited together recording of three women and a
synthetic voice.

Lex whipped around to face the panel beside
his door, from which the voice had originated.

"Ma!?" he yelped.

"In a manner of speaking," it replied.

The bewildered young man turned back to the
still upheld creature. In a maneuver that finally managed to push
the weirdness factor over the edge, it winked.

Lex reluctantly opened the door, allowing the
man and his creature inside.

"Ma, did you send Solby here? Who is this
guy?" Lex asked, addressing the panel beside his door.

For the sake of clarity, it is worth pointing
out that Lex was not under any impression that he was speaking to
his mother. The unmistakably unique 'voice' belonged to an
individual he'd met during his last adventure. She was an AI
created by a man named Karter Dee, designed to take care of him and
his facility. Depending on who you believed, the program owed its
name to either its nurturing nature, or the fact that it cooked all
of his food, washed all of his dishes, and nagged him incessantly.
She was really quite an achievement, a computer program capable of
genuine warmth, compassion, and integrity; three things that her
creator completely lacked. She also had a vindictive streak if you
got on her bad side.

"I will explain everything shortly. But
first-" Ma began.

"You owe me a stack of chips," the homeless
man interjected.

"I don't even know who you are!" Lex
protested.

"I am afraid I promised him that you would
provide him with four one thousand credit chips in exchange for his
aid. You will be reimbursed, of course. I would have paid him
myself, but I was unable to transfer non-digital assets in my
current state, and time was limited."

"Jeez, Ma. Four thousand credits? You don't
know much about haggling, do you?" Lex said, digging through a jar
on the ledge below his ridiculously large flatscreen until he found
four of the correct value of poker chips.

The gambling tokens had slipped into the void
left behind when cash had finally been entirely replaced by
digital-only credits, and Lex found it useful to keep a ready
supply. He dropped them into the bum's hand and ushered him out the
door.

"If you ever need somebody to walk that
thing, you can-"

"Not going to happen. Thanks for dropping it
off. You know the way out," Lex said, shutting the door behind his
odoriferous visitor.

The creature that he left behind hopped up
onto the futon.

"No no no no, off the furniture!" he scolded,
scooping up the creature and depositing it back on the ground. The
creature, technically called a funk, sat obediently on the floor
and regarded Lex with a calm, even stare.

"I apologize. I am not entirely certain of
the appropriate etiquette in situations such as this," Ma
stated.

"What? Never mind. Ma, you want to explain
what the hell is going on here? You can start with how that guy got
through the front door."

"I apologize for that as well. He was
beginning to attract attention, and I could not afford any more
delay, so I opened the outer door. The encryption algorithm was
fairly naive."

"Okay. Why did you send someone to deliver
Solby? And why are you talking to me over the door panel right
now?"

"As I indicated, this is not Solby. Solby is
a male. This is a female. It seemed more appropriate. As for the
reason for the visit, I'm afraid I have a rather significant favor
to ask of you."

Lex sighed. "A favor? What is it? Does he
want me to funk-sit? Or is it more beta testing? Why couldn't
Karter just send an email like he usually does?"

'Beta testing' was a service that Lex had
begun to provide his inventor associate following their
collaboration in the VectorCorp situation. He would try out a
variety of equipment, usually dealing with spaceship parts. In
exchange for pointing out any glaring flaws and providing feedback,
he would be paid or be allowed to keep an improved version of the
equipment in question. The arrangement had proven to be mutually
beneficial.

"I will provide details shortly, but before I
begin, I have a more minor and immediate favor to ask. If it is not
too much of an intrusion upon your hospitality, I would be grateful
if you could spare some food. It has been some time since I last
ate."

"You're an AI talking to me over a data
connection, Ma. You don't eat."

"That is not an entirely accurate assessment
at the present time, I am afraid."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look at the creature at your feet, Lex."

He did so. It was still staring at him,
showing a calmness that he didn't think was physically possible for
the species. Solby was in perpetual motion. Even when forced to sit
still he would practically vibrate with enthusiasm, waiting until
he was given permission to prance about again. This creature seemed
perfectly composed and poised, looking him in the eye steadily. It
lowered its head slightly, revealing a marble-sized glass nub amid
the fur on its neck.

"Do you remember the purpose of this device?"
asked Ma, the glass bead flickering red as she spoke.

"Yeah. That's the thing Karter uses to upload
and download Solby's brain. Leave it to that guy to make backup
copies of his pet."

"Indeed. More generally, it is a high speed,
wide band data radio."

"It sure does flash a lot more than Solby's
does."

"Yes. You will find it flashing every time
that I speak."

"As a matter of fact it is."

The creature raised its head again.

"That is because I am using it to speak,
transmitting to the wall panel."

"So, what, you're using this little lady as a
transceiver?"

"I am using her as temporary storage."

"Storage? Wait... you mean..."

"It is nice to finally speak to you face to
face, Lex."

Lex stared blankly at the creature at his
feet as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

"Perhaps you could look into the issue of
food while you cope with this revelation?" she offered.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah," he said, eagerly latching
onto the task his brain could handle, "I don't have any pet food or
anything like that. We aren't allowed to have pets. Except for my
landlady's cats... Before she got bought out, anyway. I guess that
might have changed now that Patel is in charge."

"Funks have highly flexible dietary needs. A
caloric distribution of approximately 20% protein, 10% fat, and 70%
carbohydrates would fit my current requirements."

Lex pulled open his refrigerator, then his
cabinets. In typical bachelor fashion, both were virtually free
from any ingredients that could not be eaten directly out of the
container, or failing that, after a few seconds in the
microwave.

"Uh. I don't really organize my food by
protein content. I've got instant noodles, cheese curls, protein
drink, re-fried beans..."

"That will be sufficient."

"The beans? Oh, yeah. I guess Karter did
always feed Solby burritos."

He peeled the top off of the container, dug
through the cabinet for a dish, found the only appropriate one to
be in the sink, and set about washing it.

"You need this heated up or anything?" he
asked.

"That will not be necessary."

"Right. Okay. Just a minute."

As he went about rinsing the largest pieces
of stubborn food from the bowl and tried to arrange his thoughts
into a series of questions, he was too distracted to notice the
sound of his door blipping open. Thus, he didn't know that Michella
had arrived until he heard her utter "Trev?" followed by a
squealing coo. Lex burst into the main room of the apartment to
find his girlfriend crouched in front of Ma.

"Awwwww! Look at you, you little darling!"
she gushed, face scrunched adorably. "Trev, is this your dog?"

Ma looked up at the visitor, an unnervingly
dignified look on her face

"Michella! Uh, no, no. A friend of mine
dropped her off."

"Does she bite?"

"I seriously doubt it, but-"

Before he could object, she scooped up the
little creature and held her up, cuddling tightly. For a moment or
two, Ma wore a face of introspection, eyes squinting and head
tipped to the side. Then her mouth dropped open and she yipped
three times before somewhat mechanically beginning to lick at
Michella's ear and rustle her tail. It was a pale imitation of
Solby's manic enthusiasm, but it was enough to delight Michella.
Lex felt as though he should put a stop to it, but the sight of
them together was just too good to interrupt.

If you had asked a scientist to design a
laboratory perfect example of girl-next-door gorgeous, Michella
would be the result. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a
ponytail. She hadn't bothered to put her "camera face" on, so her
freckles were showing on her cheeks. Her skin tone and features
showed of a healthy mix of Latin American in her gene pool, with a
few glaring departures inherited from a dash of European somewhere
along the line. Rather than her on-screen contacts, she was wearing
her librarian-style eyeglasses, highlighting her sapphire blue
eyes. A pair of designer jeans and a plain white t-shirt featuring
the logo of her favorite band, Death Zone Dumpster, hugged curves
that had inspired what might well be the first image board on the
net dedicated to an investigative reporter. As she fawned over the
little creature held to her chest, Lex took the time to snap a
picture with his slidepad before interrupting the love-fest.

"You two want a room?" he asked.

"She's such a cutie. What breed is this?" she
asked.

"I don't know. A rare one. One of those
designer breeds."