Марта Уэллс - Network Effect

All my remaining drones were on sentry duty, but I made Amena go to an unused bunkroom near the galley because it was easier to defend if we were attacked by something. (It was unlikely, but so was everything unexpected that had happened so far. My risk assessment module had given up generating reports three hours ago.)

Amena tried to just lie down on the bare bunk and pillow her head on the sealed bedding pack but I made her get up and unfold it and do it right. (“You’re mean,” she groaned.)

I opened another bedding pack so my bunk would be more comfortable to sit on. I had a lot of coding and analysis to do so I wouldn’t be caught unprepared again. I needed to create workarounds for the drone-resistant camouflage on the targetDrones and countermeasures for the Target’s helmets and gear. I also needed to anticipate how targetControlSystem would countermeasure my countermeasures so I wouldn’t be screwed by an on-the-fly software update. I needed to analyze the solid-state screen device and find out if it really was a Pre–Corporation Rim relic. And I had to analyze the new data files I had just created from the shuttle’s logs.

I pulled in the data Ratthi had uploaded to the feed during his pathology examinations and the scans of the Targets’ suits and helmets. Overse had also done some helpful hardware analysis of the targetDrones. Then I got my queries and processes running so I could get started on the code. I also split off an input and started World Hoppers episode 1. I’d seen it before (lots of times before) so I didn’t need to give it my full attention.

(I really, really wanted some time to pull a new show out of longterm storage and watch a few episodes so I could really relax, but World Hoppers in background would help. It was also bait.)

After twenty-seven minutes, it worked. I was aware of ART looming in my feed. (Imagine sitting in front of a display surface and someone eight times your size shoulders in and sits in the chair with you.) It was watching World Hoppers, and also backseat driving my coding and doing its own analysis of the data. The solid-state screen device does resemble known schematics of Pre–Corporation Rim technology, ART reported, showing me a scan and the matching examples. But it is not a factory-built unit; it was assembled from components gleaned from other devices of similar age. No trace of alien remnant or known strange synthetics detected.

That made sense. It could have been a replacement unit built by humans in the Pre–Corporation Rim colony. Or a unit built by the later abandoned corporate humans, with parts desperately scavenged from the old colony, as their own tech resources failed and they struggled to survive.

Yeah, corporations suck.

I liked the code we were coming up with, but I didn’t think it was enough. None of it was making my threat assessment stats look any better. I told ART, Everything we’re doing is defensive. We need an attack .

I’ve considered constructing a killware assault, but the data I managed to retain from targetControlSystem suggests it would be ineffective . ART displayed some analysis for me. Both Ratthi and Overse have theorized that some elements of the Targets’ Pre–Corporation Rim technology—for example, the implants—may be acting as receivers for esoteric alien remnant tech, like the object that affected my drive. A standard killware assault on the Pre-CR systems would not be able to take into account the alien system, not unless it was variable and could alter its behavior based on the protections and obstructions it encounters. I can’t code that with the resources I have available .

It was talking about something similar to the self-aware virus that GrayCris and Palisade Security had deployed against the company gunship, where I’d crashed myself and nearly wrecked my memory archive helping the bot pilot fight it off. Which gave me an idea, but I didn’t know if it was something we could implement.

Then Thiago crossed through the galley, came down our corridor, and leaned in the doorway. Watching him through ART’s camera view, I saw him glance at Amena, who at the moment was an inert pile of limbs under a blanket with a pillow jammed into her face. (Humans do everything weird, including rest.) Then he looked at me. Keeping his voice low, he said, “May I join you?”

ART engaged the sound/privacy field on Amena’s bunk. I thought about saying “no.” But I thought he wanted to sleep on one of the bunks within sight of Amena because he didn’t trust me to take care of her. So I marked my killware idea as save-for-later and said, “Yes.”

He sat down on the bunk across from me, pulled the bedding pack out from under it, but then set it aside.

Oh good, we’re going to have a chat.

“If you have a moment, I was hoping we could talk,” he said.

I could have said that I didn’t have a moment what with writing code to save humans from whatever the stupid Targets were but I did have a moment. ART had constructed a simulation of the software fix that had protected the Targets’ helmets and gear from my drone strikes and was running tests of my new targeting code for my drones. The targetDrones’ camouflage was harder to crack due to being a physical effect rather than something caused by signal interference. None of the filters I’d come up with for the drones’ scan or targeting functions would work, at least according to the simulations. Continuing to ram my head into that particular wall wasn’t going to get me anywhere until I thought up an alternate approach. So instead of being an asshole, I just said, “Go ahead.”

He said, “I know you don’t believe it, but I was glad you came along on this survey.”

Oh, please. I could have played the audio recording I had of what he had said to Dr. Mensah about me, but that was a little incriminating with the whole listening to private conversations in secured spaces and personal dwellings thing. I said, “So you didn’t have serious reservations?”

There was that little flash of surprise some humans have when I say something that doesn’t sound like what their idea of a SecUnit should say. He said, slowly, “I did.” It had been too long for a human to remember what he had said verbatim and he didn’t know I was quoting him. Still, his eyes narrowed a little. “And I know you’ve saved our lives.” He hesitated.

There was an unvoiced “but” on the end of that sentence. I didn’t want to spend a lot of time on this, so I said, “But you don’t like the way I did it.”

His gaze went hard and he said, “I don’t. And I don’t like the fact that Amena saw you do it. But that’s not the problem.”

On our private connection, ART said, Don’t ask the question unless you already know the answer.

Right, so I didn’t listen to ART. I said, “What problem?”

ART did the feed equivalent of rolling its eyes and started another episode of World Hoppers .

Thiago said, “You have leverage over Ayda.”

That one got me. Fortunately ART was keeping track of the processes so I didn’t screw up the data analysis. It also provided a definition of the word leverage. I know what it means, I told ART privately. And I did, but not the way Thiago meant. I think. I said, “I don’t tell Dr. Mensah what to do.”

Thiago’s jaw went tight. “I’m sure you didn’t. But she’s afraid to carry out her duties as council leader. She won’t apply to continue her term. That’s because of you. You’ve made her afraid of shadows. She never needed ‘security’ before you came to Preservation. Now she thinks she can’t do her job without it.”

There were so many things wrong and unfair and yet true about that I started dropping inputs. ART picked them up and transferred them to our shared workspace. I said, “I didn’t come to Preservation. I was brought there in an inactive state after incurring a catastrophic failure while saving Dr. Mensah’s life.”