Brobots Page 8

  ‘Are you sure? Doesn’t it just make it all look …well thought through?’

  ‘Hmmmm.’ Giuliana was right. Yana would need to climb to higher branches. Without doing that she’d be making mere insinuation.

  ‘I have a contact through my blogging work. He lives in Austria. If you like, I can include his details in the package I send you. Whatever you decide, this can’t be traced back to PID.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And we didn’t have this conversation.’

  ‘I’ll make sure my screening drones get scrubbed before I publish anything.’

  ‘You checked that the screening was working, didn’t you?’

  ‘90%’

  ‘Good enough I suppose. Where shall I deposit the pass key?’

  ‘I have three fake onion accounts with screened IP’s. This is the address for the first one in the chain.’ Yana took out a pen and scribbled an email address onto a thickly folded paper serviette, making sure the indentations did not reach the café table top.

  ‘And you want my contact?’

  ‘I…don’t know. But you may as well include it in the package.’

  ‘Ciao Miss Daltry. Have a safe and pleasant… onward trip.’

  ‘Ciai Giuliana. It was a pleasure to meet you.

  Sacred geometry. Golden ratios. Logarithmic spirals. Patterns found at the smallest scale reproduced in the largest once each part combines. Simple plane trips with sunlight glittering on oceans of cloud below. Check-ins. Check-outs. Travelling without moving. A mind wandering, piecing together the parts; assembling and striking out sentences, claims, quotes, and pictures. Risk balanced against desire. Status quo balanced against the quest for truth. Truth balanced against perspective. Opportunity with threat. A man in an Austrian castle who didn’t know, but knew someone who did. A friend in a high place himself, right back on home soil. Someone who could speak? Someone Yana could trust? Someone with some proof? Or just another person on the edge of a story; a peripheral character with yet more hearsay, yet more leads.

  And then a break. Another Edward. Someone else wanting to speak given the opportunity. Someone waiting for Yana. Someone with power, but also with evidence.

  Media contact: Yana Daltry // Scrinton City Globe

  112.299.5864 // daltryana@report.ing

  Lead line.

  Who. What. When. Where. Why. How.

  Deeper details. Attachments.

  (Ten revisions. Eight cups of coffee.)

  Send.

  NewsWire360

  ‘Evidence has emerged that the asset, technology and knowledge pacts between USA, Italy and 12 other former NATO states were orchestrated by an international group about which no state government appears to have formal knowledge. The findings call into question the standing of the pacts and the operations of leading figures in the US military, government and industry.

  ‘The information, released today, shows evidence that a top-secret meeting was held in Switzerland 2039 between politicians, military leaders from 11 of the 12 states, and other notable figures from technology firms. A leaked memo from the meeting suggests the purpose of the gathering was to agree on pact details up to 11 years prior to US government debate. The US Attorney General moreover suggests there is now reason to believe a so-called cartel of contract operators, together with military and political figures, have taken control of key security assets in order to merge military operations. Investigations have begun, but are likely to take many years. The president has appealed for calm and stated that US Military operations remain sovereign.

  ‘In a related breathtaking story, Construcsapli – the US supplier of sentient construction workers troubled since launch - is now suing for compensation on the loss of a recent military contract bid. Evidence shows predetermination to hand the contract to a pact country as part of the combined force deal. Here’s Brett Cannaby with more.’

  ‘When Brobotics, Inc. formed in 2035 it was one in a line of new companies offering AI products to homes, schools, factories and more. Walk into a corner shop to buy a paper or ride a taxi pod and you’re more than likely to be using Brobotics’ technology. Just four years after its formation, deals were struck behind closed Swiss doors ensuring that military contracts would never be given to civilian-owned companies within the planned pact States. They would instead pass between the states – seemingly in order create one shared owner and set the stage for a combined international military force.

  ‘Brobotics launched sister company Construcsapli 2051 taking the country by storm with semi-sentient construction workers. At least, they would have had alleged incompetence not been the flavor of their launch. They persisted however, and two years ago launched fully sentient type D models.

  ‘We now know that Dartonia, one of the largest construction firms in the US formed 2050, and not the earlier date claimed, had been conceptualized at the Switzerland meeting in 2039 to provide a military-owned test bed for imminent sentient assets such as Construcsapli offered. Every Dartonia board member at the time was present at the Swiss meeting without exception and Dartonia was the first and largest customer for the Brobotics spin-out. Construcsapli’s legal battle will now focus on whether Dartonia was involved in a botched marketing launch for their products as well as whether international trade laws have been breached, and even a case of industrial sabotage to their supply lines.

  ‘Also in today’s leak it transpires 2051’s “hack Tuesday” – the hacker cell crackdown that took the infamous Jules White out of Italy to face trial back home may have been a stunt planned by the cartel to force legitimate US government debate to compensate a potential pact country with contracts for sentient soldiers - thereby easing the transition of the pact Bill into law…’

  Jared

  ‘Massive. You’re in the shit I can tell. Coffee?’

  Jared was at his booth at work staring at his wristband and wondering what the best message should be to his old friend Yana. It was clear to him with her story echoing across international media that he was one step closer to switching Byron back on.

  But it was also clear to him that Yana’s story was much bigger than a Scrinton City Globe could handle. Heck, it was much bigger than most journalists could handle. So, she’d have earned the respect of her employer; but she’d also be in personal trouble – on the look out. Running a bit scared, perhaps. He was astonished, really. He didn’t think Yana would have it in her. But then again, she was a strong woman. She never held back, and always spoke truth to power. That’s why he loved her so. (That, plus her tolerance for alcohol.)

  But this was the wrong message, so he deleted, and started again. ‘You’re coming to mine after work.’

  No. That was still wrong. She probably couldn’t go to any obvious places right now. She’d have all sorts of people after her; some innocent, some malevolent, and some not even human. Drones, software robots tracking her every move. She’d just shaken the nation to its core with her news piece. This was going to change her life. Shit. Did that mean she would be gone from his?

  Jared put that thought to one side and re-composed. ‘I guess texting’s not gonna work. Remember the place we first met? I’ll be there. 7pm tonight.’ Send.

  It wasn’t Palm Tree Bar. It wasn’t his place or her place. It wasn’t Jared’s newly-discovered favorite-Yana-coffee-house. It wasn’t any of the haunts that had become theirs in recent years. It was the city museum. To be precise, it was the modernism gallery.

  The day they’d met there had been an exhibition of Andy Warhol’s work. They’d found each other looking at the original “Shot Marilyns”. Today there was nothing like that in the gallery room - just some rather confusing Mondrian rectangles and squares. But this was a specific room; even a specific wall. And Jared knew Yana would be there if she could.

  ‘Fabulous, isn’t she?’, Yana said from behind Jared’s back. It was the first line she’d used the day they’d met, and she wasn’t referring to the Mondrian painting Jared was now vacantly staring
at. He knew the reply.

  ‘Oh, she is. But I couldn’t take her home.’

  Yana swung round his shoulder, coming into view and following the script: ‘No? Too expensive?’

  ‘No. Not that. I can’t stand purple.’

  He gave Yana a winning smile – perhaps the same smile they’d exchanged all those years ago. She’d come. He had a tear in his eye. He knew deep down that this might be the last time he’d see his friend in a while. They walked slowly to the museum café – wonderfully still open until late and playing jazz.

  ‘I doubt you’ll be promoted.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘But you could probably get a job anywhere now. Just… not here.’

  ‘Right again.’

  ‘But you’ll need to lay low for a few weeks. The story’ll turn from shock surprise to something every senator will be talking about, to older news – and then you’ll be ready to capitalize. Until then – you’re imprisoned with an employer who’s jealous and with all manner of technology monitoring your every move.’

  ‘Still right.’

  ‘So this isn’t hello Yana, congratulations. This is the beginning of goodbye.’

  ‘It is.’ Yana now had a tear in her eye. Jared just sipped his decaff coffee. If he looked at her now he’d start to cry too.

  ‘I just … I’m amazed is what I am, Yana.’ He did look at her then; eyes welling up. ‘I mean… I know you didn’t do this for me – for Byron. You did it because this is your moment. Your big story you always dreamed about. But… even so. Few journalists would have the balls to touch something this big. And you did. Just when I thought I knew you and your small city, cocktail drinking ways you go and pull a stunt like this.’

  Yana raised an eyebrow and smiled. ‘Neat, huh?’

  ‘It’s more than neat. Unless you mean vodka neat. Then it’s deffo neat.’

  ‘My turn.’

  They did this from time to time. Rather than have a usual conversation, they filled in one another’s gaps. They were usually right about each other. It wasn’t to save time. It was more of a test, or a game. They knew that they knew each other well enough to intuit what was going on. So much so, that the conversation could reverse.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be wanting to know if this all means you’ll get your battery.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘And the answer of course is that I don’t know. But if you do – you’ll likely get all the other things: The access to the support system, the updates, the full ownership papers. The whole thing. There’s no reason now for Brobotics to not honor that, so…’

  ‘Thank you is not enough.’

  ‘Next… and it is next because you do think with your dick most of the time… you’ll be wanting to know if I really do intend to leave the city.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘C’mon, Jared. Do I have a choice?’

  ‘Guess not.’

  Things fell stiffly silent for a moment. A moment became a long moment, which was unusual for them. Emotional and at a loss, they both agreed to keep each other updated using anonymization browsers. As to physical meetings, who knew when the next one would be.

  On reaching home, Jared poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen and headed up to bed with Artie. He was beat. Emotionally drained. Happy. Sad. Expectant. Impatient. Right now all he could think about was losing a friend. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but ask himself how long it would be before Byron’s battery arrived - if it ever did.

  Artie knew her routine and trotted to the bedroom to find her basket. Jared, on the other hand, hesitated at his bedroom door. He turned and walked down the upper hallway to the guest room. He opened it and peered inside. Byron was, of course, exactly where he’d been the last time Jared had checked (strangely over a week ago). Still wearing the site uniform Jared had found him discarded in. Still just looking calm like a man of action ready to leap and rumble.

  Jared sat on the edge of the guest bed beside him, milk in hand.

  ‘I don’t know, Byron. My best friend has just done something truly incredible. It means I probably get to meet you; and it means I probably loose her. Are you worth that?’

  He swigged his glass and looked over to Byron’s face. He put a hand on his unmoving stomach. ‘I hope you are. ‘Cause you probably have no idea you’ve stirred up international security and kind of put a meaningful friendship at a loss.’

  He stayed a moment longer, considering whether to curl up and sleep at Byron’s side for the night. He hadn’t yet. The thought still weirded him out. Much as he longed for male companionship, he didn’t want to start having a fantasy “relationship” with the outward appearance of a man he was yet to meet.

  But he did want Byron fixed.

  Tasley

  Tasley had never hated anything much before; least of all an employer. Theirs was never to question why; Brobotic units were not supposed to have opinions or feelings, but nevertheless being sentient – they did. It was time to go to work, but all he could do was stare at the small monitor in his charging pod even though he’d switched it off minutes ago.

  If his makers really were in financial trouble that could mean no updates - nobody to turn to for repairs. All of his brothers were at even more existential risk than they’d been since first activation. Plus, how long would it take for Dartonia to be proven guilty of sabotage? What would it be like to work for them now if they were facing public hate and suspicion? Could they even continue to operate if they were under investigation?

  Whatever their involvements, they were a massive firm. They filed their taxes, employed their people. They weren’t about to go down instantly. Ones at Alex’s level probably hadn’t even known. Things had gone public, but they still needed to be battled in court. Perhaps there’d even be some kind of legitimate sell-off.

  He didn’t care. He just wanted to get out as soon as he could. Somewhere safe. But was it even worth it to try? If his battery was a dud too, how long did he have before he went the way of Byron?

  There was no way to find out the full scale of the damage regarding the batteries. But he resolved to keep his head down and be on his guard. Also, deep inside and with an intuition he also was not meant to really have, he sensed that Byron was still out there somewhere: even that he would find his friend one day.

  Tasley picked up his hard hat and opened the pod door. He joined the line of the other workers descending the steps and headed outside to the company pods that would shuttle them to the site. One sentient, one of the ones with what he and his closest friends called “the spark” was talking excitedly about the revelations with him on the car ride. He let the guy talk. He could listen, but he felt too sick to speak.

  Jared and…

  Two months passed. In that time, Jared had plenty of untraceable online conversations with Yana; but they hadn’t met again. The museum goodbye was looking to be the actual goodbye; a full circle from beginning to end. All he really knew was that those two months had taken their toll on her. Calls. Threats. Letters. A strange moment with a passing car and some guns. A noncommittal boss. Lots of “can’t say now” and “drop it” messages; and finally nothing. Silence.

  The public sentiment about the revelations also flitted this way and that. Some days there was anger about unaccountability or infringements of the ten amendments. Other days few seemed to care. Officials and senators were also wandering through a maze. What was legal? What was illegal? What needed keeping? What should be discarded to stay the public, and when? Who in the system today was bent?

  Jared could only assume Yana had lined up somewhere to go to hide – use some savings; maybe catch up with old college friends. Whatever. In his heart he knew she was still alive. He also knew, or felt, that she’d resurface in a new life. But it wouldn’t be here.

  Jared had clearly been visibly down. Today was Saturday, and on Thursday night he’d come home from Artie’s evening walk, gone to go to bed, checked in on Byron an
d found him wearing a party hat. Knowing that only one person could have put it there he lifted the hat and found a paper message underneath.

  “Hope you fix him soon ‘cause you’re all outta smiles. That’s why I put Mr here in a party mood. Alma x.”

  Is nothing sacred?

  It was one of those December Saturdays that were only fit for slippers, dressing gowns, jazz music, soup – or whiskey. But it was only lunchtime. Jared was in the dining room using a hologram console to check his email for something to do.

  “Don’t miss this sale event.”

  “Campaign against Pipeline.”

  “You have 35 new followers and 34 unfollowers. See what a great week it’s been.”

  “Only bright people will get this advice.”

  “Brobotics: Your receipt.”

  Jared’s heart skipped a beat. Why were Brobotics sending him a receipt? Could this be it? He didn’t want to believe it in order to save on disappointment. But despite himself here he was already hoping. He opened the message.

  ‘To: Jared Thomas

  From: Construcsapli

  Subject: Your receipt

  Dear Mr Thomas,

  Thank you for purchasing Type D unit “Byron” from Construcsapli recently. We understand you have run into some technical difficulty with the unit, for which we can only apologize.

  The replacement battery is from our new supplier. It is included in signed mail to you and should be with you in 3 working days. In the mean time please find attached your registration details and please don’t hesitate to contact us if you need any further assistance.

  Construsapli

  Attachment 1: How to register your Construcsapli unit

  Attachment 2: Warranty

  Attachment 3: License

  Attachment 4: Terms and Conditions, Manual’

  Three days. Fuck. Fuck!