Chimera

Eighteen

The lab datum has been compromised, Derec, " Thales announced.

Derec looked up from the screen and blinked. "What?"

"The lab datum has been compromised," the RI repeated. "I have detected nine gates placed at various locations within the system that are diverting information to an external source. "

"What about you?"

"I have already detected and blocked an attempt to establish a gate in the immediate array. Judging from the other gates, this will not be a problem; they are sophisticated but limited. However, the longer I block implementation, the more likely other measures will be taken. "

"In other words, they're not just giving up and going away."

"Essentially, yes."

Derec went to the end of the blind and looked across the lab. Only one tech was on duty, this late in the third shift. Derec returned to his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had been at it since arriving, nearly eighteen hours now. The excavation was proceeding more slowly than he had expected due to a series of defensive modifications someone had added to the DW-12. It took Rana several hours to tease through them with Thales' help. Once they understood that bypassing them would not corrupt the matrix any further, everything went smoothly, but making sure ate up a lot of time.

"How soon?" Derec asked.

"Regarding what?"

"The excavation. When do we start getting useful data?"

"I have isolated the constellation of memory nodes we need, and I am beginning a chronological assignment. Another hour."

"I want your findings copied directly to Ariel's datum."

"That precaution is already in place."

"Are you able to trace the gates to their external source?"

"The risk of detection is high. I suggest completing the task at hand first before attempting any further action. "

Derec reached for the cup of cold coffee on the workbench. He needed sleep. He had sent Rana to her apartment hours ago.

He felt the passing of time acutely. Ariel had not commed in over five hours. Sipha Palen estimated she could keep the deaths out of the news nets for another day, two days at most, before someone figured out that she was hiding something. Or-and Derec thought this more likely-someone who already knew would sell the information. In either case, this needed to be done quickly.

"I would like to talk to you about another matter, Derec," Thales said.

"Hm? What, Thales?"

"I have taken advantage of the access here to larger memory buffers to set up my examination of Bogard's positronic matrix. I have run six attempts at reestablishing a functional template. "

I forgot all about that, Derec thought uneasily. "I didn't know you'd done that."

"It has not interfered with the performance of any other task," Thales said. "As we do not know if another opportunity may occur, I thought it best to use this one."

"That's fine, Thales. Um…six attempts? I gather none of them have been successful?"

"In achieving a stable matrix, no. However, I believe I have achieved something positive. I now know that we cannot do more in simulation. The convolutions in the error log indicate the presence of a reifying condition. "

"I'm not sure I understand. "

"Basically, there is a command error which repeatedly instructs the matrix to disassemble at the same point. I could not be sure of this before because I was forced to continually reconfigure the parameters to accommodate the lack of memory. Now that this is no longer a problem, I see that the breakdown occurs at the same point each time."

Derec leaned forward, curiosity cutting through weariness. "Can you identify that point?"

"That is the difficulty. It seems to be in the checksum routine that oversees the data interface with the physical plant."

"Seems to be?"

"It is possible the error precedes that point, which is why I am unwilling to be more confident. But in each case the breakdown occurs at the place where the program attempts to command the actual body. There is no body, of course, and I am studying the options to construct one in simulation, but I am not convinced this can be solved that way. I am of the opinion that the error is tied to the violation that caused the initial collapse. It may be that what I am seeing is not an error at all but an irreconcilable dilemma. In either case, the error effectively orders a new collapse each time. Available memory is not the problem. The matrix itself is self-destructive. "

"That doesn't make any sense, Thales. That would suggest intent on some level. There isn't enough coherence for that to be the case."

"Under normal circumstances, I would agree with that assessment. However, Bogard was unusual in several respects and its termination was singularly traumatic."

"All right. The next question, obviously, is what do you propose we do about it?"

"It is possible that the error can be resolved by loading a partially reestablished matrix into a blank positronic brain and tracing the final connections through to see if the error persists."

"Treat it like a hardware problem, you mean. "

"Essentially, Derec."

Derec smiled. "And where do you propose we obtain a blank positronic brain?"

"We have one at hand-after I have completed my excavation."

Derec looked at the DW-12 lying on the table, cables snaking from it, connecting it to the board Thales was using.

"It's not at all what Bogard would be used to," he said. "That assumes we're allowed to use it at all."

"If I may point out the obvious, the owner is no longer a matter of concern."

"Heirs, Thales. "

"I have considered that. Do you really think Rega Looms will want it?"

Derec laughed dryly. "No, I don't imagine so. But Sipha Palen has authority. It's station security property."

"With all due respect, Derec, Chief Palen has procured the robot under false pretext. She has filed no official records that it even exists on Kopernik. Effectively, the robot occupies a legal void. It belongs technically to no one. I believe my position is defensible in Terran court."

"It may be, but…" Derec sighed. His brief spurt of energy was ebbing. He needed sleep. "I can't make this decision now, Thales. We have other matters to resolve first."

"Would you object if I created an implementation program in the event that we do make use of the robot?"

"No, of course not. Right now, though, we need that excavation."

"It will be completed in fifty-two minutes."

"Good, good." He regarded the screens before him speculatively. Somewhere in all that machinery was a consciousness. It surprised him sometimes how easily he disregarded the inorganic nature of positronic entities. "Thales, why are you so interested in Bogard?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why."

"Bogard is a problem you set me to solve."

"True, but-never mind now. Thales, I may doze off sitting here. If anything happens that I need to know about, wake me."

"Of course, Derec."

He closed his eyes. He did not fall immediately to sleep, though. He could not shake the feeling-tenuous, barely identifiable-that Thales had just evaded answering his question.

"The question of will in a positronic matrix is and may remain one of the unsolved-and unsolvable-mysteries about these minds we have created. We built them to serve us and in that matter they have no choice. But we then gave them an imperative to serve not our commands but our morality. To assume this makes them thrall to human will to exclusion of their own may be an error. "

Who said that? Derec fished through his memory until he found it. Ariel had said that, in her graduate thesis from the Calvin Institute.

Something to that…

A constant question in positronics-one most positronic specialists toyed with but never wanted to discuss-concerned the hardware: How much of a robot's "personality" depended on the actual mechanism, and how much on what was called "accrued experiential associations"? The easy answer-always-was that a positronic brain was entirely a matter of physical linkages and connections, tied directly to its sensory apparatus-the "real world" model that allowed them to make deterministic decisions based on the Three Law parameters encoded into the pathways.

But that begged the question; it did not address the problem of Mind. Derec had come up against it with Bogard and now with Thales-why, he wondered, could Thales not simply construct a matrix very much like Bogard's? Evidently, Thales could not. Bogard's physical modifications had been an integral part of its consciousness. Thales' suggestion that the entire matrix be reinserted in a blank brain reinforced the obvious: that a robot was inextricably mechanistic, even though it demonstrated consciousness very similar to a human.

How many humans willingly admitted that they were as much meat as mind?

Derec yawned, and sparks danced at the edge of his vision. Too much, too deep. He waited for sleep. But his mind writhed with questions. "Mr. Avery."

Derec opened one eye and looked up at Hofton. "Mmm?"

"We have a problem." Hofton nodded toward the lab.

Derec stood slowly. A huddle of people crowded at the entrance. He recognized Palen, Leri, and Polifos, all apparently on one side of an argument, facing four Terrans-two men, two women-whose clothes-neatly-cut, unadorned, and severe-suggested authority. They spoke in low, terse tones that even without knowing the subject made Derec apprehensive.

"Thales, how far along are we with the excavation?"

"I require a few more minutes, Derec."

"Who are they, Hofton?"

"TBI," Hofton said. "Leri, to his credit, is fending them off with implied threats of 'political repercussions' and 'violation of sovereignty; but they aren't really backing down. They want the robot. My sense is that they intend to take it regardless of the consequences. "

Derec glanced at the DW-12. "Why would they want a robot?"

"Not a robot-that robot. They know exactly where it came from and what it is."

"Thales, those leaks-"

"It is possible they were TBI monitors," Thales said. "I did not trace them for the reasons we discussed. "

Derec studied the group. "Palen looks upset."

"I would be, too. Evidently her authority is being challenged. I suspect she'll lose, but she may be able to delay any immediate action. "

"It may be a moot point, anyway." He leaned over the console. "Thales, complete the excavation, copy all material to Ariel's office, then start tracing those monitors. Be careful not to reveal your presence as more than a security trace."

"Yes, Derec."

Derec smoothed his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. Hofton watched him speculatively.

"Shall we?" Derec gestured toward the confrontation. "Your lead, sir."

Derec approached, Hofton a pace behind. Polifos noticed him first and tapped Ambassador Leri's arm. The discussion died immediately with everyone looking at Derec.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help noticing, " Derec said. "TBI?"

One agent nodded slowly. "You are…?"

"Derec Avery. I gather you've come about the matter of the robot?"

Palen glared at him, outraged. The TBI agents frowned uncertainly.

"You have in your possession-" the first agent began.

"Pardon me," Derec interrupted, "you are…?"

"Agent Harwol."

"Pleased to meet you. And these others?"

Harwol waved a hand in the direction of his male partner, then each of the women. "Um…Agent Gent, Agent Jallimolan, Agent Cranert…"

"Pleased." Derec gestured toward Hofton. "This is Liaison Officer Hofton of the Auroran Embassy, D.C."

Awkward nods passed around the group. Derec noticed that Polifos looked baffled, but Leri was suppressing a smile.

"Now," Derec continued, "I'm the positronic specialist in charge of examining that robot. I have authority from Ambassador Sen Setaris to do so. It's my understanding that diplomatic considerations require that you have a proper warrant, countersigned by Ambassador Setaris, before I can turn any of our property over to you. "

Agent Harwol made a chopping motion with his hand. "Not in matters concerning the death of TBI or other Terran police personnel. We have an overriding interest in that robot, which we'll be happy to take up at a later date in court with Ambassador Setaris. But right now we insist that you turn over the robot in question."

"For what purpose?"

Agent Harwol frowned.

"What do you intend to do with it, Agent Harwol? It's a collapsed positronic robot. Basically, so much scrap as it is. What do you propose to do with it?"

"That's not germane to this situation-"

"But it might be. You see, if you intend to turn it over to your own specialists for examination, then we may be able to save you time. "

Harwol exchanged looks with his fellow agents.

"What do you propose?" he asked.

"We're already doing the only examination that might produce results. I'm sure that sharing our data with you wouldn't be out of the question. Ambassador Leri?"

"Well, under the circumstances, it would be unusual," Leri replied. "I'd have to vett it through Ambassador Setaris, of course, but I don't see a significant problem. Cooperation with Terran authority is always preferable to confrontation."

Chief Palen no longer seemed angry, but Derec felt uneasy under her gaze.

"We'll have to post an agent with the robot," Harwol said.

"That's out of the question-" Polifos began.

Leri jabbed his elbow into Polifos's ribs. "In company with one of our own security officers," he said, "I don't see a problem with that."

Harwol looked miserable. Derec guessed that his orders had been vague but succinct. He was ill-prepared to negotiate, and he knew his presence in Auroran embassy precincts was questionable at best.

"We require full disclosure," he said.

"We would probably require your help in any case," Hofton said. "I am curious, though. You said in the case of a death of a Terran agent. What Terran agent?"

Harwol clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head.

Derec stared at him. "You had agents in that group of baleys."

Harwol met his stare stoically. Finally, though, he nodded.

"Shit," Palen hissed.

"Well," Hofton said, "that changes a few things."

Derec stepped up to Palen. "Maybe you should show us the crime scene now. I think it's time we all see for ourselves." Derec gazed up at the cargo bin. Till now, he had only seen it on a screen. Small and manipulable on his desktop, it lacked any impact. Here, though, it disturbed him. It was both larger and smaller than he had expected.

People were going to travel to another star system in this…?

Lights shone within the container. Folding tables held portable datums, but no one paid any attention to them. Derec looked at the office where Palen and Harwol talked with Leri and Hofton. Derec feared a jurisdictional fight, the worst kind of battle. Hofton, at least, was capable of steering the situation past that-if he was allowed to.

Derec wandered to the row of datums, keeping watch out of the comer of his eyes for any move from the armed officers spaced around the bay to stop him. He occupied a fuzzy zone in the hierarchy, so the odds were even that he could do nearly anything he wanted.

Most of the screens showed blank. Two contained schematics of the interior of the bin. A third showed a chemical analysis of some kind. To Derec, it looked like a crystalline structure, but he could not identify it. He stepped closer to one of the schematics.

Cages supported acceleration couches arrayed around the inside surface of the bin. A very simple design, easily modified, completely modular. The rebreather unit sat bolted to what was now the floor but in freefall would be just another bulkhead.

Fifty-three couches.

How many bodies?

Fifty-two. Logically, the empty couch would have held the murderer.

Who got out how, exactly? Derec wondered.

The only evidence of escape was the crack in the hull in which Nyom Looms' body had caught. But that hole was far too small for anyone to slip through.

So that meant the killer did everything before lift-off and remained on Earth.

That did not follow, either. What would have prevented the robot from opening the hatch and saving the baleys by just admitting fresh air? No, the only time the poison would have been effective-and the robot ineffective-would have been in freefall, in vacuum.

Therefore, the killer was in the container and committed the murders en route to Kopernik.

The crack let out the atmosphere, forcing the baleys to stay on the rebreather, which eventually poisoned them. The robot had attempted to intervene-hence the blood and material in its hands-and failed. It would have been forced to do what? Whatever it could. It was found trying to shut off the rebreather.

Which would have meant suffocation for the baleys.

Either way, they would be dead.

So one of the bodies removed from the bin had to be the killer. Easy enough to check, just find one with tom clothes.

But how could the DW-12 attack a human?

And what about that empty couch? Derec assumed they would have known how many passengers, so what good would one extra couch be unless it was for someone who intended to get out before discovery?

Or for someone who never showed…

He crossed the bay to the cargo bin. No one stopped him as he entered.

Lights brightly illuminated the inside. He climbed up the scaffolding that supported the couches to the crack in the ceiling. The metal showed a clear curve where something had gouged it from the interior and pushed it out. Derec ran his hand over the surface and found a number of indentations on either side. A hand?

"Sir."

Derec looked at the entrance. A uniform stood there, sidearm out.

"I have to ask you to leave," she said. "You aren't supposed to be in here."

"Really?" Derec climbed down. "Why is that?"

"This is a crime scene, sir. "

He stepped past her. "It is, indeed. Thank you for pointing that out."

Derec entered the office-and walked straight into a full-blown argument between Palen and Harwol.

Harwol was fuming. "-what in hell you thought you were doing, but you overstepped you authority by a considerable margin!"

"This is my station, Harwol," Palen shot back. "It is my margin!"

"Excuse me," Derec said.

Everyone looked at him. Palen and Harwol both were breathing hard.

"I was wondering, " Derec continued, "if anyone had bothered to count the bodies."

"Of course we did, Avery," Palen snapped. "We counted them as we carried them out."

"Yes, but have you counted them since?"

Palen frowned at him, mouth open.

"I didn't think so," Derec said. "Maybe we should."