Artificial Absolutes (Jane Colt Book 1) Page 24

  Hooooly shit.

  The Seer had done the impossible: He’d traced one of No Name’s actions.

  Riley couldn’t wipe the dumbfounded expression off his face. “I guess it takes one to know one.”

  Devin knit his eyebrows. “What did you find?”

  Right, not everyone reads computer-speak. “You know how No Name’s been around for ages but was really quiet back in the day? Their first known hack was about ten years ago, when they stopped one of the Collective’s attempts to release a bunch of confidential BD Tech info.”

  “What about it?”

  “The Seer traced that hack. It originated right here on Fragan. Dude, you’re right. Kron’s gotta be with No Name.”

  Riley collapsed against the wall behind him, wondering how he could have missed something so epic. He felt stupid.

  Maybe he should aim that awesome security hack planned for Quasar at his own company instead. Man, I always knew Kron was evil, but not actually… evil. “I work for the freakin’ devil. I’ve gotta quit. I’ve gotta get outta here.”

  Devin’s expression darkened. “Not yet. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to see him.”

  Chapter 14

  So Obvious

  Dr. Revelin Kron masterminded all things programmed at BD Tech: the new-fangled robots, the advanced programs, and then some. With his pale face, cropped gray hair, and weak chin, he didn’t look as important as the sleek businessmen at the corporate headquarters on Kydera Major, but without his brains, they wouldn’t have anything to sell. All the key work happened under his watch. Virtu-games were written, the ships were programmed—everything important happened on Fragan. That was why corporate let him get away with just about anything and gave him pretty much everything he asked for.

  Like his office. He’d wanted it circular, so they’d built it special. He stretched, leaning away from his crescent-shaped desk. He almost never left his large chair because his awkward, round-shouldered build made him look as if he perpetually slouched when standing.

  Kron swiped his monitor, which surrounded him in a semicircle, and opened a file on the entity known as No Name. When he wasn’t driving his underlings, he spent most of his time keeping an eye on that thing. He’d tracked its activities over the years, gleefully watching it grow into the monstrosity it had become.

  Upon realizing what it was capable of, Kron had attempted to stop it before changing his mind. Shame to end something so brilliant. However, it remained a danger to him, so to keep it in check, he’d alerted the IC’s cyberpolice to its presence.

  That had been a risky move. If the cyberpolice dug in the wrong direction, they could discover Kron’s involvement with the “unidentified cybercriminal.” Kron pulled up the most recent reports they’d sent him. Their incompetence seemed to keep them from figuring out what No Name really was, let alone what had gone down ten years before.

  “Unidentified cybercriminal may have attacked a float near Travan.”

  “Unidentified cybercriminal is believed to have been involved with the bombings on Viate-5.”

  “Unidentified cybercriminal appears to be destroying information concerning artificial intelligence.”

  Of course it is! If anyone else found out…

  Kron wished he could anonymously data transfer information from his brain and upload it into the heads of the cyberpolice. He couldn’t tell the cretins what he knew directly. No, that would only get him in trouble!

  He skimmed some more reports. They all told him the same thing: We have no idea what’s going on.

  How? It’s so obvious!

  Kron checked a security monitor on one of the side screens. People called him paranoid because of all his cyber shields, but if they knew…

  An error, scarcely perceptible, easy to miss for the average person. Before he had a chance to take a closer look, the door flew open.

  A dark-haired young man stormed in, carrying a laser gun. “Game’s up, Kron. Time to come clean.”

  “Devin!” A geeky little maintenance worker ran in after him. “This was not the plan! I said we’d get answers from the computers, not—”

  “Sorry, Riley. This seemed more direct.”

  I’ve seen that maniac somewhere… More annoyed than afraid, Kron held up his hands with a sneer. “You want the company’s secrets? Take them. Take the whole damn computer if you think it’ll do you any good.”

  Devin aimed the gun at Kron’s face. “I don’t care about the company, Mastermind.”

  How the devil does he know about that? No one knows about that! Kron feigned confusion. “Mastermind?”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit.” Devin’s gaze bored into Kron’s. “Where’s Sarah? What have you done with her?”

  Kron frowned, confused for real. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Devin reached into his pocket, pulled out a slate, and tossed it to Kron. “Open it.”

  Kron tentatively unfolded the slate.

  Oooooh shit.

  The screen displayed a list of names and photos. Kron recognized it. How did this deranged whacko get that? He couldn’t know. Inconceivable. Kron was the only one who could possibly know. He snickered. “You’re out of your damn mind! Do you hear me? You’re completely nuts. I have no idea who these people are!”

  Devin’s expression didn’t change. “Riley, I think you should go now.”

  “Uh… Okay.” Riley sounded nervous. “But don’t forget—”

  “I know.”

  Riley left and shut the door behind him. Kron looked up at the internal defense guns. Where the devil is my security team?

  Devin followed his gaze. “Don’t bother. Your entire security system’s been shut down. No one’s coming to rescue you, so if you want to live, I suggest you tell me what I want to know.”

  “Then obviously, you won’t kill me. There’s stuff in here,” —Kron pointed at his head— “that you’ll never find if you use that.” He pointed at the gun.

  “Is it really worth dying for?”

  Kron shook his head. “No, no. No, it’s not. I like to think I’m an accommodating guy. So, what is it that you want?”

  “Tell me where Sarah is.”

  “Who?”

  “And while you’re at it, tell me why the hell you’re doing all this!”

  “Doing what?”

  Devin glowered.

  Yikes. Better play nice. Kron nodded rapidly. “Okay, okay. So you know I’m Mastermind. I admit it: I was the guy messing around with all those crime bosses twenty years back. But I quit! It wasn’t worth all that trouble for a hobby anymore!”

  “Stop.” Devin’s voice was dangerously soft. “No Name originated right here and I want to know what you’ve done with Sarah.”

  Kron gestured impatiently. “For the last time, who’s Sarah?”

  “Sarah DeHaven.”

  “The singer?” Kron realized where he’d seen Devin before. “Hey, you’re the guy from the news! The one who shot his bigwig father! Ooooo… I remember now. You’re Sarah’s fiancé! Damn, you are one lucky sonuvabitch! Every guy in the galaxy wants her.”

  “I won’t ask again.”

  Kron nodded. “Okay, okay. So you think I’m No Name. Ease up! I’ll tell you everything! I will!” Obviously, he wasn’t going to tell the lunatic everything, but when a madman on the rampage had a gun pointed at your face, you did what you could to please him.

  Even if Devin did find, well, everything, he couldn’t do anything about it. No one would believe a fugitive.

  With a flick of his hand, Kron beckoned. “Come on down. I have something to show you.”

  Devin kept his gun aimed at Kron as he walked around the monitors.

  Kron jerked his thumb at the cyberpolice reports. “L
ook! No Name’s been scaring me too! Why do you think I quit being Mastermind? I was the one who sent the cyberpolice after it, so obviously, I’m not No Name.”

  He swiped the monitor, flipping through the reports to prove how long he’d tracked the entity. He slipped his other hand under the table, pressed a hidden security button, and glanced at the security monitor. Strange. The alarm had already been tripped—about ten thousand times. So had all other alarms in the building.

  Kron realized what that glitch had been.

  The most inane cries for help inundated the system. Emergencies from every corner of the facility bombarded the system with messages like “Oh, no! I’m wearing colors!” and “Oh, help! I have an opinion!” Kron recognized the Gag Warriors’ handiwork.

  He tensed. Shit. I thought they were targeting Quasar…

  “Don’t try that again.” Devin’s gaze was fixed on him. He must have seen the attempt to call security.

  Kron nervously put his hands up. “Sorry. But as you can see—” he pointed to himself— “not No Name.”

  “Then who is?”

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  Devin pressed the gun into Kron’s temple.

  “Okay, okay!” Kron said quickly. “Believe me, if I knew where this No Name was, I would’ve found it and gotten rid of it by now! But I’ve been tracking it, much better than the cyberpolice! And hey, you want Sarah DeHaven? I can give you Sarah DeHaven!” The sooner I give him what he wants, the sooner he’ll leave.

  Devin lowered the gun. Kron turned to his monitor and typed at top speed. Why does he need me to find her? It’s not as if she’s missing.

  He glanced at the security monitor again. The shields he’d put in place… but the Gag Warriors couldn’t have been that thorough. Even if they took out the whole company, his custom ones couldn’t be breached by…

  Kron brought up a real-time video from a security camera in a Kydera City apartment building, which Sarah had just entered. He pointed. “She’s right here!”

  Devin raised the gun. “I want the real Sarah.”

  “What do you mean? This is Sarah DeHaven!”

  “She’s an AI, and you know it.”

  “How did you know that?” Kron realized what Devin meant by “real” and laughed. “Ooh, so you think she’s a person who got replaced by an AI! Sorry to burst your bubble, but this is the only Sarah DeHaven there is!”

  Devin’s face was still. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not! Why the devil would anyone replace people with robot copies? I mean, come on!”

  Devin’s expression remained unreadable, but something about him scared Kron into solemnity. “Okay, okay. Like I said, I’ve tracked this No Name business for years. I don’t know how you found out about the AIs, but I’ve known about them for a while now, and they’re not replacing people. Hey, look, I can prove it!”

  Kron typed a few commands. A folder, in which he’d stored everything he knew about the AIs, occupied the monitor. He opened the file for Sarah DeHaven. Several documents appeared side by side.

  He waved at them. “Everything about her life before a year ago is fake! It’s so obvious once you look into it! That No Name’s put documentation in all the right places so people wouldn’t suspect anything, but”—he couldn’t help snickering—“you’re engaged to a one-year-old!”

  Saying it aloud made it funnier. Kron threw his head back and guffawed.

  It can’t be true. Sarah, his Sarah, the one he’d fallen for—she must have been real.

  Devin shoved the gun into the back of Kron’s head. “The truth. Now.”

  “I just gave it to you!” Nasty mirth spread across Kron’s odd-looking face. “She’s not the only one! They’ve all been… How do I put it? Inserted into strategic places. But good for you, getting to date that! She’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Wish I had a toy like her!”

  Devin shook his head. “People are being replaced. They kidnapped a student a few days ago. An intercepted transmission said he was ‘slated for replacement.’”

  Kron’s grin faded. “That’s new. Hey, I don’t know about everything No Name does. I’m a little behind with the tracking, so maybe it’s started something I haven’t seen before. But I’m telling you, with all these AIs,” he jerked a thumb at the list of actives, “what you see is what you get. There’s only one Sarah DeHaven, and she’s right there.” He nodded at the security footage from Kydera City. “So now you know. You can stop worrying about some other version of her needing rescuing and go marry your robot love doll!”

  Kron guffawed again.

  It was the ugliest sound Devin knew, and it took all his self-control not to pull the trigger and be done with the horrible man. “I don’t believe you.”

  Kron’s round blue eyes glinted with malicious amusement. “You want more proof? Look what I’ve got here!”

  He scrolled down the folder on the monitor and pressed a deep blue icon. A hologram of Sarah from the neck up appeared before him. Voyeuristic stills of various women printed across the monitor.

  Kron selected one of the pictures, which filled the screen with a video of a curly-haired young woman speaking. The camera was placed behind the shoulder of the man she flirted with, who asked why she’d approached him.

  “I don’t know,” the young woman said. “It’s like something was telling me that I should get to know you.”

  Kron tapped the monitor, and the video stopped.

  Devin suppressed a shudder. He found something eerily familiar about not only the woman’s words, but her expressions—the nuances in her voice, the subtleties in her eyes.

  The hologram of Sarah came to life.

  “I don’t know.” She spoke with the same lilt. “It’s like something was telling me that I should get to know you.”

  The image froze again.

  It’s not possible.

  Kron looked up at Devin. “See? It’s so obvious! Want more?”

  He swiped at the video to fast-forward and played another section. The same young woman confessed the reason she’d agreed to go out with the man. Her career-driven life left her craving any kind of human connection outside her industry, and so she had chosen to take a chance on him.

  Kron stopped the video again. The hologram of Sarah repeated the woman’s words, words Devin recalled all too well. He held every muscle still to keep from betraying the chaos in his head.

  Kron seemed to take his silence for an invitation for even more. He played a second video.

  A young woman with an auburn braid placed her hand on the cheek of a narrow-faced man. “Come on, baby. Don’t let your father bother you. He loves you, Arthur. He wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t.”

  The hologram of Sarah repeated her words, “Come on, baby. Don’t let your father bother you. He loves you, Arthur. He wouldn’t care if he didn’t.”

  The same dynamics in her words. The same shades of motion in her face.

  It’s… not possible.

  Kron seemed downright eager to show him the next one: the auburn-haired woman with a hand on the man’s arm as she described life’s wondrous blessings. “Remember that, and you’ll realize that you’re already in the haven you seek. This is paradise.”

  The same optimistic expression lit Sarah’s face. “Remember that, and you’ll realize that you’re already in the haven you seek. This is paradise.”

  It looked so natural.

  Kron’s face twitched with delight as he scrambled to show yet another video. Each move he made chipped at Devin’s self-control.

  On the monitor, a young woman with long, dark hair approached a reception screen. “Anya Nejem.” Her voice was rich and beautiful—and familiar. “I have a meeting with Pulsar-9 Models at ten.”

  “Sarah DeHaven,” the hologram ech
oed. “I have a meeting with Pulsar-9 Models at ten.”

  That was the first time Devin had heard her voice. The words differed, but the tone, the musical cadence it carried—he could never forget the way it had captivated him.

  “It’s not possible.” Devin whispered the words repeating in his head. “She… she’s a singer. Music… It’s all about…”

  Kron huffed with impatience. “About what? Soul? What we perceive as soul is a bunch of teeny-tiny physical movements! Facial tics! Voice quivers! I’ll admit, these things are really, really hard to fake. What do you think this program is? A test. So Pa— so No Name could make sure Sarah’s movements and voice were believable before sticking them in the android body, which, I’m sure, took long enough to make.

  “Hey, hey, check this one out! This one’s my favorite!”

  Devin didn’t react. He didn’t know how to react in a way that wouldn’t involve Kron’s brains splattering across the monitor.

  Kron selected a video of the same dark-haired woman. Anya stood by a lake with a dewy expression and held hands with a man whose back was to the camera.

  She smiled demurely. “I love you.”

  Devin’s face went cold. He knew that smile.

  The hologram of Sarah warmed into the same demure smile, the one he loved so much. “I love you.”

  She spoke with the same dewy expression, one that had once brought him joy, wonder, hope. Not anymore. Just—pain.

  Kron placed his hands behind his head. “What we have here are select files No Name calculated would be most useful. Most of her programmed actions are a mishmash of various expected human responses. What she does is draw upon these responses after weighing competing variables. She adapts them to customize her reaction, creating the illusion of emotion. People anthropomorphize anything that looks convincing. But she’s a philosophical zombie—all smiles and pretty words on the outside but nothing on the inside!”