going to be a backlash against the UEA,” X said.
“Temporarily,” Fahrens said. “People will be understandably angry. After all, Brockway’s rampage was the worst single-android murder spree in history. The public is going to want answers. They’re going to lash out at the Council until we figure out who did this and bring them to justice.”
“No pressure,” Shortcut said, shaking his head. “Man, this is a tough mission, sir. I don’t know how we’ll ever crack this case. Whoever programmed Brockway’s black box knew what they were doing. They had to be an android engineer. At least we had Brockway’s black box to study. We’ve got nothing with this mystery android. It just doesn’t make any sense why she would leave one black box in and another out.”
“Unless she wanted to send a message,” X said. “Remember, Brockway’s black box appeared to be for show.”
“That mystery android must have been a hint at what she can really do.”
“If it’s even a she,” Fahrens said.
News reporters flashed onto multiple screens, reporting on the massacre. Talking pundits raged against the camera.
“This is exactly what our grandparents said fifty years ago,” one angry host said. “Androids can’t be trusted. The UEA has been negligent in their use of androids, and I recommend that we enact tougher legislation against them …”
Another host held up his hands. “I say we wipe ‘em all out, just like they did after the singularity.”
X studied the interface on the mystery android’s neck. Unless you looked carefully, it just looked like a neck tattoo. X ran his fingers along it. The circuits, under a microscope, were beautifully crafted and smooth, as if created by a master architect. This was someone who had mastered social robotics—the same type of architecture that comprised X and every other android in the UEA.
Fahrens grabbed his coat. “I’ve got a post-media meeting with the Council. Keep checking the data, Mr. Aaronheart.”
Shortcut shook his head. “I’ve done that six times, sir.”
The sliding door closed behind Fahrens, and Shortcut cursed. “I’m sick of this. We’re never going to get anywhere.”
“We’ve got to keep trying different angles, Shortcut,” X said.
“Not even you can detect a pattern. Don’t you think that’s problematic?”
X bent over and scanned a line of code. “We’re not checking hard enough.”
“Well, you can keep checking. I need a soda.”
He kicked a chair, sending it crashing into the wall just as the door opened. Brielle entered.
Shortcut flinched and started forward as the chair bounced to the ground at her feet. She looked at the chair, and then at Shortcut in surprise.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“Of course not!” Shortcut said. He motioned her in and smiled. He grabbed the chair and gestured for her to sit down. “What’s up, Brielle?”
X shook his head.
“Have you found anything on the attacker yet?” Brielle asked.
“No. This is one sophisticated individual. None of us engineers or androids can find anything. It’s really weird.”
Brielle looked around, her eyes scanning the room. “Shortcut, you really should let Lonnie clean this place. There are dust mites everywhere.”
“My sentiments exactly,” X said, not taking his eyes off the code.
Shortcut laughed nervously. He picked up a magazine and tossed it into the trash. He remembered the conversation with Frantz, and the room full of beautiful women … Naturally, the algorithm chip didn’t show him anything.
Brielle sat down with her hands in her lap and looked at Shortcut intensely.
“I came because the Council sent me.”
“Again?”
“They want a report from you and X. I’m recording this conversation, so anything you say or do will be monitored for national security purposes.”
“I’m sorry that we don’t have anything to report,” X said. He reached inside his chest and pulled out a memory chip,
“Temporarily,” Fahrens said. “People will be understandably angry. After all, Brockway’s rampage was the worst single-android murder spree in history. The public is going to want answers. They’re going to lash out at the Council until we figure out who did this and bring them to justice.”
“No pressure,” Shortcut said, shaking his head. “Man, this is a tough mission, sir. I don’t know how we’ll ever crack this case. Whoever programmed Brockway’s black box knew what they were doing. They had to be an android engineer. At least we had Brockway’s black box to study. We’ve got nothing with this mystery android. It just doesn’t make any sense why she would leave one black box in and another out.”
“Unless she wanted to send a message,” X said. “Remember, Brockway’s black box appeared to be for show.”
“That mystery android must have been a hint at what she can really do.”
“If it’s even a she,” Fahrens said.
News reporters flashed onto multiple screens, reporting on the massacre. Talking pundits raged against the camera.
“This is exactly what our grandparents said fifty years ago,” one angry host said. “Androids can’t be trusted. The UEA has been negligent in their use of androids, and I recommend that we enact tougher legislation against them …”
Another host held up his hands. “I say we wipe ‘em all out, just like they did after the singularity.”
X studied the interface on the mystery android’s neck. Unless you looked carefully, it just looked like a neck tattoo. X ran his fingers along it. The circuits, under a microscope, were beautifully crafted and smooth, as if created by a master architect. This was someone who had mastered social robotics—the same type of architecture that comprised X and every other android in the UEA.
Fahrens grabbed his coat. “I’ve got a post-media meeting with the Council. Keep checking the data, Mr. Aaronheart.”
Shortcut shook his head. “I’ve done that six times, sir.”
The sliding door closed behind Fahrens, and Shortcut cursed. “I’m sick of this. We’re never going to get anywhere.”
“We’ve got to keep trying different angles, Shortcut,” X said.
“Not even you can detect a pattern. Don’t you think that’s problematic?”
X bent over and scanned a line of code. “We’re not checking hard enough.”
“Well, you can keep checking. I need a soda.”
He kicked a chair, sending it crashing into the wall just as the door opened. Brielle entered.
Shortcut flinched and started forward as the chair bounced to the ground at her feet. She looked at the chair, and then at Shortcut in surprise.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“Of course not!” Shortcut said. He motioned her in and smiled. He grabbed the chair and gestured for her to sit down. “What’s up, Brielle?”
X shook his head.
“Have you found anything on the attacker yet?” Brielle asked.
“No. This is one sophisticated individual. None of us engineers or androids can find anything. It’s really weird.”
Brielle looked around, her eyes scanning the room. “Shortcut, you really should let Lonnie clean this place. There are dust mites everywhere.”
“My sentiments exactly,” X said, not taking his eyes off the code.
Shortcut laughed nervously. He picked up a magazine and tossed it into the trash. He remembered the conversation with Frantz, and the room full of beautiful women … Naturally, the algorithm chip didn’t show him anything.
Brielle sat down with her hands in her lap and looked at Shortcut intensely.
“I came because the Council sent me.”
“Again?”
“They want a report from you and X. I’m recording this conversation, so anything you say or do will be monitored for national security purposes.”
“I’m sorry that we don’t have anything to report,” X said. He reached inside his chest and pulled out a memory chip,
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