There wasn't enough pavement in the city for him
to drive off his mood. The streets were crowded with traffic but
Spider barely noticed. He tightened his grip on the wheel and
the wipers swished against the light drizzle. People moved
around him, in cars, on foot, swarming toward something.
He'd been in Miami too long. They had to know
where he was now and it wouldn't be long before someone came
after him. They had been hunting him for nearly a decade, since
the first testing of his disrupter. Spider had been lucky and
kept a step ahead but he feared that, this time, he'd been too
complacent. He drove, seeing every face, inspecting every
shadow, peering into every passing vehicle. Everything loomed,
threatened. He ran a hand into his jacket, feeling the familiar
worn grip of his old Beretta 9mm, comforted by its presence.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a woman with
black hair and wide eyes standing on the sidewalk. She had
stopped to light a cigarette. Her lighter flared and the
cigarette caught, a plume of smoke hung heavily in the damp air.
He watched in his mirror as she started walking again, pressing
her bag against her, moving too quickly. Spider saw the two men
behind her and knew immediately that they were tailing her. It
didn't surprise him to see the woman throw down her cigarette
and break into a run. For a brief moment, he admired the curve
of her hip, swaying as she ran, as rhythmically as the
windshield wipers.
The light in front of him glared an angry red and
Spider stopped the car, pressing the button to unlock the doors.
He watched her falter at the corner, her eyes searching for a
way out. Just before he could roll the window down, she flung
open his passenger door and threw herself inside. “Hang on.” He
couldn't help but smile as he slammed his foot down on the gas
pedal almost before his passenger had a chance to blink.
“Thank you.” She was trembling, her voice quiet
and frightened. She turned to him and he watched her features
change out of the corner of his eye. She was wary of him, like
everyone else. The shaved, heavily tattooed head always made
them step back.
“Don't thank me yet. They're still following.” He
glanced up into the rearview mirror. “See the gray sedan, three
cars back? Your men hopped in when you decided to hitch.”
“Of course they did.” She slumped down in the
seat. “I'm so sorry. I don't want you to get in trouble here.
Just stop and let me out. They'll let you go.”
“Why are they chasing you?”
“I have something they want.” She turned in her
seat to look out the back window. “They're too close. It's
useless. They'll catch us for sure.”
“No they won't.” He reached into his leather
jacket and pulled out a machine, the size of a cell phone. “Hold
on.”
“What is that?” Her eyes went wide with fear as
he slowed the car. “What do you think you're doing? We have to
keep going!”
“Trust me.” He slammed on the brakes and turned
off the car. He pressed a small red key and everything stopped.
The moment he glanced at her, Spider knew
something was wrong. His passenger sat frozen, whatever she'd
been about to say silenced. He cursed, panic knotting his gut as
he heard the breaking of glass behind him. One of the men in the
chasing car had busted out the window and started shooting at
them. He glanced at the number screen and the moment the counter
hit zero, he turned the key in the ignition, the car jerking
back to life. A bullet hit the trunk as he started the car. He
took off, chancing a quick glance behind him to see the man with
the gun climbing out of the broken window. He maneuvered easily
around dead vehicles and gawking pedestrians.
He sped through the streets, twisting and turning
through the alleys. Pressing a small button on the steering
wheel, he paused for a breath and gunned the machine through a
newly opened door that automatically began its quick descent the
moment the car had passed fully into the cavernous hold of the
rented storage unit. In the folds of relative safety, Spider
inspected his passenger. If the disrupter had shut her down,
that could only mean one thing. She was a machine. If it were
true, her construction was glorious.
Her skin was soft and smooth to the touch, a
thousand times more real than any cyberskin available on the
market, even in testing. Spider touched a length of hair. It
didn't feel synthetic or even dyed. The woman’s shape was
natural, imperfect but pleasing. Through her damp blouse, he
could tell that her breasts weren’t exactly even, the left just
a fraction larger but not so much as to be awkward. He’d never
have thought they were fakes. Never. Everything about her looked
real, smelled real, felt real. But, his disrupter had shut her
off.
A small nagging part of him told him to ditch the
girl and get out of town. But, his curiosity piqued, he couldn't
leave the machine. He'd spent his whole life creating and
tampering with machinery and he had never seen anything like
this. He doubted if he'd ever see anything like it again.
Spider climbed out of the car and went around to
the passenger side. He'd expected her to be quite heavy but
found she was relatively light. Her body mass barely exceeded
the expectations for a woman her size. He laid her gently in the
back of an old blue van parked next to his beat up Honda
Prelude. It was dirty with faded exterminator logos emblazoned
on the sides.
The second trek through the city was far more
sedate than the first had been but it was still a great relief
to see his warehouse. He had work to do. He had to figure out
how to turn the machine back on if only so she could explain
what had just happened.
The refurbished warehouse in the middle of an
industrial complex served a dual purpose. It was his workshop
and it was his home. There were a handful of people there who
worked with him or stopped in to hire him but he didn’t want to
share the girl. Not yet.
Spider pressed a small blue button on a black fob
hanging from his keys and the rusty gate down into the complex
slid aside just long enough for him to drive through before it
rattled shut behind him. He pressed a red button and one of the
uniform metal bay doors rolled up on its old rails. He pulled
the van slowly into the well-lit warehouse and heard the
familiar clangs and whines of hammers, torches, and pneumatic
drills. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them. If he didn’t, he’d
never allow them to enter his space. Spider had never been good
at sharing.
He parked the van and got out, looking around for
anyone who might see his passenger but the parking bay was
empty. Quickly, he made his way to the door and nearly ran into
the one person he knew without a doubt he could trust with such
a find.
“Trent. You gotta do me a favor.” Spider
whispered even though there was no one near enough to hear them.
“Get everyone out of here for today.”
“Really?” The young man stepped back, his
forehead furrowed, and his blue eyes full of questions. “You got
it. Give me ten.” Trent moved quickly to get everyone out of the
building.
Spider paced next to the passenger door, alternately checking
his watch and peering into the shadows for any sign of movement.
He'd come to embrace his paranoia after so many years on the
run. He kept to his two stride pacing for nearly fifteen minutes
before Trent finally returned.
“Okay, it's just us now. What's going on, man?”
“I don't know.” Spider eased the woman out of the
van, stiff and contorted, and carried her through the warehouse
to the office he’d converted to his bedroom. It wasn’t much,
just a bed and his clothes. He laid the woman down on his bed.
“Isn't she wonderful?”
“Dude! Are you completely fried? What are you
doing bringing a chick here? What the heck is wrong with her,
anyway?”
Trent's brow furrowed as he looked her
over.
“That's just it.” He grinned broadly. “She's not
a woman. She's a machine.”
“No way. That's just movies, man.” Trent's blue
eyes took in the woman lying before him.
Spider marveled at her again. Except for the fact
that her eyes were open, her body was still positioned as if she
were sitting, and her fingers seemed frozen in a curl, she
looked remarkably natural. Too real to be a machine. “The
disrupter shut her off. Find me a better explanation.”
“What have you gotten into this time?”
“I have no idea. Now, help me find out how to
turn her back on. There's got to be a key somewhere.” Spider ran
his hands over her head, feeling for anything strange. “Where
would you put it?”
“Let's see. If I were to have made something like
this, I know exactly where I'd have put the on switch.” Trent's
eyes lingered on the place where her legs met.
“Get your head out the gutter, Trent. Only you
would think of something like that.” Spider shook his head.
“Hey, I'm just your average guy.” He smiled
wickedly. “Maybe it's as simple as twisting a nipple.”
“Lay off it. Come on, help me out here.” Spider
opened the woman's mouth and inspected her teeth. “There's got
to be a control panel somewhere.” He glanced at Trent who was
removing the woman's shoes, running his fingers gingerly over
her feet. “If you find anything let me know.”
The two men ran their fingertips over the woman
in front of them, feeling for something indicative of a panel.
Wherever it was, it was well hidden. Spider was almost to the
conclusion that maybe
Trent had been right and her creator was a sick puppy
when the light bulb went off in his brain. The glint of fillings
had caught his eye when he inspected her teeth. It had been
years since dentists had stopped using silver metal in dental
work. “Trent.
Get me a pen or something.”
“Did you find it?”
“I might have but I'm not going to try it with my
fingers.” He took the long slim pen from Trent and pressed the
tip against the filling in her right, back molar. When nothing
happened, he pressed the tip to the left, back molar. Both men
jumped back away from the woman as her entire form twitched and
arched on the bed.
“I think you found it.” Trent watched wide-eyed
as the woman sat up on Spider's bed.
“Who are you?” Her eyes were wide and Spider
could have sworn he could sense fear in her, but he told himself
that was impossible.
“I'm the guy who saved your butt. Who the heck
are you?”
“Kora Walker.” She clutched her knees to her
chest, her eyes flipping between the two men hovering over her.
“You'll have to forgive him; Spider's manners
aren't the best. I'm Trent.” He extended his hand to her. “You
really don't have anything to worry about, he's harmless.”
“Right.” She snorted. “What did you do to me?”
“It's not my fault.” Spider sat on the edge of
the bed, secretly thrilled when she shifted away. So much
simulated emotion it was hard to believe she wasn't real. “I
didn't know the disrupter would shut you off. It doesn't destroy
anything or erase anything, it just turns everything off so that
the computers all have to reboot and reset before anything can
be turned back on.”
“That's why you turned off your car.” Her whisper
filled the room. “How did you find my switch?”
“Your silver fillings gave you away.”
“Oh.” She shook her head sadly. “That’s how I
figured it out too.”
“What do you mean, figured it out?” He stared at
her, unable to look away.
“I didn't know what I was until about two months
ago. I was in a weird accident, got an electrical shock that
caused some circuits to go haywire. Fortunately, it didn't shut
me off like your little box.”
“I really am sorry about that, Ms. Walker.”
“You might as well call me Kora.” She reached up
and pulled a clip out of her hair, letting the mass of black
waves down around her shoulders. “I've gotten you into a mess
haven't I?”
“Maybe a small one. I think you need to tell us
what's going on.” Spider glanced over at Trent. “Maybe we can
help.”
“I doubt it. After my accident, after I figured
out what I was, I started trying to find out more. It took me
almost a week to get into my own programming. When I saw what
I'd been made for, I panicked. I reprogrammed myself and I think
when I did, I set off some sort of alarm. They've been after me
ever since.”
“What were you programmed to do?” Trent leaned
against the wall, unable to look away.
“I was supposed to kill the President.” She
dropped her head onto her knees and closed her eyes tight.
“You would never have gotten close enough to
President Roberts.” Spider smiled again and took her hand in
his, amazed at the craftsmanship.
“I was already there, working in the White House.
I was a secretary for the President’s Deputy Chief of Staff. I
already had full access.” She snatched her hand back as if she
were afraid of him.
“Wow.” Trent whispered. “Do you know who made
you?”
“No. I only know that if they get me back, I'll
either be destroyed or reprogrammed. I don't want to be
destroyed but I will not kill the President. I don’t want to
kill anyone.”
“Well Kora, looks like you and I are in the same
boat.” Spider sighed.
“Excuse me?”
“On the run. You because of what you know, what
you are, and me because of what I created. You aren't safe
anywhere in this city now. And neither am I.” His face hardened.
“I'm so sorry. I bet you wish I'd picked a
different car.” She pursed her lips.
“If you had, you'd be with them right now,
wouldn't you?”
“Probably.” Kora nodded. “What do I do now?”
“We run. We've got to get out of here.”
“What? What do you mean, 'we'?”
“What happened today, it will be on the news,
probably with your picture and my car. That means the people who
are after me will be after you now, too. Same goes for me. The
only way we're going to get out of this is to stick together.
Maybe I can help you with your problems and get you far away
from mine.” He looked over at Trent. “What about you?”
“I have a family now Spider; I can't take the
risks you can. As it is, after we get you ready, I'm going home,
packing up and leaving town with Moira and the baby.”
“I can't blame you for that.” Spider looked
around the room he'd called home for almost six months, nearly a
record for him.
“You can't leave by road or air. They'll have
road blocks up and probably agents sitting in every airport in a
hundred miles.”
“Then how are we going to get away?” Kora tilted
her head to the side. Both men watched her with amazement, every
motion she made, every gesture, every facial contortion was
utterly, unimpeachably lifelike.
“By boat.” Spider began rummaging through the
room. “We can't go anywhere they would think to look for you so
we'll have to pick up a few things for you on the way.”
“Do you have my bag?”
“It's in the van.”
“Then I don't really need anything.”
“What's in the bag?” He stopped moving, wondering
why he hadn't bothered to check it in the first place. His
discovery had so awed him that he hadn’t checked for tracking
devices.
“A copy of my original programming and all of my
papers. I figure they’re forgeries but they might point to who
made them, who made me. I made the copy before I started
changing things, so I could prove it. If all else fails, I may
need to go to the White House and tell them everything.”
Trent shook his head. “They'll shut you down to
study you.”
“Let's hope it doesn't come to that.” Spider
moved mechanically, shoving things into a large black duffel
bag. “You'll need to change your clothes. I don't have anything
that will fit you so we'll have to improvise.” He laid a pair of
dark green pants on the bed along with a black sweatshirt and a
green bandanna. He took a large knife from his belt and cut
about six inches from each pant leg. “You'll need a belt.” He
reached into a drawer and pulled out a heavy canvas belt. “Get
dressed. I'll make the belt to size when you have it on.”
She sighed. “All right. Turn around.”
“Come on. I'm not twelve. I think I've seen a
woman without her shirt on.” She glared at him, her eyes
glinting. Spider wanted to get a better look at those eyes when
she trusted him enough to allow it.
“You just want to see if the rest of me is quite
so realistic, don't you?” She unbuttoned her blouse, her dark
eyes locked on Spider's face. To hide his thoughts, Spider
glanced over at Trent. He was watching Kora unabashedly, taking
in the whole of her as he would any other woman.
The pants were too big and, without a belt, they
would never stay up. Kora stood still as Spider threaded the
belt through the loops and pulled it tight, using his knife to
open a hole for the prong. “Much better. Put your hair under the
bandanna. We are going to have to fit in as much as possible and
colors will help.”
“You have a plan then?” She bent down to tie the
green cloth at the nape of her neck, under her long hair.
“We’re going to pick up supplies and get out of
here. Let’s go.” He picked up his bag. “Trent, can you get her
bag out of the car? I'll take the truck with me and pass it off
to Juan from there.”
He nodded solemnly at his friend. “You take care
of yourself man. Stay a few steps ahead and let me know every
once in a while that you're Okay. Moira will want to be sure.”
“Give her and the baby a hug for me. Could you
call the guys, fill them in? Tell them to come get their stuff
and find a new place?”
“Will do.” Trent paused for a moment. He looked
like he was going to say something more and decided against it,
turning on his heel and heading back to the van.
Spider took Kora by the hand and led her out of
the room and through the warehouse. As they passed a huge
workroom, Spider paused to grab his toolbox. The projects he was
working on, the modified surveillance equipment, the miniscule
infrared cameras, the disguised microphones, he left them all
where they lay, scattered amidst scraps of metal, wire, and
tools. Spider led Kora to a second bay, a smaller, closed in bay
that held nothing but an old truck. The rusted gray pickup had
seen better days, but it ran well enough. He helped her up into
the cab and tossed his bag into the back. Trent ran into the
bay, handed Kora her bag, said goodbye and disappeared into the
building. Spider waved and climbed into the driver’s seat.
When Spider had himself situated, he pressed the
red button and the garage door lifted. As they pulled out onto
the road, Kora jumped at the sound of a shrill beep. “What is
that?”
“Quiet.” He reached into his jacket and pulled
out a small square of plastic. Touching the small screen, he
smiled. “Just who we need. Hey, man. What can I do you for?” He
spoke into his jacket, smiling at Kora who was staring at him as
if he’d grown a second head.
“Dude. What are you doing right now?” A tinny,
masculine voice came from the jacket.
“Coming to see you.” Spider held a hand up,
quieting Kora before she could speak.
“What? Why?” The voice asked.
“Something came up and I’m going to have to leave
town.”
“So that crap downtown, that was you?” A trace of
a laugh floated through the air.
“It’s a long story, Juan. I’ve got company too.
She’ll need more than I will. Recruit your mother. Short, thin,
stacked. Got it?”
“Clothes, right?”
“Good man.”
“I’m on it. What’s your time?” The voice became
clipped and precise.
“Twenty minutes?”
“We’ll be ready.” There was a small click, a
moment of static, and then, silence.
Spider replaced the machine in an inside pocket
of his jacket. He saw the questions in her eyes. “I’m wired head
to toe, differently than you but wired just the same.” He
grinned at her as he pushed hard on the gas pedal and sent the
truck screaming forward. “If you’re going to run with me, you’ll
have to get used to it.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“You made that decision, not me. You hopped into
my car, remember?”
“But you didn’t have to help me, Spider.”
“No. I didn’t. Maybe I’ve got a soft spot for
short, stacked machines.” He smiled at her, a predatory grin.
“You’re really freaking funny.” She crossed her
arms and turned away from him.
“I know. It’s a gift.” There was no humor in his
voice. He turned a corner, chancing a glance at his passenger.
There was fear in her eyes and it amazed him. Everything about
her seemed so normal, so human.
“Can I ask you something?” Kora did not look at
him when she spoke.
“I can't guarantee you'll get an answer.”
“Is it true that most programmers have some sort
of signature?” she asked.
“Most, but not all.” His eyes fell to the bag she
clutched in her lap. “You have a copy of your original
programming, right?” She nodded, her fingers tightening on the
bag. “Later, when we're a good distance away, I'll take a look
and see if I can find anything. Your creator probably didn't
leave anything that could tie him to you. He wouldn't be that
stupid. I mean, look at you, there's no way he slipped up with a
tag.”
“But you assume my creator is male?”
“Yeah. That's a safe bet. Have you looked in a
mirror? You're every guy's dream. Especially for frankensteiners
and techheads. You were definitely created by a man.”
“Oh.” She fell silent for a moment and continued
in a whispered voice. “Wouldn't I remember the first time I woke
up?”
“Not necessarily. You were probably programmed
with a lifetime of memories. I'll look for that in your
programming, too. It's quite possible that your creator
programmed himself into your life in some way.” He eased the
truck into an empty parking lot nestled between a
graffiti-tagged brick tenement and a clean but cluttered bodega
with advertisements and posters plastering nearly every inch of
glass in the window. “You'll need to stay close to me now.”
“Sure.” She waited for him to open her door and
jumped down out of the truck. “What are we doing?”
“Getting some supplies.” He watched her light up
a cigarette. “Now that you know what you are, why do you smoke?”
“Because I need to, okay? It calms me down. It's
probably programmed in. I didn't get around to overhauling
everything, I just changed the important things.”
“Finish it while we walk.” He took her hand in
his. “Try and keep near me. Don't speak much. Don't make eye
contact. Just follow my lead. We don't want to draw attention to
you. These people know me but they don't like strangers.” She
lengthened her stride to keep up with him. They moved quickly
down the block and stopped in a doorway. “Pitch it.” He opened
the door and swung her into a little grocery store. Almost the
moment the bell chimed to announce their arrival; a short stocky
teenager rushed forward and locked the door behind them.
“Juan.” They clasped hands fondly. “This is Kora.”
“Ma'am.” He extended his hand in greeting and a
smile split his face. “I think I got most things ready. Any idea
how long you'll be gone?”
“No clue.” Spider shook his head sadly. “If I
were you, I'd go ahead and gut the warehouse and move on. Pass
the word around. If someone were to torch it, it would be no
great loss.”
“You got it boss.” The boy led them through the
neatly stocked aisles of canned goods and ethnic foods to a door
in the back. “Go on in. Give me the keys; I'll bring the truck
around.” Spider handed him the keys and led Kora through the
door into the back room.
“Juan is a good friend.” The back room overflowed
with boxes and crates. Spider moved easily, familiarly, through
the rows of cardboard stamped with Spanish and Chinese words. He
stopped about three feet from the back wall of the storage room
and grabbed Kora’s hand to stop her too. “Mama? You here?”
“Ai boy.” A throaty, feminine voice whispered
through a small speaker in the corner. “Let me see this girlie
girl you brought.” Spider spun Kora around quickly, ignoring her
resistance, her small squeal of protest. “Not bad. She looks
like she was made for you.” Spider laughed abruptly. “What?”
“Nothing, Mama. You gonna let us in?” He pulled
Kora next to him and held her still as the wall slid open.
“Are all the people you know so paranoid?” she
asked.
“Yes, and you should be too.” He squeezed her
hand lightly. Kora eyed the pretty woman sitting in front of
her. “That's Juan's mother.”
“What do I call her?” Kora whispered.
“Call me Mama, everybody does.” The woman smiled,
showing perfect white teeth that nearly glowed against the deep
red of her painted lips. Her figure was an enviable one for a
woman of any age, let alone a woman with three teenage boys.
Spider watched Kora inspect Mama and smiled. If
he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn there was a touch of
jealousy in her black eyes as she appraised Mama’s face and
shape.
“Now, you don't have a whole lot of time. José
and the boys will take care of harbor patrol so you can just
slip out. You make sure you drop me a line, let me know you're
alive.” Mama’s voice was thick with the melody of
Cuba.
“I will, Mama.” Spider reached out for her and
hugged her tight for a moment. “I didn’t get your microphones
finished.”
“When you settle, you just take your time and
ship them.” Mama smiled at him and then turned to Kora. She
picked up a green bag. “This is for you dear. It has clothes and
all that other girlie gear. There's nothing you'll need that I
didn't think of, I guarantee it.” Kora took the bag with a smile
and a thank you. “Grab that cooler there, Spider. It's got a few
days worth of fresh stuff and there are two boxes of canned and
mixes. I don't know how long you plan to be on the water.”
“We don't know either, Mama.” Spider picked up
the cooler as Juan walked through the door. “You go ahead and
grab one of those boxes, man.”
Juan picked up the larger box and Kora grabbed
the smaller one. The three of them walked back into the
stockroom and out the loading dock doors into the alley where
the truck was idling. They loaded everything into the back and
crammed themselves into the cab. They drove in silence to the
marina. As they pulled down toward the dock, they pointed out
the boat to Kora.
“It's a houseboat.” She looked at him, a look of
poorly disguised disgust on her face.
“She's not pretty but she's fast and reliable.”
He scratched his chin and eyed the thirty-eight foot mass of
cream colored aluminum and glass.
The three of them loaded up the boat quickly and
Kora disappeared into the cabin. “She's a looker, Spider. You
serious about her?” Juan raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“It's too soon to answer that. I'm hoping we can
stick together, at least for a little while. It'll be nice to
have company for once.”
“I'll bet.” He glanced at his watch. “You've got
twenty minutes to get prepped. The boat's ready. José will have
your distraction right on time, so don't you screw up.”
“If I do, she and I are both as good as dead.”
His eyes darted to the doorway she'd floated through. “There's a
lot going on here, man. Whatever you do, don't ever tell anyone
you know me. Anyone comes asking; I don't exist. Don't forget to
wipe out the warehouse.”
“I'll take care of everything here. Maybe make a
chunk on the scrap at least.”
“Hope you do. Considering all you've done for me,
I wish I could give you more.”
“Heck no. That'd be like stealing from a
brother.” A somber moment passed before they shared a brief
goodbye and Juan went back to the truck.
Spider leaned into the cabin and found Kora
curled up in a chair. “You sit tight. We may have to book it
pretty quick, depending on what José has in mind for harbor
patrol.”
“Who is José?”
“He's Juan's older brother.” Spider moved quickly
to the helm and started up the boat, the engine revving at his
command. He piloted the boat away from the docks and out into
the ocean. He spotted harbor patrol but the speed boat turned
away from them and toward a large plume of smoke. Right on time,
as promised.
When they were safely out on the open water, he
went back into the cabin. “We're on our way, Kora. Do you need
anything?”
“No, I think I found everything. Can I get you
something maybe?”
“I could go for coffee in a little while, maybe
some conversation to go with it.” He tried not to stare at her.
“I think I can safely manage that. I'll just put
some things away until I find the coffee.” She grinned. Spider
realized that if he didn't know, he'd never believe that she was
a machine. She was so real, in her speech, her mannerisms, and
her smile. Shaking his head, he returned to the wheel to guide
the boat along.
It was almost an hour later when Kora appeared
with mugs and a thermos of coffee. As she poured the coffee,
Spider watched her closely. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You told me you were programmed to kill
President Roberts. I want to know what you want to do about it.”
“Well, I suppose we should really try to warn
him. If they had me inside, they probably have a backup, in case
I was discovered or if I malfunctioned like I did. They
obviously haven't done anything yet. He's still alive.” She
handed him a steaming mug and sat down with hers.
“I was thinking something along those lines
myself.” Spider leaned back in the captain’s chair. “This isn’t
something we can take to anyone and be believed. Not without
risking your safety. And I really don’t want to do that.”
“Why do you care?” She sipped her coffee, even
wincing at the heat.
Her programmer had thought of everything. Every
possible reaction to everyday stimuli. For a moment, he wondered
what she would do if he kissed her. “I told you. I have a thing
for machines.” He smiled. “I just do, okay?”
“Fine. If we can’t go to someone, what can we
possibly do?”
“If I can get to an election rally, maybe I can
shut down any backups that might be in place”
“Staffers don't go to the rallies.”
“But the secret service agents do. If they can
get a staffer, they probably at least attempted to get someone
like you into his security detail. It worked on you; I don’t see
why it wouldn’t work on them.”
“How did you make it? Your little shut-off box?”
“Trial and error mostly.” He grimaced as he
scalded his tongue. “I spent the better part of ten years trying
to figure it out. I used a good jammer as the foundation. I knew
it could work but, until I had it in my hands, until I saw what
it could do, I didn't really think it would.”
“Things like that make me believe at least a
little in fate.”
“Fate?”
Such an odd concept for a machine. Every time she
spoke, she surprised him. “Something like that. Especially now.”
He sat down in his captain's chair. “I’ve got my laptop hooked
into the satellite network, as soon as I set up the dish, we
should be online. When you go back inside, check out the
President's website. That should have his next few appearances.
We have to get to the first one we can.”
“I'll take a look and see what I can find.”
“You know you can't go with me to the rally,
right?”
“I know. If I go, it'll shut me down too and draw
attention to us.” She sighed heavily and breathed in deep,
pulling the steam into her nose. “I so badly want to know that
these people won't win. You have no idea.”
“Yeah I do. You want to know that it's you, not
your creator, who controls your life. I think everyone wants
that at some point.”
“Maybe.” She stared out over the water. “I wonder
what will happen to me. I'm a machine. I only end. There is no
heaven or hell for me. There is nothing after my death, if that
ever comes.”
“Maybe it has nothing to do with form and
everything to do with spirit. How do you know you don't have
one?”
“I guess I don't.” She shook her head. “I'll go
look up the rally. I'll let you know when I find it.” Spider
watched her as she walked away, wishing there were some sort of
comfort he could offer her.
It took only a few moments before Kora found the
next rally. New York City. They'd be able to get there in time,
as long as they kept moving. Spider set the coordinates and
showed Kora how to keep the boat on course. They decided that
she would steer the boat through the night. Sleep was something
she could live without. Spider made his own preparations, going
through his bags until he found a suitable disguise. It was an
uneasy night, between the seas and the thoughts circling in his
head.
With the sunrise came the anxiety, the
adrenaline. It took him a while to get ready, covering his
tattoos, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. Trying to
make sure he'd blend into the crowd and hoping he'd do a good
enough job that the feds that would be inspecting any footage
later couldn't get a good fix with their facial recognition
programs.
“Does it look good enough to pass?” Spider
lowered his head so Kora could check the makeup that covered his
tattoos.
“It wouldn't hurt to wear a hat but I don't think
anyone will look twice.” She ran a finger over his skull, slowly
as if memorizing the shape of his head. “You'd better go.” She
dropped her hand and moved quickly to brush her lips over his.
“For luck.”
“I'll need it.” Spider pushed aside the sudden
desire to pull her to him and see just how human her reactions
really were. Instead, he pulled a ball cap on and hopped from
the boat to the dock.
The band was just beginning to play as Spider
positioned himself next to the velvet ropes on the outer edge of
the audience space, standing shoulder to shoulder with
supporters. President Roberts and his security entourage would
be easily within the range of the disrupter once they got onto
the stage, less than twenty yards from his place at the edge of
the crowd.
As the first car stopped and spit out half a
dozen secret service agents, Spider started to feel itchy. The
makeup was bad enough but he longed for his standard leather,
wired with all the comforts of home. The catcalls and whoops
from the crowd drew his attention back to the red carpet in time
to see the President in his perfectly pressed suit, surrounded
by large men with dark glasses and curling wires coming out of
their ears. He kept his hands out of the jacket pocket,
unwilling to allow anyone to think he was a threat, until the
President was past and starting up the stairs to the podium.
With a smooth motion, Spider dipped his hand into
his pocket and pressed the switch.
“Oh no.” The words fell from his mouth as he
watched President Roberts fall lifeless off the edge of the
stage, twisting at an inhuman angle. Two men in dark suits and
glasses had crumpled to the ground behind him, inanimate.
In the confusion and hysteria that followed,
Spider slipped under the barriers into the crowd that was
gathering in the aftermath, onlookers trying to find out what
the problem was, craning to see the president, to see a moment
of history live, before it reached the news. He was well into
the throng of newcomers when the police began to disperse them.
Spider took the long way back to the docks. His
life had changed in a matter of days. Now, he wasn't just on the
run from the company that wanted his disrupter but a person or
company capable of making machines that looked like anyone they
wanted them to. How could he ever be certain again that anyone
was who they were supposed to be? The thought sent a wave of
unease through him, too much was already uncertain in his life.
He wasn't looking forward to telling Kora what he
knew. When the boat came into view, he found himself conflicted.
He was relieved to see her perched in the Captain's chair
watching for him but absolutely dreading the conversation ahead.
She smiled as she saw him but the smile faded away as he stepped
onto the boat.
“What's wrong? Were we too late?” She rushed to
him.
“When I hit the switch, President Roberts and two
of the security detail shut down.” Spider shook his head sadly.
“Oh God.” She slid to the deck. “Was it me?”
“Probably. I think I know what happened now Kora.”
He picked her up and carried her into the cabin. “I think you
carried out your programming without a hitch, giving them the
opportunity to replace the President. I also think that probably
you were programmed to self-destruct on completion of that
mission. Something inside you, whatever part of you that has
taken on a consciousness, refused to kill yourself. Maybe that
part of you made sure you got that shock.”
“How is that possible?” She shook her head sadly
as he put her down, still holding her close.
“I don't know. This isn't something I've ever
dealt with before. In any case, that shock fried enough of your
circuits to allow you to see what you were and eliminate the
self-destruct command by reprogramming yourself.”
“If I did my job, why have they been after me,
Spider?” The panic in her eyes was too real to come just from
code.
“Because you know what you are and that could
lead to you knowing what President Roberts was, if you ever
remembered that you killed him.”
“Oh God. I killed him. I assassinated the
President.” Kora slumped into a chair.
“No.” Spider knelt beside her, taking her chin in
his hand and forcing her to look at him. “Whoever designed you,
whoever programmed you, he assassinated him. You have no guilt
in this. You were just the weapon. No one ever blamed the gun
that killed JFK did they?”
“Why don't I remember it?” The despair in her
face didn't shock him this time.
“I don't know. Maybe you erased it. We might
never know all the answers, Kora.”
“What happens now?” Kora wrapped her arms around
herself.
“We have to get out of here. What happened today
went international within five minutes, and I can almost
guarantee you that our hunters were headed here the moment it
aired.” Spider moved slowly to the door and paused in the
doorway. “I'll do my best to find somewhere that you’ll be safe
from all of it -- from the men after you and the men after me.”
Spider did not look at her as he left the cabin and made his way
to the helm.
He’d take her somewhere no one would ever think
to look for her. Like Amish country. Who’d look for a machine
there? For that matter, who’d look for him there either?
