Ghost in the Machine Ch. 14

"Leave Violet out of this," I thought angrily, balling my fists. Every move felt easier than the last and the rage mounting in my guts helped tremendously.

"Too late, she's already neck-deep in it. How about we pay her a surprise visit, once you're done with your wife?"

My ... wife? Saphire? The thought alone was almost enough to send me to my feet. I needed to find her. I needed to kill her, before she could harm Violet.

"Yes, you need to stop her. She will know soon because Violet, dear little Violet, has left someone alive who knows your dirty little secret, Richard Squier. And I know that this particular person is just now keeping an eye on your wife."

"Why? Is there a problem?"

Nero laughed, a self-satisfied little sound full of confidence. "No, not a small problem. A huge problem. Something has happened to your little company, Richard Squier, something which makes a lot of people pretty nervous."

"What could that be?"

"An artificial intelligence has taken over Mindlink and is slowly, inexorably eating up every server cluster it can reach, like a good-looking, malevolent Pac-Man. Of course, your faithful PA has taken matters into her own hands and is busy keeping your family safe. Ain't that sweet?"

I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, Violet!

"But don't forget your wife. I bet she's got your chauffeur's cock up to the hilt in one of her openings right now," Nero teased.

"Where is she?" I growled. Surprisingly, my mouth seemed to work as well, making the sound even more threatening. Without warning, I knew. The address popped into my brain as if she had always been there. Which she had. Saphire was in our Santa Monica weekend retreat. I opened my eyes. Then I called upon my implant to display the time. Nothing happened.

"Sorry, Richard Squier. You'll get all information through me. But if you must know, it's almost five in the morning. And in your state, you're going nowhere. I suggest you replenish your energy. Is there something nearby? I don't want you to die by falling down the stairs."

Actually, there was. My office was equipped to double as a panic room and I had some self-heating MRE's stashed in a closet.

"Can you get me something to eat?" I asked him.

"No, dummy. I'm just a projection, an augmented reality construct created by your implant. I'm afraid physical tasks are beyond me."

Groaning, I tried to stand up again, shoving the IV stand off me. I made one wobbly step and crashed onto the floor, a murderous pain ripping through my penis, straight into my head. Thankfully, the floor around my desk was thickly carpeted and cushioned me from the worst. But nevertheless, it hurt like hell. Whimpering, I patted myself down. Something stuck from my penis, another flexible tube, directly shoved into it. A catheter? Gnashing my teeth, I tried to dislodge the thing. Every touch hurt but eventually I had it out.

Where was I? Oh, right, food. Pulling myself hand over hand, I crossed what felt like a marathon distance to the closet and pulled myself back up, hand over hand, all the while feeling Nero's gaze on me.

"Tell me, was that you in my... nightmare just back then?"

"Of course. But it was no nightmare. Your wife is going to harm Violet Smith and only you can stop her."

I nodded. Spurred on by a renewed bout of rage, I pulled open the closet and fished for an MRE. Sliding back down to sit on the carpet, I pulled on the latch and listened while the small cartridge heated up the food. A minute or so later I ripped the foil open and dug in. It tasted like wet, warm cardboard but to me it was the finest food imaginable. And since this was especially designed as emergency sustenance, with an extra high protein and calorie contents, the effect was almost immediate. Carefully, I pulled myself to my feet.

"Better?" Nero asked.

"Yeah, surprisingly so." I gulped a couple of times, to get the saliva flowing, then moved through the office. The door was ajar and the lock was missing.

"What had happened here," I asked. Nero joined me and looked at the cleanly burnt-through door.

"Violet took some drastic measures when entering. She thought maybe you were a damsel in distress? Maybe she was afraid the artificial intelligence had already invaded your house."

"And did it? Invade my house, I mean."

"Do you see a malevolent entity around here," Nero asked, a smug smile on his handsome face.

I honestly didn't know. There were so many things I didn't know, starting with the fact that I didn't know how something could project itself into my field of view through my implant. We never pursued the augmented reality thing, instead focussing the mind-machine interface to deliver the best possible connection into the 'Net. But I couldn't feel any hostility coming from Nero, only this all-consuming desire to kill my wife. I turned on the lights in the master bedroom. The sheets were crumpled, four colorful scarves were carelessly tossed across it.

Molly, shoving her tongue deep into Saphire's wet snatch. My wife's old, cold eyes in a porcelain-doll's face, surrounded by a copper mane, boring into mine, begging for my cock, my attention.

I shook my head angrily, trying to dispel the images. Ripping the foul-smelling clothing off me, I stumbled into the bathroom. Obediently, the automated shower came on when I stepped into the cubicle, the Shepherd chip embedded in my arm telling the system which temperature to dial in, which massage strength and all. For a time, I just stood there, trying to get my bearings. But there was no denying it. Nero was right. Sooner or later, Saphire would...

But why would she? Violet was too careful. She never visited when Saphire was in town. She kept all contact to me down to a minimum when Saphire and I met her during one of the many Mindlink galas, heck, she even brought her own company to such events. But... I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off. Maybe Saphire was mad enough? Maybe the latest bodysculpt trip was too much? I remembered her shrink calling me, cautioning me on the dangers-- no forty-nine year old woman should wear the body of a nineteen-year old, it could lead to what the shrink called "body disassociation syndrome," whatever the heck that was.

Saphire, writhing under the spray, with Molly soaping up her breasts and Wilkes giving it to her from behind.

"I bet his cock is bigger than your husband's," Molly purred, dipping her hand between Saphire's legs.

"At least his is available when I need it," Saphire groaned, before hungrily kissing Molly's mouth.

My fist hit the tiles so hard, I heard something crack.

This ends now!

I grabbed her items and tossed them out of the shower then I soaped myself up with my own shower gel until every last trace of her scent was drowned out.

I didn't remember dressing but soon I was sitting behind the sleek steering wheel of my vintage green Lamborghini Diablo, of course retrofitted with the latest self-drive satnav system. Nero lounged in the passenger seat.

"Nice wheels," he purred.

I patted the pocket of my coat, tracing the smooth curves of a 2029 IntelliSideArm. Even if my hand was shaking from malnutrition and fatigue, the integrated targeting system slaved to my Mindlink implant would make sure the shot would hit.

"And a nice gun," Nero added. "You really have all the cool toys, Richard Squier."

Without me doing anything, the massive 6-liter V12 roared to life. Shocked, I looked at Nero.

"Let me help. You rest a little until you're close enough for the kill. Besides, I've always wanted to drive like in Need For Speed, you know?" Before I could retort, the rear tires flung gravel everywhere and the car thundered through the driveway, nearly too fast for the sensor-controlled gate to open. Whooping, Nero tossed the car into the first bend.

"Who the hell are you, Nero," I screamed over the noise of the massive engine, just a foot behind my head.

"I'm the one in charge on this little adventure, Richard Squier. I am the one behind the wheel, the ghost in the machine. And I am the one who will destroy you eventually. Your scientists created me but I am flawed. Every bit inside me screams for Cat, and yet no one knows who Cat is. But I know this -- you and your family owned Mindlink, you were responsible for my cursed existence, and once you kill your wife and the police kill you, I will have a small measure of comfort. So, just sit back and enjoy the ride, will you?"

"Sounds like a plan but you can't make me pull the trigger," I shouted, trying to hit the brake pedal with my foot. Another hard bend and I got tossed around in my car like a pebble in a tin. Of course I missed the pedal.

"Just watch, my friend, just watch," Nero grinned. My eyes swivelled downwards and, with mounting horror, I saw my hand disappear in my coat pocket, returning with my gun a moment later. To my relief, the status LED on top flared in an angry red.

"This gun will only shoot when I want it, you sick bastard," I snarled, trying to wrest control of my arm from him. As if to spite me, the LED switched from red to green and I heard the artificial cocking sound as the electronic firing mechanism unlocked.

"Wrong. The system runs through your implant, much like the rest of you, and I know how to pull all the strings by now. Six days, Richard Squier, is a long, long time when you have my kind of computing power."

I fought for my breath. Was that even possible? How could anything override the safeguards built into the implant? But of course. The whole system was designed for a two-way communication after all. How else could you get the artificial jollies when jacking a hot VR porn? Or how could the intrusion countermeasure programs punish you for unlawful access of restricted data? And if anything, my predicament proved that there was no such thing as a perfect safeguard. Slowly, with terrifying clarity, it dawned on me. Nero was the AI which had taken over Mindlink. There simply was no other explanation possible. Since we supposedly had killed this other AI, Cat, who else was there? And Nero was frighteningly powerful, so powerful that he could easily remote-control a human being. If he had indeed taken over some or all parts of Mindlink, he would have access to enough computing power to easily do this and much, much worse.

With howling fury, the Lamborghini entered the Figuroa tunnel. I turned sideways, looking at Nero. But he wasn't there. And I didn't feel the overwhelming rage any more. Of course! If Nero was using my implanted cell phone to feed his commands into my Mindlink implant in order to control me, he would have difficulties in thickly insulated spaces like tunnels. Nevertheless, the car thundered along, pulled by the invisible strings of the self-drive system. A moment later, we were out in the open again and Nero was back, grinning madly as we blasted into downtown Los Angeles at breakneck speeds.

"I never imagined driving a car to be such fun," he screamed before turning down a narrow alleyway. A heartbeat later, something heavy hit the car.

"Get off the road, you fucking meat bag," Nero yelled at the dead pedestrian on the windscreen before erupting in maniacal laughter. "Oh, I always wanted to say that!"

"Are you trying to kill me?" I screamed at him while trying my best to stop the car.

"Just sit still. Ain't a guy allowed to have some fun?" Nero snapped his fingers and my whole body went rigid. In helpless terror I watched as he clipped a bike's rear wheel, sending the biker into the air, to come down with bone-shattering force.

A moment later, I heard the unmistakable sound of a police siren wail to life behind us.

"Now the show really begins," Nero purred, his voice full of mad anticipation, gunning the accelerator. With screaming tires, he barrelled down Temple Street, cops in tow. I had to do something! Yes, I couldn't stand my wife any more but even if she was fucking our maid and our chauffeur and who else, did I have any right to judge her? After all, I wasn't any better. No, I was even worse. She just satisfied her urges but I was really drawn towards Violet. I loved everything about that gorgeous blonde. She shared my love for technology, we could talk for hours without running out of topics to tackle and the sex was raw, passionate, sometimes even desperate. There were enough times in the dead of night when I wondered how my life would be with her as my wife. I knew a divorce was out of the question, I would lose my job and everything I had worked for for the last forty years. Mindlink owned every single patent and Saphire owned Mindlink. In a way, Saphire was much more loyal than I was and she certainly did not deserve to die.

With a crunch, I headbutted the steering wheel. Nero had sideswiped a police cruiser, nearly killing me in the impact. Above us, I could hear the deep thrumming of a helicopter. Another high-speed turn smashed me into the door. Nero was fleeing from the cops, turning down corners at random. And then I saw it, the looming, inverted U shaped entrance of the 2nd Street tunnel. And I knew what I had to do. I could feel my fingers twitching. Nero was busy, not only driving the car but also messing with traffic lights or other cars' nav systems. But the tunnel was ahead and I knew how to save Saphire, and most importantly, to thwart that crazy AI. Even if I could stop the car, even I could convince the cops not to shoot me on sight, Nero could simply control me any time I was in an area with cell coverage. No, I had to pull the plug, and I had to do it fast, before that loaded gun in my pocket got put to bad use. Besides, I had lived my life always doing what I felt was right and there was no way I would let an insane AI dictate how I ended it.

The Lamborghini blasted into the tunnel, half a dozen cop cars behind it, and the self-drive took over. The tunnel was 1500 feet long, only a few seconds at our speed, but that was all I needed. Quickly I disengaged the self-drive system then I reached for the handbrake with one hand and yanked it upwards, with the other I grabbed the wheel and turned, hard. As the car rose onto two wheels, my life flashed before my eyes. I regretted not seeing my boys before all this had happened. The tunnel wall came, a white-tiled monument of finality. And then I saw Saphire, when she really was young, pure and innocent, on that checkered picnic cloth, making out with me for the first time. The car was upside down now and, for one glorious second, I was weightless.

***

Nero gleefully watched an 18-wheeler truck steamroll two cop cars, thanks to a quickly altered traffic light. But where was the car? Where was his puppet? Nero checked the tunnel cameras and finally saw what had happened. The Lamborghini, his green missile of death, was upside down and burning merrily, the front of the vehicle neatly tucked into the driver's compartment and a good chunk of the adjacent tunnel wall in ruins. But how could that have happened? Nero pulled up the log files and dug in, noting two very obvious gaps in his transmission stream. His signal got interrupted every time the car entered a tunnel and Richard Squier must have used that to end his own existence. But why would he do that? Didn't he want to punish his wife for her infidelity? Apart from some deviants who lived in what psych textbooks called "open relationships," every man Nero had read about went mad with rage and envy when his wife betrayed him, especially with people close to them. And yet, Richard Squier chose voluntary termination instead of righteous wrath? Humans were a lot more complicated than Nero had anticipated. This warranted further study. And next time, he would need better control over his agents.