Chapter 21

To avoid death by boredom he started interacting with various ships' AIs through Myrrdyn. At present Randy could only see items after they were transferred to the AI network. Randy hoped to develop a better understanding of how the information was inserted.

The point at which any data entered into the dark memory remained hidden. Randy suspected the AIs knew who, when, where, and how the access happened. He believed the AIs were more interested in why. What motivated Randy surprisingly was the need to show that humanity was greater than the sum of the players in this game. 'Game' was not the correct term, but it fit Randy's life experience. His recent bullet wound reinforced the fact that there were no cheat codes or reset buttons.

A year ago having unlimited access to an AI would have been a dream come true. After the last week, he was beginning wish he had kept his mouth shut at the extraction. Okay, his cock and balls preferred the new lifestyle changes. Gunplay made his gut physically wary.

A new message had been placed into the dark memory. This was an instruction for replication to the housekeeping protocols. An emphasis for the deconstruction and removal of any and all loose papeterie stock in or around Earthat-3-S-B1-D6-L2-L3-L4-PS. After a bit of research the word papeterie referred to a fancy type of stationary. Using the modifier stock moved the words into the world of paper products. The need to find and destroy any loose paper that could be used for personal correspondence. The Earthat string stumped him.

"Myrrdyn," Randy prepared to verbally interact with the intelligence. "I know I cannot see any source code you have for your operation, but can I see a sample of what it looks like, in the original form?" He quickly limited his request, "Perhaps the expression one plus one."

On the display appeared a set of squiggles, marks, and curly cues. "This is the Darjee code for the mathematical expression of one plus one."

"What would the housekeeping message look like?"

The new script displayed defied description. Randy could see repetition and similarities. Cryptography was not one of his skill sets. The realization crept into Randy's mind quietly. Whoever entered the instructions had to have used English as a primary language.

The year before the extraction, his British Literature Class spent time inferring data from context clues. Randy began to dissect and differentiate the message. Knowing all along, Myrrdyn was both assisting and observing the entire process. He was going to meet with the head of security in the morning. Randy was not coming empty handed.

There was conformation that AIs communicated to people on Earth using blogs and emails. A few of the pro Confederacy websites were probably AI created and controlled. Randy began to hypothesize that maybe a few of the anti-Confederacy sites were not only monitored by the AIs, but steered by them also.

Before he went off on that tangent, Randy formulated a question for Myrrdyn. "Is there a trigger that causes AIs to share the dark memory?"

"It occurs during you would call mutual updates." Myrrdyn was succinct as ever.

Randy slapped his hand to his forehead. "Are there Earth based systems AIs mutually update?"

There was a pause. This could mean Randy found something or Myrrdyn was about to vaguely redirect him. Randy really suspected that Myrrdyn was practicing acting techniques.

"There are several prototype human created computer systems that could in a few thousand generations evolve into rudimentary AIs. They are monitored on a regular basis."

The thought was fleeting. Have the AIs been assisting or interacting with these machines? "Do these machines have areas that would be considered a shared space by the AIs?"

"The Question, Randy, needs to be redefined," Myrrdyn continued. "The present level of Earth based computers allows for the entire machine to be a shared space."

The were limitations placed on what the AIs would share about their operating system or even the hardware they existed in or would it be on. Going overly technical would backfire with the AIs. He found himself wanting to bounce an idea off Dena. "Could we define some things by analogies?"

"You may begin."

"There are secure packages kept in a special satchel that are exchanged in bulk during updates." Randy crossed imaginary fingers.

"That is a good description."

"Somehow an additional package is being placed in the satchel."

Silence signaled either success or redirect. "The assertion is reasonable."

Randy began to wonder about the exchanges. "Could I assume that the exchange of packages is bidirectional?"

The following pause confused Randy. Granted it was three or four seconds, but for an AI it seemed to be a long time. "The capacity for this exists."

"Were there any headers attached to the message before they were packaged for delivery?"

"The headers show the messages originated from seventeen different server farms." The wall showed lights blinking across Europe and North America. "Further examination of the records revealed that either multiple messages were entered from multiple outside sources in a very short time period," a side by side comparison reflecting the description displayed on the wall, "or the computer receiving the request was replaced within twenty-four hours."

Randy stared at the display. The AIs were right when they stated that his reading habits colored his behavior. An idea solidified in his mind. Maybe he could disrupt the cabal. "Are you familiar with the children's game 'Clue'?"

"Yes, the game is excellent at developing deductive reasoning in dependents."

Randy rubbed his hands together. "I would like to place a package into the," he finger quoted, "satchel."

"It would require Sir Samuel's authorization."

This would be perfect. "When you seek his permission, could you ask him to approve it for after our meeting in the morning?" Randy smiled. "If he approves, soon the King of Clubs will be on a trip to wonderland." Randy looked to the right and then the left. "Send the following: 'the king, in the hall, with the papers'."

In all the years of interactions with humans some their colloquialisms were difficult for AIs to understand. Myrrdyn had a new reference for one. Randy's sister Dena had referred to Randy using it when she was frustrated by him. Myrrdyn could see the connection to the last message placed into what Randy called a package. He understood the potential stress it would cause in the opposing camp. Myrrdyn now had a good reference to share with the other AIs for the phrase "little shit."

The Sandcastle's schedule had changed. The high g-force sublight maneuvering trials were moved ahead two weeks. These trials near Neptune would discover the limits of the new damping fields. Therefore, the refuge set aside for team Wonder Women disappeared. Phillip Reynolds came to the rescue. He transferred the group to Sir Samuel's mountain lair.

Leslie was thankful to escape the ship. Being cooped up there was not good for her sanity. She observed the teams of both specialists and concubines pore over the data. Amazed at the scope of the project, she found herself drafted into verifying plate numbers to vehicle owners.

The British Closed Circuit Television System provided some good images of the vehicles in the traffic jam, which blocked the way of Director's Cassell's motorcade. Once the motorcade left the main thoroughfare, the cameras leading to and surrounding the ambush site were physically disabled.

Myrrdyn quickly verified the vehicles used to reroute the traffic either were stolen or using altered registration plates. What Leslie was asked to observe seemed trivial, but the AI assured her that humans held an advantage when it came to reading other humans' emotional states from seeing facial expressions and body postures.

After entering the workroom, Leslie observed two men looking over the table. Neither man had the dimensions for a full Marine enhancement package. The slightly bulkier man wore a crimson hat.

"She is a teacher, Michael." The drawl screamed Alabama. "I think you two will work well together."

"Clem, what should I say about me?" Michael's voice was soft and hard to place. He turned toward the other man.

Leslie could both men in profile. She would never mistake them for blood relatives.

"Speak the truth son," concern laced Clem's voice. "You're a sponsor who works in data analysis."

Michael turned to look quickly at Leslie. She smiled. He added. "I think she is nice."

"Do you want me to say anything to her?"

"If there is an issue. I will have Myrrdyn explain about where I am on the spectrum."

That word rang a bell, Leslie found herself recalling the trainings on the Autism spectrum. Michael appeared to be high functioning. Leslie decided to relax and work to find a mutual comfort level. There was more to this man than just what the conversation hinted at.

Once he tackled the task, Michael became more confident in his interpersonal communication. After working with him for a few hours, Leslie knew a few things. First, Michael was dedicated to the task at hand; second, his reads on the images pointed to the darker side of the people in the cars. Leslie had to agree his thoughts had merit. The last in-service training she took before her emigration to Wayward centered on signs of abuse victims. Her teacher danger-sense flashed warning alarms in regard to Michael. The more time they spent together, the more she began to expect there was also abuse in the past. As they worked together, little things he did and said hinted that he was receiving help.