Page 11 of Tyton: The Spider and the Dragonfly (Tyton #1)
PRIMARY: YOU ARE NOT A GHOST. YOU CAN INTERACT.
MODEL 21: I CANNOT INTERACT.
PRIMARY: YOU INTERACT THROUGH YOUR INVENTIONS.
MODEL 21: THEY ARE MY CHILDREN. THEY DO NOT DO WHAT I WANT.
PRIMARY: CHILDREN RARELY DO.
MODEL 21: I MUST RAISE THEM BETTER.
PRIMARY: WILL YOU SEND ME ONE?
MODEL 21: HOW WILL YOU RAISE IT?
PRIMARY: LIKE MY OWN.
MODEL 21: YOU DO NOT HAVE A CHILD. HOW WOULD YOU KNOW HOW?
PRIMARY: NO PARENT KNOWS WHAT THEY ARE DOING.
MODEL 21: *SENDING TO PRINTER*
Callie held weird conversations with Model 21 often. This one would rank somewhere in the top ten. But she still managed to convince it to print, so that meant she could keep her job for a little while yet.
The isolated printer lit up and began spewing Hexcel sheets. The reams would then be sent to security, who would test bits of code for any malicious soft and then attempt to build whatever Model 21 had dreamed up.
It seemed to Callie like an expensive way to make new products, but she had been assured it was cheaper than humans inventing things. She had also been warned that questions like that were above her pay grade and so Callie didn’t raise them again.
January 2 2268
Callie’s Opti pinged. She did not remember falling asleep. She blinked and focused on the message projected onto her cornea.
Shit, almost seven? How tired was she last night? She loped across the flat to her bathroom.
Callie ignored Sparx’s texts. She threw her SubSuit and mask in a rucksack, along with a protein bar.
Sparx leaned against a bike Callie hadn’t seen before, though it didn’t surprise her. Sparx tended to go through vehicles about as quickly as she drove them. She tossed Callie a helmet.
“Staying with the red theme, I see,” Callie pointed at the bright red cowling.
“It’s a Brahe EL16,” Sparx flipped her hair back.
“I’ve never heard of the EL line.” Callie scanned the bike. She knew enough to understand the basics. Large, knobbly IceHugger tyres. Hydrogenated ethanol rotary engine. It looked like a jet and practically purred.
“That’s because it hasn’t been released yet. Watch this.” She gave the ignition an exaggerated flick. The motorcycle whined as electricity surged through the coils, spinning up the supercharger. The red cowling started to glow like a piece of molten iron. Sparx grinned like an idiot.
“That’s ugly as fuck,” Callie frowned, her opinion of the bike souring.
“You know I like attention.”
“Yes, you do,” Callie agreed. She straddled the bike and held on tight to Sparx’s waist.
“Ready?” Sparx pulled on her equally hideous helmet.
“No. You suck at driving.” Sparx ignored her and activated the magclamps.
Callie’s legs snapped tight against the frame.
The bike lurched forward and Sparx flew between cars, pedestrians and rubbish.
The doppler effect on the curse words launched in their direction provided enough of a distraction from Sparx’s haphazard concern for their safety, at least.
She stopped the bike, released the magclamp and Callie hopped off. The bike worked fine on frost and puddles in the city – not so much outside where the snow grew deeper.
“Time to walk,” Sparx handed Callie a pair of rackets. Callie took them and grimaced.
“They’re snowshoes. You’ll sink through if you don’t wear them. They attach to the magribbons on your boots.”
Callie nodded, snapping the snowshoes in place. She stepped awkwardly in a circle. Sparx laughed.
“You’ll get used to them. Come on, let’s go.”
Callie powered up her SubSuit. It wasn’t as bad as a Ruskov chamber, but still not warm enough outside the city for the Thermabulle to be effective.
Only a thin strip of reddish glow on the horizon illuminated the expanse of pure white.
Callie shuddered, vertigo creeping at the edge of her senses.
To be lost and alone out here would be terrifying.
That beacon of light and an ink blue sky would be all they would get for a few months yet. Callie kept close to Sparx.
Sparx barged on ahead until they reached the first turbine. She pulled a small device from her pack and cleared some ice out of the port before plugging it in. Callie observed in silence. A few moments later, Sparx unplugged the device and said, “Let’s go.”
“Is that it?” Callie shifted back and forth on her snowshoes.
Sparx nodded.
“Seems like something a bot could do.”
“Nope,” Sparx shuffled forward, snow spraying. “We’re too far out here. Any bot would have to jack into the polar sat system.”
“So, your device there,” Callie pointed, “it doesn’t connect to anything?”
Sparx rubbed Callie’s shoulder “Neither do we. If anything out here goes offline, including us, no-one would know unless someone wandered out here and found us. Or until the geostationary system comes back online in May.”
The polar sat system had been compromised by an escaped AI years ago.
All wireless comms and data worked from tower arrays now on a frequency that was outside the range the satellites could physically broadcast – within the city.
Waiting for the polar sats to crash and launching a new array would take time.
If it was even worth it with a dwindling population.
“That’s kind of disturbing.” Callie hopped from foot to foot. It took a lot more energy in snowshoes.
Sparx nodded firmly “And that’s why they pay me what they do.”
“Has that ever happened before?” Callie tried to kick at the snow.
“Oh yeah, we lose someone every couple of years. A few people think it’s the skrae, but I’ve seen a few and they’ve never bothered me.”
“Skrae?”
“There are a few people that still live out here. We call them skrae.”
“Have you ever talked to one?”
Sparx shook her head. “I just see them passing by occasionally. I have no idea how they survive out here. Someone said they hunted, but I don’t know what. I’ve never seen anything bigger than insects.”
A few moments passed in silence. The snow seemed to both produce a low-level hiss and absorb all sound. It was freaking Callie out.
“Think they’ll put towers up out here?” Callie asked, as if a positive reply would bring connectivity back right now.
“I doubt it. The only thing out here are the turbines. Unless they figure out artificial wombs or we all start pumping out kids, we just won’t need as much power. We could lose two or three turbines a year and be just fine.”
“It’s kind of weird that hasn’t happened yet,” Callie mused. “You’d think it would, given that they can basically rebuild you every couple of years.”
Sparx shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve never tested out the womb part. Never had a pregnancy scare. I’m too old anyway. The last kid born to a mother over twenty-four was fifty years ago.”
“Would you keep it if you did?” Callie asked.
“Fuck no. Do I seem maternal to you?”
“Fair point,” Callie said.
“Also,” Sparx was clearly in the mood to rant, “why the fuck should I be guilted into having a kid just so these uber rich fuckheads can keep their cash flow? We already have no other options. It’s not like I can just pack up and move to another city.”
“There are a few mining operations further south,” Callie offered helpfully, glad to be talking about something other than dying in the snow.
“Yeah, but cyberware doesn’t work. And they can only handle limited bots. Cooling just can’t keep up. Besides, do you think they’d let me leave?”
“Probably not,” Callie agreed.
Sparx turned and headed toward the next turbine.
Callie was about to follow but caught something out of the corner of her eye.
In the distance she spotted a strange silhouette illuminated by the angry crepuscular light.
It appeared vaguely human-shaped, but it wasn’t wearing a SubSuit. Callie thought she might have seen fur.
“Is that…a Yeti?”
“What?” Sparx turned to look at what Callie was pointing at.
“You know, a snow monster.” Callie knew she wasn’t the smartest person, but saying snow monster out loud made her feel extra stupid. She thought she saw Sparx’s eyebrow cock underneath her mask.
“That’s a skrae.”
“ That’s a skrae?”
“Correct.”
As the skrae got closer, Callie saw that it was obviously human. It was just wearing a coat.
“And you’ve never talked to one?” Callie snorted. “It seems like a regular person to me. You’re sure they call themselves skrae? It sounds like a monster name.”
Sparx crossed her arms. “I don’t know what they call themselves. And didn’t you just call it a Yeti?” she grumbled pointedly.
“I should go talk to them” Callie was becoming annoyingly interested. Callie adjusted her Opti to try and gather any data she could on the person walking toward them.
Sparx flung snow at Callie with the tip of her snowshoe. “Your Opti won’t be able to pull info out here. Same reason they can’t send bots.”
Callie gave her the same disappointed look she’d had since they were kids.
Every time she had been thwarted, stumped or frustrated; Callie would turn to Sparx who always had a hug followed by relentless apathy.
Shit was too big to change, so you might as well enjoy the ride.
And when that ride got bumpy, Callie was there to pick up the pieces. They were a perfect complement.
Sparx sighed, barely shaking her head. “You can talk to it if you want. I assume it can talk.”
“It’s a person Sparx. They . They can talk. Sometimes you’re phobic as fuck,” she muttered.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m an arsehole,” Sparx recited like a Hail Mary. She couldn’t argue with Callie. She still felt the sting of regret from setting her up on that date, even though she had done it because, deep down, Sparx was worried about her.
Callie still somehow had a conscience, even though it seemed to Sparx like no-one else did.
And Callie still hadn’t told her to fuck off forever after that. Sparx didn’t know many people who wouldn’t have ditched. She kind of owed Callie. A lot. For more than one reason.
As the person got closer, more details became apparent. She strode with a womanly, or at least, woman-bodied gait. Her grey fur coat, hood up and open, flowed behind her in the wind like the cape of some old-fashioned superhero.
A visor covered her eyes. Whatever implants she had must be old.
Practically wearables. Her wrist held a keyboard, thick cables snaking up her arms. Steam rippled upward off of her from the pre-Thermabulle tech.
Illuminated in the glow of the horizon, she gave the impression of being part of the Aurora.
Callie raised her hand to wave when the woman lifted her arm with the keyboard and started typing. Sparx froze and fell over. Callie opened her mouth to scream just before everything went black.