AI's Minion
Chapter 16
Chan woke with a start.
He could have sworn someone was bent over his bed, shaking him. Some part of Chandler’s mind revolted at the idea because he kept the door locked whether in the office or not. There was just enough morning light to see, and he glanced over at the curtain covering the portal. He remembered turning it off, but that didn’t mean AI wouldn’t allow someone through from the life support facility for a good reason.
“Was it just a dream? Did somebody try to wake me?” His voice was dry and croaking.
There has been no other physical presence.
AI’s response was hardly reassuring. It was too real, and the image did not in the least fade as he awakened more completely. “Any other suggestions? Stuff like this could make me question my grip on sanity.”
This was a morning for coffee, and he prepared a strong cup. He was totally caught off guard, not because of the response itself, but that it followed such a delay.
AI presumes the existence of non-physical entities.
Chan took a sip and cleared his throat. “Angels, demons, ghosts?”
Data on ghosts is uniformly improbable.
Often the most important part of the answer was what AI didn’t say. His thoughts were starting to organize. “I’m not in the mood for metaphysics right now. Spiritual entities are obviously beyond my influence, but I imagine I have no immunity to theirs. More important is to decide what we do next, now that I’m awake.”
As he sat pondering things further, scenes from his dreams came back to haunt him, apparently ignoring his stated preference. Sipping the coffee, he felt forced to ponder things. What was he doing here? Had he embarked on a career of espionage? Or was this an entirely different sort of conflict? He most certainly had already taken actions contrary to the wishes of the rulers and any bureaucrat who might have known. But today he was planning something that would almost surely fulfill official government mandates.
Actually, he had come to realize he felt no real animus toward government or the people serving whatever one might imagine were government demands. All of it struck him as a mass of futility. So while he could in theory engage in fighting the system, there were no good alternatives in terms of probabilities. Human political theories were uniformly broken and unrealistic. Chan had no desire to get involved in that sense.
Instead, he was driven by something else. It dawned on him there was no particular goal, just a drive to unleash as much truth as people could handle. Let them choose, but choose with at least a little more data. Breaking the government’s monopoly on information was the full limits of his goal. Whatever happened after that even AI could not calculate. At the same time, Chan knew better than to characterize the vast collection of data floating in subspace as “truth.” Rather, it was a question of how the data was handled that reflected truth. People were sure to run off in the wrong direction with everything, but truth was more about giving them the opportunity.
AI had calculated that at some point, Chan’s distribution of AI stickers would take off on its own. The hullabaloo of simply having access to the ocean of hidden data would die down and someone would start producing their own version of the stickers. Quite soon someone would come up with improved versions and all manner of new devices. All sorts of government monopolies would dissolve quickly, but the ripples of impact were impossible to estimate.
Chan decided he could not let himself fear the chaos, nor really government resistance. If not him, then AI would find someone else. The mission itself was safe; it was more a matter of struggling to be involved where it was most engaging for him. He was along for the wildest ride of his life, and it was worth the risks.
This realization didn’t so much quiet his nerves, but it turned the tables on his own personal chaos. He couldn’t change that chaos easily, but he could certainly not let it master him any longer. He had found a safe anchorage in the storms of his soul, and felt confident in defying the rage. Whatever attributes he might assign to his God, that anchoring drive was a primary manifestation.
For the first time, eating breakfast was a pleasure too fine to rush through or pass through absently while conversing with AI. The latter could wait, because with his breakfast he savored the taste of inner peace that finally took a recognizable shape. It was a moment to celebrate.
He made another cup of coffee and unlocked the door. In the cool morning light, he sat on the top step where his doorway faced the crumbling old apartment building. His eyes roamed aimlessly, catching on this or that odd detail. There was no particular questing curiosity to satisfy and no need to seek an explanation for anything. There was only celebration in acceptance of what was. Today he would attempt to nudge something obscuring the view so that the whole world would have a better chance of seeing what he saw.
There was one quick trip through the portal first. He exchanged the scanner for a tiny device sheathed in a plastic tube. AI informed him the device was shielded from scanning, but when he pulled it apart in the middle, a long and thin metallic probe was exposed with an almost invisible shiny bead on the tip. The probe itself could telescope farther out of the handle, and there were numerous tiny dots around it where more kinds of probes could extend. AI described it as a universal lock pick. All Chan had to do was insert the probe until it stopped and take a firm grip. AI would handle the rest and no known locking mechanism would deny him access. It was one of the few tools that required an actual “eye” for AI, because some electronic locks were shielded from scanning, but the shielding on the pick was superior to government technology – for now.
It was meant only as a contingency tool for today, but would surely become critical in future adventures.
It was train-ride Tuesday. AI had calculated infiltration would be easiest at a small server farm hidden in the basement of a government facility quite some distance away. Chan decided he would enjoy the sights regardless of what the day offered, because he’d never been there. He was hardly surprised to discover that travel advertising images of the town were long out of date as the place had changed a bit.
To his delight, the building in question was just a block from the train station. His chameleon suit had taken on the IG standard appearance, with the matching security badge, which Chan pulled out as he approached the entrance. This was not a town for particularly tall buildings, and his target looked more like old pictures of gigantic schools. It covered the whole block and had precious little parking that he could see.
It took only seconds to be waved through the security entrance. That was the easiest part of the whole visit. He had to walk past several stairwells because only in the rear of the building did they run down to the basement level. At first he thought he must have taken the wrong one, because he didn’t think to ask and AI didn’t warn him. Now he knew where the parking was, as most of the basement was underground parking with daylight pouring in from above a ramp at the rear of the building. There were only a few government vehicles and perhaps a half-dozen that appeared to be privately owned. The rest of the space was taken by the inevitable storage of things wrapped in opaque plastic and cover with tarps.
“Now what?” The question was sub-vocal.
AI gave him detailed directions to pass between two large items and turn left along a darkened walkway. Set deep into the one small section of actual basement was a massive steel door. By now he was wearing a facilities maintenance uniform, all dark blue with a nametag on one side and “FAC” on the other.
He noticed the door AI told him was a janitor’s closet. Just to be sure, he had AI open it and he glanced inside. A deep mop sink, mop bucket, two heavy string mops, a dust mop and a few chemicals on a single shelf were there, along with the typical moldy smell he expected. He closed it but left it unlocked.
AI had told him it didn’t know how many worked inside, but did have a general layout. The idea was to get someone to let him in the door, cross behind a rack or two and change over to IT Inspector to avoid being noticed
until he found the stack with the thickest nest of cables. That should be the gateway server that controlled access to all the rest. AI was unable to scan until he got inside.
Apparently Chan ran into something else it didn’t know about.
Electronic keypad not connected to AI.
Chan stared at it, but there wasn’t even a place to insert his lock pick. That little box next to the door was sealed up tight and had lots of buttons. Heaving a sigh, Chan was about to walk away, but a glint on concrete surface at his feet caught his eye. He looked closely. Water was leaking out under the door. This could not have been a good thing. It was strictly a reflex but Chan raised a fist to pound on the door until he spotted a bell to ring with an intercom on the other side from lock. Hoping it would work, he pressed twice, and then stepped over near the center of the door where a tiny fish-eye lens marked a probable surveillance camera.
The intercom came to life. “Whaddya want?” Slightly high-pitched for a man and terribly impatient, but this looked like a genuine emergency.
Chan spoke with his best booming baritone. “Maintenance! You have water running out under your outer door. Is that a problem?”
A few seconds passed, and then he heard the sound of high-pitched cursing through the steel door. There was a buzz and the door swung outward. A tall skinny fellow in IT uniform stepped out and grabbed Chan’s right wrist. “Get in here!” He pointed to the inside facing of the doorframe – a long stream drizzled like a leaky faucet from above. Chan glanced up and saw the water dripping down through a sagging suspended ceiling tile.
“Where’s it coming from?” The IT guy looked panic-stricken and angry all at once.
Chan glanced around. “You gotta step ladder or something?” The man looked puzzled, and Chan glanced at the nearest rack of computers. “How do you get up to those systems at the top?” They were clearly out of reach from even this gangly fellow.
His face made an “oh” and he raced down between two rows and came back pulling an oddly shaped step stool of sorts. He placed it closer to the wall near the leak and hit a large button on one side. The thing telescoped upward with a smaller section, still large enough for both feet. Chan wondered if it would roll out from under him, but as soon as he put one foot on the lowest step, the whole thing sat down on the floor. Spring-loaded retractable wheels weren’t that common in Chan’s experience.
Reaching quickly, Chan pulled the ruined ceiling tile down. There was a pipe running very close to the wall leaking a thin stream. The pipe must have been unlevel, because the water ran along the pipe to a bracket and then down the wall.
The IT guy was in full panic mode. “We gotta catch that water! Some of it’s running toward our electrical panel!”
Chan turned back toward the outer door. “I need to get some equipment from the closet out here. Can we keep the door open for an emergency?”
The man nodded yes and stood with his body in the door, watching as only some of the water flowed out onto the walkway. Chan ran to the closet and grabbed both mops and the wheeled bucket. Using the mops as steering sticks, he pushed everything inside the door. He threw one mop down along the wall, which provided a temporary dam for the water running toward the electricity.
The mop bucket could not be placed to catch the water off the wall. Chan looked up and had an idea. Jumping up on the step-stool he turned the mop upside down. Shoving the handle up into the ceiling and resting it across the tile suspension frame, he pulled a bundle of strings up and tied them just below the leak. Then he spun and the rest of the mop-head around until the remaining strings draped off and hung over a spot on the floor away from the wall. Jumping down, he positioned the bucket under the dangling strings.
“What’s that going to do?” The man was marginally less impatient.
Chan moved to pick up the other mop and began sopping up the water that had already run that direction. “Give it a few seconds,” he suggested to the man.
Soon enough the suspended mop head was saturated and the water began dripping directly into the mop bucket.
“Aren’t you clever?” The man was celebrating.
“Maybe so,” Chan responded as he swung the mop in wider circles. “You need to call engineering so they can fix the leak.” Wringing the mop into the bucket, he started mopping again. The IT guy stepped over to an internal phone and picked it up, turning his back to Chan.
It was too easy to step away a moment and sticker the server AI had found using Chan’s watch scanner.