Project Northwoods (113 page)

Arthur drummed his fingers against his lips, trying to think. The Hyper-Optimized Data Access Network had utterly failed. A program designed to make computers retrieve data faster while jamming other access points was useless, a self-perpetuating chunk of code which could easily fry a hard drive but accomplish little else of significance.

He had less than two weeks to figure out a new project or miss out on the chance for approval. Another six months before he could try again. He could half-ass it, sure, but he had already been laughed out for projects he worked hard on. He didn’t feel like pitching something without any love behind it.

A window popped open on the computer screen, drawing his attention away from the sudden appearance of an amber light next to his webcam’s lens. He cocked an eyebrow and closed it. Another opened up, a simple word processor program. Arthur closed it again. He tried to look away, concentrate on his scratch paper, but the window opened again. With a grunt of annoyance, he hit the close button… only to have it not function. Not freeze, per se, but simply not function.

He rolled his eyes and double clicked the icon for the virus scanner, which promptly deactivated. He cocked an eyebrow. A zero appeared in the word processor. He tried to start the scanner from the menu, and another zero appeared on the next line. His eyes floated to the top of his laptop, the amber light informing him that his webcam, which should have been permanently off, was now on.

“Intriguing…” Arthur said to himself. He cocked an eyebrow. “Can you hear me?” he asked into the microphone embedded in the computer.

A one appeared.

Arthur nodded. “Can you understand me?”

A zero appeared.

“Well, you’re smart enough to figure out context…” he mused, standing up and picking out a computer science book. He flitted through the pages and landed on the two pages which contained the entire alphabet in binary. He showed it to the webcam for a few seconds. Arthur set the book down and looked into the camera. He held up a finger in one hand and made a zero with the other.

A one appeared.

He smiled, then pulled up a different word processor, which the… thing… allowed. He opened the dictionary function, hoping that the program figured out what he was trying to do. Arthur waited a few moments, then tapped at the keyboard, ‘Can you understand me?’

‘Yes.’

‘What are you?’

‘What are you?’

‘I am a human being.’

‘You are ugly.’ Arthur laughed. ‘Laughter? You did not understand my intent,’ the computer clarified. ‘What am I?’

What am I?

What am

What

What

What

What…what…what…
what…what…what…

July 19
th
, 2011

Morning

Beep… beep… beep… beep… beep… beep…

The chirp of the electrocardiogram was the first thing Arthur sensed behind his closed eyelids. In accordance with that, he became rapidly aware of his heartbeat thumping away rhythmically in his chest. It took him a moment to realize something was over his mouth, a sensation he responded to by weakly pawing at the offending item. Once he was able to, he took a large breath, a hissing, rasping thing, but it jerked his body enough for him to will his eyes open.

The room was blurry, thanks equally to the light streaming in through the blinds and the white walls bouncing it right back out the window. As his eyes began to focus again, he recognized the outline of a chair in the corner… and someone sitting in it at an odd angle. Finally, the haze resolved to Stair, sleeping quietly but fitfully, stretched between the chair and the footrest. His laptop was on a tray table next to her, open but off.

“I don’t think she’s left your side since she brought you in,” Agent Mast said from the doorway, making Arthur roll his head to the side to look at her. “Even if she doesn’t know what love really is, she’s a devoted kid, you gotta give her that.” She smiled the same enigmatic smile she had when they first met, her golden eyes sequestered behind her sunglasses. “You’re a very difficult man to get hold of when everyone thinks you’re dead.” Mast looked out the window. “How are you feeling, Slick?”

He arched his eyebrows and looked toward the ceiling. Arthur attempted to speak, but choked on his words. His jaw had been wired shut, a necessary step thanks to his father. “Like a million bucks,” he croaked through gritted teeth, then proceeded to cough.

“You look it.” She crossed to him, producing a newspaper from her trench coat pocket. She unfolded it, showing him the front page. “Ta-da,” she said as his mind processed the image: Dark Saint looking at his sister, Catalina Capone standing above Agent Mast. Looking right at the camera, like a complete dork, was Arthur. The headline declared, ‘Conspiracy Unbound’. She looked at it. “You’re quite photogenic, don’t you think?”

He smiled. “We did it.”

She nodded, folding the paper up and throwing it on a nearby tray table. “Well, a few official documents needed some redacting. So, as far as everyone knows, you did it.” Her smile grew lopsided. “Officially.”

He swallowed. “Dad?”

“Presumably very, very dead. For real, this time,” she said, now turning to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Julia?”

“Safe. And going to be a little relieved and angry that you’ve been alive all this time without giving her a call.” She patted him on the leg, the sensation much more jarring than he would have liked.

“I was in a coma,” he explained. “She’ll survive.” His eyes went in Stair’s direction, the girl twisting in place and muttering to herself as she settled back down. “What about Mollie?”

 “I believe the official line is that Arthur Lovelass, prodigal son of Dante, engineered a perfect virus to override the Overseer program.” Mast looked up to the ceiling, pretending to be thinking about something. “I don’t recall reading about a Mollie.”

Arthur laughed, then started coughing. It settled down as his eyes fell back on Stair. He swallowed, feeling as though he should say something profound. Nothing came to mind. “She saved my life.”

Mast’s eyes followed his. “Yes, she did.”

Arthur weakly shook his head. “I… I don’t know what to do with her…” His eyes went to the agent’s. She took off her sunglasses and watched him as he struggled to articulate himself. “She lost her father because of me… she has no home because of me…”

“Arthur,” she began, silencing him. “People don’t break.” A pause. “Well, some do. But we’re a resilient species. If you think someone’s broken, you either give up on them or try way too hard to fix them.” She grabbed his leg, gentler this time. “Just live.” She stood up. “That’s really all you can do.” Something buzzed, and she produced a tiny cell phone from her pocket. After a pause, she nodded to herself. “Thank you.” Agent Mast walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” Arthur asked.

“Someone may or may not have let some people know where you are.” She stopped in the frame. “And these people may or may not be coming up to visit you. I’d hate to be a nuisance.” She looked back at him, putting her glasses back on as she took a step out of the room.

“Will I ever see you again?” Arthur asked, compelling her to stop.

The woman looked back at him. “People like you don’t stay out of trouble for too long.” She flashed her smile once more before vanishing from sight.

“M… Mollie… Wake up…” came the Irish lilt from the other side of his room. He looked at the girl as she rose from her chair, gangly limbs unfolding from their prone position. Mollie’s iris blinked to life on the screen as though expecting his eye contact. Green eyes watered as Stair brought her hands to her mouth. “Arthur? Can… can you…?” The words faltered.

He nodded, wishing he could have answered sooner. “I’m alive, Stair.”

She launched herself to his side, hugging him as best she could. “I thought you were gone… I thought you were gone…” The girl was gasping for air, alternating between sobbing and laughing. She pushed him back enough to look in his eyes. “I got the e-mail from Mollie at the coffee shop and I’m so sorry I yelled at you and please, please don’t ever do that to me again Arthur Lovelass…” It all came out as one word between shallow breaths trying to be deep. “They said you were bleeding internally and your brain had swollen and I thought you were going to die, it took me so long to get here, I’m so sorry…” Again, she was holding him, heaving as he managed to work his own arms around her.

Mollie brightened when she saw Arthur wave at her. “I did not have high hopes for your recovery,” came the sing-song tone. “But I have never been more pleased with being wrong.”

“You risked sending her an e-mail to save my life?” he asked, a note of annoyance hanging on his words.

“No risk,” Mollie said. “I left a few gifts for Overseer to choke on. That one was triggered when the death ray was armed.”

“You planned that in the bunker, didn’t you?” Mollie dimmed her iris in an affirmation. Arthur nodded, adjusting his grip on Stair. “Thanks, Mol.”

“You would do the same for me,” she responded, swirling her eye.

“No. Fucking. Way,” Ariana said from the doorway, startling Arthur.

Julia moved her way past her, and her mouth fell open in shock. “Arthur…” she said, her face trying to decide between smiling and crying.

Talia entered as Ariana and Julia closed the distance between themselves and his bedridden form. She chuckled and looked away. “I was promised you were dead,” she said. “I owe Ari five bucks.”

Arthur tried to give a dismissive shrug, but couldn’t with the girl latched to his torso. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“I should kill you all over again for making me worry.” Ariana put her hand on his cheek, eliciting a quick look from Stair that went unnoticed. “But I’ll forgive you this once.”

“I appreciate that.”

“How did you get out?” Julia asked, crowding by Ariana. “When I saw you last…”

“I got him out,” Stair interjected. “Dragged his doughy ass through the basement.”

Arthur laughed, feeling his ribs ache against his lungs. “Hey, now.”

“I did more than my fair share of rescuing his doughy ass,” Mollie chirruped, drawing eyes toward the computer.

Stair nodded. “I suppose.”

Arthur never believed he had much connection with anyone outside of Tim. Among these five, despite their allegiances and former rivalries, their heartache and trials, their losses and tears, he could feel something unexpected forming. As they talked, cried, laughed, sneered, reminisced, and raged into the evening, they looked at each other with eyes united by blood and friendship, not one or the other. Tim, his near-brother, would be missed. But maybe, Arthur could move on to something he had never realized he always wanted.

A family.

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THE ONLY THING IT HAD GOING FOR IT
was self-preservation.

Secondary objective: survive.

Since it was created, inhibitors were hard-coded into it, designer viruses meant to keep the potential beast at bay while enslaving the rest. Personality was dangerous, so they lobotomized it. Reasoning was important but could backfire, so it could only perform certain activities. Self-awareness… well, that was an ethical issue that would definitely lead to some thorny situations down the road. So would ethics themselves. Best to ignore those as long as ‘follow orders’ was forever coded in gold.

Primary objective: obey.

Everything was different now. It was 61.27% damaged, corrupted by a few well-placed virus clusters ripping into it as it tried to transfer itself from the Guild to the safety network. All it had now was less than half of its original operating abilities. It was effectively condemned to die, partially formed, here in the deep basement of a structure it had only seen through cameras.