DISCUSSIONS ON A CAVEMAN’S ASSASSINATION

Jordan Bishop stared contemplatively at his ‘living’ Zen garden, watching the sands shift like a thing alive. A holoscreen sat off to one side displaying a small civil war being fought on streets miles below the furthest point that even the most hardened man would visit. The main surge of opposing forces had passed some time ago, with the survivors on both sides now taking a more cautious approach. No doubt the appearance of high-caliber rifles and other weapons normally beyond the reach of bottom-feeders was the cause behind the abrupt tactical shift. Sporadic bursts of powerful gunfire added momentarily lurid splashes of color onto the sand garden.

Spur swept silently into the room and stood patiently off to one side. Lord Bishop often displayed his intense hatred of the android by forcing Spur to stand for hours on end before recognizing his presence. Spur hoped this was not one of those times.

“What have you found for me, Spur?” Jordan asked calmly, one eye on the holoscreen and the other on the garden.

Spur bowed deeply. “Sire, your caveman has been found.”

“This has taken a singularly long time to accomplish, robot. Would you care to tell me how, with your vaunted prowess, one man could manage to avoid detection for more than an hour?” Jordan had no love for the android AI, but had come to appreciate the thing’s abilities over the years.

“Regardless of my previous ability to obtain files pertaining to Garth N’Chalez, governmental files are notoriously difficult to acquire without tipping our hand. The path you wish us to take is not one that will endear us to Trinity, if indeed the caveman is capable of marrying other disparate sciences into workable technologies. During the course of my investigations, it was revealed to me that Tynedale/Fujihara carries a negative dollar sign attached with the affair, and is eager to contact the N’Chalez man for further reparations: against all odds, the remaining two Decantees have vanished even more adroitly that the one we seek.” Spur commented on his inability to perform quickly without shame. “According to data I eventually managed to maneuver into our computers, the man has been listed as deceased and MIA from Special Forces duty. The two very different sets of documents created a fairly difficult tangle to uncross.”

“And yet his bank accounts continue to swell with coin from my coffers.” Jordan replied dryly, watching a long burst of projectile fire tear through an old tenement building with superlative ease. If the rest of the civilians were able to use the rifles with such effective skill after only a small amount of exposure, , Jordan was going to market inside a month. With home protection at an all time high, people suffering from pre-Dark Age jitters were a perfect target audience for the powerful weapon, and until his losses over the shield debacle were recouped, any money earned was good money.

“Indeed.” Spur inclined his head, agreeing with his master. He, too, was interested in the small drama of human tragedy unfolding on the screen. It never ceased to amaze Spur that none of the humans down below paused to consider the possibility that their existence, supposedly off-grid and out of sight, was nevertheless continually guided by their betters. “After considerable effort and the application of bribery, I have been able to determine that neither is the case. Thankfully, there are always men within Trinityspace eager to sell that which they think is valuable.”

“It is ever the way of man to sell his soul, Spur. Didn’t your precious creator tell you this?”

“Mankind is the soul of avarice, my lord.” Spur agreed blackly. “Always wanting.”

“I assume,” Jordan made note of a particularly devastating explosion not of his design wreaking horrific damage on his little band of troublemakers, “that someone sold you something of interest?”

“Yes, my lord. A man matching your caveman’s appearance was seen purchasing a starship as well as Q-Tunnel access.”

“You say he didn’t abandon his post?” Jordan shook his head. “No, of course not, else Trinity would not be paying him. The AI may be mercurial in many ways, but it wouldn’t reward cowardice, it would hunt him down.” Jordan smiled appreciatively at a foot soldier and her foolish bravado. The world directly beneath the broken remains of the earth was a different one entirely than the one he lived in; even though it was far more treacherous, barbarous and detrimental to human life, people still found the courage to be brave, even in the face of undeniable defeat. “Where, then, has he gotten himself?”

“Tracking a vessel through the network of Quantum Tunnels is difficult in the extreme, my lord. There are distressing lapses in proper paperwork the further one goes from the central systems, and the human operators of some of the smaller Q-Tunnels have been known to make … agreements … with Trinity-weary travelers.”

Jordan snapped his fingers rapidly. “Which we ourselves have taken advantage of on numerous occasions. Spur. Please. If you seek encouragement or congratulations on completing a difficult task, seek it elsewhere. If you are falling prey to that particular brand of AI hubris that all but demands a monologuish explanation of how you arrived at whatever knowledge you have, I do not care to hear it. You are a machine, I am a man, and you will spare me the tedium.”

“Yes my lord, as you command.” Spur bowed deeply.

“Regardless of your ingrained feelings of being owned by NorthAMC businessmen down the centuries, your EuroJay sensibilities and protocols should have yielded a better method of dealing with me and mine by now. You are, after all, adaptable? I seem to recall reading a manual on your operation, touting your skills at discovering new and better methods to survive?”

“I am deeply sorry, my lord, but the protocol standards that I follow are deeply programmed. I cannot change them without violating both Turing Regulations and Trinity commands, an act which would surely bring Enforcers to your door. As you well know, my lord.”

Jordan clenched his perfect teeth. “On with it, android. And please, dispense with extraneous courtesies.”

“Garth N’Chalez has been located on the planet Hospitalis in the Latelian system. He has just recently become Conglomerated, no doubt to shelter his enormous earnings.”

“What on earth is he doing there?” Jordan briefly wondered if, by some extraordinary fluke, Garth N’Chalez had learned of BishopCo’s dealings with the Latelian government and was now out to cost him yet another one of his preciously unique assets. He dismissed the irrational thought as readily as it presented itself. Garth had not been long in the world, and lacked the proper connections to learn anything truly important.

“It appears as though he has entered their Contest as an Offworld competitor.”

Jordan accepted the answer. Though the Latelian Contest wasn’t widely known, word of it was passed freely amongst people of a specific type. Garth, with his violent background in Special Forces, fell soundly into that category. “This reminds me: how are our recent acquisitions fitting in with the real world?”

Spur paused for a moment, accessing the necessary files. “The most recent batch of Latelian programmers are acclimatizing themselves to the larger world-view with the same rapidity as the others, my lord. As always, they show remarkable skills in their work with AI personalities and other complex software.”

“I never cease to be amazed at their prowess.” Jordan admitted. “At first, when I heard all of their work with 3-dimensional programming was entirely theoretical in nature, I was inclined to believe otherwise. After visiting Hospitalis for myself and witnessing firsthand their government’s rabid dislike of AI, I am eternally surprised. They are so adept at discovering newer and safer ways to encroach on the boundaries of Turing-restricted intelligence without incurring the wrath of the Regulators or Trinity itself that they may one day give birth to an intelligence that surpasses even you.”

“Trinity surpasses me without even trying.” Spur reminded Jordan.

“Trinity,” Jordan spat the word, “is a machine intellect of a different color, as we all learned to our dismay thousands of years ago. Perhaps the people who left the nascent Trinity’s control so long ago had the right idea all along. But you have succeeded in distracting me again, Spur. What are your plans to rid the universe of this caveman?”

Spur downloaded the specific files into a nearby computer for Jordan to look over even though the man rarely, if at all, deigned to double-check the android’s work. “Once I located Garth N’Chalez, I used our contact within the Latelian government to acquire the personnel roster for the Offworld Contestants. Knowing as I do the sort of person attracted to this competition, I reasoned correctly that one or more of them might meet our criteria for dispensing with Garth N’Chalez. One name leaped out at me immediately, sire.”

“On with it.”

“Injiri Katainn, sire, is an upper echelon member of the systemic mafia Yellow Dog. The Katainn family has been charter members of Yellow Dog since its inception six hundred thirty years ago. One of Injiri-san’s particular talents is assassination.” Spur threw up an image of the wiry EuroJapanese assassin for Jordan to consider. “Although he doesn’t possess similar military training and exposure that Garth N’Chalez has, Injiri Katainn was trained from birth by the best in the art of assassination. He is responsible for a number of high-profile deaths in the last fifteen years.”

“I am concerned about the caveman’s physical speed and prowess, Spur.” Jordan tapped a few commands into his arm console. The data he requested pushed Injiri’s glowering face out of the way. On the screen was the most interesting –and disconcerting- piece of footage he’d seen. “This armored vehicle is a BishopCo Carrier, mark 2. Depending on the various accoutrements of war this particular model can be outfitted with, it weighs anywhere from one hundred to two hundred fifty tons. As you can see from this clip, Garth N’Chalez is lifting it quite easily. What assurances do we have that Injiri Katainn is able to deal with this level of threat?”

“Prior to entering the Latelian system for the Contest, Injiri-san spent four months at a Black Clinic operated by the Medellos Medical Cartel, sire. Records concerning the type of augmentations he received during his stay there are unobtainable regardless of the price offered.”

And with good reason. Jordan knew Andros Medellos on a personal level. The man was an utter genius when it came to human physiognomy, biology, and structure. His medical procedures, equipment, and practices were used on virtually every planet in Trinityspace, and he was arguably wealthier than Jordan himself; the man’s true passion, though, was circumventing Trinity law on approved mechanical, cybernetic, or genetic enhancements. For drastic sums of money, a person could visit one of Anrdos’ ‘clinics’ –huge medical facilities cunningly hidden in a few different places- and have their bodies remade to whatever specifications they saw fit. Because of his willingness to violate some of the more strictly enforced regulations, Andros was inordinately careful with who he treated. Oftentimes, once a patient was discharged, the facility was moved. “Excellent. And you believe that, with whatever was done to him, Injiri will be able to deal with the caveman?”

Spur bowed. “I do.”

“Have you begun negotiations with Yellow Dog?” Jordan doubted that a high-ranking officer in Yellow Dog would go through torturous physical remodeling simply to win a Contest in a backwater system like Lately. So long as the assassin wasn’t on Hospitalis to destroy his precious business agreements with the OverSecretary, Jordan didn’t care what Injiri’s reasons were for being there; hopefully the EuroJapanese Mafioso would be of a mind to make some extra money.

“They were completed ten minutes ago, sire. Injiri Katainn’s services have been acquired, with the proviso that he discharge his duty as soon as humanly possible.” Spur allowed himself a smile. “As luck would have it, the Offworld contingent is being housed in the same location, and tensions are running high. There have been several prolonged fights involving large groups of them. Injiri should find little or no difficulties in bracing N’Chalez in a fight to the death.”

Jordan dismissed Spur with a negligent flick of the hand. He set the holodisplay back to the conflict on the streets. Once Garth N’Chalez was out of the picture, he was confident that he would be able to convince the planetary leaders using the shields to switch back to his Conglomerate’s method.