Page 134 of Coldwire
“It’s nothing unreasonable,” Nik replies. “The three files are purely data, so they can be stored downcountry or upcountry. At least we’re certain the third one won’t be encrypted because it’ll already be loaded and ready to go upcountry.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question about how it ended up there.”
He pulls his laptop closer. Acts like he needs to concentrate on his screen. “File storage diversity.”
I bristle. The armored van bumps up against a series of rocks on the road. We jostle, the wires and disks clanging at the back, but Blare continues sleeping.
“Prepare me, Nik,” I say evenly. “Or else we’re doomed to fail.”
“No.”
I think I’ve misheard for a moment. That surely he wouldn’t be difficult for the sake of it.
But that’s exactly what he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I said no. Worry about getting us up there. Then we can talk about what we’re looking for.”
“This is absurd.” At this point in time, it can’t be that Nik doesn’t trust me yet. We have had too many close calls, too many mutually beneficial exchanges, for his reluctance to be anything personal. It also can’t be that he’slosthis trust in me. If he suspected the tracker in my boot, he would have long pried it out, long confronted me about it and threatened my life. “You can’t possibly believe I’m better off in the dark.”
Nik’s gaze shifts over, as hard as steel. He does believe it, that look tells me. He believes it enough to stand by his answer.
“Remember,” he says, “that you still don’t know what happened to cause your memory loss.”
I stop. Finally, he acknowledges that my void of memories hassomething to do with our current undertaking. This is the first admission I’ve gotten from him that confirms I was here, I knew him, somethinghappened.
“What do you mean?” I ask. Each word comes delicately. Like I could scare him off if I ask something without removing the sting first. “That I got into trouble because of these answers?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.” I keep pushing. “Whether or not I remember my last time in Kunlun won’t change where we go now.”
“Or maybe,” Nik says, “you’ll refuse to go if you know.”
Again, the image of what awaits at the end of this task flashes before my mind. Line after line of diligently trained soldiers. A capture team won’t be enough. They’re going to bring more numbers if they’ve traveled this far. Lights beaming down on us, Nik’s every angle surrounded.
I can’t back out. I can’t.
“Are we doing something morally evil?” I ask. I want him to say yes.
“No,” he answers in an instant.
“Hurting anyone?”Say yes. Make my duplicity worthwhile.
“The opposite. It’s supposed to help people.”
Then either something doesn’t add up, or he’s not telling me the truth.Forget it.I turn to face the front again.
The van drives into rougher terrain. I cross my arms and my legs, glaring daggers at the red dot on the map. For several minutes I clear everything from my mind save the present moment. I will not think about Kunlun. I will give no consideration to what happens after.
Then I feel a presence behind me, and I glance up. Nik has come to hover at my shoulder. He sighs when our eyes meet. Reluctantly, so much so that I can see him physically fighting to lift his arm despite his displeasure, he passes me a handheld. It already has a briefing loaded on it, low resolution and clearly copied from someone else’s device, markedCONFIDENTIAL.
“You asked what this program is,” Nik says. “It’s called Project Wit. Memory backups were left in Upsie and Threto. There’s one more file in Kunlun, in the creator’s house.”
I swipe through the pages. Before I’ve fully understood what exactly I’m seeing on the page, Nik says:
“Together, it’s a creation of sentient AI.”
