AI - Alpha Part 21

He swallowed a bite of his sandwich. "Until what?"

"We exchange this vehicle for other transportation."

"What transportation?"

No answer.

He took a slow breath and let it out through his mouth, a technique Daniel had taught him to ease stress.

"What have you been doing while I slept?"

"Charon installed a medical library in my memory, in case I ever needed to treat him. I've been reading about cardiovascular diseases."

"Because of me?"

"That's right." She paused. "I was wondering how long ago you had your attack?"

"Fifteen months."

"You were seventy-one?" When he nodded, she said, "But that isn't your real age."

That puzzled him. "I was born in 1960. So I'm seventy-two."

"Chronologically, yes. Not physically."

He realized what she meant. "I've had a treatment to counter my aging."

"Nanotech?"

"That's right."

Alpha's gaze took on an inward quality, probably as she reviewed her library. He could have told her

more. He had received the nanomeds in his sixties. They hadn't been medically prescribed, which meant his insurance didn't cover the treatment, and he paid well into six figures for it. He had wanted to ensure he reached a healthy old age with Janice, who had always been in better shape. Had he known she would die first, he wouldn't have bothered with such an exorbitant medicine.

Nanotechnology had developed in a far less spectacular manner than predicted by forecasters. The tiny molecular laboratories the doctors injected into Thomas had a limited ability to repair his cells. They weren't versatile, and the biotech wizards were a long way from developing self-replicating species they considered safe for the body. His had lasted about a year before the last of them decomposed. But they had done their work, giving him a few extra decades of relative youth.

Although he still aged, the treatment had wound back the clock. He looked like a fit, hale man of fifty.

Ironically, his hair helped, that false omen of his supposed long life with Janice. Most people a.s.sociated a full head of hair with youth, even for someone who had gone grey. But he wasn't likely to get another treatment. With nanos so expensive to produce and in limited supply, the procedure required he go through a lengthy application, and a medical board had to okay it. The process was also controversial- who should get it and why?-and would become more so as it grew more effective at lengthening the human life span. Given his heart condition, he doubted any doctor would sign off on it for him now.

Better to delay the aging of someone who had a reasonable probability of maintaining his extended life without expensive care, and who would survive long enough to benefit from the treatment. Thomas had recovered from his heart surgery and in many ways he thrived, but they still considered him a risk.

He had undergone another form of nanomed therapy last year, however, this one covered by insurance.

After his heart attack, the doctors had injected him with nanos that included a niacin module to lower his cholesterol levels, agents to dissolve blood clots and improve circulation, and beta-blockers to reduce his blood pressure and heart rate. The concentration in his body had declined over the past year, and recently Daniel had advised him that he would need to start oral medications in a few months or apply for another round of nanomed treatments.

Alpha waited while Thomas was lost in his thoughts. When he realized he had just been staring into s.p.a.ce, he flushed and focused on her. She showed neither the concern nor the annoyance most people expressed if his attention went elsewhere for a while.

"How serious was your attack?" she asked.

He didn't want to talk about it. But the more she knew and took into consideration, the more likely his survival. "It wasn't so bad." He hadn't died, after all. "I had a coronary angioplasty about an hour after

the attack. They pulled a little balloon through my artery and put in a stent to keep the artery open. They say I responded well and had a good recovery."

"Let me know if you have any more difficulty."

"All right."

The car's androgynous voice came out of the dashboard. "We are approaching the destination."

Alpha turned around and entered commands at the console up front. He leaned forward to see, but she

was working with accelerated speed, too fast for him to follow. Within moments the car settled to the ground. Other than two cones of light from the headlamps, blackness surrounded them. Then Alpha turned off the lamps, leaving them in complete darkness. Only the keening wind outside broke the silence.

Alpha got out and opened the back door for Thomas. As he maneuvered out of the car, she went around to the trunk. He pulled himself up to his feet and held onto the roof to keep his balance. It was hard to see, but he thought they were in a forest. Insects chirped and hummed, and trees rustled as if their leaves were shus.h.i.+ng one another.

Light flared when Alpha opened the trunk. He limped toward her, bracing one hand against the car. The ground was springy with gra.s.s, and fallen leaves crunched under his feet. He inhaled air rich with the scent of pines and deciduous trees. He had always loved such smells, because they reminded him of camping with his sons, Thomas Jr. and Fletcher. Both were grown and had moved away, Tom to work in California and Fletcher as a graduate student in architecture. Standing here, he wondered if he would ever see his children again.

Alpha stepped out from behind the car-with an EL-38 machine gun slung over her shoulder and belts of its serrated bullets crisscrossed on her torso. She had the darter in a holster at her hip and she was holding, of all things, a broom.

"Here." She cracked off the bottom of the broom and tossed him the handle. "Charon kept it for clearing snow."

Thomas grabbed the stick. "This is his car?"

She stood there, her body limned from behind by light from the trunk. When she didn't answer, he said, "Why give me a broom?"

"For a cane. Or a crutch."

He planted the broken end of the handle in the ground and leaned on it. It supported his weight reasonably well. "Where did you get the car?"

No answer. She slammed the trunk and the light disappeared. He suspected Charon had vehicles hidden

in many places for emergency use.

Alpha motioned toward the trees behind him. "Walk."

"Where?"

"Forward," she said dryly.

Thomas realized he was clenching his jaw and tried to stop. He maneuvered around, using his makes.h.i.+ft

cane for support and lurched forward, one clumsy step at a time, half dragging his broken leg. The top

edge of the cast cut into his upper thigh.

Leaves rustled behind him. Glancing back, he could make out Alpha following. She was too far away to reach even if he swung the broomhandle like a club. Obviously she wasn't going to let him lean on her when she was carrying an EL-38; it was one of the few guns that could stop even her. She had no indispensable organs to injure and her "brain" was dispersed throughout her body in filaments, but the EL-38 could liquefy even an android. Why she thought she needed it when he was the only one here, he had no idea, and it didn't bode well for wherever they were headed.

As Thomas's eyes adjusted, he made out his surroundings, mostly large trees without a lot of underbrush. He had no idea where they were, but it seemed far from any well-settled area. He had lived

near D.C. for so many years, he had become inured to the rumble of the city. The mountains had their own night songs, but compared to the growling city, they presided over a vast, powerful silence.

"To your left," Alpha said.

Thomas stumbled when as he changed direction, but he doggedly kept on. He couldn't see the building more than a few feet away. First he noticed the lack of trees. Then he realized he was facing the wall of a structure.

"To your right," Alpha said behind him. "Open the door."

He limped over and tried the k.n.o.b. "It's locked."

"You better move back," she said.

He stepped to the side.

"More. I'm going to shoot."

Thomas backed up along the wall, putting a good amount of s.p.a.ce between himself and the door. He had

no wish to be anywhere near a discharging EL-38. Alpha was barely visible, a dark figure holding a huge gun that glinted in the faint starlight trickling through the trees.

Then she fired.

It was no more than a short burst and a flash of light. It didn't even create much noise, just a m.u.f.fled thudding far quieter than the machine guns Thomas had trained with so long ago. In the inky dark that followed the flash, he couldn't see what it had done.

"Now try," Alpha said.

He limped back to the door-and found it gone, along with about ten square feet of the wall. Only blackness showed beyond.

Thomas wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. "Your gun seems to work."

"Good. Then we can go inside."

Thomas could have sworn she sounded relieved. He felt the same way, but in his case it was because she

gave no indication of wanting to shoot him with the gun. He wouldn't have expected an AI to show anything except what it wanted him to notice, and he saw no purpose in Alpha letting him think she was relieved. If it happened without her intent, it offered yet more evidence her AI had evolved more than his experts believed possible.