Mystical Meat Machines: Chapter Four

a Sci Fi/Cyberpunk Novel

Chapter Four: Insanity in the System (Final Chapter of Book 1)

We all met in front of the Robo Cafe just before dawn. Sequim’s Urbo was double parked on the street next to Fujimura’s. It was quiet and the streets were empty in the soft darkness of the early morning. Stylish chrome streetlights embedded in the wide sidewalks cast a tiny pools of yellow light. The old and battered buildings along the street fought a contrasting battle with the shiny black ultra-modern carbon fiber buildings that ran continuous streams of video images across their surfaces. The Robo Cafe was a mix of old and new with the standard corrugated metal shutter that mirrored its neighbors, but with 3D holographic miniatures in the second story windows that bleeped and blatted out a proximity of the main AI and robot that ran the cafe. “What time does it open up?” Fujimura asked. “Sunrise is in a few minutes. It should be starting its opening cycle soon I would think,” I answered. “Is your Opti picking up anything?” Sequim asked. “No, why what’s up?” “That thing is running scans,” Sequim said pointing at the Robo Cafe.

“Scans? I thought service AI for businesses could only scan the building interior?” Fujimura asked. “Fuji knows more about tech than he lets on,” Sequim said. “They aren’t supposed to, but this one is. It knows we are here.” “Suns up, why the flag doesn’t it open then?” “Let me flick and run my own scan on this bugger.”

While Sequim flicked I went to my Urbo and pulled a pair of Interpol tactical vests and caps. Both looked like typical street wear, but were made of a high tech polymer and Kevlar blend and were resistant to small caliber bullets, knives, and concussive blows equivalent to a Louisville Slugger swung at full speed. Fujimura sniffed when I returned to the sidewalk. He wore his usual black suit, black tie, white dress shirt, all forty years out of date. I assumed he had left his black aviator shades in his Urbo since it was still dark out. “Expecting trouble Cantor?” “Not really, but Sequim’s a consultant. If something does go down protecting him also protects Interpol.” “Like he’d try and sue us,” Fujimura said dismissively. “Ow, shit! Flaggering hell,” Sequim yelled. He had dropped to one knee on the sidewalk and was clutching his head. “You okay?” I asked kneeling beside him. “I think so. That thing hit me with a feedback surge. It’s running Blockware or something.” “Service AI don’t run Blockware good enough to keep you out,” I said.

“Could be a third party doing a remote hack I guess,” Sequim said shacking his head to clear the pain.

“They would still have to be watching us. And again why all the bother to hack a Robo Cafe AI? No, there is something bigger going on here,” I said. “Cantor’s right. You’re murder hack bullshit theory might have some teeth after all. We need to get in that cafe now,” Fujimura said. “Can you stand up Sequim?” “Yeah, just give me another minute. I’m running a diagnostic to make sure nothing in my head got fried.” Fujimura went to his Urbo and rummaged around in his front seat for something. A minute later he emerged again with a small chrome flashlight probably as old as he was. I watched him walk up to a street light wondering what the flag he was up to. He shined the flashlight beam on a small light sensor on the street light and suddenly every metal shutter on the street started rolling up. “How the hell did he do that?” Sequim asked as he Fujimura returned to us. “Old Chinese secret,” Fujimura said smiling. “Sequim can you flick into the rest of these shops and close them again?” I asked. “Sure, give me a second. Diagnostic is coming back good.” Sequim flicked again briefly and all the shops reversed their shutters except the Robo Cafe. The locks in the Robo Cafe door clicked and a small light inside came on. We entered the cafe. It was a throw back to a style popular over 130 years ago with red and white checkerboard table clothes, an old jukebox in the corner, and gold records on the wall. The robotic barista was the size and shape as an adult human, but was sky blue colored and had a simple painted smiley face instead of realistic eyes, nose, and mouth. Robo Cafe had tried multiply versions of their baristas before they opened for business, but found that extremely realistic human-like robots caused anxiety and aggressiveness in 90% of their test subjects. The crocodile in the human brain stem just wouldn’t tolerate the not quite humanness of the AI control robots. Eventually they settled on the cartoon exterior version with a very gentle and soothing voice. This version invoked pleasant childhood memories in most people and the colors had a calming effect. It had an extra eight arms that were mostly out of site behind the counter that allowed it a 360 degree range to reach everything it needed to do its job. The barista seemed to be going through some prep before opening as it arraigned various things behind the bar. I could hear coffee percolating and smell its earthy bitterness filling the cafe. Fujimura had moved to the back of the room and checking out tables in order to give us the best view of the first floor, especially the entrance. “Are you getting anything Sequim?” I asked. “The blocks are still up, but I’m pretty certain there’s no outside third party. It’s all this thing. I’m getting a little freaked here Cantor.” Fujimura heard us talking and came over. Gamma’s “Nothing human” comment came to mind for some reason. “Can one of you run an Interpol Force Stop on this thing’s server behind the bar? That will clear any blocks out for sure. Then I can shut it down if I have to. Then we can pull its chips and scan those directly.” “I’ll do it,” I said. I ran the cafe’s address through my Opti and a list of servers scrolled down. I found the correct one and slaved it. Then I linked it to Sequim. “I’ll reference the face recognition data too and see if I can find a match on this thing,” Sequim said. “Face recognition data?” Fujimura asked. “It’s nothing,” I said trying to keep the anger off my face. I couldn’t believe Sequim had saved the information from City Hall.” Sequim went into a long and deep flick. We could hear the robot’s gears and hydraulics turning behind the bar as it continued it’s morning prep. Fujimura sat down across from me. His face was blank and I couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking or feeling. He scratched his cheek and I saw the leather shoulder holster and black stock of his pistol flash briefly. Sequim came out of his flick, but didn’t speak. “Find something?” Fujimura asked. “Yeah, I’m, I’m still trying to process it, put it together.” “What is it Sequim?” I asked. “This thing’s AI is way more sophisticated than any service bot is supposed to be. We’ll need an Interpol tech team in here for a month at least to untangle all this, I think.” “Get anything on the victim’s?” “Yeah, yeah, it matched right up with the face data I had. It’s been scanning their medical data, looking at their psychological profiles and crossing it with studies on suicidal tendencies. Weird flagggering shit for an AI.” “Anything connected with the Dark Net?” I asked. “That too. It’s built some deep pathways, entry codes I think. That might be how it hacked all that stuff to kill those people” Three loud beeps from the robot sounded from behind the bar and the lights in the cafe all came on. Its sky blue head turned left to right scanning for customers I guessed. “Okay Cantor, you’ve got my attention now,” Fujimura said. “Use your Opti and Interpol overrides to shut it down and contain it. Interpol needs to be on this right,,,” “Flaggering…..,” I yelled. I pushed Sequim to the floor as a cleaver flew from the bot’s outstretched arm right at his head and thunked into the table. From the floor I saw two more long knives in the bot’s arms flash. “Fuji shoot it!” I screamed. Three shots rang out and the bot’s chest and head exploded from Fujimura’s triple tap, but it was still swining its knives over the bar towards Fujimura. “Shoot the server under the bar you dinosaur,” I yelled. A knife flew past Fujimura’s ducking head and shattered the window behind us. The loud roar of Fujimura’s Gloch filled the cafe as he emptied his clip into the bar and counter. The bot’s hydraulics and gears wheezed and sputtered to a smokey stop. We all sat on the floor catching our breath, A thin tendril of black smoke behind the bar drifted to ceiling. “Is that flaggering thing offline?” I asked. “Checking,” Sequim said. I watched Fujimura eject his clip and load a fresh one. He cocked a round into the chamber and aimed at the spot where the server was. “Cantor, use your Opti to call off the Interpol P and S drones and the Rapid Response Teams. We don’t want to get volted,” Fujimura said. I sent a quick message to Interpol advising them of the situation and requested a tech team ASAP. “Jesus flaggering Rasta Christ,” Sequim said coming out of his flick. “Whatever the flag that was it’s gone.” “What?” I asked. “It’s running an error sequence now. Just a regular old service AI that had the shit shot out of it. All that massive code I was reading earlier is gone.” “Gone?” Fujimura asked. “Just some faint link codes to it’s Dark Net access points. That thing is gone and I can’t trace it.” Sunlight was filtering in through the broken window mingling with the smoke that was slowly crawling along the ceiling. I sat there on the floor wondering what the hell this all meant.