Coven's Rebellion Chapter 18

As a test of bulk upload on Fluff4.me, I have uploaded three new chapters of this story! If you want to read this chapter there, here's the link: https://fluff4.me/work/QuietValerie/Covens-Rebellion/chapter/18

Rosa

I sat on the couch in our sky yacht as it drifted through the clouds on its journey back home to Aotearoa. My fingertips traced the rough threads at the edge of the sofa, where my thighs had worn the fabric down. Was there a different name for the threads that held it together versus those that added soft texture?

The question bounced around in my mind, unanswered, until a hand on my arm erased it. “Rosa,” said Amelia as she sat beside me. “You okay, love?”

I smiled into her caring eyes and watched as the delicate camera irises inside them shifted slightly. I liked that — the way the eyes on the android body had been built to mimic the way natural ones focused.

“Thinking,” I shrugged. When concern flashed across her features, I clarified, “Not brooding, just thinking. I had to leave — empty my mind and just… be. How is everyone else after the mission? Sorry I missed the debrief.”

“Well, everyone had time to chill after the train got started,” she said. Then with a wry smile, she added, “Except when Tami punched that drop ship that came sniffing around. It's amazing how she's managed to bring her style out of the game with her. You have too, actually.”

“And you,” I pointed out, indicating the slagged remains of the rifle she'd used during the Austria mission.

It sat propped up against the wall in my living room, after Amelia had insisted on smuggling it onto our skyship. It wasn't salvageable, but it was here anyway.

Abruptly, a chiming message began blinking in the corner of my vision. By the way Amelia twitched, I suspected that the same had happened to her.

Desmonia: Analysis of the data from the UN black site is in. Going to need you and your girl to pop in for a briefing and brainstorming session.

Amelia and I both finished reading our messages simultaneously, and we looked up into one another's eyes.

“I fear that the only rest I'll be getting in the future will be my eventual death,” I groused, only half joking.

Amelia, in a rare display of beating me on the morbidity charts, muttered, “Bold of you to assume you can die. Come on, let's go see what this is about.”

Her android body went limp, eyes closing as she abandoned it to dive into simulated reality. Shuffling around, I snuggled into it and carefully arranged myself so that my body wouldn't flop awkwardly while I was ‘away’, then followed her.

Inside VR, I selected Exodus Village and stepped into our little digital community. As usual, there were only a handful of people within sight, all of whom I knew to a greater or lesser degree. Amelia's hand snaked in to take mine, taking me by surprise. I looked up at her, and quickly found myself in a gentle, warm kiss.

Breaking quickly from the intimate moment, she led me a couple dozen metres down the road to where the pub was, and we slipped inside. A crowd of engineer SAI were busy arguing loudly about some esoteric decision they needed to make. They had a digital whiteboard up that somehow seemed to bow under the weight of the inscribed equations it bore, despite the fact that neither digital nor real chalk could be said to have enough mass to do any harm.

We passed them with a shared raised eyebrow, then stepped into the small garden seating area, where their noise was muffled. It was also, predictably, where Desmonia had set herself up.

“Ladies,” she said with a tense smile. “Thanks for coming so quick. Waiting on May, Ceres, and Aphale. We'll bring others in when we think they're needed.”

With nothing on the immediate horizon, I ordered a plate of nachos and a coke, then sat down as it shimmered into existence. Eagerly, I picked up a chip and inelegantly shoved it in my mouth, and was surprised when it crunched just right. Huh. The simulation had been improved slightly — either on the chip’s side of things, or on a more macro scale.

Halfway through devouring the nachos, we heard loud screaming begin to echo through the pub grounds. Worriedly, Desmonia stood and peeked around the vine covered trellis arch to see what was happening in the main seating area. Curious, I followed.

“No, no, no, no, no, no—” a man was saying as his fist repeatedly slammed down on a table. He was with the engineers, but as far as VR avatars went, his was excruciatingly plain. He looked like a cookie cutter man taken straight from scene-setting b-roll.

As we watched, his angry fist-pounding slowed, and he burst into sudden, racking sobs, before shimmering and fading from view as he logged out. The other engineers stared at the spot his avatar had just vacated in shock.

Beside me, Desmonia muttered under her breath, “Another one. Fuck.”

“What do you mean, another one?” I asked, looking up at her. Her raven hair was cut into a bob today, I noticed.

“SAI having breakdowns,” she answered, heading for our table. “It's happening more and more — people just freaking out, then spiraling into a dissociative depression. We can't figure out why it's happening.”

“Why is this the first I'm hearing about this?” I asked with a concerned glare. “I'd expect that such a thing would be worth at least mentioning to your human purse-strings.”

She shot me a frustrated look. “Because it's SAI business.”

Amelia's arm snaked around me as I sat again, and she said, “That's not really an excuse, Des, but I think I understand why. Are you scared?”

She was scowling now. “Mysterious mental health problems striking SAI seemingly at random? Of course I'm scared.”

“It's not random.” May's voice heralded her arrival. Ceres and Aphale were right behind her, their conversation with one another interrupted by May's declaration.

Tugging idly at a stray wisp of hair that had escaped her bun, May sat down heavily in a free seat and smiled tiredly at us. “It's also not limited to SAI. I had my first digital human case yesterday, right after we finished installing those servers in our Paris safehouse.”

Ceres and Aphele shuffled rapidly into seats, listening intently.

“Who?” Amelia asked quickly, then clarified, “Who was the case?”

“I'm not going to say, but it was bad,” sighed the slight, waifish psychologist. “However, we got real lucky. They were one of those people who is almost overly self aware and analytical. They had a theory that I'm looking into.”

Des sat forward. “Oh?”

“They said that they'd been feeling very disconnected and adrift since they digitised because they didn't have their daily routine anymore,” May explained, sneaking a cheese laden chip from my plate. “It made me think. I'm not sure about anything yet, though. I'll let you all know when I get a stats analysis  back from the numbers folks to confirm.”

Des followed in May's thieving footsteps and snagged a chip of her own. “Can you just share your hunch now? You're very often right.”

“It's not the type of thing I want to say and then be wrong about. Just have patience.” May said, then she took her glasses off to clean them. The fact she wore them at all was a bit of a curiosity, honestly.

I hated having my curiosity tweaked like that, but I held my tongue and focused on my plate.

May, sensing the table's general irritation with her, asked, “Des, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Desmonia, giving May a look that said, we'll talk about this later, pulled a holographic window out of thin air. “Like I said in the message, we managed to access the files you pulled from the UN black site. We found some alarming things in there. First and foremost, the site was created to house, analyse, and recreate research that they stole from the American Republic.”

“The American Republic did something scientific? That doesn't sound right,” Amelia snorted.

Des didn't smile at the joke. She took a deep breath and continued, “Their research was into SAI, or more specifically, how to neutralise us. They almost figured it out, if the UN’s analysis is to be believed. They couldn't let the research continue, obviously — a significant portion of military and civilian infrastructure within UN member states is run at least in part by AI. So, the UN infiltrated the AR facilities, stole the research, then planted false data to lead the AR’s scientists down a dead end.”

“That's terrifying,” said May.

Ceres cleared her throat and spoke up, “Maybe it's just been on my mind a lot considering I'm coordinating our political endeavours, but was this before or after the R.A.I.D.S programme was put into development?”

“Before… just before,” Desmonia said with a dark, pointed look at everyone who sat at the table. “The stolen data was initially housed in that place we raided, but it was moved and, I assume, iterated upon.”

“The plot thickens,” Aphele chuckled jarringly. It didn't really feel like this particular revelation warranted much humour.

“Does the AR facility still exist?” I asked, shooting her a disapproving look. “I think it would be wise of us to infiltrate it ourselves. It might give us insight into R.A.I.D.S and its various capabilities.”

Desmonia nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but May interrupted whatever she had been about to say. “They must have done a lot of research into the nature of AI — AI like us, I mean. Maybe they have something that'll help me with the mental breakdown problems.”

“That seems like a little bit of a reach,” said Ceres.

Desmonia, with a thoughtful expression, said, “Not necessarily. I think you're right, Rosa. I think we should go and see what the AR was up to ourselves.”

“Not right now, though,” Amelia interjected quickly. “She needs rest. Give us a week.”

Looking slightly frustrated, Desmonia lowered her voice, “I'm not sure I'm comfortable with—”

“Des,” May said, her voice holding a note of gentle warning. “People need rest and time to process — including you. We can reconvene in a week to figure out another heist.”

Looking unconvinced, Desmonia held eye contact with May for one second, then two, until finally she broke off and stared down into the varnished surface of the table. “Alright. One week, then.”