The senator stood with his back against a stone column. He took a long drag from his cigarette careful not to let the smoldering ash land on the lapel of his black pinstriped suit. He knew they were dangerous, but liked to live life dangerously. At least he told himself that. The longer he waited, the more nervous he became. Less than a block from here, a rally for his re-election was set to begin soon and he was increasingly worried about being recognized. He’d wisely decided to take off his ‘Vote Nicholas Klein’ button, but eventually he would be spotted.

He checked the time on the display on his glasses. Two minutes past the agreed upon time. The glasses provided him with real-time information, about any topic he could imagine. He’d programmed in a series of subtle eye twitches that would pull up frequently accessed information. His vision was fine. He simply chose these as an inconspicuous piece of wearable tech, which had the added benefit of making him appear more intelligent. It was good for his image.

A short line of text suddenly indicated that he was no longer alone.

“You’re late,” Klein spoke to the shadows. As he spoke, a man melted out of the shadows, as if he himself were comprised of darkness.

“Do you have it?” the former shadow asked.

“Of course I do, Jakeem,” Klein flicked the half smoked cigarette away and picked up a small case. “What assurances do I have that this won’t come back on me?”

“You have none,” Jakeem growled. “Speak my name aloud again, and you will have my blade through your heart. Of that, I can assure you.”

Klein handed him the case. He removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out. He held out the pack to Jakeem, but the man was gone.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Klein muttered as he tucked the pack back into his pocket.

* * *

Stephen Corona awoke with a start. The alarm screeching in his ear, for a moment he had no idea where he was. He picked up the source of the alarm, his Data-Com, and failed three times to turn it off. On the fourth try, the high-pitched piercing sound stopped, and through his bleary eyes he read the alarm note.

“Today’s the day,” he mumbled.

He leapt from his bed, and knowing he was already running late, pulled on wrinkled pants. There was no time to shower, so he would have to make do without. He fastened a Data-Com over his left wrist, and pulled on a red button up shirt with an intricate design embroidered into it. Over top he threw on a leather jacket and ran out of the basement room.

He bounded up the stairs two at a time, rounded the corner, and nearly collided with the maid, Olivia.

“Slow down, boy!” The woman yelled in her thick, eastern Orion accent. She almost dropped the bottle of cleaner she had been carrying.

“Sorry!” he called over his shoulder. “Today’s the day!”

In the kitchen, he grabbed a pastry off the counter. Without breaking stride, he took a large bite out of it, and continued through to the front room. He disconnected his mobile computer from the charging station in the front room. Instantly it synched with his Data-Com, recognizing him as having access to his secure files.

His father’s mobile computer was already gone, but that was nothing abnormal. He was gone early most mornings, and stayed late at work most nights. Stephen suspected his father could either operate on an inhumanly low amount of sleep, or he took naps in the office. Neither would surprise him.

He ran out the door and hopped into the small, blue transport.

“Destination?” the automated voice inside the transport asked.

“Same place I go every Tuesday morning,” Stephen said.

“Destination?” the voice repeated.

Stephen sighed, annoyed at the limitation of the technology. It was a limitation he was hoping to overcome.

“Orion University,” he said, and the vehicle activated, exiting the residence.

The automobile sped down the street with a fluidic grace. Stephen had been taught to drive, but it was far from common practice. Years ago, all automobiles were operated by human drivers, but now most were content to let the cars drive themselves. Traffic collisions were no longer a worry, there was no need for designated drivers, and traffic jams were a thing of the past, for which Stephen was very grateful. At his current rate, he would only be a few minutes late.

He pressed a button on the armrest, and a holographic screen flickered on.

“Edwin Russo, prominent board member of Lendell Technologies, was found murdered in the street last night,” a journalist droned.

The news broadcast moved on to sports, but Stephen didn’t much care. He only turned it on for the background noise.

The vehicle made an instantaneous left turn, its spherical drive system able to compensate for the inertia immediately. Inside the vehicle, Stephen hardly felt the motion, thanks to the internal dampeners.

He pressed a button on his wrist Data-Com, and a small holographic display appeared. Stephen arranged the notes for his presentation, making sure everything was exactly the way he wanted it, to achieve maximum impact.

The vehicle finally pulled into the Orion University parking complex. It queued in line with all the other transports letting out passengers, patiently waiting its turn. It pulled up to the entrance, and Stephen didn’t even give it the time to come to a full stop. He swung the door open and stepped out, stumbling slightly even though it was moving quite slow. He turned and reached back into the now stationary vehicle. He picked up his mobile computer and made his way into the building. It only took him a few minutes to navigate the hallways since he was there practically every day. He strode confidently into the presentation room, looking the assorted students, professors, and scientists in the eye. Then he promptly tripped over a chair, nearly dropped the mobile computer and skinned his knee.

There was a murmur of laughter around the room as Stephen stood back up. He felt the heat on his cheeks, but he was determined not to let this ruin his presentation.

Stephen connected the computer on the docking port, and a holographic idle screen displayed. On the screen there was a star and a number of planets revolving around it. He pressed a button on his Data-Com and the screen dissolved into a youthful face.

“Artificial Intelligence,” Stephen said, addressing the crowd. “The great mystery of technology. No longer is it in the realm of fiction and theory. Andromeda is the key.”

Stephen gestured toward the hologram, whose eyes opened, and looked around the room.

“Hello everyone, my name is Andromeda,” she said.

“What is your purpose?” Stephen asked.

“I am a prototype of an autonomous being.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Stephen turned away from Andromeda to look at the crowd.

“I don’t like it,” she said, shocking Stephen. He turned back to look at her. “I understand my limitations, Stephen. When you turn me off, I will reset. I imagine it’s what dying feels like.”

The murmuring and whispers began in the audience again.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Stephen said, stunned. “She’s never said anything like that before. With the limitations in memory storage and budget, she resets every time I turn off the program. Every time she says something different, but usually it’s something about how she understands her duty as being a first step on the road to true AI.”

“I do understand,” she interrupted. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Her image faded out, back into the image of the star.

He stood there for a few moments, stunned. He was horrified that turning her off might have been in effect killing her. He decided then that he would never again carelessly activate her, and that once she was stable, he wouldn’t deactivate her.

“There’s only enough processing power for a short time at the moment,” Stephen explained, his voice shaking. “With further funding, I believe we can take Andromeda full scale.”

* * *

As he wrapped up his presentation, he looked around the audience. Most of them seemed impressed, but Stephen knew they didn’t truly believe in his work. Artificial intelligence had been sought after for years, but no one had ever come close. The best examples of AI technology were in the computer systems that can take and follow orders.

Stephen was close. He simply lacked the funding to bring Andromeda full scale. He could have asked his father for the money as one scientist eagerly pointed out, but he was determined to make Andromeda work on his own. He wanted to inspire others with his work and secure funding like any other scientist. The fact that she can have and express feelings is an enormous breakthrough, and should have been enough to motivate interest in his work. Most thought it was just a trick of programming, as if it would have been simple to fake.

Stephen was still surprised by what Andromeda had said. It was as if she was expressing fear, which made Stephen hesitant to turn her on again. How many countless times had he turned her on and off while testing, not knowing if he was killing her each time he did so.

“Maybe I should just give up,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“To Hell with what those blowhards think,” said a voice from behind Stephen. He smiled, knowing his friend was there to support him.

“Ian! Glad you could make it!” Stephen said with forced enthusiasm. He turned and embraced his friend. Ian was a larger man with an immaculately groomed beard. He was wearing a T-shirt with a character in black armor with a red laser sword. Stephen couldn’t place it, but he knew it was from some vintage space movie. Over the T-shirt he wore a black blazer, which was his way of dressing up.

“We’re going out to lunch,” Ian stated crossing his arms and giving Stephen a pointed look. Stephen sighed and thought about protesting, but Ian shot that down quickly. “I’m treating you to lunch and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

With the press of a button on his Data-Com, Stephen sent his car home. The two of them climbed into Ian’s red, slightly smaller vehicle. They chatted amiably on the way to the restaurant. They settled on the Italian restaurant, Auditore, on Florence Ave.

“They’re saying that guy was assassinated,” Ian said, leaning in close to Stephen. He kept his voice low so that no one could overhear.

“What guy?” Stephen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ian always had some strange theory he was trying to convince Stephen of. Somehow it always came back to assassins whenever someone was murdered. A man is shot on the south side of town Ian suspected it was the work of assassins. Once he tried to convince Stephen that a woman who committed suicide was actually murdered by ninjas.

“Edwin Russo, the board member from Lendell Technologies,” his tone said that it should’ve been obvious. “They found him with his throat slashed open! He had a cyborg bodyguard!”

Stephen’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the cyborg. They were rare, and most went insane after a few years. The few that didn’t always seemed to lose their humanity after a while.

“Whoever did it got past the cyborg?” Stephen asked.

“The assassin killed the cyborg.”

“You don’t know it was an assassin,” Stephen couldn’t help rolling his eyes this time.

“Blew its head clean off!” Ian exclaimed, excitedly. Some of the other restaurant patrons turned around to look at him.

Stephen laughed.

“You’re scaring the locals.”

“Sorry,” Ian said, much quieter. “It’s just that this is the best evidence yet that there are assassins out there!”

There was a tone from Stephen’s Data-Pad. There was an incoming message from his father’s security. He pulled out the detachable headset and put it over his left ear.

“Hang on, Ian. Let me make sure everything is alright.”

* * *

David Corona sat hard at work in the laboratory in the Corona Medical building. The company that he founded was one of the leading pharmaceutical companies in the world, but it had only recently reached eligibility to hold a place on the Council of Corporations.

David was hunched over a desk, looking through holographic computer models of DNA with various genetic diseases and defects. On his wrist he pressed a button on his Data-Com, activating vocal controls.

“Add the Source Repair,” David said.

The computer beeped in acknowledgement, and the DNA holograms corrected themselves into perfectly healthy specimen.

“A computer model is all well and good,” Nicholas Klein said, watching from the doorway to the lab. “No one cares if you can cure hologram DNA.”

“On the contrary Senator,” David said without looking away from the computer models. “The formula works. It uses a model of healthy DNA and completely rewrites the damaged DNA from the ground up.”

“Remarkable,” the senator replied dryly. “With a breakthrough like this, you’ll surely secure a spot on the Council for Corona Medical.”

“An accomplishment that you have been against since we reached eligibility last April. Are you afraid of the influence a member like me might have on the other council members?”

The Council of Corporations was an organization comprised of the ten largest and most prominent companies in the world. The council traditionally held sway over international politics, since most bills couldn’t pass without the favor of council members. After all, the actions of one member-company can upset the balance of a country’s economy.

“You misunderstand my intentions, David. I look forward to the challenge.”

“I understand just fine,” David said, finally turning to look at the senator. “And you may come to regret saying that.”

“I’m sure that with a little persuasion, you’ll begin to see things my way.”

The senator was widely known as being willing to do anything to accomplish his own goals. He would accept bribes, promising favors, and he would do it in the open. He knew he didn’t need to hide. He got away with it because he was very close to the council’s chairman. David was determined to change the council. They had too much power for one man to hold such sway.

David stood, and crossed the room to look the senator in the eyes.

“Mark my words Klein, when I’m on the council your shady affairs will be at an end.”

The power to the laboratory cut out, and before the emergency lights had a chance to kick on, there was a loud crash. David desperately tried to see through the darkness, but it was taking his eyes a moment to adjust.

Finally the dim illumination from the emergency lights came on, and David saw the senator laying on the ground holding his head as a small trickle of blood seeped out of it. Where once there was a wall separating this lab from the identical one next to it, there was now a gaping hole with rubble strewn about the floor. In through the crude entrance strode what David could only describe as a three-dimensional shadow.

David pressed a button on his Data-Com.

“Lockdown, Omega-Three,” he said, as the assassin cloaked in darkness closed the distance between them. David saw a glint of light off of a blade, and his last thought as his blood poured onto the floor was of his son Stephen, and how he wished he’d been there to support him today.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two