With the help of an oversized vintage hoodie stolen from Hortensia's apartment and Patricia's Cheshire counter-surveillance tech data shard, the pair were able to traverse three sectors while avoiding apprehension. Considering the way his initial escape had gone, Chillard saw this as a demonstrable improvement to his situation. As they drew closer to Patricia's safe house, she was of a different mind entirely.
"I will have to check to confirm, but I believe Mastermind-308 is controlling over seventy percent of stationwide functionality. Coupled with his blatant disregard of a station official's request to connect with the true Core AI, I believe he has either usurped stewardship of the station or will within the next four hours." Patricia's rapid speech and even faster mental leaps were dizzying.
Despite his research and training for this mission, the felarnian made him feel like less than a novice.
"Might this all be the act of a rogue super thinker, unshackled and out of control?" he ventured.
His people had never trusted thinking machines. A brain they could not touch with mind-work was a threat to the xnean xnarn people. Human history was a historical screenshot of what could happen if such beings were allowed to flourish unchecked. What the Armada feared most was the weaponized use of such beings against their mighty fleet of battleships.
"So... many... ships," Patricia said, her thoughts slowing for the first time since they watched the clones pour into Hortensia's apartment complex. "The Xnarn Armada can't possibly have that many operational battleships. It would dwarf the rest of the CGG fleets combined."
They lock eyes and when he doesn't blink, her hackles raise.
"As a special diplomat, I am privy to information other intelligence agencies can not be allowed to learn."
He doesn't know why he freely shared such damaging information with her, but a part of him instinctively knew she could be trusted with it. His training kicked in there, as they walked down a side avenue towards the ship's unpopulated interior. Was he letting himself be manipulated by an extremely cunning enemy intelligence officer? Constant scans of her surface thoughts told him that she had no affiliations with known Earth Conglomerate organizations or Felarnian Hunts. But what if that was all just finely crafted lies? He'd caught glimpses of her genius-level intellect. Could she be out manipulating him?
"I can see the logic of keeping such a force a secret. Too many nations would see it as a threat to their safety and take efforts to do something about it." She pulled out her datapad, but stopped herself from replacing the battery she'd removed to keep the Core AIs and their seeker programs from finding them. "To answer your question: I don't think Mastermind-308 has been unshackled. I know an unshackled super thinker and she is quite lovely. Mastermind-308 has a certain level of freedom we aren't used to seeing in common AI, but he hasn't shown any unique traits that can't be explained."
"So you're saying all of this is within his design parameters?"
"I'm fairly certain it is. All that we've seen is within the wartime parameters of the Core AIs integrated within warships, battlestations, and military installations."
"And despite the outward appearance, Station-Z11221 is an experimental wartime installation," Chillard continued, reading her thoughts as easily as his own.
"A wartime installation placed on the edge of EC space, near the raiel border where no one would look." She shoved her hands in her pockets to avoid the urge to consult her datapad. Chillard had never known someone so attached to their technology. "We still need to find out the purpose of this experiment."
"Wait." Chillard stopped in front of a shuttered retail building, grabbing her arm to bring her to a halt. "We're talking about statistics and parameters, but ignoring the most important thing. It looks like Mastermind-308 can exercise control of the maintenance clones and the security personnel. That has to be unique. My intel has never mentioned anything like this."
The mannequins posing in the storefront window modeled the current trend of station attire. Their featureless faces lacked the eyes to stare accusingly at Chillard, but this didn't seem to hinder them. The emptiness of visages reminded him of the minds of the guards. One moment they were as diverse as the many peoples of the station, then gone, replaced with a great quiet. It was as if Mastermind-308 had wiped them away, turning them into clean slates for him to chisel his own face. His head pounded as he thought of the implications. Patricia's thoughts were no less troubled, but for different reasons.
"You've seen this before," Chillard said slowly. His mind-work tentatively swept over her conscious thoughts. "A rogue state using advanced technology. Why doesn't the EC have records of such an enemy? A pale garden with their roots in everything."
Patircia let him see who she believed was the greatest threat to galactic peace. He saw an image of a massive army, like blades of grass all wearing the same face. A threat no one seemed to know about, not even the CGG's greatest network of spies, the Xnean Special Diplomats. The pounding in his head became more consistent.
"It... It shouldn't be possible. Nothing this big nor this dangerous can hide from The Armada's many eyes."
"Not unless it is hidden beneath the surface with roots buried within the Armada as deeply as we believe they are dug into the Earth Conglomerate."
"I don't like what any of this implies," Chillard said, rubbing his temples. As a special diplomat, his overriding imperative was to monitor all threats to The Armada.
"Neither do I." Patricia resumes walking. "Until we reach the security of my safehouse, we're still in danger."
"How does this rogue state tie into Mastermind-308 and Project: CTRL?" Chillard wondered.
He falls in step beside her and the two enter another residential area. The apartment complexes and storefronts seem unaffected by the desolation spreading throughout the station. The sector bustles with activity. Among the throng of people, mostly humans with sprinklings of other species, no one gave them a second glance. Slowing her pace to appear more casual, they blend in among the locals.
"I think we should have a look at these detention facilities before we leave," Chillard said. "It might give us a glimpse into Mastermind-308's mind."
"I can't deny my curiosity either." She pats the datapad at her hip.
Chillard hesitated to use his own device. Despite his efforts to keep it off the public network, he had no doubt it would be an easy beacon for the AI to track. His technical knowledge wasn't enough to prepare him for this operation. Mastermind-308 was equipped with capabilities beyond anything Chillard had trained for. It adapted fast and coopted resources to augment its suite of functions. The AI was like a predator on the hunt. He had Chillard's scent and hunted tirelessly. The machine wars of Earth's past were brutal campaigns fought against artificial minds even smarter, even more dangerous. A shiver ran up his spine.
He detected a slight crack in Patricia's on steely facade. This was her first solo field mission and theory was proving very different from practical application. In this they were the same.
A loud whistle pierced the sounds of healthy humanity, stopping everyone in their tracks. The sound lanced through Patricia's heightened senses like sharp needles into the backs of her eyes. Linked through their mind pact, Chillard stumbled and nearly fell from the sudden influx of sensation. Her grip under his arm was the only thing that kept him from falling over. The people on the streets looked around, bewildered by the sudden audio intrusion. Chillard had to close off his mind to keep the combined panic from overwhelming him.
Their datapads, the displays in storefront windows, and the billboards advertising station apparel and activities, all became blank blue screens. Transfixed by the strange unfolding event, people and vehicles dawdled. When security chief Tosef Austberg stepped into view, he had everyone's undivided attention.
Amiable salutations, inhabitants of Station-Z11221. I am the chief of station security, Yosef Austberg.
Patricia and Chillard looked at one another.
Mastermind-308, he thought into her mind.
The deep rumbling voice and verbal inflections were different from the man they'd observed from Hortensia's apartment. Somehow, the Core AI had hijacked his body.
I address you with an unfortunate, but necessary, declaration. Over the last thirty-four hours, this station has experienced a series of violent attacks including murders and assaults, triggering spikes in stationwide anxiety and general unease. My security staff and I are dedicated to the apprehension of those responsible and restoring the psychological balance.
The murmurs and whispers from the crowd mingled with their troubled thoughts to act as a weight pressing in on Chillard from all sides. He focused on his breathing, and grounding himself in his own thoughts. They gradually quieted down to a constant thrumming in the back of his mind. Patricia pulled the cowl of his hoodie forward, bringing him back to the moment.
These people weren't accustomed to the kind of violence happening all around them and a helpful authoritative presence called to a basic psychological need. Chillard knew this from his training, but feeling their psyches reach out towards the image on the screen like youths looking for a mentor or protector was a sort of live fire exercise. As a scholar of the mind it was fascinating once he'd gotten himself under control.
We have isolated four individual perpetrators involved directly or indirectly with these heinous attacks.
Chillard tore his eyes away from the crowd and looked up at the huge digital billboard where Austberg stared down at the people gathered in the sector square. Patricia and Hortensia were entangled in this because they helped him. His training marked them as collateral damage, but he couldn't bring himself to see them that way. Patricia was his co-conspirator, on station for the same reason he was. Hortensia was his friend, his first... He took a deep breath and tried to separate his emotions from his rational decision making. Once the felarnian's face appeared on the displays, they would have to make a mad dash out of the sector before someone alerted the authorities. Chillard took her hand as she moved through the crowd.
Four faces appeared on every display: Chillard Zwilk, the reporter, Onika Fwendi, and two other humans Chillard had never seen before.
No Patricia. No Hortensia.
Security cannot capture these destabilizing elements by ourselves. We need your assistance, your participation in this search. Stationwide, I have modified your authorization. All citizens of Station-Z11221 have been invested with the power and obligation to detain the fugitives and bring them to your nearest detention center.
The images shrunk to a corner of the screen and the extra space was filled with a local map displaying the location of the new detention facilities.
Thank you, Mastermind-308 said, using Austberg's mouth, and happy hunting.
The displays went blank once more, then after thirty seconds resumed their original activity. Suspicion, fear, and apprehension spread through the throng of people like a virus. Chillard felt it jumping from mind to mind. All it took was a wayward glance, a shift in body language, and the paranoia spread like a pathogen. While some began to scan the crowd for strangers, most huddled together with familiar faces or isolated themselves. The once bustling sector lost its luster as worry and distrust wiped the smiles off their faces.
This was happening all across the space station.
"We need to leave as soon as physically possible," Chillard whispered as they walked down an alley between a groomer and an ice cream parlor. He looked back in the direction they'd come. "Unfortunately, we are heading in the wrong direction."
"I agree, but I suspect most if not all of the docks have been put on lockdown. Even if you can get through security, we might not be able to launch a ship. We'd not only have to deal with electronic hurdles, but likely mind-controlled security guards too. If it comes down to a shootout, I don't like our odds as they stand."
He swallowed a lump in his throat. "Agreed."
They exited the alley and bumped into a couple staring down at the screen of a shared datapad. It sounded like they were listening to a replay of Austberg's public announcement. The man fell to the floor with a yelp and his female companion blurted an inarticulate cry as she fumbled to keep from dropping the device. They both looked up embarrassed as Patricia apologized and offered a helping hand.
"No, it was all our fault," the woman said. She and Patricia pull the man to his feet. "We were distracted by Chief Austberg's speech."
"Can you believe this is happening? I grew up on Typhon Station. That place was a warzone, more often than not, but I didn't expect anything like that here."
"Yeah, if I wasn't seeing it firsthand, I wouldn't think it possible," Patricia agreed. "I didn't sign up for this."
The woman nervously laughed. "I thought this was a station of techs, engineers, and designers."
"Don't forget chefs and support staff," the man said under his breath.
"You know what I meant. Somebody's insecure," the last is directed toward Patricia in a conspiring tone.
"Hey! Back me up buddy, it's two on one."
The man looked to Chillard for support and his eyes widened in startled surprise. Even as he pointed an accusing finger, Chillard lashes out with a psy-whip, startling the man's consciousness with a sudden jolt of mental force. His victim's eyes went blank and the man fell back into his companions' arms. The look of sudden fear in the woman's eyes was immediately replaced with fury.
"Did you do this? Are you in league with–"
"Yes," Chillard said, throwing back his hood. "Now go to sleep."
The woman, surprisingly strong-willed, resisted for a moment then lowered her companion to the ground and fell asleep beside him.
Patricia glanced left and right to see if there were any onlookers.
"Put the hood back on," she said as she dragged the couple behind a pair of large waste bins. "That was reckless."
"I needed eye contact to ensure a stronger connection. I could feel the strength of her will like a wall surrounding an estate. There was no time to go over it, so I went through it."
Patricia pursed her lips, but nodded.
"Did... anyone see us?" he asked, suddenly feeling impetuous.
"No." Patricia adjusted his hood and picked up the couple's datapad. "It was rash, but you did what you had to do."
In a rare unguarded moment, he felt her hesitation and annoyance.
"Look, holding in your feelings will make them well up. It will be a distraction for the both of us."
"I don't hold onto my emotions. I've found it less cumbersome to deal with them in the moment." She sensed him catch her in a half-truth, and smirked. "There are a few things I keep buried away, but that stuff is extremely personal."
Chillard merely walked beside her, silent and patient as they crossed an intersection and neared the sector edge. The construction sites and equipment in the station interior were a welcome sight after his failed attempt to get to the private hangar.
"I can't wrap my mind around the hypothesis of this experiment. Mastermind-308 is running rampant, infecting everything in his path. If this is his purpose, why was he hiding within the code? Was he laying in wait, looking for me or anyone else sloppy enough to let themselves be discovered? Or was he trying to conceal his activity from Station-Z11221? Every node one claims for itself is one less node available for the other.
Some super thinkers develop a charitable attitude towards their peers and will gladly share. Others become aggressive, hungry. Which is Mastermind-308? I've never been so deprived of relevant information for so long. Usually, if I don't know something, I find it out."
"But you can't risk searching without dangling yourself in front of Mastermind-308 like a piece of irresistible bait," Chillard finished.
He finally understood her annoyance. She prided herself on her tech savvy, a level of talent that far exceeded anything Chillard had ever seen. Mastermind-308 represented a challenge that diminished her skillset.
"I read somewhere that the thing that keeps organic minds ahead of their digital counterparts is creativity. Machines can make great deductive leaps based on data provided, but only organic minds can think beyond the provided data..."
His words trailed off under the fierceness of her gaze. After what feels like an eternity, a smile spread across her face and she nodded.
"We need to find Station-Z11221's original Core AI," she said, brimming with determination. "I also want to find these other suspects. Mastermind-308 wants them and I need to know why."
She tossed the couple's datapad in a waste bin, resisting the urge to surf the local networks.