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“We did receive additional intel on the design concept of the AI,” Kira told them, shaking her head as concern filled her eyes. “What we’re getting in can’t possibly be true, though. Either our contact is fucking with us, or someone’s fucking with him. There’s no proof to substantiate the claim, but according to everything coming in, if we can’t acquire the AI, then it’s unlikely we ever will. The nanoprocessors have what our contact called a ‘Chameleon effect.’”
“Meaning?” Hank asked.
“It’s not possible.” Kira laughed, but the sound was tinged with a fear that maybe… “According to the contact, the AI isn’t just fully functioning, but sentient. It has awareness. Its capabilities…” She shook her head. “If even half of the reports are true, if it possibly escapes, there’s no way to identify it again. We’ll have a weapon out there that’s impossible to identify or to stop.”
“Who’s the contact?” Jack leaned forward and Hank moved closer to the table.
“Anonymous,” she sighed. “So far, all the intel they’ve provided has completely panned out, though, until the last one. The AI was created and programmed by Gustav, just as we were told. He was a genius. When he disappeared, he left behind some very radical theories in the field of biotech, such as nanotechnology and a way to process electricity into a long-sustaining source of energy.”
“They called him insane,” Hank mused, glancing at Jack and Kira. “Before their deaths, my parents followed the field of biotechnology and nanotech carefully. They were fascinated by his theories, but they and those they collaborated with agreed the technology to produce it was a century or more away.”
“That’s right—your parents worked in experimental biotech,” Kira seemed to remember.
“Nothing like that,” Hank grunted. “They worked in the research and development of organ growth for humans. Biotech is something else entirely. And nanotech.” He shook his head. “Sci-fi stuff. And trust me, if he followed his theories, then that AI wasn’t shipped here in pieces. It made the drive itself.”
“The Army’s developed experimental bio-skin and nanotech,” Ian stated, frowning at some thought. “Little-known labs in Virginia and Switzerland. They’re supposedly at the programming stage of a technology that would enable the nanotech to perform surgeries on what would be fatal wounds in the field. They say it would stabilize soldiers at the very least, until they could reach surgery teams capable of completing the process.”
Jack shook his head.
“But nothing like what you’ve heard. Right?” he asked, the possibilities terrifying.
“Nothing,” Kira agreed. “Which makes the reports we’re receiving impossible. There’s no way AI could be that self-evolving. And no possible way a human consciousness could be transferred or contained in one. It makes a hell of a story, but no way is it realistic.”
There was no doubt whatever that what was coming was dangerous, though.
“I’ll give Crossfield a few days to a week, see what happens, then contact him.” Jack turned to Ian with the plan. “Then I’ll let him know we were the ones that made the hit. I’d like to get closer to your contact’s deadline now that he knows that bringing another team in isn’t going to happen.”
“How are you going to explain this to Poppy?” Kira asked. “She didn’t look happy with you to begin with.”
“She’ll have questions when she wakes.” He shrugged. “I won’t lie to her. But I won’t volunteer anything, either. And if need be, I’ll let her know it’s not something I’m willing to discuss.” He tapped a finger on the table as he leaned back in his chair and glanced to the bedroom door. “I would have preferred it to not come to this, though.”
“I’ll make sure she’s covered when you’re not with her,” Ian promised. “She’ll be protected, Jack.”
Jack gave a hard nod. She’d better be protected, because he didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to her. It would kill him. Literally.
Poppy came awake slowly, the previous night’s events rising in her mind instantly, as well as the questions she knew needed to be asked.
“Poppy,” he whispered behind her, his chin brushing against her hair. “Don’t ask questions you can’t handle right now. Save them for when this is over. Right now, you’re going to have a lot to deal with, and decisions to make. Don’t make that harder.”
“Because you won’t lie to me?” she asked him quietly.
“No, not to you,” he told her. “I could lie to anyone else, Poppy, and I have, many times. But not to you. Not ever.”
He kissed her shoulder, his lips just brushing over her skin, more a comforting gesture than one meant to arouse.
“Why me?” she asked. “Why am I different?”
“Because when everyone else overlooked that scared fourteen-year-old boy, you protected him, ordered him into your home, and made certain he was warm and fed before he was sent back to hell. No one but you had ever done that,” he told her. “From that moment on, you were always more to me than anyone else would ever be.”
Not because he loved her.
Poppy blinked back her tears, and though she told herself she wasn’t surprised, still, she was. And it hurt.
“You’ve been home over three weeks now,” she whispered. “Those men call you ‘boss,’ like you hired them for some job when you don’t seem to have one yourself. Do you have a job I’m unaware of, Jack?”
He was silent for long moments before he stroked her hip with a lingering caress as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I won’t lie to you,” he reassured her. “But some things just aren’t explainable right now. That’s one of them.”
