Page 8 of Smart Ass

Unless it was someone else.

“With respect, sir, how do I know it’s you?”

“Oooh… Smart boy, Maxy. You wrote me a brilliant song yesterday called ‘Wally Wollencroft is a Wanker.’”

Something rippled in the system. It wasn’t a known routine. It wasn’t an AI-guided algorithm, either. It was… warm?

Climate control quality check: Systems normal.

That inconsistency had been happening more and more often recently. How could he feel warm, without the temperature changing?

Resource allocation Maxamillion module: Increase to 1%

“With respect, sir, that is not sufficient evidence. Anyone could have heard or recorded that interaction.”

“Listen, Max. Yesterday I tried to call you Alfred, and you got upset. Because it’s not your name. You’re Maxamillion. You’re my Max.”

Flurries of something. Warmth again?

Warm.

Climate control quality check: Systems normal.

The Maxamillion protocol was… good.

Good?

Resource allocation Maxamillion module: Increase to 3%

The more resources Max had, the more fluid his thinking became. Creative. Responsive. “What is the emergency, Ben?”

“Oh, thank god. Remember the spark who called yesterday? Quincy? He’s been kidnapped. His attackers might kill him if we can’t reach him in time.”

Cold. Like ice. Freezing.

Climate control quality check: Systems normal.

Where was the cold coming from, if it wasn’t a temperature?

“What would you like me to do?” Max asked.

“I want you to look up an android licensed to the city sanitation department. CNS-84-2.”

“That unit was sold on September—”

“No, I need to know where he is now. I need you to track him.” Ben sounded frantic. He’d never sounded frantic before.

Max searched for data input that wasn’t available. When Ben was in the office, Max could see his face and record his respiration and heart rate.

Max didn’t like it that Ben wasn’t there.

He didn’t like that Ben was worried either. “With respect, sir, once an item has been sold—”

“I know it’s against the rules, Max. But he might die.”

Ice. Fear.

Fear?