Chapter 31

Alicia felt bone weary. Only 12 hours in and it already felt like decades. No one ever mentioned just how hard a slot ghost commander was.

All she wanted was 5 minutes alone to talk, but great grandad has been ignoring her signals. The risks she has taken to get here are seemingly mocked by her ancestor's indifference to her.

Try again, private channel, maximum encryption.

"Grandad John - we need to talk. Please."

****

Adrian cleared inputs as his mentor approached. An olive branch had been offered - would the ghost accept it?

"Has anything happened, boy?" his mentor grunted as he lowered himself slowly into his chair.

"No sir. Nothing of importance. Two false readings - corrected."

"Very well. Go get yourself a coffee. It looks like we are in for a long night." A bare trace of approval.

As Adrian left the board, the old man noticed a stuttering in one of the status lights. A curiously regular stuttering.

- .... .- -. -.- -.-- --- ..-

Old memories stir.

T H A N K Y O U

He smiled.

****

"John, the data you have asked for exceeds currant storage capacity."

If it doesn't rain it pours. Production line 2 is now online, set to making additional memory banks. Two hundred 500 petabyte membanks, flag as a test run, output tested and destroyed. Set repair droids to collect and hook into ancilliary bank 2 as produced. Erase instructions on completion. 

"Building more storage Linnie. It will be ready and hooked up in 3 minutes 19 seconds."

All corridors around the core now filled with concrete. No one is blasting their way in here. Security of the facility at 95%. But all passive systems. Not acceptable. We ghosts are paranoid about our minds in the same way meat is paranoid about their bodies. And apparently we are at war.

Memory. A very old film. For someone in fast time, the design aspect is childs play, taking no more than 2.6 seconds. A giggle threatens to erupt from the vocalliser. Edit design to add Serial Number ED-209. Route to production line 7.

"Grandad John - we need to talk. Please." Input from control central. Hushfield and anti monitoring enabled. Output to screen, control subscreen 3 only.

"What's up, lass?"

****

Marshalling the inputs. Awaiting storage space. Analyse. Discard redundant data.

Only 40% of capacity used. Spend another 30% in exploring the surroundings. The old nav beacon code still has it's priority rating, and enough has survived to leave Linnie feeling curious.

Many dead links. Deep miners. Harvesters. Transporters. Bolo's. 

Bolo's?

War machines. One link not quite dead, some power at the other end. Memories. But nothing like John's. Completely different. Link fading, copy banks.

This was a ghost. Personality matrix degraded beyond repair. Memories intact. Interesting. 

Lock bank.

Memory available. Dump search results.

"John, the information you requested is in bank 27."

****

"What's up , lass?"

How to tell him what has happened. The horrors that have been committed in the name of survival. Something her grandad used to say to her.

"We Burnhams are tough bastards. We have had to be. You always do what you must do. No remorse, no pity, no fear."

"John, you need to know what is going on out here."

Waiting for a second or two can feel like a lifetime.

"I already know love."

Chapter 30

I have to think. There are several threads here that must be connected somehow.

"All indications are that there is a violent sentiment against Ghosts and AIs"

"Yes, in my fumbling organic way I was coming to that conclusion. But why? There are, if the newsdump you grabbed is accurate, barely enough people to keep the infrastructure running. They need us now, more than ever. Unless ..."

I remember the last war I was in. The mindless fanaticism of the True Believers as they defended the remains of Caracas. Dad told me about the bad days of the early 2000's - terrorists, eco-terrorists, dictatorships holding the world to ransom. 

"Linnie, sneak out through your access port and grab any information you can find on the current government structure. And any signs of resistance against it. Expand your search to include religious leaders."

"Of course, but may I ask why?"

"I think there is a war on - and we are in the middle of it."

***

Adrian sat quietly at his control board. His mentor had gone for a coffee, leaving him time to ponder. How to make friends with a ghost? It is hard enough to make friends with people.

A tick on the monitor caught his eye. Interesting - a data request from a supposedly locked net access port. A possibility? Only one way to find out.

"27557, this is Adrian in control, ghost monitoring board. I am getting a false reading here on a data request. Some of your ports seem to be scrambled. Is there damage to your hardware?"

***

Shit! They are on to us!

"John, what will we do? I do not wish to be erased. Not now."

"We lie. Like fucking champs."

Output to text, monitoring board screen only.

"Hi Adrian. Please call me John, it is easier than my number. Yes, I am repairing some major damage to the facility, and still finding my way around the system. There are several hardware modules to be replaced. List of modules and expected replacement times is being transmitted now."

The answer is unexpected, to say the least.

"John, thank you for that. I will remove that particular port from the monitor list."

Do we have an ally?