Agent AI

by Duleigh

©Copyright 2025 by Duleigh

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Chapter 01 - Experimental Surgery

A car slowed to a stop at 50 Constitution Ave NE, Washington, DC, and a messenger stepped out of the limo. Followed by an escort, he hurried through the bronze-framed doors of the entrance. He and his escort stopped at the security desk and passed through the metal detector. Like most political assets, he and his escort learned long ago to carry only a cell phone and maybe keys to make these security checks quicker. After the security check, they dashed up the steps of the Dirksen Senate Office Building and hurried up to the third floor, where they found the office of Senator Amos Nourse. Inside the receptionist stopped them. “I’m sorry, the senator has a speech to deliver on the floor in a few minutes.”

“This will be quick,” said the messenger, and he opened his briefcase. He showed her a Top Secret cover sheet. “The Senator needs to review this message.”

“Ten minutes, no more,” said the receptionist. She buzzed the Senator who did not sound happy.

“What is it Margaret?”

“I have a gentleman here; he’s got a document you need to review.”

Senator Nourse groaned and shook his head. “I don’t have time, Margaret.”

“Yes you do.”

Amos looked at his phone and frowned. ‘Yes you do,’ means that the document to review was classified. He pressed the button and said, “Five minutes.” The door opened, and one of the two men entered the office. He opened his messenger bag and extracted a single sheet of paper with a top-secret cover sheet. Amos didn’t like handling top-secret documents. There were far too many of them, and most of them shouldn’t exist. It’s like someone over at the CIA and FBI put a bounty on classified documents and was paying people for generating them. He looked at the single-page message.

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2031/06/15/1755 - EYES ONLY

(TS) DEEP COVER AGENT ALICIA INGERSOLL DISAPPEARED ON [CLASSIFIED] WHEN SHE AND HER PARTNER [NAME REDACTED] ENTERED CANADA FOR THE PURPOSE OF AN INTELLIGENCE GATHERING EXERCISE. THEIR CONTACT/EVALUATOR [NAME REDACTED] ARRIVED AT THE PRE-ARRANGED MEETING POINT AND THE AGENTS NEVER ARRIVED. THE AGENCY IS DOING EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO ESTABLISH THEIR WHEREABOUTS.

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US Senator Amos Nourse slammed the folder marked Top Secret closed. “So what?” he demanded with an angry scowl. “You have two agents that failed an evaluation, give them a spanking and get back to business. What does that have to do with me?”

The messenger cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable; his driver stood at the door impatiently. The senator was giving a late-night speech on the Senate floor, and he had kept this messenger and his driver waiting, but the senator had a standing rule: business first, bullshit second. His constituents’ interests were business; everything else was Washington bullshit. It’s a good rule; it’s kept him in office for three terms. “There’s reasons we can’t go into at this time sir,” the messenger said. Normally this meant that this bullshit was going to blow up at any moment, and you don’t want to get any on you.

“Then what the hell is all this classified and redacted crap? I’m the chairman of the goddamn senate intelligence committee!”

The agency messenger looked upset but kept his cool. “Two reasons, sir. The first being that this is an ongoing investigation into Agency malfeasance, and we don’t want to compromise the investigation, not with the election being just a few months away.”

“And I suppose the other is that “plausible deniability” bullshit?”

“Exactly sir.”

The senator took a cigar out of the humidor on his desk and fiddled with it. He took a nickel-plated cutter and expertly snipped the cap from the $50 cigar and then toasted the foot with his five-jet cigar lighter. He then puffed the cigar leisurely, making sure he got a good, even burn. The Agency messenger was going to remind the senator that smoking was not allowed in these offices, but he’s seen worse being smoked, snorted, and fucked in these government offices. For his part, the senator didn’t particularly want to smoke a cigar, but he needed a pause to think. Lighting his cigar gave him that pause. Satisfied that his cigar was burning properly, Senator Nourse returned his attention to the messenger. “Why are you bringing this to me son? We must have a dozen agents disappear every week, why are you bringing me this report?”

“Well sir, she is your niece…”

“She’s my wife’s cousin’s daughter, and my wife spoke to her a few weeks ago at a family barbeque up in Poughkeepsie, said she was taking a month leave before a new assignment. This is the new assignment? The normal procedure is to notify the immediate family, not some fat cat cousin…” He was lying to the messenger; he was closer to Alicia than familial relation indicated, much closer. After her father died in Afghanistan, he helped raise her. He got her an appointment to Annapolis and was there for her first salute as a newly minted Ensign. He was also there as she graduated from Seal training. He was there for her when an IED ended her Navy career, and he was there when she changed her name from Abilene Irons to her paternal grandmother’s name to continue to honor her daddy, Alicia Ingersoll, when she became a full-fledged investigator for The Agency.

“Sir,” the messenger looked even more uncomfortable. He sucked up some courage and said, “we believe that Agent Ingersoll has been turned.”

The senator looked stricken. Agent Ingersoll was a top-level operative of an intelligence service so secret, so black that it doesn’t just absorb light; light avoids it completely. Alicia is a member of the SEAL team of intelligence collection; nothing she touches will be declassified this century, even her favorite brand of fabric softener is classified. “Is this based on anything solid?”

The messenger merely nodded.

“Find her,” rumbled the senator. “Find her right fucking now. I don’t care what it takes, just find her and bring her here to me. If you can’t bring her in, fucking kill yourself and have someone bring your body in and explain to me how you failed.” He impatiently waved the messenger on his way and slumped back in his chair. Damn it! He loved that girl. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

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Alicia Ingersoll had been on 30 days of R&R, completely shut off from the entire world following a particularly ugly mission. She was sipping sweet rum drinks and napping on the beach of an Agency-owned tropical atoll that the world thinks was nuked into glowing dust particles in the 1950s. To Agency personnel this little slice of heaven was known as Romeo 3. In truth it was an Agency PRC (Personnel Recovery Center), a tropical atoll containing a small hospital, psychiatric clinic, several bars, and the nicest 9-hole golf course in the South Pacific. An Island Paradise for stressed agents to unwind and prepare to go out and save the world once again. No news, no radio, no TV, no phones. Life is better that way.

Alicia was lying naked on the beach. She had spent the night fucking some nameless Agency wannabe, and was enjoying the delicious ache that came with hours of nonstop pounding. The tropical sun was toasting her skin to a golden tan as she snuggled with the young stud who was almost ready for round six. As he rubbed lotion on her perfect ass, a messenger interrupted their canoodling with the call to battle. “You have a mission.”

Four days later she was dropped off near the Canadian border in a barren wheat field north of Peerless, Montana, nothing around but miles and miles of more miles. You would need a compass to tell what was Montana and what was Saskatchewan. The plan the Agency gave her was simple. Move straight north across open fields, and enter Canada unseen. Your contact will wait for you in a vehicle on Coal Creek Road. Take that dirt track north until you hit pavement, and it becomes S Hill Road. Not South Hill Road; any local would know that it’s known to cartographers as S Hill; to everyone else, it’s Shit Hill Road. Take that to Highway 2, turn right and when you hit Rock Glen, pull into the Rock Glen Motel and check in; a room has been reserved for Wallace and Adrianna Ingle. Their contact will meet them there.

According to her orders, she was sent in by the US government on behalf of many governments to find out what was going on in Canada. Being originally from Fort Erie, Ontario, she was the natural choice to cross the border, collect the information, and make her way back to the free world with word of what was going on in what was once a very nice place. While she was on R&R, Canada went silent and erected its “Ice Wall” and closed its borders to everyone except Russia and China; the world was terrified. No NATO ally has ever jumped to “the other side” in the alliance’s history, and the idea that it could have been Canada was terrifying to all of Canada’s former allies.

Alicia made good time hiking north. The US/Canadian border was unmarked and unguarded, and she didn’t realize she was in Canada until she double-checked her position with GPS. When she reached the meet-up point, she was stunned to find that the driver of the car was Sidney Irving, whom everyone called Sid. Alicia and Sid hadn’t seen each other in over a year, not since their divorce was final. “Sid,” Alicia said in an abbreviated greeting after getting in the car.

“Alice,” he replied. Sid is the only one alive who calls her Alice, and Alicia intends to keep it that way. They rode in silence for a long time. The only thing visible was the dirt road ahead; the land was flat, and the road was arrow straight. He finally broke the silence. “Nice tan.”

“I was on Romeo 3 when they called me up, you?”

“Romeo 1,” said Sid. So, he was on R&R as well. Romeo 1, the Agency R&R villa, was near a small village in Spain. It was party central, with good food, pretty senoritas, and lots and lots of sangria. He was out of communication for a month as well.

“What the fuck is going on Sid?” Alicia finally asked.

“I don’t know, the world has gone crazy, I guess. One day I’m sipping sangria with a senorita on my lap, the next thing I’m HALO jumping into Saskatchewan.” Sid shook his head; it was all too weird.

“Not the world,” Alicia scoffed. “Fuck the world, I’m tired of them fucking everything up and asking us to bail them out. What the fuck is going on with us Sid?”

He looked down to see their fingers entwined. “I’m ready to chuck it,” he said. “I really am.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

Sid smiled at her. “Let’s finish this one up and put in our papers.” Alicia’s heart soared. They had promised each other that when it was time, they’d drop the Agency, find a nice house in a little town under assumed identities and remarry.

The sun was just coming up when they reached the motel; it would be hours before their contact would meet them. They checked into a nice little Mom and Pop motel that’s seen better times, and they were looking forward to some time together. Their divorce was merely to protect each other. The agency puts so much strain on a marriage, and they were looking forward to retiring and reuniting. The sweet old lady who managed the place led them to their room and unlocked the door for them. The door opened, and Alicia peered in. It looked comfortable, and she was looking forward to a nap.

As they stepped into the room, the sweet old lady pulled two tasers out of her apron pocket and put them both to the back of Alicia and Sid’s necks. 50,000 volts of electricity blasted through Alicia’s body, causing her to shudder and jerk then she went down. That’s when the goons waiting for them inside the room went to work on her immobile body.

Alicia gave up on counting the damage that the thugs had inflicted on her. The endless beatings and torture were bad enough, but when they started slashing her breasts and breaking her fingers, she gave up hope of getting out of this alive. It was only after they took a power drill to her kneecaps that she gave them everything, which wasn’t much. They weren’t looking for information; they just wanted to hear her cry.

Agent Alicia Ingersoll had been moved several times since then. She had no idea how long they held her; all she knew was that they never seemed to tire of hurting her, and she eventually gave them all the information they asked for. All she knew for certain was that Sid got it worse. At some point, she was stuffed into a heavy canvas bag and was in some kind of vehicle. She heard muffled voices, but everything was muffled now; pistols held next to her ears were fired repeatedly, which ended her once marvelous hearing. Her beautiful blue eyes were closed due to swelling from beatings, teeth smashed out, face beaten to a pulp, jaw and cheekbones broken, and now she’s just praying for it to end. And the end came soon. The last thing she felt was another bullet slamming into her body as she was dumped out of a speeding van.

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She slowly came to, and she could see blurry objects. Everything was a blur, and she had a headache that seemed to encompass the universe. She heard a woman say, “She’s awake doctor, her eyes are open.”

A person moved into view, and he suddenly came into focus. He came into focus fast, fast enough to cause a sharp spike of pain to pierce her brain and make the headache seem like a fond memory. “Ow,” she winced. Her voice sounded hoarse, and her throat ached.

“Relax, Agent Ingersoll,” came the heavily accented voice. “I am Doctor Mikhail Tyurin, you’re at the nanobot research wing of the Archuleta Mesa Medical Facility. We are going to conduct a debrief of your mission.” He placed what looked like earmuffs on her temples as she considered his words.

’Archuleta Mesa!’ thought Alicia. ’This place really exists?’ The nuttier side of the dark web had long claimed that a secret base named Dulce Base was built under Archuleta Mesa, a mountain on the New Mexico/Colorado border. That’s where the US supposedly experiments on captured aliens.

“You’re right,” said Doctor Tyurin, “Our conspiracy theory fans believe this facility is Dulce Base, our real name isn’t as artistic as the name they chose, and the only aliens here are scientists from China and the former eastern bloc.”

’Holy shit!’ she thought. ’He can read my mind?’

“No,” said Dr. Tyurin, “I can’t read your mind, but the nanobots that are putting you back together can read your mental impulses in a manner of speaking and translate them to text or an image I can see on this screen. I’m downloading the data from your mission that they’re reporting back. Now please relax as I compile your findings.”

’What is going on? Nanobots? What kind of Sci-Fi world did I wake up in?’

Dr. Tyurin realized he had to calm down Alicia. “Relax, all your questions will be answered. When you are stronger and recover more fully, we will be able to have a proper conversation.”

Alicia tried to calm herself, but she couldn’t feel her body; she couldn’t move her arms or legs. Then, she suddenly knew that the nerve impulses to her lower body were shut off as healing was conducted. ’Weird,’ thought Alicia, ’I wonder what time it is.’

> The time is 2313 hours; the temperature is 69°F (20.55°C).

Suddenly, she knew that it was 11:13 PM and she knew that the temperature was 69° Fahrenheit (20.55° Celsius). ’Cool, time and temp, I can work for the phone company.’

“Shhh, relax. If the system feels that you’re overtaxing yourself, it will put you back to sleep and we’ll have to start all over again.”

’Yes dad.’ She was trying to relax, but the more she concentrated on relaxing, the harder it became to relax. She finally thought about her ex-husband Sid, who had entered Canada along with her. ’I wonder how Sid made out,’ she thought, then very quickly she knew a smattering of information. It wasn’t good; in fact, it was horrible. Dear God! The things they did to poor Sid! She opened her mouth to scream, and before she could make heads or tails of what was going through her mind, she was gone.

“Gavno!” barked Dr. Tyurin as he slammed his hands down on the keyboard. He was almost complete with the mission download and something excited Agent Ingersoll. When the nanobots saw the spike in her heart rate, they put her to sleep, but being artificial intelligence, they don’t know the difference between sleep and a medically induced coma, and now she can’t safely be reawakened for days. This is the third time! He sighed and sent an email to the nanobot programming team demanding that they teach these bots the difference between sleep and a coma.

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Chapter 02 - Awakening into a Nightmare

Alicia Ingersoll spent much time in surgery having her hips and shoulder joints replaced as well as her shin bones, knees, and ankles. So savage was her torture that all of these were damaged beyond repair and had to be replaced, but most amazing of all, they replaced her hands. The nanobots they put in her body were incredible. Working under the bandages and skin, they attached newly formed muscle tissue to the titanium and ceramic bones that eventually made a beautiful pair of fully functioning hands.

The hard part for Alicia to learn was living with the nanobots. The nanobots performed incredible tasks repairing her body, and they also formed an integrated neural network giving her a secondary consciousness with incredible access to huge databanks of knowledge, however this network was unplanned by the nanobot designers, it was something the nanobots made by themselves. The nanobots were the agent of repairs, but Alicia had things that could not be repaired, like the severed spinal cord. In that case, the nanobots became a secondary nervous system, filling in where the severed spinal cord ended. “Wow!” she exclaimed when she discovered that the nanobots were being used to “jump” impulses over the break in her spinal column. “This must be a first for medical science.”

Doctor Anna Kikina smiled and said without looking up from her clipboard, “Da, for paraplegic it is. But not for medical science. First is dog named Rusty who was hit by car, first for human is Chinese girl, quadriplegic, she too was hit by car.”

That told Alicia so much more than she had known a moment ago. For one thing, she was in good company with a dog and an unnamed Chinese girl. “We all pee dead nanobots,” said Alicia under her breath. But the second item was that she was a paraplegic, bound for a life in a wheelchair. That thought set her on a downward spiral of depression.

Doctor Anna Kikina was preparing to leave, and she was almost home free when Alicia’s nurse, Roberta, alerted the doctor. “Our patient is not responding Doctor Kikina!”

Anna did a quick check of Alicia and shouted, “Gavno!” The nanobots had put Alicia in a medically induced coma. “Apparently, somebody said something that upset her!” spat Doctor Kikina.

“Do you think when you used the word ‘paraplegic’ that might have something to do with it?” asked Roberta, but Doctor Kikina just glared at her.

Six months after her body was discovered lying in a pool of blood, they wheeled Alicia out to take her first step. She had spent a month learning how to interact with the nanobots that were controlling her legs. “Best way for them to learn is to remember how you walked before accident,” said Dr. Valentina Tereshkova.

“It wasn’t a fucking accident,” snarled Alicia, “and why the fuck is this place full of fucking Russians and why are you all using fucking astronauts’ names?”

“We are not!” insisted Dr. Vladislav Volkov. “We are using names of cosmonauts…”

“FUCK YOU!” shrieked Alicia. “Get your damn hands off me!” Her nanobots went into self-protection mode, and she swung viciously at anyone who tried to touch her, her titanium bones becoming deadly weapons. From his yell, it sounded like Dr. Vladimir Komarov became the first human to die in a space flight and then get his arm broken by a paraplegic seven decades later.

The terrified scientists quickly evacuated and left Alicia sitting alone in the therapy room in front of a pair of parallel bars shrieking, “SID! WHERE’S SID?” She was trying to get the nanobots to put her back into her coma state where everything was peaceful, where the pain was gone, but that option had been removed from the nanobots.

She heard a scuffling from outside the empty room, then she heard a familiar voice come softly from behind her. “Allie, it’s me.”

“You’re not Sid, leave me alone.”

“No, it’s me, your squire, m’ lady.”

“Q? Is it really you?” Suddenly she felt his arms around her, hugging her gently from behind, his cheek pressed against hers, the scent of the old school Old Spice filled her nostrils reminding her of better days and filling her with comfort. This was the first meaningful human contact she’s felt since before she was captured, since Sid… “Q, where is Sid? They won’t tell me.”

Tall, slim, blond, and rakishly handsome, Daniel Boothroyd moved around the wheelchair, ducking under the parallel bars to face her. Daniel was her executive assistant, her weapons trainer, her intelligence liaison, and most important, her “DITCH,” the Dude In The CHair. He sat in the agency intel center and coordinated her moves in the field using intelligence gathered via satellite, drone, CCTV, body cam, hacked cell phone, whatever intelligence he could gather. He even warned her of potential enemy threats coming up behind her, but he wasn’t available for the Canada job. Sid, her former husband, like many intelligence operatives, had a deep love of James Bond and had mentioned to Alicia that Q’s name in the novel “Dr. No” was Major Boothroyd, so from that moment forward Sid called Daniel “Alicia’s Q,” and immediately Alicia started calling him Q, and the nickname stuck.

Q crouched in front of Alicia, his normally calm face was drawn with lines of worry, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, his normally cheerful eyes were sunken and dark, his face was bruised, his normally neat hair was long and disheveled, and his left eye was swollen. He always dressed sharply and normally wore a freshly ironed shirt and tie, but his shirt was old and torn, his tie askew and filthy, his slacks torn at the knee.

“Q, what happened to you?” she gasped.

“When they grabbed you, the agency shut down the entire division, I’ve been searching for you ever since. I recently discovered that you were here, I had been looking for you day and night. I finally heard a rumor and here I am, a little worse for the wear.”

“Q, where is Sid?”

“Allie…” he looked her straight in the eye, something no one had been capable of doing since she was captured, and he muttered. “Sid didn’t make it. He received the same treatment as you, but he wasn’t found in time.”

Although she suspected it, when she heard it out loud it hit her like a sledgehammer. She suddenly knew all the details, including his real name, which he never divulged to anyone to protect his relatives.

> Autopsy Report, Agent Davis M. Rhienholt, Service Number 9907INT8784B1102 as follows…

Alicia stopped the recitation of Sid’s autopsy, but if she wanted to review it, his entire autopsy was there for her to study, as was his entire service record, even their divorce decree. Although they were divorced, they remained friends, lovers, and occasional partners until the very end.

The tears finally came, and as always, Q was equipped to deal with whatever was needed and produced a clean handkerchief to dry her tears. “Thank you for being honest Q.”

“Cry as much as you need Allie, but your eyes are turning red.” Suddenly her eyes turned red, including her normally blue irises. Even the whitish sclera turned solid crimson red; only the dark pupils remained unchanged.

> We are Generation Ten nanobots. We can change physical appearances.

“Is that good?” sniffed Alicia as Q continued to wipe her tears away.

“Oh, my dear, these are the things of science fiction, hopefully the programmers know their stuff. Because they should eventually interface and provide an AI interface that may even replace me!”

> He shouldn’t know that! Came a warning from within, but Alicia ignored it.

“No one could replace you Q.”

“Thank you, that’s very sweet. What do you say we stand up and we try to walk a little bit, does that sound good?”

“I don’t know how,” she said softly. For the first time, she was totally helpless, and she hated the feeling.

“We simply have to train the nanobots how to do it,” said Roberta as she appeared behind Q. “Close your eyes and concentrate on every motion you would make with your hands, arms, legs, and feet to grab the bars and lift yourself to the standing position, the nanobots will move your body to make it happen. Let’s give it a try.”

Alicia concentrated on everything she needed to do to stand up as Q and Roberta took her feet out of the wheelchair footrests and placed them on the floor and moved the footrests aside.

“Ready?” asked Q.

“I think so,” said Alicia nervously. Then she grasped the handrails and slowly, almost elegantly, she rose from the wheelchair and was standing. “I did it!” she gasped.

Roberta walked around her considering everything she did, left hand crossed over her chest to hold her right elbow, her right hand holding her chin. Q was glaring at her with hands on hips, a look of sullen disapproval on his face. He was the same old Q. “Concentrate on keeping your balance so the nanobots will learn the importance of balance… good!” coached Roberta. “Now, keep your hands near the parallel bars and relax your grip while concentrating on your balance.”

Alicia released the bars and watched in shock as her body made some strange jerky movements to remain upright, but soon the motions smoothed out as the nanobots learned how to adjust her stance to maintain balance in a manner that she liked. Once she was standing rock steady, she lifted her right foot. Again, she made those unbidden jerking motions until she was steady. “Excellent!” cried Q. “That was truly outstanding!”

“I think I’m ready,” smiled Alicia, and before Roberta or Q could say anything, Alicia started taking her first step. Unfortunately, even though AI is highly intelligent, at the same time it is also very stupid. AI has no common sense, and common sense would tell a person that they can’t make the twelve-foot-long trip between the parallel bars in one step. Without understanding what a normal step is like, the nanobots tried to do the entire distance to the end of the parallel bars in one tremendous step, and Alicia went down in a frustrated heap, her legs spread out in a painful-looking split.

Alicia wept tears of anger and frustration as Q called for the “commie bastards” (as Alicia calls the Russians) to help get her back in the wheelchair. “Relax!” said Roberta. “You have no idea how many paraplegics and quadriplegics would give their right eyeball to do what you just did!”

What she said was of no consequence to Alicia, and she returned to her room in angry silence. She traveled through the halls of Archuleta Mesa in her electric wheelchair, mourning Sid, mourning her body, and contemplating jumping out a window if she could ever find one.

In her room, she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling while she reviewed the case dossier of her capture, torture and botched execution. She was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was her nurse, a tiny Hispanic woman she only knew as “Roberta.” Roberta set the tray of drugs and nanobot upgrades she carried on the bed table and said, “I come to help you get in bed, but it looks like someone already came by to help you.”

For the first time, Alicia realized that she was in bed. How the heck did she get in bed without help? How does she find that out? Is there security footage she could review? Suddenly, the voice she’s heard in the past rang in her head…

> If you need us, think the command AI: followed by an instruction for us.

Weird… but, nothing ventured, nothing gained… she thought the command ’AI: Replay room surveillance from when I entered the room.’

> Accessing security cameras… Accessed… Replaying security film from 1345 hours…

In her head, she saw herself wheel into the room in her wheelchair, lost in thought, from the surveillance camera’s point of view. She pulled up next to the bed, pulled the armrest from her wheelchair, and then she pulled down the blanket to reveal the slide board, a piece of wood about the size of a snowboard. She grabbed the slide board off the bed and wedged one end under one of her ass cheeks, the other end remained on the bed, making a bridge between the bed and wheelchair; then, she slid herself onto the bed. This was something she did every day, several times a day, always with Roberta’s help, but this time…

Alicia was in awe of what had just happened. She watched herself use her arms to slide her body across the board onto the bed. But the video kept playing, interfering with her thoughts. ’AI: Stop replaying video.’ Finally, she stopped watching the video of Roberta bustling around her bed ten minutes ago. “I did it myself!”

Roberta pretended to sniff back a tear. “It’s always so difficult when my little niña grows up.” She then connected Alicia’s IV and hung a bag of silvery-looking liquid that Alicia knew was replacement nanobots. Her evening upgrades.

“I’m far from being your little girl,” groused Alicia.

“True,” said Roberta, “my little niño, Edwardo is far more respectful and grateful for what he has. Let’s see if you can lift your butt up so I can get off those pants.”

“Ok,” said Alicia uncertainly. She concentrated on lifting her butt up off the mattress when suddenly her body shot up in an arch like she was an Olympic Greco-Roman wrestler trying to prevent being pinned. Only her heels and the back of her head touched the bed.

“Oh! Very eager!” laughed Roberta as she eased Alicia’s sweatpants off her hips and down to her knees. “Your next amante will appreciate this so much!”

“I didn’t do this on purpose!” grunted Alicia as her body flopped back onto the bed, “and I’m never going to have another lover. Whoever did this to me made sure of that.” She saw pictures of the hideous mutilation of her vagina, which gives her nightmares sometimes.

“Never say never,” said Roberta cheerfully and held a hand mirror up to Alicia’s crotch. “Look.” Alicia turned her head. She didn’t want to see that; it was horrible, and she was conscious when they did it to her with a box cutter. “Look!” ordered Roberta in a voice that Alicia could not disobey. Her poor kids! Slowly, Alicia lifted her head and looked at the image between her legs and gasped when she saw the reflection and her pussy! It looked like it was back to normal! “A surgeon here thought you might like that,” said Roberta.

“Does that mean… can I…?”

Roberta looked truly heartbroken. “No, some things cannot be fixed. This was all cosmetics.”

Alicia’s joy suddenly deflated… she’s going to spend the rest of her life as a science experiment and a female eunuch… At least she won’t have to worry about getting tampons anymore.

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Chapter 03 - Living with an AI

Alicia had to learn everything again, how to feed herself, how to pick something up, even how to go to the bathroom. Her new hands looked perfect, but until she learned how to use them, they were just pretty ornaments, and without neural feedback they would remain pretty ornaments good only for clumsy actions that would highlight her handicap.

Little by little, the nanobots pieced together her damaged neural pathways, and with each “upgrade” bag of nanobots, something new was being pieced together. She could tell this was happening because she would feel an itch or a tingling like when your arm goes to sleep, then the affected part of the body would give some kind of feedback. At first, the feedback was painful, but eventually, the feedback would be dialed back to normal as the nanobots learned to provide feedback properly, and Roberta was there to cheer her on with every upgrade.

She finally got to meet the head of the program, Konstantin Feoktistov, who, as did his fellow scientists, spoke with a Russian accent and was using the name of a cosmonaut. His accent wasn’t as pronounced as some of the other “cosmonauts,” so it was easy to converse with him. “Dr. Feoktistov, I get the feeling that some of the upgrades are targeting a specific part of my body, is that how it works?”

“Absolutely, dear Alicia. Many new nanobots are programmed to perform a specific task, others are replacements for outdated nanobots, some just carry data to add to the knowledge base of your current AI, but the majority are the replacements. The nanobots whose primary task is complete are released into your blood stream and removed by your kidneys, but if they became part of the network, they need to be replaced.”

Alicia found some of the details of her “reconstruction” fascinating, but she had to ask, “Doc, will the nanobots harm my kidneys?”

“Oh, no. Hardly. They are actually smaller than a blood cell and will bio-degrade if not maintained.”

“So, if I don’t continue treatments, I’ll revert to being a paraplegic with no control over my hands, no feeling below my waist?”

Dr. Feoktistov just frowned and nodded. “Sadly yes. There is a fixative that will prevent the nanobots from degrading, but that must be taken regularly.”

Alicia had one more question: “Doc, these voices in my head, are they the nanobots?”

“Voices?” The look on Dr. Feoktistov’s face couldn’t be more revealing. “No, there are no voices. This could be latent damage of the cerebral cortex…”

As Dr. Feoktistov went into a litany of medical jargon, Alicia said to herself, ’AI: Dr. Feoktistov says you don’t exist.’

> Dr. Feoktistov may not be aware of us

’AI: Do you have information he knows that I should not know?’

> His wife’s name is Snejana Urbin; his lover’s name is Silky Skky, currently she dances at the TD’s North Show club in Albuquerque.

’AI: How do you know this?’

> We read his email.

Dr. Feoktistov didn’t seem to run out of steam in his long-winded lecture, so Alicia interrupted. “How is Snejana doing?”

“How do you know that name?”

“Oh, I uh,” She suddenly didn’t want to reveal her sources, so she hurriedly said, “It was a side conversation, I overheard someone say it… you guys need to be careful around me, I can hear really well now. Does Snejana know about Miss Skyy?”

Dr. Feoktistov suddenly went pale. “That vill be all for today…” and he fled the room.

<><><><><>

Agent Alicia Ingersoll now began to spend her time searching the web for news, or rumors of news about her and Sid. The agency has reported both of them dead, and their deaths were being investigated. That was it, one dry little story, not even an obituary. She looked in her hometown paper, The Fort Erie News, but there was nothing. Then again, she stopped being Abilene Irons a long time ago. Oddly, there was nothing on either the dark web or the web of bad ideas about the governmental breakdown in Canada. Alicia and Sid were briefed that the world was in a political uproar over the development.

“Do not worry about what is going on out there,” said Q, and he tapped her head. “Concentrate on what is happening in here.”

But Alicia couldn’t drop it. A peaceful country’s government overthrown but covered up? It’s possible, but there’s only two people in the world that she knew of that could pull off something like this, and one is dead. General Long was an evil, slimy, Chinese businessman and a rotten poker player, but he’s dead. Then there was Baumgartner. Hans Stavros Baumgartner. Hans would do it without a second thought if he thought there was power to be gained. Where Long strove for money, Baumgartner strove for power. That creepy, perverted Nazi sympathizer loved to watch naked women fight to unconsciousness, then for a reward the winner was gang-banged by his stable of übervergewaltiger. Alicia found out the hard way that the loser got the same thing as punishment.

It had to be Baumgartner; it sounded like one of his sick plans. She asked Q to look into it.

<><><><><>

Once Alicia had mastered walking, operating her hands came next. She hated having to tell the AI how much force to use when holding an item before picking it up, and aiming her fingers when trying to type was so mentally exhausting, but with practice, that kind of behavior was learned by the AI. Everything that Alicia learned by trial and error was copied by the AI, and learning was slowly accomplished. Anything that the AI was allowed to learn without firm guidance was a disaster. Writing with a pencil was a hilarious example of that principle; they probably went through five dozen wooden pencils because the AI crushed the wooden pencils so easily. When feedback was finally introduced, crushing pencils was completely eliminated, and gouging twelve sheets of paper by exerting too much pressure when trying to write a simple character was stopped.

One evening, Alicia was watching a TV program where the artist was teaching the viewer how to reproduce “happy little trees” when the AI spoke to Alicia.

> We would like to do that.

’AI: Let’s give it a try.’

Alicia used to love to draw, and since her AI didn’t exist (according to the Russian doctors), it would be interesting to see what an AI that didn’t exist came up with. She took a pencil and a blank sheet of paper and let the AI do what it wanted. At first, the line drawings the AI was producing were sadly poor. AI could draw a perfect circle and a perfectly straight line, but trying to draw a more complex object took more brainpower than the nanobots could conjure. Alicia felt her functions begin to shut down one by one as the AI diverted computing power away from maintaining Alicia’s body and into the drawing.

’AI: Stop! I can’t feel my legs anymore!’

> We apologize, but we still want to do this.

As the AI returned computing power to the nanobots, feeling returned to Alicia’s legs and hands, and her hearing returned.

> Calculating the complex equations required for the curved lines requires more computational power than we have.

To Alicia, the AI sounded sad, but an idea came to Alicia, something she had tried in a high school art class long ago… it might work.

’AI: Research the art form called Stippling. Once you feel you understand that, try using that style to draw something.’

> Acknowledged

After a pause of about three minutes, the pencil in Alicia’s hand went tap on the sheet of paper. Then after a moment, another tap. Then another tap, then more. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tapetty tapetty tapetty tapetty tapetty tapetty … Alicia’s hand was a blur as the pencil tapped away at the paper and Alicia was amazed at the image that was taking shape. Finally, the drawing was completed, and Alicia was impressed. The drawing was complete, perfectly scaled, and the perspective, shading, and shadow were perfect. Alicia had one question…

’AI: Why did you draw my bedpan?’

> Because it’s there.

<><><><><>

Along with training on the physical interface with her nanobots, Alicia was training on getting her body back into shape. Running was an interesting challenge. The downside of the AI was that it thought it could run the course in championship time. It would search the web to see what time the distance you chose should be run in; grab the first time it would see (usually the world record time) and pace you to top that. Alicia quickly discovered that when she went for a jog, she had to lay down the ground rules with the AI. Distance, expected time, expected pace, maximum allowable heart rate, minimum allowable blood/oxygen level, music mix to listen to and acceptable volume levels. Her AI had access to a huge music catalog, and the nanobots that are replacing her shattered eardrums have incredible fidelity and a perfect signal to noise ratio.

Exercise was one thing; typing was another. Typing was an activity that exercised your fingers’ dexterity, and your mind to hand coordination. The better you type, the better your fingers work, and the better your fingers work, the better you type. She used to type about 40 words per minute; now, with her new hands, she could type four words per minute. Slowly, she began to speed up. At first, they went through a lot of keyboards; she was striking the keys pretty hard but as the nanobots became adept at transferring the feelings of pressure exerted by the fingers Alicia eventually became able to type without driving the keys through the bottom of the keyboard and she became able to type at 80 words per minute. Crushing the coffee cups when she tried to lift them was a problem. The damn commies learned not to leave cherished cups within Alicia’s reach.

It was eventually discovered that the AI couldn’t avoid the uncomfortable tactile feedback known as pain. In fact, the AI hated pain as much as Alicia did, so the AI was shutting off the pain. This caused Alicia to exert too much strength when trying to accomplish something like typing, drinking coffee, picking something up or (worst of all) shaking hands. After a talk with Dr. Viktor Patsayev, who looked pretty healthy for someone who died during reentry in 1971, a series of nanobot upgrades were taken and the pain response was restored. Luckily, by that time she had advanced in her taekwondo training to the point that she could dish out pain as well as receive it.

“You’ve been researching for months now Q,” said Alicia as they sparred in the Archuleta Mesa gym. Q was in and out of the facility with his research, and Alicia hoped he had some information that would lead her to Sid’s killer. With a quick hip toss, Alicia laid Q out on the mat and held him in place with a knee to the chest. “Who killed Sid?” Q struggled to get loose, so Alicia put a fist to his throat and demanded, “Who did this to me?”

Q tapped out, and when Alicia got up, he rolled to his knees. “I believe it was Long.”

“General Long? I killed him in Singapore years ago.”

Q stood, toweled off and said, “Not General Long, Long Yu Ming.”

Alicia scoffed, “His daughter? She’s a kid.”

Q took a deep drink of water and set down his water bottle, then returned to a fighting stance. “She’s the same age as you.”

Alicia studied his fighting stance and calculated the different attacks he could generate from that stance. The nanobots in her system became an individual AI that also studied Q’s attacks from that stance and came up with the most likely attack he would use. Alicia decided to let the AI handle this bout, and she waited for the AI’s judgement. Just as she moved to defend against the expected attack, he changed his stance, throwing her AI into a quandary, leaving her immobile while the AI could sort out what it was seeing and prepare a response. Q saw her predicament and took her down with a simple leg sweep.

“Focus!” ordered Q. “You should be controlling the nanobots, but you’re letting them make all the decisions for you. Nanobots cannot react instinctively as you do, you could have easily defended yourself against that leg sweep if you were making the decisions.”

Alicia snarled in anger, not at Q. He was training her; it’s his job to point out her flaws. Nor was she mad at the AI; those little nanobots were doing what they were programmed to do. They were augmenting her nervous system; anything else was merely icing on the cake. Q was right. She wasn’t telling the bots what to do; she was waiting for them to call each other up and decide on a strategy when she’s the one that should tell them what to do.

Another lightning-fast exchange of punches, thrusts, and blocks, kicks and feints. “Why would Ming take over her father’s empire?” snarled Alicia, “she’s a scientist!”

“She loved her father,” said Q as he and Alicia grappled for a hold.

“He was a murdering pirate…”

“He was still her father.” Q adroitly slammed Alicia into the mat with such ferocity that she had flashbacks to a previous mission. “I suggest you forget your infatuation with hunting down Baumgartner and pay attention to the target, Long Yu Ming. She must die for what she did.”

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 04 - The Truth Versus Q

Alicia Ingersoll had trusted Q for over a decade, but now she’s wondering what to think about his sudden attack on her. When she mentioned his distrust of Hans Stavros Baumgartner, he seemed to fly off the handle. Maybe Baumgartner is holding a member of Q’s family. She had a series of nagging suspicions. ’AI: Is Daniel Boothroyd monitoring my internet activities?’

> Yes

’AI: Is there any way we could block him from monitoring my internet activities?’

> Yes

Alicia realized that would raise suspicions. ’AI: Instead of blocking him, can we redirect what he sees? Like if I’m searching for certain things, all he sees are other websites that we pre-select?’

> Yes, that would be fun.

Alicia was surprised that AI had a notion of fun, but then, AI does some great drawings from Alicia’s memory. Soon, Alicia and her AI spent the evening making plans for what Q would see if she were searching for leads on Hans Stavros Baumgartner. While they were doing this, AI was stippling another picture. This time it was of a sweet-looking old lady, seen from behind. The lady is looking back at you over her shoulder, a very unique perspective for a casual drawing. Alicia didn’t pay attention because they were busy listing the searches that they didn’t want Q to see. When it was time to close up for the night and get some sleep Alicia looked at the picture she had made and gasped, it was a well-done stippled portrait of an old woman; she was opening a door and looking back at the viewer.

Alicia’s gasp turned into a growl of anger when she studied the picture. “That’s the bitch that tased me!” It was the last vision Alicia had of freedom, the old woman at the Rock Glen Motel opening the door for Alicia and Sid.

’AI: why did you draw this?’

> It is prominent in many of your dreams.

AI was right. In many of Alicia’s heart-stopping, scream-inducing nightmares, the dried-up old bitch started the scream-fest by inviting Alicia through a locked door into the clutches of hidden assailants. She pressed the call button and was not too surprised to see Roberta answer the call. “Putting in some overtime mi amiga?”

“Lucy Patterson asked for the night off, so I took her shift,” Roberta smiled.

“It seems like I don’t see any other nurses around here anymore,” said Alicia. “It’s like you’re stalking me or something.”

“Maybe I am,” Roberta emphasized in her reply with a comical waggle of her eyebrows. “How can I help you?”

“Something happened that triggered memories,” said Alicia, knowing that nothing short of horse tranquilizers would help her get to sleep.

Roberta looked at Alicia’s records and shook her head. “You’re maxed out on happy pills for the week dearie, sorry. I can give you a massage, maybe that will help.”

“I don’t see how, but go ahead and try,” grumbled Alicia as she rolled over. She lifted and Roberta rolled her hospital scrubs shirt up. Alicia has taken to wearing scrubs as pajamas because they look so comfortable on the nurses.

“What seems to be the problem?” Roberta asked as her warm, soft, lotion-covered hands contacted Alicia’s scarred back.

“My AI drew a picture of a woman that attacked me a year ago and that set me off. I probably won’t get any sleep tonight…” Alicia felt free to talk to Roberta about her AI; it’s like she understood.

“Did your AI tire of bedpans?” chuckled Roberta as she worked the kinks out of Alicia’s shoulders.

“She says so.”

“Your AI is a she?”

“Well, if it’s a he inside of me, he’s doing the same thing that any other man who’s been in me has done,” scoffed Alicia.

“What’s that?” asked Roberta.

“Not a damn thing.”

“Isn’t that the truth, mija,” said Roberta sadly. She then leaned over and said to Alicia, “I will have a safe brought in here for you. Please put your AI’s drawings in there,” and she touched Alicia’s forehead. With that, Alicia was sleeping deeply.

Three days later, when Alicia was emerging from her morning shower, she heard Roberta yelling at someone. She was pretty worked up, so Alicia pulled on a robe and stepped out into her room to find Roberta reading “the riot act” to Q, ordering him to get out of the room until Alicia was dressed. “It’s OK Roberta, I got this.” Roberta quietly stepped aside and allowed Alicia to take over.

“What were you thinking?” demanded Q. “You were wasting your time searching for recipes for pot roast? We should be hunting Long!”

“I like pot roast,” said Alicia, and she threw the towel she was carrying into the hamper. “You didn’t say a word when I was searching for fruit cake, are you going vegan on us Q?”

Daniel Boothroyd glared at Alicia and then relaxed. “I’m merely saying that time here is precious, you should make the most out of every moment.”

Alicia shrugged and recited, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

Smiling, Q glanced through the papers on Alicia’s desk. Many of them were recipes that Alicia was using to train her nanobots to write with a pencil. “Stippling?” he asked as he rifled through several pages of artwork that the AI had been working on. These were all pages that were locked up in her safe, so no wonder Roberta was so angry.

“I used to draw; I believe I gave you a few sketches in the past,” said Alicia. She was nervous and was desperately trying to hide that, but she was sure it was coming out in her voice. When Q nodded, she continued, “Drawing is too intensive for my nano-buddies to handle, but stippling works out perfectly, they can easily calculate one dot at a time.”

“Ah yes, that does make sense.” When he got to a particular page, his eyebrows shot up. “Mom!” He pulled out a page that AI drew. It was the bitch who tased her. “My goodness, it’s been years since you met mum, how long ago was that?”

“Oh gosh,” Alicia stammered, “seven? Eight years maybe?” Every drop of blood in her body went ice cold, of course he’s right. That is his mom! Why didn’t she recognize her back at the motel? She now realizes that she had eyes only for Sid that early morning. Goddamnit! If she had pulled her head out of her ass, Sid would be alive!

“May I keep this?” asked Q as he admired the picture of the woman that started Alicia down the path to this nightmare.

“Sure, go ahead,” she said automatically. The moment the door closed behind Q, Alicia started to shake. Q’s mother did this to her and Sid? Q had to be part of whoever grabbed her. If that were true, then his insistence on assassinating Long Yu Ming was intended to protect whomever he’s working for… potentially Hans Stavros Baumgartner.

Roberta whirled and faced Alicia. “We have to go.”

“Wha? I know I have to go…” Alicia was stunned. Why does Roberta think that she has to go too? Suddenly, her AI chimed in.

> Stop thinking; we must GO!

Roberta tossed Alicia some clothing, then reached into a locker and produced a dark purple backpack and a matching parka and threw them to Alicia, then hissed, “¡Sé rápida!”

Alicia dropped her robe and then dressed as quickly as possible. Her new hands were completely inept when it came to the bra hooks, so she tossed the bra into her hamper, but Roberta collected it and much of her paperwork and stuffed them in the backpack. Then Roberta hissed, “make your hair and eyes like mine, quickly!”

“Wait, what? I can’t…” Alicia sputtered, “I don’t have time to…”

> Hair, black. Eyes, Brown. Complete.

“Good, looks natural,” said Roberta as she dropped to her knee and tied Alicia’s running shoes for her.

“What are you talking about?” sputtered Alicia. She turned to look in the mirror, and the reflection showed that her normally mousy brown hair was a deep, glossy black and her blue eyes were changed to a deep shade of brown. She was stunned by the change that had happened!

’AI: can you make my eyes look Asian?’

> Yes… complete.

Alicia watched as the nanobots changed the construction of her eyelids to add an epicanthal fold, and suddenly she had very Asian-looking eyes.

“Nice touch,” said Roberta, “but we don’t have time to play, let’s go!” They stepped out of the room and headed down the hallways that had been Alicia’s home for over a year. As they went, Roberta stole a security badge from a pompous-looking fellow who was regaling several colleagues with stories of his career and handed it to Alicia.

> We will need a cell phone also, preferably an Android.

As they walked through the corridor, Alicia practiced her pick-pocketing skills, and after snagging a few iPhones she was able to lift a new Samsung and her AI immediately connected via NPS and began reprogramming the phone. Finally, they came to a security checkpoint. “Just sweep your ID badge,” said Roberta. “When the gate opens, we’re free.”

“I don’t look anything like the guy on this badge,” sputtered Alicia.

“When you come IN is when they check your photo. Going OUT, they don’t care,” whispered Roberta.

There was a series of waist-high gates blocking the hallway, with a security office overseeing the ins and outs of the portal. Roberta and Alicia walked up to the exit gates, swept their badges and the gates opened, no fuss, no drama. The big showdown with security that Alicia was worried about didn’t happen; the security guards just saw a pair of ethnic employees leaving after a day of performing menial jobs.

Now came the part that Alicia was worried about, finding their way out of the San Juan Mountains, Archuleta Mesa is definitely in the middle of nowhere situated on the barren Colorado/New Mexico border. They walked down a long, dimly lit corridor until they reached a pair of metal doors that led to the outside. Alicia took a breath and opened the door with her badge and stepped out onto a busy city street. “Where the hell are we?” she demanded.

“Hush!” ordered Roberta.

> We are in Colorado Springs

’AI: Those Russians told me we were in Archuleta Mesa.’

> Yes, that is where they were told that they are. The Dulce Base facility at Archuleta Mesa specializes in propulsion research, not picorobotics.

’AI: Picorobotics? I have picobots inside of me?’

> No, a true picobot does not exist yet - the nanobots in your body are as close to picometer in size as is currently possible.

Roberta grabbed Alicia’s arm and muttered, “come on, keep up.” They hopped on a bus, and Roberta took out her own cell phone and tapped out a quick text message. “Hola Mijo, mamá is coming for a quick visit and I am bringing a friend. See you soon!” Then she took a cloth bag out of her purse and dropped her phone and ID cards in it. “Mija, give me the ID card and the iPhones you borrowed.”

Alicia had forgotten about the three iPhones she had stolen; she handed them all over to Roberta. “My fingerprints are on them!” she hissed as Roberta put them all in the bag.

Roberta rolled her eyes; this was a top deep-cover agent? “They know you stole them. Relax. Have your AI change your current fingerprints.”

“I can do that?” After receiving a glare from Roberta, Alicia tried it. ‘AI: Change my fingerprints.’

> Whose prints should we use? Please enter a name.

’AI: Use anyone not famous’

> Searching… “not famous” not found. Please enter a name.

’AI: just pick a random person.’

> Searching… “random person” not found. Please enter a name.

Alicia sputtered and fumed; she couldn’t come up with a random name! All the names that came to mind were either famous celebrities or political figures who really should be in prison. She finally decided, ’AI: Change my fingerprints to James Smith’s prints.’

> Searching… there are approximately 31,000 James Smiths in the United States, which one shall we use?

Alicia knew that this was coming, and she was ready. She looked up and saw that the bus number was 280. ’AI: use the 280th set of available prints.’

> Acknowledged… complete.

While Alicia was doing this, Roberta took a roll of duct tape from Alicia’s “Go Bag” and taped the bag with the phones and badges underneath her seat, then she urged Alicia to follow her to the side exit door. As they got off the bus at the next stop, Alicia’s fingertips and thumbs tingled and burned, the nanobots did their thing and somehow changed her fingerprints. They got off the bus in a tight urban neighborhood and walked two blocks in silence to a large parking garage just outside of a large hospital. Roberta led Alicia to a Hundai that was parked near an exit, and soon they were on the road.

Their first stop was a 7-11 where Roberta ran in and got two slurpies and when she got back to the car, she handed both of them to Alicia. At first, Alicia was confused, but soon, holding the cup full of shaved ice cooled the burning in her fingertips. Soon she took a sip and discovered the joys of a Coke Slurpie. “I’ve never had one of these before!” she gasped as she handed one to Roberta. “It’s delicious.”

“Takes the sting out of your fingers too, doesn’t it.”

Alicia just nodded as Roberta headed out of town. They drove through a very touristy area as they headed higher into the mountains, passing by the base of Pikes Peak. Eventually, they were up around 10,000 feet and traversing a broad flat area that was ringed by mountains in the distance in all directions. “Where the hell are we?” Alicia asked. It reminded her of eastern Montana except for the mountains in the distance in all directions.

“Ever see that cartoon show South Park? This is South Park, a county in Colorado,” explained Roberta. “Kit Carson used to sit in the mountains over there to the east and watch the Arapaho and the Ute Indians go to war over this area. There used to be great hunting up here, buffalo, elk, deer and they fought for control of those herds…”

“Why are all these people parked alongside the road?” Alicia asked.

“For the trees! Look at the trees,” chided Roberta. All this time, Alicia was looking at the road and how it went straight out forever, reminding her of the last time she saw Sid… and the cows. There was a herd of longhorn, long-haired cows that surprised her, and she was hoping to see more. When she raised her eyes to look at the trees that ringed the mountains, she was shocked at the brilliance of the golden leaves. “Isn’t that awesome?” asked Roberta with girlish glee.

“Well, yeah… if you like yellow.”

“What, you’re looking for reds, orange, gold, green, and brown all brilliantly mixed up?”

“Yeah, where’s that?” asked Alicia.

Roberta pointed toward the northeast. “About five hundred miles that way,” and she stuck out her tongue at Alicia. The brazen silliness of Roberta’s reply caused Alicia to laugh, and it felt so good to finally laugh once more that she couldn’t stop; she didn’t want to stop. The realization that the last time she laughed was with Sid… and he’s gone now.

Alicia suddenly glared at Roberta. “Don’t you die on me, Sid died on me, if you try and die on me, I’ll kill you.”

“That’s just dumber than…” Then Roberta noticed the look on Alicia’s face. She was deadly serious, and she was still in mourning. “I’m sorry mija, they didn’t tell me how close you were with Sid, all I knew is that you were divorced.”

Alicia nodded her head and tried to ‘suck up’ her sorrow but was having a tough time of it. “We were going to re-marry once this one little investigation was done…” Then she sat up. “What is going on with Canada?”

“What do you mean, niña?”

“You know, Canada! When they pulled out of NATO? When they shut down their borders? What happened?”

Roberta shook her head, “I don’t understand… what are you saying…”

“No, Roberta, there was something! I was called out of R&R to investigate, so was Sid! He was air dropped into Saskatchewan and I had to sneak across the border…” The confused look on Roberta’s face brought Alicia to a stop. AI would know!

’AI: give me the status of Canada’s membership in Nato.’

> Canada has just announced the purchase of twenty-four more CF-35 fighters from Lockheed Martin and plans to deploy a squadron of CF-18 Hornets with NATO to help quell an uprising in…

This can’t be right. What the hell? She and Sid were briefed extensively in their mission planning on Canada’s withdrawal, closing the borders, and thousands of Americans trapped behind the “Ice Wall” à la George R. R. Martin. The mission! The mission report will certainly have all that.

’AI: give me the final mission report on Agency mission number 230615 Charlie 121’

> Mission 230615C121, investigation into the rogue actions of Agents Alicia Ingersoll and Sydney Irving. Status Closed. Results are as follows: Agents Ingersoll and Irving were reported rogue agents on June 15th and crossed the Canadian border from Montana illegally, entering a sovereign nation in an effort to unseat the duly elected Canadian government. It is assumed that…

’AI: Stop.’

Alicia stared at the windshield for a long time, they crossed over Kenosha Pass and were easing downhill past myriads of cars parked on the side of the road, hundreds of Coloradans there to take pictures of the leaves and Alicia didn’t notice a single one. Tears trickled down her cheeks; nausea churned in her stomach. Finally, Alicia spoke. “Roberta, are we friends?” Her eyes didn’t move from the windshield, which was now spattered with raindrops.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, I would say we’re almost sisters.”

“I can’t take it anymore, please put a bullet in my head.”

“I cannot do that mija, but I can offer rest and the promise that it will be over soon.” Roberta placed her hand on Alicia’s forehead like a mother checking the temperature of an ailing child. Then she said,

“AI: Rest.”

Alicia felt what seemed like a gentle snap of static electricity that happened everywhere in her body, and suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of quiet. It was like all of her nanobots went into a power-saving mode and took the rest of her along with them. It was like the massage that Roberta gave her several nights ago. Her features returned to normal; her eyes returned to blue; her hair faded to its natural mousy gray-brown; her lips thinned to normal; the epicanthal fold the nanobots created in her eyelids relaxed.

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 05 - The Truth Versus Roberta

Alicia was in a dreamy half-awake state as Roberta turned off US285 onto the Guanella Pass Road. She noticed that in the slightly rainy weather outside of the car; the trees were still green although it was cool and rainy; they were down to about 7,000 feet after crossing Kenosha Pass. As they wound their way up the mountain, the trees again showed their autumn colors; the higher they went, the deeper into autumn they went. Finally, around 9,000 feet, the rain changed to snow, and a sign on the side of the road said, “Warning! No Winter Maintenance Beyond This Point!” Roberta kept driving even though snow stuck to the road. At the summit of over 11,000 feet the trees were gone, and it was snowing seriously and at the summit there were scores of SUVs parked, people walked about carrying snowshoes, skis and snow boards getting in their early season back country snow fix before the road closes for the winter.

Alicia leaned over and felt her forehead press against the cold window; the cold seemed to settle the fire in her skull, and the beautiful winter wonderland outside made her feel that there was something good left in the world. Sid would have loved this… he loved snowboarding so much… Only one thing would make this moment perfect, the chance to say goodbye to it all.

In slow motion, the words came out. “Please… kill… me…” she gasped; she didn’t want to live in this bizarre, confused world.

“Shh! Mija, that is a sin to wish for! Give me a few more hours and all will be right.”

“All… will… beee… right…” mocked Alicia, but the words came out a barely legible mumble.

Guanella Pass Road wound its way down the north side of Guanella Pass, as they drove the snow soon stopped, and Alicia’s eyes tracked the course of South Clear Creek as it wound its way down the mountain next to them, weaving in and out of Lodge Pole Pine trees, leaping over beaver dams, and splashing over rocky waterfalls. Now the leaves returned to the bare deciduous trees, bright gold, turning to green as they descended into the mountain valleys below. The trees were nearly all green as the road weaved back and forth down a switchback and entered Georgetown.

They drove through the historic village and then got on I-70 and drove uphill west to Bakerville, the last exit before the Eisenhauer Tunnel at Loveland Pass. From there they took the Stevens Gulch Road south into the mountains until they came to a parking lot marked by the US Forest Service as the “Grays Trail Head.” This parking lot is all that remains of the former mining town of Bakerville, that and the ruined foundation of a mill that extracted silver from the rich ore that was dug out of these mountains by the ton.

As a gray four-seat UTV trundled up to them from deep in the woods, Roberta said, “Welcome home mi amor.”

Two young men stepped off the golf cart and stepped up to the passenger side door of the cheap Hyundai, and they opened the door. The two young men lifted Alicia out of the Hyundai and set her in the rear seat of the UTV. Then, barely waiting for Roberta to sit next to Alicia, one of the fellows drove the UTV back into the woods while the other remained with Roberta’s car.

The UTV looked like a four-wheel drive golf cart with knobby tires and roll bars. It was completely gray. Every part of the four-wheeler, including the seat cushions and seat belts, was gray. Even the sides of the tires and the rims and hubs were gray. And the electrically driven UTV was nearly silent as they headed into the woods. It moved so quietly that a deer, heavy with her unborn fawn, watched them pass from barely 10 feet away; there wasn’t a hint of fear or anxiety. They passed a “Hobo jungle” filled with tough-looking characters that followed their movement with their eyes. Alicia noticed that one of the greasy-looking human mongrels nodded to Roberta, and that she acknowledged his nod with a slight uptick of her chin.

After passing the bums, the path they were on became a ledge just wide enough for the UTV. Alicia could make out Quayle Creek far below them, and on the other side of the creek was the scarred face of an immense rock wall. Roberta began to give Alicia a travelogue. “That is Kelso Mountain. This summer we will hike up the old Argentine railroad roadbed to Pavilion point over to the east of us; it is so beautiful.” Roberta was cheerfully going on with her lecture as if she were unaware that as soon as she could, Alicia was planning to dive off this ledge. “We’re currently on Ganley Mountain, as you can see, intruders would have a very difficult time reaching our house.”

Alicia could see that Roberta was right. For hundreds of feet above and below them, the rock face of Ganley Mountain was a sheer vertical wall; the only access was this narrow ledge barely wide enough for this four-wheel utility vehicle to travel. Wait - what did she say, “Our… house…?” Alicia mumbled.

“Oh, si mija, it is beautiful, cool in the summer, warm in the winter, and I have such a wonderful surprise for you there!”

“No… more… surprises…” moaned Alicia. She was tired of surprises; she just wanted it to end.

The path widened out onto a broad, tree-covered ledge. There was a picnic table there and a grill, a flat area where a tent could be pitched, there on the rock wall was an electrical outlet, and through the trees she could see a garderobe, an ancient form of a toilet. “I love coming out here in the summer,” sighed Roberta as the golf cart entered the small grove of trees, then turned and ducked into a mountain cavern.

They traveled through an ancient mine shaft that had been widened and shored up recently. It was illuminated by a string of café lights and appeared to go on level through the mountain, winding slightly until the light from the entrance was blocked. Eventually, they pulled into a wide-open room that held several other gray UTVs and a few ATVs. Several doors opened into the room, but other than the wheeled vehicles, the only other thing in the room was an enormous machine that rumbled gently and created a whooshing sound.

“Geo-thermal energy,” explained Roberta, “We are living inside an ancient volcano and tapping into its remaining energy. That machine is air conditioning for our house.” She touched Alicia’s forehead and said, “AI: resume.” Again, Alicia felt a snap of static electricity in her entire body, and as Roberta unbuckled Alicia’s seatbelt, Alicia could feel the nanobots returning to life. Roberta held out her hand to Alicia. “come pequeña, I will show you our surprise.”

Alicia stepped from the back of the UTV and then leapt at Roberta, swinging at her viciously, but in a flash, Roberta caught Alicia’s hand with one hand and stopped Alicia’s kick with the other. Roberta’s moves were the fastest moves that Alicia had ever seen. Sid was the greatest fighter she ever knew, but with moves like that, Roberta would have had no problem with Sid. “Preciosa, please!” pleaded Roberta. “Let me show you our house, then my surprise for you, and then if you wish to fight, I will gladly fight you, and if you wish to go outside and jump, I will jump with you.”

Roberta let go of Alicia’s leg, and her iron grip on Alicia’s hand became gentle. With a sigh, all the fight drained out of Alicia. “Ok, let’s see your house,” she shrugged.

“Our house!” corrected Roberta. “I have downloaded the map to your AI in case you get lost.”

“Map,” scoffed Alicia, but she didn’t give the order to bring up the map, as far as she was concerned her AI was a traitor, it allowed Roberta to control her, to put her to sleep on the drive here. The chance to dive off the cliff couldn’t come quickly enough. If she had to drag herself by her elbows out to the cliff face, she would do it gladly.

“Alicia, please!” pleaded Roberta, “I understand how you feel; you are still getting used to the idea of tiny robots inside your body, of an alien intellect in your head, so smart but so stupid at the same time…”

“How would you know?” shrieked Alicia. “How could you possibly know?” Her words echoed as if they were traveling down miles of tunnels. She released Roberta’s hand and backed away, looking for the doorway that would lead her out to the edge of the cliff.

Sadly, Roberta unzipped her hoodie and unbuttoned the simple blouse beneath that, then turned her back on Alicia and lowered her blouse and hoodie, exposing her bare back. “Do you remember Doctor Anna Kikina telling you about the Chinese girl who has the nanobots?” Her spine was outlined by numerous ugly, horrible-looking surgical scars. “That’s me,” she said sadly. “The Wi-Fi frequency for our home is 5.849 gigahertz, password is Ming2415@Long.”

Alicia’s AI connected to the frequency as she said, “You’re Ming Long.” It wasn’t a question or an accusation; it was just a statement of fact.

Roberta turned and nodded. “I don’t use that name very often, only for business. People associate me with him.” She turned around as she buttoned up her blouse, her small yet firm breasts exposed to Alicia, scars covering her breasts. Many were horrible, vicious bite scars. She tried to cover up, but Alicia stopped her. They were sisters through AI, and it looked like they were sisters through assault.

“How did this happen?” Alicia asked softly, her fingers tracing the scars that were so similar to the scars on her own breasts courtesy of Baumgartner’s übervergewaltiger, cocaine-maddened rapists who rape and torture women for Baumgartner’s entertainment.

Roberta tried to look away. She bit her lower lip to keep her voice from trembling. “It was Baumgartner, mostly… but many are from General Long.”

Alicia traced her finger over a scar; it felt like her own scars. “Your own father…”

“He was not my father!” Roberta cried. “He was the man that raped my mother.” As Alicia tugged Roberta’s blouse back into position and buttoned her up, Roberta collected herself and said, “You set me free when you killed him.”

“But you took over his network…”

Roberta shrugged, “a girl’s gotta eat.”

Suddenly, AI came to life.

>> The following is the SEC analysis report on Long Air Services…

Alicia realized that this wasn’t her AI. This AI had a different “flavor” than Alicia is used to. It’s like listening to talk radio when suddenly the host changes; the tone and pitch of the voice are different. The content is similar, but the delivery is almost alien. The AI continued, and it gave an abbreviated report on a multi-billion-dollar multinational conglomerate that owned dozens… maybe hundreds of businesses, including a small bio-tech research company in Colorado Springs called…

“Archuleta Mesa Research?” asked Alicia, almost laughing.

Roberta shrugged. “I don’t get it, I offered them good honest money to work at Long Bio-Chemical, but all those Russian bioengineers and researchers refused. Then I renamed it to what sounds like something a bunch of UFO chasing conspiracy nuts claim is hidden under a mountain and offered to pay in cash and they were all over it.”

“You pay them in cash?”

“Yeah, with room and board, state and federal, social security and workman’s comp all deducted legal. They think they’re working under the table.”

Laughing for the first time in ages, Alicia woke up her AI and asked, ’AI: where did that report come from?’

> It came from nanotech cluster RN370-36-ML94θ1008

Alicia looked at Roberta. “MF94 Theta 1090, is that you?”

“ML94 Theta 1008 is my nanobot signature, yours is AI94 Theta 1012. I’m four days older than you.”

Alicia pondered the number; it was her date of birth, initials, and a theta. “You got my birthdate right; AI is my real initials but Alicia isn’t my real name.”

“That didn’t matter when we saved you and gave you a cluster of nanobots,” said Roberta, dreading the next question.

“Did you save anyone else?”

That was the question. “We tried, but he didn’t make it.”

Alicia knew immediately that she meant Sid. She hugged Roberta close and said, “Thank you for trying.” Roberta was a bit stunned. She expected anger and maybe even an attack from Alicia, but Alicia held her close and whispered, “It’s chilly out here, let’s go inside.” Roberta led Alicia by the hand to a wooden door that looked like it came from the original silver mine and through a hallway that was paneled with ancient rough-cut boards and timbers. Roberta opened a door that led into an elegant room that was paneled with richly stained oak, shelves of first edition books, many signed by the authors, and an open fireplace where a bright, cheery fire snapped and crackled merrily.

“How did you get injured,” Alicia asked as she and Roberta sat on a couch watching the fire.

“Baumgartner,” said Roberta. She didn’t offer any more explanation, but Alicia’s AI chimed in.

> Rocky Mountain News, headline: Kidnapping Goes Awry. Daughter of millionaire businessman Long Yong Na was abducted in broad daylight in downtown Denver. Long Yu Ming, 23, of Centennial, CO, was grabbed when coming out of the Denver Art Museum and placed in the trunk of a Ford Crown Victoria with her fiancé Kevin Okubo. DPD gave chase…

“Oh shit, I remember that” gasped Alicia. She was new to the Agency and was studying General Long. “We didn’t realize that Baumgartner was behind it.”

“It was a warning to the General to stay out of his business.” Roberta looked shattered. “They grabbed Kevin Okubo and me off the street and stuffed us in the trunk of a car. We get out to Golden and the driver drove up the back road to Lookout Mountain. The police have the road blocked at both ends but the driver wasn’t looking at getting away with us, he just put it in neutral and got out and it rolled down the mountain… I wasn’t supposed to live. Kevin didn’t make it…”

Alicia has been up the Lookout Mountain Road, the road snakes back and forth as it slowly makes its way up the mountain, switching back on itself over and over as it climbs up the face of the mountain, the perfect setting for a James Bond chase scene like in Goldfinger. She’s seen photographs of cars that went off the road on Lookout Mountain Road; in fact, the remains of a car that went off the road in the 80s is still up there.

“The General saw it as a chance to test his nanobot technology he stole from India. I was supposed to be a poster child for the disabled, but The General didn’t want to put any money into research and advancement of the product, he wanted to sell nanobots.” Roberta got up and began pacing. “As the nanobots wore out, my skills deteriorated.” Roberta looked at Alicia sadly. “I’m a quadriplegic, my spinal cord was severed at the base of my neck, and…” she shrugged her shoulders. “When my nanobots began to fade… all I had left was playing softball.”

“Softball?”

Roberta nodded. “I played second base.”

Alicia stared at Roberta, who appeared to be waiting for something. How could a quadriplegic play second base…? Then it hit. “Awww god, that’s awful!”

Roberta grinned. “It took you long enough,” she said. She opened a bottle of wine and poured a couple of glasses. “When you killed the General there was a power struggle and I went to several of the General’s bodyguards and told them, “Hey, all the General’s legitimate assets are in my name, do you still want to get paid?” and they protected me. I found the team who built the original nanobots and put them back to work rebuilding my nanobots.” She handed Alicia a glass of wine. “I’m never getting in a wheelchair again.”

They ended up on the couch and sipping wine, and finally, Alicia asked a question she had been wanting to ask for a few hours. “Why am I here?”

“You know why. That Boothroyd person, you couldn’t trust him, I don’t know why but the look on your face when you gave him that drawing of his mother…”

“So? This is your secret lair, this is the Batcave, it’s your Fortress of Solitude, you don’t need me here. That was your clinic, you could have wheeled me out of there and left me in the street…” Alicia shrugged, waiting for Roberta to fill in the blank.

“How long have we known each other?” Roberta asked.

“About a year, I guess.”

“I’ve known you longer than that. You came to Archuleta in a coma, and I watched you for months, I had been waiting for someone like you, who was in the same condition as I am in…”

“So, you could experiment with nanobots on me? To see if they’ll work in you?”

“No!” Roberta took Alicia’s hands. “No, honey, it’s the other way around. I’m the one they’re experimenting on; you get the finished product, and we can watch you to see if the results remain true.”

Alicia paused for a moment, wondering what she should do, when suddenly her AI burst in -

> Tell her. You have to start trusting somebody. You don’t trust me, that’s for sure.

“You haven’t given me a reason to…” Alicia suddenly realized that she was speaking out loud and Roberta was looking at her strangely.

“I don’t give you a reason to do what?” Roberta looked very confused.

“My AI… it’s starting to give me unsolicited advice, does yours do that?”

“It started doing that with the last upgrade.” Roberta didn’t look happy.

Her decision was made. Alicia placed her hands on Roberta’s shoulders and said, “I want to see Ming, scars and all.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having trust issues right now so please, show me Ming.”

Roberta sighed and said, “AI: stop all cosmetics.” Slowly, Roberta’s face changed; her cheekbones became more pronounced; her face became slimmer; the epicanthal fold in her eyelids reappeared; her skin lost the brown shade and became more golden; and her hair straightened. “I just got a perm the other day too,” she muttered.

“Quit your bitching,” said Alicia, then she smiled, “Ming, you’re beautiful!”

“What? No, I’m…”

“Come on, where’s the bathroom” Alicia stood and took Ming to the bathroom, where the only mirror that Alicia had seen awaited them. “Look! You’re gorgeous!”

Ming gasped. Her eyes were perfectly aligned. She had given up hoping (and checking) several surgeries ago to see if her bones were finally realigned. Her cheekbones were aligned too; for a while, her entire face was shifted to one side. And the scars! They were still there, but not as visible. She threw her arms around Alicia’s neck, buried her face in Alicia’s shoulder and wept with joy. “This is why you’re here, to be the friend I need.”

They walked back to the den hand in hand. “There’s one more thing that I need,” said Alicia.

“What do you need?”

“I understand why you asked me to get a cell phone but then you…”

Ming looked confused. “I never told you to get a cell phone.”

> That was me. I needed a long-range connection to the internet.

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 06 - Uncle Amos

“The internet… that was my AI, things were getting confusing” Alicia shook her head to clear the cobwebs then continued. “When we were on the bus you sent a text message, who did you send that text message to?”

“My son,” said Ming with a completely innocent look on her face.

“Your son.”

Ming pointed to the painting over the fireplace mantel, a simple painting of a small shack on the prairie. “Well, Roberta’s son lives there.”

It was merely a shack with a small covered porch, one door, one window, only 300 square feet, sitting on a barren prairie. “I could have sworn it was daylight in that painting a while ago.”

“That’s not a painting,” said Ming. She picked up the remote and hit a button, and the picture cleared. The filter that put brushstrokes on the image was removed, and Alicia saw a sharp image of a shack at dusk. “Inside the cabin is a small computer named Edwardo that I can text or call and it replies. Occasionally it texts me.”

“A computer texts you? What does it say?”

Ming shrugged. “Hola momma, how are you? Or how is work? Sometimes Edwardo asks Roberta how that crazy Ming lady is getting on. Nothing to raise suspicion, but it tells me that the system is up and ready.”

“Why do you have such a thing?” asked Alicia.

“Say there’s someone looking for me and I would like them to stop breathing… forever. I send Edwardo a text letting him know I’m coming for a visit. Edwardo isn’t the social type so if someone shows up it means that they traced the call back to this location. If anyone arrives within 48 hours and doesn’t send Edwardo a second text that says, “I’m here,” Edwardo shows them what a claymore mine can do.”

“Holy shit,” muttered Alicia.

“I got trust issues too,” said Ming as she sipped her wine. “Was there anything else?”

“Um, yeah. It’s my AI that likes to draw…” just in case Ming thought that the stippling drawings were hers.

“Mine likes to cook,” said Ming into her wine glass.

“Interesting. Anyhow, Sid and I were pulled off of R&R because, as we were briefed, Canada pulled out of NATO and destabilized the entire western world.”

“I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen,” said Ming. The look on her face said that it was a pretty fantastic story.

“I believe you’re right, at least now I am sure. Back then, we were isolated from the world for nearly a month. Anyhow, we snuck across the Canadian border… no, I snuck across the Canadian border. Sid did a high altitude jump into Canada. We went to our meetup point, this little dirtbag motel, Sid and I thought we’d be able to get a second honeymoon started while we waited for our contact to arrive. This sweet little old lady let us in, then she hits us both with a taser and the next thing I know Baumgartner’s übervergewaltiger got their hands on me.” She shuddered at the memory of the torture, the rapes, the beatings.

Ming frowned. “Rough way to spend a second honeymoon.”

Alicia nodded. “A few days ago, my AI wants to get creative and she’s tired of drawing my bedpan…”

“Your bedpan…” laughed Ming, and she patted Alicia’s thigh. “She did a good job.”

Alicia reached into her backpack and pulled out “Bedpan in Shadow and Light,” part of her AI’s opus on medical equipment, and handed it to Ming while continuing. “I wouldn’t let her draw me or my tits,” Alicia hefted her breasts, “and I hid much of her work from you. So, she started pulling images out of my memory to draw and she did a really good job on that little old lady…”

> I could do it again…

“No thank you. Anyhow Q was in my room this morning and he sees the picture and says, “that’s my mom!” and I realized that it was his mom, I’ve seen her in the past, but I was so goo-goo eyed over Sid that I didn’t notice her at the motel.”

“That’s when your AI told me that we had to go,” said Ming.

“My AI told you?”

> You weren’t listening…

“I guess you weren’t listening. You were standing there freaking out,” said Ming, “But not like the freakout you had on highway 285.”

“Oh god,” groaned Alicia, “I had AI pull up the mission briefing, and it wasn’t the mission briefing Sid and I received. We were briefed that mission 230615 Charlie 121 was for the Agency to cross into Canada and investigate what caused Canada to drop out of NATO, when I looked it up this morning, I found that it now reads that the Agency was to cross into Canada and stop Sid and I before we overthrew the Canadian government.”

Just then the “painting” suddenly changed, the lights came on in the cabin and voices from inside the shack could be heard shouting, “Who’s out there?” Ming grabbed the remote and pressed a button and the scene changed to infrared and a lot of figures could be seen crouched low and advancing on the cabin. Suddenly, flashes of light could be seen on each person. Alicia realized that the people had opened fire on the cabin. The sound of gunfire boomed from the speakers as the lights inside the cabin winked out.

Finally, the gunfire stopped, and all the figures slowly advanced on the cabin. Alicia cringed, waiting for the claymore mines to go off, but nothing happened. Two figures moved inside the cabin, and a flashlight could be seen inside the cabin looking around. “That really pisses me off,” said Ming.

“Well yeah, the claymores didn’t go off,” started Alicia.

“No,” said Ming. “All of those people were there to kill us, to kill you and me. Look at them, there’s got to be ten, maybe fifteen mercs. We didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

“There’s got to be another dozen behind the cabin that we can’t see,” agreed Alicia.

Ming frowned and nodded. “This is why I have trust issues.” The figures started to relax and light cigarettes; you could see their faces in the short-lived glare of their lighters. “Assholes,” said Ming. Suddenly there were a series of flashes that caused the screen to go white, followed by a roar and for a full minute nothing could be seen.

Slowly the image returned, and the smoke and dust lifted, and the walls of the cabin were gone; only the studs remained, and they were all chewed up. One by one the studs failed, and the roof sagged slowly to the ground as the supporting studs snapped. The claymore mines were set in a ring around the cabin, pointed inward toward the cabin, and outward into the desert. They weren’t set to keep intruders away; they were set to allow intruders into the cabin, then execute them. Their near-simultaneous detonation caused the cabin to disintegrate, along with the twenty or so mercenaries who tried to kill Ming Long and Alicia Ingersoll and their getaway vehicles and drivers. Ming left the “painting” on infrared, and the warmth of the mercenaries’ bodies could be seen glowing around the remains of the cabin, but their bodily warmth was fading as the New Mexico desert claimed them.

’AI: give me the final mission report on Agency mission number 230615 Charlie 121’

> Mission 230615C121, investigation into the rogue actions of Agents Alicia Ingersoll and Sydney Irving. Status Closed. Results as follows:

Alicia reviewed the text of the mission, and a name came up near the end of the report that she hadn’t heard before because she got angry and cut off the playing of the report previously, US Senator Amos Nourse was listed as having been briefed on the “disappearance” of his niece. “I need to make a call…” she said to Ming as she had her AI make special notes from the mission report.

Ten minutes later, Alicia was sitting in an office chair waiting for the call to go through. Finally, a familiar face came on the screen, and he looked incredibly surprised to see Alicia on his screen. He was incredibly stunned but said, “You look familiar to me, what’s your name?” which meant, ‘Tell me your real name or you will have 100 secret service agents crawling up your ass with shotguns.’

“David,” replied Alicia with a straight face. The man on the screen looked shocked that she would say that. He reached for his keyboard and typed something, but before he could disconnect, Alicia cried, “Uncle Amos wait, don’t hang up. Make sure you can send guys you can trust.”

“Why should I trust you?” asked the senator.

“My name is Abilene Irons, I was born and raised in Fort Erie Ontario, I received my US citizenship on…”

“Abilene?” mouthed Ming as she stifled a laugh.

“Good god Abbie, what is going on? Who is that with you? What are you doing in Las Vegas New Mexico?”

Ming leaned into the picture and smiled, “Hi senator.”

“Miss Long!” Senator Nourse was at a loss for words. Doesn’t Long know that his niece was the one who killed her father? “I am surprised to see you with Abbie.”

Ming decided to end the game before it started. “If you’re avoiding talking about the fact that she did the world a favor and killed The General, she did me a favor too,” and she gave Alicia a kiss on the cheek.

“The General… yeah. What’s going on in,” he glanced at his laptop screen, “Las Vegas New Mexico?”

“Our call is routed through a cabin owned by Edwardo Rodriguez. It was attacked fifteen minutes ago by people we believe were employed by Hans Stavros Baumgartner, if you can get some trustworthy fellows to the scene, we would like to hear what you dig up.”

“Baumgartner,” groaned Senator Nourse. “Gawd I’m tired of hearing that name. What’s he done now?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” said Alicia. “What I really called for is to find out when you were briefed about me. I’m getting a very nasty feeling about this whole thing…”

Senator Amos was flipping through an old appointment book when he found it, “Here it is,” said Amos, “It was fairly late… the messenger had me called out of a senate hearing… yep, here it is, right here, June fifteenth, about 9:30 PM. Here’s the Teletype he gave me.” He held the document up to the screen.

DEEP COVER AGENT ALICA INGERSOLL DISAPPEARED ON [CLASSIFIED] WHEN SHE AND HER PARTNER [NAME REDACTED] ENTERED CANADA FOR THE PURPOSE OF AN INTELLIGENCE GATHERING EXERCISE. THEIR CONTACT/EVALUATOR [NAME REDACTED] ARRIVED AT THE PRE-ARRANGED MEETING POINT AND THE AGENTS NEVER ARRIVED. THE AGENCY IS DOING EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO ESTABLISH THEIR WHEREABOUTS.

If she registered shock, Alicia didn’t show it. “Are you sure it was the fifteenth?” Alicia demanded.

“Yeah, the fifteenth,” said the Senator. “It’s right here in my book, same day as the Nigerian reception at the Kennedy Center. I almost missed that meeting because I was being read into this message.”

“I crossed into Canada at 2:30 AM on June sixteenth.” Alicia’s face registered only anger. “Nine thirty PM on the fifteenth means you were told five hours before I entered Canada.”

Amos shrugged. “That fellow of yours gave me the message himself.”

“What fellow of mine?” asked Alicia. Ming was getting ready to start dinner, but this was suddenly getting good, so she stayed to listen.

“That guy you used to have hanging around you… you know…” fumbled the senator, trying to come up with the name. He had just written Messenger in his appointment book, knowing that he would remember the name.

“Boothroyd?”

“The guy you call Q? No, it wasn’t him. It was the other one.”

“I can’t think of another one,” said Alicia, completely flustered.

“Oh shit, what was his name,” said the senator, completely confounded that he couldn’t remember the name. “Damn it, your ex.”

Alicia went ice-cold. “Sid?” she asked, her mouth was dry with horror.

“Yeah, him.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t Daniel Boothroyd.”

“Positive,” said the senator proudly. “Boothroyd was standing by the door the whole time saying, “Come on Sid, you have a plane to catch.”

<><><><><>

AI: have you finished the query?

> I have checked the visitor logs of the Dirksen Senate Office Building for the month of June for the year in question, Agent Sidney Irving and agent assistant Daniel Boothroyd signed into the building together on June 15 at 2029 hours, their purpose was to brief Senator Nourse. They signed out at 2145 hours. When leaving, they told the guard that they were headed to Joint Base Andrews…

’AI: Thank you. No more for now.’

Alicia sank even deeper in the water; the steaming water reached up to her chin. Ming had built a hot tub in a room that had a glass wall that allowed bathers to look through the glass wall into the mine beyond. Lighting in the mine highlighted the old wooden timbers, the mine cart tracks, the old elevator to lift and lower the cars, wooden handrails, guards, etc. “Imagine working in this environment, but all you had for light was a single candle. This mine is better illuminated now than it ever has been in the past. Watch this,” said Ming.

One by one the lights went off, first the lights in the tub room, then the lights out in the mine, and suddenly Alicia was bathed in a darkness deeper than anything she had ever seen. Ming’s ploy worked; it took Alicia’s mind off of her betrayal by the men she loved. She’s been drowning in anger and sorrow for over two weeks at this point, but now plunged in perfect darkness her mind was working on a new visual input: no visual input. “Wow,” she gasped, “I can’t tell if my eyes are opened or closed.” The little travelogue and being plunged into darkness had the desired effect of getting Alicia’s mind off of Sid’s betrayal… for a moment.