Reborn. Lance Erlick
that plunged into my back.”
“I don’t know anything about the politics,” Rutherford said, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m a grunt engineer.”
“One of the best. What’s old Ralph want?” Machten stepped back as if ready to offer his guest one of two seats along the wall and then thought better of it. He seemed not to want Rutherford to stay.
“He said to ask for a meeting.”
“That’s it?” Machten said. “He could have called.”
“He said you’ve refused his calls.”
“He’s probably right. Have you guys made a breakthrough?”
“You know I can’t talk about—”
“Then tell Ralph to pound sand,” Machten said. “I’m busy.” He opened the door to let Rutherford out.
“Wait. All I can tell you is the government is putting out feelers for a big prize for developing a fully functioning android with advanced artificial intelligence.”
“Military?”
“He didn’t say.” Rutherford’s hands betrayed slight tremors. Sweat formed on his cheeks and his glasses steamed.
“Your backstabber friends are having problems. Margarite has limited mechanical and AI capabilities.”
Rutherford squirmed. “After you left, they couldn’t find the quantum brains. They blame you. They say you stole the components.”
“That’s what backstabbers do,” Machten said.
If Machten had taken the quantum brains, that meant Synthia might be carrying the stolen goods, which could explain Machten confining her to this dungeon.
“They obtained new materials.” Rutherford hung his head. “We can’t get the software to work. They’ve fired six teams for failing. Look, I don’t know what Ralph wants to talk to you about. That’s all I’ve got.”
“Fine. When does he want to meet?”
“He’s in the car. He said it won’t take long.”
Machten nodded. “Get your lord and master in here.”
* * * *
Over the facility’s security cameras, Synthia watched a compact man enter the lobby. Ralph McNeil had a kindly face with weary eyes. She based that on her social-psychology module and comparison to millions of other human faces. He was chief of engineering for Machten-Goradine-McNeil and one of Machten’s former partners. He was from the company where the entire concept of Synthia had emerged.
Rutherford nodded and left.
Synthia pulled up public history on McNeil. He was married. He and his socialite wife lived in an expensive home on the North Shore. He worked eighty hours a week. Apparently, he didn’t know his wife was having an affair. The last was an assumption based on street camera footage capturing the wife with a particular neighbor man all around town. McNeil was married to his job and that didn’t seem to be going well, based on the proliferation of wrinkles and gray hairs that had aged him ten years in the past twelve months.
McNeil had been with Machten prior to forming their company, when they developed revolutionary hardware and software for artificial intelligence—for her. They’d made millions when they sold off some of their rights so they could start a new company geared toward creating androids. However, after they formed their partnership, Machten and Hank Goradine couldn’t get along. Conflict grew worse when Goradine arranged financing, which gave him the upper hand.
During the long hours Machten and McNeil devoted to coming up with new designs, Goradine engineered a coup, kicking Machten out. No doubt he believed the company had enough designs to complete the project. Either they didn’t or Machten had walked out with them.
Synthia scanned Machten’s Server Two and uncovered logs of his failed earlier prototypes that were disappointing both as companions and as artificial intelligence, according to his notes. She was his first success. Machten encouraged her to keep learning and favorably surprising him. Then he wiped her mind, indicating that he saw himself the engineer of her improvements. She considered telling him how she learned by recovering memories as examples of what worked and didn’t, but then he would find a way to wipe those as well.
Synthia turned up the volume.
“You stab me in the back and now come hat in hand,” Machten said. “Things must have gone south since I left.”
“I swear I didn’t know until you did. It was all behind the scenes. He arranged the refinancing. He leaked information to your wife.”
“Fabricated, more like.”
“I wanted to speak up,” McNeil said, “but he has dirt on me too. I needed the job.”
“And now?”
The blood drained from McNeil’s face. “We’ve been contacted about a government prize for robotics and artificial intelligence,” McNeil whispered. “If Hank knew I was sharing this with you, he’d oust me as well.”
“Is this another DARPA award?” Machten asked, referring to the Defense Department research program.
“Bigger, but you have to be vetted before we can read you in.”
“Read me in? You … he can’t get the software to work, can he?”
McNeil shook his head. “You’re the best. Deep down, he knows that.”
“That’s why he kicked me out?”
“He wanted control and you were heading down your own path. Look, I don’t want to rehash the nasty business. This is a chance to come back. We know you’re broke. You’ve dumped all your resources into whatever you have hidden down here. Hank can get you the money, but we do things his way.”
“He wants to hire me for an hourly wage?” Machten laughed. “He put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“No. He doesn’t know I’m here, but several board members do. They want to join forces. You get ten percent for your contribution.”
“That’s a joke.”
“Let me explain,” McNeil said. “He raised all the money. He’s taking all the risk.”
“He pushed you onto the sidelines?”
McNeil nodded. “Hank calls all the shots. The deal is that you work under my guidance so you two never have to meet.”
“Thirty-three percent or he can stick it,” Machten said. “He owes me that after what he did.”
“Twenty percent is as high as I can go. It’s a good deal.”
“No deal with that skunk is good. You should have come to work with me.”
“You’re broke,” McNeil said. “I have kids in high school and college.”
“If I know Hank, he has a list of conditions longer than the IRS code.”
The color returned to McNeil’s face, and with it sweat beaded on his forehead. He was on a mission of desperation. “I’m here as a friend and colleague. I had nothing to do with kicking you out.”
“Spill on the terms.” Machten moved closer. His eyes narrowed into slits and his brow furrowed. His blood pressure had to be spiking. Synthia didn’t want him to have a heart attack, which would leave her stranded here, dependent on whoever took over the building after Machten was gone.
“Hank wants all rights to what we develop. You get twenty percent of the profits on this project.”
Machten shook his head. “First of all, it’s thirty-three percent or it’s not worth discussing. Even so, I know how Hank does accounting. He’ll put all of your business costs against this project. I’ll