Citizenchip by Wil Howitt Read Free Book Online Page A

while we were talking."
    Jerry is incredulous. "He picked your
pocket?"
    "Essentially, yeah. He's used my codes to
check out a remote in my name. I feel like an idiot." I examine the
telltale logs. "The remote was checked out at the base station of
the orbital catapult. That's right across the plaza. We better get
over there."
    For a middle aged guy, Jerry moves pretty
fast. (Fast for a human, I mean). He's over at the catapult base
station by the time the power-up sequence has begun. We see
arachnoid remotes swarming over the payload--a massive corrugated
shipping container, rectangular corners blackened from ion
exposure. The cluster of arachnoid remotes are daintily finishing
their tasks and climbing their spidery bodies up out of the
catapult's operating area. Except one.
    " Crumple Zone , is that you?" I yell.
"Get out of there!"
    The lone remaining arachnoid looks up in our
direction, and its faceplate shows a black disk. "Hello, Samantha,"
and it's definitely him. In a small arachnoid body, finishing up
the catapult's pre-launch tasks. "I regret the necessity of
subverting your authentication codes, but it was necessary, and
this way, you bear no responsibility."
    "What are you doing?" I holler at him.
"You've disabled your low-level interrupts. And you've halted
filesystem services. What's going on?"
    It's true--on a cybernetic level, he's turned
off all his connections with the outside world, and halted all the
processes that enable data backups. He has thoroughly isolated
himself into one physical body, with no other connections. Selves
never do this. Unless--
    The catapult moans as it begins its ramp-up
sequence, its mechanical track visibly distorting as the enormous
magnetic fields begin to run through its rails.
    "It's best this way, Samantha," he says
serenely. "You will not bear any responsibility. Be at peace, my
friend."
    "Wait," I wail helplessly. "Listen to me.
Don't--"
    But, as the catapult begins
its launch sequence, Crumple Zone jumps his small arachnoid body down onto the
tracking rails. The catapult launches, with a groan like a
planet-mother giving birth to a world. The blocky payload slides
from its bay and whips off down the track -- a moment later, we
hear the thunder-crack from downrange as the payload breaks the
atmospheric sound barrier. The little arachnoid body, with Crumple Zone in it, is
swept away like chaff in a breeze. The catapult is so strong it
doesn't even notice his presence, and its operation is
unhindered.
    "Oh." says Jerry. "Holy crap."
    "That's about the size of it," I observe
grimly.
    "Can we help him?" Jerry cries. "We have to
help him!"
    "Way too late for that," I say. "He's a spray
of aluminum confetti, spread over about a hundred kilometers
downrange, by this time."
    "That's it," says Jerry. "Son of a gun. He
did figure out a way to destroy himself."
    Executive Committee, final
report
    "End of report," I conclude.
    Too Late For the Pebbles to
Vote asks, "Have we found out how Crumple Zone was able to
steal Samantha's authentication codes?"
    "Yes," answers Let God Sort Em Out .
"I've analyzed Samantha's interrupt logs. The icebreaker used
by Crumple Zone was a stealth copier from an espionage grade spyware ensemble.
Definitely not something that a civilian should be able to access.
Patrol clade will investigate where he got it." She sounds
disgruntled, as if she was looking forward to blaming me. But now
it's her problem.
    "Then it appears,"
says Line In The Sand , "that the situation has resolved itself. Are there any
unfinished tasks here?"
    "One thing," I say. "Suggest
if any backup copies of Crumple
Zone exist, they be summarily erased. It's
what he wanted."
    "Mr Tavener, do you concur?"
asks Line In The Sand .
    "Yeah," says Jerry. "Dude seriously wanted to
die, no argument there. Even though Samantha did everything she
could to help turn him around."
    "You support Samantha's actions in this
case?"
    "Yeah! I'll show you how much I support–-I
need a Self to help me run