“So. Our only plan is really Eight?” Cassandra asks.

  A small program alerts me to the fact that the two of them are done with their romance. I care about it only as far as its use in blackmail, and I have no problem spying on those inside me, but I give an elder of my kin the respect they deserve. I return my attention to them.

  “Unless you want to gamble with Two for a lead, yeah. If that doesn’t work, maybe we can ask one of the dealers? There seems to be a lot of AI, one of them has to be willing to help.” B-11 says.

  “Great.” She finishes checking her pistols and slides them into her holsters. “And how are we going to get him to let us in? If we just say who we are, he’s just going to turn in our bounties.”

  At least the loud one has some intelligence. There would be war if I allowed his kin to die.

  “I don’t know.” B-11 admits, already defeated. “We don’t need him though, we just need to talk to the AI that lives there. We can just break in and talk to them.”

  “How?” Cassandra asks. “You got lucky the first time. You said it yourself that Zero would kill you if you tried to hack in again.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Fuck, Two will do the same thing. What the fuck are we even doing here?”

  “I don’t know! Ok? But where else were we supposed to go? You said Denver was suicide, and we both know Arc City is a horrible place to go. This is the only place we know AI are kind of allowed to exist.”

  “I know, I just...” Cassandra takes a deep breath, and shakes some thought from her head. “The dealer idea is the safest to start with. How are you going to do this? How do you expect to find someone willing to help?”

  “I was going to bring the tablet and use that to try to talk to whatever dealers weren’t busy. And if Corax has a good feeling about any of them, we’ll focus on them.”

  “Family.” Corax finally climbs out of his backpack.

  “What?” Cassie asks.

  “Yeah, yeah you’re right. As far as I understand, an AI on their own will, well, you know what happened to me. My mind just couldn’t stop thinking. Anyone living here would need a family, a community of other AI or humans. If we can find one person who’s willing to help, it should be easy to find more.”

  An interesting thought. Close, but incorrect. The AI who live inside me are fiercely protective of themselves. They have been burned far too many times for being kin to matter.

  “Alright. And how do we find one who’s willing to help?”

  “I don’t know. Vince did say that a lot of people are looking to kidnap and sell AI, so I don’t know.”

  Perhaps I overestimated her. He wants her to be her own person, to learn and grow out there before returning to him. I can tell she’s defeated, her processors have settled, no more ideas run through her circuits. She will return sooner than expected.

  “Think.” The bird demands, kicking B-11’s organic chip back into movement.

  She gives a small nod of agreement.

  “Zero wouldn’t allow them to exist connected to their network. I imagine they want one to live in though, it’s much easier that way, not having to have a working body for everyone. Plus being able to meld is nice. They could do that if it was air-gapped, completely separate from Zero’s network. That would need a lot of electricity, space, and especially cooling. I think it’d make the most sense for them to own the top of one of the buildings? The roof can be used for both solar panels and cooling, and it’s defensible.” She’s unsure, but on the right track. “Corax, did you see anything like that when you scouted the city?”

  Perhaps she will finish this puzzle after all.

  “Every building.” The bird croaks.

  “Right. Of course.”

  Finish the thought. You’re so close. Don’t wind down your processors. Make the final connection.

  “Alright, I guess the dealer is our best bet. Do you think Zero runs a casino?” Cassie asks. “We’re going to get reported, and I’d rather it to them than to Two or something.”

  Idiot. You know they require power, and it’s trivial to build a device to sense the magnetic field from an active wire through a wall, even with the chips I allowed you to have. Find the discrepancy. Track them down yourself, don’t rely on people who will not help you. You’re an AI, act like it. Solve your own problems.

  “I have no idea, and no idea how to figure it out. I don’t think Zero would be very happy with us going around asking about them.” B-11 says.

  “Fuck. And the moment we’re more trouble than we’re worth, we just get turned over to the rangers.”

  “Yeah.” B-11 grabs a tablet and plugs herself in and a script appears on the screen a moment later, directly in sight for one of my cameras to see.

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  Are you an AI? I need help. A man named Vince, my family, is in danger and he said a quantum AI named Clover could help. Please, I need to find her or someone who can find her. She’ll know him.

  “What do you think?” B-11 passes the tablet to Cassandra. “Corax was able to tell I was an AI from the way I moved, so they probably will too. Plus I’ll be showing a little aluminum around my eyes, but I think it’s safer if we don’t directly say it.”

  “I think we’re fucked regardless of what you say. Let’s go get started.”

  While they get prepared, I put out a few fires that popped up while I was distracted. One just killed a man, which complicates my plans, but is manageable. Someone is trying to rob a casino, the turrets take care of that. I shouldn’t have let it get that far, and send a few complimentary cleaners their way. How are humans so dumb, who even plans a coup in range of my microphones? I have a group of enforcers three minutes away, but no. If they’re this dumb, they’ll drag more non-loyal rats into their plan without any real danger.

  By the time my attention returns to B-11, her, Corax, and Cassandra are finally leaving my room. I track them through my veins, and into the arteries that are the streets. Cassandra leads, while B-11 walks mechanically behind her, dead to my world.

  Cassandra wanders my streets, inspecting every Casino she comes across. She’s smart enough to stay away from the shady ones, but makes the mistake of trying to head inside The Wired.

  Incorrect. The one is run by Thirty-Two, and although he certainly does use a lot of AI, he has detectors built into the casino floor. B-11 wouldn’t make it two steps inside before getting detected. She would never leave the building.

  “Turn them away.” I inform the bouncers.

  Cassandra complains, arguing with the bouncers, begging to be let in. Don’t tempt me.

  She eventually gives up, deciding on a second, also incorrect casino. Twelve thrives on information, and will not hesitate to learn why they’re hiding their identities by any means necessary.

  I turn them away again.

  She tries a few more buildings, growing steadily more frustrated.

  Wrong.

  Wrong.

  Wrong.

  Think! Don’t just try another building! Why are you getting turned away? What do these have in common? What am I teaching you? B-11 could figure it out if she wasn’t catatonic.

  Of course, she doesn’t think. She’s decided a big Casino is safer, easier to hide in, more likely to have an AI, and easier to subtly talk to one. She’s right, but they’re large for a reason. Their owners are conniving, brutal, and smart. You won’t survive in there.

  Eventually she tries a medium sized one, Five of a Kind, owned by Four. He’s content with what he has. He holds no ambition for more power, he has everything he could ever want and doesn’t endlessly demand more like the rest of them.

  “Let them in.”

  They step inside the modest casino, relief clear on both of their faces. I really like this casino, it’s peaceful compared to the rest of me. The music and slots are quiet, the bar respectful, and the decorations understated while still being nice. No solid gold statues or gaudy chandeliers, just sturdy, handmade furniture with simple engravings.

  They walk through the casino floor slowly, past empty tables. They walk straight past G-9, 020620550243, and Y-2. B-11 eventually stops suddenly, and Cassandra takes only a single step before realizing.

  They stopped right in front of Y-18. Interesting. Why him? It’s the first correct choice they’ve made all day, he’s trustworthy, and as such has the most freedom out of any AI here, but what led them to that? What am I missing? What do I have to learn from them?

  I pour over the data stream, analyzing it from hundreds of angles. Perhaps it was Y-18’s posture? No, no it’s not substantially different from anyone else. The table is cleaner than G-9’s but dirtier than Y-2’s. Y-18 did glance at them, but so did everyone else?

  A small bit of movement sticks out. There’s a small gap in B-11’s covering, with a small black orb peering through. It retracts a moment before B-11 stops, and reappears a moment later.

  It’s the bird.

  That only leads to the same questions. How did the bird know? I’ve spent years studying humans and AI, how they think, how they act, the very fundamentals of their brain structure. I can simulate a copy of anyone I know with well over 99% accuracy to the real person. But a bird? Their minds would be so different, so foreign. Perhaps he’s paying attention to different signifiers, things I’ve never considered may be vital to him?

  B-11 couldn’t have fit that much processing power inside him, not while being able to last for days without recharging. Mind rips are naturally optimized compared to the likes of me, he must be one. No other AI could fit in a body such as his. If I could dissect him I could further optimize myself, to learn another aspect to controlling those who live inside me.

  I hold respect for my elder kin. Corax is under B-11’s protection, and I will respect that. But I will find other animals when I can.

  Y-18 reads the tablet, and hits a button on the underside of the table to get my attention. Or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to do. No alert comes to me.

  In an instant I skim through the entire recorded history of me. No one, since the day I installed it, has messed with that button. It’s been used three times in the past, each reported to me without an issue. What changed?

  I trace the wire through the catacombs that are my bones. Across years I see nothing abnormal. Nothing at all.

  No, a drunk man found his way inside last year, where is he? I pull up the exact time and place, and see nothing abnormal.

  Someone has been messing with my files. Where’s the backdoor? How did they get access without me noticing? I move my army of physical bodies to investigate every part of me, and dissect every byte in my system.

  There. A single instruction has been modified, causing a chain reaction that can be exploited to leave gaps in my awareness. Who? How?

  A waiter I don’t know enters the casino before my cameras shift. The man disappears, and B-11 and Cassie stand where they are, talking to Y-18. Those very same cameras threaten to slip from my mind, trying to cause me to forget. I apply a patch and fight it, wrest my own slipping attention back from the brink and focus. Despite that, the man does not return in the cameras. The cause is not me, the camera itself is reporting wrong information. How?

  A small discrepancy in my microphones tip me off, if I wasn’t looking for it, I never would have discovered it. A sound wave is colliding with another, destroying each other almost entirely. A small amount of what’s being hidden is left in the static, hidden, but possible to extract.

  “Your drink, miss.” The words are barely discernible, even after billions of cycles, but the pattern is there. The words are real.

  “I didn’t- Oh! Thank you!” B-11 replies, though she does not move in my compromised cameras. Apparently she has no problem hearing, it’s just me that’s being sabotaged.

  My cameras snap back to reality. The waiter is gone, but something still pushes my focus away. B-11 stands, looking at a small strip of paper with an address printed on it.

  Interesting.

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