Archiwum
- Index
- Forgotten Realms Anthologies 03 Realms of Magic
- Bain, Darrell & Berry, Jeanine Gates 03 World of the Sex Gates
- Cooper McKenzie [Menage Amour 161 Club Esotera 03] Minding Mistress (pdf)
- Dena Garson [Emerald Isle Fantasies 03] Ghostly Persuasion [EC Twilight] (pdf)
- Ian Rankin [Jack Harvey 03] Blood Hunt (v4.0) (pdf)
- Alan Dean Foster The Damned 03 The Spoils of War (v1.0) (Undead)
- Harry Turtledove War Between the Provinces 03 Advance and Retreat
- 791. Weston Sophie Weselne dzwony 03 Zakochany książę
- Krentz Jayne Ann Eclipse Bay 03 Koniec lata
- 1. Matthews Sadie Namić™tnośÂ›c po zmierzchu
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- gim12gda.pev.pl
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where they dug up that kind of personal information on me.
I shrug into the shirt despite myself. Then I walk out into the main room,
feeling like a whore who under-sold himself.
The Inquisitor has dressed. She wears the uniform pants and an undershirt that
show off rock-hard biceps and a washboard stomach that, until today, I'd seen
only on women in magazines. She and Morningstar play footsie on either side of
the writing desk now filled with a tea service, a soup tureen, and bowls.
"Finally," Emmaline says. Seeing me, her smile fades and she turns serious. "I
hope you're ready to get started."
"Sure," I say with a shrug.
Morningstar pours tea into a mug with the hotel logo and hands it to me. His
eyes dart from my jeans to the white shirt they bought me, and his mouth
stretches into a thin smile. The mug warms my hands, but does nothing for my
soul.
"I have a small problem," Emmaline says, swinging her legs around to face me.
"Your Page program has become my operating system, and it & " She drops her
voice to a whisper. "It has its own agenda."
"It?"
"The program," she repeats, as if I don't get that part.
"No, I mean, not he or she? The AI must have a preference. Mine does." That
isn't strictly true, but Page looks like me. Most people call Page "him."
Page, for whatever reasons of his own, sometimes likes to dress as a girl.
Rarely, however, did s/he ever choose to be neuter. Page always told me that
felt too inanimate. S/he would rather be both than neither.
"Its gender hardly concerns me," Emmaline says. "What I want is control over
my own body."
Yeah, I can see why.
"But I'm confused," I say. "What happened to the combat computer?" I take a
sip of the tea. It tastes like something innocuous, like English Breakfast,
but I hardly notice it. I'm trying to wrap my mind around what she's asking
for. All Inquisitors are cyborgs. They have a souped-up version of the LINK
along with a sophisticated combat computer that supplies the means of
controlling their enhanced muscles. Considering that her eyes and ears are
implants and her voice is modulated by microcomputer, Emmaline should be a
quivering hunk of scrap biometal without it. Honestly, as a rogue Catholic
Inquisitor, I'd have thought that the Swiss Guard would've used that to their
advantage and shut her down ages ago. Of course, considering what I'd seen,
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maybe they had. Even so, it begged the question: "How could Page have become
your OS?"
"You're here to figure out the technical details. All I need is complete
control of the Page."
"You don't ask for much, do you?"
"Can you do it?"
Maybe. I guess I might be able to script a leash program that would keep Page
Version Two bouncing around safely inside her personal nexus, unable to launch
itself out onto the LINK. But, control an AI? I can't guarantee that, trapped
inside her head, the program would agree to behave and let her function. I'd
had some ideas occur to me about AI control while in prison, but they were
completely untested. And then there's the issue of sentience. I mean, if the
thing is alive, trapping it would be slavery.
Morningstar and Emmaline watch me intently, waiting anxiously. I give them a
confident smile and say, "Nope. Absolutely not. It's impossible. Thanks for
asking, though. I'm flattered. Really." Putting the cup down on the carpeting,
I stand up. "Thanks for everything, but I can find my own way out."
My grin is pretty wide when I turn my back on them. It isn't, after all, like
Emmaline can call the cops on me. She's wanted herself. I sigh as my fingers
touch the doorknob; my shoulders drop the tension I've been holding. This
whole thing felt wrong from the beginning. I might have to start all over, but
it's better than working with these two creeps.
I'm halfway out the door when pain shoots through my temple. I stumble and
grab for the floor. The pain fires through my brain along the microneural
wires the LINK once occupied. It moves from one side of my head to the other,
like a migraine on overdrive. My vision starts to fade. I pray that means I'm
fainting, because I'm not sure how much more I can stand. I pull at my hair,
like an animal trying to get at the source of the pain.
Just when I think I'm going to die, I get a weather report. Then traffic
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