Crow's Gambit, page 7
part #1 of Sylphan Revelations Series
She hadn’t agreed to anything yet. Neil had finally admitted she would be meeting with Mr. Darrow in New York. He would supply the answers she was looking for. If not, well that would make her decision easier.
Eventually he had moved to another compartment to make some calls. Left alone Cassie felt the weight of the previous day settle into her body. Her eyes gradually slid shut and she dozed.
She was startled awake when he returned. The sky had begun to brighten with a soft rosy glow.
“Look.” He leaned back on the couch and pointed.
The train had slowed and was now coasting toward its destination. Leaning over she looked where he was pointing, and her eyes got large. Even from this distance the island of Manhattan spread out across the horizon. The sun was rising over the ocean behind it. The buildings stood out as dark shadows with sun beams sneaking through gaps between skyscrapers, reflecting off glass.
Cassie had never seen buildings so tall before. It was as if the city was reaching into the sky, daring the Sylph to resist. Most cities had gone the other direction after Net-Day, limiting the height of buildings for fear the Sylph might target them.
While many would have preferred the Puma line to go all the way into Manhattan, the logistics proved impossible. Therefore, like Chicago, the line had been constructed to an outlying unused airport. In this case Newark Liberty International Airport. Since the “international” wasn’t relevant it simply became Newark Central Station.
Using their priority clearance, they were able to de-board and quickly exit the terminal. At the curbside pickup there was a rental car waiting for them. He waved his hand over the door and the driver’s side opened automatically. Cassie took the passenger’s seat, pulling her bag onto her lap. They merged smoothly into traffic and headed toward Manhattan. After pressing a few controls on the steering wheel, the autopilot light turned green and Neil removed his hands to stretch. The car smoothly merged through the barricades to the left lane on its own and accelerated.
“Did we just drive through a wall?” Cassie asked, calmer than she felt.
Neil chuckled while checking messages on his phone. “Not exactly. The left lanes are reserved for autopilot only. The barricades move out of the way for autopiloted cars, but not human drivers. Don’t you have the same thing in Minnesota?”
“Actually no. The barricades would get in the way of the snowplows.” She watched the other cars around them intently.
“Does the autopilot make you nervous?”
Cassie laughed aloud. “I thought you knew all about me. I fly drones at over two-hundred miles per hour with AI assisted autopilot.”
Without looking up at Cassie or the road Neil nodded sagely. “Maybe it’s that when you fly the drones you aren’t actually in them. And, if I understand correctly, sometimes the drones go boom.”
Who have you been talking to? Dale? Earlier Neil hadn’t appeared to know about the exploding drone.
“Very funny,” Cassie mumbled. “Let me guess, Crow Research does the AI programming for these too?”
“Actually no, but Darrow did make his early fortune with artificial intelligence. That was when the company was still called Darrow Investments.”
Their sedan started to slow. The cars in front and behind kept their pace to maintain equal distance. In a smooth almost choreographed movement, all the cars banked through a series of sharp curves together and then sped back up. Ahead of them Cassie saw the three stone entrances that marked this side of the old Lincoln Tunnel.
“You know, when they completed the new bridges and tunnels to the north there was talk of shutting down the Lincoln Tunnel rather than repairing it.” Neil gestured at the dashboard. “The expansion of autopiloted cars saved it. Instead of abandoning them, the tunnels were retrofitted specifically for the use of autonomous vehicles so they could move through three times as fast.”
They zipped into the tunnel at speeds well beyond the earlier speed limit and faster than a human could control. Each car communicated with the ones in front and behind allowing them to coordinate their separation. The cars in front automatically relaying updates on traffic and road conditions to those behind.
Neil finished checking messages and finally turned toward her. “With the autopilot express lanes, we’ll be there soon.”
He was still looking sideways at her when the car veered sharply to the right. His eyes went wide in surprise as he grabbed the steering wheel. The car made an unhealthy crunching noise as it hit the right-side rail hard. Sparks flew off the rail as the car scraped across it.
Neil pulled the wheel back to the left with considerable effort. The car swerved to the left sending chunks of the reinforced plastic barrier between lanes in the air. Just as quickly it swerved back right, slamming into the rail again. Neil struggled to keep up with the changing directions as he tried to exert some control over the car. It was as if the car intentionally fought him. He pressed down on the brake with both feet, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. The autopilot light continued to glow green.
Cassie pried her hands from their death grip on the dash and fumbled in her bag. Touching the cool metal of the knife she pulled it out and flipped it open. She almost dropped it as the car brushed off the left barricade again. Throwing her bag into the back seat she clicked off her seat belt. Half bending and half twisting she tried to get her upper body under the dash. When the car hit the right rail again her head smashed into the dash. The sharp pain made her scream.
Blinking the stars out of her eyes she shoved the seat all the way back. Twisting herself further down and up, she managed to position herself upside down on the floor, her feet on the seat. She returned to prying at a plastic cover under the dash. She used the knife to lever the cover apart and grabbed the edge with her other hand. Yanking with all her strength, the plastic made cracking noises and finally popped free.
Inside was a collection of ribbon connectors and wires. Without selecting anything specific, she started sawing through them. The car swerved the other direction and Neil grunted when she accidentally kicked him in the head. With a snap, the knife cut through the rest of the wires and slipped free.
The autopilot light went out as the engine power started decreasing. The car stopped swerving as Neil appeared to regain control. Carefully, she maneuvered herself back into the seat. There was a definite wobbling from the front right wheel, and they seemed to be dragging a piece of the car, but otherwise they were intact. Having reached the opposite side of the tunnel they emerged into the early light of the Manhattan morning. Neil pulled the car over into an emergency lane and brought it to a stop.
Ten minutes later they were sitting on the side of the road being treated by a paramedic. Several small flicker drones hovered low in the air above them before hopping to rest on nearby signs and light posts. The other cars in the tunnel had automatically dispatched emergency signals. Police had been on the way before they were even out of the tunnel.
Cassie had some cuts on her hand from the plastic and a huge bump on the side of her head. She was pressing a cold compress against it. Neil was shaken but mostly uninjured except for a blackening eye where Cassie had kicked him. The car had not been so fortunate. The right front tire was flat and no longer pointed in the correct direction. Both front quarter panels were destroyed with long rips in their sides.
An attorney and driver from Darrow Industries arrived soon after the police. Cassie was amazed at how soon they were able to get there. The attorney took the police aside to compare notes, leaving her and Neil alone.
“I’m sorry about the eye,” she told him.
“It’s not the first time I’ve been beaten up by a woman.” Before she could ask, he explained, “I have two sisters. Where did you learn to disable a car’s autopilot? That wasn’t in your file.”
“Good to know I still have some secrets. I had a boyfriend in college who moonlighted as an automotive technician. His idea of a date was working on a car in his garage. I helped him replace several autopilot control modules before we broke up.”
The attorney walked back over to them. “Everything’s taken care of here. You two can go. I’ll follow-up with the police tomorrow and let you know if they need any other information.”
“Wait, that’s it?” Cassie asked. “They don’t want to ask us any questions or even check Neil’s license? That car did just try to kill us.”
“The car verified Mr. Larson’s identity through his IPU when you got in the car. Video of the incident has already been transmitted to the police from the cars that were around you and the monitoring equipment in the tunnel. There really isn’t anything more you can add at this time.” The man made his best attempt at a comforting smile. “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet. I’m sorry you’ve had this unfortunate experience, but I’m told these things happen.”
“Really? Who told you that?”
The attorney started to open his mouth then shut it again. His smile dropped into a slight frown.
“Gloria has a car nearby,” Neil interjected before Cassie could say anything else. “She’ll take us to the hotel. Mr. Darrow wishes to have a late dinner with us tonight. He’ll send someone for you at seven o’clock.”
For a moment Cassie considered pressing the attorney further. Technical glitches like this didn’t seem like something which happened that often. That combined with the number of people who had been chasing her lately had her suspicious. Then again, the FBI wouldn’t try to kill her over the drone-train incident. And if Thomas did come after her again, he’d make it more personal. Really, Cassie didn’t have any experience with a traffic system as automated or large as this one. She supposed it was possible this was a glitch. At least she could give them the benefit of the doubt. For now. Later she would need to do some research.
Gloria, it turned out, looked more like a football linebacker than a driver. She helped them both into a black Mercedes-Benz electric sedan. She only said a few words during the quick drive through Manhattan and that was fine with Cassie.
The stress and adrenaline of the last hour was rapidly fading, leaving Cassie exhausted with a throbbing headache. Once they arrived at the hotel and she was alone in her room, Cassie quickly lost her battle to stay awake.
Chapter 11
IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON when Cassie woke up. She laid in the bed for several minutes, appreciating the way it wrapped her in a warm embrace. The sheets were heavy and soft. The pillows, all five of them, extremely fluffy. The room was dark from heavy blackout drapes. Part of her wanted to just curl back up and go back to sleep. The other part said she needed to get up, think things through before she met with Darrow. Finally, she compromised between the two voices in her head and settled on a hot shower.
In her apartment, the hot water ran out in less than five minutes. Here she just stood under the steaming water from multiple shower heads for a good twenty minutes before dragging herself out to towel off. Parts of her body were sore, finally registering the jostling and bumping they experienced in the car.
Tying a heavy cotton robe around her she went out into the room. By her standards it was an opulent suite. The outer living room had a couch and work desk, a small kitchen area, and the bedroom with connected bathroom. Given the location in New York City the cost must have been enormous.
Her head ached slightly, as much from the blow it took earlier as from caffeine withdrawal. She looked around the room but didn’t see a coffee maker. When she dialed the front desk and asked about where to get coffee, they said some would be sent up shortly.
“Mr. Darrow maintains several rooms with full service for his guests,” the man at the front desk explained. “In the future you can also ask the hotel’s AI for anything you need. It can be addressed as Robert.”
A few minutes later a room service attendant arrived. He opened the living room drapes, arranged coffee and scones on a small table by the window, before excusing himself. She sat at the table and gazed out at Manhattan for several minutes. It was a lot to soak in.
The buildings were a mix of shining steel and glass interspersed with much shorter, and older, stone buildings. Most of the roofs held green gardens, bordering on miniature forests. As much camouflage against the Sylph as environmental features, she assumed.
Stretched between several of the buildings were transparent metal and composite mesh canopies. She had heard they were originally designed to provide protection against the Sylph but based on her experience with their weapons she recognized they were at most a psychological tool to help people feel safer.
Retrieving her small foldable tablet computer from her bag, she rolled it out on the table and made a connection to the hotel network. Then she opened a message application to an encrypted chatroom. She typed in a quick message to let Lizzy know they were off the hook for the drone and she would be out of town for a while.
Next, she started collecting her thoughts into a mental list of things she knew, didn’t know, and things she had questions about. Events had been moving so fast she hadn’t had time to process them yet. Now, she finally did.
Peter Darrow and his company needed something from her. That much was clear. They had spent a lot of effort and money to get her here. What did they need though? It sounded like they just wanted a drone pilot who liked engineering puzzles, but there had to be more to it than that.
She was good, although someone with Darrow’s resources could hire better—someone more qualified at minimum. Not to mention someone without FBI entanglements. Yes, they’d known about the FBI, and no, it didn’t seem to deter their interest, but even with Darrow’s immense influence, why was he willing to wield it for her? Besides, it was odd that when she initially mentioned the drone and train, Neil didn’t appear to know what she was talking about.
Now that she was rested and caffeinated, something about the whole FBI situation didn’t make sense. How did they track her down less than an hour after the drone was destroyed? The train would have reported the explosion immediately, but even if Lizzy had left a trace in a cell tower or network somewhere—highly unlikely—it would take time to backtrack it to her.
How could the agents have beat her to the sandwich shop? Unless ... unless they were there because of something else. But what? Her barnstorming in general?
A tone from her tablet interrupted her thoughts. Lizzy had sent a reply.
>>> Where are you? And how did you pay off Thomas so quickly? You didn’t agree to start running ... you know? Did you?
<<< No! No. You know I’d never. It’s a long story. Let’s just say I got an advance on a possible contract.
She stared out at the skyline, sipping her coffee for a few seconds before deciding. She just didn’t have enough information about her situation, and she would need to change that.
<<< I need a favor.
>>> Name it.
<<< I need you to send out some spider searches for me.
>>> Sure, but why can’t you?
<<< I’m probably being monitored.
There was a several minute pause. Cassie waited patiently. She knew Lizzy was rerouting her connection through extra nodes, opening blocking software, and putting a sniffer on the system to look for ease dropping. Lizzy had the perfect combination of paranoia and technical ability.
>>> Okay, we’re secure. What do you need?
Cassie smiled to herself.
<<< Anything out of the ordinary about Peter Darrow. Things most people wouldn’t know.
She thought for a second and then added:
<<< And find out how many times an autopilot has gone wacky in the Lincoln Tunnel.
>>> On it.
Cassie laid the tablet down while she explored the rest of the suite. She found the bedroom closet filled with several changes of clothes. Each newly made, matched her sense of fashion, with a ... sturdy look to them. As if someone knew where to get designer clothes that were made to be worn, not just be seen in. And they were all in her size.
Of course, they are. They’d probably hacked her clothing purchase history.
She selected dark green denim jeans and a white long-sleeve shirt. On the bottom shelf, she found a pair of brown boots. Fancy hair just wasn’t something she did, so she pulled her hair back into a fresh ponytail.
The person in the full-length mirror was hard to recognize. She’d never owned clothes like this before. In fact, she’d often mocked the college girls that came into the sandwich shop with their designer outfits. Too much time and money on clothes, not enough on things that really mattered. Looking at herself in the mirror she acknowledged maybe, just maybe, there were times when this was okay. She wished Grandpa could see her.
The tablet beeped to get her attention. Lizzy had sent a reply already.
>>>Surface data, Darrow made most of his money during the economic turmoil after Net-Day. There are several conspiracy theories that say he got tipped off in advance so he could take advantage of it. There have been three attempts on his life by nutjobs who think he is a monster in a mask or has an alien overlord.
Amusing. Not currently relevant, but she’d told Lizzy to look for offbeat things.
>>> On the Lincoln Tunnel, during the first month a car’s autopilot malfunctioned and stopped in the middle of the tunnel and wouldn’t move. Took an hour to pull it out and clear the tunnel. A year ago, there was a fatal crash that was initially thought to be an autopilot error but turned out to be a suicide. The driver had intentionally reprogrammed the autopilot to kill himself. That’s when they added new tamper resistance to the systems.
So, it was only Neil’s car that had achieved sentience and tried to gain its freedom by killing its passengers? Right. Cassie thought for a moment. A malfunction was possible, but why would Darrow’s attorney imply this happened occasionally? That wasn’t true. Was he just trying to calm her? Possible. Could someone have hacked the car’s autopilot? Also, possible but also unlikely. The security measures in place for autopilot vehicles would be difficult to overcome.
