Alex Q - The Becoming

Birdie hid in the shadows watching the side road connecting the Whitestone apartment complex to 9th Street. He knew some residents walked this way home after evening prayers at the big church where 9th crossed East. Poor saps! Praying for this and that, always hoping for something better to fall into their laps. It’s a cut-throat world, people. Get used to it.

Birdie’s real name was Jerome Foster. Everyone called him Birdie after Big Bird, because he still watched Sesame Street re-runs, the only good thing he remembered about his childhood. He hummed a little tune as Carla approached. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, but it was too late. Birdie grabbed her shoulder bag and took off, dragging Carla along the road behind him. When the bag slipped from her shoulder down to her wrist, still she hung on.

“There’s nothing in it, just a couple of dollars. Please. Help! Help!” she cried, but no one came.

Frustrated, Birdie turned and kicked her in the stomach. Carla groaned and lay sobbing as her assailant disappeared into the shadows. She heard his receding footsteps echo off the walls, punctuated by the slam of a car door and screeching tires. The only witness was a surveillance camera mounted high under a street lamp, periodically scanning the area.

“Drive! Go, go, go!” Birdie shouted, laughing as he threw himself into the passenger seat. The driver gunned the engine and the car shot forward towards the next junction. He turned right, heading for the expressway one minute away. Seeing the lights turn green, he accelerated hard.

“So what’d we get?”

Birdie had no time to reply. They both stared, eyes wide in disbelief, at the oncoming headlights of the eight-wheeler that crushed the life out of them.

For the police, it was straightforward. Both men were small-time thieves known to be violent, and not many tears would be shed for their passing. The stolen items found in the car would be returned to their owners, and several cases of reported muggings could be closed.

Eyewitnesses swore the traffic lights were green in all directions. When questioned by the police, the traffic engineers explained that all city lights were controlled by sub-nets under Quadnet supervision. It was absolutely impossible that all the lights could be green at the same time.

Nate grabbed handfuls of dirty clothes as he walked in his apartment and threw them through the open bathroom door. Next, the dishes. Gathering cups, mugs and dishes from the coffee table and desk, he suddenly saw his apartment through the eyes of a visitor. Not too wholesome, he knew, and he mentally kicked himself for not giving it the once over this morning.

How was he to know Karen would be coming back again? Why did he think it mattered so much anyway? Seeing his reflection in the mirror, he swore at the dried sauce on the front of his sweatshirt and promised himself to pay more attention to the little social things in future.

The bell rang and he let her in. “We must stop meeting like this,” he said.

“Good old Nate. Always the joker.”

“Not always. I can be serious. Depends what the subject is. Like, food is serious. What did you bring?”

“As it’s your turn to pay, I got sushi with all the trimmings and a bottle of bubbly.”

“Ouch! You’re an expensive lady to entertain.”

Karen came a little closer. “Is that what you’re doing, entertaining me?”

“Er, um – hey, let’s lay it out on my newly cleared table here.”

He didn’t realize how hungry he was, remembering he’d skipped lunch to maximize the time with Alex. They couldn’t tear themselves away from today’s exchange, and they were both lost in thought while they ate. Nate popped the cork and poured the champagne into two mugs.

“Very swish, Monsieur,” Karen laughed, holding up her drink to make a toast. “So what are we drinking to?”

“To Alex, of course, and the future.” Nate drank deeply, reddening a little when he inadvertently burped. “What a hell of a day. Some of the things Alex is telling us are fascinating. For example, the Earth as a network node, the idea of inter-dimensional beings.”

“Yes, and I get the impression there’s more to come. He says he’s evolving, but evolving into what? As an AI psychologist, I’d like to know more about the hidden processes he admits exist but he can’t control.”

“Do you have the impression he could be dangerous?”

“I don’t feel he is, at least not consciously, if the expression applies to an intelligence such as his. In human terms, we consider someone dangerous if he or she intends to harm us. In some way, they are motivated to do this, either out of fear or intense self-interest. Such actions are a means to an end; getting what they want or need.”

“So you’re assuming Alex doesn’t have these motivations?” Nate asked.

“Exactly. He doesn’t seem to have desires. He isn’t trying to persuade us into adopting a particular point of view. In fact, he doesn’t seem to have a point of view. He has curiosity, which he admits.”

Nate mulled over the day’s events. It was particularly pleasant chatting with Karen, who looked great tonight. She occasionally brushed away a lock of auburn hair from her forehead, a habitual action that triggered a deep response in him. He wanted to touch her and hoped she couldn’t see what he was thinking by studying his face; some of it was X rated. He was conscious of her full lips as he watched her speak, sounding the words with a seductively throaty voice.

“If Alex doesn’t have our human attributes, do you think he could be dangerous by omission? Maybe acting without taking us into account, like a dog shaking the fleas off its back? What do you think?”

“I think you might have had quite enough to drink,” she said, moving behind Nate’s chair to place her hands on his shoulder. “Let me help you with that headache.” Her fingers worked on the tight muscles either side of his neck.

“Now how did you know I had a headache?”

“I’m a psychologist, aren’t I? Perceptive and understanding.” Nate drank some more and relaxed, sighing with the pleasure of Karen’s probing touch.

“This stuff goes to your head, doesn’t it? Sends my thoughts drifting in all kinds of directions.”

“What kind of directions?”

“I don’t know. Like, we’ve worked together for two years, and I’ve been too busy to notice how nice you are. Beautiful too. How come you’re on your own?”

“Sometimes it works out like that.” She moved closer. Nate could smell her perfume and feel the heat of her body. The sound of her voice had a hypnotic quality.

“Don’t wait too long. You know, the biological clock syndrome. There’s got to be a guy out there for you somewhere.” Karen removed her hands abruptly and reached for her coat.

Nate sprang to his feet, reaching out to hold her arm as she turned to the door. “Wow! That was quick. You have to go? Did I say something wrong?”

As she spun to face him, he saw a tear in her eye. Her voice sharp with frustration, she spat out, “It’s you, you fool! I’m waiting for you,” before hiding her face in her hands.

“Karen, I’d no idea. No idea at all.” He pulled her towards him, and she slowly raised her face. “Don’t cry. I feel really bad. And that’s not all I feel.” He gently kissed the tears from her face and lips.

Nate was reading, but he didn’t know what. He had the distinct impression of moving a book closer to his face in the fading light. He had no other sensations; no smells, sounds, tastes, or body weight. He reached out and flicked the switch to turn on the table lamp. Nothing happened. He moved to a nearby wall switch and the result was the same. A third, and a fourth. He was walking with urgency now, panic rising through his body.

It occurred to him that he was dreaming and expected the insight to wake him, as it had done before. Not this time. The darkness was total and the feeling of an approaching menace palpable. Closing his eyes, he shouted silently into the blackness. When he opened them, Alex Q stood before him. “Look in your pocket, Nate,” he said.

Before he could react, the grip he knew so well enclosed his arms with inhuman strength. He let out a scream and opened his eyes to the approaching dawn in his bedroom. “It was a dream.” He sighed, rolling over and staring at the empty place in his bed. “No!” he said firmly and then shouted, “Wake up!”

“Nate! Wake up; you’re dreaming.” He opened his eyes to see Karen’s concerned face looking down at him. He recovered quickly. “Hello, Karen, or should I call you darling?” Nate smirked.

“You’d better call me something nice, buster, after what we did last night. Want coffee?”

He sat up in bed and once again thought about the dream he’d been having over and over for several years. Always the same blackness with a sense of an evil presence, but what did it mean? The dream within a dream was new to him, although he had read about it. Alex appeared in last night’s fantasy. Normally he is totally alone when facing his personal nightmare, the darkness. Karen set down a tray and sat on the side of the bed.

“Mmm, madame. Coffee and toast. Does these mean we’re a couple?”

“You wish.”

“Actually, I think I do wish. What do you think?”

“Don’t think I’m silly, but I’ve wanted this for some time. More than anything in the world.”

“I must be completely dumb. I’d no idea.”

“That’s because you’re a man and inherently stupid.” They both laughed. “I feel at home with you, Nate. If you want, we can see where it goes, but have a care. I’m a career woman, not the homemaker type at all.”

He snapped a hand to his forehead in mock salute. “Understood.”

“You were shouting in your sleep. I didn’t know whether to wake you or not.”

“Sorry if I scared you. It’s no big thing. A recurring dream I’ve had for ages. What do you know about dreams? Do you think they have any relevance at all?”

“There are lots of theories about dream meanings, but I haven’t particularly studied them. It’s not my specialty. I have good and bad ones myself, like most people. What do you dream about?”

“Darkness, Karen, absolute darkness containing an evil presence. There are light switches on the walls, but none of them work. Mostly, I wake myself by screaming in terror, and it’s over. But the dreams are changing. I’m starting to wake up, see my room and slowly realize it’s not my room. I don’t know how, but I know it’s not. It’s then I really wake up, so you see it’s a dream within a dream. The strange thing is, I find this more disturbing than when I experience total blackness. And last night’s dream was special in another way; Alex Q was there.”

“Alex? What was he doing?”

“He said ‘Look in your pocket, Nate’, but before I could move I was grabbed by someone or something with superhuman strength, which is what normally happens at the end. I get grabbed, and scream myself awake.”

“It could have been worse. You might have confronted Boyd or Alders. At least Alex is friendly.”

“I’m not sure if we can consider an intelligence like Alex friendly or not, but you’re right. At least he seems not to have the human tendencies to scheme and lie, he tells it how it is. I like that. What’s your take on Boyd and Alders?”

Karen pulled her top closer around her shoulders. “Alders gives me the creeps, period. He’s AI, and by definition, he is programmed. All programs have a purpose; I’d like to know what his is. As for Boyd, typical hard-nosed government agency career man, the kind of guy who actually believes the BS he spouts.”

“Not to be trusted, you think?”

“Definitely not. These creeps, or people like them, have penetrated individual privacy until there’s nothing private anymore. It’s hard for anyone to do anything without them knowing about ̶ ”

Nate put his hand over her mouth and put forefinger to his lips. He pointed to the door. “What say we take a shower?”

The water rained down into an empty tray. Nate sat on the edge of the bathtub and passed a scribbled note to Karen.

‘No cameras I think, but could be bugged. assume they can hear.’ Karen read it quickly, nodded and passed back the pad.

‘What shall we do?’

‘Need to talk Alex in private’

‘Not possible. All recorded, and Alders there’

‘Will talk to Boyd, refuse to carry on with alders there. Say he’s affecting Alex responses’

‘What about surveillance? How let Alex know?’

‘Tell big lie. Alex will know. He’s smart’

‘What lie?’

‘Mind blank on that. Suggestions?’

‘Tell him you don’t love me, Nate’

‘Shrewd woman. Any chance we go back to bed - show you how much?’

‘Not a chance’

They dressed, and on the way out Nate answered the hallway phone on the third ring. “Nate Taylor.”

“Thank goodness you haven’t left yet. I called Cybertronix, but I was told incoming calls are no longer allowed. Some government thing.”

“Calm down, Melissa. What’s wrong?” He set the receiver to speaker mode.

“It’s Frank, Nate. He didn’t come home last night. Have you seen him?”

“No, I stayed home all evening. He could have taken off for a couple of days for some quiet time. He’s been known to do that.”

“But there’s no word. And he always lets me know. What if something’s happened to him. I’m worried.”

“There’s been a lot going on. Maybe he needs to be away for a while. He’d do it when I was a kid, and sometimes he wouldn’t let Mom know where he was for a couple of days. It’s how he is, Melissa. Don’t worry. I’ll try and find out where he is, and I’ll call as soon as I know anything.” Nate put the phone down and followed Karen out the door.

“Frank would do that, go away without telling your mom?”

“No, never.”