Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
[Part Five]
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
I snickered a bit. Bomb the Web? That's nothing short of ridiculous.
"How, exactly, were you going to do that?"
Her jaw was again set in a scowl.
"You're going to have to drop that snarky-ass tone if you want me to keep answering your questions like a goddamn schoolgirl."
Awfully foul-mouthed for a schoolgirl. "Yeah, ok. So, how?"
She stretched her hands, twisting first the left and then the right until they made a tiny grinding sound, closed her eyes, and began.
"I designed a computer program to systematically hijack servers-basically big computers that handle network traffic- and then use them to ping other servers and computers thousands of times a second, basically overloading them with information. The program would then tell its servers to turn off their cooling fans and run at maximum processor speed, which would set the physical servers on fire."
She drummed on the wheel idly in time with the raindrops, although she didn't seem to be doing it deliberately, lost in thought.
I sighed. "That's a hell of a program."
She stopped drumming. "It worked, by the way. Accidentally let it loose on some websites based in Brazil, but it burned all of its bridges and basically got stuck. That was an older version. Unfortunately, AL isn't quite as reckless."
"Al?" I asked, incredulous. "Of all the names you could have given to a destructive virus, you gave it Al?"
"AL's not a virus," she retorted defensively, "he's an artificial intelligence, and the first one of his kind, as far as I can tell." She chuckled to herself for a moment. "In one of my moments of good humor, I named him AL because I misread some of my notes that said A I, in capital letters, which looked a little like AL."
She drew in breath almost as if she was gathering thoughts.
“Are you familiar with the idea of artificial intelligence?”
I thought for a moment. She decided to explain it anyway.
“Artificial intelligence, or A.I., is basically a thinking computer. A computer that can make its own decisions, learn, and communicate, like a human.”
She continued excitedly, obviously enthralled with her pet project. Lightening lit up the sky again, but Ana didn't seem to notice.
“It was often regarded as impossible. I ignored all the doubters, and I succeeded! I created a synthetic thinking being!”
Her smile disappeared. "He was a project, a brainchild born out of the code of that first destructive program, but with reasoning and intelligence. Basically he's unstoppable once he's plugged into the Internet, and we're stuck in a car with no gas and no battery...."
She almost looked like she was crying.
I don't have much experience with people, but I tried to comfort her. She's violent, but the only person I know, and I should try to keep her calm, for both of our sake.
"Ana, we'll stop him, somehow. Maybe hitchhike."
She jumped, startled. “...How do you know my name?”
I closed my eyes for a moment in thought.
“A phone...your phone...rang a while back. Woman named Jen wanted you to know she was waiting for you at the airport.”
“Sounds like Jen, all right. She...” Her sentence died. Lightning flashed once, leaving red circles as if we had our picture taken.
“Where is the phone?”
I rummaged around my feet. “Um,” I said. “Oh, here it is. Why?”
She sat back and exhaled deeply. “We're even more fucked than I thought. AL's already over the border.” She flicked her eyes toward me and back to the road. “Wait, you talked to Jen?"
"Well, she yelled and swore at me. I guess that counts."
Her stomach rumbled.
“Hey, I'm hungry. Sign says there's a gas station a mile up the road.”
“Ana, it's torrents outside. Do you have any money anyway?”
She didn't need any time to think, apparently, because she followed me up immediately with a “no.”
“I know because I tried to get coffee earlier today, and I was twelve cents short. I ended up just sitting in the shop and watching TV....” She trailed off, and threw me a split-second look that could only be described as terror. I frowned.
“You all right?”
“...Yeah, I'm fine.” She obviously was nothing of the sort, unless “fine” meant “scared shitless,” and I don't think it does.
“You know you were on TV recently, right?”
“Why would I know that? I don't remember watching TV ever, let alone today, let alone being filmed for it.”
She breathed deeply. “Right...well, I don't mean to alarm you, but...” She trailed off, as if she had suddenly lost confidence.
“But?”
She sighed again. “....You're....in trouble...law trouble.”
WHAT.
“...WHAT.”
Of course I don't ask anything helpful, only the stupid obligatory question.
She flicked her eyes back to the road. “I don't know what you did, but there's an APB out for you.”
She snorted. “I forget exactly what APB means, it's not good...but not any worse than me.”
I mentally reeled in confusion. “Wait, I have and APB out for me, so...” I trailed off, before finding the words to complete my question, without sounding like an ass.
“So...what does that make you? A terrorist?” I snickered at my little joke. Hee hurr.
She turned to me for a moment before turning back to the road. I could hardly see her face, but I didn't need to look to see her bitter shame. Whoops.
“Yep.”
