Media stared out to earth, the colors were surprisingly different from a sunrise down on earth. She had smuggled a whole crate of mechanical pencil lead, well in fact it was pure graphite but no scanners would pick up anything strange. Planning rarely went the way one thought, Media knew this too well, she stopped planning a few weeks after actually being in the field.
Patience is useful, plans are not, even if the plan seems to work there is always a better way to do it. Americans were never really good at making AI, they did great semiconductors but lousy code, their Engineers barely understood mathematics. Media knew enough to know she didn’t know anything, which was more than the American engineers.
“Entirely artificial” A voice rang in her mind, a signal sent through a needle implant in her nerve, similar to an earpiece, undetectable conductive organic polymer, undetectable and very useful.
“Thanks baba” Media thought, yet another implant sent the signal back, the ping was slow in space, but then again patience was needed. Soviet code did not rely on AI, it was Intelligence but rather it came from imaging of a brain. The government gave everyone the option of uploading their mind into a main server. Baba was now Media’s eye on the Matrix, right now she had confirmed the Americans had not yet developed something entirely from nothing.
Sabotage, of course, then again creating AI’s was forbidden to them after the Y2K fiasco, it had become entirely independent thanks to a bug and SHRUB had tried to erase the middle east in a single nuclear barrage. It was an informatic war, PAH (pronounced ran), the AI in charge of the Jakumo institute’s supercomputer was the one to notice it and end SHRUB’s attempt.
Don’t do plans and wait. Though the Luna base looked entirely different. Why were the Americans so hateful of the Mexicans but still use their language even for their lunar bases? Hard to be racist when your immigrants enter Mexico and become refugees, some adults don’t even know how to read, that always impressed Media, one had to pay for basic human rights.
Well it was a good thing her English had been trained to sound neutral, even a bit New Yorker, nobody questioned the rudeness, it made them commit mistakes, many times her passport had glaring errors but fear made customs agents skim through it. They were watchful of men and brownish people, Media was exactly what they didn’t expect and hence she was assigned to look at this new Lunar supercomputer.
Patience, Media had entered MIT with forged credentials, Baba had made sure they checked against the database. Actually learn Computer Engineering, they had great logic but was primitive compared to the brain synapses, their semiconductors made up for it in speed.
Wait for the second semester and take a field trip to Luna base. Once inside Media had to find a way into the server and leave the payload, perhaps even leave evidence of young Maria being caught in the blast, the Americans wouldn’t even know Media was there.
“Scheduled visit to the server room. They sell tickets to the base, your alias is GR3EN, tomorrow morning. Take care” that last bit was slightly lost, they were now in jammer range. They sell tickets to military bases? Probably far away from the compound.
Not really, the Luna base was far different from how Media imagined it. She now understood why it was so hard to infiltrate it this time. Yet so easy once she passed the filter, the filter in question was a far guy dressed in a green uniform looking at her passport and let her pass.
They did not let Mark, the buff, blonde, coreback of the team enter, he looked Russian, he had as much understanding of Russian as Media did of Greek, yet they deemed him Russian looking because he looked too much like a villain from an 80’s movie.
The customs agent didn’t even bother to check Media’s bags, no clothes no books no cameras, everything was packed with graphite.
The next day nobody questioned when she came with her bags, they assumed the New Yorker was used to Hotel clerks stealing bags, they made fun of her, then agreed that the Luna base was weird now. There were red banners everywhere and many wore red caps over their head, LUNA, they said, Media didn’t bother to ask, asking too much would give her away.
During the lunch break she managed to break out of the group and some wet toilet paper placed in a good spot caused the lights to go out in the sector for a moment. The failure was simple, before the engineers could find it she had to move.
The server room was not exactly well guarded either. Almost like these people wanted it to die. Media ran into a couple of customs agents, they waved at her “Hey guys” Media said in a Californian accent “I need like, go real bad. I need to change like right now”
The guys pointed at the nearest bathroom, she rushed to it, then waited for the guys to get distracted to slowly walk into the main server room.
TRIUMPH in big gold letters set over a white slab of marble. Media kicked her handbag at the biggest terminal she could find, graphite dust began to scatter into the air, the terminal short circuited, an alarm began blaring.
The engineers looked at Media with concern, she grabbed a pen and the closest engineer she could find. Their eyes went directly to the main server, it was right below the white marble plaque, she rolled her eyes, it was like these guys had no idea about this actual situation.
“Triumph has survived other assassination attem…” The words of the engineer Media was holding were stopped once she let go of him and tossed her big luggage at the server, everything went dark, a fire started to break out.
Media ran out, perhaps a bit of the server could survive, but TRIUMPH was as good as dead. The escape was as chaotic as she expected it, a downside of not really planning things, but Media went into these missions with the idea that she had lived a long enough life, she has, not for a soldier but for a person overall.
She found an emergency mask, she searched her pockets and put on gloves, she had come prepared for this. She was out in the void soon enough, the fire had eaten through some of the atmospheric layers.
“Baba, it’s done, covered in graphite” Using emergency mask and a makeshift space suit she had fashioned from duct tape from the store earlier today, a pair of leather gloves dipped in wax. Media kind of had a death wish, she was tired, she knew another one just like TRIUMPH could arise again, she knew this game would never be over, at least she could die a hero.
The shuttle arrived soon. Baba had a way of knowing what type of stunt Media would pull, probably Baba thought of how the most lethal way of doing the job would be, then go from that. The tape was ripping already, her skin itched all over, she could hear her heart.
The voices were familiar, she knew none of these people. Chinese, Media spoke enough Mandarin to know that they were surprised she was even alive, they thought this was a retrieval mission.
“Water” Media said the best she could, it was good enough because they neared a tube to her mouth, she took a sip and let it hang in her mouth.
“We will take you to doctor” one of them said to Media, he had a thick accent but his Russian was clear, strange, neither spoke each other’s language fully but they spoke enough.
Baba spoke again “Not today honey, this life is bad, feel for me”
Media sighed, she had no answer for it, perhaps Baba was right. Media saw her grandma grow old, she was there when she died and now a copy of her mind kept an eye on her. The government allowed good server space for her because of Media’s status as an intelligence agent.
Maybe it was time to stop seeing this as a prison, Media felt her body had not failed her yet, perhaps this was all a gift. Perhaps she should make a honey cake and eat it, she had not done that in quite a while. Baba loved honey cake and tea, Media had not thought when was the last time she had that.
Editorial 