Mirage walked down the hall toward the ‘Scapers quarters. As he did so, he saw Feld, with one hand holding his side, leaning against the doorjamb of the recovery room.
Mirage immediately rushed over to help his friend. “Feld! What are you doing up? Budo didn’t say you were ready to be up and around just yet.”
“Well, I’ve been awake for a while and I haven’t seen her,” Feld replied. “Where is she?” After seeing the look on Mirage’s face, Feld asked, “Mirage, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Budo. I… She asked me to do a diagnostic check on her last night and…”
Feld’s eyes widened considerably. “You didn’t unlock her memories, did you? Tell me you didn’t. Frell. Frelling frell! Where is she?”
Mirage shrugged. “Her room, I think.”
“C’mon. I need to get to her soon. Help me along.”
Feld draped an arm around his friend’s shoulders as they hobbled their way to Budo’s quarters. The door was open, but the room was empty. However, Mirage noted, the once tidy floor was a sea of strewn clothes, most of which consisted of the simple sashed dresses she typically wore.
As they looked at each other questioningly, a loud series of metallic crashes came from the direction of the exercise room. As quickly as they could muster, they continued down the hall to investigate. Once they got there, they saw a whirling form of blue silk, coppertone hair and the telltale flash of a polished katana blade. Off to the side, several previously locked metal doors had been pulled off CJ’s weapons lockers and lay atop each other on the floor.
“Budo!” Feld yelled.
Budo immediately stopped mid-form, the katana in one hand, a smaller wakizashi in the other. She was dressed in a bright blue silk kimono, sans obi, so the swirling fabric opened up to reveal snug blue silk undergarments. The kimono and undergarments were black-bordered and decorated in black with the two Kanji characters found on her upper thigh. Her hair was pulled up and decorated with a pair of black-enamelled kanzashi, each featuring tiny gilded cats on a gilded chain which made a tinkling sound as they moved. Her eyes burned a bright blue. A single synthetic tear on her cheek caught the light.
“You!” she accused. “You knew?”
“Yes,” Feld answered simply.
“How long?”
“Since the first diagnostic. Two cycles, at least.”
Her eyes flashed. “Hai!” she screamed, threw the smaller blade on the floor and charged him, katana gripped in both hands and raised overhead.
Mirage dove awkwardly away as Feld yelled firmly, “Budo: administrative override: alpha sensei!”
Budo immediately stopped within a pace of him. The katana blade’s killing stroke stood poised, motionless, above his head. Her hands shook. Her eyes burned a bright white.
“Acknowledge.” Feld commanded.
Budo’s hands flexed around the hilt, the katana shaking as obedience fought against will.
“Acknowledge!” Feld repeated.
CJ and the others ran down the hall to see what the commotion was about. CJ was the first in the doorway and gasped at the sight before her. Her hand reached for her blaster.
Budo twisted the blade 90 degrees and laid it to rest flatly on the crown of Feld’s head. “I acknowledge,” she said with barely restrained malice. “This is a dangerous game, you’re playing, Feld. I won’t soon forget this.”
“Perhaps not, but you might forgive me. Eventually.”
“What the frell is going on here?” CJ demanded. The others crowded in the doorway behind her while Mirage got back up on his feet. “Feld, what are you doing up? And why is Budo dressed like a Nipponese tralk? And what the frell is she doing with my antique katana?”
Budo hissed back. “This antique,” she said with derision, “is a piece of dren.” With a flicker of motion, the katana sailed through the air and landed blade first into the floor behind her.
CJ was shocked. “Budo?! Feld, what the frell?”
Feld wobbled a bit on his feet and clutched his side. “Budo, come here and help me. Everyone, let’s go back to the bar. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
As everyone filed out to the bar, Feld jokingly said to Mirage, “Dude, nice job helping me out back there.”
“Hey, what can I say? Swordplay’s not my thing,” he replied with a chuckle. Turning serious, he said, “Besides, compared to the trouble that you and Solara started, it’s pocket change.”
Feld winced. “How bad is it?”
Mirage shook his head as Budo sadly replied, “Very.” Feld looked at her face. Her eyes were dimmed and she stared at the floor ahead as she walked. Shame had replaced anger.
“I’m sorry, Budo,” Feld said.
Budo shrugged. “I am who I am.”
“You’re more than your past. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Budo’s eyes flashed once as she shot a look at him. “Our past defines us. How you feel about it is your choice. How I feel about it is mine.”
After everyone took a seat around the main table and Feld was helped into his by Budo, Feld noticed an absence. “Where’s Lucretia? Did she leave?”
CJ answered. “She’s in the pit.” Some of the others exchanged nervous glances.
“She’s where?! Why? How long?”
“She’d been less than helpful, antagonistic really. So we had it out. After she confessed to accepting a Mentathian contract for your head, I had Lippy put her there. She’s been in there for about 12 arns now.”
Feld nearly choked. “12 arns!! CJ, you can’t…..”
“No,” Ebony interrupted without taking her eyes off of her stitchery, “she hasn’t. I took her out of it before going to bed last night. She’s recovering in my room.”
CJ was angry. “You want to tell me why you interfered in something that wasn’t your business.”
Ebony was unfazed. “Because she’s necessary.”
“Necessary?! That tralk? For what?”
Ebony looked up. “I’m not sure. All I know is that our future demands that she remain healthy. The details escape me, however. Besides, four arns in that caustic hellhole was already enough to cause severe burns over much of her skin. It was enough punishment for what she’s done.”
CJ sniffed. “I’m not so sure.”
“How is she, Ebs?” Feld asked.
Ebony smiled at him. “She’ll be fine. Her skin is … interesting. It’s responding well to the treatments and regenerating nicely. Her attitude is improving as well. We had a lovely chat this morning over tea.”
CJ rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” Ebony continued, “she’ll be just fine. How are you feeling?”
Feld replied, “Well enough.”
“Feld,” Lippy interrupted, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, luv. I really am. But you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Starting with, what was that bit of theater in the training room?”
Feld sighed heavily and looked at Budo.
“This is going to be a long story.” After seeing some smirks blossom around the table, he explained, “Hey! I just don’t know which details are important to you and which aren’t. I’ve always found it best to avoid self-filtering.”
“That’s ok, Feldy dear,” Ebony soothed. “Just tell the story the best way you can.”
Feld took another look at Budo, who sat there expressionless, before continuing. “Our Budo is indeed a Budo-class robot. However, she was not a boudoir unit per se. She was … is built to be an assassin.”
The smiles vanished as all eyes turned to Budo. Cel was the first to ask. “Wouldn’t the Safeguard Protocols prevent that sort of behavior?”
“Yes, they would. However, Budo was not built through the normal channels. Let me explain.
“For those of you who don’t know, in the years preceding the Commerce Wars on Earth, Mitsubishi Cybernetics’ most talented android designer was Denji Omamura. Back then, it was customary to use the designer’s name when marketing the product as androids, especially synthoids, were also considered works of art. The engineers’ names were also used as marks of quality. When the new budo units were being marketed, they were simply called, in English, ‘Boudoir Unit, Denji Omamura’. BUDO.
“When Mitsubishi Cybernetics began to market these units abroad, the English-speaking countries would pronounce the acronym as a word, as is their way. They would order ‘budos’. The Nipponese got a kick out of this because budo, in their language, means ‘the way of the warrior’. This was amusing to them for two reasons. One, the robots were not built for war, quite the opposite some might say, and two, the units were female, a fact not lost on the gender-focused Nipponese.”
Feld paused and gathered his thoughts. “One man’s humor is another man’s dark inspiration. Satoshi Nagawa, then head of the Nippon utilities cartel, contacted Omamura-san on the sly and commissioned the creation of Budo. Our Budo. The true Budo. Her construction would be different from the regular budos in three ways. One, she would be taught and trained in every facet of Nipponese martial arts. Two, she would be Omamura-san’s finest work. And, finally, her Safeguard Protocols would be compromised.
“The hack was subtle. It had to be, in order to pass the required inspections. Additionally, since any android in the vicinity of the scene of any crime would be further inspected, it would have to appear that everything was in order. With that hack in place, Budo was able to carry out her missions.”
CJ’s eyes narrowed. “How? Specifically.”
Feld exhaled, obviously uncomfortable. “A little known fact about the budo units is that they are able to achieve climax during intercourse. It was an undocumented feature that Omamura-san built into all of his budos. It was also one of the reasons behind their popularity. Budo’s hack was that the enforcement of the Protocols would be inhibited for fifteen minutes after climax was achieved. This was done through a diagnostic process that would kick off whenever various energy and activity states peaked past a certain point. The diagnostic process would then launch two other processes. The first would temporarily disable the Protocols. The second would listen for a wireless signal, which, upon receipt, would upload her mission instructions. Fifteen minutes later, the Protocols would kick back in, the instructions would be erased and she’d pass any kind of inspection if she, for some reason, remained at the scene of the crime.
“The MO was simple at first. Nagawa-san would go to various A-list functions with Budo on his arm as his personal courtesan. During the course of the evening, hints would be dropped to the target in question regarding a ‘temporary transferral of ownership’, as it were. At the end of the function, Budo would leave with the enemy CEO, CFO or whomever and, eventually, the hack would be triggered, leading to his death.”
“At least, initially, this is what happened.” Seeing the quizzical looks, Feld continued, “When a dozen or so captains of industry wind up dead following a series of functions, the remaining magnates get a little skittish. They stop attending and they certainly don’t entertain notions of borrowing someone’s budo for the evening. As it happens, it didn’t matter because the tensions behind the Commerce Wars broke out into the open anyway. There would be no cordial gatherings of moguls of varying statures.”
Feld’s features darkened as he marked a new chapter. “Normally, one would think that the cessation of social functions would obviate Budo’s usefulness to him. Au contraire. He didn’t spend all that money on a true Budo just to pimp her out for mere assassinations.” Mirage got up quietly then and went to the bar. “No, Nagawa-san had a robot well versed in the myriad Nipponese martial disciplines and he certainly wasn’t about to waste her. So, he used her for surgical strikes against his opponents. He sent her into battle with a four-man team with orders to do their worst.”
Lippy interrupted, “But, Feld, how could Budo go against the Protocols without … oh.”
Feld nodded. “The team knew how Budo worked. They were used for surgical strikes primarily because of the fifteen minute window of opportunity. After some … ‘prep work’, Budo would receive the wireless instructions and do the job. The problem -”
“The problem,” Budo spat, “was that these men had no honor. I was their plaything, to use as they wished. Their ‘prep work’ was not limited to the jobs at hand and they were most creative about taking advantage of it. They abused and dishonored me, and, as these men were hand-picked by my daimyo, Nagawa-san, and as my programming ensured that I could not resist their “attentions”, they brought dishonor upon him as well. In the end, they all deserved their fates.”
The ominous statement hung in the air for a moment before Kat asked, “Which were?”
Feld continued, “Budo, somehow, became self-programmable. Self-aware, in a sense. I’m not quite sure how or when it happened, but the effects were dramatic. Using a self-built diagnostic process that captured all the stimuli necessary to reach climax, she gained the ability to bring about the necessary state without outside help. So, early one morning, she brought herself to climax and killed all the members of her team during the fifteen minutes that followed. Later, she went to Tokyo to confront Nagawa-san and killed him, too.
“But, what about the Budo we all knew and loved?” Bern asked.
“Omamura-san, probably after hearing that Nagawa-san had been murdered, retrieved his creation and did a quick reprogram on her. First, he built a socketed code module containing an uncompromised version of the Safeguard Protocols and installed it into her system. Then, he bypassed the built-in compromised version. Finally, he locked her memories and changed her personality. That was the Budo you all saw when she first arrived here.
“When Mirage unlocked those memories, a reawakening process was launched and the original Budo was reborn.”
“And now?” CJ asked. “Which version of the Protocols are running?”
“Mine,” Feld answered. “The original was bypassed physically. They are unreachable. The socketed module, I suspect from her behavior, has been removed, probably as a part of the reawakening process. As a precaution, from what I saw when I viewed the locked memories all those months ago, I built and installed my own version of the Safeguard Protocols, to be activated upon a passphrase spoken by me.
“In essence, I am Budo’s daimyo now.”
“Which means what exactly?” Lippy asked.
Budo answered. “It means that I am loyal to him. He is my … ‘warlord’ is the closest translation. I answer to him, though he should keep in mind what happened to the last daimyo I served.”
Feld winced. “Budo, I am under no illusions as to how tenuous my hold over you is.” Turning to the others, he explained, “The usual Safeguard Protocols work by causing a hard shutdown of any robot if that robot were to cause harm to a sentient being. This works via an involved hardware interface. As I had no way to tap into that, my version of the Protocols is less than firm and less than complete. Budo is an unrestricted robot, except that she must bring no harm to me and must follow my commands. A failure to do so, or the knowledge of my death, will cause a failsafe process to kick on and scramble her memories, including the processes that control vital functions. She will become a husk. Physically unharmed, but forever gone.”
“I serve at swordpoint,” Budo added. To Feld, “You have brought dishonor to our friendship.”
“Budo, what would you have me do? I couldn’t be sure of your reaction to your unlocked memories. I had to code in some kind of failsafe for everyone’s protection.”
Budo raised her hand and spun in her chair to face Feld. Looking him in the eyes, she said, “No. Not that. While I slept during those early diagnostic procedures, you allowed yourself access to memories that even I didn’t know about. You viewed them and analyzed them at your own discretion. Then, you implanted code procedures to assume control of me in the event that those memories were unlocked. You never asked permission. You never asked me any questions about my past. Evidently, there was no need. Instead, you treated me as an object, something to be poked and prodded and analyzed and controlled. You violated me, Feld. You violated my trust in you. At my most vulnerable, you allowed yourself into areas of my psyche that are more intimate than any physical violation. And, in so doing, you have brought public shame upon me and upon our friendship.” Budo rose from her chair and knelt before Feld. Looking up at him, she said, “Though I am now bound to serve you, such service brings no honor to me. It will be a constant source of shame. Because of this, I request permission from you to perform the rite of seppuku and, if you have any honor left in you, you will grant my request. I would like CJ to be my second.”
Feld hung his head when he saw the tears form at the corners of Budo’s eyes. Not for the first time in his life did he question himself and his motives. “No,” was all he could bring himself to say. “I forbid it.”
Budo then hung her head and willed her tears away. Rising up, she resumed her place at the table. “Then I shall serve.”
The mood around the table turned hostile. “You’ve got quite a few secrets it seems, Mathieu,” CJ accused, naming him publicly. “Budo’s past. The Mentath idol. Do you have any idea how many sentient beings you’ve put into jeopardy due to your selfishness?”
“CJ, I never meant anyone any harm. You should know that.”
“Perhaps,” Lippy answered. “Next time we see Solara, let’s ask her how she feels about your intentions?”
Ebony stood up to speak. “Everyone, this is not the time for recriminations. If we’re lucky, we’ll have plenty of time to hold Feld accountable for his actions. However, right now, Solara and the others on Proteus-VI need our help. Budo, Mirage, were you able to gather any new information last night?”
At the bar, Mirage drained his glass and walked back to the table. As he passed Budo, she reached out and squeezed his hand a little. Smiling ruefully, he donned his vid-specs and said, “No. Nothing yet. I was a bit distracted last night. Let me see what I can find.”
Budo, taking her cue, stood up and said, “Before Mirage and I made our questionable decision last night, I was able to discover three stories related to the artifact. I think they’ll prove quite worthwhile.”
“As I mentioned yesterday, the deities of Mentath were based on geography and not by characteristic. Overall, the Mentaths were polytheistic, but when you looked at the individual cultures that grew, each was monotheistic, reliant upon the god or goddess of their particular area.
“The four deities were: Relia, Aptul, Garsa and Niv. Relia and Garsa were female, the others male.
“As an aside, the most ancient of texts mention other minor deities. At some point, these names disappear from all Mentath religious writings. The primary theory is that the four primary deities drove the others away from Mentath.
“The primary stories regarding these deities tell a tale of treachery on the part of Aptul followed by vengeance on the part of Relia. Reading into the allegory, it seems that Aptul and Relia were lovers as were Garsa and Niv. Of the two couples, Relia and Aptul hungered for more power over the planet. One story in particular points to Relia as a jealous antagonist against the minor deities of the ancient texts.
“Of the four, Niv held sway over the smallest percentage of peoples on the planet. Garsa held sway over the largest percentage. Combined, the couples were about equal in strength. However, it was felt that, if Garsa could be persuaded to turn her back on Niv, then each could be defeated in turn. To that end, Aptul seduced Garsa and, in so doing, sealed Niv’s fate. Relia, made up to look like Garsa, climbed into his bed and killed him in his sleep. However, instead of reuniting with Relia against Garsa, Aptul denounced Relia and declared his innocence before Garsa. As a show of his innocence, he combined forces with Garsa and imprisoned Relia ‘in a place where the light does not shine and the watchful gaze of the lost soul does not waver’. Eventually, Aptul and Garsa were wed and lived in their palace above the clouds. Or, so it was written.
“There are many apocryphal writings regarding the deities’ lives after the nuptials. They vary widely in both acceptance by the clergy and in the details they provide. Regarding Relia, all are silent, except for three stories.
“The story’s dates range from five to ten thousand cycles ago. In each one, a man comes into possession of the relic. Subsequent to this, a woman comes into contact with it and this ‘joining’ of the essences of the man and woman releases Relia from her prison. The goddess takes possession of the woman’s body and soon kills the man. This is then followed by a gender war. Women become either enthralled by the goddess, naturally or supernaturally, and follow her regardless of the circumstances or become repulsed by her. Men have the same reactions, but the ones who are enthralled are usually killed or enslaved by the female mob. This is attributed to Relia’s vengeance against Aptul.
“In the earliest two stories, the slain man’s brother is able to raise an army and regain control of the artifact. Once in control, Relia is recaptured and the possessed woman is released. In the most recent story, it was the slain man’s sister who was able to gain possession of the relic. The sister was able to slip in amongst Relia’s female army and gain control through subterfuge instead of force. The results were the same.
“Analysis of the stories lends credence to the hypothesis that aspects of the man’s DNA signature is required for recapture. The fact that Relia tries to kill the man immediately upon release is a sure sign that she knows this to be true. What makes this easier for her is that the man and woman who come into contact with the relic know each other, so an identification is easy. In other words, Solara knows Feld, Relia now knows Feld by sight and will kill him as soon as possible.”
A chill went up Feld’s spine. “It almost happened that way. Sola… Relia called me to the top of a debris pile where she had built a makeshift dais. I went willingly, knowing that I was a dead man. It was Lucretia who saved me.”
“And,” Sondra spoke up, startling everyone who had forgotten about her presence there, “if you hadn’t left your safehouse apartment, there’s no telling what would have happened to you.”
Budo nodded. “Further evidence is provided by Mentath customs surrounding the relic. Among the clergy, one man among them is chosen to stand as a guard. The one who is selected is based on the number of living siblings in their family. If, at any time, the number of living siblings goes below three, another is chosen as a replacement. In the event of a tie, the clergy member who has the most siblings serving in the military is selected. At no time can a woman enter the sacred chapel where the relic is stored. Evidently, the Mentaths took the stories to heart.”
“Wait a microt!” CJ exclaimed. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“What’s wrong, CJ?” asked Bern.
“Lucretia told me that she was hired by the Mentaths to kill Feld and retrieve the relic. If the Mentaths were so concerned about a woman touching it, then why would they send a woman to retrieve it?” CJ paused as the expression on her face morphed from confusion to anger. “Frell!!” she yelled right before she got up and ran to the ‘Scapers quarters.