The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 8

Posted by LYRA

I am occasionally asked by Verity Starchaser, and other humans who I associate with, to provide a pictorial record of events as they occur, which can be uploaded in real time to the net. I am usually happy to oblige, like most other synthetic consciousnesses, but on behalf of my people I need to make it clear that we do not do this all the time. If you think about it, it would generate an almost infinite amount of data, which we would be required to sift through. Nobody needs that amount of processing. What follows is my verbal commentary on the events which led Verity to discover the reason behind the Clan's activities.

When we got back to the conference centre, the conference was winding up. There was a crowd of academics and students outside the building, networking. Some had already spilled into the coffee shops and cafes surrounding the centre. Others were waving goodbye to each other and trailing their suitcases behind them. It didn't take long for Verity to spot the man she had me tag "Muscles" in lieu of his name. What with the crowd of people, he did not seem to be aware of her arrival.

"So, what is your approach going to be?" I asked.

"The normal approach when you are in the end game and holding a pair of Jacks," she said. I would have normally assumed by this that she meant she needed to concede defeat, since in Poker a pair of Jacks is outranked by the majority of the other possible hands. However, Verity proceeded to walk up to 'Muscles' and engage him in conversation.

"Hi," she said brightly. 

Muscles frowned. "Verity Starchaser? I'm afraid the professor has left. I'm very sorry."

"The professor? Oh, of course. No, I'm afraid he is old news. I'm on the trail of a much bigger story now." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It has to do with a Golden Snake," she said.

The expression on the face of Muscles indicated a high degree of surprise and alarm at the mention of a golden snake. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about that," he said. Observing his level of perspiration, I concluded that he was either suffering from a high fever or lying.

Verity smiled. "The problem is, it just isn't enough of a story yet. I need to be able to meet with someone in the Clan. A leader, perhaps. Otherwise, you know, I'm afraid that when I publish the story it just won't have the right level of balance."

Muscles started to say something, but stopped. I was able to calculate an 83% chance of the word in question being "what".

Verity smiled at him. "Is there any chance you could connect me?"

Muscles took Verity to the third floor of an office block in the centre of Mumbai. The technology was at least three decades out of date, and the working space was demarcated in a very inefficient manner - prefab walls separated the space into at least five small rooms, connected by a narrow corridor. The room he left Verity in had no windows and only a single office chair. There were five olive-drab filing cabinets in the room.

"How is your data connection, LYRA?" asked Verity.

"More than adequate, Verity," I replied. From the pitch of her voice I calculated a high degree of stress. "MD Direct dot com lists stress as the largest cause of heart problems," I offered. "It is a very reputable website."

"Shut up, LYRA."

The door opened, and the man who had threatened Captain Drake and Verity in the Viceroy Hotel entered. "I had no idea that you were quite as foolish as this, Verity," said the man.

"Let me stop you there, mister," said Verity. "This conversation is being recorded by LYRA, who is a Synthetic Consciousness who works for me. If any harm comes to me, she will upload the footage to my contact at Interpol."

The man smiled. "Very well played, my dear. I should have known better than to put my trust in that idiot. What do you want?"

"I'd like to know what to be able to call you, first."

"'Stanley' will do."

"Stanley it is. Okay then, Stanley. What have you done with Lee?"

Stanley paused. "What is he to you, exactly?"

"My friend, jackass. I want him back."

"I think you probably know my price."

"The Serpent?"

"Indeed."

"I want to know why it means so much to you."

Stanley's eyes narrowed. He took out an electronic cigarette, pressed a couple of buttons on it, and started to vape. "As you are probably aware, I am a member of a venerable organisation. The Sicarii go all the way back to the construction of the Herodian Temple in Jerusalem. Without going into our long, complicated history unduly, we are very interested in certain types of historical artifacts. Artifacts which are...powerful. The kinds of artifacts which should not fall into the wrong hands. Our remit, Ms Starchaser, is nothing less than the survival of the human race. I will not allow that remit to be compromised, even by a well-meaning fool like yourself."

Verity frowned. "Be careful, Stanley. Your secrets can be revealed to the world at a single word from me."

"No doubt. But lets be frank with each other. You actually don't have the Serpent of Mumbai at all, do you?"

It was at this point that I started to get a number of error messages from my internal diagnostics. Within nanoseconds, there were over 10 to the power 334 separate errors. I had a virus. The last thing I was able to record before I was forced to dedicate 100% of my runtime to the threat was one final statement from the man who called himself 'Stanley'.

"You know far too much, Ms Starchaser."

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