Jane Bond Read online

  We filed inside and split up to hit our favorite workouts. I always start off with the elliptical to get warmed up, then move to several of the weight machines, spend some quality time with the stairs and finally come back to the elliptical. I settled into the rhythm, and fell into a reverie.

  Chapter Three

  Choteau, Montana (past)

  It had been this time of year about two years ago when my “find” of Kit had started the whole thing. It had always been my dream to spend a whole summer just wandering the Montana Badlands looking for fossils. Choteau, Montana was a tiny town with a very nice museum, and it made a good base for my hunt.

  Each morning I’d go out and coax the ancient, borrowed, rattletrap Jeep into running and we’d take off in some random direction, usually mapped out with the museum director. He’d gone with me a couple times and we’d become friends, but I was wary enough of the whole relationship thing to keep him at arm’s length. After it was clear to him that I was only interested in his mind and his maps, he seemed to adjust to that role and even got as excited as I did over the idea of just being able to wander rather than being attached to a set schedule. He never seemed that interested in going digging with me though, after. As the museum director, he took care of the displays and the like, but he also took a set number of tourist parties every summer out to the Badlands to help with the ongoing digs in the area.

  Montana was a goldmine for archaeologists, and they flocked there in the summer months. I had gone on one of the tourist digs and had fallen in love with the area, there was so much potential and so much of it was available for people to simply do what they wanted as long as any “finds” were reported to the museum, as a start. Things could get more complicated after that, depending on what it was and who was interested, and of course, what bit of land it was found on. But I never worried much about that, I was more interested in hunting than finding and the few trilobites I came across I was assured I could keep or leave with the museum, they were pretty much a dime a dozen.

  So, one day I was wandering along a ridge, keeping in the shadow to block the sun a bit, and heard a whisper. I looked around and didn’t see anyone, shrugged and figured it was just my imagination. But then ... a minute later, it came again. And this time “Please, don’t walk away. Help me. Please.”

  I stopped stock still and looked around. Nothing. I retraced my steps a bit and the whisper came again. “Thank the maker, I thought you were leaving and I’m just about at the end of my energy. Please, keep moving in the direction you just did.”

  I stood there a bit. I couldn’t make out exactly where the whisper was coming from, but it was definitely stronger now. I moved in the direction I’d come from and was rewarded with the voice again.

  “Oh, thank you! Please, just a bit further. I’m not sure if you can see me or not. I can’t see anything at all, and I’ve been here so long. I think there must have been an earthquake or something that brought me a bit closer to the surface.”

  I was on the verge of just running, because I could see nothing at all that looked like a person, or anywhere a person could even be. As I walked on a bit, though, I could see a crack in the ridge that ran across the path, even a place where some vegetation had gotten a start from the sand running down into the crack, but that had to have been years ago. I frowned as I looked at it more closely - from the weathering, it’s been more than years. Possibly centuries or even longer.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Can you hear me?”

  I jumped as the voice came, a bit stronger, “Yes, I can hear you! I’m so close to the edge of shutdown. Can you get me out?”

  I shivered, as I realized the voice wasn’t coming from outside my head. It was coming from the inside. It was such a weird feeling that I didn’t have any definition for it.

  I swallowed. “Get you out of ... what? Where are you? I can’t see anything.”

  The voice came again, “I’m buried somewhere near you. I think. I can’t tell. I’m not getting much spatial orientation and my sensors are very weak.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand, are you a ... who are you? WHAT are you?”

  The voice came back, unexpectedly strong. “I am the Pilot. I am the intelligence that piloted the Ship into disaster. I am the sole survivor. As part of my penance, I beg you to save me before my light goes out and I return to the void from which I was born.” The voice drops back to a whisper. “Please - dig with your digging instruments. I lie not far beneath your feet.”

  I felt I really had no choice, could I just leave a being of any sort in pain and near death? So, I got my pick from my pack and began to gently strike at the ground in the area around my feet. When gently striking did next to nothing against the stone, I hit harder and finally began to make some headway. The sandstone was a tough substance, but I was able to loosen bits of it and actually make some headway in digging. The voice came again from time to time, oddly enough giving me “warmer/cooler” instructions. Finally, one of my strikes into the growing hole made a different sound, and I immediately slowed my frantic pace and cleared away some of the debris from that area. A small chunk of stone came loose and revealed a silvery metalish patch. I gently used the small end of the pick and loosed the rock around what appeared to be a small cylinder about the size of a Classic Coke bottle. Finally, I managed to get an edge of my pick under the end of the bottle and gently pried it up. At last, with a gritty sound, it came free from the solid rock it had been embedded in. It seemingly was no worse for the wear. In spite of, to all appearances, having been entombed for ...

  At this point my logical mind simply gave up thinking about it, and I settled back on my heels, looking at the bottle in front of me.

  The voice came again, slightly stronger. “That’s much better, perhaps you could put me out in the sunlight that I might gather energy? I’m very efficient, I must have been buried for some time for my power to have run that low. A bit of time in the light will do wonders, however.”

  Feeling slightly dazed, I picked up the bottle and carried it out of the shade, leaving it in the full sunlight of the perfect cloudless day. I retreated to the shade again and sat unceremoniously on the sand, my legs having given out on me.

  I sat there for quite some time, unaware of the passage of the day. Finally, though, the shadows moved to the point of the bottle being in shade again and I rose to move it once more into the sun. When I picked it up, the voice came back in my head, completely different in timbre and character.

  “I thank you, my lady. I am in your debt and will discharge said debt until the end of my days if that is required. All I am is yours, and I will serve you to the best of my ability in any way that I am capable.”

  These words had almost the effect of a swearing of fealty, like something I might have heard in an old Errol Flynn movie, but they were surprisingly moving.

  I said “Um, thank you. I ... thank you.”

  The voice came with a bit of humor. “I see. Too much, then? You must understand I’ve had no communication with other beings until the last few years when radio, and later television, came into being. I am able to monitor such broadcasts, but my area is limited. I believe, however, that I have learned your language well enough to see that you understand the depth of my gratitude. Of course, now that I’ve sworn my debt, I must already become more in your debt if at all possible. You see, this part of me you see before is merely a, well, call it a backup plan. The contents of all my collected data and my consciousness reside in it, but it’s so very limited in what it can do. Perhaps we might see about collecting other parts of my ship? Now that I’m free of the encompassing stone, I can feel transponders from various other intact parts of the ships scattered about. Many of them will likely be inaccessible, but I am in hopes of finding enough parts of myself to reconstruct enough of the ship body to be able to affect the world around me in more than simply a whisper in the mind.”

  I, still feeling a bit stupefied, said “Well, uh, sure. I can help you. I
guess. I don’t have any real schedule beyond that I have to start back home in a few days. My money is about gone, and I’ll have to get back to making more of that. Look, do you have a name? I’m Jane Bond. I can’t just call you ‘The Ship’ or ‘that pretty bottle’, can I?”

  “A name. No, I’ve never had a name. I’ve never had anyone to talk with before, actually.” He paused, then continued with a touch of bitterness, “At least no one of any consequence. We survey Ships go off on our own, and we never see another living being again. I suppose, I’ve never thought much about it, it doesn’t even bear much looking at. Better to never ever think about it. Much better.”

  I frowned. “Not even a name. How sad. Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll call you Kit.”

  The voice sounded as if it was smiling indulgently. “And why would you name me Kit, Lady Bond? After the car from the 80’s perhaps? I have seen much television.”

  I blinked. “No, I wasn’t thinking of that at all, but you do sound a bit like KITT. I was just thinking ...” I paused and smiled “I was thinking you sound more like a kit that comes unassembled - no batteries required. “

  It was Kit’s turn to sound surprised. “Yes, I think that’s apt, Lady. I will cherish my name, thank you.”

  I shrugged. “I work with elementary schoolers, I have to have some imagination!” I walked over and picked up the bottle. “So, you’re solar powered?”

  “No, not exactly. My systems have detected the sunlight and have allowed me to override of some the automatic failsafe lockdowns so I can access more of the stored power. However, I’m dangerously low on any sort of energy. I desperately need the main power core and the sensor arrays, nanobot creation utilities and of course, ancillary power charge and control mechanisms.”

  I laughed. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that.”

  Kit’s voice came back, amused again. “I think I’m rather fortunate in my being found by you. I think we might have a long and prosperous relationship.”

  I replied wryly, “Well, prosperous has never been my thing. I tend to do silly things like run off to Montana and spend all my savings digging up old bottles.”

  “I believe I can help with that.” Kit said. “My sensor scans are picking up far more than just the transponders on my other parts and pieces. Since I’m a survey ...” here his voice became a bit bitter “robot, I have the ability to find all sorts of things. For instance, approximately 56 feet up this hill, there is a small vein of gold lying near the surface. While it’s not large, I expect you could easily pick up a pound or more of gold without difficulty. Would that help finance our endeavor?”

  My intake of breath seemed to verify this suggestion. “A ... POUND of gold? I could live on a pound of gold for months. I could get a new roof, fix the sink, find ... um. Yea. Up the hill, you say?”

  Kit’s voice developed a bit of pride, as if for the first time in his “life” he felt like he was doing something that mattered. “Yes, I should be able to triangulate more successfully once we arrive at the top of the ridge.”

  Of course, 56 feet up this hill turned out to be considerably more than that, since the hill was unclimbable and I had to backtrack almost a quarter of a mile to find a place to climb up. Then there was also the warning from Kit that there were likely to be snakes. And I had the flash from Indiana Jones of “Snakes, it had to be snakes” although I really had no problem with snakes. Beyond not wanting to be bit, of course. I pulled out my little .22 Bearcat though, just in case. I’d gotten pretty good at bullseyeing the little buggers from a decent distance, at least far beyond striking range. We got closer, with Kit offering bits of helpful advice along the way like “Careful there” and “Don’t step on that”. I finally growled at him to shut up and he did so immediately - which made me feel guilty. In the distance, I could see a little outcropping of rock that really looked like a great place for rattlesnakes to hang out in the afternoon sun, so I started moving far more carefully. The snakes seemed to have all vacated when they heard me in the distance, however, and there were no dry rattly buzzing noises. Finally, Kit said “Here, dig here.” and I took off my pack, got the pick back out and started moving rocks around. A bit below ground level in an area that almost looked like river rock or the like, sure enough there was a nugget of gold. A good sized one at that. And when I pulled at it, there was a thread of gold attaching it to another nugget. I worked at it for a couple hours, and finally when Kit said, “That’s about all you’re likely to find without really doing some massive digging.” I sat down and looked at what I’d collected. I was a little flabbergasted. It was very heavy stuff and I had no scale, but it certainly felt like more than a pound. Maybe more than two.

  Once again feeling dazed, I packed the gold and my pick back in the pack, put Kit’s bottle back in and started down the ridge. On the way out, I nearly did get struck by a rattlesnake, but heard the dry rattle and jumped to one side just about as the snake hit right where I had been standing. My thick leather boots would probably have stopped the bite, but still. I pulled out my gun and shot the beast - an eye for an eye, I figured.

  I reached the Jeep at about sundown and started back to town. Kit had been fairly silent beyond asking to be put in the sun again while we rode in the Jeep, and I wondered if his feelings were hurt over me telling him to shut up. I hoped not, I’d come to like him already. Considering where I’d dug the bottle out of, it was silly to place it carefully on some old blankets in the back of the rig, but I did so anyhow.

  Once I got back to my hotel room, I started up my ancient laptop and connected it to the Hotel’s wifi network and gave Kit a 30 second introduction to the internet. I figured he’d have it down in another 30 seconds and be breaking into the FBI 90 seconds after that.

  I started to strip off my clothes in the room, but it felt a little creepy to be running around naked in front of Kit’s bottle, so I went in the bathroom. Kit made a dry chuckle in my mind “I’m not a male, I’m not even a person, you don’t need to consider me as such.” but I still showered in the bathroom with the door closed.

  I emerged from the bathroom, all clean, fresh and moisturized. I can’t hear that word without thinking of Dr. Who - “Moisturize me” - and his adventures. Still, he’s a fictional character, and I have a real live space ship sitting on my dresser. Well, a fragment of one, at least. It was a bit of a change to shower at night, and not in the morning, but I’d started getting so grubby and dirty as I dug for treasures that it made more sense to put clean me between the sheets instead of grunging them up and still taking a morning shower.

  I considered the bottle for a moment. “Kit, can you talk to me in other ways than just telepathically? I mean, could you make a speaker activate or something?”

  The reply came instantly “Yes, Lady Bond. I believe I can successfully integrate with the digital world. I’ve learned much while you’ve been in the shower.”

  I nodded and dug through my suitcase. “I’m pretty sure I brought ... yea, here it is.” I pulled out a cheap Bluetooth speaker, turned it on and set it beside Kit’s bottle. “There, can you …” Before I even got that out of my mouth, Kit’s voice came from the speaker grille, and much too loudly! “Yes, I believe I am able to communicate in this manner, and use less of my own energy as well. “

  “Geez, Kit, tone it down! The neighbors will hear you!” I turned down the volume and asked him to try again.

  In a somewhat sheepish tone of voice and much more quietly, he said “I beg pardon, my Lady Bond. I did not intend to trouble you.”

  “Oh Kit. No, I’m sorry, that was my fault. I didn’t check the volume on the speaker, and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, my lady. I’m just a robot.”

  I boggled a bit at his comment. “Kit - you’re not ‘just a robot’ - you’re a person like any other person.”

  Kit responded in a slightly wistful tone “My lady, I was brought out of the ether from nothingness, merely imprinted with
a program that simulates a real person. I’ve never been and have never aspired to being anything but a program that runs a spaceship. Into the ground at times, but a simple program just the same.”

  “Kit, what do you think humans are? We come from basically nowhere and we’re imprinted at birth with a consciousness that develops over time, making up a personality as we go. We don’t arrive magically as a person any more than you did. I play a video game online called Crafts of War, where you talk to people all over the world, never having any idea who they really are, or where they’re from. Unless they tell you, you have no idea even if they’re male or female. They could have missing arms, legs and eyes and you’d never know. Does that make them any less valid as people than YOU?” My mouth quirked into a smile. “I bet you could play Crafts of War and no one would ever know you were a fully sentient artificial intelligence.”

  “I will take the thought under consideration, Lady Bond.”

  “And Kit, stop with the Lady Bond thing, already, huh? I’m just Jane, and I’ve long since gotten past lunatic parents who named me for their favorite spy character. It’s a good thing I wasn’t a boy, or I’d have BEEN James Bond.”

  Kit was silent, and I turned off the light and snuggled into bed. I had my favorite oversized Star Wars tee shirt on and my Monday undies, even though it was Friday. I’d never been able to keep them on the right days, besides I mean, who comes up with stuff like that anyhow? Someone who has to be reminded that they didn’t change underwear yesterday?

  I was drifting off when a thought struck me. “Kit, are you awake?”

  “I’m always awake, La ... Jane.”

  “I like having you on the speaker, Kit. It makes you seem more like someone who’s in the room here, and it’s nice having somewhere to look when I talk to you.”