Free Flashback (The Saskia Brandt Series Book Two) by Ian Hocking Page A

model are you?’
    ‘I’m an Ego-class assistant, third version.’
    ‘Processor speed? Memory capacity? Juicy details, and quick.’
    ‘My processor and memory are not independent. I do not manipulate data in the manner of a serial computing machine.’
    ‘How, then?’
    ‘I operate using parallel vectors of qubits.’
    ‘You’ve out-geeked me there.’
    ‘Let me summarise. I am from the future.’
    She rolled her eyes. The conversation had just jumped the shark. ‘No way are you from the future.’
    The bedside phone rang. She picked it up.
    ‘Way,’ said a tinny voice.
    ‘Proves nothing.’ She put the phone down. ‘If you’re from the future, when do I die?’
    ‘I cannot say.’
    ‘Against the laws of robotics or something?’
    ‘Coincidentally, my reason for withholding this information does indeed conflict with Asimov’s Second Law: A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law, the First Law being: A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. The First Law was later modified–’
    ‘Jesus, you’re boring. Fancy subjugating mankind with your silicon brethren?’
    ‘No, thank you.’
    Jem spread some honey over her bread and chewed it.
    ‘All this banter just convinces me that you’re an actor and the card is no more than glorified speaker. OK, you sound like a computer, but I can feel your wit. There’s a humanity behind your words. A dash of pride; a pinch of frustration.’
    ‘Get me a glass of water.’
    Jem swallowed and walked to the bathroom. She could not imagine what Ego would want with the water and expected the task to be a ruse that took her out of the room for a moment. When she returned, she looked at the door and the window. Nothing had changed. Likewise, the breakfast platter was untouched.
    ‘Here it is. Now what?’
    ‘Drop me in.’
    ‘I don’t want to void your warranty this early in our relationship.’
    ‘I cannot be damaged by the water.’
    ‘Well, here you go. Consider yourself dumped.’
    Jem plopped Ego in the water. Part of her wanted to hear its voice bubbling from the surface. Instead, the card changed colour from white to black. ‘Seen that before,’ she said. ‘Unimpressed.’
    The water seemed to shrink. Jem frowned and leaned forward. Its level was dropping. She lifted the glass and passed her hand underneath. No holes. When the glass was empty, she said, ‘I’m prepared to exchange my ‘unimpressed’ for a ‘wow’.’
    ‘My capacitor is recharged.’
    ‘You’re water-powered?’
    ‘Today.’
    ‘But there was more water in the glass than could fit inside you. Where did it really go?’
    ‘I now possess the water in a denser form.’
    ‘Gotcha,’ Jem said. She felt pleased to have spotted a mistake in the reasoning of the card, or whoever was controlling him. ‘That isn’t physically possible. Liquid is the densest form of water. Ice is less dense, and so is steam. Am I right?’
    ‘Is there a second option?’
    Jem tipped her head to one side. ‘Funny.’
    There was something frustratingly teacher-pupil about their exchange. She took Ego from the glass and rubbed a thumb along one side. It was dry. Her companion had an attractive, alien quality. She was conscious that it reminded her of Saskia.
    ‘Ego, what can you actually do for me that doesn’t involve posing as a credit card, infiltrating envelopes, and so forth?’
    ‘I can advise on a safe location for you to meet Danny. He will help us find Saskia.’
    Jem was not prepared to hear her brother’s name. It had an unpleasant resonance, like a rhyme. The fun left her.
    ‘Why would we - I - do that?’
    ‘Saskia’s system never leaves her person. You want it, don’t you?’
    She thought of the hipster jeans she had persuaded Saskia to buy. They would be charred now, torn, lost in a wasteland of wreckage.
    ‘What about Cory?’
    ‘Given that his attempt at