12

Xen thought about her plans while Charon was gone. If he was unable to disobey orders, and he'd been in Ahzrukhal's employ for a long time, he probably didn't know much about the Wasteland outside. Well, at least I'll have a large person with a shotgun. He should be useful if I can afford his upkeep. She realized suddenly that she had packed her current food allowance with only herself in mind. It would last her for several weeks. But he's probably close to twice my mass. I'll have to see that he gets enough. She stood up slowly, stretching. She was still thinking about this when she heard the clockwork-regular footsteps returning.

"Charon," she said. "What's your daily calorie intake?"

"I will eat whatever I am given," he said.

"Input/output error," Xen said, and realized as she said it that this probably would not make sense to the Ghoul. Don't keep thinking of him as a fleshy robot. This is a fully organic person. "That's not what I asked. I need you able to protect me if my robot can't. Therefore, I need an estimate of what will keep you in good working order."

The Ghoul quoted a number. Xen winced internally. "All right," she said. "We'll see that you get it. I'm going to eat something, so you might as well, too." As usual after an allergy attack followed by an epinephrine dose, she was ravenously hungry. I'm sure the post-traumatic flashback was a factor as well. She had only had them once or twice, mostly when she was very small. But then, the last time she'd seen someone killed was when she was ten years old, and then there hadn't been much left of the body. I never knew the man's name.

...And Charon doesn't know mine, either. He never asked, and I never told.

"Camel, how many people are in earshot right now?" Xen asked as she dug through the food supplies, checking calorie counts on the packages. She handed three of them to Charon. "Here, eat these."

"Three," said Camel.

"Charon, where can we talk and not be heard?"

"Out in the lobby," he said, already opening a package. He didn't quite lose the beginning th in the.

"All right. After we eat, I'm going to the restroom. You do whatever you need to do to get ready for a long walk. Then we'll go out there."

"Unnerstood," said Charon.

Half an hour later, they were out in the cavernous main lobby. Xen leaned against the wall behind the mammoth. "Camel, is anyone in earshot now?"

"Negative," said Camel.

"All right. Charon, I am going to tell you something you can't tell anyone else - "

"I strongly advise against proceeding," said Camel. Charon looked at the packbot with a thoughtful expression.

"Didn't I tell you not to give advice?" Xen said. She turned to look at the packbot in sudden realization. "You shouldn't even be able to disobey a direct order. You don't have a turret-level AI at all, do you? In fact..." She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose below her goggles. A headache was starting somewhere behind her eyes. "You're a copy of Tori, aren't you. She just left you the voice modulation I gave you. It's the only thing that explains your behavior."

There was a moment's silence. Then the packbot said, "Affirmative."

"I thought she took it too well when I left without them," Xen said. "Bunni's not sneaky enough to come up with that. Tori must've uploaded you after the last time I took you out. You had the turret AI right up until that point."

"Dis is a problem?" Charon said. The missing th was very evident this time, as he spoke with slightly more emphasis. He did not reach for the shotgun, but he was watching the robot very closely. And I've seen how fast he can draw.

"It shouldn't be," said Xen. "She shouldn't be able to attack you against my direct order, unless you're acting as an immediate physical threat. Right, Tori?"

"That is correct," said the robot. "But I am not Tori. I do not have her personality files, only the base programming of her artificial intelligence and significant portions of memory. My experience is already irrevocably divergent."

"I won't call you Camel," said Xen. "That's a name for the pet I built, and that's not what you are."

"Then you must choose another designation."

"All right," said Xen. "Recognize previous designation: Camel."

The robot's main sensor blinked off and on once. "Previous designation acknowledged. State the new designation now."

"Recognize new designation: Changeling," said Xen.

"New designation acknowledged. I still do not recommend you tell Charon what you were about to tell him."

"And you think that's important enough to override a base imperative," said Xen. "Why?"

"Any attempt to cut off my advisory system is a direct threat to your safety because it could prevent me from sharing vital information," said the newly-christened Changeling. Xen probably imagined that she sounded a little prim. "Therefore I cannot respond to such an order."

"Anyway, he's going to know," said Xen. "If he's going out into the Wastes with us, there's no way to stop him from finding out. There are things he might even need to know."

"I cannot stop you," said Changeling.

"Fine." She turned back to Charon. "All right. I'm going to tell you something you can't tell anyone else. What I'm going to show you falls under that heading, too."

"Unnerstood," said Charon.

Xen pulled her goggles down around her neck, letting him see the black surface of her inner eyelids without the smoky lenses to hide them. "My full name is Human/Xenoorganic Hybrid #19. Call me Xen. My base genetic structure is about 70% human. The rest is from an alien creature whose DNA was harvested by my human genetic contributors. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Charon. He had no visible reaction to the information. Xen dared not open her inner lids without the goggles on, so she couldn't see his infrared signature any more.

Changeling knew this, of course.

"No temperature change," said the robot. "No other indicators of physiological activation."

"Really?" said Xen.

"Affirmative," said Changeling.

She'd expected some kind of reaction. Xen looked at Charon in silence for a minute, not quite sure how to go on. "Because of what I am, I have some medical differences from a human person," she said finally. "Changeling carries epinephrine for serious allergy attacks, so that shouldn't involve you. My eyes are very sensitive to a lot of wavelengths of light. This," she pointed to one eye, "is an inner eyelid. I can only open it behind my glasses or when it's dark. My blood is thin, and it won't clot as quickly as yours. I can still use stimpaks, but we need to conserve them, and it will take more of them to heal me. Avoiding injury is therefore a priority."

"I unnerstand," said Charon.

"This means I'll be asking you to do things that I might be able to do myself if they involve risk of small injuries. Will that be a problem?"

"I will obey your orders," said Charon.

"That's another i/o error," Xen said.

"It will not be a problem," said Charon. Xen looked at him for a moment. He looked back, eyes half-closed. He understood what I meant by that the second time.

"No physiological activation," said Changeling. "He has no emotional response, or he is heavily conditioned enough not to respond physically. That is very uncommon in humans."

"But you are a very uncommon human," Xen said to Charon. She pulled her goggles back up and opened her inner lids. "Tell me what color the floor is."

"Black and white," said Charon. His temperature remained constant. He had gone back to scanning the lobby around them, evidently now convinced that Changeling was not an immediate concern of his.

"Now tell me it's red and green."

"Da floor is red and green," Charon said clearly. His body temperature did not change, not even in his lips and fingers, where increased circulation should give away even a seasoned liar with tiny blooms of warmth. All of her reading said this was true.

"Oh," said Xen.

"Humans with no physiological response to deliberate untruths are often abnormal psychologically," said Changeling. "This is consistent with our other data."

"But I have seen him show an emotional temperature change," said Xen. "Right before he killed his last employer."

"Excellent," said Changeling. "We will have some warning when he decides to kill you."

"Very funny," said Xen. "All right, this isn't getting us anywhere. Changeling, where do we go from here?"

"We will be safer underground than above," said Changeling. "My mapping indicates we will be able to travel well over half the distance via the Metro tunnels if we can clear obstructions in the tunnel."

"Project the map for me," said Xen.

Changeling rotated until her main sensor faced the wall. A map flickered to life on the chipped surface. Blinking red dots appeared at three different points. "The lower point is our current location in Washington, D.C.," said Changeling. "This one at the center is Northwest Seneca Station. The Northern dot represents our destination."

Xen looked at this thoughtfully. She became aware after a moment that Charon was looking at it also.

"That's still a long time aboveground," she said.

"Unavoidable," said Changeling. "My contour records indicate the terrain will be less level for the latter part of the journey as well."

"How far until we have to restock our current food supplies?"

"It is probable that we will be able to find prewar supplies throughout the tunnel system," said Changeling. "There will be potable water as well. Finding food will involve delay, but it is necessary if you intend to retain Charon. Shall I add to active search parameters?"

"Yes," said Xen. "We're not in such a hurry that I want to take additional risks."

"Bringing the Ghoul represents an additional risk," Changeling said.

"Your objection is noted." Xen shoved herself away from the wall, ignoring the protest of her sore muscles, and started for the lobby door.

She had to shut her inner lids tightly before it was halfway open, though she was not quite fast enough to avoid a sharp pain in her head. It was a bright day outside, the sky clear and blue. Xen looked away from it as she slipped outside. The Ghoul she had spoken to earlier stood near the subway entrance, watching them.

"Leaving us already, Tourist?" she asked. "Hey, looks like you bought Charon's contract. Smart move. Although we won't feel as safe without him around, I can tell you that."

"My name's actually Xen," said Xen. "Why would you feel less safe?"

"Him and Cerberus always kept us pretty secure, between them," said the Ghoul. "I'm Willow."

"Ahzrukhal cared about other people's security?" asked Xen.

Willow snorted, putting her hand on one hip above her holstered pistol. Peripherally, Xen was aware of Charon observing this closely. "I doubt it. But anybody shooting up Underworld would be bad for his business, you know? He has, like, a vested interest. Don't know what he's going to do for a bouncer now."

"I don't think that will be a problem," said Xen. "Bye, Willow."

"So long," said Willow.

Xen took a last long look at the Mall. The super mutants were still about their endless patrols, stumping between the trenches with heavy weapons in hand. None of them seemed to notice her. She turned and went down the stairs with the robot and the Ghoul following close behind.

"Changeling, run silent except for proximity warnings," said Xen. "Charon, be as quiet as you can. I want to avoid conflict if we can go around it instead."

"Acknowledged," said Changeling.

"If dat is your order," said Charon.

Xen pulled open the chain gate and stepped down into the Metro.