Doctor Who_ Sleepy - Kate Orman [64]
She had hacked into the base’s mainframe and was poking around in a map. It had been ludicrously easy, the technology like kids’ toys. She was beginning to see why the Doctor found it so simple to run rings around whatever computers they encountered.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘I think he really did show us everything. Except maybe a couple of cupboards.’
‘That’s because it’s all sodding legal,’ said Benny, from the bed. ‘Isn’t it? Even experimenting on the destitute.
Madhanagopal has nothing to hide.’
‘Of course he’s got something to hide,’ said Roz.
That was how she found the other computer. The Director had shown it to them, of course, just the biggest box among a bunch of boxes. But, when Roz tried to trace its connections to the mainframe, she found there weren’t any.
They strapped on their swords, picked up their ID, and went to take a look.
As it turned out, there was no-one about in the secondary computer room anyway. Dione was on its night shift now. Through the occasional window, it was always night-time. Saturn hung there as though it were about to fall on them.
Roz collared a technician and bullied him into letting them in. The room was large, crammed with computers, small and functional in comparison with GRUMPY. When they’d visited it on Madhanagopal’s tour, there had been a couple of techies messing about; now it was empty.
‘So,’ said Benny, once they were alone. ‘How do you think all this relates to, er, our case?’
‘You can talk,’ said Roz. ‘The security cameras are video only. Just keep your back to them.’
‘The technology Madhanagopal described. The memory RNA. It’s obviously got something to do with the memories coded into the virus.’
‘Well spotted. But we’re back at the beginning of it. Who knows what happened over the next three decades?’
Benny sat down at the isolated computer’s terminal. The security camera’s glass eye was boring a knothole between her shoulder-blades. ‘Maybe nothing. By my time, hardly anybody used manufactured memory RNA. Memory-altering machines were cheaper and easier, if you had to fake it.’
‘Yeah,’ said Roz.
‘Uh-huh,’ said Benny.
‘Let’s change the subject.’
‘So tell me: why do you suppose this computer has been isolated?’
‘Secure records?’ Roz guessed.
‘Let’s ask it,’ said Benny. ‘I’ll just boot it.’
‘There’s no need to get violent,’ protested Roz, but Benny was just switching the machine on, her hands sliding over flat, touch-sensitive controls. The room filled with the computer’s warm humming.
The thing had a voice interface. Benny turned it on and said, ‘Testing, testing. One, two, one, two. How many Sontarans does it take to change a light-bulb? None, the bulb died a glorious death!’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Letting it get the hang of my voice. This is some seriously old technology, even for this time. Hello, are you receiving me?’
‘Hello? Hello? Who’s that?’ The computer’s voice was dusty and creaky.
‘Hi there. This is, er, Agent Summerfield of the Serial/
Spree Killers Investigations National Unit.’
‘What year is this?’
‘I’ve always wanted to ask someone that,’ Benny grinned. ‘It’s 2227. How long have you been here?’
‘I haven’t been online for four years. Is something interesting happening?’
‘Only if you count an investigation into a serial killer,’ said Roz, who was impressed by the AI’s grasp of language.
Something this primitive ought to be speaking in stock phrases, messing up its verbs.
‘What’s your name?’ said Benny, conversationally.
‘FLORANCE,’ said FLORANCE.
‘What kind of a name is that?’ said Roz.
‘An unthreatening one,’ said Benny, grinning widely. ‘Tell me, FLORANCE, have you ever met someone called the Doctor?’
FLORANCE let them into GRUMPY’s lab. That was a mistake, right there.
Roz spent a few minutes at one of the terminals, patching FLORANCE through. ‘Look at this,’ she told Benny.
‘She’s bounced through every system on the base in under, what, five minutes?’
It’s great to be free, it’s great to be free!’ sang the AI flatly, her readouts appearing on the