Cardinal Machines

By Tracy Eire

Graduation is closing in fast for Zoey Collins and she's facing tough choices when it comes to what to do next. Being the great niece of mother of A.I., Katherine Cardinal, doesn't mean she's rolling in green. But the Collins family is rife with penetration-testers and Private Eyes, a gene Zoey's inherited in spades.

Zoey’s trying to make it on her own when her great aunt dies, leaving her a prototype Cardinal Machine called Ocean. Both beautiful and buttoned-down, this machine ends up installed in Zoey’s now-empty front room. What does a girl do with a sweet custom android like Ocean? Why, what any girl would do. She takes him out to pick up bail jumpers that'd otherwise be a problem to apprehend. And he’s a natural! Because the Ocean models were designed for federal investigations and general law-enforcement.

However, when she takes on the case of a bail jumper who would be her biggest bank, a man who would have bagged Zoey 5000$, she finds out her skip is dead in a seaside park. The Sheriff's Department rules it an accident, but her Ocean’s assessment of the scene calls it murder....

If you liked 'Cinder -- The Lunar Chronicles', this is a series for you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tracy Eire
• Release date: Nov 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463198964

Tracy Eire

My name, Tracy, means warrior in Irish, and that's apt. I come from a much-storied island off the coast of Eastern Canada, where kids weren't handled with kid-gloves. We had the run of the place -- icebergs and all! The land, the storms, and the beliefs shaped me into a storyteller. But I'm also an avid collector of things, like dolls, books, and... ghost hunting tips. I have a background in literature and psychology, with an entirely unhealthy dollop of technology (that's run a decade now and includes Clouds of all kinds)! I paint too much and think about trivia and oddities about the same, but it all comes out on the page! I've been writing professionally for about 7 years now. You'll like my work if you're interested in near-future science fiction, ghost-stories, or kick-@$$ heroes and heroines. And if you're Street Team Strong? Let me know on my site's Contact Page! Thanks and happy reading!

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

The Ocean

Deadly Hobbies

A Skip in the Woods

Killer Katherine

The TomCat

A Party of One

A Chip in the Hand

Partners in Crime

The Longshots

The Code

Blood and Robots

Figure it Out

Cardinal Machines by Tracy Eire (Smashwords edition)

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author-publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Copyright © 2018 Tracy Eire

Prologue

It was a normal morning for Zoey Cardinal.

She was on the phone at 8AM eating stale pizza and crumpling bills to pay bills with, and she had a live one over at Light and Power.

Look, she pushed through the wrappers and take-out cartons to look at her coffee-ringed notes and bent a nail backwards on a hidden box of cheques, Shit – no not you, she shook out her hand and swallowed cursing. Okay, look-

We’re not in the business of lame excuses, Miss Cardinal. The guy on the other side of the line wasn’t Lane – the phone support she was used to dealing with. Her bill had escalated to a collections call center over in who-knew-where, where the staff invested heavily in the sticks up their asses. We’re in the business of getting paid.

Zoey liked to at least keep the bills covered enough to keep the calls home in Noble.

I know that-

Then you’re due for lights out by the end of the week unless lights on is medically necessary, he tapped some keys, and I don’t see any exceptions here.

If you could just cycle the bill back to Noble, I could work out a deal with-

I don’t know how things work in your corner of the world, but this is Los Angeles. Pay your bill by the end of the week and we won’t cut your power. He said casually.

And hung up.

Zoey sucked her burning fingernail for a moment, looked around the wood wainscot square that was the faded glory of her kitchen… and wondered how hard it would be to get her work done in here without power for a week or two. She worked out some math for gasoline for the generator, which was sufficiently difficult given the checks and balances in her budget, for her to jolt when the phone rang again. If she hadn’t needed work, she would never have picked it up. Her nerves were jangled enough as it was.

There was a moment of nothing on the VOIP, and then an official-sounding voice said, Katherine Cardinal, please. Like it was ordering tea in the British Empire: Earl Gray. Hot.

Nobody called her Katherine.

Her resumes didn’t say Katherine. For her entire life, she’d been called by her middle name, Zoey, to honour a fresh start, Zoey’s late mother had said. There was no name like it in the Cardinal family in point of fact. ‘Katherine’, which her family snootily pronounced Kath-reen, meant business.

She straightened to Private-School properness automatically. Speaking.

Katherine, I am Bertrand Roach.

Then hello Berty, she was already bored and propped her head in one hand.

Yes, hello. He hem-hemmed, before he continued. Miss Cardinal, I regret to inform you of the passing of Katherine Cardinal. I am her executor. Madame has left a portion of her monies, certain real estate, and small possessions to you, with the directive that they be delivered to you and your residences in Noble within-

The pizza in her mouth, never something to call home about, tasted like ashes. She missed the rest. She missed, even when Bertrand Roach, executor she’d never even heard of, hung up the phone. Her attention was fixed on a moment 15 years before, on the tall, imposing person of Aunt Katherine Cardinal, her great aunt, hovering over her and making sounds of approval. Her crinkly, perfumed hand set down an honest-to-God gemstone-studded watch on cherry-wood as Zoey had scanned clues on a newspaper word-puzzle. "Ah! Now, we know you’re good at this. It remains to be measured how good, indeed. Do watch the clock, Kath-reen. Three, two, one-"

Zoey woke up in her dark red kitchen, dial-tone pressed to her ear, thinking of a tall woman draped in purple organza. She spat the ashes out into a napkin.

The lights flickered and went out.

Chapter 1. The Ocean

The door rumbled as Zoey was throwing old food containers in a trash-bag, necessary because it looked like a racoon had gotten into her kitchen. Now she shoved the bag under the table and eyed her breakfast: a cola-lemonade hybrid that was, as far as she could tell, falsely advertised as an energy drink, and her last best-option, the front doors.

Two weeks ago, she’d taken a job for a client whose now ex-husband, Vincenzo, was volatile, and while she’d been able to substantiate the claims for the Court, the guy had called in a few threats against her life since. That tended to make her a bit spicy, so Zoey rooted around on the table and found her stun gun and her mace before she edged toward the door.

Any job worth doing, Hello? was worth overdoing.

Yes, hello. Said a woman from the other side. She sounded confused. Unless this was an elaborate setup, Zoey wasn’t in for the ex-husband experience she’d been expecting. I’m looking for a Katherine Cardinal?

Zoey unlocked the door and rubbed her blue eyes in the glare of sunlight. And she had a covered porch. She wondered what she looked like to the whip-straight, pin-tucked black woman who stood with a valise and paperwork in hand. ‘Katherine Cardinal’ hadn’t been to bed in 24 hours and had eaten a food-truck hotdog yesterday. She nodded at the woman genially and clicked her stun gun’s electrical pulse alive. If you’re here with bills, I’m gonna taze ya.

Yep. Classy.

The woman in the dress-suit didn’t look amused by that little ice-breaker. I’m with the Estate, she said leadenly, and her brows went up. I’m here to deliver effects as per the letter of the-

Great Aunt Katherine, which you had to say in the same snooty way as Zoey’s first name had always been pronounced. She bit back bitterness and gave a staunch nod. I’m Katherine Cardinal. You can leave it with me.

The stern black woman looked at her a moment longer before she said, You’re… if I may say, Miss Cardinal… you look very like your namesake.

Really? ‘Cause Great Aunt Kat was 121, Zoey said with a bright tilt of her sleepless head. Her chipper armour had been pounded on with such force it never slipped. But part of its function was to be visible, just a polite shell over… over what? She couldn’t remember, and it didn’t matter. You can leave the package with me. Thanks. Zoey needed a nap something fierce, but being awake, taking cases as she had, did more than keep the lights on. It killed the nerve-jerks inside of her. So, a few more hours. And a few more. But first, she had to get this woman to go away.

A glance at her yard and driveway made her gawp. The hell?

Yes, indeed, said the black woman, who turned to look at the production. There was a black van there, and three suited men buzzing around it. Two were arguing. One was on the phone.

Zoey stepped onto her porch in her Black Cat P.J. bottoms and strappy shirt and shut the door behind her. Barefoot she went to the edge of her porch. She glanced over the fray, just in time for several police with badges she didn’t recognize to come down her drive and step into it.

She glanced aside at the black woman. What did you say your name was?

Barbara Levine, the woman extended a hand, which Zoey didn’t take.

You know these guys, Barbara?

No, I do not.

Zoey went down the steps as the back of the van opened and a pedestal-like disk no more than five inches high, hovered out. She frowned. Had Great Aunt Cat left her objet d’art? She tucked her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly, a sound that reverberated in the trees. Everyone stopped talking and looked her way.

Thank you for your attention, she told the men collecting in her garden.

A voice rose up above the lilac shush of wind and the buzzing of bees in the yard, I need you to sign something.

No. She said, and then set a hand on her wooden railing, If anyone here is an actual client, and has an actual job for a private investigator, please come inside. Otherwise, take your vans and get out of my driveway.

That said, she turned and headed back inside the house. Barbara handed her the valise.

Zoey didn’t even get the door open.

You know it’s not going to be that simple, don’t you? said a suited man from the lawn that had overgrown the flags. She glanced over him and felt in her pants for her taser. He said, It could be.

Okay, Zoey paused, interested in simplicity even academically, when she had no idea what was going on.

The man was about middle aged, clean-shaven, and appeared to be a lawyer, given the expense of his shoes and suit. He was looking over the house now, at its tall Victorian windows, the turret and transom, taking it all in, right to the slowly peeling paint. This house had been worse. It had been peeling so badly it had looked like it might vanish if she sneezed, but she’d swapped a petty theft investigation for a paint job and voila.

Zoey was a practical girl.

The lawyer gestured in her direction. Katherine, yes?

Sure.

Katherine, you and I both know this is no place for an Ocean. So, if you could just sign the paperwork? He tapped the front vest pocket of his coat.

She blinked and gave her head a shake. She’d been awake a while, but didn’t think she’d misheard the guy. It just made no sense. She set down the valise on the bench by the front doors and turned toward him, Come again?

The man smiled up at her. You’re clearly a fan of the Nostalgic Movement in your architecture, he said, and she looked around the porch as if she’d only just seen it.

"Oh yeah, look at that."

Off to her right, Barbara stifled a laugh.

So, I would assume, said the lawyer, that you’ve distanced yourself from the Cardinal family to pursue a simpler existence, yes? Look at you, P.J.s and barefoot at 10AM-

Her mind said, ‘You should’ve been here when I woke up with rice-crispy cookie welded to my cheek’, but her mouth said, I know how I dressed myself this morning, how about you get to a point? She smiled at him. Zoey knew her smile was charming and sometimes forgave her sins. Plus, she didn’t care.

The man on the lawn reacted to that smile like a clock to winding. He enlarged, somehow, instantly more comfortable. Miss Cardinal, there is no chance you’ll need the added expense of a state of the art proto-

Expense?

It’s a prototype. Prototypes are expensive. This one particularly so.

A prototype… ocean? Zoey tried, because why not?

Yes, the man took out a small square of plastic and gave it a shake. It snapped out into documentation. Everything was done for the ease of humanity these days. Meanwhile, Zoey had had to take a genuine paint-scraper to the actual wood of this house of hers. "This Ocean is heavily customized, Miss Cardinal. Very pricy. It was nominally in your Great Aunt’s wheelhouse only because she was on the Board of Cardinal Machines, and a clerical error in the transfer of ownership occurred. This house probably has old wiring, you know, bad for the charger. If you’d just sign here-"

No, Zoey nodded at him. Yes. The answer was No.

He bit off his next words and stared up at her, confused.

Still no. She’d crossed her arms under her breasts.

You realize, living as you do, you would have no need for the security features that come as a part of-

A car backfired in the distance and she jumped, then tried to disguise it as shifting her weight. "Right. Did you say security features?" She wiped a bead of sweat from the back of her neck just thinking about Vincenzo heading down here. And that was with cops in her driveway. They watched her with hopeful, upturned faces now.

The lawyer said, Maybe you don’t understand. The Ocean model came from the Coilm line. It’s a, how do I put this in your words-

"Try any words," she pasted on a closed-lipped smile and focused on not using the taser today.

This Ocean is a prototype. It’s a… a hotshot, as you’d say-

Oh, you’re right, and she turned toward Barbara, "don’t you think he’s right, Barbara? When he puts it that way, all I can say is I’ll take it." She shot him a cold look and went back inside, letting the door swing wide.

She went back to clearing the cluttered table as Barbara wandered in with her valise. Truth be told, apart from the hardwood floor and the antique table, there was very little left on the main floor. Ice-chest and fridge, an oven, and microwave. She didn’t even have a toaster anymore. The place was shelled-out like Halloween. Zoey finished the garbage and tied it up before walking it toward the back of the house. When she came back in, Barbara was wiping down her table.

Thought you could use a hand, said the pinstriped woman.

Right. Zoey said and then nodded, Uh, thank you. I’ll do that. You’ll mess up your, uh-

The woman filled, It’s Chanel.

Damn. Her eyes flicked up at the woman, Your Chanel, Zoey hurried to take over the cloth on the table. I’ll do it. I can do it.

You do realize, the woman stepped back and set the valise on the clean part of the table, that you’re a Cardinal, don’t you?

For a moment, Zoey worked on the table, to get it spotless, and then she looked up at the emptiness of her kitchen. She nodded as she brought the cloth to the farm-sink, You do realize that’s just a name.

The woman laughed. Cardinal Machines is an institution, Miss Katherine.

Yeah, well, she dried off her hands and tried to pay no heed to the men now milling in the front room with their disk thing, talking amongst themselves. I think I’ve had about enough of institutions.

She seemed to accept this, if ruefully, and a few minutes later, sat with Zoey in the old chairs and looked at the contents of the valise. Watching the beautiful jewelry come out, Zoey’s heart sank. She could see herself picking apart tennis bracelets full of emeralds, and necklaces full of black pearls all for her own upkeep. She’d never wanted this. She didn’t want to dismantle her past.

And your Great Aunt left you a sum of money-

By now, Zoey had her head in her hands, threads of yellow-gold sticking out everywhere between her open fingers, We can talk about this later. On the phone. When I’m awake again.

Of course, the chair before her creaked and the voice became more understanding. These types of discussions can be… very difficult. Of course. She was closer to the door and the little receiving shelf there, because Zoey could hear the rustle of paper. I’ll leave my card.

You do that, Zoey’s voice was thready. She was crashing. Her blood had run out of sugar. Her brain had run down the clock. And she still had to make it to her room.

When the door closed, the thoroughly modern lock clicked and tinkled a soft ‘Engaged’. The home security system chimed through the house to signal all windows and doors were locked, and the Air Con kicked in. After a minute of dazedness, she got to her feet, still looking down at the jewelry. She stuffed it all back in the valise, looked up, and froze.

Uh.

There was a guy standing in her front room. His clothes were neat and well-fitted. He wore the blue and silver of Cardinal Machines throughout, and excellent shoes too. More importantly, his face was open… it was striking as he stared back at her. Everything from his snug haircut to his posture was carefully harmonious.

So…. You forgot to leave with the other guys.

Nothing.

His eyes were a curious blue.

He’d scared her.

Was scaring her.

She gave her head a little shake. Wasn’t he going to-? Then she saw the electronic words along his lapel, and how they slowly strobed:

C001-Oisín

A custom… ocean.

And she understood.

Zoey put her head down. Fuuuuck.

He stood on the blue-silver disk, powered down. Maybe even charging.

There was no one to correct her. There never was, if there had ever been.

Well, Zoey, that’s what you get for being a smart-ass to the dick lawyer, I guess. Now… get some sleep, she sighed, took up the valise, and walked past the android on the way to her room. She failed to see that genial head tip up in her direction as she passed.

But she sure as hell locked her bedroom door.

Of course, he was still there after close to 12 hours of sleep, the only difference was, when she came down the stairs his eyes were shut, and she could look at his face. He had a slight tan, no stubble, and the smoothest skin she’d ever seen. It looked like he’d been designed so that his face had a slight smile at rest. Or maybe his programming was so good natured that his face had frozen that way. If that happened to androids. If that was real at all.

She backed away to look at him.

Tall. Not too tall. Slight. Not too slight. She couldn’t tell what age he might be, only that there’d been a master designer behind this technology for sure. He looked so real, so relaxed standing there in the pale light of his pedestal. Her gaze flicked to it. Which was probably costing her a fortune.

Okay, this was a mistake, she muttered to herself.

She jumped backward when he asked a quiet, What was?

Oh my God, okay. You… you talk? Zoey breathed out through her mouth. Stupid question.

Good choice, his blue eyes opened. Exhaling that way activates the autonomic ner-

I don’t care, she sliced air with both hands. Since when do you talk?

His brows pinched together a fraction, Are you asking for the exact date and time of awareness?

You’re aware? She felt a brow go up.

I am.

Self-aware?

Of course.

Right, Zoey squeezed water out of her hair and looked around her. Nothing else in the room had changed so she guessed, no objet d’art.

I don’t understand, said the android. Really, he had the most pleasing middle-tone male voice. Not too low, and not high either. It was as if he’d resulted from extensive polling. She nodded at him. Well, it means I can’t afford to charge you and when Noble Light and Power find out, they’ll cut me off, post haste. Know what that means?

Promptly, he replied.

No jokes, he looked earnest and a bit concerned, at least enough that she walked away, arms tight on her ribs, marveling, Wow they really did a number on you over at Cardinal Machines. You’re one of their models, right?

Yes, he told her.

The power blinked.

Hey, she smacked the wall. No fair! I paid you.

The android stepped down off the soft glow of his pedestal. It figured that still worked.

I hope we can cook on that thing, Zoey griped.

The thing freaked her out by following her, and artificial life or not, she was not used to having a guy in the house with her. He was quiet for a machine. He went to the double doors and looked at the locking mechanisms. Then he put a pair of her antique chairs under the door handles.

I get it, she said, security measures are your thing. But I need those. You’d better not hurt those chairs. Some of us can’t stand up for….

He went to a window and glanced carefully outside.

Zoey shook her head and went to remove the chairs.

Don’t, he told her quietly. Or do your friends usually wander around your property with sawed-off weapons, Miss Cardinal?

"No," she whispered, urgently, on her way to the floor. What a question?

Then you have a problem. His eyes were tracking something that was crossing the yard.

My problem is the response time of the Sheriff’s department around here, and the fact you locked the doors with chairs, dammit. She wheezed at him. By now, Zoey was hurriedly crawling her way through the living room where he stood. Stop standing by the window and call the Sheriff.

The android lifted the edge of his coat. There was a badge clipped to his trim belt.

It was with the police? What the hell? She bit back, Great. I bet you have no jurisdiction here, if you’re going to be at the window, be useful and tell me what he looks like.

Male; 6 foot 1; 182 pounds. Vincenzo Arcuri. Arrest record includes five counts of domestic violence, and seven of drunk and disorderly. Unsteady gait indicates possible inebriation.

Who cares, she said practically, fishing in her purse. Is he pointing the gun at the house?

Affirmative, the android said quietly. He’s having difficulty mounting the steps.

Good, Zoey said savagely. And, for the record, if he’d just been able to walk in and find no one home, we’d be making popcorn in an hour. You screwed that up. But when she looked up, the android was gone.

The door handles jogged. I know you’re in there, a drunken man’s voice came through the wood and glass, muffled and indistinct. You little bitch!

Zoey pocketed her mace and her taser and pressed the silent alarm on her watch. It flashed the word ‘Signal Dropped’ back at her. Great. He has a jammer. She scuffled along the floor toward the back staircase, one that had once been used by servants only, but now was an added convenience to her.

And she froze. The back door was open.

It was 50/50 now whether Arcuri was in the house, or waiting outside to blow her away. Zoey breathed deeply, quietly, and wedged herself into the shadow of a side table that remained. She pulled the stun gun from the back of her yoga pants and took out an extra cartridge she tucked in her teeth. Now the wait.

Maybe. Maybe not. He came up the back steps shouting, Where are you, you teenaged bitch! He passed through the mist of the back porch with an audible chock-clack as he chambered a cartridge of energy. I got something for you.

Yeah, I got something for you too, she said through teeth clenched on the weaponry and fired the stun gun. The first cartridge hit the broad side of a, in her defense, massive stub of gun. It’s sudden sparking died in air as the needles bounded aside.

Where the fuck are you? He squinted into the darkness.

She spit the second cartridge into her hand and reloaded with her heart in her throat. Zoey had lived through a lot of death in her family. Even fighting for her life, she half-expected to end up this way.

I don’t give a fuck, he blundered on the step inside and leveled the gun. I’ll just light up everything. That’ll do the trick.

The gun’s muzzle jerked suddenly upright. The energy cartridge popped right out of the side, and Vincenzo made a choking sound as the butt of the gun hit his Adam’s Apple. All this happened as she didn’t look up from reload. She leveled her stun gun and shot the towering man.

Vincenzo tipped over backward out the doorway with a choked cry.

The gun stayed where it was, seeing as custom Ocean was holding it. He glanced down the twinkling lines back to Zoey. Good, before he stepped outside and, no jokes, cuffed the guy.

Zoey could hear him Mirandize the man in English and, she swore, Italian. She didn’t know much more than that, because she sagged against the wall, panting. All she could hear clearly was her heart pounding in her ears. Finally, she pried her fingers from the stun gun’s trigger. He has a jammer.

Located, confiscated, replied the Ocean, and deactivated.

She tripped the silent alarm again. This time the watch folded out to a phone cuff around her wrist and gave a soft shuddering to tell her that the alarm was active. Zoey folded back against a wall, unable to get control of her limbs.

A moment later, the Ocean crouched down beside where she was hiding under the narrow hall table. His blue gaze passed over her. He took the weapon out of her hand and set it on the table above her. You’re unhurt, he told her and turned the cuff on her wrist, the authorities have been summoned.

They don’t always come out here, she sucked air, trying to breathe.

You called for help, the android said. They will come.

I’ve called a lot in the past, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. A lot of the time, she held up the cuff, they think the silent is a false alarm.

The android got to his feet, and, eyes shut, Zoey heard his even voice overhead as he put a call through to the local Sheriff’s department, rattling codes and all.

He crouched a final time. You are unhurt, Miss Cardinal.

Then he left and went onto the back porch to deal with Vincenzo and his moaning.

The local Deputy’s department arrived less than fifteen minutes later.

By then, Zoey had made it to the bathroom, where her spinning head kept alarming that it was now time to puke up yesterday’s hot dog. Her upper body was suspended before the Powder-Room toilet, one hand on the wall, and the other on the cabinet above the tissue roll, and she could hear the sounds of the perp being shut in a car, and local Sheriff’s in the front yard.

You new here? She knew many of the voices of the men in the local Sheriff’s Department, and this guy for sure. He sounded curious, which he should have, seeing as there hadn’t been a man at this address since the unfortunate demise of Zoey’s uncle, Ryan. Something she didn’t want to think about. Still, hearing Deputy Hall outside made her stomach stop clenching. She heard him repeat his demand, but more firmly now, You new here, son? Stay still and keep your hands where I can see them. Who are you?

The android had the most honest voice she’d probably ever heard. I’m C001-Oisín, out of the Coilm line of Cardinal Machines. You’re Deputy Hall. I called you in response to a breaking and entering and attempted murder?

Hall sounded shocked, "A what now?"

"Re. recordings, this is a two-party consent state, but video pertinent to the