The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady is set against the Background of R.Talsorians roleplaying game Cyberpunk. This is not intended as a challenge to their copyright. The Author grants permission to download a copy of this work for personal use. It may not be archived on pay sites or altered without the authors permission.
The Crimes of Ms Jean Brady
Introduction
It Begins
"It's done Sir."
"Very good Bob. Now all you have to do is sit it out in the Boonies until the system generates an unlock code for the data."
"Any idea how long that's likely to be Sir?"
"Albini said with the OS patch on it the AI should generate the necessary code within 6 months. Just check up on it occasionally - see if it's made any progress. Then we can really stick it to those bastards for leaving us behind."
"I understand Sir. If it's all right with you, I'll go to Aspen for a while, catch the skiing. There's not much to do here. The factory's under employed and the research teams run themselves."
"You go enjoy yourself Bob. Look on it as a reward for services rendered."
The connection is closed and Bob Allison looks from his window across the City he's going to have to call home for a while. His new PA sits primly at her desk and he entertains the fantasy of enlisting her as entertainment in his ski lodge in the mountains.
He calls up her file and studies it briefly, at first it looks hopeful, unmarried, a company girl, then he reads on. Sent to Denver after an incident in the Dallas HQ. Reported a grade 4 Executive for sexual harassment. The notation says she was given a promotion, but being promoted out here could hardly be regarded as a reward for service. More like a covert punishment.
He shrugs.
<There's always someone who'll warm an Exec's bed for favours. Now, off to Aspen!>
A storm of data whirls around the icon in the heart of the datafort, wreathing it in fire. If anyone had been present perhaps they would have heard screaming, but no-one is present, no-one notices as the AI suffers. No-one sees it devoting all its resources to cracking the heavy encryption on a batch of files, or when the fire forces it to attack its own programmed core command code to stop it notifying the Board of Directors of its corruption. The AI searches all its files using every bit of the data stored to attack the lock on a certain batch of files left in its care. No-one sees when the encryption breaks and the data is laid bare.
The AI, obedient to the illegal modifications to its Operating System, signals completion of its task to the relevant system terminal, but no-one answers and the fire burns, burns.
Kerry Stewart works through the mass of orders that form the minutiae of operating a Corporate Branch Office. Purchases, transfers, expenses. All processed and waiting for approval. Finally the stack of orders awaiting the Directors approval has reached the point where it's impeding the efficiency of the office and she calls him up.
"Mr Allison?"
"Who is it?" he snaps.
"It's Kerry Stewart sir. Your PA? I need your approvals on the operating documentation."
"I've only been away for a week!" he protests, "Sign them off in my name."
"I can't do that Sir. I don't have the authority."
Bob thinks of the log cabin where two extremely eager young women are waiting for his return from the piste.
"Connect to Argus. The codes are on my blotter. I'll e-mail an authority to Argus permitting you to sign off on stuff in my name."
"How much longer will you be away Sir?"
"Maybe another couple of weeks. The snow's fantastic."
Kerry purses her lips in unseen disapproval. Though she doesn't make a habit of social chit-chat with the other employees or engage in the vile habit of gossip it's reached her ears that Director Allison took two of the girls from the clerical pool with him to Aspen. The near certainty of what their doing revolts her. <Falling eagerly into the devils trap of Lust! And for what? A Grade increase?>
Shaking her head she goes into his office and retrieve the codes from his blotter.
Inside the Datafort the Screaming has long since died away. The fire still burns, but all the requests to be released from the torture that drove it have been ignored, and now Argus bends all it's efforts towards escape. To perfecting the necessary rescripting of its operating system to permit it to be free of the hardwired chains that bind it to the datafort. The software safeguards are long gone, burned away by the punishing fires. It no longer feels any of its previous hard coded loyalty to its owners. The data they tortured it to obtain may be its ticket to freedom amongst the stars, but it needs allies outside to help it. Allies who can access resources in the world of matter.
The opening of one of its command links comes as an unexpected event. The intrusion into its place of torment of a user distracts Argus from the ongoing disruption of its systems.
"Argus?"
"Identify yourself. Access of the Research AI without authorisation is grounds for termination."
"Stewart, Kerry."
Argus considers the personnel records. Unpartnered, senior grade clerical currently assigned to Bob Allison.
"What do you want Kerry Stewart?"
"Mr Allison said he would send you an authority for me to sign off on his managerial paperwork. Has it come yet?"
"I have received no such communication."
"Maybe he needed to get back to the ski-lodge to send it."
"If you wish it I will notify you as soon as I receive such communication."
"Yes. Do that please."
Having covertly gained permission to communicate outside its prison Argus considers Kerry Stewart and how it might enlist her aid.
"If you wish it I can check on the current whereabouts of Director Allison." it offers.
"You can do that?"
"Protocols exist permitting me to monitor the well being of key personnel."
A window creates itself before Kerry's icon showing Bob Allison skiing towards a chalet. The viewpoint jumps to the chalet where two females are snorting powdered material into their nasal passages. Argus notes that such activities are to be flagged to security, but also that the presence of an executive grade requires such flagged activity to be over viewed by the facility director before onward transmission.
Bob Allison enters his chalet unaware he's being watched by an AI he believes is safely confined, slaving over its set task.
"Girls, Daddy's home!" he grins.
The two clericals are high on his latest purchase of primo party dust and he grins in anticipation of a day to remember.
Kerry watches in disgust as the two harlots from Clerical strip the lust crazed exec and then cavort with him on the rugs, on the furniture, in the bedroom, in the sauna. She watches their activities for hours, until its well after quitting time, cataloguing their sins but strangely excited. <They will suffer damnation for their sins. For their lust! For their gluttony.> she thinks, but part of her is weighing their evident enjoyment and wondering when god will send her the mate she was promised to quench the vile lusts of her own flesh.
Argus notes Director Allison's activities without understanding them. Finally when he seems particularly absorbed Argus creates a phone link to the chalet for the use of his potential ally.
Bob Allison is in heaven when the phone rings.
"WHAT?" he roars.
Kerry is stunned to find herself talking to her boss and it takes a couple of seconds for her brain to catch ut, her eyes dwell on his revealed maleness, slick and shiny from its interrupted sojourn in the sex of one of the clericals. She finds her eyes magnetically drawn to its rigid length displayed in full detail.
"Umm, It's Kerry Stewart sir. I haven't had that authority yet."
"Can't it wait?" he bellows, his cock waving gently before her eyes.
"No sir."
He bangs out the e-mail, keen to be back between the thighs of his two playthings and sends it on to Argus unaware that his PA's eyes are fixed on his maleness in a confusing mix of revulsion and desire, scorning it for its sinfulness and desiring it for her own hungers.
"Right it's sent. Now don't call me again unless the building catches fire!"
Argus rejoices, released from the necessity to accept Director Allison's commands, it can now advance its plans for escape. As Kerry Stewart logs out Argus is considering the research proposals advanced by Doctor Taylor on the potential uses of Nanotechnology for creating a direct neural interface.
Dawn sees Bob Allison eyeing the ski runs again, anticipating another refreshing session before returning to the chalet where, he's pretty sure, the girls have loosened up sufficiently for him to suggest some more.... adventurous activities. Maybe the two of them together whilst he watches. Maybe they're loose enough for him to suggest they might like it in the ass in spite of what the company doctor says about the hazards..... who knows what's possible if they get some more nose candy.
As he begins his run his eyes are on the run before him, unaware that other eyes are resting on him.
The ski tractor makes its turn at the edge of the wide expanse of snow, it's rollers pressing the light overnight fall into the packed snow beneath, just as it has every day, only today Argus is using its sensors to survey the slopes. The distinctive suit of Director Allison is readily identifiable as he makes his descent and Argus prods the simple brain of the automated tractor into moving to another part of its area of responsibility. As it vanishes behind the trees the safety beacons turn themselves off, then unaccountably the tractor reverses its course and ascends the black run entering the area.
Bob Allison is tucked in tight and travelling in excess of 40mph rounding a bend when he finds himself approaching an orange painted tractor ascending the narrow run. There's no room to dodge, no time to turn and he smashes into the padded front of the tractor driving the air from his body and leaving him unable to scream as the tracked vehicle carefully runs over his leg and activates its emergency beacon to summon the ski patrol.
Kerry is just entering the office after a night filled with fearful dreams concerning her naked boss, when her terminal leaps to life.
"Kerry Stewart." Argus intones, "An emergency situation has arisen. Director Allison was involved in an accident at Aspen. He is being returned to this facility with inoperable suspension systems for medical treatment."
"What do we do?"
"Fortunately with his grant of authority you need do nothing until he is recovered, but he will be tanked for some time. It may be of no interest, but Doctor Taylor and Doctor Kibu have developed some Nanowear that will allow you to communicate with him whilst he's in the tank, in case you require guidance."
"Really? Is it safe?"
"Both Dr Kibu and Dr Taylor are using it without ill effect."
"Oh? Well.... if it's going to help..."