Phoenix Ward
The Installed Intelligence Trilogy Collection
Copyright © 2019 by Phoenix Ward
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To my friends and family - and the future.
Contents
Foreword
I. INSTALLED
Preface
Columbine
Today
Karl
Lecture
Feedback
Stewart
Threat
Presentation
Mindshare
Maynard
First Impressions
Compromise
Progress
The Lab
Rescue
Judgement
Caged
Escape
Shelter
Thompson
The Calm
Undercover
Encrypted
Second Nail
Hiding
Stalward
Decision
Black Market
Fort Leddy
Negotiations
Confrontation
Spark
Chase
Lies
Truth
Resist
After All is Said and Done
II. CORRUPTED
Preface
Launch
Headlines
The Couple
Theories
Simon
Trishilan
Coffee
Murder
Vicky
Greetings
Offer
The Hunt
Deceived
Warning
The Mall
Danger
Off the Grid
Radar
Rendezvouz
Rubik
Lobo
History
Surrounded
Standoff
Rescue
Resistance
Dr. Miller
Insurrection
The Stranger
Paranoia
Refuge
Propaganda
Nathan
Broken
The Holdout
Attack
Hard Storage
Failsafe
Questions
Answers
Martyr
Defeat
III. DELETED
Preface
Slumside
Game On
Patrol
Scoreboard
The Motel
Gauge
Sympathy
Challenge
Shedding
Birthday
Orders
Cattle
Eviction Notice
Disconnect
Captured
Afterbirth
Calvary
Waking
Interrogation
The Furnace
Outside
Briefing
Reception
The Naming
Nidus
King Hum
A Shell Without a Snail
The Decision
Determination
Homecoming
Joker to the Thief
The Councilman
Déjà Vu
Counteroffer
Divinity
Red Pill
No
Godliness
Layers
Unplugged
Gaslit
Free
Final Bet
Purple Pill
Faithless
Scheming
Raid
Vigil
Envoys
Orange
Ghosts
Gearhead Guild
Truck
Battalion
Warplan
A Short Refrain
Revolution
Powder Keg
Tides
Deleted
Shift Change
Heads up!
About the Author
Also by Phoenix Ward
Foreword
The three novels contained in this collection follow over a hundred years of conflict between humans and installed intelligences. Each novel follows a new set of characters all living in the same timeline, charting the entire course of the I.I. wars.
I
INSTALLED
Preface
An installed intelligence (I.I.) is a digital backup of a human mind which can think and act of its own accord. Legally and practically, I.I.s cannot be activated until after their organic counterpart — their bodies — have died. At first, they were created as tools to run machines designed to clean up the terrible aftermath of World War III. Once their original purpose was served, they became mere novelties of computer engineering. Eventually, when their sentience became clear to the general public, they were granted equal human rights. For some, however, that wasn’t enough.
This is the first act of the Installed Intelligence saga.
Columbine
I could use a vacation, Susan thought to herself as she walked through the front door. Somewhere warm and quiet.
The lights over the entrance cast arched shadows throughout the tiled floor of the lobby. A crimson banner hanging above the doorway spelled out the name of the Columbine Installed Intelligence Bank in a small white font. It was humble—the type of business that wasn’t accustomed to walk-ins.
Susan’s heels clicked over the shiny floor as she made her way through the lobby and to the reception desk. She gave the woman behind the desk a short, friendly smile before digging around the inside of her purse for her security badge.
The woman waited patiently while Susan rummaged through her belongings. The receptionist tossed her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder and gave the smile she had been trained from day one to show customers. She made that expression that scrunched up a girl’s face and made her eyes sparkle. It was almost like she was pressing her lips together to whistle, but that’s just how she smiled.
Susan found the badge and slid it over the scanner on top of the reception desk. The device beeped and gave a green flash.
“So how was the weekend, Susan?” the woman behind the counter asked.
The older woman needed a moment to return some things to her purse.
“Good, good,” she replied. “Got to relax with the kids for once. They seem to never be able to meet in one place these days.”
“Kids can get busy,” the younger woman commented. Her phony countenance never diminished.
How would you know? Susan thought to herself. You look barely old enough to date my youngest son.
“They sure can,” she replied. There was no reason to drop her facade of politeness this early in the day. “Still, they could make time for their mother—since I was the one to feed and raise them and all.”
“I love my mother,” the receptionist interjected. “I always go to see her whenever I can.”
“Well aren’t you sweet,” Susan replied.
Once the security door to the offices finally swung open, she made off for it like it was a departing train. She wanted to leave the tension of the conversation with the new girl. Susan wasn’t cold, she just didn’t connect to girls of that age. They couldn’t remember a time without cerebral computers or automated transit. They didn’t recall a time they weren’t connected to everyone else, every second
