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Introducing Mr. Black
Archived Post
Posts: 1,156,071 Arc User
(I originally posted this on a usenet forum in 2004. I gave it a quick once-over before reposting it here.)
Agent Black was deep in a dream when he heard his secretary calling for him. Her soothing voice, faint at first, gradually grew stronger and her calls to wakefulness more regular as he slipped comfortably out of REM sleep.
"Good morning, Mister Black. It is seven AM, the time you asked me to wake you, and you have a message."
"Hello, Christine," yawned Black. "You know, waking up would be a lot easier with you in my bed."
"That'll be your lucky day, Mister Black." It was an old joke between them. Christine was simply the audio interface of Black's computer system. Among other things she acted as the voice of his virtual office assistant, a complex program that handled his calls, took dictation and delivered messages and documents in his name. Black's computer system wasn't full AI but the programming had a lot of latitude, and he had yet to hear Christine repeat herself.
The standard interface installed by the UN IT department was an authoritative British male voice that had earned the unaffectionate nickname "Winston" around the office. Black had picked up Christine during a
brief assignment in Hong Kong from a tiny street stall that had dealt mostly in virtual porn. Installing her on his official-issue hardware had been a *****, but waking up every morning to Christine's sweet and sultry voice was worth it.
Black stretched once, long and slow, and then slipped off the luxurious hotel linens and padded across a dark expanse of carpet towards the bathroom. "So who called?"
"The gentleman who you're scheduled to meet today. Would you like to hear his message?"
"Go ahead." The bathroom, appropriately enough, was finished in slick black tile. He turned on the shower and listened to his voicemail as steam started to fill the room.
Mr. Black was here in Japan to meet an informant who was part of an arms smuggling operation. As the world's sole legitimate provider of armed force, the UN took weapons smuggling very seriously indeed. Weapons in the hands of anyone other than the local UN Army division meant trouble, and trouble was dealt with by UNSA Agent Colin Black.
And now this scumbag he was supposed to meet was saying there were complications, and he couldn't make their 8 AM meeting. Was 11 OK?
"Christine, save that message in my records and put me through to this guy."
"Right away Mister Black," purred Christine.
As the voice in Black's ear, Christine was also the interface for the computer system distributed throughout his body. She could run diagnostics for him, advise him of available upgrades and warn Black
if he was about to walk into an area where uplink couldn't be guaranteed. Right now his uplink was fine and it put him through to his informant, who answered the call instantly.
"Ah, good morning Mister-"
"You," said Black curtly, "do not set the meeting time. I do. We will now meet at the Shimbun cafe at 1 PM."
"I... uh, I'm not sure if I can-"
"Based on the conversations we've had," interrupted Black, "I can issue a warrant for your arrest by UN authorities any time I like. Don't be late." Black broke the connection as he stepped into the scalding shower.
While Christine had Mr. Black's ear, she could only take him so far. That was where his eyes took over. He had paper-thin membranes implanted underneath each cornea which functioned as displays on one side and cameras on the other. At rest they were transparent, but with a simple thought Mr. Black could turn them on.
He had telescopic capabilities so drastic they gave him headaches. He could see any number of frequencies invisible to the naked eye and use a combination of heat sensing and the radio-saturated air to see through any wall that wasn't well shielded. He could also use their display capabilities and his uplink to search the WorldNet and make calls. Unlike most people he had a much faster connection, priority override, and links to massive UNSA databases full of cross-referenced information on everything and everyone.
The scalding water relaxed Black's muscles, and as he scrubbed himself down in the spacious shower he could feel internal tissues sliding against the hypoallergenically treated cables that laced his body. His physical upgrades resembled a basic android's armature, altered to be installed onto an existing organic system. His bones were criscrossed with reinforcing metal to counter the stresses of his artificial musculature.
Early trials had shown the grisly catastrophies that resulted from crashed software in complete control of such a body. These days, agents like Black had to learn to manipulate their new bodies with a minimum of software assistance. Subroutines only took over for brief moments during the need for inhuman speed, strength or reaction, but if he were maimed or knocked out his computer systems would still take over and puppet him out of danger.
His shower finished, Black briskly toweled his brush-cut hair into wet spikes. He walked back into the bedroom and began a warmup and diagnostic routine in front of the wide windows that overlooked Chiba City. Halfway through he noticed a cable snagging slightly in his left ankle when he went into a full crouch. Hmmm. Time for a maintenance check.
"Christine, contact the office and set up a full maintenance with medical immediately after I return."
"Okay. Do you want me to assign Carruthers this time?"
Agent Black pictured the petite redhead doctor for a moment and smiled slightly. "Whoever's available, thank you though."
Black dressed swiftly in his usual gunmetal suit. He knew the office preferred standard black, but he also knew that as a rising star in the UNSA he was allowed to get away with noncompliances like Christine and flashy suits. He shrugged into his shoulder holster and picked up his gun from the night table next to the bed.
Black's gun also tied into his computer system whenever it felt his sweaty DNA wrapped around it's
handle. Unlike his other systems which were all onboard, the gun had a little system all to itself. Its tiny thoughts were obsessed with remaining bullet counts (Full clip, sir!, it gleefully informed him), functionality (Please oil me tomorrow, sir!) and genetic loyalty, firing only when in his hand. It also had a tiny camera that sent a barrel-true image to his visual targeting system. Not only did this provide him with data for the forest of crosshairs and imminent vectors he could see during a firefight, it was also useful for shooting around corners.
With his gun safely away, Black was dressed and ready for the day. And he had time to kill, a rarity in the clockwork machinery of Agent Black's life. "Christine?" he said after a moment of thought. "See if you can find me any dojos in the area."
Agent Black was deep in a dream when he heard his secretary calling for him. Her soothing voice, faint at first, gradually grew stronger and her calls to wakefulness more regular as he slipped comfortably out of REM sleep.
"Good morning, Mister Black. It is seven AM, the time you asked me to wake you, and you have a message."
"Hello, Christine," yawned Black. "You know, waking up would be a lot easier with you in my bed."
"That'll be your lucky day, Mister Black." It was an old joke between them. Christine was simply the audio interface of Black's computer system. Among other things she acted as the voice of his virtual office assistant, a complex program that handled his calls, took dictation and delivered messages and documents in his name. Black's computer system wasn't full AI but the programming had a lot of latitude, and he had yet to hear Christine repeat herself.
The standard interface installed by the UN IT department was an authoritative British male voice that had earned the unaffectionate nickname "Winston" around the office. Black had picked up Christine during a
brief assignment in Hong Kong from a tiny street stall that had dealt mostly in virtual porn. Installing her on his official-issue hardware had been a *****, but waking up every morning to Christine's sweet and sultry voice was worth it.
Black stretched once, long and slow, and then slipped off the luxurious hotel linens and padded across a dark expanse of carpet towards the bathroom. "So who called?"
"The gentleman who you're scheduled to meet today. Would you like to hear his message?"
"Go ahead." The bathroom, appropriately enough, was finished in slick black tile. He turned on the shower and listened to his voicemail as steam started to fill the room.
Mr. Black was here in Japan to meet an informant who was part of an arms smuggling operation. As the world's sole legitimate provider of armed force, the UN took weapons smuggling very seriously indeed. Weapons in the hands of anyone other than the local UN Army division meant trouble, and trouble was dealt with by UNSA Agent Colin Black.
And now this scumbag he was supposed to meet was saying there were complications, and he couldn't make their 8 AM meeting. Was 11 OK?
"Christine, save that message in my records and put me through to this guy."
"Right away Mister Black," purred Christine.
As the voice in Black's ear, Christine was also the interface for the computer system distributed throughout his body. She could run diagnostics for him, advise him of available upgrades and warn Black
if he was about to walk into an area where uplink couldn't be guaranteed. Right now his uplink was fine and it put him through to his informant, who answered the call instantly.
"Ah, good morning Mister-"
"You," said Black curtly, "do not set the meeting time. I do. We will now meet at the Shimbun cafe at 1 PM."
"I... uh, I'm not sure if I can-"
"Based on the conversations we've had," interrupted Black, "I can issue a warrant for your arrest by UN authorities any time I like. Don't be late." Black broke the connection as he stepped into the scalding shower.
While Christine had Mr. Black's ear, she could only take him so far. That was where his eyes took over. He had paper-thin membranes implanted underneath each cornea which functioned as displays on one side and cameras on the other. At rest they were transparent, but with a simple thought Mr. Black could turn them on.
He had telescopic capabilities so drastic they gave him headaches. He could see any number of frequencies invisible to the naked eye and use a combination of heat sensing and the radio-saturated air to see through any wall that wasn't well shielded. He could also use their display capabilities and his uplink to search the WorldNet and make calls. Unlike most people he had a much faster connection, priority override, and links to massive UNSA databases full of cross-referenced information on everything and everyone.
The scalding water relaxed Black's muscles, and as he scrubbed himself down in the spacious shower he could feel internal tissues sliding against the hypoallergenically treated cables that laced his body. His physical upgrades resembled a basic android's armature, altered to be installed onto an existing organic system. His bones were criscrossed with reinforcing metal to counter the stresses of his artificial musculature.
Early trials had shown the grisly catastrophies that resulted from crashed software in complete control of such a body. These days, agents like Black had to learn to manipulate their new bodies with a minimum of software assistance. Subroutines only took over for brief moments during the need for inhuman speed, strength or reaction, but if he were maimed or knocked out his computer systems would still take over and puppet him out of danger.
His shower finished, Black briskly toweled his brush-cut hair into wet spikes. He walked back into the bedroom and began a warmup and diagnostic routine in front of the wide windows that overlooked Chiba City. Halfway through he noticed a cable snagging slightly in his left ankle when he went into a full crouch. Hmmm. Time for a maintenance check.
"Christine, contact the office and set up a full maintenance with medical immediately after I return."
"Okay. Do you want me to assign Carruthers this time?"
Agent Black pictured the petite redhead doctor for a moment and smiled slightly. "Whoever's available, thank you though."
Black dressed swiftly in his usual gunmetal suit. He knew the office preferred standard black, but he also knew that as a rising star in the UNSA he was allowed to get away with noncompliances like Christine and flashy suits. He shrugged into his shoulder holster and picked up his gun from the night table next to the bed.
Black's gun also tied into his computer system whenever it felt his sweaty DNA wrapped around it's
handle. Unlike his other systems which were all onboard, the gun had a little system all to itself. Its tiny thoughts were obsessed with remaining bullet counts (Full clip, sir!, it gleefully informed him), functionality (Please oil me tomorrow, sir!) and genetic loyalty, firing only when in his hand. It also had a tiny camera that sent a barrel-true image to his visual targeting system. Not only did this provide him with data for the forest of crosshairs and imminent vectors he could see during a firefight, it was also useful for shooting around corners.
With his gun safely away, Black was dressed and ready for the day. And he had time to kill, a rarity in the clockwork machinery of Agent Black's life. "Christine?" he said after a moment of thought. "See if you can find me any dojos in the area."
Post edited by Archived Post on
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Comments
Bah, I say.
EDIT: Edited.
But a rather fun story nonetheless. He's a little edgy, which i eprsonally prefer in my 'good duys']
You know, I never thought of Christine specifically in the context of a Bond girl but that's pretty much her personality, isn't it? I use her to illustrate Black's intimate relationship with his non-human systems, to highlight the lonely aspects of his job since he has more opportunities to build a relationship with her than with the real people in his life, and to show his subconscious reinforcement of isolation whenever he chooses to interact through her or with her rather than deal with other people directly, whether for business or pleasure.
As for Mr. Black's edginess - I've used him as both protagonist and antagonist, and he was definitely the bad guy in the story this was taken from. At creation, he was seriously paranoid but a nice guy. When I repurposed him as the antagonist for a new set of characters he turned into one mean son of a gun, and I keep about half of that when I write him as a good guy now.
Glad you liked it! Since I write this stuff out of habit anyway, it's nice to have a place where it's relevant.
In short, she's royally ****ed up psychologically, for lack of a nicer way to put it.
Funny you should mention that. One of Mr. Black's defining story arcs was inspired by seeing the trailer for "Soldier" and letting my mind run with the concepts. It's an okay flick for what it is - honestly though, I think my favorite part of that movie is the passing mention that Russell's character fought at Tannhauser Gate.