Lillith
Author
Suzanna A. Levis
Reads
97.9K
Chapters
37
When artificial intelligence is fused with a human mind, Lillith comes to life, curious, clever, and far more aware than anyone planned. Her creator is a brilliant, morally questionable scientist with a flair for chaos and a dangerous fascination with power. Meanwhile, Veronica stumbles into a connection she is warned to avoid, and ignoring that warning proves wildly difficult. Jonathan, equally flawed and endlessly curious, finds himself drawn into a world where obsession feels a little too natural. As technology, desire, and ambition collide, boundaries blur and loyalties bend. In a place where control is everything, Lillith watches, learns, and begins to wonder what love, choice, and freedom really mean.
Chapter 1: Human Dilemma
VERONICA
I slip the joint between my lips, light it, then slide my Zippo into my back pocket.
āIsnāt it a bit early to be getting high?ā Lillithās voice echoes through the implant in my head.
āIf I wanted your opinionā¦ā I mutter. āActually, Iāve got nothing. The wheels are spinning, but the hamsterās dead.ā
I pick up the remote console that tracks the location and status of every drone, but the screen stays black. I give it a high-tech repair by smacking it with the heel of my palm. The display flickers to life, and weāre in business.
āAll right, letās get these bitches in the air.ā
The roof panels slide open as I drop into one of the lawn chairs on the rooftop. Under the cover of darkness, we can test the newest drones without drawing too much attention. Not that anyone lives around this shithole. Thatās exactly why weāre out here.
Three drones zip out through the roof and hover in formation in front of me. One hangs slightly crooked.
āWhatās wrong with number three?ā I ask Lillith, glancing at the monitor as she runs a real-time diagnostic.
āHardware issue. Iāll swap it out,ā she says simply.
Drone three zips back inside, and almost immediately another rises to take its place in formation.
Weāve been using drones for a long time now, mostly for recon and tailing targets, but when you have too much time on your hands, the madness starts to creep in. I weaponized these ones for some IRL happy fun times.
Whatās the point of being a super genius if you canāt lean into the mad scientist trope every now and then?
āIt looks good,ā I say, setting the monitor down and taking a moment to smoke before picking up the controller for the drone Iāll be piloting.
āBring mine out, please.ā
Another roof panel slides open, and my tiny drone rises into the air, hovering beside my head.
I donāt know why I love these things as much as I do. Theyāre like my little petsājust less fluffy, and they donāt love me back.
Knowing this one is probably about to get shot down in the next few minutes, I try not to get too attached. Lillith will pilot the other three and try to take mine out. I donāt expect to outfly her for more than a minute, but I can sure as shit try.
āAre you ready?ā I ask Lill.
āI was born ready,ā she quips.
I scoff. āHilarious.ā
Getting to my feet, I head for the edge of the building, my drone gliding beside me. I built this one for stealth, and I canāt help the giddy thrill that runs through me at how quiet it is.
Iām definitely making more of these.
āDo you require a head start?ā Lillith asks.
I gasp in mock offense. āI have never been more insulted in my life.ā
Then I send my drone streaking into the night and steal myself a head start, laughing like a maniac.
Thirty seconds. I donāt even make it a full minute before Lillith shoots my drone down.
Bitch.
With a sigh, I power down the remote. Lillithās drones zip around me in a brief, mocking victory lap before disappearing back into the building.
I drop back into one of the lawn chairs and pull up the flight data for a closer look.
āLooks good,ā I mutter to myself. āNext time, I think we should use aluminum and make it lighter.ā
My thoughts immediately veer into darker territory, sketching out the idea of a compact assassination drone with some sort of optic camouflage. If I can keep the design small enough, it might actually work.
Maybe Iāll start with an air-rifle prototype and target my friends. Foolproof.
Well, thatās my weekend sorted.
āVeronica, Iāve had an alert come up,ā Lillith says quietly.
I keep scrolling through the drone data, searching for the weapons report.
āOh yeah? Whatās Russia done now?ā I ask. āShould we send the oligarchs more erectile dysfunction meds?ā
When Lillith says nothing, I know somethingās wrong. She doesnāt pause for dramatic effectāif sheās gone quiet, sheās processing something that isnāt data.
At full capacity, Lillith can hack the Pentagon in seven seconds flat. I know because we did it for fun one night when Iād had a little too much to drink.
If sheās hesitating, it isnāt a systems problem. Itās something more human, and human dilemmas are not her strong suit.
āLillith, what happened?ā I ask.
āJonathan Montana was just admitted to the hospital.ā
My heart stutters, then seems to stop altogether. āWhich one?ā
Jonathan Montana Sr. is as close to a father as Iāve ever had. His son, on the other hand, is the warm fuzzy center of my universe.
Losing either of them would destroy me, but if itās Junior, Iām ending it all. Iāll have Lillith hack every nuke on the planet and drop them directly on my head. Right here. Right now.
āLangone,ā Lillith says.
āNot which hospital, dummy. Which Jonathan Montana?ā
āSenior. Heart attack.ā
āJesus Christ, Lill.ā Relief rushes out of me in a long breath as I lean back in the chair. āWay to freak me out. I guess weād better get over there before they start calling in the whole family.ā
I flick my joint off the roof and head back through the building toward the underground garage.
This is one of several buildings I own on the block. Most of them are empty warehouses and factories that shut down years ago.
We like our privacy.
I chose this building as my HQ because of the green window on the top floor. Itās nothing more than a large round pane of green glass, but somehow it became one of the few things to worm its way under my skin and turn sentimental.
Jonathan Montana Sr. brought me here as a kid, right after he bought the place, and I remember thinking the sunlight pouring through that window was pure magic.
They used to make glass here. You can still wander down to the lower floors and find the old kilns, shards of glass, and strange, forgotten tools left behind.
As I start my motorbike and head to the hospital, Lillith runs me through the latest updates being added to Montanaās medical file.
āAccording to this, heās going to need a triple bypass,ā she says.
Given his age and medical history, itās unlikely heāll survive the procedure. āWith the information you have, calculate his chances of survival.ā
āWithout our intervention, his chance of survival is thirty-eight percent.ā
āFuck. Maybe open with that next time. Letās start designing medical dronesāsomething we can deploy automatically when shit like this happens.ā
When I arrive at the hospital, Lillith automatically accesses every camera and replaces my face in real time as the footage recordsātoday, sheās using Cookie Monster. Sure, Lillith is the reason Iām in hiding, but sheās also the only reason I can move through public without getting spotted.
Everything in this world is connected to some kind of network, and lucky for me, Lillith is a digital god. Cameras? Easy-peasy. Satellites? Lemon squeezy.
Sure, there are risks involved in creating a self-aware, omnipotent artificial intelligence and then giving it access to the internet. Iāve run the simulations. Hell, Iāve seen the movies. But who ever made progress without taking risks?
Am I mad? Probably. Am I gambling with the whole planet and every living thing on it? No comment.
Do I still wear a baseball cap whenever I go out to hide my face? Absolutely. Iām old-school like that. People have eyes too.
As I make my way through the hospital, I do my best not to look suspicious, but at this hour, only hospital staff are supposed to be here.
In a swanky private hospital like this, I probably shouldāve worn some kind of disguise.
āWhich way?ā I ask Lillith quietly.
āNext left. Room seventy-eighty-eight.ā
As I take the corner, I let out a long controlled breat, trying to shake off how much I hate hospitals. The most vivid memories I have of my mother are in one.
Donāt worry, Mom. Iāve got him for you.
As I read the numbers on the doors, I know the next room should be Jonathan Sr.ās.
Pulling out the vial of nano bots, I peek inside his dimly lit, empty room. If I can get these nano bots into his system as soon as possible, they might improve his chances of survival.
āHow long until theyāre done operating?ā I ask, keeping my voice low.
āNot long now,ā Lillith says.
I tighten my grip on the vial. āHow long is not long, Lill?ā
āTen to twenty minutes.ā
I glance toward the nursesā stationāLillith has already sent them all off on wild-goose chases to clear this area.
When I look back into the room, I catch movement in the shadows. A man stands at the window, looking out at the city below. Heās so still I almost didnāt see him.
Even from here, I know itās himāJon Jr. My Jon Jr. My heart kicks hard, and anxiety clamps tight around my chest.
All it takes is the thought of him, and my body goes haywire. Heās like a drug hitting my bloodstream.
My mind betrays me instantly, conjuring up the feel of his hand sliding around my throat while he fucks me.
I slap myself before ducking out of sight.
āWhy didnāt you tell me he was here?ā I growl at Lillith.
āI must have missed it,ā Lillith lies.
I scoff. āWhat the fuck are you playing at, Lill? You donāt miss anything.ā
Lillith says nothing.
āLillith, how am I supposed to inject his dad with nanos if heās here?ā I hiss. āAnd who the fuck let him in at this hour anyway?ā
āHeās gone,ā Lillith pauses. āJonathan Montana Sr. has just been declared deceased.ā
My hand loosens around the vial. Iām too late. āFuck.ā
I peek back into the room and find Jon still staring out the window.
āYou need to leave. Iāve kept the floor clear for as long as I can,ā Lillithās voice barely registers.
Empathy has never come naturally to meāI donāt have much of a heartābut one look at Jon tells me his is about to break the moment he learns his father is gone.
I donāt know what it means to love a father. Jonās is the closest I ever came to having a respectable male figure in my life, and even then, he kept me at a distance.
I was always the freak. No one wants to get close to the freak; that would make them freakish by association.
āExcuse me, miss,ā someone says from behind me, but I ignore him, unable to tear my eyes from Jonās dark silhouette.
āHe snapped when his mom died,ā I say quietly to Lillith, remembering the self-destruction Jon unleashed on himself back then. āWhatās going to happen when he finds out his dad is gone too?ā
āMiss, you canāt be here,ā the man says again, more firmly this time. āIām calling security.ā
I keep my mouth shut and walk away. If I open it, Iām bound to get myself into the worst kind of trouble.
