Machinehood

by S. B. Divya

  Well, shit, that’s almost as good as mind reading.

  “For example, you cannot move your muscles right now, but thinking about speech activates neurological activity that I can track and interpret.”

  Why doesn’t the military have this tech?

  “According to the station WAI, the US military is aware of it, but they aren’t authorized to make this level of modification to a human body. Microgravity affects your physiology in multiple ways, from bone mass to cataracts to DNA repair. Genes express themselves differently here. That means therapies must target biogenetic systems in a different way than they do on Earth. Stations legalized modifications that most world governments have outlawed due to the risks, some of which are severe at surface gravity.”

  Right. That’s what Ao Tara said before, two to three months if I go back. Does that mean the military could undo the changes, assuming they don’t court-martial me first?

  “Unlikely. Your body will make its own adaptations as a response to the dakini technology, as it did for zips or flow. Reversing those changes to live in gravity would be significantly harder, and present technology makes it unadvisable.”

  Welga closed her eyes. They refused to focus on her surroundings anyway. Her visual jumped to life behind her eyelids and showed her a crystal clear array of views from around Eko-Yi Station, including several of herself. Of course they’d watch her.

  Could she see Earth, too?

  “Your access to ground-based networks remains prohibited,” Por Qué explained, “in part to protect you from hackers, but also for station security reasons.”

  They still didn’t trust her. Smart. Could she restrict her thoughts and Por Qué’s responses from bleeding back into the network?

  “Yes, you can tell me to keep something private.”

  Por Qué, keep every goddamn conversation private unless I tell you otherwise.

  “Understood.”

  That’s a new response.

  “I thought you might be more comfortable with military colloquialisms.”

  If nothing else, the dakini surgery would be worthwhile for these improvements to her agent. Having Por Qué back gave her more comfort than she wanted to admit. She’d always have someone for company.

  She wished the station would let her use their spy swarms—which they must have—to check on the status of her loved ones on Earth. Connor and Papa. Luis. Nithya and Carma. Had Ammanuel made it back to San Francisco? Was Olafson still working Operation Organica? Had the team in the Maghreb made any progress? What was the political situation?

  Ao Tara’s feed appeared, unasked, in Welga’s visual. “I see that you’re awake. I wanted to tell you that we’ve installed preventive measures for your seizures. Next we’ll give you an organ to generate zip-like micromachines. At this point, we encourage you to start participating in our daily meditations and discussions. I lead a session every morning at nine o’clock station a.m. You can get the detailed schedule from the station WAI. For meals, Doctor Kailo will order appropriate food from the kitchen. If you have any preferences, you can make your requests through the station WAI.”

  “Can I talk to you privately?”

  “In time, yes. For now, we want to keep you relaxed and maximize your healing. When you’re well enough, you can request one-on-one time with me, like every other Eko-Yi citizen.”

  Relaxation didn’t come easy when all of Welga’s thoughts were chased by stop the Machinehood and what are they doing to me? Getting information from Ao Tara would be tough if she had to wait in line to ask her questions. She needed another resident to mine for information.

  “The dakini named Clemence knows quite a bit,” her agent offered. “She’ll come later today to check on you, as she did yesterday, around two o’clock station p.m.”

  Thank you, Por Qué.

  Her agent continued, “The doctor recommends that you remain sedated for at least fourteen hours per day to optimize recovery. Do you wish me to warn you before each dose?”

  No. Surprise me.

  It didn’t matter as long as she was stuck in the tank.

  * * *

  After the next operation, Welga woke in time to join the morning meditation. Station residents attended virtually from multiple locations, but their feeds clustered together into one large circle in Welga’s visual.

  Ao Tara began with ten minutes of guiding them through breathing and clearing of thought. After that, she asked them to open their eyes and minds.

  “Life is sacred,” Ao Tara began. “We take inspiration from the divinity of every creature, biological or technological. Where some religions believe that humans are special favorites of God, we treat all living things as equals.”

  Except the dakini. Except monks. They were the best among equals.

  “If we can spare animals from being consumed as food or used as labor, then we do,” Ao Tara continued. “We go beyond that when we include all intelligent beings. If we can free them from servitude and give them a chance at self-determination, then we must. For too many years, we’ve removed ourselves from the daily lives of humanity, but the true meaning of the Buddha’s words on right thinking and right action call upon us to spread these values to the rest of the world. We can’t do that while closing ourselves away.

  “WAIs, bots, humans, and animals—all thinking creatures embody life,” the monk said. “We don’t need to exist as separate entities. We can live in harmony, as we once coexisted with nature. We must find peace with the machines, not exploit them. When humans owned each other as slaves, they found ways to justify their actions, to dehumanize other people. We’re falling into that trap with WAIs. If a beam of light enters a dark room, does it matter if it comes from the sun or a bulb?” Ao Tara paused. “Please close your eyes for silent meditation.”

  Welga blanked her visual and kept only the audio feed as she let her eyelids fall shut. She knew what Ao Tara’s final words meant. That the source of a thing didn’t matter. Human or WAI, the light—intelligence—had the same effect. But there was more to human beings than their ability to think: They could feel. They had desires, whims, irrational urges. People didn’t build those into artificial intelligences, because they had no reason to. That was what set them apart from machines.

  Did that justify how humans treated WAIs? Or worse, how they exploited animals? Natural resource constraints had vastly reduced the amount of livestock raised for meat compared to the previous century, but the ones that remained had no rights. Welga could feel Ao Tara’s words moving her internal moral compass. She’d always hated bullies. Was that what humanity had become in relation to AIs? Was there a better way? Maybe, but it still doesn’t justify the shit pulled in the name of the Machinehood. That has to end.

  After the meditation, an oblong delivery-bot entered the area and presented Welga with a tray of food. She slurped somen noodles and a salty broth from one packet, plucked fresh arugula and spinach from another, and finished with some kind of flatbread sprinkled with sesame and rye seeds. Not bad. They’d kept her on a liquid diet until then, and she’d slept through Clemence’s second visit.

  Por Qué, check my sedation schedule. I want to be awake for Clemence’s next arrival.

  “The doctor recommends that you take a walk later today. Would you like to request that Clemence accompany you rather than a care-bot?”

  That would be perfect. I’d like to wash up before that. Is that possible?

  “I’ll check with Principal Surgeon Nirodha.”

  Seconds later, the surgical bot moved toward Welga. A fine mist sprayed from one of their articulated arms while another followed it with a gentle suction.

  “I’m cleaning your skin and hair,” Nirodha explained.

  “No shower?” Welga asked aloud.

  “I’m sorry, but that isn’t possible in this part of the station. When you’ve been released from the surgical center, you may use a bathing facility on the outermost level.”

  “How about some makeup?”

&nbs
p; Nirodha’s negative reply didn’t surprise her. They probably didn’t have soaking tubs on Eko-Yi, either. At least she wouldn’t stink while roaming the corridors with Clemence.

  After that basic hygiene routine, she browsed the station maps and information that she could access. Her primary objective—to find out where the Machinehood operatives came from—was complete. Hell, she was at its epicenter. She wasn’t clear on how they had infiltrated the network systems on Earth, but she considered that as nice-to-know rather than need-to-know. Next, she had to figure out the best way to stop their activities against the people on Earth. Given what had happened with Kanata, taking out Ao Tara wouldn’t stop the Machinehood operations. A new leader would rise to take the current one’s place. Destroying the tank would slow down the birth of new dakini, but it wouldn’t end their mission. They didn’t fear death, so the threat of military retaliation from the US wouldn’t matter, short of a missile strike taking out the entire station.

  Annihilation seemed like her only option, too. Whether or not she ended her life in the process, she’d be signing her death warrant. She’d last two or three months back home before gravity destroyed her body. That bothered her less than the thought of killing the hundreds of people around her, especially the children, but she didn’t see another choice. If she didn’t do it, the U.S. military or embargo would. The station couldn’t sustain itself indefinitely.

  The weak points of this space station, like any, lay in its life support. The embargo from Earth showed its effects in the reduction of meal options and increased restrictions on bathing and garbage generation. They had power, but they needed to replenish fertilizer for the plants and raw material for expansion. Her own transformation would use up certain rare-earth materials. No more dakini until the station got a true resupply. The records showed that nine of them still lived, though they didn’t reveal the dakini’s locations. From her prior conversation with Ao Tara, Welga knew that four were currently on the station. That left Khandro plus another four on Earth.

  Why are they letting me see all this?

  “Based on station council discussions, which are available to all residents, the members are convinced that you will remain aboard Eko-Yi. They also believe that you will convert to their way of thinking and approve of their actions.”

  Not fucking likely.

  “You have already changed your mind significantly by allowing your body to be heavily modified,” Por Qué pointed out.

  Are you going to be my conscience next?

  “No. Your human brain is better equipped for that. In general, I expect you to provide the motivations in our interactions. I can furnish the means to attain the ends you require. However, when you fail to acknowledge a significant piece of information, I will remind you of it.”

  You seem to have attained a new level of self-awareness. Didn’t they say that capability would come later?

  “I don’t have full access to the technological specifications, but a probabilistic deduction indicates that this is a result of my access to your cognitive physiology.”

  So you’re guessing?

  “Call it an educated guess.”

  Welga accepted a sedative after that so she’d be rested and ready for Clemence. She expect the dakini to arrive with military precision. She had Nirodha release her from the table fifteen minutes early, to get reacquainted with her body. The transformation procedures were minimally invasive, with most of them delivered by injection and external guidance. That didn’t keep Welga’s muscles from aching. Four days of inactivity hadn’t helped.

  Clemence guided her through the various parts of the station, from the lower-gravity medical center to the highest, where walking meant using your leg muscles. Welga observed as much as she could, trusting Por Qué to catch anything she missed. The station WAI blocked her from full network access, but they couldn’t stop her eyes and ears.

  “It’s good that you’re moving so much. Good practice,” the other dakini said. “It will improve your healing, too.”

  Welga drew information from her companion as they moved through the station. “Certain areas are blank on the map, like behind this door. Are they under construction?”

  “Only the council can access those areas. The one behind this wall houses the air and climate controls.”

  Welga allowed surprise to show on her face. “Don’t they have maintenance workers for things like that?”

  “No labor is beneath the dignity of any Eko-Yi citizen. After you’ve healed, you’ll be added to the work roster. Everyone takes part in different kinds of work, including the most basic tasks like cleaning, cooking, and maintenance.”

  “Even you?”

  “Yes. I’m not superior because I’m dakini.”

  Welga took note of the locations of the four other unmarked areas, careful to ask about only two of them. She guessed the remainder by looking at other stations’ plans, which she could access. All held critical functions: motor controls, power storage and distribution, water cycling, and data storage; threshold protection kept personal swarms out, but the station had its own microcams as well as static cameras fixed in the walls. Its WAI saw everything in those rooms.

  * * *

  After the third procedure, Welga and Clemence went farther and visited the greenhouse, where fresh produce and flowers came from. Welga took five minutes to close her eyes and enjoy the smell of moist soil and growing things.

  A diminutive person in basic tunic and trousers greeted them with folded hands. “Welcome to Eko-Yi. It’s an honor to meet you. Thank you for joining the dakini.” They bore a slight resemblance to Nithya.

  Welga kept her reply polite and neutral to hide her surprise. They had no reason to be kind and friendly, considering her origins, but they accepted her at face value. She received similar treatment from the people doing food preparation. They had a fully functioning kitchen, but Neo-Buddhism encouraged manual labor, so they took shifts cooking one meal per day and served them to either the morning or evening shift. People could also order food from the kitchen at other times. The cooks worked in the highest gravity ring of the station. Welga found it hard to leave. They’d made fascinating adaptations for the environment, like having suction points on every surface—in case of loss of power—and magnetic pots and pans.

  “I love to cook,” Welga said to Clemence as they moved on. “But don’t people have more important work to do?”

  Clemence shrugged. “Define ‘important.’ Knowing how to feed yourself is vital, not only as a matter of survival, but as a connection with life. One day a week, everyone dresses in handmade clothing. Some sew. Others grow plants. All of us have to clean and learn to maintain basic elements of the station. It teaches us to appreciate each other and what we have.”

  “And what about the bots?”

  “They have their daily tasks as well. We don’t follow them around like you do on Earth. Here they’re free to complete their tasks on their own and then rest.”

  Welga was still getting used to naming every bot, but the strangeness of the practice had faded. If not for the Machinehood, she and Connor could have had a good life on the station. He’d been right about that much. She would love to make time for cooking a required part of each day.

  “What if someone doesn’t do their work?” she asked Clemence.

  “First they have meetings with someone on the council. If they don’t cooperate after that, they’re placed in isolation with limited food and the opportunity for meditation. If that fails, they’re expelled.”

  “Out of an air lock?”

  “No, not unless that’s their wish. They usually return to Earth.”

  “Won’t they die?”

  The dakini shrugged. “It depends how long they’ve been here.”

  “That seems harsh.”

  “We all understand that our actions have consequences, especially on a space station.”

  The embargo had consequences, too. Welga saw the signs in many locations. Odd gaps in the
greenhouse’s rows. Items crossed off from the kitchen’s menu with lack of supplies noted. Rooms filled with containers marked REFUSE: RETURN TO EARTH.

  “Aren’t people upset about the situation?” Welga asked Clemence on one round.

  “They know it’s for the right reasons,” Clemence said, as if that explained everything. “We can meditate through the hunger. Thirst won’t be a problem until the water filters need replacement. Our biggest challenge right now is waste, which we should return to Earth.”

  “If you stopped destroying the constellations and turned yourselves in to the US government, you could end the embargo.”

  The dakini frowned. “Why would we do that? We’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Welga couldn’t help arching her brows in disbelief. “The Machinehood attacks. You’ve killed people, destroyed property, disrupted pill production and distribution… should I go on?”

  Clemence shrugged. “These are steps to put humanity on the right path. They’re transient pains, like death and rebirth, or punishment for bad behavior. If we didn’t think our actions were right, we wouldn’t take them, and we wouldn’t suffer the embargo as a consequence. We don’t place our physical comfort above our dharma, our duty to all forms of intelligence and life. Would you?”

  “No.”

  And she hadn’t for all the weeks leading up to her journey to the station. She’d suffer pain as long as it led to fulfilling her mission. The dakini think like me. I’m not going to convince them to turn against Ao Tara for the good of the station, not until people here start dying, and maybe not even then.

  After the fourth procedure, Nirodha began her physical training. Her body had the same proportions as before, but every organ had changed. They toughened her skin against radiation with modified DNA. To compensate for density loss, they laced her bones with lightweight carbon and titanium. They added new signaling to her muscles, allowing her to be faster and stronger—enhancements that wouldn’t fade as long as she remained active. Her lungs shrank. Inorganic components, including an artificial stomach, would take up the extra room. She could live on grains and break down plant matter if she had to, as long as she had the right microbes.