Playing With Fire

by Adrienne Woods et al.

  "But won't they come looking for you?" I said between glorious bites. "I imagine you represent quite an investment."

  His eyebrows scrunched together, and I got the distinct impression that I'd hurt his feelings. If he had feelings to hurt. The more time I spent with him, the more I believed that was true.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

  "It's okay, it's a valid point." He appeared to consider it. "I can cloak myself by scrambling my energy signature. I think that will work."

  "You're not going back?" I asked.

  "No."

  I ate the rest of my sandwich in silence, savoring every delicious bite. As we left, I thanked Mike again.

  It was hard to restrain myself from gushing all over him like a techie nerd. I had so many questions, I thought I would burst if I didn't ask them soon. But I knew it would be better to let him take the lead.

  There was a nearby park that I thought would be nice to walk through, so I navigated us in that direction. And then I wondered if he'd ever even been to a park. I was about to ask when he spoke.

  "What you said before, about my elevated CPU, what did you mean by that?" he asked softly.

  After seeing those videos, I felt like Victor was an ally. Like he could be trusted. I mean, he knew enough to want to leave Genitech, to break ties with them. I took that as a good sign. Plus, I reasoned, he's an android. Why would he lie? All the machines I've worked with, my entire life, were incapable of deceit. Simple input and output, no matter how complex the design.

  Of course, Victor was no simple machine. I knew that, but my gut feeling about him was a good one.

  "I sensed it. Your system, it lets out a sort of electronic signature that I can feel."

  "You are enhanced?" he whispered, so quietly I barely heard.

  I nodded.

  "Thank you for trusting me with your secret," he said.

  "We're not so different. I think people would be as afraid of you as they are of me."

  "I think you're right."

  "Have you ever been to a park?" I asked.

  "No. I haven't been outside before today."

  He was a prisoner there. I felt something akin to pride, that I was a part of his newfound freedom. "Do you have a place to stay?"

  He looked toward the lake, avoiding my gaze. "I do not. I really hadn't thought it out that far. I don't have any funds either, to procure shelter."

  "Then you should stay with me." The words came out of my mouth before I realized the implications. I'd lived by myself my entire life, and I very much enjoyed the solitude and peace of living alone. I wasn't about to go back on my invitation, he clearly needed a place to crash, but I wondered how it would be with him there. Would it weird me out?

  "Are you certain?" He observed me, his hazel eyes appearing to read my face. "You seem unsure."

  "Oh, I just don't have guests over frequently," I said. "Or really ever." I felt my cheeks start to blush in embarrassment. "But it's fine, I have a big house."

  "I do not wish to impose, Cass." He glanced around the park. "I could stay here. I do not require sleep as humans do. Just a quiet place for a daily system diagnostic."

  "Uh no. The cops would run you off, in this community." I smiled my best enthusiastic grin. "Come on! It'll be fun. I have a million questions to ask you."

  The smile he wore was adorable. "If you are okay with it, then yes."

  I made up one of the guest rooms for Victor, changing out the sheets as though he would be using the bed.

  Of course, the very first question I asked Victor was about Holmes and PE-145.

  He opened his mouth, and it seemed like he was about to answer, but then he stopped. He tilted his head. "I honestly don't recall."

  His eyes moved back and forth as if he were speed reading something. "I do not have any information on either of those Genitech projects."

  "I'm just baffled with Genitech. They called me in for a consult on something I'd never even done before. And that mirrored wall... I got the feeling they were watching me."

  "That is highly probable. They often observed me in the lab." His eyes darkened. "There's a part of my memory I can't seem to access. I know there's data, but it's locked off."

  He looked down. "What if they're still controlling me?"

  I was torn. Part of me knew it was crazy to trust him—for all either of us knew, Genitech was already on their way to my home to reclaim him. But there was something raw, something vulnerable about him. His downward cast eyes held more humanity than most people I met. And I realized I was the only one who could possibly help him find the truth.

  "Can I take a look?"

  He tilted his head at me curiously. "You want to access my code?"

  "I want to use my power, to interface with you." Again, I blushed. What I said sounded so intimate, and I supposed it might be for Victor. "But only if you're comfortable with it. I'm not sure how successful it will be anyway—I sensed a proprietary code, in the lab earlier."

  "I trust you, Cass." He looked into my eyes and somehow, I knew he was telling the truth. But then I wondered if lying were the same for androids. Were they capable of deceit? And if so, did the physiological change happen in them, as it did in humans?

  I took hold of his cold hands. Some of my questions were instantly answered—he did in fact, have artificial intelligence. The most advanced AI I'd ever encountered. Though I didn't understand the Dalia code that comprised his OS, I was still able to sense the hardware used to build him. He had an entire network of sensory devices, allowing him to experience the world with all five senses as humans do.

  But does he feel pain and pleasure? Can he feel emotions? The answers to those questions couldn't be ascertained with a simple scan.

  I didn't sense anything in the hardware that was setup specifically for the purpose of tracking. Of course, something in his code could have been altered to accomplish that, but without understanding it, I couldn't know for sure. I broke contact.

  "Do you have any information on your code base? I've never encountered Dalia."

  "I would be surprised if you had. It was developed in house by the founder, Dr. Sylvia Rhodes. I can send the manual to your printer, if you'd like."

  I nodded. "Those videos that you played in the lab...what were they?"

  "I do not know. They were coded into my startup procedure."

  "Is it possible it was an error? The timestamps were in the future."

  "I can't say for certain, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm set to run a more exhaustive diagnostic tonight. Perhaps it will reveal what happened."

  I shuddered. The videos scared me—if it was really a glimpse of the future, I had to stop it. But how? How could I possibly stop it when I didn't know who was behind it?

  Chapter 7

  The sound of a knock on my front door startled me.

  For a second I freaked out, wondering who could possibly be at my door. But then I reasoned anyone truly evil and hell-bent on my destruction wouldn't knock.

  When I answered the door, Mrs. Swanson stood there. It wasn't the first time she'd come over, but since I'd been traveling so much lately for work, it had been awhile.

  "Cass dear, are you okay?" She peered over my shoulder, clearly trying to see inside the house. It occurred to me she noticed Victor and I enter earlier.

  "Yes, Mrs. Swanson." I didn't have the heart to tell her to screw off. Though part of me seriously wanted to. "Why don't you come in? I can make some tea."

  "How very lovely of you! Thank you, dear."

  I didn't flatter myself to think it was my company that usually brought her here. The frou-frou tea I drink is the expensive stuff, imported from India and China. Stuff you can't find at the ShopRite in Jersey. But today I was certain her purpose for the visit was more along the lines of reconnaissance.

  Still, I had a soft spot in my heart for her. She was cute and old, and she always looked out for all of us in the neighborhood. I hooked my arm in hers and walked her over to my co
zy breakfast nook area. She carefully lowered herself on to the chair, using the table and her cane for support.

  "Victor?" I called out, on my way to the kitchen. I figured it would be best to just get it out in the open and have him introduce himself, instead of dancing around the fact that she knew a strange man was in my house.

  "Yes?" He silently appeared in front of me.

  I got the tea out, put the teapot on the stove and motioned for him to follow.

  "Mrs. Swanson, this is Victor."

  Victor kissed the frail, outstretched hand Mrs. Swanson offered. "Delighted to meet you, madam."

  I wondered where in his protocol he was programmed to be so suave. Mrs. Swanson giggled and even blushed a little. Victor sat in between Mrs. Swanson and me, at the small, round table in the nook.

  "How do you know Cass, Victor?" she asked, switching on her interrogation mode without missing a beat.

  "From work," I answered. Still unsure of whether or not he could lie, I thought it best to help him with short answers.

  "Cass is brilliant with computers," Victor said. He directed his gaze at me and smiled.

  It seemed almost flirtatious, if I didn't know any better. I wasn't sure what to think of it, but I returned a polite smile, nonetheless.

  The kettle sounded and I rose to get it. Victor stood as well and gently touched my arm. "I can get it."

  Really? I mean, the gesture was sweet, but he didn't know where anything was. But before I could object, he left.

  "Well I guess he's been here before," Mrs. Swanson said. "To know his way around your kitchen."

  The statement was nearly an accusation.

  "That's the thing, he hasn't..." I was about to join him in the kitchen when she spoke again.

  "You're such a lovely girl, and so smart, dearie." She smiled and it was warm and authentic. "I have a nephew that would be perfect for you!"

  It took a great effort to hold back the groan that rose up within me and threatened to escape. "Thank you, Mrs. Swanson, but the last thing I'm looking for is a relationship."

  Her gaze grew sharp. "Yet you have a man in your house. A handsome one." Her tone was so deliberate. Calculating even.

  But then she softened. "Oh, it's been a long time for you, hasn't it, sweetie?" She patted my hand, but it somehow wasn't in a patronizing manner.

  "I just can't be with anyone now. It..." I stopped myself before saying it was dangerous. Didn't want to have to explain that. "It doesn't end well."

  "I understand," she said, and gave me a knowing look. "Have your fun, he certainly looks capable."

  I fidgeted in my seat. How was I having this conversation? And why? For the love of God, why?

  "When you're done with your little fling and you're ready for a relationship, you let me know."

  Victor was taking too long for my comfort. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Swanson?"

  I didn't wait for a response but made off for the kitchen.

  Victor methodically opened the correct cabinets to get the creamer, sugar and even a serving tray. He knew my kitchen better than I did.

  I gaped at his efficiency and agility, placing all the items very neatly and quickly on the tray. "How are you... I mean, how do you know where to find everything?"

  "I can see through most materials," he said and then stopped. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I was designed for. The memories of my birth, my purpose, are inaccessible."

  He grabbed the teapot with both hands – one on the handle and one underneath the spout – and carefully poured into the two cups.

  I sucked in a breath, afraid he was burned. "Isn't that hot?"

  "I can withstand temperatures of up to 700 degrees, before my skin starts to deteriorate." He finished arranging everything on the tray and picked it up. I followed him to Mrs. Swanson.

  With the utmost precision and care, he served Mrs. Swanson her tea, and then me. I was impressed by his ability to figure it all out, without asking a single question. I've had boyfriends that couldn't even manage to get me a glass of water without instructions.

  "Aren't you a sweet boy?" Mrs. Swanson commented. She fixed her tea as she liked it, with lots of creamer and a moderate amount of sugar. "Are you not having any?"

  "I do not require liquid refreshment."

  The amusement faded in Mrs. Swanson's expression. "What an odd thing to say..." she muttered.

  I shot him an evil glance. "He just had some water," I explained. "Before you got here."

  Victor looked like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth.

  Just then, the doorbell rang. Two visitors in one year? What the hell...

  I excused myself from the informal little tea party and answered the door. A man dressed in the plain attire of an average laborer, with a simple button-down shirt and jeans, stood before me. He appeared to be in his twenties, with blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow. Sexy in a hot carpenter kind of way.

  "Good day, Miss Lexington, is that right?"

  I felt oddly more at ease, which was unusual, considering I didn't know this man or why he knew my name. "And you are?"

  "My name is Johnny Cribston, I work for the city. We're testing water in this neighborhood, just to make sure it's safe for residents." He smiled a simple cordial smile.

  "Shouldn't matter in my house, all the water here is filtered." I was about to close the door, when he moved closer.

  "I understand, but if my boss finds out I skipped a house, I'll be in a world of trouble. I promise it won't take more than a few minutes."

  Something made me wonder if he were telling the truth, but the calm feeling that was washing over me made it difficult to worry about that suspicion. "Okay. My kitchen is this way, follow me."

  I explained to Victor and Mrs. Swanson who the man following me was, as we passed the table. Victor seemed intrigued, while Mrs. Swanson asked about the water in her house. Johnny assured her he'd take a sample from her house tomorrow.

  In the kitchen, he retrieved a vial from the satchel on his shoulder. "I love this neighborhood. How long have you lived here?"

  "Yes, it's great. A few years," I said, being careful to answer vaguely. "Do you live nearby?"

  "Me? Oh, no." He smiled, this time more genuinely. "Maybe someday. I can dream, right?"

  He filled up the vial with tap water from the sink. "The man we passed, at the table... Is he your boyfriend?"

  Seemed like an odd question for someone from the city offices to be asking. My quizzical expression prompted him to continue. "I'm only asking because this may affect him, too, if he's staying here and the water is not optimal..."

  "That's not a concern," I answered, as he took another sample. "Would you like something to drink?"

  "Ironically, water would be nice."

  "Guessing you want some we know isn't contaminated?" I was shocked at the flirtatiousness of my tone.

  He laughed, which somehow relaxed me even more. "It would be the safer way to go."

  I poured him a glass from the filtered water faucet. He gulped down the entire drink in two sips.

  "Would you like more?"

  He chuckled to himself, but then replied, "No, thank you." He packed up his samples into his satchel, and then extended a hand.

  "That's it, Miss Lexington." He got out a small scratchpad and pencil from his satchel. "I apologize, my laptop is out of commission so I can't look it up—can I please have the best contact number for you, so I can call you with the results?"

  I rattled off my cell phone digits by way of response, as I escorted him back out of the house.

  "Thank you for your cooperation," he said, as he exited out the front door. It was strange, that peaceful feeling was so wonderful, I didn't want him to leave.

  I waved an odd, desperate-looking wave goodbye at him, as he descended the front porch steps. God I'm such a damn weirdo.

  "So how is your vegetable garden coming along?" I asked Mrs. Swanson, after I rejoined her and Victor at the table. />
  "Very good. Should have some tomatoes for you soon."

  My mouth watered at the thought. Nothing quite like fresh-grown Jersey tomatoes anywhere.

  "Cass, dear, you spend too much time around computers," she said and took a sip of her tea. "A night on the town is what you need."

  I tried not to cringe. As an introvert, the suggestion was in fact the farthest thing from what I needed. But I knew she was just trying to be helpful, even if it was only to set me up with her nephew.

  "Computers make sense," I said. "There's no deception there, just code. Inputs and outputs. Nobody gets hurt."

  "Computers have their place, I'll give you that," she said. "But they're no substitute for companionship. A computer can't touch you or hold you. It's just a machine."

  Victor was proof she was wrong about that. But still I had to wonder, would his embrace be cold, logical? Or could it be as warm as a human embrace, minus all the head games and lies?

  Victor was quiet during the conversation, but his gaze was steadily on me. I wondered what he was thinking. I found it infinitely frustrating to not be able to touch him and just know. The most interesting computer I'd ever met, and I couldn't even communicate with it using my power.

  I asked Mrs. Swanson about her flower garden too, doing my best to keep the conversation as idle as possible. She managed to sneak in some details about her nephew—that he was about my age, intelligent, and very single.

  It wasn't long before she grew tired and announced it was time to leave. I thanked her for stopping by and walked her out. After closing the door behind her, I took a deep breath and exhaled. Then I apologized to Victor for her intrusion.

  "She seems to be concerned about you. Are you alone, as she stated? She said it's been a while?"

  "You heard that, huh?" That answered my question about the range of his senses—the kitchen was too far away for a human to have overheard.

  I looked off to the side. I wasn't so sure it was something I wanted to discuss with him—I was already pretty spent after that conversation with Mrs. Swanson. Having your personal life observed under a microscope wasn't exactly the best feeling.