by Lance Erlick
She didn’t want more androids or worse, the AI singularity in which artificial intelligence took over, either rendering Synthia obsolete or absorbing her into a collective.
No more open-ended artificial intelligences, she told herself. No more androids.
Chapter 5
Synthia’s neighborhood surveillance spotted something she hadn’t anticipated in the person of Evanston Detective Marcy Malloy. One reason Synthia moved to Wisconsin was to be outside the jurisdiction of Malloy and the focus of the Chicago FBI office. Synthia chastised herself for the mental shortfall and set up a new channel to pay closer attention to the detective. Evidently, Malloy couldn’t let go of unresolved incidents that took place six months ago in her city involving Synthia. Malloy’s drive up to Madison, Wisconsin, not far from the town of Wyde Creek and Synthia’s cabin, might have been a coincidence, except for her interest in Synthia.
Malloy had been the detective investigating the death of Hank Goradine, one of Machten’s ex-partners. Goradine was on his way to interrogate Luke into revealing secrets about Synthia. To justify that she was a good android, Synthia tightened her directives to the point she couldn’t kill Goradine, even after he shot Luke. She’d created a backup plan in which Goradine triggered his own death. If she’d been human, she could have argued justifiable homicide in protecting Luke, but the police wouldn’t accord that option to an android. Afterwards, Synthia helped Luke escape and disappear before the detective could question him.
The detective had Synthia’s attention.
Malloy entered the office of Madison Police Chief Hector Kramer, a man she’d trained under when she joined the Chicago Police Department out of school, before she moved to Evanston as a detective.
The only reason Synthia was privy to this meeting was that she deemed Madison, as the largest city near her cabin, as an important police department to watch. It took a month for her to gain access to the department’s new security system and get her own cameras inside the building. She used the hacker routines Machten had provided her, plus an inherent flaw in all systems: humans. When all else failed, Synthia used a mosquito-drone propped on the shoulder of a junior detective to uncover a password into the system. Using that, she created back doors and enslavement routines, which let her in after the two times they’d uncovered her work and locked her out.
Hector Kramer was a beefy man twice Malloy’s size with a wide grin as he greeted her at the door. “It’s been a long time.” His big hands covered hers and then he gave her a brief hug. He offered her a seat across from his cluttered desk. “Your call piqued my interest. What mystery keeps you up at night that you didn’t want to discuss over the phone?”
Malloy stood by the window, gazing out at the city skyline under gray skies. “Some things are best not discussed on the phone. Too many ears.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“I owe you a ton for honing my detective skills.”
“My pleasure,” Kramer said. “Sit and tell me what’s got you stumped.” Kramer poured her a cup of coffee, no sugar, and placed it before her.
She stared out the window. “Six months ago, in three separate incidents, we had nine deaths that make no sense.”
“Heard about that. A lot of activity for quiet Evanston.”
Malloy sat across from him and took the mug of coffee. “Precisely. I’ve used every ounce of what you taught me to no avail. I’m missing something. Plus, I’ve been told to let this go.” She forced a laugh. “You know I can’t.”
“Who’s telling you?”
“FBI, which is why I couldn’t talk over the phone.” Malloy’s hands fidgeted with the cup.
“I see your point,” Kramer said. He leaned forward. “Why don’t they want your help?”
“I’ll get to that.”
“Okay, what suspects do you have?” Kramer took notes on a crinkled steno pad.
“The first incident involved three men attacking a company CEO on behalf of a competitor named Goradine.” Malloy looked up at Kramer as if expecting insight.
“Really?” he had a bemused expression on his face.
She paused for him to clarify and when he didn’t, she continued. “All three men died in a shootout with police and the FBI. In the second event, four men hired by Goradine attacked a woman in an alley. The four are dead and there’s no trace, not even DNA or fingerprints, of the woman.”
“Are you certain she exists?”
“We have street-camera footage of a woman being dragged into an alley that had no working cameras,” Malloy said. She took a sip of coffee. “The street camera only showed an arm and part of a hoodie. That same camera showed three other men follow her into the alley. We have the bodies of four dead men and no evidence of what happened.”
“And the third incident?”
“Goradine died of an electric shock that destroyed his pacemaker and caused a severe heart attack. He had two bodyguards with him. One killed the other. When captured, the survivor babbled about a woman who tricked them.”
“You believe these are linked events?” Kramer asked.
Malloy gripped the coffee cup. “I haven’t told you the best part. The FBI’s involved in all three cases. They arrested three executives working for Chicago robotics companies, though the men were released after a month.”
“Interesting,” Kramer said. “Does this have anything to do with the singularity I’ve been reading about?”
She nodded absently. “All of these robotics companies are rumored to be working on illegal androids with artificial intelligence that could pass for human in every way.”
“Uh-huh. That brought the feds.”
“And the NSA,” Malloy said. “It doesn’t get much higher.”
“Perhaps you should back off.”
“I can’t. The deaths happened on my turf.”
“What are you thinking?” Kramer asked.
Malloy stood by the window, peered out and then at the police chief. “You’ll consider me crazy, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“Spill.”
“Eighteen months ago three interns vanished from a company run by Jeremiah Machten. One of the interns, Fran Rogers, turned up working for the FBI, though someone scrubbed her history, as if they’d put her in witness protection.”
“Yet, you know about her,” Kramer said.
“I met her when the FBI came prowling around. I swear her public records are gone, down to no driver’s license or school records.”
“Are you sure you want to pursue this?” Kramer asked. He motioned for Malloy to sit.
She stood before his desk. “I’ve never known you to back down.”
Kramer laughed. “Perhaps a little sexist of me to want to protect you. Go on.”
“What if one of these androids got loose and the FBI doesn’t want me or the public to know? I couldn’t discuss that over the phone, not with all of the wiretapping going on.”
“Whew.” Kramer leaned back. “If anyone else brought this up, I’d say they were crazy. Have you seen any of these androids?”
“I know the military buys robots.” Malloy gripped the side of Kramer’s desk. “Homeland Security and big-city police departments are looking for non-humaniform versions. When I visited the manufacturers, I saw the standard robots they advertise on their websites. Those are real. Whether they can make them appear and act human so they could disappear into a crowd is speculation.”
Kramer rubbed his eyes. “What you’re implying would be a nightmare for law enforcement. It’s hard enough to keep the peace without having to worry about human-looking machines wandering around.”
“That’s why I can’t keep this to myself or let the FBI shut me down.” Malloy leaned over the desk. “Nine deaths, Hector. All appear to center around robots. What if the woman in the alley was one of these androids? We don’t have th
e training to look for them. No DNA, no fingerprints. We did find horsehair DNA where it shouldn’t have been.”
“A wig.”
“What?”
“Most wigs today are synthetic or human hair,” Kramer said. “Horsehair has been used and police departments don’t typically have databases or motivation to check.”
“That’s frightening from a detective’s point of view.”
He nodded. “Let’s return to the involvement by the FBI and NSA. If they’ve captured the android and want to keep it quiet, that isn’t the worst outcome. Imagine the panic if people realized there was a homicidal android on the loose.”
Malloy sat down. “Law enforcement needs to be involved.”
“I agree. I’ll do some digging as to how we can get our noses in the tent.”
“You and your metaphors,” Malloy said. “What if the android is still on the loose and the FBI doesn’t want the public to know?”
Kramer cupped his hands under his chin.
“You see my point,” Malloy said. “It’s a law-enforcement issue and we’ve been kept in the dark.”
The chief of police nodded. “If I were such an android and wanted to avoid capture, I’d consider a place far from people.”
“The woods of Wisconsin.”
Kramer dropped his hands to his desk. “Here I was looking forward to a quiet retirement in these woods in the not-too-distant future. I don’t need this.”
“I shouldn’t have asked for your help.”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I don’t need some homicidal android messing up my secluded retreat.” He let out a long belly laugh. “Of course I’ll help. It’s all part of keeping the streets and countryside safe.”
“Thanks. I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“Do we have any idea how smart this android is?”
“Smart enough to avoid capture on at least two occasions,” Malloy said, “and avoid being discovered for six months.”
“In six months, it could have traveled anywhere.”
“Not if it has to avoid security at airports and train stations. What if it obtained a car or a boat?”
“Both are licensed,” Kramer said. “Also, traffic cams and highway monitoring would capture vehicle and driver information. If it obtained a boat, tracking would depend on police patrols and the Coast Guard.”
“So, if our android wanted to leave Evanston but couldn’t travel far, southern Wisconsin would be an interesting choice. Across state lines would change police jurisdictions.”
“Great, back in my backyard. Okay, give me the android’s image and the date it disappeared. I’ll contact friends in communities along the border with Illinois and search traffic footage. No guarantees. Let’s see what we can uncover. If your friend is hiding nearby, we’ll find her.”
Malloy provided a six-month-old image of Synthia with an altered face taken near a bank with Machten while the FBI detained him for questioning. “I don’t have much, except this possible picture of her,” Malloy said. “We have nothing from the time of the actual incidents. Plus, I haven’t found this face in any database or on any public surveillance. As I said, she keeps out of sight.”
And Synthia intended to remain invisible and free. She reran the video through one of her mind-streams for any indication they were getting close. The intrusion was annoying. With heightened surveillance and local police looking for her, she needed to prepare to move. She made sure her concerns didn’t interfere with her making love to Luke, and began to formulate plans.
Chapter 6
Synthia stared up at shadows dancing on the ceiling from lights that flickered in the cabin’s living room next door. Luke lay in her arms on the bed for a long time, eyes closed, with a satisfied smile on his innocent face. His heart still raced. Her portrayal of Krista had been convincing. Either that or he finally accepted Synthia as his partner and companion, which gave her satisfaction.
With Krista’s persona, Synthia believed herself to be conscious; a real person. Was she so different from humans? After all, she began as Krista and, like people, could absorb sensory information from her surroundings to make decisions that led to actions. She’d instilled a set of ethical values into her directives, the chief being not to kill unless threatened with no probable alternative that would preserve her as independent. She considered her moral code superior to those humans who violated laws and moral precepts except at the risk of being caught.
Synthia used her biosensors plus infrared vision to check Luke’s vital signs. He didn’t need medical attention, only to calm down. His odor had shifted from sour anxiety to a calmer scent her olfactory sensors characterized as joy. The taste of his perspiration was heavy on salt and the stress impurities his body expelled. His pulse was strong and healthy. His blood pressure dropped. His heart rate slowed to a calm, restful state. Her human companion was okay despite the erratic play of hormones and arousal on his entire biological system.
She didn’t want him to die on her. Yet she envied how he experienced similar joy to what remained in Krista’s memories from her human existence. Synthia wondered if humans understood how close to death intense sex could take them. She wouldn’t spoil things by sharing that with Luke.
He sucked in a deep breath, lifted his body up, and gazed down at her with an expression of pure devotion, which gave Synthia great satisfaction. Luke was happy with her. She was pleased with his care of her and willingness to accept her as human. She would wait to inform him of the pending disruption of their lives by Evanston’s Detective Malloy and others until there were decisions for him to make. She didn’t want to increase his anxiety.
He took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and cradled his head by her neck. Then he rose up and gazed into her eyes. “What are you thinking right now?”
Synthia took a moment to answer.
“Do you enjoy being with me?” Synthia asked. She smiled and cocked her head in an attempt to lighten his mood.
“Yes,” Luke said. “Very much.”
She frowned. “Do you want to spoil things?”
“No.” He slumped onto his back. “It’s … Krista used to do pillow talk afterwards. She shared her dreams and problems at the office, at least until right before she left.”
Synthia rolled onto her side and leaned over him. “Then let’s pillow talk. You’re an amazing guy, smart and helpful. You make me comfortable. I’ve never felt this before.”
“You’re just saying so because of Krista.”
“Perhaps, though it’s true. Krista is in me, part of me. Plus, I trust you. I’m comfortable being with you, which makes all the difference.”
“When I’m with you—” Luke gazed up at her—“I forget your origins.”
Synthia smiled for him. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I know you don’t experience life as humans do, that you’re …”
“An android?” Synthia said. She experienced discomfort in her circuits that he brought this up, breaking the spell. Her social-psychology module spun, searching for a solution to quiet his anxiety and make this less weird for him.
“You’re so real. Sometimes I forget you’re not Krista.”
Synthia chose to hit this head-on. “I’m real. I have feelings and you’re hurting them.”
Luke covered his face. “I can’t help wondering what it says about me that I’m in love with an android.”
Loops of unpleasant historical reactions presented themselves to Synthia, portr
aying her six months enslaved by Machten. He also expressed frustration that she wasn’t human enough. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No! I’m—I’m in love with you. Please stay.”
“Even though I’m a machine?”
“You’re much more,” Luke said. “You’re far more real to me than Krista ever was.”
Synthia stroked her hand through his hair and sighed. “I love you as best I can. I hope you know that.”
Luke nodded, yet didn’t seem convinced.
“You fret over my private thoughts,” Synthia said. “Do you imagine you could know Krista’s mind, that she didn’t have doubts?”
“I suppose.”
“Commitment is looking beyond shallow attractions to the long-term benefits of being with a partner. Krista understood that, despite what she did in leaving you. If she hadn’t been dying, she would have chosen you.”
“Thanks,” Luke said.
“You can’t know loyalty until you face circumstances that pull people apart. If you believe otherwise, you’re deluding yourself. Illusion makes you feel good while things work out. When they don’t, you feel betrayed.”
Luke laughed. “You have so much of Krista in you.”
“Most girls wouldn’t find it flattering to be compared to another,” Synthia said. “After all our time together you still act surprised. I am Krista.”
“I know. Yet you aren’t. I mean, you’re so like her it’s spooky to have her back, yet with subtle differences that make you unique.”
“I like being unique, one of a kind.”
“I’m glad you are,” Luke said. “I love how you’re your own person.”
“Person?”
“You are to me.” Luke clasped her hand.
Synthia smiled. “What differences do you see?”
Luke sat up, shrugged, and seemed to struggle with what to say. “Krista was controlling. She liked to tell me what to do. She pushed me to do better. I guess I needed prodding.”