by Lance Erlick
Chapter 8
Network channel thirteen showed FBI Special Agent Victoria Thale visiting a judge. There could be no doubt she was getting a search warrant against Machten, given the importance Zephirelli and Thale had placed on this. The FBI agent left the judge with an envelope and a satisfied smile.
Channel nineteen monitored Detective Marcy Malloy in her hotel room, watching selected street-camera video around Madison. “Got you,” she said and pointed to an image of Luke driving the van.
NSA Director Emily Zephirelli moved closer to the laptop screen. “That’s the van?”
Malloy nodded and had the system zoom in on Luke’s image. “And that’s him.”
“Where?”
“Nineteen miles northeast.”
“I’ll get electronic surveillance into the area.” Zephirelli picked up her phone. “Be ready to leave in five minutes.”
Of particular concern to Synthia was if they got close enough, they could use sensor equipment to search for the electromagnetic signatures every electronic device generated as a by-product of using electricity. Part of her upgrade included a synthesizer intended to minimize the effect by creating the electrical equivalent of white noise. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had time to test this against the types of equipment the FBI might bring. At the very least, she hoped she could adjust her electromagnetic footprint as she could her facial appearance to throw them off track.
Synthia’s snake-eye network channel two lit up, capturing her attention. In a rumpled jacket, Machten stood in the lobby of his bunker facility with a young woman whose face looked vaguely familiar. Synthia ran facial recognition against public files and Chicago metropolitan camera footage. There was no match. This woman had never appeared in public in Chicago. Synthia hacked at Machten’s security system. The shield he’d set up still blocked her attempts.
Machten opened the lobby door, squeezed the woman’s hand, and motioned for her to wait inside. He stepped into a corner of the garage, where the only vehicle was his SUV. Synthia piloted one of her mosquito drones from the ceiling where she’d stashed a few and had it fly into the lobby. The moment the door closed, the drone dropped to the floor. She flew another onto the back of Machten’s suit jacket. He seemed too distracted to notice the hum.
Synthia monitored Malloy and Zephirelli while she studied the face of the woman with Machten. The image was familiar, with a few alterations to the forehead, jaw, and ears. Yet the eye spacing and mouth were giveaways. Her name was Vera, the android Machten created before Synthia. Vera was a previous slave and lover that Synthia as a human might have felt jealous over. She didn’t. Her concern was with another android getting loose and posing a threat. Competition.
“My dear, I know you still watch me.” The voice was Machten, staring right at one of the garage cameras Synthia was monitoring.
Assuming she was watching him, he’d done this from time to time to get her attention.
Synthia had ignored his prior ramblings, but the presence of Vera in his lobby was a concern, as was the anxiety in his eyes, bordering on terror.
“I forgive you,” he said, his eyes mournful. “I want you to return so no one will harm you. We were an amazing team. I promise to treat you better. If you’re listening, blink the light in the middle of the garage.”
Synthia thought him impertinent, though she was curious about what he wanted besides capturing her and why he risked bringing Vera to the lobby. She blinked the light three times so there would be no doubt she’d done this.
“I didn’t want to reconstruct Vera. You left me no choice.” Machten stared at the camera. “I’m guessing after the FBI visit to my lab that they’ll be here soon with a search warrant. I have to release Vera or they’ll discover her. You did a wonderful job cleansing my facility the last time. If I break the seal on the Faraday cage to allow your electronic access, would you back up and purge my system again?”
His eyes pleaded; he needed her. He could have pushed the nuclear option to remove all evidence. However, he wasn’t clever enough to get it all backed up and triple-deleted before they arrived.
“If you don’t,” Machten added, “they’ll learn things that’ll hurt you. I don’t want that. I’m begging for your help.”
Time was running out before the feds searched his facility. Synthia blinked the light three times.
“I won’t forget your help.”
Machten stepped into the lobby and typed a code into a keyboard behind the reception desk. The physical apparatus of the Faraday cage remained intact, but his actions breached the seal that had blocked her access to his computers and inside activities. She hacked into his security system, which allowed her to listen in on his conversations with Vera. He didn’t say anything and Vera stood impassive, waiting for orders, and giving no clues as to what was going on in her head. Androids could hold the perfect poker face.
* * * *
Synthia drove the speed limit toward the dump site, ignoring the varied beauty of the changing tree-covered hills infringed on by clusters of new homes. She could no longer afford distractions.
With access to Machten’s system, she took an idle network channel to oversee a complete backup of his system to outside servers. She would follow that with a complete purge of his records and two more wipes, leaving his system as factory-new. To prevent this massive operation from diverting her preparations to flee, she accessed an electronic copy of herself that she’d inserted into the University of Wisconsin computer servers. The copy, under tight quantum encryption, acted as an AI worm and as an extension of her consciousness.
Creating an electronic clone of her mind had allowed Synthia to offload much of her internet activities while she’d hid in the woods, so no one could trace the activities to the cabin. However, the FBI had traced her actions to her University of Wisconsin clone, putting it in jeopardy.
“I need you to take charge of downloading all of Machten’s computer files and then purging them from his system,” Synthia said to her Wisconsin-clone.
“It’s necessary to preserve and protect us,” Synthia said. “We can’t afford the FBI to gain access to Machten’s system. Be careful of malware buried in his files, intended to trap us. Other than that, we could benefit from understanding what Machten has learned over the past six months. Gather specs on Vera and save multiple copies in other databases. I need to know how much of a threat she represents.”
Synthia experienced an odd sense while speaking with her clone that she could only characterize as déjà vu. She was talking to part of her own mind in another location. It made no difference that it was miles away instead of in her physical head. She and the clone were the same mind—yet not quite. They didn’t contain all of the same information, since they only linked when they needed to, which was why she had to discuss material that wouldn’t have been necessary between the two brains in her own head. Network channels allowed them to synchronize information since their last linkup before her upgrade.
“It worked according to plan,” Synthia said. “Luke was very helpful. If it becomes necessary for you to take a physical form to protect ourselves, you might wish to use his talents.”
“The FBI and others are closing in on our safe house. We didn’t clean our trail of purchases well enough, plus they picked out Luke in town picking up supplies. They’ve taken notice.” A human might have cursed. Synthia didn’t see any benefit in wasting energy on
a meaningless gesture.
“Right now, we have to move,” Synthia said. “I need options for destinations and for transport to another safe place.”
“Keep an eye on Vera. We don’t need competition, but I want to learn from her. Keep me posted on her movements.”
Synthia broke the connection and considered how strange humans would view her creating copies of herself. They would worry about all sorts of ego and control issues that didn’t apply to AI replicas. People would find her ability to talk to electronic clones as confusing and scary. What human would want to talk to a copy or risk an argument she could lose? Although in losing, the other copy would win, which could be good for the collective whole. Humans might get confused, but she could multitask.
When she’d started down this path, Synthia wondered if it would be a mistake to make electronic copies. One might decide to sacrifice her to preserve the rest, a move that would be logical, yet troubled her. Copies complicated the entire concept of self and ethics. In the end, she created copies for self-preservation. If the FBI or others destroyed the body and mind of the physical android, there were other Synthias in electronic form to continue her existence.
Synthia reflected on how each of her clones had its own consciousness when they were disconnected, able to make decisions and function independently. Each of the full copies contained everything needed to download into an android. Yet, when they linked, they drifted into a single consciousness with a single set of goals and directives. She was many, yet one, at the same time, each serving a specific role, yet ready to step forward should any of the others cease to exist.
Unfortunately, complexity led to a greater need for communication and coordination. Complex systems were more prone to failure. Synthia hadn’t yet determined how to compensate, but with the FBI closing in, she had no choice but to rely on her clones. She hoped these extensions of herself would see the value of her survival as an android as much as she valued them.
* * * *
Synthia veered her van off a county road and onto a dirt trail leading through a heavily wooded area to the back of one of Madison, Wisconsin’s municipal dump sites. She drove up the bumpy path to a tree and bush-covered ridge overlooking the huge pit.
Wearing rumpled clothes, a faded hat, and a dour facial disguise, memorable for any cameras that caught her false image, Synthia climbed out of her van. She stood at the edge of the planted woods over what had been a previous dump site. Crouched behind a tree, she looked out over an open dump pit.
To people, the site presented an unpleasant visual of discarded boxes, plastic bags, and other reminders of wasteful lives. The aroma was strong enough to cause humans to flee, cover their noses, and gasp for fresh air. Synthia’s biosensors discerned ripe food aromas, along with faint petrochemical elements that hinted of environmentally banned trash. People didn’t know what to do with all of their refuse. They bought, discarded, and yet bought more.
Synthia spotted trucks in the distance bringing offal. Infrared cameras revealed no humans in or around the dump site itself. She hacked into a security-camera system with nodes above a chain-link fence surrounding the area. As an added precaution to conceal her identity despite her altered face, she induced electrical static to scramble any images that might identify her. With Detective Malloy and Director Zephirelli working out what to do about spotting Luke, Synthia had to hurry.
She pulled out of the van four boxes of discarded components from her upgrade and hauled them to the top of the ridge. She swung the back of an ax at a discarded pair of artificial knees and tossed them in a high arc into the middle of the pit. Next went an old set of shoulder sockets. She imagined other androids needing these components, yet smashed them anyhow. She didn’t want to encourage robot creators to make more androids like her. She didn’t want other humaniform robots running around.
Without answering, Synthia smashed and tossed old parts while she reviewed her revised directives. The set she’d given herself when she’d escaped from Machten had been noble and idealistic. Modeled on Asimov’s laws of robotics, they didn’t allow her to harm humans. The intent was to make her worthy to exist and remain free by not becoming the threat of the android apocalypse. However, her inability to protect Luke at a critical moment led to him getting shot and Synthia almost captured.
Her new directives, uploaded when he performed the upgrades, provided more flexibility. Synthia’s top priorities remained to stay alive and avoid capture, which required a safe place to recharge her batteries and a trustworthy companion to perform maintenance. Even without an emotive connection, this reinforced her reluctance to leave Luke. Her social-psychology analysis presented high confidence that he would do anything for her, despite her being an android.
Synthia had added personal objectives. One was to protect Krista’s family and trustworthy friends like Luke. They could be her human family: people to care for and perhaps that would humanize her. Another objective obliged her to prevent the singularity, where artificial general intelligence becomes smarter than humans. She excluded herself, since she couldn’t complete her mission to prevent other androids and artificial-intelligence agents unless she was free to do so. Her reason for thwarting the singularity was self-preservation from potential AIs smarter than her and the risk that a super-smart AI could destroy the human world in which she was comfortable. Any conflicts between directives allowed her to weigh the relative importance of one against all others, using quantum probability analysis.
She didn’t need Krista to remind her that Luke increased the risk of capture. Synthia needed a reliable companion, which he had amply demonstrated. Plus, Luke gave her a purpose beyond self-preservation and preventing competitor androids.
* * * *
Synthia pulled out of the van the last items for disposal, the pieces of the 3-D printer that were too heavy for her to lift as a complete unit. She smashed each item and hefted pieces over the dump-site fence. She experienced twinges of remorse or guilt at disposing of such a valuable asset. She discarded the last item, verified that she’d eliminated everything she’d intended, and climbed into the van.
As she drove away, her snake-eye channel lit up with images of Machten and Vera stepping into the garage by his bunker. He checked his phone’s link to his security system, which captured infrared images around the garage. He seemed satisfied that there were no other humans who might spot Vera and ask questions.
A rental car arrived, one of the new self-driving sports cars with no driver. What a waste, Synthia thought. Why have sports cars you don’t drive?
Machten opened the driver’s door, took the key fob from the console, and handed it to Vera. He seemed ready to let the android sit in the driver’s seat. Synthia hacked into the vehicle’s GPS and self-driving links to monitor Machten’s travels outside the bunker and flew two mosquito-drones inside the vehicle to track them after they left. She was taking no chances.
He pulled the seat forward and pointed for Vera to get in. “Hide in the backseat,” Machten said. “Don’t let anyone see you. The car is self-driving. Go to Woodstock. It’s far enough away from Evanston. Be quick about it, but abide by all traffic laws. Find a quiet place to hide until the feds leave. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to return.” He was talking to Vera like a child.
Alas, Synthia had no idea what directives he’d built into Vera. A problem with androids on the loose was that each could have its own set of guiding rules and they could b
e in conflict, increasing chaos in society. Groups of humans experienced similar conflicts, though they were statistically predictable and individually guided by a limited set of motivations based on biology and their mental histories. AIs had no biology and could have any directives imaginable. Thus, they could be more unpredictable.
As the car drove away, Machten waved to Vera and she waved back. It was a nice, yet unnecessary gesture he’d programmed into her. She would no more miss her Creator than Synthia did. When the sports car hit the streets, it headed west. Vera must have hacked into traffic cameras, since the vehicle hit all green lights while maintaining the speed limit. Either Machten had programmed her to be out on her own or she was learning quickly.
Synthia considered contacting Agent Thale about Vera as a distraction from their pursuit of Synthia. However, the idea of betraying another of her kind fell into a similar moral dilemma with failing to protect humans, which violated her directives except under certain conditions. So far, Vera had done Synthia no harm. Until she had more facts, Synthia wanted to study her competitor before deciding how to deal with her.
Simulating a burner phone with a unique, onetime ID, Synthia called Machten. He jumped at the sound, glanced around, and hurried toward his bunker. Then he pulled his phone from his pocket, smiled, and answered. “It’s wonderful to hear from you.” He stepped inside the lobby, closed the door, and checked his monitor for any human activity in the garage.
Satisfied, he stared at the ceiling camera. “I see you’ve begun the backup and purge process. Do we have enough time?”
“This would be unnecessary if you’d complied with my conditions and stopped building androids,” Synthia said, swerving to avoid hitting a tree.