When the River Ran Dry

by Robert Davies

  When she slipped from the next door apartment, Maela threw the gun’s sling over a shoulder, moving quickly to gather the shattered pieces, pointing automatically down the hallway toward the building’s long-dormant laundry disposal.

  “Help me get this into the chute!” she said in a near whisper.

  Cason pulled himself upright, bewildered and confused.

  “What the hell is this?” he demanded.

  “A mechanical, sent to find and kill you,” Maela said, pointing to the length of wire still held tightly in one of Daniel’s hands. “We have to get it out of sight before MPE gets here,” she continued. “Hurry up; I’ll explain later.”

  They worked quickly, ignoring the doors that went quietly open, revealing the eyes of squatters peering out after the silence returned. When the last bits of metal and tattered, synthetic skin had been stuffed into the smooth, metal opening, Maela palmed the pistol grip of her machine gun and held it up in front of her, shouting out a sudden, brutal command down the length of the corridor.

  “Every one of you, keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll come back with this and no one will ever find your bodies, you hear me?”

  At once, the successive thud of three slammed doors signaled the transients and squatters understood, unwilling to provoke what they saw only as a merciless killer. Satisfied no one would dare to stop them, Maela hustled Cason quickly toward the darkened stairwell.

  “Wait!” he said, “I have a patient and…”

  “There’s no patient, Doctor; somebody called the clinic to lure you up here. Another second and it would’ve cut your head off with that piece of wire.”

  “What are you talking about? Who are you?” he asked, trembling with confusion and fear.

  “That’s not important,” she replied, hurrying him down the steps.

  “How did you know he was going to kill me? What the hell is going on?”

  “It was sent by Victor Jamison, Doctor; they found out what you did the night Richard Mills made his Walk, understand? You pissed off some very powerful people and cost them a lot of money; this robot’s mission was payback.”

  Cason felt the shiver up his spine at Maela’s words, but it couldn’t be, he thought in silence. The Zorich device had been removed and destroyed—there was no way for them to know. Maela knew his thoughts before he could voice them.

  “They went through the system logs and found the anomaly in Richard’s transmission sequence and worked it back. It didn’t take long for them to realize you gave Richard an altered device and broke into the frequency to warn him about the Chasers at Broadridge.”

  “How do you know about that? Who sent you?”

  “I can’t give you those answers, Doctor; I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter anyway, and you’ll be safe if you disappear for a while. Just stay off the grid and find a little hotel somewhere. Pay with hard tokens and lay low a few days until this settles down. I’ll call you when it’s clear to come back out, understand?”

  “I don’t understand any of this!” he said with growing agitation. “What has to ‘settle down’ and how does it have anything to do with me?”

  “That’s not your problem,” Maela answered.

  “That’s it? You machine gun an android sent to kill me, tell me to disappear, and I’m supposed to go along without an explanation?”

  Maela stopped and grabbed his elbow, wheeling him violently around.

  “Yes, you are! You’re still alive and you’ll stay that way if you do what I’m telling you to do. Later, after it’s over, somebody will find you and give you the rest of the story, okay? Just do what I’m asking and keep quiet about it!”

  After a twenty minute ride, Maela left him outside a modest overnighter where shift workers from the northern sectors often stayed during their weekly rotations. Safely inside, and disconnected from the network, Cason would remain beyond the eyes of the Watchers and Jamison’s wrath when the Commission learned of Daniel’s failure. There was nothing more she could do and she hurried home to shower and change clothes; the evening train to Veosa waited at the western transit station.

  Julius Trent paused as the last security door opened, but One Nine was already there when he padded across the soft carpet of her annex to their chosen place near the windows.

  “Good morning, Julius.”

  Trent smiled and motioned her to the big chair.

  “How are you feeling today?” he asked.

  “Very well, thank you. Was the Detective able to reach Doctor Cason in time?”

  “Yes, and from her description, not a moment too soon.”

  “Daniel was there?”

  “He was, but Maela intercepted him before he could get to Cason. You helped her save a life and I want you to know how grateful we all are. You should know also that Valery and I are very proud of you.”

  “I’m glad. Daniel is a very dangerous person.”

  “Was.”

  “Detective Kendrick destroyed him?”

  “There wasn’t much left, apparently.”

  One Nine turned away for a moment to consider the outcome, Trent guessed, but her expression seemed strangely solemn.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No; he would’ve killed that man without regret.”

  “And the fact that Daniel was a mechanical, not very different from you, doesn’t make a difference?”

  “Not at all. Should it?”

  “I just wondered.”

  She smiled and shifted in her place, looking closely at Trent.

  “You wondered, or the project wondered?”

  Again, One Nine’s understanding of nuance and hidden concern made by scientists who watched her caught Trent off-balance.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps they worried my preferences and allegiances would favor other mechanicals over humans, regardless of my position here.”

  “Audrey and Jessica?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “Isn’t it? They were clearly surprised when I offered to help the Detective find and stop Daniel.”

  “I suppose they were, but you were willing to give away a position of strength in order to save Doctor Cason’s life. They saw that act as one of character—of deliberate sacrifice—and the effect was powerful.”

  “But I haven’t completed the process yet; the most important information won’t be revealed to them until they arrive in a few moments.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not?”

  “They trust you, now. You might want to consider trusting them, too.”

  She smiled again and looked down, as if mildly embarrassed at the sudden declaration Trent had made.

  “Is this part of the process? Am I being tested and measured so that Valery can satisfy herself I am ready to join human society?”

  “It certainly hasn’t hurt, but these circumstances are unique and not part of your development. They’re taking it day by day—we all are.”

  One Nine stood and went to the window. She often looked out through the glass when sensitive topics would be discussed and Trent waited for her to speak.

  “Julius, do you remember our conversations about moral imperatives and accepted behavior in an overall community?”

  “Yes, of course; why do you ask?”

  “I am troubled by the concept and my actions in the first moments after my program was reassembled in the laboratory’s temporary array.”

  “What happened to make you feel this way?”

  “I know it was wrong, but I accessed a transmission node from the inner lab’s terminal. Inside, I found and read communications between Valery and Administrator Galrick.”

  Trent felt his face flush immediately; the system she penetrated was designed as a singular, point-to-point channel and secure from intrusion. Somehow, One Nine had broken its log-on code, but worse, she felt no hesitation to reveal the act openly. Trent couldn’t decide if her words were made from
an honest place, or offered as a demonstration of her growing intellect and technical skills. He decided to go with her and see where the journey led.

  “What did you find?”

  “The Administrator was angry with her for agreeing to my request.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “He believes removing my behavioral inhibitors in favor of emotion layers are insufficient to prevent me from becoming dangerous someday. The worry was very clear in his voice; he’s afraid I will go rogue and harm people.”

  “What did Valery say?”

  “She disagrees with him. Valery insisted the successful development of emotion layers demonstrates my personality characteristics are now inseparable from the empathic elements within my cognitive processors. She told him it is fundamentally impossible for me to alter the behavioral constant—that my ethical and moral direction cannot change or be changed.”

  “How did Galrick react?”

  “He shouted at her and I could sense profound fear in his voice. He warned her not to trust a machine. He believes I’m becoming skilled at deliberate deception and manipulation.”

  Trent listened, but the moment shifted from their usual conversations into something more. One Nine had never spoken of the issues tormenting Galrick (and others), yet she continued to analyze with stunning objectivity, even knowing the words were being recorded by Trent’s tiny machine.

  “Did Valery happen to mention your behavioral inhibitors were removed almost a month ago?” Trent asked.

  “No. I don’t think I would still be here if the Administrator knew.”

  “Where would you be?”

  “In pieces, waiting to be disposed of in a bio-hazard incinerator, I suppose.”

  Like a surging wave, the moment carried Trent along—fearsome and dangerous, yet too intoxicating to resist. There was nothing he could do but ride it out and listen as One Nine laid bare the concerns of others that threatened her existence. Even as he struggled to hold a face of indifference, she turned suddenly and said, “I need to tell you something else, Julius.”

  “Of course,” he replied; “anything you like.”

  “The debriefings you conduct with Valery, Jessica and Audrey after our conversations…”

  Trent’s senses soared with anticipation.

  “What about them?”

  “Valery records each conversation so that replays can be analyzed and details examined that might have been forgotten.”

  “That’s correct.”

  One Nine moved closer, yet her voice remained clear and strong, uncaring that others would hear.

  “I was able to access the archiving server where those files reside.”

  Trent had long suspected the moment would arrive, but still it rolled over him like an avalanche. In his thoughts, he heard their words in oddly jumbled groups, speaking of One Nine as only a test subject—an exceedingly rare laboratory experiment, perhaps. He felt his spirit sink, knowing she heard it all. Despite the assurances to One Nine she was about to emerge from the machine and take her place as an equal, they spoke of her with condescending tones no one could miss. By any measure, she knew they had done little more than talk behind her back.

  “If I may ask, which recordings did you access, specifically?”

  “All of them.”

  “I see.”

  Trent felt his pulse quicken and he knew she could see it, too.

  “Did you experience an emotional reaction?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “You listened to our discussions, and some of the topics were quite sensitive—personal. Were you concerned or disappointed?”

  “I thought the disappointment would be yours,” she replied. “It was inappropriate for me to listen in secret.”

  Trent’s head swirled with confusion.

  “Never mind propriety,” he said; “I want to know how you felt after hearing our discussions.”

  “It was interesting and I learned many things, but mostly I felt uneasy because it was something I kept from you. I should not have made the deception, so I felt regret.”

  Trent shook his head in disbelief, unsure if One Nine’s response was genuine, or if she was only staging the discussion to another purpose.

  “We thought you might gain the knowledge to compromise many internal systems at some point.”

  “You’re not angry with me?”

  “No! Your curiosity attributes are no different from ours, and that is very encouraging. If the roles were reversed, I can’t imagine any of us would’ve acted differently.”

  “If that is true, it means my behavioral development and successful integration process is more important to you than honesty. It suggests a moral contradiction I find disturbing.”

  At once, Trent felt the weight of her words and the stark realization they had all been caught in an irreconcilable ethics trap. For all their conviction and desire to complete so unique a project, had they indeed sacrificed those most basic of civil tenets in the name of technical success? Again, Trent fumbled with possible responses, exposed and alone.

  “After you are released to join our community, you will find certain conditions demand of us decisions that are not always ethical or honest, One Nine. As you progress in society, you will find this sort of problem happens more often than we would like.”

  “I don’t understand, Julius.”

  “The effort to integrate and prepare you for release is more than a research project,” Trent continued. “It was accelerated because of our need to find Elden Fellsbach’s murderer, but your safe and complete transition must be accomplished dispassionately so that nothing is missed. I apologize for what must have seemed so impersonal and…clinical.”

  “I understand,” she replied, “but the result is unchanged.”

  “Explain,” Trent said softly.

  One Nine moved across the floor, looking at him as she went.

  “You expect and demand that I behave according to accepted civil codes of conduct as a requisite for my release into society, yet you set them aside willingly and deliberately; ethics and honesty become secondary concepts when it suits you.”

  Trent stared at her for a moment, but suddenly and from behind, Valery walked toward them as Jessica and Audrey followed close behind.

  “That’s correct, One Nine. We do that from time to time, and it’s not a glowing commentary on human nobility, but sometimes we have to choose between morality and a larger need.”

  One Nine leaned her head to one side, showing another mannerism they hadn’t seen before.

  “How do you know when it’s acceptable to do so?”

  “Most times, it’s not acceptable, but we follow our instincts. As Julius said, circumstance sometimes forces us to set aside our best behavior so that something worse can be met and defeated.”

  “Violence in self-defense, or to prevent harm to an innocent?”

  “Exactly. Life presents us with those choices and we are forced to decide. Some believe unethical or abhorrent behavior must never be allowed, preferring pacifism to violence, or the comfort of deception to stark honesty. The line is blurred sometimes and doesn’t come with instructions, so we do the best we can.”

  “I see,” One Nine replied, but the truth of Valery’s words seemed only a confirmation of what she already knew and Trent watched her closely as she made the inevitable conclusions.

  “It is likely I will encounter these contradictions when I join your community?”

  “Yes, you will. All of us find ourselves at some point faced with those decisions. How we react is what defines our character and from it, our place in society.”

  One Nine sat on the floor beside Trent and crossed her legs. They had seen it before, her need to stay close to him when difficult topics challenged her in the first moments after integration, struggling to reconcile existence outside the array.

  “Julius told me the Detective found and stopped Daniel before he could kill Doctor Cason.”

 
; “She did,” Valery replied, grateful for the subject shift. “We owe that to you, and one day, the Doctor will understand who you are and what you did for him. I am thankful, too, because my father’s murderer has been punished. More importantly, he will never kill again.”

  “Shall we discuss the secondary information I promised to reveal?”

  “If you’re ready.”

  After an hour or two to rest, it was time. In a gesture meant to convey trust and belonging, Valery moved their meeting from One Nine’s annex down to a small conference room on the second sub-level typically used for informal gatherings and personnel events. Jessica and Audrey were excused to deal with mounting administrative details, leaving the others alone in the quiet room. When One Nine began, the air became hushed and still.

  “Daniel was Victor Jamison’s agent, seeing over the other Custodians’ activities on the Commissioner’s behalf. It is obvious now, but Daniel’s instructions from Jamison included murder, which indicates his programming was heavily controlled.”

  Valery sat beside One Nine, sorting through the questions waiting inside her mind.

  “How was Daniel’s existence even known outside Jamison’s systems?”