by J. S. Morin
“You’ve gone to some trouble,” Charlie13 stated flatly, standing in front of the wall of data with his hands clasped behind his back. For such an important robot, Eve was surprised to find him wearing workers’ coveralls. “I know what you want. The answer is no.”
“But, I—” Eve tried to begin.
Eve’s word stuck in her throat when suddenly all the screens on the wall turned blood crimson and a single instance of the word NO spread across all the screens at once.
“I’m a very busy man,” Charlie13 said. “But I’ll do you the favor of a quiet departure. The way back to your skyroamer is clear. Good day.”
The screens blinked and resumed their prior explosion of data.
“Not so fast, Charles,” Gemini warned.
Eve spun in horror as Gemini leveled the EMP rifle at Charlie13.
“Don’t!” Eve shouted, diving for the barrel of the weapon.
Gemini merely flipped the rifle to her off hand and kept Eve at bay with her longer reach.
“Quit it,” Gemini growled through her teeth. “Let me handle this.”
“An intriguing twist,” Charlie13 said calmly. He turned, and Eve was struck with the image of Charlie7. The mixer wore the same Version 64.6 chassis. The difference in attire was slightly jarring since Eve had known Charlie7 wearing a tuxedo.
Charlie13’s manner was what set a stark contrast with Charlie7. The mixer conserved movement as if he paid for every centimeter. His turn ended when he had both Gemini and Eve in his field of vision. The hands clasped at his back never unclasped.
“I’d hoped you’d prove reasonable,” Gemini said. “But Eve needs your help, and I’m bloody curious what that old rascal Charlie7 came up with.”
“I imagine you would be,” Charlie13 replied in a level tone.
Eve heard no hint of threat there, but Gemini swallowed and backed toward the door, lowering the rifle.
Without the threat of violence, Eve had to take another shot at convincing the mixer. “Please,” she pleaded. “Charlie7 promised he’d protect me. Nora109 and the others all claim to want what’s best, but Charlie7 was the only one who ever acted like it. He gave his life to save mine.”
“Charlie7 was many things to many people,” Charlie13 replied. “That was his strength and his downfall. He stopped being a part of the world and became an observer, a critic, and an irritant.”
“But he was my friend,” Eve protested. “And all he asked for was a seventy/twenty/ten mix, just like he was. Think of Charlie42 as an heir, not a replacement.”
“To what end?” Charlie13 asked, turning back to his screens. “A thousand-year-old robot won’t bear any resemblance to a new model, regardless of mix. You’d be disappointed, and the rest of us would have to deal with another troublesome Charlie.”
“He won’t be trouble…”
Charlie13 turned back. One eyebrow arched. “We’re all trouble. Some of us merely outweigh the inconvenience we cause others.”
Her plan was slipping away. Eve circled around past the desk that appeared to serve only decorative purpose and past the wall lined with shelves of odd keepsakes from a nearly thousand-year life. She stood between Charlie13 and the screens the mixer obsessed over.
Charlie13 was taller than her, but Eve looked up into his eyes until he relented and looked down to meet hers. “I need help.”
“How much more do you expect from this world?” Charlie13 asked. He cocked his head. “Hmm? Eight percent of Earth’s productive labor is devoted to a species with…” He glanced over at Gemini. “Ten known members. You are their spokeswoman. You have an appointment to the Human Committee. When you come of age, you will become the most influential member of the human race and supplant the hierarchical seniority of robots hundreds of years your elder. They’ll put armies of automatons at your disposal; you’ll rebuild entire cities to your taste.”
Charlie13 turned away. “My job is just to mix new robots. I have final say and full veto power on the Mix Committee. I am exercising that veto power over Charlie7’s request.”
Eve seethed through her nose. Her lips pursed too firmly for air to pass. Charlie13 was no sphinx with a riddle to solve. He wasn’t a puzzle. The ancient robot with the soft, firm voice was utterly implacable. For his own reasons, he didn’t want another Charlie in the world, and he had every right to refuse to help Eve.
Marching over to the front of the office, Eve reached for Gemini’s EMP rifle. But just when the Gemini’s catatonic state would have been useful, the woman carrying the robot-threatening weapon snapped to her senses.
Gemini tightened her grip and yanked the weapon back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Eve shot a finger in Charlie13’s direction. “He’s not listening. We need to make him.”
Charlie13 continued to ignore the two humans as they wrestled for control of the EMP rifle. In the tussle, the butt of the weapon came up and struck Eve a glancing blow to the face.
“There!” Gemini scolded, ripping the rifle free and interposing her body between it and Eve. “Serves you right. What’s come over you?”
“Social maladjustment,” Charlie13 commented without looking. “She isn’t accustomed to problems with no solution, I’d imagine. I place the blame with the robot who created her.”
Gemini raised the rifle. After all she’d done to wrest it away, why not just let Eve fire it? But Gemini’s hands shook, and her finger wasn’t even ready on the trigger.
“Come on,” Eve said, taking Gemini by the arm. She slowly towed the larger woman toward the exit.
Gemini had been right. Eve wasn’t rational. That Charlie13 had speculated on a cause wasn’t a reason to deny he might be right.
They had lost. But that didn’t mean they were defeated.
There was an upload rig lying idle somewhere in Kanto. So what if Evelyn11 had tried to obliterate Eve’s mind in it? Evelyn11 was gone, wiped from existence. Eve had seen the inert chassis.
Charlie13’s door slid closed behind Eve and Gemini. Automatons that had been idle upon their arrival bustled about at mundane tasks but ignored them.
Eve knew the way back to the skyroamer. She could have led Gemini out of the factory with Charlie13’s tacit blessing.
They just still had business deeper in Kanto.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Eve’s determination to press onward with her quest sparked an ember of admiration in Gemini. If it had been up to her, they would have retrenched, retreated, or reconsidered the whole idea of crafting a new Charlie.
Gemini wanted no part of a new Charlie7. But a new Charlie robot, programmed with the same mix of Charles Truman, Jason Sanborn, and Johnathan Medina… that was someone Gemini wanted to meet. There hadn’t been a robot born with 70 percent of a single scientist in over seven hundred years.
Eve didn’t comprehend the scope of the favor she’d asked of Charlie13, but Gemini did. Charlies were a necessary evil. They were visionaries, disruptive influences, and innovators.
Just like Evelyn11 had been.
There was no reason Gemini couldn’t perform the same feat of resurrection-in-effigy once she was Eve.
The eldest of the cloned Eves glided through Kanto like a dove on the wing. Gemini was a vulture, ugly and ungainly, but patiently awaiting her payoff.
All this time with Eve was research.
No one knew Eve better than her own creator.
When the time came, Gemini would slip back into the oh-so-awful lap of luxury from which Eve had escaped. The experience would have changed her superficially, but medical testing would prove her identity. Under no circumstances would an escapee from the horrors of Evelyn11’s clutches submit to a brain scan.
“Here’s one,” Eve’s songbird voice called out.
They had strayed from the path that had guided them to Charlie13’s office. Gemini was thankful for a terminal since her own attention had been elsewhere while Eve navigated.
Waves of heat pulsed from a dumbwaiter door held shu
t by hydraulic pistons. The terminal set into the wall beside it was an incinerator control console.
“Might have chosen one slightly less tropical,” Gemini muttered.
Eve brought up the command line interface before looking over her shoulder. “Sorry.”
The girl hadn’t been meant to hear the comment at all. Cat-like hearing was just another perk Gemini could look forward to.
Gemini watched for a moment as Eve ran into dead ends and firewalls. It wasn’t that Eve’s methods were wrong; she merely lacked the authorization codes for privileged information.
With the slamming of a fist, Eve shut down the console. “It just won’t tell us where Evelyn11’s machine is being kept.”
Gemini let the EMP rifle dangle from its strap. Strong fingers kneaded the tense muscles of Eve’s shoulders. No point letting the girl develop chronic issues. Plus, for the time being, she was useful to keep around.
“Just relax,” Gemini cooed in her ear. “Go have a seat. Let me take a crack at it.”
Eve’s shoulders sagged when Gemini stopped massaging them, then sighed as she relinquished her position in front of the terminal.
This was Gemini’s opportunity. The terminal relented instantly in the face of a proper ID code. From her seat on the floor, Eve wouldn’t have a view of the commands Gemini entered. No matter how perfect those hybridized eyes, they couldn’t see over corners.
“Ever wonder why there are so many incinerators and blast furnaces around here?” Eve asked as Gemini oriented herself with the layout from the computerized map.
“Failed parts,” Gemini mumbled absently. “Obsolete chassis. Refurbishment. Upgrades. All the old junk except crystalline brains is recycled.”
There it was. Charlie25’s office complex lay twenty kilometers south. Three switches of conveyor lines and a lift ride up two levels would take them right to him.
Gemini puzzled over whether to forewarn the old uploader or surprise him.
“So when Plato and I dumped Charlie7 into that volcano…”
“Powerful gesture,” Gemini said without looking back. “Most robots have at least trace amounts of predecessors in their alloys. By pitching him down the very throat of the Earth, you said that there would never be another like him.”
“I feel like maybe I should have kept some part of him. You know, like a keepsake? Nora109 likes me to keep things from outings that remind me of places I’ve been.”
The words of Gemini’s message were jumbling with fragments of the conversation with Eve. She deleted most of what she’d written and tried again. Why was it so hard separating two unrelated lines of thought?
“It’s natural to want to keep someone close to remember them,” Gemini said. “But I don’t imagine Charlie7 was the sort who wanted to be kept in pieces on a shelf.”
In deference to Eve’s affection for the old blowhard, Gemini omitted her opinion that Charlie7 would have considered any memorial smaller than a pyramid to be an insult.
Eve was quiet.
Gemini took the opportunity to craft a deviously teasing promise for Charlie25. She included the wonders of having human feeling again, the simple lost joys of food and sleep… and just how long it would take to craft a flawless male specimen to host his consciousness.
Gemini felt a hand slip around her from behind and froze. In a panic, she deleted her entire message.
A warm cheek pressed against the back of Gemini’s head as Eve squeezed her in an awkward hug. “Thank you,” Eve said, voice light as goose down on Gemini’s ear. The warm breath tickled. “I’ve been worried that I haven’t been a good enough friend to Charlie7. He’s been dead months, and some days I forget to think about him.”
A lump caught in Gemini’s throat. She didn’t know what to say, but her heart melted. It didn’t matter that Charlie7 was a rotten old cynic who’d probably had twelve schemes tucked away outside of Eve’s field of view. The girl loved him. Evelyn11 had been the mother of every Eve, but none of them had ever known a father.
Basking in the shared warmth of an unannounced hug, that was when Gemini realized she couldn’t go through with it. Maybe she could study Eve, but she just couldn’t bear the idea of destroying that mind.
Slowly, Gemini turned and pulled Eve close. Evelyn11 had held the baby Eves like this to comfort them. She’d never gotten anything out of the interaction in return, though. The two young women shared a warmth between them. Soft, yielding flesh transmitted more than simple heat, but something of the soul inside.
Memories long suppressed, of flesh-and-blood children from Evelyn’s DNA flooded back. To the clinical, robotic mind, they were pictures hanging on a wall. To Gemini, those memories were a time capsule unearthed.
“Are you crying?” Eve asked, gently trying to pull away.
Gemini clung all the more tightly. She felt the shake of her shoulders, the wet trickles down her cheek. Eve allowed herself to be drawn back into the hug and began rubbing Gemini’s back.
Time stopped or at least passed by unmarked by either woman. Eventually, Gemini found herself hanging on Eve for support and realized her silent sobs had been quelled.
“Come on.” Gemini cleared her throat. “Let’s go find a rig to make you a new Charlie.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Evelyn11’s borrowed quarters were intolerably restrictive. No data out meant no query searches of the Earthwide. All her equipment was decades out of date. Though she had access to all her old research, the experimental results wouldn’t even be replicable without upgraded gene sequencers, submolecular splicers, and access to Eve’s genetic material.
Other geneticists were going to stand on the shoulders of Evelyn11’s research. She’d be crushed into the mud beneath the weight of their advances.
News feed coverage of the hunt for Eve Fourteen had leveled off. The fever pitch was unsustainable because no one but Evelyn11 truly cared what became of the girl. All the rest of them pretended. They may even have appreciated the girl on an intellectual level as a valuable link to the future of life on Earth.
No one but Evelyn11 loved Eve.
“…unconfirmed reports hint that Eve Fourteen and an unknown accomplice may be hiding out beneath the Arctic Sea. Tomorrow’s meeting of the Privacy and Surveillance Oversight Committee will discuss whether to construct and launch a satellite custom built for the purpose of tracking Eve Fourteen. Committee chairman Arthur19 wants to ensure the public that the satellite will not be monitoring robots other than Eve’s possible accomplice and will be decommissioned upon her safe return…”
Committees. Evelyn11 would have preferred a dictator. It was one thing for a worldwide commune of scientists to organize academic committees for every little problem that cropped up. But the introduction of humans to the equation was going to strain them to back-breaking levels.
Evelyn11 needed to act.
All of Kanto’s systems were available from the lab’s consoles—in read-only mode. Evelyn11 took the data in huge floods, passing it through the lab’s dated computer systems and filtering for anomalies.
It was just a hunch, but sooner or later, Eve would be compelled to come to Kanto for help. It was no secret the girl wanted a new Charlie built per that murderous Charlie7’s last request. It was a fool’s fairy tale but just the sort the gullible Eve would fall for.
No human knew her way around Kanto. The prefecture-sized maze of steel and concrete would be the death of a wanderer. Starvation was a true concern if someone were to get lost without access to a way to call for help.
Evelyn11 pored over the data, comparing production runs against earlier, similar workloads on the factory. Power usage, automaton routing, vehicles per hour in and out; everything was fair game for statistical regression.
Luckily, Kanto’s documented regions were a nearly ideal mathematical model. Efficiency had driven out waste, inconsistency, and variability to the point where any blip outside the standard deviation held significance.
There!
; Evelyn11 could plot a path. Unexplained stops on a conveyor line. Terminals with power draw that didn’t jibe with the locations of the factory’s non-automated workers. Automatons failing to report in at designated times.
The events described a path through the factory, time-stamped and everything.
Evelyn11’s circuits went into lockdown. “You didn’t…”
Eve’s course through Kanto led directly into Charlie13’s sanctum. In the absence of Charlie7, there was no robot alive whose reaction would be less predictable. The mastermind of robotic mixing, the controller of the personalities of 80 percent of robotkind, Charlie13 answered to no authority.
But Eve’s path resumed. Evelyn11 watched in real time as the human girl took another conveyor ride and accessed another terminal. Without an external connection, Evelyn11 couldn’t begin to discover what Eve was accessing.
Grudgingly, Evelyn11 admitted she needed Charlie25. Instinctively, she reached to her internal computer to transmit a message to Charlie25, letting him know she was coming. But there was no transmitter in this chassis. It had been designed with one, but the benevolent uploader hadn’t trusted Evelyn11 with it.
“Barging it is, then,” she muttered as she overrode the door lock and exited the lab.
Evelyn11 marched through the abandoned corridors. In bygone ages, these facilities had produced the automatons that had rebuilt Earth after the invasion; now they echoed with her footsteps.
Outside the homey, if tacky, confines of her lab, Evelyn11 was reminded just how isolated her exile truly was.
It took nearly half an hour of travel to finally reach the segment of Kanto that Charlie25 claimed as his own.
Evelyn11 plowed through Charlie25’s door as soon as it slid open. “If you tell me I ought to have called, I’ll plug your ears into a power conduit.”
“You shouldn’t have come at all,” Charlie25 replied, feet up on his desk with a portable terminal balanced on his lap.