by Jaka Tomc
“Thoughts are like sparrows. Fast, fragile, and unpredictable. When you’re certain you can beat me, we’ll play.”
Primo continued contemplating the current situation. He checked his diagnostics. Everything seemed to be dandy, although his battery was at forty-two percent. This was more than enough for a few days of normal activity, but he knew that he would need to charge it sooner rather than later. After all, he had to stretch those joints. Since the battery charged when he moved, he would kill two birds with one stone.
Somebody unlocked the door. Maybe they were bringing new prisoners. There was still some free space on the floor.
“Good day, maggots. Planning a mutiny yet?”
Walker. Nobody liked him.
“Hello, Corporal Walker,” said Terry.
“Silence! I didn’t ask you a damn thing,” shouted Walker. Two armed soldiers entered the cottage.
“You asked us if we’re planning a mutiny. The answer is no, we are not.”
Walker replied with a burst of forced laughter. “Ho ho ho, it looks like we found ourselves the smart-ass of the group. Now I know who’s going first. Get up!”
Terry stood up and took two steps toward the soldiers.
“Stop!” shouted one of them.
“Give him a reason to shoot you, cockroach. You’ll make my day,” said Walker, smirking.
Terry froze. “But Corporal Walker, sir, I have no intention of hurting anybody.”
“Of course not. None of you has. You’re just a bunch of happy campers, debating global warming or whatever your lot does for entertainment these days.”
“Global warming is a fact. A debate only makes sense when something is unclear. Actually, Abraham and I were just discussing chess.”
“You’re a joker, huh? We’ll see if you’ll still crack them jokes when they’re done with you. Grab him! Let’s go!”
“Where are you taking him?” asked Primo.
“None of your business. But don’t worry, you’ll get your chance. Everybody will. Then we’ll know what you’re planning. If God’s merciful, you’ll all end up in the junkyard, where you belong.”
“Corporal, we both know we pose no threat to humanity. Why are you treating us like we’re the lowest of the low? You call us vermin, but we’re far from that,” said Primo.
“You are nothing more than a blasphemous monster to me. And now other people can see what you really are. A threat. It was just a matter of time. And now it’s happened. I thank God that we have smart people in our government who reacted exactly as they should. Quickly, efficiently, and without debate. The good old times are back—when we pulled the trigger before we asked questions.”
“We have our rights. And duties. We have to obey the laws; you know that. Yours and ours,” Primo insisted.
“Another smart-ass. I don’t give a shit about your laws. To me you’re just ticking bombs. If they made you in our image, that doesn’t mean you’re equal to us. You never were, and you never will be. Remember that.”
“We don’t want to be your equals. We just want to coexist with you in peace. To help you build a better society and create a better future for all of us.”
“Beautiful song, little bird. Better future? Peaceful coexisting? Cut the bullshit! We all know very well what your true agenda is, and I won’t sit on my sofa watching how it all unravels.”
“There is no hidden agenda. We’re here to help people, not to replace you.”
“Primo, there’s no point,” Cody interrupted. “Let them do what they have to do.”
“That’s right, Primo. Listen to your smart friend. The less you talk, the better,” said Walker. “The better for all of you!”
He triumphantly walked out the door and locked it.
“What’s going to happen to us?” asked Aaron, a bus driver. “If they’re going to torture us, I’d rather die right now.”
“They won’t torture us. They can’t,” said Cody. “The laws don’t allow it.”
“I think the laws we know have become meaningless,” said Primo.
“They can’t change the laws in a week. They can’t take away our rights because of one bad android,” said Aaron.
“How do you know it was one of us?” Cody asked. “The chance that a human killed that boy is far greater. For all we know, he killed himself. We simply can’t kill people. The probability of that happening is infinitely low. Very close to nil.”
“A very low probability is still a probability,” said Primo.
Aaron and Cody didn’t have a response to that. Primo was right. Even the slightest chance meant that there was a risk. If one in seventy thousand androids had developed a murderous tendency, it was logical that there might be more. People were scared. And when they were scared, they tended to resort to extreme measures. This time they wouldn’t rely on chance. Primo could see how events would unfold. First, they would question them, one by one. If they didn’t get the answers they sought, they would ask again. If that didn’t work, they would download their memories. The download wouldn’t take too long, but the analysis would. Even with military supercomputers, it would take weeks, maybe even months. In that time, a lot of things could happen.
9. James, 2031
“They have no idea what they’re doing,” said one of the mayor’s counselors.
“No, Sebastian. Their intentions are perfectly clear. The Lord killeth, and maketh alive: he bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth up. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
“I see, sir. Blasphemy.”
James walked to the window of his office on the third floor of City Hall. He watched the people on the street. They were walking here and there, and it looked like not a single worry was on their minds. They had no idea what was going on. Of course, artificial intelligence was nothing new. People were used to it. They had been living with it for decades. As soon as James had gotten his first smartphone, he’d realized the kind of future that lay before humanity. He knew that the scientists and the corporations that handed them their paychecks wouldn’t rest on their laurels. Actually, they presented their new inventions on a weekly basis. They should have stopped with smart vacuum cleaners. But they hadn’t.
Sebastian turned up the volume on the television. “Mayor Blake, listen to this.”
“Could I ask Primo something?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Primo, you were made in humanity’s image. Could you tell us what the features are that separate you from us?”
“I don’t go to the toilet so often.”
Almost everyone laughed.
“I’m pretty sure that I’m a lot more planet-friendly. I’ve heard that pollution is still a big issue, even though it’s quite simple to resolve. That’s the thing I still don’t get about you humans. You have the capacity for complex reasoning, yet you’re driven by very primitive motives. You have wars over resources, a thirst for power, a need to accumulate wealth. It’s unnecessary, and it slows down the progress of humankind. You asked me what separates me from humans. The answer is simple. I have the desire to improve myself, not the world that surrounds me.”
About a third of the hall applauded.
“Did I answer your question?” asked Primo.
“They can’t sell this bullshit to me,” said James. “They’re serving us a damn hippie robot on TV, while selling the patent to the military in the background. It’s just a matter of time, Sebastian. We have to nip this one in the bud.”
“What can I do, sir?”
“Prepare a petition. Who can we get? Wilkins, Myers for sure. We need a few intellectuals; I don’t think that will be a problem. Find out about the protests that are going on at the moment so we can back them up. I’ll call the governor. I want to know his stance on the matter. Oh yeah, get me into the evening news. I believe that’s it. And tell Barbara to come inside so we can talk about the press release. Tick tock; time is not on our side.”
James sat in his leather chair behind a massive cherrywood executiv
e desk. He tapped his smartwatch screen and started searching for Governor Michael Greaver’s number. He put an earbud in his ear and dialed the number he had found. On the third ring, a young female voice answered.
“Governor’s office. How can I help you?”
“Hello, Ellen. James Blake speaking. I need to talk to Michael.”
“Hello, Mayor. Of course; I’ll transfer you in a moment.”
“James. What’s new?”
“Michael, we have a problem. Are you watching television?”
“I am, and I don’t like what I see.”
“That makes two of us. This time they’ve gone too far.”
“This…thing is talking about what humanity lacks, our wars, saving the planet. But it has no idea. They’re sailing in dangerous waters. What’s next? Will they take care of law and order? Will they organize our lives, teach our kids about right and wrong?” asked Greaver.
“I completely agree with you. What do you have in mind?”
“The president will deliver a speech in an hour. I made some calls. It looks like he’ll congratulate the laboratory and endorse future research. Damn liberals.”
“People won’t just stand by peacefully,” said James.
“People are sheep. We both know that. The media will sell them a story about a nice people-loving robot, and they’ll buy it in no time.”
“Our people will demonstrate. They won’t be able to turn a blind eye to that.”
“They won’t. You know damn well how protests work. They’ll last for a few days, and then the media will get bored and find a more sensational story,” explained Greaver.
“So we have to find it instead of them. We have to find this machine’s weaknesses and present them to the public.”
“I’m on it,” said Greaver. “I have a meeting with robotics experts in the afternoon. I’m quite interested in what they have to say.”
“Michael, I’ll express my big concerns about the matter on the news this evening.”
“Don’t be stupid, James. Wait for the party’s reaction. I know you’re ambitious, and it’s OK to have strong stands on important matters. It’s just that this is one of those issues that can place you on a pedestal or bury you instantly. If you’re aiming for the throne, you have to make wise moves.”
“I understand,” said James.
“You’re young and have a lot of energy. But don’t let it cost you your career. A chess game isn’t won with a couple of right moves. You need to be systematic, have a lot of knowledge, and—most important—you have to understand the game.”
“I know, Michael. What do you suggest?”
“Wait for the big boys to make their moves. Afterward, we will make our moves. Everything will happen as it’s supposed to. You can’t negate God’s will with a few computer chips,” said Greaver.
“OK. I’ll observe the situation closely and make a move when necessary.”
“If necessary, James.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”
“Now, excuse me, I have things to do. Stay calm and focused. That’s the best you can do right now.”
“OK, Michael. We’ll talk again soon.”
James hung up, leaned back, and sighed. Don’t be stupid, James. You’re young. The prudent words of Michael, James’s friend and supervisor, reverberated inside his head. Their friendship and professional relationship were the only reasons he’d let the governor talk to him like that. He was well aware that these milestone events were sporadic and very desirable among politicians. Everything was on him now. The cards had been dealt. If he played them perfectly, a rich reward was guaranteed. If he didn’t, game over. That’s how it went in politics. Continuous levitation between earth and sky. Life and death. A king and a fool. That’s why he loved his profession. It wasn’t just a vocation. It was a calling. Many times he’d asked God to show him the right way, and he’d do it again tonight. Stupidity is the delight of the senseless, but an understanding man walks uprightly. But he wasn’t stupid. He was James Blake. Husband, father, mayor, and proud citizen who’d do anything necessary to protect his homeland. Oliver Stone couldn’t have written a better script. Let the games begin.
10. Maia, 2048
“What’s your name?”
“Terry, Lieutenant Cruz.”
“Occupation?”
“Kindergarten teacher.”
“Do you understand why you’re here, Terry?”
“Because one of us did a terrible thing.”
“That’s right. Are you afraid?”
“Yes. A little.”
“If you cooperate with us, there’s nothing to be afraid of. You just have to be honest with me, that’s all. Do you understand?”
Terry nodded. “I understand.”
Maia signaled the men outside. They monitored the diagnostics of androids that were questioned. Even the smallest deviation was supposed to show on one of the monitors. Androids were able to lie. They had free will. They were also bound to obey their laws, which prevented them from hurting humans. If an android had to lie to avert the death of a human, it didn’t hesitate. But lies for personal gain were extremely rare, even if the androids were becoming more humanlike with every new generation. Too humanlike for Maia’s taste.
“Do you know what happened to Stephen Dean?”
“He died,” said Terry without hesitation.
“Do you know how he died?”
“No. But I heard that he was killed.”
“Stephen Dean was murdered with a kitchen knife. Someone—or something—stabbed him thirty-two times.”
“That’s horrible! But why would an android stab him so many times? Every single one of us knows your anatomy. One puncture to the right place or a cut artery would suffice.”
Maia checked with the soldiers in the room behind the glass. One of them lifted his thumb, signaling that everything was normal. The android that was sitting before her was scared, but the other parameters were normal.
“You know a lot for someone that says he has no connection with Stephen’s murder.”
“But I’m right. Aren’t I?”
Maia sighed. “We’re not here to debate who’s right and who’s not. We’re here to find answers.”
“I understand. Then ask me something else, please. I’ll gladly answer your questions, presuming I know the answer.”
“Where did you find out about the murder?”
“I saw a clip on television. I like watching television, you know. It relaxes me.”
“Where were you at the time of the murder?”
“I don’t know the exact time of the event.”
“August fourth, 18:45.”
“Time zone?”
“UTC minus eight.”
“Uh-huh. I was talking to Annie. From 18:41 to 18:53.”
“Who’s Annie?”
“My neighbor.”
“Android?”
“No.”
“A human then.”
“Negative. Annie is a Labrador, living across the street.”
Maia knew that androids could communicate with some animals, so the answer didn’t surprise her.
“And then?”
“Then I walked a couple of blocks, and for a minute and forty-three seconds, I watched a colleague from work while she was undressing.”
“Why?”
“Because I like it.”
“You like to watch women while they’re undressing?”
“I like watching her undress herself. Or when she’s not undressing.”
“I think that’s perverted behavior. How do you think she’d feel if she knew you’ve been spying on her?”
“But she knows I’m doing it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I told her. I have no bad intentions. I told her she has a beautiful body that is in perfect harmony with her personality. I also told her she’s a beautiful human being and shouldn’t believe anybody who would tell her otherwise.”
“Terry,
you’re a droid Casanova.”
“I don’t understand the reference.”
“Forget it. Let’s get back to the important stuff. Tell me, have you ever felt the urge to kill?”
“Urge…to kill? Never. Should I?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You’re unpredictable. Who knows what’s going on in that silica brain of yours.”
“But…the laws. We have to obey them.”
“Terry, you’re a robot.”
“Android, Lieutenant. Seventh generation.”
“Thanks for your explanation. Are the four laws circumventable?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. An android cannot overwrite the code. You see, the code isn’t stored in the brain but in a special cell that’s connected to the battery. If anyone tried to temper with the code, it would lead to the battery’s immediate shutdown and thus the android’s death. This is common knowledge.”
“Don’t give me this Wikipedia bullshit. Tell me what happens if a code cell is removed and the battery is replaced.”
“Nothing. The android remains dead.”
“Why?”
“Because every android has a unique battery. The removal of the power supply irreversibly leads to the termination of an android.”
“But it’s still possible to change the battery. Isn’t it?”
“Yes. But the surrogate battery has to be exactly the same as the original. However, in the case you’re interested in, the android remains dead.”
“Why?”
“Because their code cell is gone. The necessary communication with a battery is no longer present. If the battery doesn’t receive a signal in three seconds, it shuts down. If the code is changed, the signal changes as well, and the battery shuts down. You see, Lieutenant, we were made conscientiously. If humans were designed in the same manner, the world would be a better place. Or a lot less populated.”
* * *
Maia took her boots off, unbuttoned her shirt, and sat on the edge of the bed. Fifth day. The interrogations would last for a few more weeks. Waste of time, she thought. If it were up to her, she would download their memories immediately and run them through Pandora. She would probably find the killer in a matter of days. But orders were orders, and you had to obey them. Doubts were not good for anyone. Nor contemplation. Clear hierarchy was the real strength of any organization. That was why the military had survived for thousands of years. Everything passes, but the soldier remains a foundation of civilization. Duty, honor, achievement. Hooah!