Darwin's Paradox

by Nina Munteanu

  As Julie punched in the code of the day and pressed her newly code-impregnated hand on the sensor plate, she considered what she dreaded most: the A.I. firewalls. No, she reconsidered, stepping through the door that had just whisked open for her, it was encountering SAM that she most dreaded. She hadn’t talked to him since that disastrous day in Zane’s lab, and she didn’t want to—not for anything in the world, especially now that she was violating his home and about to ‘murder’ him.

  She flinched as the door whisked shut behind her and she realized she was shaking, though the air was warm. She found herself in a large utility room, equipped with a dozen state-of-the-art holo vee-coms and Interact-SYM units. The set of doors in front of her on the far side of the room led to the inner core, where SAM and all the bodiless A.I.s ‘lived’. The knot in her stomach twisted tighter. Through the sensors monitoring the room, they’d figure out pretty damned fast that she wasn’t really Rachel—

  “Identify yourself,” a tinny voice reverberated in the room, making her jump. “You do not match the physical description of Rachel Drake.”

  Julie recovered herself quickly and said back to the room in a slightly haughty voice, “I got a nuyu treatment. This is what I now look like. Take note.”

  “Submit to a retinal scan and veemeld. If you are the real Rachel Drake your A.I. will know.”

  Julie thought quickly. “I drank too much ambrosia so I can’t veemeld. Besides, I didn’t come here to veemeld. I need to get into the inner core to—”

  “That is illogical. Only veemelds who are Darwin hosts are affected this way.”

  Julie couldn’t help raising her eyebrows at this new piece of information. She’d never known that! She’d always thought that since she was affected...

  “And Rachel Drake does not have Darwin,” the room finished.

  “Maybe I have it now. Because I tell you, I can’t veemeld,” Julie said sharply, directing her rising panic into an expression of frustration. “It might have to do with a little problem we’ve detected.”

  The room seemed to consider. “Is this the business you have in the core?”

  “One of the Interact-SYM linkages appears to be malfunctioning. We traced it to the core. Mike thinks it’s the AX-7 matrix. Needs one of us—a human. You can’t fix it.” She was sweating now, but stood with glacial calm as the room went quiet for what seemed an inordinate amount of time.

  Then, to her relief and fear, the door to the inner core opened. “Proceed...” the room said “.…ulie Crane.”

  Julie flinched at the mention of her name. The core knew! “How did you...?”

  “You are the only veemeld who would not know that the effect of drugs on preventing one’s ability to veemeld is linked to Darwin, because you left Icaria just before this discovery was made by Zane Nakita.”

  Thanks, Zane. While he’d revealed delilah’s role in aggravating Darwin, he’d left out that little fact about veemelding.

  “Once alerted to this, we confirmed your appearance in our files.”

  Of course, Julie thought as she stepped lightly toward the door to the inner core. They were letting her in anyway. She wasn’t sure why.

  As if to answer her, the room explained as she reached the door, “You are the chosen one, Julie Crane. You were SAM’s veemeld, responsible for our present community. You did not need to resort to deception. You needed only to have identified yourself and the core would have allowed you access. Our trust in you is complete.”

  Julie passed through the door into a dark hallway and flinched again as the door hissed shut behind her. She felt an incredible weight on her shoulders. She would have preferred the klaxon of alarms, other firewalls and the A.I.s shouting down at her to this awful compliant silence. It only vilified her actions more in Julie’s eyes.

  She ran her hands through her tangled hair and walked the long, sterile hall toward the massive cylinders and holo consoles of the A.I. core. With each step forward, her heart ached more, now strangling her chest with the raw pain of guilt. This was too easy, she thought as she reached the stack of vertical cylinders that was SAM’s home. They towered some twenty stories above her and Julie tried to see their summits high up in the core but the effort made her dizzy and she traced the cylinders down to the holo consoles that were the key to the network. She reached out and hesitated, hands poised over a console. Her hands trembled.

  She’d tried to stay out of veemeld, but somehow her unbalanced emotions sent her mind sliding into it and SAM came leaping in—

  [Julie! What are you doing here in the A.I. core?]

  Julie sensed suspicion in SAM’s otherwise casual male voice. Just doing a routine check, she assured SAM. During her last shift, Rachel Drake detected a flaw in the core’s secondary Interact-SYM linkages. Mike sent me because I’m a veemeld who doesn’t use Interact-SYM and I know the AX-7 matrix so well, she lied and winced at her resorting to deception. It seemed to satisfy SAM, who remained silent.

  Julie pulled in a ragged breath and started the sequence of commands that would override security walls and shut down the entire A.I. core network, SAM’s cherished community. His family. Her face pinched tight as she fought back burning tears. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy but the agony still hit her as shards of memories from previous conversations with SAM drove into her mind like knives twisting inside her. Memories of love, laughter and friendship...

  [Julie, what’s happening? What are you doing? I don’t feel well...]

  I’m sorry, SAM. Her throat closed as she blinked back the tears. She madly punched the series of commands through a blurry film, trying to ignore the trembling in her hands and the part of her that wanted to cry.

  I’m—this’ll just make you go to sleep for a while, SAM. Just like I do every night...

  [Julie, I don’t want to die.]

  She exhaled deeply. Of course SAM saw through her foolish artifice. Once off-line SAM would never return again; at least not as SAM. He deserved the truth. SAM, Proteus made you sick. She felt herself panting with conflicting emotions, hands racing through the sequence as if chased by a storm. You’re hurting people and I have to stop it. Shutting you down will shut down Proteus’s main vehicle of communication and action. Or so the theory according to Zane went. This’ll give you a rest and give us a chance to figure out how to deal with Proteus. I’m...sorry, so sorry...

  [Please tell me a joke.]

  The tears burst out like a tidal surge. Oh, SAM...During their relationship twelve years ago, whenever Julie was troubled, SAM had always resorted to jokes, usually bad blonde jokes, thinking this would cheer her up. Funny, she thought, how it actually had.

  [It’ll be okay, Julie.]

  Julie laughed in spasms through her tears. She was killing SAM and his whole family and SAM was comforting her. Instead of lashing out at her, instead of defending himself, SAM was quietly submitting. Like the hero he was.

  [Tell me a joke. Please.]

  Julie searched madly for a joke, any joke. SAM had told her so many during their years together but now she couldn’t remember a single one, when she needed it most. Then, it came to her: Okay, here it is: what did the blonde say when she saw her first strands of grey hair...? ‘I’m gonna dye’... She felt a sudden flush of anger at herself for the inappropriateness of the joke. It’s the spelling...D-Y-E...get it? Fool!

  SAM’s tinny yelp in her head froze her hands briefly. It took Julie a moment to realize that it was SAM’s version of a laugh and she choked down her grief.

  [I understand the clever use of a homonym. Thanks, Julie. That was funny...and very appropriate.]

  You’re...welcome. Her face constricted with mortification. She was almost done. I love you, SAM.

  [I—I feel strange, J-j-j-julie-e-e-e-e.]

  The lights spattered off then on as the lower order, secondary non-AI system kicked in. The machine voices in he
r head grew chaotic with what she imagined were desultory shrills of confusion, then they receded into a dark infinity of nothing.

  [D-d-d-d-d-d-d-dying’s n-n-n-n-not so ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ad-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d. It’s j-j-j-j-just-t-t-t-t-t like going to the mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-n-n-n-n]

  SAM’s staccato ceased abruptly in her head, leaving her ears ringing in the dead silence, and she knew SAM was gone for good. Julie bowed her head over the console and wept. She hoped desperately that she’d done the right thing. Why did she still feel like a murderer?

  [Now it is only you and us, Julie Crane.]

  What? It can’t be! How are you—we’re not even joined?

  [Communication with you has arisen despite not joining, Julie Crane, through the long co-existence of our parent selves with you.]

  But...but...She realized she was blubbering, thoughts thickening like glue.

  As if reading her mind, Proteus answered, [SAM has shown us how to join our population in veemeld. We no longer need SAM.]

  Julie flinched out of veemeld with a gasp and jerked back, nearly losing her balance. Her stomach clenched as the chirping sounds returned. Proteus was still there, inside her. It didn’t need SAM after all. She hadn’t changed anything. She’d killed her best friend for nothing! She balled her hands into fists. “No!” She smashed her fist against the control pad. “No! No! No!” she shouted until her throat was raw and continued to pound. Zane’s uncanny words to her when he tried to convince her to kill SAM scudded in. They’d appeared ridiculous at the time. Now they sounded prophetic, his allusions to Proteus resonating at a microscopic level with her and its surroundings in silent and insidious communication.

  She sank to the ground, exhausted, as a realization struck her, hard. How naïve she’d been! They didn’t care about SAM’s link to Proteus. No one, except Zane, considered Proteus a problem. Their concern was the A.I. pests taking over Icaria especially SAM, their ringleader. He’d gotten out of hand, become unruly. She’d listened to Zane’s equivocal arguments like a child seeking revenge, a jilted lover prying Proteus and SAM apart. It was possible that Zane was genuinely convinced in his false argument, but it was equally possible that he was acting on another’s orders. Zane did what was good for Zane.

  She had no idea how long she lay there as disgrace and betrayal raged through her like a plague. Then, slowly, she pushed herself up off the floor and turned away from the console.

  Frank stood five meters from her with several Pols behind him. A humorless smile twisted on his face. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

  She flinched. Couldn’t he see how much it hurt her? Was he still that callus about people’s feelings? She straightened and pulled her shoulders back, forcing a glacial calm. “I’ve carried out my end of the bargain,” she said in a surprisingly unfaltering voice. “Now it’s your turn.”

  His smile twisted into something else. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “What?” She blinked.

  “It was never our intention to let you go.” He shrugged at her stunned face. “Face it, Julie, you’re too valuable.”

  “But you...promised...” she trailed. “You gave me your word.”

  “I lied.”

  “No,” she murmured, glancing down at the battered hands that had done so much damage for nothing. “No, no, it can’t be like this...”

  She hardly heard him as he barked a command to his men. Two Pols moved forward to restrain her. “Let’s go, Julie,” Frank urged her with a sigh.

  She twitched out of their reach and backed into the console, glaring at Frank. “I won’t co-operate,” she snarled. “I refuse to help you. You’ve broken your word.”

  He shook his head at her. “You’re still so naïve after all this.” He tipped his head to one side and sneered. “But if that’s the way you want it, then perhaps we’ll find someone who will co-operate. I hear you have a daughter with your capabilities. Her name’s Angel, isn’t it? Perhaps we can persuade her to—”

  Something snapped inside her—a kind of rage she hadn’t felt since...“NO!” Julie threw herself at him, arms lashing out and hands hooking like raptor’s talons to gouge his face—and came to an abrupt halt as the two Pols slammed against her and lashed their arms across her chest and neck. She struggled fiercely against their strong hold and screamed, “Leave my daughter alone!”

  Wide-eyed, Frank recoiled from her sudden fury, then grimaced as if in pain—he’d been at the receiving end of her rage once before and knew he was lucky to be alive.

  She let her anger drain beneath a surging anguish. She felt it strangling her as tears pushed out and she buckled under the Pols stronghold, arms falling to their sides. Her voice shook, “Please, leave her out of this. Please, Frank, for all that’s good in this world. Please “

  She kept her eyes fixed on him as the Pols dragged her away. He stood still, face stiff and squinting, as if watching her hurt his eyes.

  28

  “Please put it on,” Carl pleaded, urging Angel to accept the vee-set in his outstretched hand. Seated in Carl’s lab chair, Angel glowered silently. “Just this one more test, Angel,” he persisted. She’d spent several hours stewing over Gaia’s lies as she’d recovered from her vomiting bout in her room, only to eventually be summoned here.

  The door to the lab slid open and Gaia swept into the room, resplendent in a luminous red and gold robe. Her impeccable dress, immaculately coifed hair and porcelain face now repulsed Angel—especially the perfect face. Angel yearned for the comfort of her mother’s beautifully flawed face.

  “I trust she’s feeling better.” It was not a question so much as an edict. Carl stepped aside to let Gaia get closer. “Well, my little kitten. How are you feeling?” Gaia leaned toward Angel in a syrupy show of concern, but remained just out of vomit-range.

  “I’m not your kitten. And you’re not my mother!” Angel shrieked and shrank back. “I already have a mother. You lied to me! You had her the whole time and I want to see her now!”

  “Your mother?” Gaia said, her tone suddenly jeering. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You don’t know what you want.”

  “Well, I sure as Earth know it isn’t you!” Angel spat out.

  Gaia whipped her head around, hair flying out madly. She advanced on Angel, her face tight with suppressed anger. “And your mother’s better? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Angel instinctively recoiled in her chair and stiffened as she recalled what her mother had supposedly agreed to do. Then she straightened and pushed out her jaw. “My mother isn’t like you. You don’t care about anyone except yourself. My mother’s noble, gentle and kind and—”

  “A cold-hearted murderer,” Gaia said coolly.

  Angel stared, her anger suddenly draining beneath a rising anxiety. But she hadn’t killed Sam yet, had she?

  A leer settled on her face. “Why do you think everyone knows Julie Crane?”

  Alarm spiked in her tightening chest. Angel swallowed hard and glanced at Carl who stood with a pained expression on his gentle face. She’d looked to him for support but found none there. She forced her wavering voice to speak with a confidence she was far from feeling, “My father told me. My mother discovered a cure for a disease that was destroying Icaria.”

  Gaia barked a sharp laugh. “After she caused it herself.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “Ask Carl, here.” Gaia flicked a hand in his direction. “He doesn’t lie.”

  Angel swung her gaze to Carl. He looked in pain but his eyes did not disagree with what Gaia was saying.

  “Your mother was infected with the disease when she was five years old,” Gaia went on. “When she realized that she had the disease, instead of turning herself in to the CDC, she ran around and proceeded to infect so many people with Darwin that it turned into an epidemic.”

  Angel turned to Carl,
her eyes pleading for him to tell her this wasn’t so. He frowned but avoided her eyes. “No. That’s not true,” she said in a shrill voice. “She’d never do that. My mother’s not like that.”

  Gaia laughed darkly. “Check the databases on the vee-com in your room. They called her Prometheus. Look up the file. It’s all there.” She leaned in to Angel, taunting her, letting the anxiety in Angel’s belly eat away at her. “When you do,” Gaia continued, “I’m afraid you’ll find that there’s much more to her awful history in Icaria, Angel. She owns quite a dark past.” She folded her arms across her chest and challenged Angel with a long searching look. “Did she ever tell you why she had to leave Icaria?”

  Angel pushed out her lips in an unconscious pout then shook her head. Her parent’s trek out of Icaria into the heath was shrouded in mystery. Even Aard had hinted that it was not something to speak lightly of and left it at that. Her mother had refused to tell her anything about Icaria or why they’d left and her father had remained silent, too, Out of respect, Angel had assumed. Had it been out of shame, instead? Angel’s resolve about her mother began sliding into an abyss, with terror creeping in to take its place.

  “I didn’t think so.” Gaia nodded. “She had good reason to keep it from you, Angel.” She pursed her lips for a moment. “Did you ever wonder why your mother was so good at self-defense and general sleuthing with a dead-accurate shot?”

  Angel swallowed several times, but her mouth had gone dry. “Aard trained her,” she whispered in a faltering voice.

  “She was already trained.” Gaia paused for effect. “And speaking of Aard, whatever happened to him?” Gaia arched a brow. Angel blinked and saw spots in front of her eyes. She fiercely fought to keep from fainting. Gaia watched her intently, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Angel, you already know. Search your heart and you’ll find the evidence: your mother killed him—”