Weaponized Human (Robot Geneticists Book 3)

by J. S. Morin

  “Yeah, let’s cut to the meat,” Plato said. “We know you spoke with Olivia here not two weeks ago.”

  “Public knowledge,” Charlie13 replied. “The girls’ movements all make the news feeds. Olivia wanted to understand the work we do here at Kanto and preferred a firsthand interview to generally available documentation.”

  “Wait… Olivia wants to be an upload mixer?” Plato asked. That didn’t fit the profile on Olivia. He didn’t know the younger Eves well—unlike his brothers, Eve’s sisters were all a little too similar for his liking.

  “No,” Charlie13 replied. “With a thorough understanding of the exacting, time-consuming, and rigorous process involved, as well as the repercussions of mistakes, she decided against pursuing an interest in the field. Rather a mature decision.” Charlie13 turned to fix Plato with a blank glare. “Unlike the choice to, for example, cavort around the planet playing secret agents.”

  “We don’t want to delay you unduly, sir,” Zeus cut in. “This is a simple matter of thoroughness. Can you just confirm your most recent contact, communication, or even secondhand knowledge you might have of Olivia’s whereabouts? You aren’t a suspect, of course.”

  “Like hell he’s not,” Plato snapped, slapping the barrel of the EMP rifle into his free hand. “Everyone’s a suspect until cleared.”

  Zeus took Plato by the arm. “I’m really very sorry. Never mind. We won’t bother you any further.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Plato said, wrenching his arm free. That pipsqueak brother of his wasn’t dragging Plato away from the biggest suspect he knew of. “I want access to your communication logs. Root access. I want to check for myself that you haven’t been arranging for your cronies to come grab Olivia.”

  “Plato,” Zeus hissed. “Not him. Don’t. He’s untouchable.”

  Plato shoved Zeus back. “No one is untouchable. Charlie13, by order of the Human Protection Agency, I demand you open a root access link from that terminal I see in your desk. If everything checks out, we’ll be on our way. Otherwise, I’m going to have to take you in as a member of the human upload conspiracy.”

  “Has that Gemini been spreading libel about me?” Charlie13 demanded, though his voice never rose. “No matter. Request denied. Point that toy magnet somewhere else before you damage something important.”

  As he turned back to the data screens, Plato decided he’d had just about enough. He and Zeus were the lawful agents of the Human Protection Committee. There was no way he was letting a major suspect stonewall him or make him route a request through a dozen subcommittees while he hid his tracks.

  Two steps on the way to getting in the robot’s face, Plato’s exoskeleton froze up. The actuators locked up. The whirr of the motor fought against his muscles instead of aiding them. With a startled yelp, Plato toppled to the floor.

  Charlie13’s robotic foot stomped down on the EMP rifle’s power supply, and the skillful placement of the blow sent all the indicator lights to zeroes.

  “Perhaps,” Charlie13 said, looming over Plato’s prone form. “Someone should remember that he has an advanced case of osteoarthritis, and who authorized one of his factory’s inventors to take time away from the next line of drone improvements to build him a device to alleviate the symptoms.”

  Zeus crept over to Plato’s side. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Not until he answers our questions,” Plato protested with a grunt, over the strain of his own exoskeleton fighting to hold him in place.

  With a sudden flail, Plato broke free. The exoskeleton obeyed his commands once again. He scrambled to his feet, taking the busted EMP rifle with him.

  Charlie13 was already headed back to his position in front of the wall of data. “Unfortunately, I don’t intend to share my private data with you. Nor do I suspect that the Human Protection Agency has the resources to circumvent my encryption protocols. However, I will provide you with one small token of information to help in your investigation.”

  “What’s that?” Plato asked.

  “I had nothing to do with Olivia going missing,” Charlie13 said flatly.

  Zeus towed an incredulous Plato toward the door. “Forget it. He’s not a suspect. He’s not even cooperating any more.”

  “And we’re just going to let him get away with firewalling us?” Plato asked, gaping at his partner.

  “He already got away with it. You’re just too dense to realize.”

  On the way back to the skyroamers parked up top, Plato checked the damage to his EMP rifle and wondered which had taken the worse beating: his weapon or his pride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Eve awoke to find a summons among her inbound communications. The Privacy and Surveillance Oversight Committee was formally requesting that she appear before them.

  At first, the tiny, optimistic voice that dwelled within Eve’s mind told her that maybe Arthur19 was going to reconsider the latitude she’d requested for her agents in pursuing the disappearance of Olivia.

  In her limited experience, that voice was rarely right.

  When Eve opened the full text of the communication, her optimism slunk back to the little corner where it hid most of the day.

  “So, Plato’s in trouble with another committee,” Eve muttered to herself. He was as predictable as a lunar orbit, though not on so precise a schedule. This time, there were a host of complaints including one filed by Charlie13.

  Eve had to pull off her data-display goggles to rub her eyes. It was too early for this nonsense.

  After stripping out of her nightclothes and computer gear, Eve took a quick shower. Actually, all her showers were quick. She never liked spending long without access to a data feed.

  Dressed and reconnected to the Earthwide and the Social, she shot a quick acceptance memo to Arthur19 and headed back to the Potomac Bay region to answer for her underlings.

  The trip over was uneventful. Eve used the time to check in on the extent of the firestorm she was flying into.

  Plato and Zeus both made excuses for their methods, even though seventeen of the eighteen complaints had been targeted solely at Plato and the one report that included Zeus was largely focused on Plato’s behavior. It seemed that “find Olivia” had turned into “get someone to admit where they’re keeping Olivia or get an EMP rifle aimed at their head.”

  Charlie7 suggested that Olivia might not be missing so much as wandering. While he couldn’t prove his hypothesis, it sounded nice to Eve’s optimistic side. His text-only updates simply promised that he would continue his investigation and that he knew enough to keep from upsetting the Privacy Committee in the process.

  The last bit, at least, was a welcome change.

  Eve should have been out there. Her duties could all be deferred. Robots would understand. They’d make accommodations.

  But that’s just what Eve didn’t want from them. Robots didn’t treat humans as equals. At least, most of them didn’t. They treated Eve, her sisters, and all the Plato clones as somewhere on the spectrum from child to imbecile.

  Just because Eve didn’t have centuries of experience or a computer wired directly to her brain didn’t mean she was a fool. Just because she needed to eat, sleep, and breathe didn’t make her especially fragile.

  If she kept falling into easy stereotypes, though, that’s how they’d all think of her, even the ones she hoped to sway to a more egalitarian viewpoint.

  The landing field at the Privacy Committee headquarters was packed when Eve arrived. It wasn’t that she was late; it was that everyone who’d heard about the meeting and wanted to attend didn’t have to worry about thrust forces from the skyroamers’ ion engines collapsing a lung. They’d all raced ahead to beat Eve there.

  Once inside the facility, things didn’t look any better for her. As she passed through multiple security measures, Eve found herself wishing she’d brought along Phoebe for moral support or Charlie7 to actually be useful.

  But Phoebe was a worried mess, off on a h
aphazard investigation of her own. What support she might lend was questionable. As for Charlie7, as much as Eve could have used him, Olivia needed him more.

  Inside the Privacy Committee’s main conference room, Eve took a seat at one of the polished, dark-stained wooden tables. It looked like a courtroom from an archival movie. Had she planned ahead, Eve could have watched one on the way to the hearing.

  “Welcome, Eve Fourteen, Chairwoman of the Human Welfare Committee,” Arthur19 announced from the spot where a judge would have sat.

  One difference from the movie courtrooms to the Privacy Committee’s debate chamber was the arrangement of desks. Instead of prosecution and defense, backed by spectators, the desks spread out and ascended like an amphitheater, rising in semi-circles row by row.

  Beneath the desk, Eve’s data goggles worked overtime, expanding her field of view and taking stock of the robots gathered in attendance. Of the scores of robots present, only sixteen were official members of the committee.

  This had the makings of a spectacle.

  Within seconds, audio, video, and transcripts would circle the globe. The signals would transmit into orbit to the freight haulers and mining transfer stations, the geostationary satellites and non-atmospheric shipyards. Mars would hear the news in minutes. Eventually even the miners in the Kupier Belt would know what had gone on here.

  Eve had to weigh her words carefully.

  During the opening statements and committee business, Eve took the time to formulate some notes, points she wanted to hit, and topics that were best avoided.

  When Arthur19 worked his way around to the one topic that concerned Eve, a trigger in her goggles picked up on the keywords and flashed an alert. Eve hastily straightened in her seat.

  “Chairwoman Eve of the Human Welfare Committee, thank you for joining us,” Arthur19 said formally. It didn’t sound from his tone like Eve was any more welcome than the chairs or the gavel on Arthur19’s podium.

  “Thank you, Chairman,” Eve replied, knowing that she was being video recorded. Had this been a private meeting, she’d have waited for him to say something of substance.

  “Chairwoman,” Arthur19 continued. “We met privately just yesterday on the topic of your sister Olivia’s retirement from public life.”

  “She’s missing,” Eve spoke up. “There is no evidence that she left the public eye willingly or with any plan to do so. She may have been kidnapped, gotten lost, been hurt or even killed, and we have no digital or physical trail that leads to her.”

  “Madame Chairwoman,” Arthur19 countered. “The topic of our conversation was the further reduction of the search limitations placed on the newly formed Human Protection Agency, which falls under your committee’s jurisdiction. I did not support such a reduction.”

  “That agrees with my recollection,” Eve replied. There was no point arguing facts with a robot who could plug into a projector and replay the entirety of their interaction for the whole room.

  “And yet…” Arthur19 said, pausing for dramatic effect. Eve wondered why that worked on robots who had to know what he was doing. “I have eighteen reports of intimidation and demands for information by agents of your agency.”

  Dale16 chimed in. “All involving Plato. Let’s not allow that name off the official record.”

  “Duly noted,” Arthur19 responded lazily. Anyone who wanted the list of transgressions had only to reference the agenda the chairman had published prior to the hearing.

  “I’ve read the reports,” Eve admitted grudgingly. “All I can say is that Plato and Zeus exceeded their authority in the course of this investigation, and that they’ll be reminded of the scope of their investigative leeway.”

  “Reminded?” Arthur19 scoffed. “While there are indeed inappropriate jests made from time to time on the Social regarding Plato’s mental faculties, the fact of the matter is that none of your agents is a fool. I think that some form of internal committee discipline is in order, Miss Fourteen. If the Human Welfare Committee can’t keep the Human Protection Agency in line, I may be forced to elevate this to the General Committee Oversight Board.”

  Eve blanched. That was tantamount to demanding her resignation. The General Committee Oversight Board oversaw other committees in one of those recursive logic puzzles where at some level, they were responsible for oversight of themselves. In any case, they had the power to revise the chairmanship of the Human Welfare Committee, whether the members approved or not.

  “Chairman,” Eve said, standing to make her case more fervently. “This is an internal issue for the Human Protection Agency.”

  “Point of order,” Dale16 interrupted. “The head of the Human Protection Agency didn’t respond to his invitation to this hearing. Where is Charlie7, anyway?”

  “Charlie7 is in the heart of the investigation into the whereabouts of Olivia,” Eve said without hesitation. This was one of the lines of inquiry she’d prepared herself for. “Since there was no complaint regarding his actions in the matter, I saw no reason to compel him to attend. His time is best spent in attending to what may very well be a time-sensitive matter.”

  “Madame Chairwoman,” Arthur19 droned. “You took over the newly renamed Human Welfare Committee on the grounds that a human would be best motivated and most supportive of human entry into Earth’s complex and diverse society. However, ‘by humans, for humans’ does not appear, at this time, to be working out as advertised. I, for one, have seen ample evidence that alternative leadership is warranted.”

  Eve’s face warmed. There was no hiding from the scrutiny of every pair of curious robotic eyes in existence. But the worst thing she could do right then was cry or shout denials. Ad hominem attacks against the Privacy Committee chairman would only make things worse.

  She took a text file from her list of bland committee non-speech. “Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Chairman. I believe you have clarified your opinion on the matter and closed further avenues for discussion.”

  With that, Eve stood and took her leave of the proceedings.

  Chapter Sixteen

  If there was one skill Charlie7 knew he possessed beyond the measure of most robots—and humans—it was the ability to multitask. As the head of the Human Protection Agency searched the Earthwide for clues to Olivia’s location, he watched his purported boss take a verbal beating on a live feed from a Privacy Committee hearing.

  “Ouch,” he said aloud to the darkness, wincing as Arthur19 called for Eve’s ouster in the stuffiest manner possible.

  Charlie7 could have been there to help her. There was no way the committee would have run roughshod over her if he was there in person or even connected via uplink.

  But Eve had refused.

  To her credit, the committee chairwoman took the haranguing that Plato—and to a lesser extent, Zeus—had earned her. Charlie7 kept free of that morass in order to continue pursuing his own investigation.

  One of these days, he would have to teach his junior agents skills like tact and circumventing committee edicts without violating them. But that atom had already split, and there was no piecing the nucleus back together. For now, Plato and Zeus would be subject to the time-honored tradition of negative reinforcement.

  If Eve had two firing neurons, she was going to deliver a much harsher punishment when she got those knuckleheads in private. Punishments always gathered momentum as they rolled down the chain of command.

  “No time…” Charlie7 murmured to himself. “No time. Boys will be boys, and heroes will be heroes.”

  If nothing else, whoever might have been out there looking for Olivia might be distracted by the proceedings. Unlike the rest of the Human Welfare Committee and his fellow agents, Charlie7 wasn’t worried at all that Olivia had been kidnapped.

  He worried that she was about to be.

  The barely emancipated human had been doing quite a lot of research of late. Her treks around the globe had brought her into contact with robots from nearly every profession that might hold the interest of a
n ingenious young woman, but she’d ended her tours a week ago.

  Around the same time, Olivia’s interests had shifted. Her use of the Social dried up to the occasional exchange of pleasantries, some of which were brusque to the point of rudeness. Charlie7 could read the frustration into her dismissal of requests upon her time, offers to teach or train her in various fields, and robots simply wanting to share the company of a human for the sake of nostalgia.

  Then the research began.

  Olivia had read up on a vast array of topics all swirling around a central theme that had a gravity all its own. The orbiting topics including subjects such as fire building, climatology, hunting, bow-making, how to fire a bow and arrow, how to build a shelter, tracking, hiking gear, cooking over an open flame, rope-making, and life in the nineteenth century.

  It didn’t take a robotic processor to figure out that Olivia was growing weary of the demands of modern life. It had merely taken a robot with advanced decryption capabilities to read her Earthwide and Social logs.

  Buried among the myriad associated topics—and Olivia was a voracious reader—Charlie7 found numerous geographic queries. Olivia had cross-referenced climate, terrain, and wilderness restoration efforts in an effort to decide on a place to hide out. By her later searches and the refinement of her area of concentration, Charlie7 now had someplace to start looking.

  A smattering of loyalty told Charlie7 that the first thing he should do was to pass this information all along to Eve.

  But Charlie7 was still multitasking.

  He saw Eve, still on live camera, hustling from Privacy Committee headquarters with her head hung and with as much haste as she could manage while hanging onto a shred of dignity.

  Charlie7 drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk. “Can’t do it. Last thing she needs is to get caught up in running around Canada looking for her sister. Time for someone to learn the fine committee art of damage control.”