Weaponized Human (Robot Geneticists Book 3)

by J. S. Morin

  NON-COMPLIANCE

  John31 sent an official notification that Eve and the Human Protection Agency were in non-compliance with Investigative Ethics Committee guidelines on the handling of evidence and the reporting of ethics violations.

  As the pieces fit together, Eve had to push up her goggles to wipe away tears. She couldn’t see the words in the interface through the blur.

  Eve didn’t want to pull the goggles back down to read any more. The clues had piled up. Even though no one wanted to put it out in plain language, Plato had been caught falsifying evidence. The fact that Eve hadn’t been sedated and whisked away to a cell hinted that Plato had covered up her role in the affair.

  Though Eve didn’t want to see any more, she had to know. When she pulled her goggles back down, however, there was a new message waiting. It was from Zeus.

  GOALS AND OBJECTIVES FOR THE RE-IMAGINED HUMAN WELFARE COMMITTEE

  “What?” Eve exclaimed aloud. “They made Zeus chairman?”

  Eve bit the inside of her cheek. That wasn’t fair. Plato wasn’t as intellectually gifted as Eve and her sisters. If anything, Zeus was less clever and cunning than Plato, just more bland. This was less about Zeus’s qualifications for the position than Eve’s failure to keep Plato in check.

  But why not Phoebe?

  Eve’s fuzzy memories of last night answered her better than any committee vote could have. Images of Phoebe dancing along with the soundtrack of Footloose with a half-empty wineglass in hand didn’t fit with the portrait of a staid and reflective advocate for humanity’s best interests.

  Eve slumped down on the padded bench seat in the Cloth-o-Matic room. He legs had just about enough of today, they told her. Back to bed, her swollen eyes suggested. Maybe tomorrow will be better, her aching heart pleaded.

  She had been given a unique opportunity to guide mankind into the Second Human Era. She had squandered it.

  When the Cloth-o-Matic dinged, Eve barely registered it. Face buried in her hands, she sobbed.

  Her goggles dangled from her back by their fiber cables.

  All Eve wanted to be just then was human. And all a human needed was someone to talk to.

  Fumbling for the goggles on her back, Eve sniffled and held back her tears long enough to beg Phoebe to come over as soon as she could.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Radio silence had seemed the best policy. After all, there was nothing Charlie7 could do that would unsend all the committee messages or retract the news feed stories about the shakeup at the Human Welfare Committee.

  But when he arrived at Eve Fourteen’s house, Charlie7 wished that maybe he’d put a sliver of effort into checking on her emotional state before entering.

  The breakfast nook in Eve’s kitchen overlooked the flower garden at the near end of the terrace. Bathed in natural light from the morning sun streaming down through the latticed bay window, a cozy round table was set with coffee for an army but only two cups.

  Phoebe and Eve sat side by side, ninety degrees apart, both dressed in fuzzy pink bathrobes and slippers. If it weren’t for the hairstyles, it would have been difficult to tell them apart.

  “Hi Charlie,” Eve said glumly. “Thanks for not voting against me.”

  “You should eat something,” Charlie7 cautioned. “All that caffeine isn’t healthy on an empty stomach.”

  “She’s thrown up twice trying,” Phoebe said matter-of-factly. “I’m starting to get the feeling that the cleaning drones might be sapient. I’m pretty sure it glared at Eve the second time.”

  “Tell me you have good news,” Eve said, taking a sip from her coffee. “Like yesterday and all the messages were a nightmare.”

  “You get nightmares?” Phoebe asked, leaning around to look up into Eve’s limp face. “Creator—I mean Evelyn11—never let me have them. I slept hooked up to a scanner for years, shocking me awake whenever one started.”

  Charlie7 didn’t want to hear any more of that story. Reading it in Evelyn11’s research had been bad enough. “I have news. How good it is depends on how we react.”

  “I’m willing to have reactions,” Eve said with a sigh. “Anything has to be better than how I feel right now.”

  Phoebe offered Charlie7 an apologetic smile on Eve’s behalf. “She thinks her whole world had come crashing down around her.”

  “It hasn’t,” Charlie7 insisted. “I imagine by now that you’ve heard about Zeus taking over chairmanship of the Human Welfare Committee.”

  Eve grunted.

  “We heard,” Phoebe translated.

  “Well, it makes sense that a human chair the committee, right?” Charlie7 asked.

  “I don’t see that it’s an operational necessity,” Eve said. “But it had a certain thematic element that seemed appropriate. Jeffersonian ideals of self-governance. Archaic, but still applicable, it would seem.”

  “What if I told you that Zeus wasn’t human?”

  “Ooh!” Phoebe exclaimed. “Is he a robotic puppet sent by the upload conspiracy to infiltrate our ranks and sow dissent?”

  Charlie7 paused, rebooting both his audio and video receptors to make sure there wasn’t an input error. “Um. Yes. That actually described the situation accurately, if a little melodramatically.”

  Eve winced as she shook her head. “Just a robotic brain. Can’t fault him for what Charlie24—or 25, or whoever—did to him.”

  “That might have been the case at some point. But what if that wasn’t a human consciousness in a robotic brain? What if it was a robot who’d uploaded to a crystalline matrix designed to interface with human biology?”

  He waited for the implications to sink in.

  “Whoa,” Phoebe said.

  “Implausible and convoluted,” Eve said.

  “Any more convoluted than Gemini’s story?” Charlie7 challenged. This wasn’t a bone he was willing to let go now that he had his teeth in it. And robots having a hold of bones was just what this was about.

  “If Zeus isn’t a human, who is he?” Eve asked.

  Charlie7 grinned, showing off stainless steel teeth. “That’s a wonderful question, now, isn’t it?”

  “Technically, you didn’t answer her question,” Phoebe pointed out.

  There were times when it was a simple matter to set Eve above her sisters. But she was older by two years, and they hadn’t been idle years under Evelyn11’s brutal educational program. Phoebe held all the same potential but often chose different outlets to express it. Presented with a rhetorical knot, she cut right through it.

  “I have my theories,” Charlie7 said. “But my two leading candidates are Charlie24 and Charlie25.”

  Phoebe bolted upright, spilling her coffee across the table. “No way! Plato killed Charlie24; that was his Creator. And they found Charlie25 and Evelyn11 dead together in Kanto.”

  Eve had reacted to the flood of coffee simply by lifting her cup out of the path and turning sideways in her seat to avoid the caffeinated waterfall. “Plato thinks he killed Charlie24,” Eve said. “But I thought I killed Evelyn11 the first time. Maybe both are still alive. Charlie25 could have downloaded himself. Or Charlie24 could have hidden away in Zeus’s body all along.”

  Then again, there were reasons Eve was ahead of her sisters in the eyes of all the robots.

  “Yes,” Charlie7 confirmed. “That’s my thinking.”

  “What makes you suspect those two and not, like, another Evelyn11?” Phoebe asked.

  Charlie7 shrugged. “It takes a Charlie to know one.”

  “So what do we do about this?” Eve asked. “Do you have actionable evidence that’ll pass muster with the Investigative Ethics Committee?”

  Charlie7 brushed aside that notion. “Who cares about those stuffy lawyers? They’re as close as we come in this world to the old judicial system. Innocence and guilt are secondary to them. Connect the right dots, an innocent robot gets exiled off world or a guilty one gets to live out his life in a stolen chassis.”

  “Answer the other question
please,” Eve grumbled.

  “Don’t mind her,” Phoebe said. “She doesn’t drink enough wine for how much she had last night.”

  Charlie7 would have liked to remember a hangover. But Charles Truman had been deathly afraid of losing cognitive function, even voluntarily and in short bursts. For all that he could usually hear of his own humanity in Eve and the others, this was one sensation that was truly alien to him.

  “I have a plan,” Charlie7 said. He had two plans, in fact, but compartmentalized knowledge was one of his specialties. “I’m going to need one of you to volunteer for a secret mission.”

  Eve focused her eyes on Charlie with visible effort. Phoebe’s lit with excitement.

  “Here’s what I’m going to need you to do…”

  Chapter Fifty

  Zeus’s house was under renovation already. What had started out as an unassuming cottage in what had once been Dublin was being upgraded in every respect. In a week’s time, it would be a palatial home, befitting someone of his station.

  Not that Chairman of the Human Welfare Committee was anything worthy of medals and marching bands. In the grand scheme, it was a mere advisory panel on the treatment of pre-upload bodies.

  It might take years or even decades to hem in the expectations of the new human contingent and allow for the raising of docile, dumb creatures who gave their animalistic lives to those more worthy. All it took was divorcing the potential of humanity from the flesh. Evelyn11 had tried and failed to make that separation, and it had resulted in a series of endearingly robotic young women.

  But mass-produced, adjusted to user specification, and unaware of their existence, human bodies would be nothing like the Eves.

  Zeus kicked his feet up on his office desk. The symphony of construction played all around him as automatons added walls and poured foundations. With idle time on his hands, he took a moment to study those hands.

  So human. So lifelike. If only he’d been able to wait and make the transition to a fully organic body. There were experiences he wished to relive and ones he wished to improve upon from his biological days.

  His memories of Charles Truman’s life were spotty and occasionally intermixed with flashes of Jason Sanborn or, more rarely, Dale Chalmers. But as best he could recall, Dr. Truman had been a fiery, driven man with time for occasional passion but never anything so all-consuming as love.

  In his entire existence, that was Charlie25’s greatest regret. He had passed beyond love’s fierce passion into the cold void of synthesized robotic emotion. Soon, he would have a chance to go back.

  This body wasn’t perfect, but it gave tantalizing hints of what was to come. Old sensations triggered reflexive emotional responses. How much deeper would those go once he had the neurochemistry to match? He hated admitting to anyone how much he longed for more.

  “Not soon enough,” he muttered to the ceiling.

  What could he do, though? Plans were crawling along behind the scenes. The upload technology, carefully rolled out to receptive candidates, would seed and undermine the nascent human society. Robots would replace natural human psyches, and their experience and wisdom would overwhelm the naive and ignorant young humans.

  Just like he’d outmaneuvered Eve.

  For all her intellect, Eve was indeed ignorant. Given a robotic lifetime, she’d learn every trick and understand every nuance of a world run by committee. Until then, she was a rag doll in a dog’s jaw.

  Zeus itched for action. Even without the neurobiology to back it up, this body of his yearned for motion. The joints stiffened. The cardiovascular system grew lazy.

  Hopping to his feet, Zeus began composing an edict.

  It wasn’t physical action—pacing would have to do for now—but it was some tangible step toward becoming fully human.

  Per Chairman Zeus of the Human Welfare Committee:

  As recent events have shown, the Human Protection Agency (HPA) has proven to be ineffective at its chartered task. Had it merely been unsuccessful, its continued sanction by this committee could be justified as a useful allocation of otherwise non-functional assets, at worst in a prophylactic sense. Its members were a retiree and two humans, none of whom engaged in productive activity beforehand. However, with one agent incarcerated and myself now in a supervisory capacity, it is time to reevaluate.

  The HPA has, through a combination of negligence, poor communication, and lack of training, become a hazard in its own right. It is my intention to engage in joint meetings with the Privacy and Surveillance Oversight Committee and the Investigative Ethics Committee to formulate a new charter, with a strict emphasis on agent selection and training.

  Until such time as a new charter is ratified and a new crop of agents is ready for fieldwork, I regret that I must halt all operations of the HPA. Open investigations will be suspended and no new ones begun. Agents of the HPA, if not otherwise occupied by outside commitment, are free to pursue other opportunities.

  The Human Welfare Committee will not, as it has in the past, retroactively condone the actions of rogue individuals who claim to act with human welfare in mind but without consulting with the committee before taking action.

  Let this be the first step in the safer, more cooperative existence between humans and robots.

  Zeus took a deep breath, quickly reviewed what he’d written, and sent it off to the news feeds as an official press release.

  Strolling over to his office window, he watched a crane hoist a structural steel beam overhead. It disappeared from view outside, and seconds later the floor shook gently as it settled into place.

  “Progress,” he said softly to himself. “The cream will always rise.”

  How could a robot not have every advantage over a human?

  Still, he felt cooped up. There was little for Zeus to do and everything he could do.

  A message notification popped up. There had been several within seconds of his news item going out on the feeds, but nothing he’d bothered with. This one was different.

  It was from Phoebe:

  Hi Zeus!

  Congratulations on your promotion! I know Eve’s upset right now, but I think she’s going to be SO MUCH LESS STRESSED once she realizes that the whole fate of humanity doesn’t rest in her hands! THANK YOU!!! Eve’s cortisol levels have been WAY down since yesterday!

  Anyhoo, I was hoping that maybe we could celebrate?! You’ve always been traveling so much, and there aren’t TONS of humans, you know, so I was hoping that this would be a good time for social engagement between two healthy homo sapiens!

  I was thinking a beach, some wine, a picnic, music, maybe a sport game! Oh, and some voluntary mutual operant conditioning!!!

  Let me know soon!!!!!

  Phoebe

  There was an image attached to the message. It was a chemical diagram of a dopamine molecule—digitally modified to look like a smiley face.

  Phoebe was, without a doubt, the most outgoing of the Madison Maxwell-Chang clones. Eve was more stoic and cerebral, seeking approval from robots. But Phoebe wanted approval from her fellow humans—and apparently Zeus in particular. Her vague hints of attraction had been amusingly misplaced in that regard.

  But why not?

  Overplaying his hand with the Human Welfare Committee would only arouse suspicion. Shutting down the HPA for an inquiry and re-chartering was enough work for a week. Spending time with Phoebe would allay suspicions that he had motives beyond the well-being of his fellow humans.

  “Acceptable,” Zeus sent back. “Designate a time and location.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Phoebe had never worn a bikini before. It was similar to underwear in style but not as inconspicuous. According to all the archival research she could gather, its main purpose was to subdue the higher cognitive functions of male humans while still being suitable for playing in the water.

  Monaco had been a popular beach during the Human Era. The narrow strip of white sand along the waterline wasn’t natural but had been restored an
d maintained by drone labor.

  “I’m so glad you could come,” Phoebe gushed through a toothy grin as Zeus stepped out of his skyroamer. She was holding a cooler more than a meter long in both hands, body tilted back to offset the weight.

  Zeus stepped down to the concrete landing pad as Phoebe shuffled toward the beach lugging twenty-five kilos of supplies for their outing. She was a little disappointed that he hadn’t dressed for the occasion. That was OK though; she’d taken the precaution of entering his measurements into her Cloth-o-Matic and printing him a pair of swimming trunks.

  “So, Monaco, huh?” he said noncommittally as he fell into step beside her. Zeus was quite dapper in his business suit. It hung off him like he didn’t care whether it looked good not—that was the suit’s job. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and gawked at the scenery as they walked.

  “Yup,” Phoebe said, starting to feel the strain of carrying so much gear. Fortunately, it wasn’t a long walk to the sand. “I wanted someplace fancy and exclusive.”

  Zeus chuckled. “Well, 33.3 percent of the human population is here. How exclusive can it be?”

  Phoebe grinned at the mathematical joke. It was hard to believe that a robotic brain lurked behind those pretty eyes of his.

  The day was sunny and warm, with a salty breeze the caressed the overabundance of Phoebe’s exposed skin. The idea of all that exposed skin reminded Phoebe of something.

  “I brought along some UV-reflective skin lotions to prevent squamous cell carcinomas,” Phoebe said.

  Zeus nodded absently, staring out at the waves that were visible from the walking trail down to the beach. “Good idea. Oncology hasn’t even reached pre-invasion sophistication yet.”