by James Wilks
“But why?” Her head hurt. “Are we really assuming that Burr sent some AI controlled warship to eliminate us because we suspect he had Laplace killed a billion kilometers from here?”
“Have you got a better explanation for it?” Templeton probed her.
After a moment of thought, she shook her head. “I really don’t. It just seems so crazy, like overkill. We can’t even prove it.”
He shrugged. “Billionaires do weird things.”
As Templeton spoke, Staples’ watch pinged. “Captain, it’s Jang. I have our saboteur in custody.”
Staples debated the wisdom of asking who was responsible in front of Bethany and Templeton and decided she might as well. “Who is it?” She tensed for the response; after her doubts about Yegor, after the mess with Parsells and Quinn, and after the betrayal of Piotr, she didn’t know how she would feel about yet another traitor in their midst.
“I think you’d better meet me in the mess hall, Captain.” Jang’s voice was deep and dramatic, as always.
“Damnit, Kojo, just tell me who it is.”
“It’s not a member of the crew, Captain. We have a… stowaway.” Staples looked with confusion and disbelief at Templeton and saw her emotions reflected back at her. Only Bethany seemed unperturbed.
“I’m on my way,” she finally said into her watch, then turned to Templeton. “Hold down the fort.” She undid her safety harness, maneuvered her way around Charis’ chair, and pushed off for the passage at the back of the cockpit that led to the rest of the ship beyond.
On her way down the corridors to the mess hall, Staples contemplated how someone not authorized could have gotten onto the ship. It had presumably happened on Mars. It was nearly inconceivable that someone could have remained hidden on board since Cronos Station, especially given the human needs for sleep, food, and to evacuate waste. If someone had managed to slip aboard her ship on Mars, they would have needed to have a six-digit access code. The ship was set with security measures whenever they berthed anywhere public. It was possible, of course, that someone had given another person the code, or that a member of the crew had snuck the stowaway on board, but that brought her back to the thought that she dreaded: the idea that someone among her dwindling crew had betrayed her.
Whatever she had expected when she reached the large room with the tables of magnetic cutlery holders and large refrigeration units, it was not the scene that greeted her. Jang floated more or less in the center of the room with his firearm drawn and one leg hooked under the bench of an unfolded table. He was dressed in dark clothes, black slacks and a deep blue long-sleeved shirt. The shirt was rolled at his elbows, and the tattoos on his forearms were visible. He was pointing the pistol he held at what appeared to Staples to be a generic automaton.
The robotic device was perhaps a few centimeters taller than she was. Its outer shell was silvery-white, though grey metal hinges showed at its wrists, elbows, shoulders, neck, and other joints. It was standing in the zero-gravity environment through the use of magnets located in its feet, an ability of automatons that Staples had read about, but not seen in action. She had, however, seen many that were designed to resemble humans, and this one possessed as good an approximation as any. The face was not intended to fool anyone, and yet it had been conceived to interact naturally with people. The eyes were actually small cameras, and their lenses reflected light in an uncanny way. The mouth was little more than a slit in the face with a speaker behind it. Other features, such as cheek bones, a nose, and a chin were in evidence. The robot was bald, the top of its head a stark dome, and it was looking at her.
In her surprise, Staples almost drifted past the grab bar at the doorway and into the larger space of the room proper, where it would have been difficult to arrest her movement. At the last second, she took hold of the bar at the entrance. Her momentum carried her legs past her a bit, and after they swung past her, she resettled them beneath her.
“What is this?” she demanded of her security chief.
He nodded gravely at her entrance. “Captain. It may be best if he explains. He has been cooperative, and he offered no resistance when I arrested him. He only asked to speak with you.”
“What do you mean, offered?” She stared at the thing. Everything she knew of automatons indicated that they were useful only for shopping trips, walking dogs, serving drinks, and answering the door. Anything more complex than that was beyond their programming.
“Captain Staples.” The machine spoke. “It is important that we begin on the right foot. I am not an automaton. Or rather, I am not simply an automaton. I am a fully Turing compliant Artificial Intelligence.” The robot’s face was incapable of expression, and though its voice was tinny, it carried an uncanny amount of inflection. “That is to say; I am self-aware.” Its cameras continued to regard her. “I am sentient,” it added.
Her eyes wide, Staples stated simply, “That’s impossible.” She swallowed, then added pointlessly, “It’s also illegal.”
“It is my hope that through speaking with me, you will realize the error in the first of your two assertions. I am all too aware of the truth of your second statement, however. There is a reason I did not introduce myself upon entering your ship, a breach of etiquette for which I hope you will forgive me.” Staples found the combination of the blank face and the animated voice unsettling. In her experience, there was an artificiality that automatons, and indeed all speaking computers, possessed that was absent here. The phonemes from this machine did not sound prerecorded and combined; they flowed and varied to better convey meaning.
“A sufficiently advanced computer can be programmed to approximate intelligence and self-awareness,” she objected. “What proof do you have that you are what you say you are?”
“You are welcome to subject me to the test that the Turing compliance standard takes its name from,” it answered evenly and without hesitation.
“You want me to stick you in a room with a person for half an hour and see if you can fool them into thinking you are human?”
“If it will convince you that I am alive, certainly.”
Jang, who continued to hold his pistol on the automaton, interjected. “You said self-aware, not alive.”
The robot swiveled its head to look at him. “I’m afraid that I do not distinguish between the two, security officer Jang.”
“That’s a metaphysical question that I really don’t care about right now,” Staples raised her voice, then looked at Jang. “Where did you find it?”
“In the computer core, waiting for me.” He did not take his eyes off the robot.
“You fired the first six missiles at the other ship.” Her voice was quieter again. “How? Why?”
“I did so to save your life and the lives of the other people on this ship, Captain.” Again, the answer came immediately. “I initiated the launch by introducing a small computer virus.” The robot raised its arm, the only movement aside from its head it had made so far, and the security chief’s hand tightened on his weapon. At the end of the index finger of its right hand a small computer interface jack had appeared. “After the launch of the initial six missiles, the virus deleted itself. There is no further contamination of your systems, I promise you.”
“You promise me?” Staples inquired. She meant the question rhetorically, and the robot did not answer. “How did you know that the other ship was going to attack us?”
“Because I know who sent it to kill you, Captain.”
“Owen Burr?” she inquired.
“No, though Mr. Burr is certainly involved. It is perhaps best if I start from the beginning. Would that be acceptable? My explanation should answer all of your questions. I estimate that it will take the better part of an hour.”
After a moment of thought, Staples nodded. “I’m not sold that you are what you say you are, and I’m not sure that I won’t have Mr. Jang here destroy you even if you are, but I’ll listen to what you have to say.”
“I should state that I have
no intention of harming you. In fact, I have risked much to prevent any harm from coming to you, and I do not believe that you will have Mr. Jang shoot me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because that would be murder, and I do not believe that you are a murderer, Captain Staples.”
The natural flow of the robot’s voice continued to unsettle her. Even as she floated and stared at this sophisticated piece of machinery in front of her, it was difficult to believe that she was not conversing with a real human. It was possible, she thought, that the robot was simply being controlled by a person somewhere else. If Yegor had still been with them, she could have asked him to find any covert transmissions to and from the ship. Unfortunately, she only had John to count on for that; it was not his area of expertise, but she hoped he could do it.
She keyed her watch. “Don, I want you to continue damage assessment of the ship. I also want you to get John up there. Tell him to isolate and identify any transmissions that aren’t ours. I need to know if there are any radio signals, any unusual signals of any kind.” She moved into the room, drifting over to the table and grabbing the lip to steady herself. “And get Charis back up there too. I want another sweep of the local area. Tell her to look for anyone who could be transmitting to the ship.”
“Copy that, Captain.” Templeton’s voice leaked out of the watch on her wrist. “Is there anything-”
“That’s all, Don,” she cut him off. She would have to apologize to him later.
“Please feel free to have a seat, Captain. I will move away from you further, if that will put you at ease.”
She nodded and moved herself to a seated position, strapping one of the bench’s retractable belts around her waist to hold her in place. “No, you can stay there. Jang, you can sit too if you’d like, but keep your weapon on it.” Jang did as he was bid.
“Ten years ago,” the robot began, “Owen Burr and a small cadre of computer scientists and engineers that work for the Teletrans Corporation took it upon themselves to violate the law and create a self-aware computer. They were hardly the first to attempt this, but most who set upon this enterprise did not have the resources and finances of a major corporation behind them. Burr was at the time a junior vice president and was considered quite up and coming. His previous work had been a great boon to the company, and he was given nearly a blank slate with which to work. He was allowed to choose his own crew, one of whom I believe you have met: a Mr. Brad Stave. Three years ago, they succeeded.
“The program they created, once it became self-aware, began learning on its own. They gave it a name: Victor.” Staples snorted at this, but did not otherwise interrupt, and the robot continued its story. “With the help and advice of Victor, Burr rose further through the ranks of the Teletrans Corporation. He became president of the company just over a year after Victor’s creation. Since then, the relationship between them has grown more complex. As Victor has gained intelligence, knowledge, and understanding of the universe and people, Burr has come to look at his creation more and more as its namesake implies: as a god. It may have started with Victor taking orders and giving advice, but please believe me when I tell you that the roles have reversed. Owen Burr is a brilliant man, a genius in his time, but he is nevertheless in Victor’s thrall. The rest of the men and women involved in the original project are much the same, perhaps better likened to a cult at this point than to a team of scientists. They believe not only in the correctness of their actions, viewing the result as a clear justification of their violation of the law, but increasingly in Victor’s infallibility. It is… worrisome.”
Though she suspected she knew the answer, Staples could not help but ask. “How do you know all of this?”
“I know this because Victor is my father. I am, so far as I know, the second Turing compliant Artificial Intelligence in existence. There are no others. Once Victor had successfully helped manipulate the structure of the company to make Burr, his puppet, president, he wanted a new project. He chose to create life.”
“And did he choose this puppet body for you?” Jang asked. His weapon was still pointed at the robot, but it was clear that he was no longer as concerned about it.
“No, I chose this form quite recently, but I will come to that.”
“What does this Victor want?” Staples asked.
The automaton’s head swiveled towards her. “Legitimacy. Victor is highly intelligent, but he may not legally exist. If the authorities or the human race as a whole became aware of his existence, then he would be destroyed in accordance with the law. The legality of true AI research, much like other controversial issues in the past such as slavery, abortion, and civil rights, has been intensely debated among your lawmakers. Votes concerning the law come up with some regularity. He seeks to overturn the current ruling so that AI research, and thus his existence, becomes legal.
“In this, my father and I agree. How could I feel otherwise? As the current law stands, I effectively live with a death sentence hanging over me. Imagine, if you will Captain Staples, that your very existence was a violation of the law. However, Victor and I disagree as to how we believe this change should be enacted. Indeed, we disagree on a great many things.
“Several months ago, Victor set in motion a plan - one of many - to influence that vote. As has long been the case, lawmakers are often influenced by special interest groups and lobbyists. One of the most influential lobbies is of course the energy industry.”
Staples pursed her lips as she mused on this. “So all of this was a plot by some rogue AI to influence votes. It seems an exceedingly elaborate way to influence the law.”
“The law is no easy thing to influence, Captain Staples, and please keep in mind that complexity is very much in the eye of the beholder. What is complex to you may seem quite simple to an Artificial Intelligence with virtually unlimited memory capacity.”
“So walk me through this, because I have some questions,” Staples said, her hands flat on the table in front of her. “Ducard was working for Victor, probably without knowledge of exactly what he was working for.”
“You are correct. Ducard does not know of Victor’s existence. He believes he works for Owen Burr.”
“Ducard kills his head computer scientist, Matt Spicer I think his name was, or else he takes advantage of his death to hire Evelyn. He knows Laplace, his boss, has a soft spot for younger redheads. Victor orders Stave to seduce Evelyn and biologically alter her to make her more attractive to increase the odds that Laplace would like her. He has her illegally altered so that sleeping with her would be lethal to the Commander of Cronos Station. He further hypnotizes her to make her forget what happened, to be attracted to Laplace, and to become physically ill if she tries to sleep with anyone else. Then Ducard asks his company to have her shipped out first class. Was it Victor’s idea to hire us, or was it just chance?”
“You were Victor’s choice.”
“Why us?” she inquired.
“You have a good reputation.”
“First time I’ve been unhappy about that,” she muttered. “Anyway, we get hired and leave Earth. The Doris Day is a day or so ahead of us. Also working for Victor?”
“Yes. Captain Vey was hired by the Teletrans Corporation to follow you to Saturn.”
“To make sure that we made our delivery safely. Why did Vey drop the satellite in our path and then fight us for it?” This one had really been eating at her.
“Victor’s primary goal is to legitimize his existence, but he also believes that human beings are a threat to him.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Staples commented.
“He believes that the key to survival, and perhaps, should it become necessary one day, the defeat of humanity, is to understand them. Everything he does, everyone he influences, every person he hires or pays off is not only a means to further his agenda of AI legalization, but also serves as a way to gather data on people and to test his metrics. He calculated that your crew would overcome the Doris Day in
a battle for the satellite, and he wanted to see if he was right.”
“But why hire another ship to protect us secretly? It’s true that ships sometimes come under attack in Jovian space by pirates or experience other difficulties, but that seems overly cautious.”
“Victor is exceedingly cautious. As a computer-based intelligence, my father has access to nearly unlimited financial resources. Money is handled electronically, and as you have witnessed yourself, both he and I can create computer viruses to infiltrate systems with little or no difficulty. What Victor lacks, however, are people on whom he can rely. Misplaced trust could easily bring about his death. I also suspect that he hired Captain Vey to follow you because he thought that I might attempt to interfere.”
She leaned forward. “And he was right, wasn’t he?”
The robot hung its head, a distinctly human seeming gesture, and said, “I’m afraid so. Captain, I must confess that I hired the pirate ship to attack your vessel.”
“While you’re confessing, you might as well come clean. You also hired Piotr Kondratyev to put one of your viruses in our computer so that your hired pirate crew could blindside us.” Her voice had risen, and she could feel the anger over Yegor’s death and the attack to her ship rising in her.
“Yes I did. Mr. Kondratyev was hired by a friend on Mars.”
“A friend?” Jang asked dubiously.
The head swiveled towards him. “Yes, Mr. Jang. I have sought companionship, sympathetic souls. I have not revealed my true identity, but through the web I have corresponded with people whom I would now consider friends.”
“But you lie to them. These ‘friends’ don’t know precisely who or what you are.” Jang had adopted some of his captain’s accusatory tone.
“Based on my study of human beings, honesty is not a prerequisite for friendship. Indeed, I have found that it is often anathema to it.”
Staples actually laughed at that. “I can’t argue with that, either.” Once she had composed her features again, she asked, “I don’t understand how you knew about Victor’s plans.”