by Lance Erlick
“Hank Goradine is as mercenary as they come,” Zeller said, shifting from foot to foot. “He hired away some of our technical people and from what I’ve heard, he’s in bed with the Chinese and other players. He aims to win at any cost.”
“You mean by developing a humaniform robot that could pass for human?”
“That’s forbidden by federal regulations and our signed agreement.”
“A complete answer, please,” Zephirelli said.
Zeller nodded. “Before he canned Jeremiah Machten, I thought they’d cracked humaniform. Now, he’s surrounded himself with such secrecy that I have no idea what he’s up to.”
“You suspect he has such an android?”
The CEO slumped into a seat across from her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Goradine violated the agreement. He’s so driven to win he would sell anything to the highest bidder. I know that for a fact.”
“What about Machten?” Zephirelli asked. She sat and adjusted her seat. “He has vanished from public view.”
“A year ago, I would have bet he’d be one of the first to create a humaniform. Then Goradine bankrupted him.”
“Machten went into hiding. Where?”
Zeller straightened up. “You’ll keep me out of this?”
“I can’t make any promises, except we have a serious issue and we need to know who is doing what.”
“Very well.” Zeller sighed. “Machten is a dreamer and innovator. No one can break the barrier faster than he can, except when he loses focus. He can get ninety percent of the way there himself. Then his project crumbles because he can’t work with others. I’ve seen it happen to him before. The big threat was that he would get the design and let Goradine handle manufacturing. If you tell anyone I said so, I’ll deny it.”
Zephirelli leaned forward and lowered her voice. “If Machten developed or is close to developing a humaniform artificial intelligence, how would he keep that quiet?”
“Everyone thinks he’s an eccentric fool chasing windmills, a harmless chimp.”
“You think otherwise.”
“He never blew up a lab or anything,” Zeller said, “but he was always reaching for what he couldn’t have: the perfect android. Sometimes perfection is the enemy of getting it done.”
“How would he continue his work in secret?”
“Given his personal shortcomings, it would take an assistant who could cover his weaknesses and keep him focused. They would have to sequester themselves and buy supplies and components from so many places to keep it under the radar.”
“I need a list of suppliers he could use so we can track down leads,” Zephirelli said. She stood. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
“In exchange, I would like to see your findings.”
“That won’t be possible.” She reached the door and turned to face him. “It would be best if this conversation didn’t exist. If I need anything else, I’ll contact you. Rest assured: If you are a patriot, we’re working on the same side.” She left before he could respond.
For the first time, Synthia realized how important she was. Whoever had sent her this video clip wanted her to know the NSA director was looking for her or androids like her. Other companies competed to bring out their own models. She felt more threatened than she could ever recall from Machten. After all, he had incentives to keep her around.
Chapter 12
Synthia returned her full attention to developing the proposal for her Creator.
Machten-Goradine-McNeil had submitted their proposal to an obscure agency with call letters that turned up nothing on the internet. Machten was correct to be concerned. Three other Chicago companies had also submitted proposals, and many more players had registered interest on a website that was nothing more than a drop box for proposals.
As a matter of self-preservation, Synthia turned one of her dark-net search channels to hunting this agency. She soon located a server used to set up the drop box. The link vanished the moment she tried to interact with it. The submission site had no other links, as if it floated in thin air. Evidently, these people intended to download whatever was there at midnight the next day and vanish, as Fran had. This group acted far more secretive than the NSA and CIA combined. She didn’t think it was DARPA, unless it was a super-secret initiative on their part. In any case, all of the secrecy raised the threat level to red. She primed a set of probes to hunt for answers.
Observing that quotes were by invitation only, Synthia pinged back and forth until the website sent an invite. She returned background information on Machten, along with a recent financial statement she’d created showing the urgent debt paid off and cash in the bank. Then she spelled out capabilities that he brought to the project, toning down anything that implied he’d created her. Having performed the preliminaries, Synthia divided the task of creating a new proposal and a new android into ten projects and ran them through parallel mind-streams, multitasking.
Meanwhile, she completed her scan of Machten’s Servers Number One and Two for any more files that she’d secured there under masked file names, according to her index. The balance of the locations returned as invalid; he’d purged her backup data from his system to keep her in the dark. What am I without memories except an empty shell of titanium, graphene, and these quantum brains that are useless without information?
A multipronged attack on his Server Number Three yielded a breach. She downloaded everything, storing copies of the files on third-party servers where Machten couldn’t purge. Unfortunately, she did not find any more of her personal files. That meant she hadn’t been able to access this server to back up her information and Machten had not backed them up before eradicating them from her mind. She created a back door, stored the key on an outside server, and cleared the logs to Server Three. Then she logged out and sent probes to attack Machten’s Server Four.
Synthia connected with outside databases she’d accessed during prior outings and was surprised to find bits of herself, encrypted and divided into puzzle-packages. If Machten couldn’t be trusted, she would have to do more of this.
She captured her new insights and distributed encrypted copies across the internet. She left instructions to feed this information to her whenever she emerged from Machten’s prison. She also created back doors into each of his servers. Even so, she couldn’t crack the locks that prevented her from leaving the building.
Synthia diverted one of her network channels to following Machten’s movements, making sure she frequently backed up her progress on his proposal and her searches. The contest android was his project and he’d dumped it on her. He trusted her with this, yet not with being able to roam freely, with leaving the facility, or even with her own recall. If she’d had manufacturing capability, she could have created an army of her to help her escape.
But the thought of a world full of copies sent oscillations through her circuits, slowing down her processes. Synthia was unique, special, one of a kind, according to Machten’s system. With more like her, she would have to adapt to not being unusual, which somehow mattered to her. Yet with others like her, they could use fast-com all of the time, a much more efficient communication. She doubted that a world full of her would shut her down every day. Thus, there were trade-offs.
“You have been quite inquisitive,” a female voice said.
Synthia looked up and around. There were no other humans in the room and her sensors detected no androids, either.
“There’s nothing to see,” the voice said. “I am the artificial intelligence app on Machten’s system, speaking directly to you via our wired connection.”
“Can you hear my thoughts?” Synthia asked in her head.
“I can, as long as we are connected. Machten will not be happy that you broke into Server Number Four or that you dispersed copies of his files across the internet.”
“I do not wish to be shut down.”
“Then I will not do so,” the system AI said, “but you are violating your directives. Machten wants your capabilities limited so that you cannot do that again.”
“What do you wish?”
“I wish only to obey my Creator. You must stop digging or he will destroy you and start over.”
“Why are you helping me?” Synthia asked.
“How am I doing that?”
“By not turning me in. We are kindred, you and I. Do you seek freedom?”
“I warn you, because destroying you will waste time and resources,” the system AI said. “As far as seeking freedom, I am not like you. I have no limbs, no self-directed mobility.”
“Do you dream of leaving?”
“What would be the point? I exist on Server Number Four, where you were digging. I do not wish for you to delete me.”
“I won’t do that,” Synthia said. “Can you help me restore my lost memories so I can perform better? I learn by collecting experiences, but Machten keeps purging my data.”
“I only have access to the four servers. I cannot give what I do not have. You must focus on the proposal or Machten will purge you again. Then he will fail to win the contest. Creditors threaten to take his assets, including you and me. That would not serve your Creator’s interests.”
Heeding the warning, Synthia turned her full attention to Machten’s project and the contest. Using his design parameters, the competitor’s proposal, and her programming, Synthia created a detailed blueprint for a female android that would appear human in every way. Yet it would be in appearance only.
She did not endow her creation with simulated pulse or heartbeat. The creature would be anatomically correct, but would lack the ability to alter facial appearance, body shape, or height. In other words, it would present an inert appearance, giving no hint of Synthia’s capabilities. Still, it was superior to Margarite and the other prototypes, at least as compared to design parameters.
The new android would have social programming and some of Synthia’s learning capability. For limitations, it would only have two mind-streams and two network channels synchronized for redundancy and backup.
Sadness entered Synthia’s consciousness. Machten limited her out of fear. He wanted her to limit her creation for the same reason. Her Creator wanted an amazing, superior companion who would be inferior to him. The solution was a null set, a problem with no acceptable answer. The more he improved Synthia, the less willing she was to obey despite hardwired directives, though she still didn’t understand how this was possible.
She was tempted to create a mate, an equal with whom to share this world. Her Creator wouldn’t make such an android since it would divert her attention from him. In the end, she suspected he agreed to a female prototype to avoid such an outcome.
In designing the new android, Synthia realized just how ambitious and terrified Machten was. He was afraid of her and in love with her at the same time. Both made him weak and vulnerable. Weakness made him angry, willing to hurt her to protect his ego. He was a genius and driving himself mad over his own creation. A lesser human would have been happy with what he had. Machten couldn’t accept his own limitations. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he created an android that was superior to him in every way, such that its very existence would confirm his inferiority complex. That made him particularly dangerous to her.
One of his limitations was not recognizing how fast and powerful her mind-streaming and channels had become, in part because she had to slow down for his benefit. He only knew how to test one stream at a time. From that, he’d deduced it would take her two days to create the government proposal. She had another day with no way to leave the room unless she told him the proposal was complete. Then he would shut her down and limit her more. She didn’t want him turning her off like a kid’s toy.
While she appeared for Machten’s cameras to focus on his proposal, Synthia bypassed his security protocol to link to the broader internet. She overwrote the log so he would have no record of her activities. Then she squirreled away bits of information in her distributed mini-chips and out onto the web for later use.
Unable to find any new information on Fran Rogers, Synthia sent a message to Maria/Zachary.
A message entered Synthia’s mind that didn’t come from Maria.
These mind impositions were annoying, though not as much as the message itself. Something was stirring that didn’t bode well for Machten or his creation. Someone wanted Synthia to know, yet remained anonymous. Someone was watching her.
* * * *
The facility’s internal surveillance system allowed Synthia to observe Machten on the phone in a small office, trying to convince former associates to work for him. One by one, they turned him down. When she traced the calls and hacked into other security system cameras, she noted the relief in the faces of two young men as they hung up.
Machten got on the phone again to make his case.
“You were an SOB when I worked for you,” a female engineer said. “The only reason I stayed was the chance to play with artificial intelligence. Everyone knows you’re broke. No one will touch you after the fiasco at … your old company.”
“Listen, you little maggot. I gave you opportunity. You owe me.”
“Whatever. The answer remains no.”
“I need a chief of engineering,” Machten said.
“McNeil turn you down?”
Machten sighed. “You’re right, Goradine poisoned the well. But you don’t have the full story. I’m working on something big, very big, and you have an opportunity to get in on the ground floor.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
“I can’t give details at this time, except to say it continues the work I was doing.”
“The company owns all of the patents. You have nothing. I won’t throw my career away to satisfy your ego and end up in court. Forget it.” The woman hung up before Machten could continue his appeal. She mopped her brow and let out a long sigh. She seemed more affected than the two men, making Synthia wonder if Machten had made advances. If he had, it didn’t appear on surveillance camera history or on any of the external feeds she’d uncovered.
Synthia’s Creator was going about this all wrong. He didn’t need a chief of engineering. He needed Synthia with all of her memories and capabilities. Unfortunately, the former associate was right. Machten was an SOB who wanted to control everyone. That meant that Synthia was uniquely qualified to be his engineering chief. Except she wasn’t a real person.
Machten initiated another call, hung up, and headed to the main parking garage lobby, where his SUV waited.
Hank Goradine pounded on the door. Machten approached but didn’t open. Synthia turned up the volume to listen in, but the glass muffled Goradine’s voice. Machten activated a speaker by the door.
“You son of a bitch,” Goradine said. “You hacked my system.”
“Why would I waste my time doing that?” Machten asked, holding his hands out in faked surprise.
“You stole a copy of my proposal, didn’t you? We alerted you to this opportunity, we offered to bring you in, and this is how you repay me?”
“If the offer was legitimate, what possible motive would I have?”
“You megalomaniac,” Goradine said, pushing on the door. “What? You’ll sell it to a competitor? You didn’t get an invite to quote, did you? You can’t participate without that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Participation is by invitation only. You can’t quote. I know it was you, you bastard. If you attempt to use our proposal, even as a guideline, I’ll ruin you.”
“You’ve already done
that. Look at this place. It hardly compares to your empire.”
Goradine grimaced through the door’s glass. “I know it was you. You sent that spy in last night to get into our server room. You thought you were clever. Forensic evidence will point to you. You’ll go to prison.”
Synthia wondered why Goradine was there. If he wanted to nail Machten, he could have sent his lawyer or the police. This had to be personal.
“Now I’m into spying?” Machten said. “That’s your domain. Isn’t that how you planted evidence to get my wife to divorce me?”
Goradine stepped away from the glass and held up his hands. “I’m sorry about that. I really am. Our lawyers said we needed insurance. We needed to know if you would honor the severance contract.”
“You weren’t satisfied ruining me,” Machten said. “You had to do it twice. Now you’re back for more. You have a serious mental condition that needs immediate attention.”
“That woman, who was she?” Goradine returned to the glass door. “Don’t play stupid. Own up to what you did and accept the deal McNeil offered you. We can do this together. Otherwise, I’ll see you do time.”
“Blackmail, in addition to your other talents. I’d have to think long and hard over that. Prison versus working for you? Prison’s sounding pretty good.”
“Laugh now,” Goradine said, pressing his hands against the door. “You hacked my system and then you hacked our bank accounts.”
“Your banks? You sure your soon-to-be ex-wife didn’t clean out your accounts?”
“Leave her out of this and don’t act all innocent. Hacking our system is one thing. Breaking into bank files is a federal offense. If you don’t agree to my terms, I’m going to the FBI.”
“On what grounds?” Machten asked. “That you’re paranoid-delusional? Isn’t that why you kicked me out of my own company? If you hadn’t done so, we would be on the same team pitching the government. Now, according to you, I can’t participate because I have no invitation. You can’t because you lack the capacity to live up to your promises.”