Reborn

by Lance Erlick

  Synthia replayed the attack in the alley and considered whether she was such a psychopath. That was nonsense. Only humans could have that syndrome. She was the product of programming.

  “I didn’t mean to bore you,” he said.

  “You’re not. It seems a timely topic to think about.”

  His eyes dilated, showing more interest. He leaned forward. “Rumor has it the government wants to make androids able to operate independently and mingling among us, like those aerial drones they use, only worse. They’d be spies to prevent terrorism and anything else the government doesn’t like.”

  That sent alarms through her system. Careful. “If you could create the android of your dreams, what would you do with it?”

  “No one will give me that much money.”

  “As a thought experiment, then.”

  “Okay,” Luke said. “I’d create androids to do the work humans don’t want to do, not the ones they like.”

  “Slaves, in other words.” That was what Machten was using her for.

  “If they were designed for a specific purpose, they wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  “I bet you’d keep one as a personal slave.” She smiled, hoping he’d know she was teasing.

  “That would be a waste of artificial intelligence,” Luke said. “You can buy dolls from Korea and elsewhere cheaper than you could create a fancy android from scratch. Why put so much mental horsepower into a physical act?” He stopped.

  He hadn’t acted at all nervous talking until that moment. Then his anxiety went into overdrive. His heart skipped a beat. His breathing picked up. His hands twitched. He looked away and slowed his breathing.

  “Go on,” she said. “That is very interesting.”

  Luke shrugged and stared at her, still trying to make out what to do. He was interested yet terrified. He went on: “I’d really like to create androids that can move beyond human limitations in a good way. We could send them into space, where it’s dangerous for humans and less so for robots. They would need to be self-sufficient to do that.”

  “If they had the full capabilities to perform in space, they would have the ability to displace humans on Earth as well.”

  His eyes saddened. “That’s the paradox. Limiting androids that have high intelligence is a form of slavery.”

  “Aren’t humans limited by Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? A human in danger can’t excel at higher-level needs. An imperiled human will either sacrifice himself for friends or family or sacrifice another human to save himself.” She recorded that idea in her directives idea bank for later. “Besides, we have laws and social conventions that restrain humans in order to form working communities.”

  “You’re right. Asimov’s laws of robotics are very good as far as they go. However, they assume that robots and androids would be morally inferior to humans and thus need human guidance. If androids surpass humans in intelligence, it’s hard to know if they would follow a moral code or whether they would continue to obey a set of laws developed by less intelligent humans. After all, is it not arrogant to assume we can understand beings considerably more intelligent than us?”

  Detecting his high level of interest, Synthia leaned in. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but I need to get off the street.”

  “You haven’t had anything to eat.”

  “I’m fine. I’m worried someone might recognize me, as you did.”

  “Could I drop you off somewhere?” Luke asked.

  Smiling, Synthia monitored his pupil dilation and sweat; she’d made him uncomfortable. She leaned in as far as she could and whispered. “A man snatched my purse with my keys, wallet, and all of my identification.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “I’m nobody with nowhere to go. I hate to ask. I know it’s entirely too presumptuous of me. A place for the night, that’s all. I’ll try not to be a bother. I’ll leave in the morning and get out of your hair.”

  When he hesitated, she added, “I think it must be fate that we met twice in two days.” Yeah, fate and a citywide camera system that allowed her to track him.

  “I … my place is a mess.”

  “I’m not looking to buy it. Trust me, whatever you can offer will be much better than sleeping in the park or in an alley.”

  “I couldn’t let you do that,” Luke said. “Are you sure you don’t have a friend or relative?”

  She turned to stand up. “I shouldn’t have asked. To be honest, I was walking by, noticed the pies in the window, and spotted you. I’ll go.” She placed her hand on the table and stood up.

  He placed his moist hand on hers. “No, wait. If you’re sure you won’t mind the mess.”

  Synthia sat down to avoid drawing attention from a couple at the cash register. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ll try not to be a nuisance.” His breathing grew so shallow she was afraid she’d have to perform CPR.

  “Sure, you’re welcome to spend the night.”

  She placed her hand on his and squeezed. “Thanks. You won’t notice I’m there unless you want to talk.”

  While she waited for his response, Synthia monitored the police investigation of her break-in of Machten’s old company. The police forensic team was scrutinizing the device she’d left for any DNA evidence, as well as scrubbing every surface she’d touched. So far they hadn’t uncovered anything useful.

  Zephirelli headed to a hotel, where she made another phone call. Synthia tapped in. “I think we’re on to something,” the NSA director said. “Goradine’s associates attacked Machten. They also went after a woman who might be the same one Machten was seen with.”

  Chapter 19

  Synthia had Luke leave first. “I don’t want any cameras seeing us together,” she said, though the inside cameras already had. She made sure those cameras did not have a usable image of her face and met him on a side street behind the diner.

  She walked beside him. “Do you think an artificial intelligence could become fully conscious like a human?” She nudged him as she’d seen human couples do when they were out together. The effect was to elevate his heart rate and his pheromone levels.

  He stole a glance her way, reached for her hand, and made a fist. “I’d like to think so, as an evolutionary adaptation. It’s an intriguing thought that the ultimate transformation beyond human limitations could be the upload of a person’s complete memories into an artificial intelligence, allowing that person to continue to live.”

  “Naturally, such persons would want to be treated as human,” Synthia said, “since they derived their existence from their human form.”

  “That’s another paradox,” he said, walking faster. “Where do we draw the line between human and not human? Does an uploaded android get citizenship? What about non-uploads that perform identically? If we restrict citizenship based on capabilities, wouldn’t that also apply to certain humans? That violates every principle of democracy. Worse, if androids surpassed us, they might remove human citizenship over our inferior capabilities? This could be a real mess.”

  Synthia considered the idea of upload in connection with her memories of a childhood that wasn’t hers, at least not as an android. Had Machten downloaded someone’s thoughts into her as a way to jump-start her development? If so, who was she? “Do you think it’s possible to upload a person’s identity into a computer?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t found any credible evidence to lead me to that conclusion.”

  “If you could upload into an artificially intelligent android, would that being have human consciousness?”

  “Define consciousness,” Luke said.

  Synthia started to give a dictionary definition and realized he was calling for something more profound. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s human consciousness, which allows us to develop a conscience, literature, and science. There’s also dolp
hin and dog consciousness. We don’t know what that’s like. Even among humans, it would be arrogant of me to claim to know what your experience of consciousness is. Humans are all different. We’re here.”

  “Here?” They were standing in front of a three-story apartment building that appeared to have four apartments per floor, one in each corner. She spotted cameras along the front of the building. She hacked into the building’s wireless security cameras and spotted twelve mailboxes in the lobby, consistent with four apartments per floor.

  “My humble abode.” He pointed to the front door. Behind it, stairs led up and more led down.

  She cupped her hand to his ear. “Is there a back way in? Cameras.”

  He sighed. “Is that necessary?”

  “Better safe than sorry.”

  The apartment’s security cameras covered the front of the building and the hallways, but nothing in back. She hurried around a neighbor’s house, reached the backyard, and spotted the balcony for Luke’s apartment. Using her infrared eyes, she located a third-floor resident lying on a bed or sofa. There was no one home in the other apartments facing the back. She leaped, grabbed hold of the balcony frame, and swung up over the railing, landing on soft wood.

  Luke opened the balcony door. “That was amazing,” he said. “Were you a gymnast?”

  “Thanks. I’m rusty.” She reminded herself not to show off in front of him and detected hints of pleasure at having done so. There was something familiar about swinging her body up and over a bar despite having no such memories.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t fall through,” Luke said. “The floor’s rotten in places and the landlord is too cheap to fix it.”

  He led her past a small grill and inside his apartment. She experienced twinges of guilt and disloyalty entering another man’s home when she was supposed to be obeying Machten. This caused her temperature to rise.

  Luke hadn’t been kidding about the mess. A human girlfriend wouldn’t tolerate this. Books and papers covered every surface. He cleared a path through the center of the room. “I don’t get many visitors,” he said. “None since I moved in, actually.” He waved his hand at the mess. “This is research for my blogs.”

  Synthia picked up a stack of papers from the sofa entitled “Transhuman Artificial Intelligence.” Flipping pages, she scanned the document into her database. “Transhuman AI?”

  “It’s pretty technical.”

  She wanted to ask him about the content without scaring him with what she knew. “You seem very smart. I like that.” She smiled to let him know she meant it.

  He kicked boxes of papers and books out of the way to make a path to the sofa and then cleared a place to sit. “Can I get you something to eat or drink? I bet you’re starving.”

  Not for food, she wasn’t, though a good electrical charge could get her salivating. Despite the jumbled mess, there were no food crumbs or spills outside of the kitchen. Indeed, the small kitchen itself was clean. Mess to him meant all of his work, not food and grunge. She liked that about him. She felt at home in his place. “I’m fine. I’m not hungry. It looks as though you’re working on a big project, a proposal or something.”

  “Sit. I promise it’s not as dirty as it looks. The dust lands on the papers, books, and boxes.” He sat on the table, stared at her, and then turned away, though his eyes kept coming back to her. “You sure I can’t get you at least some water?”

  “That would be great,” she said to be sociable. “Tell me about your project.”

  “Are you sure?” He hurried into the kitchen and returned with two glasses. He cleared a place on the table to set them.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

  “It’s just, most girls aren’t interested in my work,” he said. “They think it’s too creepy.”

  His eyes studied her. His heart wasn’t racing as before and his breathing was normal, yet he was staring. She blinked and looked away to avoid the android flaw of the fixed eye. For a moment, she considered that he might be an android, but he had too many biological signals.

  “Okay,” Luke said, sitting across from her. He picked up his glass, but his hand shook so he put it down. “You asked for it. I’m working on a research proposal for the government. They’re offering dozens of prizes for ideas leading to advancements in artificial intelligence, robotics, and androids. If I have a good enough showing, I might at least get a job out of this.”

  “Have you had a job in this field before?”

  “Just internships.”

  “With whom?” Synthia asked.

  “Machten-Goradine-McNeil. They’re—”

  “I’ve heard of them.” She pulled up old company security footage she’d downloaded and scanned. He appeared in several frames, mostly scurrying from place to place, with his head down. His last appearance was a year ago. “They do robotics work, don’t they?”

  He nodded.

  “Are you still working there?”

  “Hell no,” Luke said. “They’re all megalomaniacs, jerks. Wait—you’re not one of their spies, are you? Last year when they fired me I had to sign a confidentiality agreement never to talk about them.”

  Synthia slowed her speech. “I’ve never worked for them,” she said, carefully phrasing it so that it wasn’t a lie. “And you’re right. I hear they’re jerks and into illegal activities.”

  “Really?” Luke said. He cradled his glass in his hands, making no attempt to move it to his lips. “That wouldn’t surprise me. After they fired me, Goradine had one of his goons stop by. He trashed my computer, took all of my work, including what I’d done after they tossed me on the street.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The jerk also made sure I couldn’t get a job with any of their competitors. He killed my career.”

  Synthia wanted to ask Luke about Fran, about what he might know of her disappearance, but she didn’t want to frighten him by presuming to know too much. She took his hand from the glass and squeezed it. His palm was dry. Having gotten all worked up over the company, he’d lost his awkwardness around her.

  “You deserve better,” she said. “What kind of work were you doing for them?”

  “Mostly coding routines to help a robot operate in the real world.” He shrugged, pulled away, and clamped his hands together. “I shouldn’t have.”

  “Shouldn’t have what?”

  He got up and moved away. “It doesn’t matter. They had a dozen other people doing the same work. I doubt they’ll use my stuff.”

  “Don’t be so modest.”

  “Goradine and Machten were more interested in the female interns.” He looked at her. “I don’t want to talk about the company. I’m not supposed to, and I don’t want to remember those days.” Staring at the floor, he paused for a moment. Then he glared at her. “After work today, some government agent grabbed me in the parking lot. She tried to dig up the past. You’re not working for her, are you?”

  “I don’t work for anyone right now,” she said, letting her eyes tear up. “I didn’t mean to upset you. That was very insensitive of me, particularly after you’ve been so nice.” She needed to sharpen her empathy skills. “You talked earlier about rules for an android. Have you thought of designing laws to allow an android to learn and adapt and yet obey ethical standards?”

  Luke clenched his fists. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed his index finger at her. “You might be on to something. People have assumed that either Asimov’s rules are good enough or an emergent consciousness wouldn’t need rules.”

  “You mean rules that move beyond human ethics?”

  “Perhaps an ethical system that doesn’t have human flaws. Properly designed, androids with artificial intelligence could consistently apply a good and powerful ethical system. That would make androids superior.”

  “What might that look like?” she asked, running through
her scenarios for comparison.

  “I don’t know,” Luke admitted. “Take the best of human ethics and apply it consistently, I guess. The problem with humans is, without constraints and repercussions, many tend to do what they can get away with.”

  “You don’t think humans have a conscience?”

  “I guess most do.” He stared, studying her. His blood pressure was up with the intensity, though his heart wasn’t racing as it had earlier. “Seems to me that most people behave out of fear of punishment or expecting benefits either in this life or the next. Some people who claim to be religious do right in this world so they can reach heaven and enjoy their rewards in the next. That’s not ethical. It’s self-serving, selfish. They act to benefit themselves. An atheist performing good deeds with no expectation of rewards is far more ethical than a godly man expecting to earn his way into heaven.”

  “What made you so cynical?” she asked, wondering where that came from.

  He shook his head. “Someone I used to know would say things like that.” He began pacing, kicking boxes out of his way.

  “Who?” Synthia scanned social media, searching for clues, since she hadn’t found him to have many friends.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I bored you with all that ethical stuff.”

  “You didn’t. Not at all. I found it fascinating.” She smiled, leaned forward, and used every nuance she’d learned. “Would you be so kind as to help me design good behavioral rules? I mean, as a thought experiment for an android that was intended to interact with people.”

  “You’re playing with me, aren’t you? Who put you up to this? You sure you’re not working for Goradine or that Zephirelli woman?”

  Synthia was shocked and didn’t know how to respond. She did a parallel search of her databases and web files for clues. “Have I offended you?” That came from Machten’s programming.

  Luke stopped pacing and sat across from Synthia, clutching his hands in his lap. “This is the last thing a girl wants to hear, but you remind me of someone. You did the moment I saw you at Constant Connection. I can’t help thinking we’ve met, yet I know we haven’t.”