Unstable Prototypes

by Lallo, Joseph

  "Well, we were half-frozen, for one," Garotte said.

  "Even a brief exposure to the surface conditions of Manticore is capable of causing hypothermia and frostbite," Ma said. "Passive external rewarming should be sufficient treatment for mild hypothermia."

  The little creature launched herself to the floor. She managed to unhook the straps securing the bag that they had brought with them and tugged out the Cost-Mart bag, drifting her way over to the others and presenting it.

  "The Cost-Mart bag contains assorted first aid supplies. Please apply any that you deem necessary to ensure your swift and complete recovery from any sustained cellular damage," Ma remarked, when she was able to recover her slidepad from where she'd left it hanging in air.

  Garotte took the bag and began to fumble through it with his still fiercely stinging hands while Silo continued to stare at Ma, the soldier's mind slowly attempting to process the situation.

  "So you are Karter's computer."

  Ma nodded.

  "And you're a funk."

  Again, she nodded.

  "Why don't you smell bad like the other funk?"

  "Special pills," Garotte said, pulling out a plastic spray bottle, "And this stuff."

  Ma implied agreement.

  "And you just saved our lives."

  Another nod. Silo shook her head and twisted and turned the riddle floating just above the floor, trying to find a spot in her mind where Ma fit. The thing claimed to be an AI, but it certainly didn't act like the one she remembered from her brief interactions with it in Karter's facility. It acted like a person, but it certainly didn't look like a person. That didn't change the fact that it had done something exceedingly deserving of gratitude. She stared at it while struggling with the appropriate classification, and thus the appropriate way to treat her. The little creature simply stared back, slowly rotating. A flick of its ear drew Silo's eye to the detail that would break the stalemate.

  "Oh, sweetheart, you're bleeding," Silo said.

  Ma furrowed her brow in a look of confusion, holding up the slidepad and gazing at her reflection in its smooth surface. Sure enough, there was a neat little notch taken out of her ear, with a few specks of dried blood accompanied by a fresh trickle beading up. Evidently one of the shots fired by her opponent in the orbital station at Manticore had come closer to its target than she had realized. She had only begun to nose out a reply when Silo snatched her out of the air fast enough to dislodge the slidepad from her paws.

  "Pass me some swabs, some ointment, and a bandage, will you?" Silo said, inspecting the injury.

  When Garotte sent the requested supplies darting her way, Silo deftly plucked them out of the air, then tucked Ma under one arm and went to work. She carefully dabbed at the ear, then pinched away the scab, prompting a jerk of pain and an involuntary yelp of discomfort.

  "Oh, baby, I know," Silo said through puckered lips in a soothing voice. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you. You won't have to worry about that little booboo anymore."

  Ointment was gently applied, and a small adhesive bandage folded over the wound.

  "There, see? Good as new!" Silo said, holding Ma up and looking her in the eyes with a smile.

  Silo cradled Ma on her lap, belly up, and began to scratch and fondle the advanced artificial intelligence. Ma righted herself and made a brief attempt to make her way to the escaped slidepad, but the woman simply tugged her back and held her close, slowly and steadily stroking the funk's head and back. The AI was tempted to try more vigorously to escape, but instead she took a moment to observe the effect her current treatment was having on the newest member of the team. Silo had clearly been agitated earlier, showing signs of stress and anxiety. The telltale indicators of distress were steadily fading now, Ma's sensitive nose detecting fewer stress compounds and her ears reporting a slower and steadier pulse rate. The experience was not entirely unpleasant from her own point of view either. She decided that, in the short term, she was providing a more useful service in this therapeutic role than she would be in an advisory role.

  "Oh lord," Garotte said, rolling his eyes.

  "What's your problem?" Silo asked.

  "Look at you? Fawning over that thing. What is it with women and small mammals?"

  "Have you ever felt her pelt? So warm and soft..."

  "It is a computer, Silo."

  "Well, they've made some real advances in user friendliness since they locked me up, then," she said, tickling Ma's chin.

  "Unfortunately, we've got business to discuss. We need... Wait," he said, pulling a bottle out of the bag of supplies. "We had anesthetic the whole time?!"

  Ma nodded.

  "And you let me jab my face full of needles without the benefit of so much as an aspirin?!"

  Ma looked to the slidepad drifting just out of reach. Silo plucked it out of the air and gave it to the AI, who flipped onto her back again and clutched it, nosing out a message.

  "You had denied me of my means of communication at that point. Your resulting discomfort was thus a self-imposed punishment. It seemed fitting."

  "That is just the most gosh darn adorable thing I've ever seen," Silo said, watching in delight as Ma held the slidepad and poked it with her nose.

  "She just admitted to allowing me to subject myself to agonizing and potentially disfiguring pain," Garotte remarked.

  "I'm sure she's sorry. Just look at that face."

  Ma glanced at Garotte, then selected a reply.

  "I feel no particular guilt or regret for the action described, nor do I feel that such an attitude is warranted," the automated voice droned.

  Silo snickered. "She's like a fuzzy little lawyer."

  Garotte grumbled as he dug through his own supplies, pulling out a canister with two large pills. Fishing out a bottle of water, he downed a few of the painkillers along with the pills. The subtle alterations he'd made to his face began to ease back into their natural configuration in a sequence of unsettling shifts and twitches.

  "Oh, golly, I hate this part," Silo said with a wince. She turned away and blocked her vision with her hand.

  "Hardly a picnic for me, either," he said. "I've got a shipment of parts and such to pick up, though. They are expecting Garotte, not Kenny. If you're done with the computer, I could use a hand working out how best to gather the resources and meet our rendezvous."

  Silo and Ma looked to Garotte with matching looks of vague surprise.

  "What? She's an insufferable bitch, but I'd say that she's a damn good computer, and I could use one right now," he said.

  Ma nosed at her pad. "A funk is not a canine, so the term 'bitch' is inappropriate. The most appropriate taxonomic classification for a female funk would be a vixen."

  "While I do so strive for taxonomic accuracy, I've known a few in my time, and I assure you, you are most certainly a -"

  "Really, Garotte! Language," Silo reprimanded. "There are ladies present. You really shouldn't say things like that."

  Ma worked at her pad. "I thank you for your defense, Miss Silo, but I have observed that Garotte's typical mode of social interaction with perceived equals relies heavily on jocular ribbing and banter. Sharing this treatment is thus an implicit indicator of perceived equality, and is acceptable. What aid do you require, Mr. Garotte?"

  "Well, now that we've been seen misbehaving, it is probably best that we stay off the main road, so to speak. I've never been much of a navigator, and I very much doubt Silo is any more comfortable than I at traversing uncharted space. I would like a route that will take us to a few places to gather the chips for payment, then to the rendezvous for pickup. Ideally, the path should be one that doesn't obliterate us along the way. Can you do that?"

  Ma selected a reply from a list of prepared statements. "In expectation of the requirement to navigate unmonitored space, I accessed the flight history of Mr. Alexander's vehicle. I have been background processing it, analyzing for navigational patterns. His methods do not conform to any algorithmically derivable mod
els, but subset of data points did show a degree of repeatability."

  "I was looking for a yes or no."

  "I am afraid that the confidence value associated with my reply is below the default threshold to render a binary response."

  Garotte sighed. "I am going to ask you again, and I want a one word answer. Can you plot a safe course?"

  "Probably."

  "Good enough for me. Get to it."

  Ma wriggled free of Silo's grip and propelled herself to the dash with the pad in her teeth. She managed to bring herself to a stop against the head rest, wrapped her tail around it, and began entering commands and calling up charts. With nothing to occupy her, Silo unbuckled her restraints and allowed herself to drift free, stretching luxuriously. The motions put a bit more strain on the ill fitting jumpsuit, among other things.

  "Oh!" she groaned in relief. "I feel two inches taller. It is so good to get away from that gravity."

  "Really?" Garotte remarked, rattling his head to snap out of the primitive state of mind her limbering up had placed him in. "Before the power went out, it seemed like you didn't like the idea of leaving."

  "I didn't like the idea of breaking out," she said, warning in her tone.

  "Out for a penny, out for a pound," he said with a shrug.

  She grumbled something incoherent.

  "You aren't still mad about that little dare, are you?"

  "The dare that led me to cause almost two trillion credits in property damage? The one that caused me to be dismissed from the only thing in my life that meant anything? Yes! Of course I'm still angry about it!"

  "Look, I can understand if you still blame me for-"

  "No!" she stated harshly. She covered her eyes and calmed herself. "No, I don't blame you for that. You didn't force me to do it, you dared me to do it. I didn't have to accept! I am the one who took that building down. It was my decision. The consequences are on my shoulders."

  For a few moments there was silence.

  "Damn fine job of it, though," Garotte remarked.

  "It really was," she said quickly and eagerly. She clenched her fists and forced the smile from her face. "Darn it, Garotte... I'm not supposed to be proud of that sort of thing."

  "Nonsense. You are a surgeon with heavy artillery. What's not to be proud of? It sounds to me that you've been letting those prison psychiatrists get to you."

  "You really don't see the problem in it, do you?"

  "That I most certainly do not. And I certainly don't see why a feeling of guilt about inappropriate pride would motivate you to sulk in a prison for the rest of your life."

  "I wasn't sulking in prison because I felt guilty, Garotte. I was sulking in prison because I was guilty. We broke the law! Violated a treaty! They caught us, they tried us, they convicted us! Prison is where we belong!"

  "Even if we've got something more worthwhile to do? Certainly not. Prison is for the worthless flotsam of society that cannot contribute in any meaningful way and thus must be kept tucked away, lest they spoil things for the common folk. You and I were lucky enough to be given gifts, my dear! We were endowed by our creator with incomparable talents, the likes of which are seldom seen, and thus, to allow those god-given abilities to fester within a cell is tantamount to blasphemy!" Garotte proclaimed theatrically.

  "... How do you fit through doors with an ego that big?"

  "Nothing wrong with a healthy self-image," he said, straightening his collar. "But all joking aside, regardless of our personal beliefs vis-à-vis the applicability of justice, can we at least agree that the elimination of the threat presented by Karter's abduction takes precedent."

  "Yeah. On that, we can agree."

  "Excuse me, but I have drafted a prospective course," Ma stated. "There are three stops prior to the rendezvous; a trade station, a supply station, and a small asteroid colony. Each has at least four gambling kiosks or parlors. Small, randomized withdrawals of amounts below alarm thresholds will permit us to collect the required payment amount in chips without detection. The trade station will have clothing retailers as well, in order to procure more appropriate apparel for Miss Silo."

  Garotte unlatched his restraints and floated to the control panel to look over the course.

  "I could certainly use a change of clothes. Manticore only stocked standard sizes, and I suppose I'm not so standard," Silo said, tugging at the ill-fitting outfit. "The equipment supervisors never could find the right fit. Either that or none of them knew what they were doing."

  "Oh, I don't know," Garotte countered, turning to look her up and down. "Were they men, mostly?"

  "Yes."

  "I think they knew exactly what they were doing."

  "Garotte!" she said, smirking and giving him a playful shove.

  Her high gravity muscles combined with the zero gravity ship made it a bit less playful than she'd intended, sending Garotte tumbling over the controls and bouncing his head off of the front view window.

  "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she blurted, helping him back to a steady and upright position.

  "Not at all. You know I like-"

  "If you say you like it rough, you'll be looking for the rest of your teeth in a minute."

  He opened his mouth, but thought better of his comment. Instead, he turned and gave the course a final glance. After a moment of consideration, he remarked, "Hell, if I knew what made for a good course, I'd have drawn it up myself. Do it."

  Ma tapped her pad and the ship was on its way. With her task done, she turned to Silo, who after a few more stretches had strapped herself loosely into a seat again. The AI traced out a few statements, then launched the first, making eye contact with their latest ally as it was read aloud.

  "Miss Silo, I am afraid that, in order to maximize available storage and processing resources in my current platform, I stored only the information I anticipated would be relevant. As you were not a part of my intended course of action, my data concerning you is extremely limited. To state the problem more succinctly, though I may have met you before, I do not know anything about you. I wonder if you would share some biographic information in order to permit me to establish a baseline for interaction."

  "Isn't she the sweetest thing?" Silo remarked, putting her hand on her hip. "Well sure thing, sweetheart! What would you like to know?"

  "I request any biographical data you deem relevant to the formulation of an accurate behavioral profile."

  "Little fuzzy lawyer," she said with a shake of her head, patting her lap.

  Ma looked curiously at the gesture.

  "Well? Come on," Silo said, patting again with both hands.

  Ma drifted over to Silo and was quickly plucked from the air and cradled in her lap.

  "Let's see. What to say about me?" she wondered, idly stroking the creature in her lap. "Well, I was born in Wisconsin, where I had a bulldog named Brewski and a Pomeranian named Koosh. Mother, Father, and three older brothers, all military, through and through. Heavy ordinance training, graduated with honors. Distinguished service record... up until the incident. Um... What else?"

  "Favorite food: Fresh apples. Favorite color: Red. Astrological Sign: Pisces. Favorite leisure activity: Reading. Favorite Genre: Paranormal Romance," Garotte rattled off, the final words carrying a fair amount of contempt.

  "How do you know all of that?" Silo asked.

  "We worked together for four years. Gathering intelligence is one of my primary roles, you'll remember. Though I must say, I never would have guessed that last bit."

  "There's nothing wrong with a little fantasy mixed in with your romance."

  Ma nosed at her slidepad. "Please describe the nature of your collaborations with each other."

  "Our collaborations were of a classified nature," he said.

  "Oh, Garotte, who is she going to tell?"

  "Until a mishap with some high voltage, she had an internet connection."

  "Did she?"

  "That doodad on her neck."

  "Is that what it was? I th
ought that was jewelry."

  "Oddly, animal neck piercings never caught on."

  "I am aware of a great number of Mr. Garotte's exploits. I know that he associated with a number of current and former military personnel as a private contractor, performing infiltration, defense, espionage, and anti-terrorist operations. You reached an arrangement with Karter to supply you with specialized equipment. My primary interest is in the role played by Miss Silo, and the interpersonal dynamic developed between the two of you."

  "I blew things up for him. That was the extent of our relationship," Silo said bluntly.

  "Then the physical aspect of the relationship is a recent development?"

  Garotte raised an eyebrow and Silo's mouth dropped open, each staring at the creature.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Silo said. "If you're talking about that 'I like it rough' thing, that was just that... What did you call it? … Jocular... He was just teasing."