“He has listed his availability as ‘when I’m damn-well ready.’ Based on his present activity, a more accurate estimate would be fifteen minutes. Squee is on her way to you right now. If you are willing, I would like to initiate the first phase of the memory procedure.”
“Yeah, may as well.”
A door hissed open and the tapping of little feet echoed quietly into the hall. Squee appeared, nose to the floor, sniffing along with great interest. When she spotted Lex, she fell into step beside him, nose still to the floor, tail twitching gently.
“Where to, Ma?” he asked.
“The cafeteria. I am sure you are hungry after your trip. I will have the appropriate apparatus in place. When Michella and Karter are through, I will have them meet you there, and will secure the specimen as well. Are there any procedures necessary for the safe handling of the device?”
“That case needs to be kept closed and powered. As far as I know, as soon as the lid is opened, we’ll have a frenzied self-replicating robot on our hands.”
“I will fabricate an appropriate power adaptor and keep it in a fortified storage bay.”
Lex made his way with some familiarity through the laboratory until he came to a room that looked like a particularly unpopular school cafeteria. Steam trays were arrayed along a counter at one side, while the rest of the room was set with combination table-benches. A robotic arm was present at the end of one table beside a small piece of apparatus. It was a nondescript box with a single cable leading out from one side, tipped with a small connector. The other side of the box had a large rubberized antenna.
“So what exactly has to happen?” Lex asked.
“For this phase we simply need a standard neural upload. Place Squee on the table and keep her calm,” Ma said.
Squee, in what was either an act of extreme obedience or well-timed disobedience, hopped up onto the table to inspect the apparatus. The arm shifted smoothly to life. Squee watched with interest as it maneuvered over her head.
“Face front, please, Squee,” Ma requested.
The funk didn’t precisely obey, instead shifting to look to the loudspeaker on the wall, but it was enough for the arm to deftly remove the protective cap from a small port nestled in the fur at the back of her neck. Ma then plucked up the cable and, with remarkable speed and precision, inserted it into the port. As soon as it was in place, Squee pulled her head back and twisted it slightly, as though she was hearing a sound she couldn’t identify.
“Is everything okay?” Lex asked.
“Everything is proceeding nominally. As we have several months of eidetic memories to download, it will take approximately eight minutes. Squee is experiencing something Karter calls an externally initiated accelerated recall event.”
“Sounds like her life is flashing before her eyes.”
“Another artful analogy, Lex. Well done.”
“She doesn’t seem comfortable,” Lex said, an ounce of worry in his expression.
“I assure you, I am monitoring all synaptic activity. She’s experiencing no pain or anxiety. It is merely disorientation. Large-scale snapshots of this sort are typically done while the subject is asleep. After three to six iterations, this procedure will be routine.”
“I hope so.”
“The initial neural data is processing now. You are to be commended. Squee’s mental enrichment is superb. I will take measurements and blood samples, but she appears to be in fine physical health as well. There are several minutes more of the procedure. Please help yourself to a meal while it is completing.”
“Let me guess. Beans and rice?”
“The staple of Karter’s diet is of course available separately and as burritos. However, I understand that variety is generally desirable. The leftmost station has an alternate entrée.”
“Really?”
He paced over to the counter, grabbed a tray, and slid it over to the indicated food station. Lifting the lid released a wave of aroma that was remarkably familiar. There was a bowl with rich red chili. Another bowl sat beside it with a few bags of corn chips.
“Wow… this smells exactly like the chili from Marvin’s.” He took another whiff. “Did you… did you have this delivered from Marvin’s?”
“No. I’ve attempted to recreate his recipe.”
Lex snagged the bowl, foregoing the spoon entirely in favor of the chips. He plopped down at the table beside the still-disoriented Squee and scooped some up. “This is his chili. How did you do that?”
“When I last processed Squee’s memories and discovered their eidetic nature, I processed an instance when she joined you at the eatery known as Starvin’ Marvin’s Curb Counter. You appeared to thoroughly enjoy the food on that occasion and allowed Squee to lick the bowl. Her olfactory and gustatory acuity are sufficient to accurately determine the ingredients and their respective proportions. From there the rest of the preparation procedure was simple to replicate.”
“Wow… well, you’re a great cook, Ma,” he said.
“Thank you, Lex. I am pleased you are enjoying it.”
“Uh… so when you look over these memories, how much… attention do you pay?”
“I comprehensively process and log every significant event. It is pleasant to be able to see the more domestic and routine moments of your life. Doing so has provided me with significant insight into your behavior and, more generally, human behavior.”
“Okay. Well… that’s good,” he said, staring vaguely at the far wall of the cafeteria.
“You are exhibiting signs of unease. Are you bothered by this behavior?”
“Well, it’s like when I couldn’t pee while you were watching. Some things are private.”
“I am only privy to moments directly witnessed by Squee. You must implicitly sacrifice your privacy in order to allow the funk to be present.”
“That’s different. Squee’s an animal. There are different rules.”
“I was unaware of this social distinction. You feel as though I’ve invaded your privacy.”
“No! Well, yes, but it’s… I don’t know. It’s one of those situations I don’t know how to feel about.”
“While I find the logging and analysis of Squee’s memories to be an enjoyable and enriching experience, if you prefer I will isolate that subroutine from my core processes to preserve your privacy.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he said, feeling oddly as though he was asking her to deprive herself of a rare and treasured treat. “Just… if you suspect you’re seeing something that I might not have voluntarily shown you, maybe look away, so to speak.”
“I shall endeavor to oblige. It is gratifying that you would trust me to make such subtle social judgments. I look forward to honing my social understanding sufficiently to do so with a human-level success rate.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said with a shrug.
“At the risk of exacerbating the present awkwardness caused by my inadvertent violation of social bounds, I have a few questions of a personal nature that I would very much like to clarify.”
Lex sighed. “What have you got for me, Ma?” he asked, stroking Squee with one hand while loading up another corn chip.
“As you know, I have been reviewing Squee’s memories, and am now doing so for those created since your last visit. I’ve made some observations regarding Ms. Modane’s interactions with Squee, which I believe may be applicable to her attitudes in general.”
“Okay, this should be interesting.”
“Your own interactions with Squee are more intellectually and physically engaging for Squee than those initiated by Ms. Modane. You, for instance, collaboratively devise games, such as when you let her leap into the SOB during the boarding procedure, or your unique usage of the retractable leash in zero-gravity environments.”
“Well, that’s just messing around.”
“Regardless of your motivation for such enrichment, Squee values and anticipates it to a much higher degree than the forms that Ms. Modane’s af
fection takes. Most of those are passive, simply stroking Squee’s fur, walking her, or briefly interacting verbally with her. You engage in conversations with Squee. Ms. Modane’s verbal interactions are evenly split between reprimands for disobedience and queries of questionable value and self-evident response.”
“What queries?”
The reply, played over the same speakers as Ma’s voice, came instead in Michella’s voice. “Who is the cutest? Are you happy to see me? Where’s my little angel?” Presumably the voice was drawn directly from Squee’s memory.
“So we interact with pets differently. What’s the big deal?”
“There are parallels between how she treats Squee and how she treats you. She has an undeniable affection, but this affection is at most times secondary to her more personal pursuits. She becomes agitated when your behavior strays from the confines of what she considers to be acceptable.”
“Hey, hey,” Lex said, half joking. “We also sleep together.”
“In this analysis, that behavior corresponds to Ms. Modane’s stroking of Squee’s fur. It is a mutually enjoyable physical activity involving two parties, one of whom vigorously and constantly pursues said activity while the other periodically indulges in said activity when the mood arises.”
“Well, when you say it like that…”
“In my understanding, which it has been established is incomplete and malformed in comparison to human understanding, you are less a boyfriend and more a pet. A figure in Ms. Modane’s life that exists to provide comfort and enjoyment without interfering with her more primary goals. It is at its core an inequitable arrangement, and one which it may be advisable to reassess.”
“Wow,” Lex said, crunching at a chip. “That’s… a heck of a thing.”
“I’m unsure how to interpret that response.”
“It’s just… you’ve been doing a lot of thinking on this, haven’t you?”
“It has occupied only a fraction of a percent of my total computational potential. However, it is a matter that I have found fascinating.”
“Why?”
“Because your relationship violates the effort-reward balance policies present elsewhere in your life. If this relationship were an occupation, you would have terminated it in favor of a more balanced one months ago. For my own purposes, it is crucial for me to understand the healthy reasoning behind your motivation to make the relationship work. If such reasoning exists, discovering it will vastly improve my social understanding. If such reasoning does not exist, then it is my obligation as your friend to suggest a healthier route. For instance, have you considered that there may exist figures in your life with whom a more compatible and equitable relationship may be possible?”
“Like who?”
“My simulations suggest Ms. Preethy Misra would be an ideal match for you.”
Lex was unable to suppress a laugh.
“Is this statement in some way humorous?” Ma asked, impressively managing to sound stern despite the artificial nature of her voice.
“No, no. You just caught me off guard. I’m not sure I would have chosen the word ideal. What led you to that assessment?”
“She has the same approximate body type as Ms. Modane, with minor variances in the hips and bust. She also demonstrates fashion preferences that emphasize and accentuate these variances. Like Ms. Modane, she is motivated, intelligent, and career driven. Unlike Ms. Modane, her career goals complement your own. Her desire to recruit you into her proposed league, regardless of its motivation, will facilitate the return to your desired profession and will provide her with a top-tier talent. She has also been exhibiting signals of romantic interest ranging from casual flirtations to blatant sexual overtures. She is, colloquially speaking, giving you the signals.”
“Okay, I’ll grant you all of that, but she’s also the niece of a mobster,” he said.
“Correct.”
“And how did that figure into your matchmaking?”
“I determined it to be a positive indicator of compatibility based on known criteria of personal preference.”
“You think I prefer dating people with mob connections? What makes you think that?”
“Processing… Processing… I apologize. I have made a sequence of invalid assumptions. Disregard the statement. If you prefer, I can offer an alternate topic of discussion in order to avoid causing undue emotional stress.”
“No, no, no. Don’t change the subject. I’ve only had one girlfriend since I’ve known you and that’s Michella, so I’ve got to assume that you’re basing what you perceive to be my preferences on her. What exactly do you know about Michella that gave you that idea about me and the mob? And why do you know it? And how?”
“By the sharpness of your tone, it is clear to me that you feel I have overstepped a social bound. I will continue this discussion only if you give me your assurance that it will not damage what I consider to be my most valued interpersonal relationship.”
“It’s fine, Ma, really,” he said, trying to even out his voice.
“Your elevated heart rate and facial blood flow suggest otherwise.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to lie, you’ve got me a little off balance here, but we’re still cool. I just want an explanation.”
“Very well. I shall address your queries in reverse order. I know what I know about Ms. Modane through observation and analysis, combining information available anecdotally through conversation with you, as well as processed memories from Squee, publicly available data, and privately available data. I pursued this information for multiple reasons, including a desire to increase available topics of conversation, to deepen my understanding of your tastes and desires, to assess the positive and negative impacts of the relationship on your daily life, and out of an interest in potentially expanding my social circle to include her as at least a casual acquaintance. The information, both verified and postulated, is vast and cannot be efficiently divulged without direction and focus.”
“Fair enough. Now what do you know about Michella and the mob?”
“Ms. Modane has an extreme distaste for organized crime and is intolerant of even the possibility of involvement.”
“Is that it?”
“Processing… Utilizing strict semantic interpretation, that is all I know.”
“I’m sure that would mean an awful lot to me if I knew what you meant by ‘strict semantic interpretation.’”
“I mean that all additional information is speculative and cannot be strictly identified as knowledge.”
“Playing word games isn’t making me feel any better, Ma. Out with it.”
“Processing… Processing… In the past, you have requested that I not discuss certain matters with, or in the presence of, Ms. Modane. Would the present subtopic be considered one which should be discussed privately?”
“What does it matter?”
“She has completed her ablutions and will arrive in the cafeteria in approximately seventeen seconds.”
Lex scowled. “Well played, Ma. Masterful use of stalling.”
“Time management is one of my primary functions.”
A few moments later Michella pushed open the door and glanced uncertainly about before spotting Lex.
“There you are. It’s a little unnerving being in such a large facility without anyone in it. You’d expect it to be run-down, but it’s in perfect condition,” she said.
“Thank you. Maintenance is one of my primary functions.”
“She’s full of primary functions today,” Lex muttered.
“How does an AI maintain a facility?” Michella mused.
“I utilize a network of mobile maintenance arms.”
“Is the computer going to keep talking to me?”
“If you keep talking to or about her, yes.”
“You can more reliably receive answers regarding my intentions if you address those questions to me, Ms. Modane,” Ma said.
Michella frowned slightly. “Ma. Unless I addre
ss you directly, please assume I am speaking rhetorically or talking to Trevor.”
“Acknowledged,” Ma said.
Lex winced slightly, wondering if Ma would perceive that as a slight or not. He was tempted to encourage Michella to be more courteous, but a part of him was morbidly curious about how the two personalities would collide. Michella, meanwhile, merely glanced around the cafeteria, taking in the sights. Her first order of business was Squee.
“What’s this?” she asked, inspecting the cable protruding from Squee’s neck.
“Oh, that’s… uh… Ma, how would you describe this?” Lex said.
“The funk with the designation Squee has a minor asymptomatic neurological abnormality. Periodic treatment is sufficient to render the abnormality permanently asymptomatic,” Ma explained. “The first phase of such a treatment is now being applied.”
“Oh. Trevor said she’s been buying things through the slidepad. Does this mean she won’t be doing that anymore?” Michella asked. There was no answer. “Ma?”
“I apologize, Ms. Modane. I was uncertain if you were addressing me directly, and you’ve requested that I not respond otherwise. No. This treatment does not address behavioral abnormalities. As previously stated, the neurological issue being treated is asymptomatic. Asymptomatic: adjective. Of a condition or a person, producing or showing no symptoms. If you like, I can continue to provide definitions for complex terms from this point forward.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Michella said brusquely. She sat beside Lex. “Whoever programmed that system really needs to tweak the language she uses. That was almost insulting.”
“I don’t know,” Lex said with a smirk. “I think she’s got a way with words.”
A distinctive sequence of tones rang out over the loudspeakers, and Squee shook her head and looked around.
“Phase one of the procedure is complete. Phase two is initiating. In forty-five minutes it will be complete. At that time Squee will need to be sedated for a twenty-minute procedure to execute phase three.” The robotic arm, in two lightning-quick motions, removed the cable and restored the protective cover to Ma’s neck port.
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