by Greg Krojac
To an onlooker, it could look like the Icelander was pandering to Coppélia’s vanity, but Raef was actually reinforcing the android’s curiosity, a ‘serendipity mode’ that had taken thousands and thousands of man-hours to develop and to perfect. Coppélia had the ability to process and interpret information of which she had no prior knowledge; she could deduce or conclude information from evidence and reasoning rather than from instruction through her programming. She was as close to being human as a machine could be.
Karen was more concerned about another aspect of the project.
“How long do you expect Coppélia to stay on the planet?”
“We’re anticipating that she could gather useful information for about three years.”
“And then you’ll bring her back?”
“Coppélia cost billions of dollars to develop. The spacecraft cost billions of dollars. The supporting infrastructure here on Earth costs billions of dollars. Do you think we can afford to lose that kind of money?”
“I suppose not.”
Of the many jobs that she had been placed in, Coppélia had never been an explorer, and the opportunity appealed to her.
They left the Control room and Raef led them down another maze of corridors before entering a spacious chamber, whose central area was occupied by a large object. He looked expectantly at Karen but wasn’t rewarded by her reaction. She seemed underwhelmed.
“It’s a sphere.”
Raef countered.
“It’s a big sphere, Five metres in diameter. And much more than that too.”
“Still looks like a giant ball-bearing.”
He beckoned Karen to follow him to the other side of the spacecraft.
“Take a look at the other side.”
She walked around to the other side of the spacecraft, hoping to see something that might take her breath away. All she saw was a porthole, about 1 metre in diameter, and a plaque underneath on which were inscribed the words.
‘Because it’s there… Proxima b’s existence is a challenge. The answer is instinctive, a part, I suppose, of man’s desire to conquer the universe.’
Karen read the words to herself.
“What’s that all about then?”
“It’s a paraphrase of something a 20th century mountaineer, George Mallory, said when a journalist asked him why he wanted to climb Mount Everest.”
“Did he succeed?”
“Well, no. He died on his third attempt.”
“Doesn’t bode well for your expedition, does it?”
A stepladder was brought over for Karen to use so that she could peek through the porthole. She climbed up it and peered into the sphere.
“Not much inside really, is there? A few monitor screens, A hologram projector and that’s about it really. Not even a chair to sit on.”
Raef looked at Karen incredulously.
“Why on earth would she need a chair? Coppélia’s an android. She doesn’t get tired. She doesn’t need to rest her aching limbs. Next, you’ll want us to put in a bathroom she won’t use or stock up a larder with things she won’t eat.”
Karen felt a little foolish.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Raef’s tone softened.
“Don’t worry about it. Forgetting that Coppélia is a machine is natural, especially when she looks so human. But she won’t get bored – if an AI can get bored. It’s critical to the final objective of the project, that she keeps her curiosity. She’ll have plenty of science experiments to perform and learning projects. Of course, we could simply download everything she needs or wants to know but it suits both us and her if she learns things rather than simply accesses a database. It seems crazy to create limitations for the most powerful AI on the planet, but we’ll get our rewards when she lands on Proxima b. The last thing we want is for her to arrive at the planet and give us a sterile, purely factual report on what she finds. The whole point of this trip is for us to be able to relate emotionally to what she tells us. We can’t send a human astronaut, not just because of the time it will take to get to the planet, but because a human wouldn’t last more than a few seconds on the surface. That’s why we’re sending Coppélia – think of her as a surrogate who’ll bring a near human perspective to the experience.”
Coppélia interrupted Raef’s guided tour.
“I’d like a chair. Please.”
Raef agreed to install a chair. Karen didn’t like to admit it, but she was simultaneously impressed with and sceptical about the project.
“So where’s the rest of the spaceship? Surely it’s not just the ball-bearing?”
“Correct. That’s just the living quarters. The main spacecraft is already up there.”
“Up where?”
Raef pointed upwards.
“Up there. It’s been assembled in orbit. Unfortunately, it’s impractical to do it down here on Earth. Much better to take the pod up to the ship.”
Karen wondered why Raef was telling her – in fact showing her – all this. This was obviously a highly confidential project. Surely they were taking an enormous risk.
“So where do I fit in?”
“I was waiting for you to ask that, Karen. The thing is, we believe we’ve created as close to a human as it’s possible to get, without actually being human. Without knowing it, you’ve been integral – dare I say critical – to this later stage of the project. You’ve become friends with Coppélia and she, in turn, interacts with you much more closely than anyone else she’s come in contact with.”
“How do you know? This is the first time you’ve met me.”
Raef felt a little uncomfortable about what he was about to say.
“You’re not going to like this.”
Now Karen was concerned.
“Try me. You may be surprised.”
Raef knew that she had a right to know.
“It’s Coppélia’s eyes.”
“What about her eyes?”
“They’re not just eyes. They also contain miniscule high-definition cameras which record everything that happens to her, everything she sees. It’s important for us – for the project – to monitor every aspect of her assimilation into society.”
“Everything?”
Raef looked sheepish.
“Everything, I’m afraid.”
“But Coppélia removed the cameras in her eyes.”
“Not the back-up cameras that she didn’t know about.”
Karen’s mood changed, remembering the parts of that drunken evening that she was able to remember. Her eyes hardened.
“You spied on me without my permission. How dare you! How the fucking hell dare you! I bet you had a great laugh passing the video around the offices.”
Raef knew that he wasn’t handling the situation particularly well.
“Look. I’m sorry, I really am. But if it helps at all – and I know it probably doesn’t – only three people view the videos. And I’m not one of them. As soon as we knew that Coppélia was staying with you, we put a team of three women on the observation team. They’re incredibly discreet and only report on relevant occurrences. They were more concerned with the android’s reactions and interactions than anything you may or may not have done. It’s Coppélia who was being studied. Not you.”
“So you knew where she was all the time?”
“Of course.”
“So why didn’t you just come and fetch her? All this kidnapping stuff was totally unnecessary.”
“Not at all. Your relationship gave us valuable data about how she interacts with humans.”
By now, Karen’s rage was receding a little but not enough to drive away the entire fury she felt in her veins.
“I should arrest you all, right now.”
“I’m afraid you can’t do that, even if you wanted to.”
Raef immediately regretted those words, knowing that they’d do nothing to calm her down. If looks could kill, Raef would have been taking his last breath.
“Why the hell
not? I’m a police officer.”
Raef winced, preparing for the next tirade.
“We’re out of your jurisdiction.”
“How can that be?”
Raef might have been a visionary and technical genius, but he wasn’t the most tactful person on the planet. His answer was more of a timid question.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore?”
Nothing could be gained by flying completely off the handle, so Karen attempted to calm herself down by holding the palms of her hands outwards, stretching her fingers, and breathing slowly. Once she felt a little more in control of herself she continued.
“So, where are we?”
“Chile.”
Karen could hear her brain telling her to keep calm; nothing could be gained by losing her temper.
“Chile. Right. Of course we are. Why Chile?”
“It’s the best place to observe the planet from.”
Karen pointed to a swivel chair by the door. It would usually be occupied by a member of the security staff, but Raef had cleared the room, leaving only himself, Karen, and Coppélia with the space-pod.
“I need to sit down.”
Raef was grateful that the shouting had died down.
“Of course.”
Karen took a seat and composed herself, before dropping into police-speak and clarifying the situation for herself.
“Let me get this straight. I unwittingly became part of your space project when I met Coppélia. You then observed how we interacted with each other. This was all to do with her learning process, which is paramount to the success of a space mission to a planet called Proxima b, which isn’t even in our solar system.”
“Yes, but –.”
“Hush. I’m still speaking.”
“Sorry.”
“You then drug me and kidnap me, flying me halfway around the world to a secret James Bond villain’s hideout somewhere in Chile, where you then explain to me all about the aforementioned space mission, Coppélia’s role in it, and you even show me the spaceship. Is that about right?”
“All except the James Bond villain bit, yes. This is actually an international government sponsored and funded research HQ.”
Karen nodded her head once.
“Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. Can I go home now?”
Raef looked apologetic.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.”
“What do you mean? Some kind of ‘I’ve told you now I have to kill you’ thing?”
“No. Of course not. We haven’t killed anyone and we don’t intend to start now.”
Raef was feeling more in control of the situation now, which he hadn’t done whilst Karen had been venting her anger and confusion. There was a flickering of light in front of the three and a hologram swirled into life. It spoke in a calm and controlled manner.
“Miss Chambers.”
Karen had definitely not been expecting this, and her anger subsided.
“Mr Prime Minister.”
The Prime Minister was secretly relieved that she had recognised him. He didn’t trust holograph technology to show him in the best of lights. He continued.
“Miss Chambers. I see you now know our little secret.”
Karen thought to herself that the secret was anything but little.
“Miss Chambers. I know it’s a lot to take in at such short notice, but I have a special task for you – a task which I hope you will accept – a task that nobody else but you can do.”
“Of course Sir. Anything.”
The Prime Minister was pleased to hear Karen’s answer. He was confident that she would accept – everything in her personnel file and personal history had led him to believe that this would be the case – but it was important to hear it from her own lips.
“I’m placing you on secondment to Syber Android Industries as a liaison officer.”
Karen wasn’t sure that she understood correctly.
“Liaison officer? Who would I be liaising with, Prime Minister?”
Coppélia, who had been silent until now, had been downloading information about the mission to visit Proxima b.
“You’ll be liaising with me, Karen. I’d really like that. I like having a friend.”
Karen wasn’t sure about this new development. She addressed the Prime Minister directly.
“With respect, Prime Minister, I don’t know if I’m qualified for this.”
Raef interjected.
“You’re the only one who is qualified, Karen. You and the android have an important connection, the like of which we haven’t seen with anyone else.”
“But what about my job?”
The Prime Minister and Raef both began to speak simultaneously. Raef gave way to the hologram, believing that the Prime Minister would be much more likely to persuade Karen to come on board than the entrepreneur himself would be.
“I can guarantee that you’ll find helping with this project far more satisfying than performing sexdroids audits and catching the occasional unlicensed kindbot user. You are the only person who can do this particular job.”
Coppélia’s innocence and excitement was infectious, and Karen felt herself warming to the idea. It was obvious that Coppélia’s destiny was to head out into the cosmos, whether Karen was involved or not. Raef and the Prime Minister were right; the only way to describe the relationship between the police officer and the android was as a friendship. To go back to her old life and try to forget about Coppélia would be nigh on impossible. She would miss the android. She’d miss her friend.
“But what about the Unit?”
The Prime Minister smiled.
“Don’t worry about it. We plan to increase manpower and split your Sexdroid Unit into two separate branches, with newly-promoted DIs Toby Baxter and Rachel Foster each in charge of one. Things are already in motion, as we speak.”
Coppélia looked at Karen with the android equivalent of a pleading spaniel.
“Please say yes, Karen. I know I’ll be alone out there in space, but it’ll be more bearable knowing that I have you to talk to.”
Karen looked at her android friend. How could she refuse? Coppélia was more than an android to her – she was a person. She had feelings, desires, she felt happiness and sorrow, she understood and could express the beauty of the world around her. Surely that’s what being a human was about? How could Karen say no? She’d made her decision. She’d call Rachel in the morning – or should she say Detective Inspector Foster – to congratulate her on her promotion and reassure her that they wouldn’t lose touch. She’d see her as often as she could.
She turned and gave Coppélia the strongest hug that she had ever given anyone in her life.
“Of course I will, Coppélia. Of course I will.”
13
Karen had to admit that she was enjoying life in Chile. She’d been provided with a beautiful villa, complete with orchards and swimming pool, and SAI were showing their further appreciation by paying her an extremely handsome salary – far more than she required for day to day living. Food was good, the weather was mostly good, the people were very friendly, and the instant translation software that had been patched into her Telepathic Implant Software was a godsend. She’d started Spanish lessons but until she felt more confident, the patch meant that she could still fend for herself. She had even been given the latest VertiCar Hopper Executive, a model normally reserved for government officials.
The orbital construction and the testing of the recently enhanced Variable Specific Impulse Magnetoplasma Rocket (VASIMR) which would carry the space-pod to Proxima b had run a little behind schedule, and corrections had been made to the flightpath to allow for the new coordinates of the planet. Without international cooperation and funding, the project would have been dead in the water, but the scientific world and, surprisingly, numerous individual national governments were wholeheartedly in favour of the idea and a new spirit of cooperation was born. The next step was to capture the minds of society at large a
nd a number of well-timed film documentaries were broadcast which looked back to the Apollo 11 manned moon landing way back on 20th July, 1969, when Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin first stepped out of the Lunar Module onto the surface of the Moon, and the more recent manned Mars landings which led to the first off-world colonies being established. Through research performed for the Mars Colonisation Project, VASIMR technology had experienced an unexpected and serendipitous breakthrough, which in turn led to the capability of the latest VASIMR propulsion unit to reach a velocity of 30% light-speed.
This was the catalyst for Project Coppélia. Instead of needing hundreds or even thousands of years of travel to reach the closest exoplanet, the journey time could be reduced to a couple of decades or so. The initial idea was to send a pre-programmed wheeled vehicle, similar to the Curiosity Rover that had landed on Mars on 6th August 2012 but when famed technology entrepreneur Raef Ulfursson approached the directors of the rather unimaginatively named Curiosity Rover Redux Project with his plans to construct a sentient humanoid android, somebody in a position of influence remembered seeing an old Neil deGrasse Tyson video which debated the question of whether to send robots or people on space missions. Thus Project Coppélia was born.
Coppélia and Karen had become almost inseparable. Neighbours simply thought that the two were ‘that nice lesbian couple’ who lived at the lake’s edge. Nobody could possibly have imagined that one of the women was actually the most advanced android on the planet.
Until Project Coppélia became common knowledge, that is.
A project of such stature, the landing of a spacecraft on an exoplanet for the first time in the history of mankind, wasn’t something that could – or even should – remain a secret forever. People loved the idea of a sentient android describing her feelings and sensations as she stepped onto the surface of Proxima b, and Coppélia received the interest and adulation that was normally reserved for big movie stars or rock stars. Security was stepped up of necessity, for there was some opposition, but, for the most part, she was widely accepted. She was in great demand for online hologram interviews answering questions about the project, her thoughts, hopes, and her expectations. And her social media pages were followed by six billion people, half the world’s population. Humanity was going to land on a planet beyond our solar system, and billions of people would enjoy the experience through Coppélia’s eyes and words.