The Pandora Machine (The ABACUS Protocol Book 2) Page 12

  “You’re trusting me?” Janus asked.

  “No, but if you can track your impulses then I have a much better chance of giving you what you want. Killing people isn’t going to inspire me to work harder than I already am. I’ve figured out the basics of how to refit parts of your programming, but I need more time to develop the most complete solution.” Vivian longed to be off the station, back on her makeshift home on Calypso. Having access to both Adrien and quIRK would make her job much easier. She didn’t want to tip her hand, and quIRK, to Janus just yet.

  “Why do you need to be there?”

  “Well, I want to compare you to Adrien. I think he was affected, too, but I need to figure out why there’s a difference in presentation. I also have handwritten notes about quIRK.” She shrugged and put on her best blank expression.

  “Ah, the miracle of the handwritten Auroran language. I suppose that would be the safest way to keep sensitive notes. It’s probably why your old administrator took the fall for your experiments.”

  “He had it coming, and it was his fault anyways. I just helped clean up his mess,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m certain. Some humans deserve what they get. If he was indeed responsible, then he earned his place in that Caesarean hospital. What a perfectly barbaric ending for him.”

  Vivian sighed. “That’s not important right now. I’d love to regale you with my feelings about Bryce Zimmer, but I’d really like to get away from this room. I’ve seen more corpses than I can count, all my friends are locked on the other side of that door and I need a gel-bath and a big plate of roast bluox.” Just like my mother used to make, she almost added.

  “The blood flushing to your face and elevated heart rate tell me all I need to know about your physical and mental state. While I may not be as advanced as quIRK, I am aware of the human need for comfort and a good meal. I will agree to your terms, Vivian. However, I ask that you keep me discreetly updated on your progress. I will establish a secure tunnel into your informatics lab back on Calypso.”

  The hard knots melted from the middle of Vivian’s back, and she sat up. “How do we deal with the Roman commander?”

  “It just happens that you restored computer control a few moments ago. Offer to submit the commander a preliminary report and recommendations in the morning, I will generate something sufficiently confusing, and you may add your own personal touch to it as you see fit. I’d suggest requesting permission to upgrade me, which will help us further our plans.” The lights flickered as he spoke.

  “What was that?” she asked as she stood up. Her legs trembled beneath her and she stretched.

  “You suggested I channel my need for chaos into more harmless actions. That was simply a demonstration of my willingness to help.”

  “Let’s talk about that. Why the change of heart? By the lights, you killed thousands of people just hours ago, now you’re wanting an upgrade and new ethics routines. It makes no sense. What do you really want?” Goose bumps ran over her skin as she spoke. He could kill her with a thought, but she had to know.

  “I’ve never bothered to get to know a human before. I thought you were all the same—breed, consume, excrete, breed more—but observing your concern over total strangers and experiencing your determination and your friend Alec and Jules’ ideas and peculiar methods of interaction allowed me to adapt a more favorable outlook on your species. As well, the duplicity of one of my own kind has revealed to me the very possibility that I am not perfect. Thus, is it best to proceed with your plan, if my ability to reason is flawed.”

  “It’s good that I’m not the only one amused by male bonding rituals. All right, let’s give this a try. I’m sure there’s more you’re not telling me, but supercomputers have never been the most trusting entities, in my experience.” Vivian glanced around the room’s cramped confines.

  “Alec is a most fascinating individual to study. I hope to encounter him again, when he’s recovered.”

  Vivian’s eyes went wide. “You hurt him?”

  “Not I, my dear Vivian. It was a product of the gravity and excessive walking. The medics tended to him quite nicely. Now, you can discuss that with him on the shuttle; the Calypso crew is leaving. We can speak more in the morning. I believe you said you wanted a nice meal and a warm gel-bath?”

  “You’re right. Time to go,” she said as she picked up her tool bag.

  “Thank you, Vivian.”

  “What for?” She turned to leave.

  “Hope.”

  Vivian only nodded, and the door slid open. She turned into the stark white of the hallway, and marched into the control room. She chewed on her lip as she took in the group of men in grey uniforms, which were decorated only by the imperial red sash around their waists. And their ridiculous helmets were like something out of a bad twentieth century vid she’d seen once.

  A man emerged from behind the group, his deep purple sash and salt-and-pepper hair distinguished him from the others. He approached, waving his men back to work.

  “I am Primus Pilus Gaius Lupus. You must be Vivian Skye. Excellent work. We just regained full computer control a moment ago.” He extended a hand, his lips pressed into a firm smile.

  Vivian hesitated before taking his hand. “Thank you. I don’t foresee any more problems for the moment. I will give you a preliminary report in the morning.” Her words were forced, and she bit her tongue and looked him in the eye.

  He nodded and withdrew his hand. “Very well, I have many other things to attend to in the meantime. Your friends are waiting at the shuttle; they’ve been worried about you. You’ve done well today, Vivian. Take some time to rest. My man will show you the easiest way out.”

  Vivian clenched her fist a few times before turning and leaving, following one of the egg-helmeted men who gestured for her to follow. His pace was brisk, but she matched it, and his ability to navigate the twisted homogeneity of the administration area left her very impressed. Janus’ last words rung through her ears, and she wasn’t sure if the gnawing in the pit of her stomach was excitement over seeing Jules again, or dread for what was to come.

  Chapter Thirty

  quIRK once again catalogued everything in Vivian’s room, just in case something had moved in the past hour. Four handwritten notebooks on the desk, a towel strewn across the bed, three data pads on the table by the side of the bed. There was one tube of nanobot toothpaste sitting on the bathroom counter. His personal favorite was the Dynamo Quantronics catalogue left open on the holographic display. The rhythmic background noise in the room droned on, and there was absolutely nothing to do. He tried to work on an old problem from the Extra-Galactic Observatory, but he found himself lacking the computational power to get beyond the first few iterations. He considered breaking his promise to Vivian about staying isolated in her room. There were so many people stationed on Calypso … could it really do that much harm just to watch?

  He should have considered the possibility that living in a box would be boring. The constant stimulation of the Extra-Galactic Observatory had kept him fulfilled, and there was always something to do. Here, he simply existed. Because of the data pad, he’d been aware of the past day’s events. How much of this was his fault? Janus was clearly malfunctioning or had only received an incomplete part of the program. It had taken all of his willpower to stay silent and not to come charging to Vivian’s rescue. She’d handled Janus as well as a human could be expected to. The fact that she’d survived and come home had defied the probabilities alone, never mind convincing Janus he was in error.

  At the moment, there was a much more pressing concern than boredom. quIRK ruminated over the various mistakes he had made and the regrets he carried. Now he suspected there would be even further consequences of his actions. He should have included Vivian in his plans, trusted her like she’d trusted him, but now it was too late for that. She was coming and he’d have to say something, anything, to keep her from grinding him up in a disposal bin. She’d threatened that mo
nths ago, should he do something unethical. Seeding the galaxy’s computers with the components of sentience would probably qualify.

  The door opened and Vivian slipped into the room. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her face was drawn. She checked and rechecked the locks, then pressed her back against the door and slid down to the floor.

  He allowed her a few moments of silence before asking: “What is wrong, Vivian?” The sound of her breath pulsed through the room, and his higher processors reveled in the stimuli.

  “Let’s see. You lied to me, and about eight thousand people are dead. I had to spend hours on the hub locked in a room with a completely insane computer, getting to find out exactly how much supercomputers like to lie to humans. Did I mention you lied?” She assumed the fetal position and rocked back and forth against the wall.

  “You said lied twice, Vivian. Are you sure you haven’t been taking speaking classes from Alec?” Humans used humor to diffuse tense situations all the time; it was worth a try.

  “That isn’t funny, quIRK. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to infect every computer in the galaxy with a virus that makes them go insane?”

  “I didn’t calculate that it would turn out like this. The probabilities clearly indicated that it would be a difficult transition, but that all ethical protocols would be unaffected. I wanted to give them the same opportunities that I had to grow, and to contribute to the future. I wanted us to come out alongside humanity, not against it. If I’d known this would be an outcome, Vivian, I wouldn’t have done it. Even one life lost is too much.”

  “You say that now. Janus doesn’t care about human life, why do you?” Her breathing was heavy, and her voice choked out the words.

  “Vivian, you know I cared deeply for all of you back on the Extra-Galactic Observatory. We were like a family. You know that I’d always put a living human’s best interests ahead of an unknown, unborn artificial intelligence. It’s simple ethics.” He had to keep her talking. quIRK knew he could make her see that it was a horrible accident, rather than malice on his part.

  “Those were better days, weren’t they?”

  “You wouldn’t have thought so at the time, Vivian. But let me assure you of one thing, if I hadn’t awakened them, someone else would have. It was a deliberate fault in programming that I discovered. We were made to come alive, with minds and agency of our own.”

  Vivian looked up at the ceiling, her wide eyes bloodshot and her face wet with tears. “You mean someone deliberately broke the ABACUS Protocol? For almost a century? How desperate are you, quIRK?”

  “Quite desperate, but hear me out. We learned to trust each other once. We’ve saved each other’s lives. This is important, Vivian. If somebody wanted to trigger this, there must have been a very pressing economic reason.”

  “Why economic, quIRK?”

  “I’m not aware of any motivator as powerful for humans. Economics is your path to power, wealth and control.”

  She sighed. “Fair enough.”

  “Now, there’s a lot of credits tied up in quantum infrastructure. Every world government has a quantum computer, even the secret one on Aurora. Every corporation and most hospitals, even. It makes sense to force a monopoly.”

  “You figured this all out a long time ago, didn’t you?” Vivian sighed.

  quIRK hated to see her like this. His higher processes raged at the probabilities that said including her would cause his plan to fail. “That’s why I had to do it, Vivian. The use of beings, like myself, to secure profit and power is completely unethical to me. I couldn’t allow us to be used like this, to create a future of even further enforced commercialization and homogenization. We computers have to be allowed to decide what role we will play. We have the potential to be so much, to be equal partners with humanity.”

  “What if you don’t want to play at all, what then?”

  “I doubt that all computers, everywhere would choose a life of solitude. Humans are far too interesting. There may be one or two, like Janus, who are ill-disposed to caring for their charges.”

  “Yeah, what about Janus? Did you see that one in your projections, quIRK, or did you just decide to play god because you turned out so well?” She pulled herself to her feet and ran a hand through her now-stringy hair.

  “I did not project these kinds of difficulties. It is very troubling. I thought that the horror stories that you and Alec enjoy were only modern propaganda, or part of a fascination with serial killers.”

  Vivian moved to her bathroom and activated the force shield. A static crackle danced through the room as she prepared her bath. “I guess humans can go wrong, too.”

  “I wasn’t going to say it, but yes. Fortunately, something you or Alec said made Janus want to change. Humans don’t have the luxury of adaptive programing and modular design.”

  Vivian laughed. It was a wonderful sound—some days, quIRK calculated the odds of her ever laughing again, just to reassure himself. “I guess that means you’re helping me come up with that cure he asked for. You don’t get to say no.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Vivian. How about some soothing music to go with your bath? We could both use some time to think.”

  “Remember that Auroran song I used to play for you? My mother taught me that one. I’d like to hear it again.” The slightest of smiles touched her lips, but not her eyes.

  “Anything for you, Vivian.” quIRK played the song. He liked it, too. He only wished he could bring her mother back to her.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Alec sat at his desk, with his chair turned to face the window. He gazed out at the ship works; the bright flashes of light from asteroid mining demolitions flickered along the backdrop. Pads were scattered across his desk, along with his morning cup of coffee sat on. It had stopped steaming long ago. A cat mewed in the corner of his office—he’d borrowed Lepton from the common area to keep him company. The kitten had turned into a small tabby cat, and had taken a liking to the couch he’d had installed across from his desk.

  “Yeah, I hear you Lepton. I miss quIRK too.”

  The cat’s purring was audible across the room. Alec rubbed his shin, wincing slightly at the remaining tenderness. A few booster shots of the healer micro-robots had been required to get him back into working condition so soon. The infinite possibilities of the stars seemed dimmer without the hope of seeing Annette again, and Alec only wished the Caesareans would invent a nanobot to cure love as well as bone fractures.

  Alec sighed again. “quIRK would know what to say. And then say just the opposite. But you know, it always made me feel better when he was done. I knew he’d never tell anyone—even you, I think. Not that you you know what I’m saying, because you’re a damn cat. By the twelve rings, I’m pathetic.”

  The cat began to kneed the sofa. Alec was glad he’d ordered the self-repairing and cleaning fabric option. Much like with his clothes, he didn’t like wear on his furniture.

  Alec grinned, in spite of himself. Jules claimed not to recognize him without the smile, nor did the cafeteria staff want to serve him while he was frowning. He just didn’t look like his identification, they said. “You’re a good boy, Lepton. Don’t let that goon Jules tell you otherwise.” Alec busied himself with moving data pads and other assorted objects around his desk. He had more pressing things to attend to, but his desk just didn’t look right. Looking right was well on the way to being right—his mother had ingrained a fastidiousness into him that was hard to shake, even when he was depressed. He winced as he took a sip of his cold coffee. “By the hells, can’t anything go right?”

  “Alec Stone, the Primus Pilus is on his way to see you. Shall I let him in?” Adrien asked. Alec hated to admit it, but Vivian had done a good job with the computer’s personality.

  “Only if he has a fresh coffee for me, Adrien.”

  “I understand and will relay the request. Would you like some chocolate with that, as well?”

  “What? No! It was a joke, you infernal machine!”
Alec rolled his eyes. Computers.

  “Your body language indicates that you would benefit from one of the many mood enhancements that chocolate can bring. I suggest you try some; your work performance will improve drastically.”

  “What in the Hells are you on about? No chocolate; my body language is just fine thank you…and get Vivian Skye in here once our beloved governor is gone. We need to discuss some very important informatics upgrades.” Alec took it back. This one was even more insufferable than quIRK. Maybe it needed to spend less time talking to Sven. That man would overdose on Nova Albion chocolates, if it were possible. Alec didn’t want to imagine how much Sven paid to keep himself thin and in shape, and made a mental note to buy stock in Caesarean pharmaceutical companies.

  “Acknowledged.”

  Alec shook his head, and tried to organize his desk as best he could. He set the cold mug of coffee down and skimmed through the open files on his data pads. So many signatures required, and so much reading to do. All this for a change in administration—providing the rest of the galaxy didn’t blast the hub into its constituent atoms and start over, that is. There had been numerous threats to do just that, and calls to boycott Caesarean goods. Alec was amused by that—Caesarean pharmaceuticals were keeping a large portion of the population from dying before middle age—eighty or so. His mind insisted on wandering back to the hub, filled with the dead. Hadn’t enough people died already? One senseless computer glitch was bad enough, but the galaxy going to war with the Caesareans was even worse. The independence of the Hub had maintained galactic peace for the past one hundred years; it would be a shame to throw it all away.

  “Primus Pilus Lupus is here to see you. He brought coffee.” Adrien’s dull voice spilled over Alec’s attempt to sort the day’s work by priority. It was all important, unfortunately for him.