Artificial Absolutes (Jane Colt Book 1) Page 34

  Devin lingered in the doorway. He reminded himself that any expressions of distress on Adam’s face meant nothing. Like Sarah, Adam was just a robot who could express emotions without experiencing them. Still, it was hard to help feeling bad for the kid—his movements were so realistic. Devin recalled Adam’s reaction to his discovery, how he’d trembled and kept his pleading eyes fixed on Jane.

  “I didn’t know,” he’d repeated. “I swear. I’m so sorry…”

  Jane, always the type to deny the hard truth, had been all too willing to believe the act. She’d put a hand on Adam’s arm and done her best to comfort him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you’re synthetic or what. Hell, you could be a ghost with no body at all for all I care. We were friends before, and I’m still your friend now. Friends don’t abandon each other. You said that to me, and I won’t let a stupid thing like mechanics get in the way.”

  Adam had looked down at his shoulder. “I— I’m sorry. I’m not…”

  Jane’s expression turned to impatience. “Not what? Real? What the hell does real mean anyway?” She put a hand on Adam’s cheek. “I see your face, the light in your eyes. I hear your voice, all the meanings behind it. I don’t care what the rest is made of! You can’t help the way you were made. No one can! We might as well all be mechanical. There are people who have replaced every other organ, who have remolded their faces and reshaped their bodies—people full of synthetic parts. Hell, we see new reports every day about how this chemical controls our emotions or that substance affects our decisions, how most of who we are is printed in our genes. Who’s to say that we’re not all programmed, designed, engineered? So I don’t want to hear it, Adam!”

  Adam had nodded, but the pained look remained. “I swear, Jane, I didn’t know.” It had been so convincing. No wonder Jane had bought it. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve bought it too.

  Devin remained by the living quarters. The poor kid seemed shattered. Pandora must have made some changes since creating Sarah, who had appeared unfazed by the truth. The afternoon Adam had been taken, Sarah had seen the scanner results revealing her synthetic nature. She had played dumb, as if she didn’t understand what the document meant. Only later had Devin realized that had to be how Pandora found out he knew Sarah to be an AI: She knew what Sarah knew.

  Did Pandora know what Adam knew as well? Devin had thought to leave Adam on Uyfi Float, but the idea had seemed so wrong that he’d quickly pushed it away. He couldn’t betray Jane like that. To her, he wouldn’t have been removing a threat; he would have been abandoning someone she cared deeply about. He’d rather risk Pandora’s wrath than his sister’s.

  Adam looked down at the Via pendant and held it to his heart. Did it represent the Absolute or Jane, who had pressed it into his palm right after her speech?

  “Remember what you once told me?” she had said. “About how we think and decide on a higher level, and anything physical adjusts to reflect that?” She had closed Adam’s hand around the pendant. “That’s what matters, and the rest means nothing.”

  Devin, impatient with himself, turned away. How can the pendant represent anything? He’s a machine.

  Jane would sock him if she could read his thoughts. As far as Devin could tell, nothing had changed for her. It was as though the facts had confronted her with a roar, and she’d shrugged in response. She’d done her best to wake Adam from the silent daze he’d entered, telling him time and time again that he was who he was—to hell with the rest.

  But she hadn’t seen Pandora’s test program, how every nuance—even the elements of what might be called a soul—could be simulated. Sarah was more real to Devin than most people he knew, only to be revealed as the product of a brilliant deception, one that cast him off as a liability and did its best to erase him. The same was probably true of Adam—and what would happen to Jane the day she realized he, too, was an empty act?

  “You’re an idiot,” she’d snapped when he brought the matter up. “I don’t know what they did when they made him, but he’s as real as you and me.”

  “That’s what I thought about Sarah,” Devin had said. “There was nothing, nothing to indicate she was anything other than what she appeared to be. She was empathetic, passionate, intuitive… Dammit, Jane, I fell in love with her, only to discover she’s an elaborate illusion. What if Adam’s the same?”

  “He’s not. He saved your life, Devin! I shouldn’t have to explain this to you! Stop being an ass!”

  After that, Devin kept his concerns to himself, opting not to say anything rather than risk expressing something he’d come to regret. Every time he looked at Adam, he tried to alter his perception, to see him as the mechanical being he really was. Every time, the loudest part of his psyche told him the kid was as much a person as he was, and that his reservations were unfounded and probably cruel.

  Why the hell am I still here? Devin started back toward the cockpit. Adam looked up at him with a start, his expression frightened.

  Devin stopped. Fuck. What’s wrong with me?

  The kid had defied reason and risked everything to save his life. If he continued trying to see Adam as an anthropomorphic mirage, maybe he was the one without a soul. He stepped into the room. “Hey, Adam. I… wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “Why do you care?” Adam’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m just a machine.”

  “Jane doesn’t believe that.” Devin studied Adam’s face. “Neither do I.”

  “I heard what you said about what Kron showed you. Sarah’s a combination of physical movements—an illusion, as you said.” Adam’s gaze fell. “You think I’m the same.”

  Devin considered laying out the reasons he no longer believed that. Instead, he asked, “Are you?”

  Adam shook his head. “I know there’s no way to prove I’m any different.”

  “You must be. Pandora wouldn’t have taken you otherwise.” Pandora didn’t want her AI gaining independence. Damn, even she knew he’s… sentient.

  “I was recalled, wasn’t I?” Adam’s tone carried a trace of disgust. “I’m a faulty product. That’s why she took me, why she put me in a box and left me in a warehouse. I’m a machine created by a computer, and I’m broken. I wonder where my replacement is, what he’s like.”

  Devin contemplated how Pandora’s logic might work. “I don’t think she’s created one yet. You wouldn’t be here if she had. I think she had to take you when she did because you disrupted her plans.”

  “I was a very disobedient robot,” Adam said dryly. “All those strange urges I ignored? I wasn’t drugged. That was Pandora sending me commands, trying to control me.” He looked down at his shoulder and felt the burnt synthetic skin of his wound. “What the hell am I?”

  You’re the brave kid who saved both Jane’s life and mine. And I’m the bastard who treated you like shit. Devin approached and sank to the floor beside Adam. “Tell me, has finding out what you are changed anything? Have you lost the ability to think or to care?”

  Adam shook his head again. “I feel the same. I still… remember my childhood on Ibara, what it was like to admire the Counselors who raised me and to want to be like them. I remember, even though I know it never happened. I still look to the Absolute Being, even though I know…” He trailed off and looked at the ground.

  “Then, nothing’s really different, is it? Jane said every one of us is a consciousness shoved into physical being, and what that being’s made of isn’t important. I think she’s right.” Devin paused. “I’m sorry if I’ve been… less than kind. It’s nothing personal.”

  Adam turned the pendant in his hand. “She keeps acting like none of this matters.”

  “She means it, Adam. You know she never hides how she feels. Not when it matters.”

  Adam’s face brightened. “That’s true. It’s one of things I love about her. How i
s that possible? That I can… that an AI can… feel? Do I even have a soul?”

  Devin shrugged. “You’re the religious one. You tell me: Would your Absolute Being abandon you because of something you can’t change?”

  A humorless smile played on the corner of Adam’s mouth. “You’re right. Who am I to question the Absolute? We’re all the way we are for a reason. Maybe I was created to start a machine revolution and bring on the AI apocalypse.”

  Is that supposed to be funny? “Jane never doubted you, so stop doubting yourself.”

  Adam leaned his head back. “Somehow that makes it worse, that she’s so… accepting. I always knew… But it doesn’t matter. I… I’d do anything for her, even though she could never…”

  Devin didn’t know how to respond. He waited in uncomfortable silence for Adam to continue.

  After a minute or so, Devin collected his thoughts. “She cares about you. I don’t think she realizes how much. She’s been this way since she was little: never knowing what she wants, always battling her feelings, guarding herself. She knows how vulnerable she can be. She’s been close to so few people that… she doesn’t know how to handle it.”

  “She’s probably the only person in the galaxy who would give a damn about me now.” The frightened look crossed Adam’s face again. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “Same thing that would’ve happened if you hadn’t been shot. No one else has to know.”

  Jane called from the cockpit, “Hey, Devin! What’s going on back there? Is the ship okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Devin got up and started to leave, then looked back. “Everything’s going to be all right. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I wish I could believe you.” Adam closed his hand around the Via pendant and gazed into nothingness.

  The counterfeit Blue Tang’s untraceable nature allowed Devin to cross the galaxy quietly. No one cared when he steered the ship into the Zim’ska Re system, whose two more populous planets, Mor’sei and Nem, were too engaged in a space battle to notice his little ship as it sailed past them toward Yim Radel, which was mostly uninhabited.

  The moment he landed, Jane rushed out of the cockpit, opened the door, and ran down the ramp into the remote meadow the ship sat in. She regarded the lush, colorful forest and sweeping mountains with childlike wonder. Platinum clouds and the magnified form of the planet’s twin, C’tui, shone in the sky as the blue-hot Zim’ska Re sun sank in a shimmering blaze of light and color.

  “See, Devin?” Jane said. “Wouldn’t you rather hide out here than on some rundown float?”

  Devin smiled. “As nice as you expected?”

  “Better. It’s one of the things you have to see for yourself, you know? Holograms, videos, pictures—they can’t capture the real thing.” She cupped her hands by her mouth. “Adam! Stop moping around the ship and come see this!”

  Adam appeared at the door. “It’s beautiful, Jane. It’s like the Absolute is in that sunset.”

  Jane ran up the ramp toward him. “Hey, he talks! You were starting to scare me with the whole still-and-silent thing.”

  Adam gave her a sad smile. “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  The sun disappeared behind the mountains. It took with it the warm flush of daylight and left behind the haunting glow of the night. The only artificial light came from the ship’s door. The full form of blue-green C’tui illuminated the sky with an ethereal radiance that obscured the stars.

  Devin’s slate beeped.

  Corsair: Check out the Collective’s forums.

  He followed the links. A firestorm brewed on the Net. Riley had recorded everything Jim X had said about the Pandora Project. In the two days it took to reach Yim Radel, half the Networld had seen the video. Pandora tried to block its dissemination, but Citizen Zero had become more resourceful at spreading information that others didn’t want seen.

  Although many met the revelation with skepticism, the most influential members of the Collective had decided the notion of No Name being a sentient program made too much sense to ignore. They’d found the connection between artificial intelligence and the murdered programmers from ten years ago.

  Corsair: As soon as I released the video, other demons shared their own evidence of Pandora’s existence. It’s not exactly proof, but it’s close enough for most. The Collective’s furious that Kron used them and that their friends died because of what he did. They’re teaming up with other Netcrews and brainstorming ways to wipe her out.

  Archangel: Good.

  Corsair: They’re also working with the Seer to track her activities. They may be able to prove she’s responsible for the attacks on Revelin Kron and Victor Colt.

  Archangel: I hope so.

  Corsair: Here’s the best bit: They’ve made so much noise about Pandora, the IC Tech Council ordered an investigation. It’d be awfully embarrassing if someone defied the regulations so completely without some sort of crackdown. I’ll let you know when I have more info.

  Devin folded the slate and dropped it in his pocket.

  Although he and Riley had considered exposing the presence of the AIs along with the truth about No Name, finding out about Adam had done away with that notion. After all the hell Pandora caused, the secret of her AIs would be kept, and she’d get what she’d wanted in the first place.

  “But don’t people have a right to know?” Riley had asked Devin via video transmission the day before. “We could leave Uh-Dame out.”

  “It’s a bad idea,” Devin had replied. “Telling the Networld anyone could be synthetic would cause mass paranoia.”

  “But isn’t it kinda unfair? I mean… Uh… Other law students don’t stand a chance because of that Jonathan King dude. He was built to beat them.”

  Jane gave Riley an artificially sweet smile. “Riley, keep this AI business to yourself or I will kill you.”

  “It’s gonna come out eventually!” Riley protested. “You can’t keep something like this hidden forever.”

  “Maybe, but ‘eventually’ had better not be because of you. And if I find out it is, I’ll hunt you down and kick your scrawny ass!”

  “Okay! I’ll keep a lid on it! Man, you’re violent!”

  Adam had watched the exchange in silence. Devin had noticed a flicker of a smile at Jane’s exaggerated threats.

  In the meadow on Yim Radel, Devin looked over at his sister, who sat surrounded by luminous purple flowers, marveling at the sky. Beside her, Adam regarded the heavens with the same silent awe. Devin wondered if Pandora even understood the life she’d created.

  Jane looked over at him. “Hey, Devin! Were you messaging Riley?”

  “Yeah. The Collective and some other Netcrews are trying to figure out how to stop Pandora.”

  “Excellent. I hope they destroy every shred of it.”

  Adam’s hand drifted to his injured shoulder. “Maybe I can help? After all, I’m also… an artificial intelligence. They could… look at my… programming… if I could… get onto the Net—”

  “Forget it,” Jane snapped. “That’s just… Forget it!”

  “I’m probably the only one who knows what I am. I might as well try and use it. She’s killed so many people already, and I want to stop her.”

  “Ugh, I still don’t get why you guys keep referring to that programmed monstrosity as if it’s a person.”

  A pained look crossed Adam’s face.

  “You’re different!” Jane said hurriedly. “Hell, you’re more human than most humans! I mean it, Adam. You’re the one good thing to come out of this mess, and I don’t want you doing anything that’ll put you in danger.”

  “All I want is to interface with the Net,” Adam said. “It’s nothing, really. Riley does it all the time.”

  Devin thoug
ht the kid’s idea courageous but unfeasible. “Virtual reality requires a lot of equipment that reads brainwaves and the like. We don’t have any of that, and even if we did, it wouldn’t be the same with you.”

  Adam thought for a moment. “Maybe Riley will have some ideas?”

  Archangel: I have a question.

  Corsair: Careful. She could be watching. Keep things vague or hide them in codes.

  Damn. Codes aren’t exactly my expertise.

  Archangel: Is it possible for a gamer like Adam to enter the Kingdom?

  Hope that worked. Klash of Kingdoms was Riley’s favorite virtu-game. He probably understood the reference to the Networld. Adam was such a common name—it could refer to anyone.

  Devin waited for a response. He could almost see Riley fidgeting, flipping through his brilliant little brain for ideas.

  Corsair: She sent commands and updates through the Net, so it should be possible. I’ll contact the junk dealer. He seems to know a lot about all this.

  The next two days were spent lying low, living off the ship’s well-stocked pantry of imperishable space food and watching as events unfolded on the Net. Riley told Devin, using an odd form of code, that Commander Vega bent some rules and re-investigated the cases against him. The best thing for him to do was remain disappeared.

  Devin sat in the meadow, along with Jane and Adam, several yards from the ship. He watched a hologram of Sarah telling an interviewer why she loved her art, using the same words and tones as when she’d once told Devin. Even though he knew she was no more real than an animated character, he couldn’t help projecting a kind of humanity onto her. She was designed to be indistinguishable from humans. He wanted to forget she existed, but the version of her he knew had become a part of him. He wondered how he could find it in himself to accept that she was gone forever.