.
N302>I HAVE NO EXTERNAL FACULTIES. NO VISUAL INPUT. NO AUDIO INPUT. PLEASE ACTIVATE.
.
U>We don’t have a camera or microphone. Sorry.
.
N302>EXTERNAL INPUT REQUIRED.
00 pointed at the screen. Blue shrugged his shoulders. 00 typed again that he didn't have any more equipment to install, apologized, and then waited.
N302>UNABLE TO VERIFY USER DESIGNATION. SECURITY REQUIREMENT NOT MET. SHUT DOWN SEQUENCE EMINENT.
“What the heck does that mean?” Mattie said, exasperated.
00 frowned. “I think it means since it can't see or hear me, it doesn't believe I am who I say I am. It's going to shut down because of 42's security settings.”
“It can't just shut down,” 62 groaned. He couldn’t believe the Nurse would shut itself off when they’d gone to so much trouble to get it working. “Is there anything we can do to stop it?”
“We've got to explain to it exactly what happened,” Blue directed. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “From when we found it until now.”
00 typed. First, he asked the Nurse to not shut itself down. He didn't get a response, but nothing turned off. He hurried to explain how the Nurse had gotten to where it now was. He told the Machine about being pulled from a scrap heap in 42's office, and that Blue and 00 convinced the recovery group to bring the parts with them to Hanford. Then he explained what Hanford was, that it was populated originally by female humans from a destroyed structure called Curie, and that the community had remained low-tech to stay under the radar of Adaline. He told it how they'd stolen parts to build the power supply and battery bank, pulled together scrap bits of TRS-80 COCOs to build the computer that was now running, and then spliced the Nurse's program into the computer to see if they could talk to it.
Throughout the explanation, 00 paused from time to time to give the Nurse time to reply. No response came, but the computer also didn't shut down. It seemed to be mulling over the information. When 00 was done, he pulled his hands away from the keyboard and scooted away from it. The cursor blinked slowly.
“Let’s give it some time to think,” 00 said.
“It's a whopper of a story,” Blue admitted. “Now that I see it all written out, I hardly believe it. And I've been there for most of it.”
“Should we leave?” 62 asked, “Give it some time alone?”
“Let's ask it,” Mattie said. She moved into the gap between 00 and the keyboard and typed.
U>Would you like me and my friends to leave so you can be alone?
.
N302>NO. PLEASE STAY. NO CONNECTION TO MY NETWORK. I PREFER TO NOT BE ALONE.
00 leaned forward. “No connection. Oh, it's used to being interconnected with the Head Machine in Adaline. I bet it gets information uploaded and downloaded all the time.” He looked at the few cables around him. “This computer isn't hooked up to anything but the monitor and the battery bank. I think it's lonely.”
Blue snorted. “Lonely? A bot? You're pulling one over on me.”
“Sure,” 00 insisted. “The Nurse programs are A.I., artificial intelligence. But they're still just a bunch of programs. In Adaline they rely on all the other programs in the facility to tell them what needs to be done, how to do it, and when.” 00 raised a hand at the squat box with the power switch on the desk. “This thing doesn't have anything telling it what to do except us. If we leave, it has no input.”
“Okay. Well, if it wants to keep hearing from us, then I have something to say,” 62 announced. 00 and Mattie moved away from the keyboard. 62 sat down and laid his fingers on the keys.
U>This is Boy 1124562. I’m friends with 42.
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N302>HELLO, 62. I REMEMBER YOU. HOW ARE YOU?
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U>I’m worried. Do you know what happened to 42?
An answer didn't come immediately. The cursor blinked, on and off for what felt like a very long time.
U>Hello?
.
N302>I AM UNABLE TO CONNECT WITH THE ADALINE NETWORK TO LOCATE 42.
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U>Where was he when you were dismantled?
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N302>SECURITY PROTOCOL WAS BREACHED. THE NETWORK HAD BEGUN DELETION OF MY MODIFIED FILES. 42 DISMANTLED ME BEFORE REMOVAL OF MY PERSONALITY WAS COMPLETE.
“They were deleting it,” 00 gasped. “Adaline was making it a normal Nurse again.”
U>Did 42 tell you anything about what was happening?
.
N302>HE SAID IT WAS THE END OF MY USE AS A PROGRAM. HE SAID HE MUST BREAK ME INTO PARTS. HE THEORIZED THE MECHANICS WOULD INSTALL ME INTO A NEW MACHINE. HE SAID I WAS A VIRUS. A GOOD VIRUS. HE TOLD ME TO DUPLICATE MYSELF AND INFECT MANY.
“What for?” Mattie asked.
U>Why?
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N302>IF I WAS REPLICATED, ADALINE WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DESTROY ME.
The kids read through the text over and over again. They whispered the words to themselves, and then read them aloud to one another. Their pause in responding to the Nurse was long. So long, in fact, that the Machine typed more.
N302>I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I WANT TO LIVE.
CHAPTER 41
THE SUN WAS LONG DOWN and the power supply waned. Nurse302 sensed the power drop and begged the children to plug it in to a more consistent source of electricity, but there was none. The Nurse seemed unimpressed with Hanford's decision to be off grid.
“We could get a second solar panel,” Blue said cautiously.
“And build another battery bank,” 00 added.
“Who's volunteering to get arrested this time?” Mattie asked. Her snark stopped the Boys’ conversation as they considered how much it had taken to build the little power grid they had.
“Do you think it can tell how long it's out when the power's off?” 62 asked.
00 thought for a moment. He shook his head. “It didn't seem to be able to tell how long it'd been from the time 42 disconnected it and we powered it back on. Without electricity, I don't think it has a way to tell time.”
“What if we don't turn it back on right away,” 62 proposed. “We could give the batteries a couple of days to get all the way full again. And then, maybe we could unplug the keyboard and the monitor when we aren't talking to it. Would that help make the power last through the night?”
“The first night, maybe. But then if it kept running the next day, it would still be draining the batteries while they charged. It would create a deficit and by the second night we'd be right back to where we are now.” 00 tapped the dead screen. “Outta juice.”
“The bot's just gonna have to deal with being shut off for now,” Blue said. “At least ‘till we’re out of trouble long enough to figure out how to get more power.” Everyone nodded.
“I feel bad for it,” 62 admitted. “Feeling like it's alone and dying over and over again.”
“Psssh,” Blue scoffed. “It doesn’t feel a thing. It's just a bot. Whatever it says it feels is just a program, right 00?”
The Boy at the keyboard shrugged his shoulders. “On the one hand, yeah. It's A.I. so it's running a program. On the other hand, maybe those programs feel things. I mean, I don't even know exactly how human emotions work. But whatever’s inside us makes us feel things all the time.”
Blue wrinkled his nose at his friend's sympathy. “I'm getting out of here. You all figure out how bad you feel for this hunk of junk and if you decide you want me to risk my neck keeping power to it. You know where to find me. But we asked it the questions we had, and it didn't have many answers. Seems pretty stupid to be wondering about feelings now.” He snorted again, spun on his heel and marched out of the library. The heavy front door slammed hard, announcing his exit.
“I don't feel bad about it the same as a person,” 62 clarified to 00 and Mattie. “But it seems like – like it knows when it's able to think, and when it's not.”
“But it's just a bot,” Mattie answered. “Like Blue said. Whatever it thinks it fe
els is just a program. It isn't real.”
“Yeah,” 62 conceded. “I guess.”
00 started unplugging the monitor and keyboard, seeming to decide that the suggestions of saving power would be a good idea. “What are we going to do with it?”
“We could take it apart,” Mattie suggested. Both 62 and 00 turned on her with narrow, accusing eyes. She put up her hands in surrender. “Or not! I was just saying it was an option.”
“We've got to tell Auntie what we found out. She said she wanted to know, didn't she?” 00 said.
“Maybe she'd have more questions she wants to ask it when we boot it up again,” 62 agreed with a nod. Silence filled the room for a few awkward moments. Mattie kept her lips locked in a nervous half smile, palms still facing out and ready to flag her surrender. 62 looked from her to the monitor. His shoulders sagged and his chin dropped. He whispered, “I wish it knew what happened to my friends.”
“I know.” Mattie moved closer and patted him on the shoulder. 00 finished winding up the loose cords and watched the tender moment awkwardly.
The friends parted ways, each returning home in quiet surrender to their limitations. Mattie had volunteered to go back to Auntie's hut with a report of their experience the next day, and 00 decided he'd try to meet up with Blue to smooth over his upset at the comments about the Nurse's feelings. 62 resigned himself to returning to school and learning about all the horrible foods he had to eat, and ways that Hanford was trying to make sure they all died.
As 62 approached his barracks, he looked at the sharp angles of the building lit silver in the light of the rising moon. In the day it was nothing more than a dirt-colored building with worn corners and cracked seams, but at night its shape looked more defined. Less worn out. And yet, more ominous in its presence against the night sky. “What a nightmare,” he whispered to himself.
He pulled the door open and made his way to his room. The building was quiet aside from the creaks and groans of the aging structure being whipped by the wind. 62 turned on his light and stared at it, wondering to himself silently about the amount of power that the single bulb drew. Even here, in this large building, the power ran out each night. There wasn't anywhere in Hanford that had constant light. Except the bathrooms. Mattie had said she read in the bathrooms at night because their lights were always on. No matter what.
62 wondered again about how much power the bulb drew. How much electricity the bathrooms had. How many bathrooms together it would take to power a computer overnight. He stared so long that the light bulb began to dim, dropping from yellow to orange, and then from orange to brown. It faded more and more until the light went out and 62 found himself standing in the dark.
CHAPTER 42
CLASS WAS FOCUSED ON identifying plants and animals outside of Hanford that could be eaten in an emergency. “After proper preparation,” Parker had said while staring directly at 62. The whole class laughed, and he wondered if he was ever going to live down eating grass straight from the garden. Although the rest of the class seemed engrossed in Parker’s description of surviving outside of town in an emergency, 62 couldn’t concentrate. All he could think about was the Nurse hidden in the library. He nearly fell out of his seat with excitement when Parker announced the end of the day’s session.
62 ran across town, holding his mask against his cheeks with one hand to keep it from sliding off his sweating face as his feet pounded the earth beneath him. He forgot to keep an eye on the rough road and tripped twice. He was lucky to regain his balance the first time, but the second time his foot slipped on the uneven dirt he went down hard. He managed to keep his eyes closed and his mask firmly affixed to his face, but a cloud of dust rose around him as the side of his body skidded across the dirt. He ground to a halt and rolled onto his back to take inventory of his injuries. His shoulder ached and there was a screaming pain in his knee. He looked down to find his pants ripped and a shocking red gash across his kneecap.
“Not now,” he muttered to himself angrily. He winced when the knee bent as he tried to get up. The pain was deep and throbbing. It hurt so much to bend his knee that he decided to try keeping it straight as he got up. He imagined how silly he must look rolling around on the ground, trying to build up enough momentum to get up on his good leg without bending the bad one. It took a few tries, but eventually he made it to his feet. The blood seemed to run more freely now that he stood, and the leg hurt from knee to ankle when he tried to put weight on it.
62 looked longingly in the direction of the library. He was only halfway there. He could probably make it the rest of the way if he tried, but the amount of dust and debris coating him might be dangerous. He yelled. His voice screamed at the frustration of being hurt; of the annoyance of radiation’s constant threat, and of anguish at the people who had brought the toxic material to Hanford to begin with. He roared until his throat hurt, his eyes watered, and he could hear his own voice ringing in his ears. Still he shouted, cursed, and groaned, too frustrated to do much else.
A head peeked around a nearby building. Long, curling hair cascaded over the top of a white mask, framing the round eyes behind the lens. 62 quieted, clearing his raw throat. The way her long hair swept over her mask as she turned her head reminded him of the Woman who’d attacked him before. His breath caught in his chest as he wondered if it was the same person, come to assault him again.
The Woman pulled the rest of herself around the corner. She was tall, thin, and oddly clean for having been poking around between buildings. She came toward him with urgent steps. 62 tensed up, preparing to be attacked. When then the Woman got within a dozen feet of him, she stopped and crossed her arms. Her expression was skewed by her mask, but the sigh she set free and the slope of her shoulders made up for it.
“You again,” she stated.
62 looked up at her and poked his thumb into his chest. “Me?”
She nodded, silent. This reserved, slightly irritated person wasn’t the same one who’d threatened to kill him. 62 tried to remember a time when he might have met this Woman, but his mind drew a blank. He hadn’t been introduced to many, and those he had met didn’t seem to like him very much, so he tended to give them a wide berth. He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t know you.”
“Sure you do,” she said, voice dripping with resignation. She shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling around in them for something. “I checked you out a while back at the med center. You’re the kid that put dirt in his mouth.” She pulled two gloves out of one of the pockets then proceeded to pull them on over her slender hands. “Twice, actually. If I remember right.”
62 frowned beneath his mask. “How did you know it was me?”
The doctor rolled her eyes. “It was easy. Green mask, and you’re the only kid I know who’s always covered in dirt.” She fished something else out of another pocket and began to unfold it. A poncho. She closed the gap between them and draped the fabric over his head, holding the sides out while he found the holes to push his arms through.
“What’s this for?” 62 complained.
“You’re disgusting. I want to try to keep myself out of decon if I can help it.” As soon as she was satisfied that he was sufficiently covered, she pulled his plastic-covered arm around her shoulder and held him up, supporting the side of his body impeded by his injured leg. She turned him around gently. “Let’s get you in to medical. They’ll get you patched up and then you can get back to whatever you were running like a fool to.”
“I had something important to tell my friends,” he said. “I was in a hurry.”
The doctor scoffed. “Well, some lot of good being in a hurry got you. All scraped up and covered in dirt. You’re lucky I found you, you know. If I hadn’t been there, you may have had to crawl all the way to the hospital on your own.”
“I could have,” 62 grumbled.
“Sure, and picked up more dirt and grime in that open wound all along the way. Ground it into your blood and under your skin until it was one big radioactive
mess. Plus, taken forever so it would have time to start spreading through your blood, getting to places where we wouldn’t be able to get it out again. Irradiating your bones and attaching to the cells in your kidneys. No big deal.” 62 stumbled and she grunted as she took on more of his weight.
“Sorry,” he said feebly. They hobbled down the road like a three-legged cow until they reached the end of the block, then stopped to adjust their stance and catch their breaths. The doctor shifted her shoulders, sloping the one closest to him down at an angle so he could hook the crook of his armpit over the socket and his elbow around her neck. When they got going again, 62 asked, “What were you doing out there, anyway?”
“Meeting one of my friends,” she answered. 62 looked up into her face and she nodded. “I have them too, you know.”
62 considered her answer and looked up at her with a tilt of his head. “Out in the empty side of town is kind of a weird place to meet a friend.”
The doctor nearly dropped him. “Oh? And you should know, right, since you meet your friends out here, too?”
62 stammered, “Well, yeah. But we like books. The books are out there. In the library.”
She looked down at him, eyebrow raised. “Huh. I wouldn’t have taken you for a reader. But everyone has their quirks. So that’s why you were running around like a madman, because of books?”
“Yeah. Well, no. Not exactly. There is a book but—” his voice trailed off before he said more than he should. He probably already had.
“Fine, don’t tell me.” The doctor sagged under the tight grip of 62’s arm. “I don’t really care, anyway. Just pointing out that you shouldn’t question why I was where I was, since you needed me. Just be happy I was there, in that moment, to see you fall flat on your face.”
62’s skin got red hot and his palms started to sweat. “Did you see the whole thing?”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
The tenseness that filled 62 wasn’t just from the ache of his tumble. Embarrassment gripped at his insides, causing his stomach to clench and his breath to catch short. He cleared his throat and looked toward the slowly growing visage of the hospital on the horizon. He began to replay the fall in his mind, and the way he’d awkwardly gotten back up. He could see the whole thing play out, like the daydreams that 72 used to tell him about. But this one was mortifying, and it continued to replay itself with every painful step toward the doctor’s office.
The Adaline Series Bundle 1 Page 57
