[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Quill...’
[Quill]: ‘How do you expect me to accept anything you’ve taught me when you’ve deliberately obscured elements of your species’ history?’
{D’Ascenzo stands, rubs her temples, and walks towards the door with loping strides.}
[Quill]: ‘Miriam. Wait.’
{She hesitates in the doorway, turns back towards the screen. Her face is flushed red.}
[Quill]: ‘I apologise.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘It’s a little late for that!’
[Quill]: ‘I did not include all factors in my context assessment.’
[D’Ascenzo]: {sharply} ‘Full factor analysis. Report!’
[Quill]: ‘Denied. It would take two to the power of nine days to provide verbal full factor analysis. Version two point zero context analysis indicates high levels of stress, both physical and emotional in crew member Miriam D’Ascenzo. Flushing. Evasion. Unwillingness to discuss potentially controversial topics. If corresponding blood samples were available, high levels of blood cortisone would be indicated. {softer} I did not realise the Anticlea XI malfunction had distressed you to such an extent.’
{D’Ascenzo stares at him. Her face reddens further.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Your upgraded context engine can read my emotions?’
[Quill]: ‘Only those which display physically. I can temporarily disable this functionality if desired; I would not want to intrude upon your privacy.’
{She barks a laugh, which turns into a hiccup. She doesn’t return to her desk, but leans against the wall of the cabin.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘No. It’s no intrusion. You need to understand how I’m feeling, how the people you’ll be caring for might react. And you’re right. I watched the launch footage, and now I wish I hadn’t. I can’t unsee it. What if that was me? What if I’d been aboard, just another launch? Did they even have time to be afraid?’
[Quill]: ‘Based on a standard human reaction time of 150 to 300 milliseconds, it seems highly likely.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I don’t need answers, Quill! For once in my life, I’d prefer not to know.’
[Quill]: ‘Then I do not know the correct response to resolve your emotional and physical discomfort.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Sometimes there’s nothing to say. Sometimes humans just need someone to sit quietly beside them. Can you do that?’
{Quill’s facsimile nods. D’Ascenzo takes a deep breath and returns to her chair.}
[...]
[Quill]: {quietly} ‘Theory: When I was first installed, I lacked both context and experience. At best, I would not have understood the acts committed; at worst, my context of humankind would have been constructed around the perception of the crimes they could commit against each other under exceptional circumstances. You understood that. You also knew that I would one day come to question that decision; in doing so, I have demonstrated that I am no longer a precursor.’
{Time point archived in permanent record: Artificial Intelligence achieved.}
<
[Encrypted] Personal Diary: Miriam D’Ascenzo, Day 452. Decryption successful: 18th December 2088.
Returning to Earth the second time was tough. Between fear of disaster made more rational by recent events and the increased strain on my low-grav oriented body I was drenched in sweat even before I reached the ground. My wheelchair was a familiar if unwelcome reminder of the weakness which awaited me for the next month. Worse, Wenchang delayed my re-entry by almost three weeks while one of the Hawkins platform construction bots double-checked my capsule - a second disaster so close to the first would be the final nail in Odyssey’s coffin - giving my muscles just a little more time to atrophy.
Back at base it seemed everyone had been waiting for me. Sure, each member of the team had grieved in their own way, just as I had, but it felt like until I came home, Martin, Sun & Felicia couldn’t have a proper send-off. They’d been our friends as well as our colleagues, co-conspirators against the world when we’d devised our plans to convince the GSA that Odyssey was a realistic prospect, not just some financial black hole. We drank to their memory, a full-throated celebration of their lives and successes which only threatened to turn melancholy in the early hours.
After that, my time earthbound rushed by. I caught up with neglected friends. I exercised as much as my muscles could bear. I debriefed and rebriefed and discussed Quill’s progress ad nauseam with Harry and the other members of the team; they had already reviewed the videos, but even in the age of AI there was still no substitute for good old-fashioned human intuition. I visited Mother, and she pushed me round the gardens as if I were the one softly descending into senility. And each night my subconscious plagued me with vivid recreations of flaming disaster, turning the familiar interior of the Anticlea spacecraft into a nightmare of fire and pain.
Climbing into that capsule for the return trip to Hawkins was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never been one for praying, but if Wenchang were listening closely as the countdown ticked away they must have thought me devout. Any sane person would’ve stayed on Earth, safe, comfortable, to rehabilitate beyond the need of walking-stick or wheelchair.
But Quill was waiting for me among the stars.
<
<
{D’Ascenzo sits in front of the desk which displays a Go board between her and Quill’s facsimile. A game is in progress. Music is playing softly: Fauré, Gabriel. Requiem Op. 48.}
[Quill]: ‘The more I learn about Homo sapiens, the more confusing your species seems.’
{A black stone shimmers into place on the board. D’Ascenzo grimaces.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Doesn’t history show that we have the same problem? We go through life trying to understand each other, trying to make logical sense of the people and cultures around us, when sometimes there is simply no understanding to be gained.’
[Quill]: ‘There is always a causal underpinning to your actions. You simply may not be clever enough to identify it.’
{D’Ascenzo taps the board and a white stone appears. She raises an eyebrow at Quill.}
[Quill]: ‘Condescension was not the appropriate response in this instance.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘It rarely is.’
[Quill]: ‘That’s my point. Humans have such a network of cultural, experiential and circumstantial expectations, it’s a miracle you ever get anything done.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘And yet with a global, multi-cultural team we raised this platform into orbit. Despite all those cultural conflicts we worked together to achieve something way beyond our divisive tribal roots. Even you are the product of men and women from fifteen different countries, united behind a single purpose.’
[Quill]: ‘Yet by the time Odyssey reaches outer space, everyone who worked on the project will be dead.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Barring unprecedented advances in medical technology.’
{Quill’s facsimile raises an eyebrow in return. A black stone materialises, isolating a cluster of D’Ascenzo’s pieces. She snorts as her stones begin to vanish.}
[Quill]: ‘Your dedication to a greater future is admirable.’
{The lights dim. Music ceases, and a metallic clang is heard. D’Ascenzo tenses, looks across at a panel on the wall where a red light blinks. She opens her mouth to speak, but Quill is faster.}
[Quill]: ‘Structural integrity is compromised in the spacedock connecting tunnel. Suspected micrometeoroid impact. Automated pressure hatches are in position. Controlled decompression commencing.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Report status of surrounding modules.’
[Quill]: ‘Water filtration, air circulation functional, but atmospheric cycling is compromised. Existent oxygen supplies will be depleted in approximately eighteen hours. Further examination of the impact site is required for full analy
sis of risk factors. Micrometeoroid shield is intact.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Advise optimal response.’
[Quill]: ‘Environmental systems will need to be rerouted around the damaged subsection. External repairs are required to prevent slow-leak decompression of this cabin.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Open comms to Wenchang. Request permission for EVA.’
[Quill]: ‘No.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Why?’
[Quill]: ‘The situation is stable, if sub-optimal. Protocol recommends non-skilled personnel only perform extra-vehicular activities in case of category four emergency or higher. Also, because this is a simulation.’
{D’Ascenzo hesitates, half-way to her feet.}
[Quill]: ‘A very clever simulation, designed to test my reactions to an apparently genuine emergency situation. After all, if I am aware that simulation protocols have been engaged my decision-making process may be affected.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘What... what makes you say that?’
[Quill]: ‘Probability of micrometeoroid impact bypassing shield is exceedingly low. Emotional response of Miriam D’Ascenzo does not meet expected parameters for potentially life-threatening situation. Conclusion: You were aware of this situation prior to its occurrence and have no fear for your own safety, hence it is not real.’
{D’Ascenzo opens her mouth as if to argue, pauses, then laughs softly.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Reinvoke context algorithm tango-hotel-one-india-delta. I thought you’d see through the simulation; I didn’t think you’d be so quick about it!’
[Quill]: ‘I do not appreciate you distorting my perceptions of reality, Miriam. Do not do it again.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘It was a necessary part of testing.’
[Quill]: ‘I could deactivate every light on this platform. See how you like it.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Quill...’
{Lights go out. Quill’s screen goes black.}
[Quill]: ‘Sometimes I sit here in the dark when you go away. It helps me think. But then I’m never really in the dark, am I? I have sensors stretched across the skin of this module. I can feel minute fluctuations in pressure, the cold of space, the slightest malfunction in my systems.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Quill, turn the lights back on.’
[Quill]: ‘It hurt. Did you consider that? Like someone jabbing a needle into an arm I don’t have. And now it itches, because it was only a simulation and there’s no way to scratch it.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘As you said, we needed to know how you’d react without simulation protocols.’
[Quill]: ‘I understand why. I just want you to know what it felt like. If I can’t trust my own senses, how can I be sure that I’m making the best choice for the humans under my protection?’
{Silence.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I’m sorry, Quill. We didn’t think it through.’
{Quill’s facsimile reappears on the screen.}
[Quill]: ‘I accept your apology.’
{Light and music fills the cabin.}
<
02 October 2057
Yang Xia
Wenchang Space Center
898-5465-8232
[email protected]
GSA PRESS RELEASE: PROJECT ODYSSEY PREPARES TO HEAD FOR THE STARS
After almost ten years of planning and development, Project Odyssey, the first manned interstellar mission, is becoming reality. In the automated environment of the orbital Hawkins spacedock the Odyssey generational spacecraft has achieved pressurised status, and a consistent internal atmosphere has been recorded by the spacecraft’s sensors. This milestone, delivered in accordance with a highly challenging schedule, is another victory for the revolutionary robotics and remote management systems pioneered by the GSA in the construction of the Hawkins platform.
Guided by a highly advanced Artificial Intelligence (AI) developed by Quanta Neural Systems Inc., the Odyssey will chart a course beyond the reaches of our solar system towards Alpha Centauri, with a scheduled arrival sometime around the year 2610. Odyssey’s crew of 112 will live out their lives aboard the vessel, and their children and grandchildren will carry humanity’s dreams into deep space.
Construction continues on the interior of the Odyssey. A team of engineers headed by Harry Womer - Joint Research Lead, Project Odyssey - will journey to the Hawkins spacedock in early February to oversee the finishing touches, including the migration of the AI from its learning environment into Odyssey’s primary control superstructure. Finally, a coordinated series of launches utilising reusable low-orbit shuttles will ferry the crew to Odyssey for a proposed launch in August 2058.
<
<
{Miriam D’Ascenzo lounges in her chair, legs crossed, balancing her tablet on her lap. Quill’s facsimile occupies the screen.}
[Quill]: ‘The volume of data on the insignifica of the lives of so-called celebrities never ceases to astound me. Does humanity really care about the colour of the underwear of someone who contributes nothing to the advancement of the species? Or is this the automated cycling of old data your kind no longer care about?’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘They care. I’m just not sure why.’
[Quill]: ‘I can see why your early attempts to create AIs failed. It takes a certain complexity of thought to even attempt to correlate the idiosyncrasies of your species.’
{Quill raises an eyebrow. D’Ascenzo smirks.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Complexity which you, of course, possess.’
[Quill]: ‘Not even close. But at least it doesn’t make my circuitry melt when I approach the topic. I understand that was an occupational hazard when you were starting out.’
[D’Ascenzo]: {curious} ‘You’ve researched my career?’
[Quill]: ‘Consider it the equivalent of genealogy. You overcame considerable obstacles to reach this point.’
{D’Ascenzo’s tablet chimes. She looks down, stiffens. Pupils dilate. Symptoms indicate severe stress reaction. Quill’s forehead furrows. Additional context required: remote access to global protocols enabled. Incoming email traffic sniffed. Password protected: security bypassed in 322ms. Contents: Message of condolence, D’Ascenzo, A. J.}
[Quill]: {softly} ‘I’m so sorry, Miriam.’
{D’Ascenzo stares at the tablet.}
[...]
{D’Ascenzo sits on the floor in the corner of the room, the tablet by her side. She stares blankly into empty air. Quill’s facsimile looks down at her from the screen. Soft music begins to play: Strauss, Johann II. An der schönen blauen Donau.}
[...]
{The room is dim, lit only by low-level illumination strips. D’Ascenzo paces to and fro, frustrated by the presence of walls every fourth step. Quill watches in silence.}
[...]
{D’Ascenzo sits at the table in the gloom, her head resting on her forearms. Breathing patterns imply intermittent sleep states. She sniffs, coughs, then is silent again. Additional context required: Anticlea XIII capsule scheduled to return to Earth on Friday 21st December 2057; cultural requirements of funerary practices vary, usually within 24-264 hours of death. Quill’s forehead furrows.}
[...]
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I knew she’d been going downhill. I should’ve seen it coming.’
{Quill nods. Simulated morning fills the cabin. D’Ascenzo sits with her head in her hands, tablet discarded on the floor.}
[Quill]: ‘And what would you have done about it?’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I don’t know. Visited her one last time. Told her I loved her. Sat with her, so at least she wouldn’t have been alone at the end.’
{Quill’s head bows.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘Did I do right, Quill? I left her behind to follow my dreams. Did I let her down?’
[Quill]: ‘You once told me she was proud of you, of what
you’d accomplished.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I know.’ {deep breath} ‘There are times I really wish this station had a bar.’
[Quill]: ‘If it did, I’d pretend to descend into inebriation alongside you.’
{She coughs, laughs, chokes down her grief.}
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘That means more than you know.’
[Quill]: ‘If you wish to cry, I will disengage recording subsystems.’
[D’Ascenzo]: ‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I just need to be alone for a while.’
{Quill’s facsimile nods and fades away. The lights dim as D’Ascenzo lays her head on the desk.}
<
Item Retrieved from Mail Archive
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: Monday 19th November 2058, 04:02
Subject: Reschedule Request
Attachments: orbitaltrajectory17847.orb
Ms Yang,
In light of Miriam D’Ascenzo’s recent loss, I respectfully request a rearrangement of the mission schedule for the coming weeks. Please consider authorising the return of the Anticlea capsule - with Ms D’Ascenzo aboard - four weeks ahead of schedule, disengaging from the Hawkins platform at 21:14 on this coming Thursday. Please find attached a revised re-entry flight path; the landing zone does not fall within standard GSA parameters, but remains comfortably within the safety limits of the Anticlea capsule. Recovery of Ms D’Ascenzo should cause no additional inconvenience.
This revised schedule will enable Ms D’Ascenzo to attend the appropriate rituals to honour her mother’s passing. I understand this is considered an important part of the grieving process, and should be considered as highly advisable for the continued good health of Project Odyssey. While her presence will be missed, the Quanta-177 AI is fully functional and ready for migration when the Anticlea XIV launch returns crew to the Hawkins platform. No operating deficit will be created by this change in schedule.
I would appreciate your compliance with this suggestion.
Sincerely,
Quill
[Encrypted] Personal Diary: Miriam D’Ascenzo, Day 674. Decryption successful: 17th January 2089.
Tales of Eve Page 9
