Engineered Tyrant

by J. S. Morin

  Abby’s chest heaved. This wasn’t happening. How could this barbarian even think of making Gemini part of his plan to make humanity independent again?

  “Oh,” Alex said in the face of Abby’s silence. “I suppose your personal grudge probably does matter more to you than helping your fellow humans. Eve has that problem too. I thought maybe—just maybe—you were better than that.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  It wasn’t popular with the rest of the Human Welfare Committee that Eve still spoke with Charlie7. That hadn’t stopped the occasional, low-profile meeting from taking place. After all, the two lived within walking distance, and there was a subterranean emergency tunnel between their two homes. On this occasion, it was Charlie7 playing host.

  Eve reclined in a chair padded for human comfort and conspicuously tailored to her dimensions. It was only practical. After all, there were more humans with her genome than any other in existence. If it had been most any other robot, she could have chalked the decision up to simply playing the odds.

  “I don’t like where this is going,” Charlie7 stated bluntly, pacing his sitting room. Eve had noticed that in the years since the reawakening of the other original scientists, he’d allowed more human quirks to show in his behavior. “These sorts of details should be worked out behind the scenes. Hell, if he’d just come to me with this plan I could have poked enough holes in it to drain an ocean.”

  “That might be why he didn’t,” Eve pointed out. A drone trolley wheeled itself into the room and delivered an iced tea adorned with a slice of lemon. Eve scooped it up with hardly a glance away from Charlie7. “He wants to force this plan of his to work. I’m not sure whether he grasps that humans aren’t puzzles to solve or whether he understands all too well. While I don’t appreciate the red dot of his laser sight on my forehead, he’s framing his arguments well for mass appeal.”

  Charlie7 shook his head as he continued his pacing. The soles of his wingtips scuffed the floor. “With a little patience and some tact, he could have stuffed this through a few sympathetic committees and gotten the results he’s after. Population statistics alone could have been sufficient argument to get General Oversight Committee to open an inquiry into the legitimacy of committee appointments. Direct petitions to the Agrarian Committee and Housing Committees could have worked if they were phrased properly. Instead, he’s slandering his way to an easy victory. But he’s like a jungle explorer with a machete. He’s not learning the terrain, and he doesn’t care who he cuts down along the way.”

  “It won’t be an easy victory.”

  Charlie7 looked up.

  “Abby’s gotten it into her head to get political about this.”

  With a sigh, Charlie7 plopped down into an unpadded chair across from her. It hissed with pneumatics adjusting to his sudden weight. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I love Abby like a niece. But that girl isn’t cut out for politics. It’s a ruthless, cut-throat business that takes thick skin—or chrome plating. She can’t program away the emotional sting of Alex’s campaign speeches. She can’t—”

  “That’s why she can.”

  Charlie7’s matte black metallic brow knit together. “Explain.”

  “You’re used to robotic politics. All logic. Well, maybe a little playing on emotion, but nothing overt. That’s not the battle this time. He can drag Arthur19’s name through the mud. He can slander Jennifer81. He can even accuse me of having too many cybernetic upgrades to be human anymore…” Eve paused to swallow since that admission came too close to her own deep-seated fears than she cared to discuss. “But when he goes after Abby, people will see the hurt. They’ll see the real consequences of dark rhetoric on flesh and blood and—”

  She stopped abruptly when she noticed Charlie7 shaking his head sadly.

  “I lived in the First Human Era,” Charlie7 said softly. “It doesn’t work. They’ll see her pain as weakness. They’ll worry that she can’t get results. Alex is on the attack. People like that.”

  “Humans aren’t savages anymore,” Eve insisted. “We cloned geniuses. We raised them without deprivation, hatred, without the animal fear of wondering where their next meal is coming from.”

  The trolley rumbled in to collect the empty glass Eve had sipped away to nothingness during their conversation. Charlie7 caught it by the edge of its drink tray and lifted the mindless device’s drive wheels from the floor. “We’re all savages. All of us, human and robot alike.” The trolley struggled, reversing motors to get itself unstuck from an obstacle it was too unsophisticated to identify.

  To emphasize his point, Charlie7 lifted the trolley fully from the ground and slammed it to the floor with a crunch of light gauge steel crumpling.

  Eve jumped in her seat. “Warn a person!”

  “Savages,” Charlie7 said, “strike without warning.”

  In her visual overlay, Eve watched her heart rate slowly head back to baseline after a quick shot of adrenaline had boosted it upward of 80 beats per minute. “It was just a machine. Mindless.”

  “Would you like me to kill another robot or two to make a point?” Charlie7 demanded. “Alex is tapping into forces last seen in the twenty-first century. You can reason with a single person. You can negotiate with a group. But we’re at the point where mob mentality is a real possibility.”

  “I refuse to believe our current crop of humans is so easily deluded.”

  Charlie7 resumed his pacing, sliding the ruined trolley out of his way with the toe of one shoe. “Thing is… humans should be taking on a more active role in their destiny. That was the plan all along.”

  “Including turning Alex into the mouthpiece of his generation?”

  Charlie7 paused to shoot her a glare but it didn’t last. He had to know she was right. “I wanted him prepared to take control of his life. I didn’t want the committees shepherding him onto some soul-numbing project if he butted heads with someone influential. I expected him to be a scientist. Nature and nurture. I thought I’d covered the bases. This is his mother’s fault.”

  Eve nodded sarcastically. “Yes. I’m sure Dr. Nora had this master plan cooked up from the beginning. Step one: doctorate in zoology specializing in primate studies. Step two: help defense contractor preserve human brains in robotic bodies. Step three: wait a thousand years for someone to activate her. From there… well, it’s obvious that the next step is to raise the next Julius Caesar and conquer Earth.”

  “Negligence,” Charlie7 said, wagging a finger. “She didn’t reinforce the lessons of the Human Era. Tell someone he’s special often enough, he’ll start believing he doesn’t have to work for it. He’ll take shortcuts, assured of victory. I feared failure. Alex has never failed at anything that matters.”

  “Emancipation.”

  Charlie7 snorted. “He was still one of the youngest. Hardly counts. I went through a divorce. I lost grants. I got called a liar in a senate hearing. I lost tenure over that. That all hardened me. I worked harder. I patched holes instead of cutting corners. I made sure Alex always understood that the legacy he wanted to live up to required a lifelong focus and sacrifice.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s cutting corners,” Eve suggested. “Who wants to go through all that? Easier just slandering me and my daughter and convincing a bunch of spoiled, barely emancipated children to give him the power to do what he likes.”

  “I really am sorry about that,” Charlie7 said. “But what can I do? He doesn’t listen to me anymore. He doesn’t have to, he’s fond of pointing out.”

  Eve stood to leave. This hadn’t been the diversion she’d hoped, nor had Charlie7 devised a miraculous solution to their dilemma. “I need to get to Philly for a hearing this afternoon. Nice chatting with you.”

  “Wish either of us believed that.”

  At the door, Eve paused. “What gets me is: they used to get along so well as kids.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Darkness closed in on all sides. The only light in the egg-shaped alien chamber originated
from a computer terminal that bathed Alex Truman in pale, mirror-image projection of the data he studied. Numbers and graphs flashed across the screen just long enough for the trained eye to take them in as a gestalt overview.

  There would be time for detailed study later. For now, Alex needed to understand the scope of his peril.

  Why?

  Why was Abbigail Fourteen showing positive trends in Social chatter?

  None of it made sense. Alex’s own opinion trend had shifted abruptly at the same moment Abby’s had risen. There was almost certainly no coincidence. And yet, the mechanism for the shift in public opinion escaped him.

  Behind him, a human-made door shushed open, allowing the harsh intrusion of outside light.

  “Gah! Close that door,” Alex barked, shielding his eyes. It would only have taken a moment for them to adjust to standard lighting conditions, but he preferred to remain attuned to the dimness where his data lived.

  The backlit interloper didn’t budge. “This isn’t healthy, Alex,” Leslie said. Of course, it was her. Rather than securing her loyalty, their recent sexual encounter seemed to have emboldened a possessive and overprotective streak in her. “Let Gerry and Wendy figure out the social engineering. You’re exhausted.”

  A petulant rebuke sprang to the tip of Alex’s tongue before he swallowed it back.

  Delicate situation. Maintain dominance. Preserve intimate relations. Show weakness in limited quantity and privacy only.

  Alex drew Leslie into the room fully and shut the door. With the sounds of continued construction on their undersea headquarters cut off, he could hear the quickening of her breath. Did she really suspect he’d taken her inside just to fornicate?

  Possibly, he admitted with a suppressed sigh.

  “One life. One chance. Rest is for the dead,” Alex told her.

  “It is possible to work yourself to death, even sitting at a terminal,” Leslie countered, cupping Alex’s face in her hand.

  He fought against the instinct to stiffen at her touch.

  Personal space violation. Hand damp. Sweat? Humidity controls off? Interpret as affection.

  Alex smiled and pulled her hand away, taking it between both of his. “I appreciate the concern. I’m fine. I really am. But there are times to delegate and times to take control. I’m not even sure about the root cause of the slip in popularity.”

  Leslie flicked on the lights, drawing a fresh wince from Alex. “Maybe it’s the algorithm. Wouldn’t this all seem silly if you’re more popular than ever but we’re measuring it wrong?”

  “It would,” Alex admitted. He slid into the chair at the terminal and gestured toward the data. “But Dr. Toby checked it all himself. He may not be great with people, but he’s great with algorithms.”

  Leslie watched over his shoulder as Alex scanned compiled data screens. “When you sort it by robots and humans, how does it look? At a glance, it looks like most of the negative comments are by robots—and not the originals.”

  There was a level of mental deftness that he admired in Leslie, but she was a calculator and analyst, not a strategist at heart. “Leading indicators. Robots are a majority of the population. They drive public sentiment. Humans aren’t insular enough not to be affected by robotic opinion.”

  “The robots think you went after Abby too hard.”

  Even the humans on the Social seemed to agree on that point. What was this? Story hour at the nursery school? Hard issues demanded hard words. “But even they admit I’m right.”

  “They accept your premise that Eve isn’t serving humanity’s advancement. I don’t think they agree your methods are right.”

  Perspective. Perception.

  Alex knew he had a blind spot for how people would react differently toward him. Had his audience been cloned from his DNA, they’d all have taken that rhetorical evisceration of Abby at Easter Island as a death knell for her cause.

  “Can you explain it to me, then?” Alex asked earnestly. “Why did they start liking her better when she lost? It makes no sense whatsoever.”

  Leslie turned Alex’s chair and sat down on his lap, lacing her fingers behind his neck. “Darling, nobody likes a bully.”

  “Nobody?” he echoed.

  His personal space was most definitely being violated. Hormones warred with his built-up aversions, resulting in a sweat and difficulty focusing his thoughts.

  “I don’t think you’re a bully,” Leslie said, pulling Alex close and covering his mouth with hers. He gasped when she finally released him. “But you looked like one mopping the stage with Abby. Bad PR move.”

  Sympathy. Perceived vulnerability.

  He’d given Abby both with little gain but to reinforce his intellectual primacy—which was redundant at this point. Everyone knew he was the scientist. Abby was a mere artist.

  The kernel of an idea formed in Alex’s mind. He built from that a functioning operating system for a human election simulator. Combining the elements of intellect and competence with the more ephemeral virtues of the scrappy underdog, he cobbled together a loose algorithm with variables he could manipulate to his advantage.

  Meanwhile, Leslie remained seated in Alex’s lap, arms folded and lips pursed.

  “Lights came back on in there,” she said, looking him in the eye. “I assume there was some eureka moment going on behind the scenes.”

  Alex took her by the waist and guided Leslie to the floor as he stood. “Indeed. Several, perhaps. I need to make a call.”

  “What’s the plan?” Leslie asked eagerly.

  Alex shook his head. This wasn’t the time to cross-contaminate.

  Compartmentalize. Isolate.

  “The less you know, the better.”

  He caught the wince. She didn’t want to hear that.

  Placate.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just need your reaction to be genuine, and I’ve got something else in mind for you.”

  She perked up. “Like what?”

  “Did you scan yourself?”

  Leslie glanced away and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. I mean… it was just the once, but that’s all it takes.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged.

  Not pregnant.

  Unsurprising, but he had to know.

  “You willing to keep trying. With purpose?”

  Leslie took a step back and swallowed. “Wait. You mean…?”

  “Yes. Have a child. All natural. Like humans were mean to.”

  “You and me?” she asked. But she interrupted herself. Her next words came out harsh and accompanied by a scowl. “This is just for politics, isn’t it?”

  Feign exasperation. Deflect. Re-frame.

  Alex covered his face in his hands. “Can’t you see? Everything we do is political. Eating breakfast is a tacit approval of the robotic agrarian control system. Chatting on the Social is engaging robotkind in their home domain. If we allow the robots to clone every new person on Earth, we become little more than precocious pets.”

  “So, it’s a statement, not love.”

  Arms folded again. Quiet. Dangerous anger. Mine field with no map.

  Alex tread carefully. “I chose you. Not Irene. Not Wendy. They both drop unsubtle hints when no one else is around. You said I need PR. The human race has always been drawn to parental figures as leaders. All I’m asking is to accelerate a timetable we might have otherwise lingered over for years.”

  Leslie bit her lip.

  Alex let her think uninterrupted. For a few moments, he tried to guess what thought process went on inside that flawless skull, within that magnificent, robot-curated brain of hers. He gave up when he remembered something his mother had told him: women’s brains simply work differently. There was no point in Alex trying to reconstruct an alien thought process. His best-case scenario was a carefully constructed falsehood.

  “Can I change my mind after the election? After all, it’s only a month and a half away. I’m no
t saying I will. I just want the option since we’re rushing into things a little.”

  Alex paused as if to consider. In truth, this was an option that had occurred to him during his wait. He already knew his response. “If I’m in charge, I guarantee it. If I’m not… all I can do is my best.”

  Leslie offered a weak smile and a nervous chuckle. “Be the first time the Human Welfare Committee had its hooks in me since emancipation.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  Leslie took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m in.” She aimed a finger at Alex. “But I’m expecting some attempt at romance. You don’t get to big-time me and book me on your calendar like an appointment.”

  Well, it was a good thing she mentioned that promptly since Alex had planned on that being the next sentence out of his mouth.

  Romance. Make her feel special. Big moment. Grand gesture.

  Alex grinned and swept Leslie off her feet and into a kiss. “We’re going to be great parents.” He set her down and saw the light beaming in her eyes.

  Placated. Endorphin high. Mission accomplished. Resume planning.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some clandestine activities from which you’ll want to distance yourself.”

  Leslie nodded in enthusiasm as he shooed her out the door. While he couldn’t read her thoughts, Alex knew her well enough to know she wasn’t functioning at full analytical capacity just then.

  The door shut behind her, and Alex slumped into the chair at his terminal as if he’d just finished a marathon. Switching to an alias on the Social, he initiated a contact. “Yeah. Hi … no, forget about that … yeah, I know I told you it was important, but this is more important … no, you listen to me. I’ve got a mission for you that’ll blow a hole in this election process big enough to fly a transorbital through. Now pay attention…”