CAPACITY a-2

by Tony Ballantyne

  “Ah, the atomic Judy has made contact. Hello, AJ. Glad you could join us.”

  Helen’s eyes narrowed. “That means you’ve got a connection to the outside world. Why don’t you use it to get us out of here?”

  Four AUs and another order of existence away, the atomic Judy looked away from the viewing field towards Frances.

  “She’s sharp, isn’t she?”

  “That’s part of her appeal,” the robot said. “They’ve had one copy after another of her running in their private torture chambers for the past seventy years… Sorry, but it’s going to take me an additional forty seconds before I’ll know whether or not I can get them out of there. The destructor routines they are running are simple, but there are too many of them. All I can do is slow the rate of collapse. Our only real chance is to get a wider comm link into there and extract the personality constructs before the processing space is wiped completely.”

  Judy picked up her console, set in its usual form of a piece of heavy, lacquered wood, and began to wind it into her hair. She looked over to the viewing field by the bathroom.

  “Let’s see how Judy 3 handles Helen. Let’s see if she can keep her distracted.”

  Back in the processing space, Judy 3 remained calm through a combination of her basic training and Tao meditation. Helen, however, was remaining calm through nothing more than self-control. Judy 3 was impressed.

  “The connection to the outside world isn’t wide enough for us to escape, Helen. We couldn’t squeeze you through it any more than we could get your physical brain through a straw.”

  “Serialize it.”

  “Personality constructs in processing spaces operate according to non-Turing processes. They can’t be serialized.”

  “I thought they could represent minds on Turing machines.”

  “What do you mean by Turing machines, Helen?”

  “Something…You’re distracting me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Keep talking.”

  Helen shrugged. “Okay. Something that funnels all its operations through one door. A basic computer, it can only do one thing at a time-”

  “Nice summary. You learned well at school.”

  “Doesn’t everyone? I’d heard Social Care had education pretty well worked out by 2100. So, can they represent minds on Turing machines?”

  “Well…” Judy 3 said, and her console began shushing. In the mirrored rooms hundreds of Judys tipped their heads back a little and smiled. “That’s a debate for another day, Helen,” she said, then listened again to what her console was saying. “And it looks like we may get to have that debate.”

  A black doorway formed in one of the mirrored walls. It had EMERGENCY EXIT written on it in big green letters.

  “Step through,” Judy 3 said.

  “Done it,” said Frances. “The EA gave me the coordinates of a warp-drive-equipped ship within 4-space range. The ship managed to get to that floating prison and physically plug a line into the processing space with no time to spare.”

  “I knew you would do it, Frances.” The atomic Judy laid her hand on the warm golden metal of her friend’s shoulder. The painted eyes turned towards her.

  “You know I can tell by your body language that you’re lying, Judy? But I accept the compliment anyway. The personality constructs from the black body have been moved into a secure part of the ship’s processing space and are being sieved through the firewall right now. The Private Network has a habit of leaving nasty little logic bombs encoded in the processes of its personality constructs.”

  Judy let out a long sigh and relaxed, gripping her toes on the surface of one of the rough tatami mats that covered her apartment floor. “Will I be needed for the cleanup?” she asked.

  “Social Care have it in hand.” Frances paused. “There is still some wrapping up to do, however. Two of your sisters want to speak.”

  Judy closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay.” She yawned.

  Frances shut down all but two of the viewing fields in Judy’s bedroom. A red line then formed around the viewing field borders in order to distinguish between the atomic and the digital. The fields appeared empty, just two empty red frames hanging near the door into the lounge. Judy 3 and Helen suddenly appeared inside one red border: they walked into the room and sat down on the bed.

  “Hey there,” said Judy 3. “This is Helen.”

  “Hello, Helen,” said the atomic Judy.

  Through the second frame she saw Judy 11 quickly withdraw to the living room as soon as she spotted Helen. The atomic Judy wondered what Judy 11 had to say that so obviously had to be kept private.

  “Is that the real world I can see through there?” Helen asked, peering around the red border of the viewing field.

  The atomic Judy smiled. “That’s an interesting question.”

  Through the red border, Judy 3 put a hand on Helen’s thigh to calm her. She looked at the atomic Judy.

  “She’s not in the mood for it yet, AJ. She was only activated twenty-one hours ago.”

  The atomic Judy winced. “Sorry, Three. Have you told her the options?”

  “She has,” Helen said. “And I don’t like them. I’m seventy years out of time.” She looked at Judy 3’s black kimono. “Where am I now, anyway? And does everyone dress like this in the future?”

  Having been suddenly roused from sleep by Frances’ emergency call, Judy had only so far managed to don her plain white kosode and put on her makeup.

  “I haven’t finished dressing yet,” she said, crossing to a black lacquer chest that stood in one corner of her room and pulling out an apple-green kimono and yellow obi sash. “And, no, not everyone dresses this way.” She smiled at the beautiful silk robe she held in her hands. “Although wafuku is an increasingly popular hobby.” She quickly finished dressing, pulling the overlap of the kimono left over right. Frances moved up behind her and helped her fasten the obi around her waist.

  “And as to where you are,” continued the atomic Judy, smoothing down the wide obi sash, “well, why don’t you just take a look out of the window?”

  The red frame hanging in midair widened to include Helen in the view as she walked towards the picture window that stretched from floor to ceiling.

  “Where on earth…?” Helen said, her voice fading away.

  “Remind me, Frances,” Judy murmured. “This personality construct of Helen was made pre-Transition, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” the robot said, “by a matter of months. February 2170.”

  “That explains a lot.” Judy walked over to the window of her bedroom, while Helen stood gazing out of her own at the scene beyond, lost in wonder.

  “Have you ever been in space before?”

  Helen shook her head. Judy 3 joined Helen at the window and exchanged a look with her atomic counterpart. They could have guessed the answer by Helen’s reaction.

  One wall of Judy’s bedroom was a huge piece of curved monomolecular crystal, in stark contrast to the simple wood and the rush matting that covered the other surfaces. The window itself wrapped into both floor and ceiling enabling the two Judys and Helen to stand there on apparent nothingness. Below them stretched thousands of kilometers of empty space, and then, below that, the blue-and-white disc of the Earth. Through swirls of cloud Helen could make out the outline of Australia, the pink penumbra of dawn neatly slicing it in two. A flickering point of light indicated the remains of the abandoned Stonebreak arcology. Seeing Earth there below her, so beautiful and blue, was an impressive sight on its own, but that was not primarily what drew Helen’s eye. Above her, around her, falling to Earth, was something that looked like a gigantic dark waterfall.

  At first, it was difficult to understand what she was seeing. Looking up was to look along a seemingly never-ending dark wall, multicolored lights sparkling as they receded into the distance. Looking to the sides was exactly the same. Then, looking nearby, she realized the lights she could see were other windows-just like those of Judy’s bedroom-cunningly laid out so
as to give an unobstructed view along the wall’s extent, forming hypnotic diagonal patterns as they receded to infinity. Helen could take no more. She reeled away from the window, back into the bedroom, the red-bordered viewing field following her progress.

  “Where are we? What is that?” she gasped, overwhelmed.

  “We’re on the Shawl,” said Judy 3, touching her hand. “Think of the stealth cube in the arboretum. All those boxes, growing up from beneath the ground. You might say that the Shawl is the stealth cube’s opposite. A series of rectangular sections, growing downwards from a point high above the Earth. All the sections are tethered together by connecting filament. They hang from a point called the source, where new sections are made. The Shawl could be the answer to the stealth cube. Where it was secret, we are obvious, where it was sinister, we celebrate joy and diversity, where-”

  “But how did we get into space? I thought we were in the arboretum.” Helen knew she had said something stupid as soon as the words left her mouth.

  “No. You have never been in the arboretum. That was where the atomic Helen worked. Marek Mazokiewicz made an illegal imprint of her mindset over seventy years ago. Your personality construct was created about twenty-one hours ago, based on the atomic Helen’s mindset. To you, it is as if your life just continued from when the illegal imprint was made. You weren’t meant to know that you were actually running on an illegal processing space.”

  “That was part of the torture,” Frances said, speaking up for the first time. Helen looked at the robot with mild horror. The painted blue eyes and smile gave Frances a distinctly sinister look. Helen’s eyes were then drawn down to the pubic triangle of push buttons.

  “This is too much to take in,” she murmured.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Frances said.

  Helen said nothing; she turned to stare back out into space.

  The atomic Judy looked over at her digital self and moved her hands in a flickering pattern.

  – Why did you bring her here? she asked.

  Devising a secret sign language was so much easier when each person drew on a common core of memory. When the digital Judy mimed rocking a baby, she meant home, here, their bedroom; it was a symbol they both remembered from their childhood, when home had meant the place their younger sister had been born.

  The digital Judy was answering.

  – I brought her here because she’s going to ask to help in tracking down Kevin, just like every personality construct of Helen ends up doing sooner or later. I think we should say yes this time.

  The atomic Judy tilted her head slightly.

  – I’m listening.

  – She’s just heard that Kevin has committed suicide rather than be taken by us. I’m still rather shaken by that myself.

  – As am I. We were just beginning to suspect there were several personality constructs of Kevin running in tandem. I think this confirms it. Who is he, I wonder…?

  The digital Judy shrugged, then indicated Helen.

  – She must know we’re getting nowhere, trying to catch him.

  The apple-green atomic Judy glanced at Frances, then she looked back at her digital sister.

  – Why you, 3? Why are you the only one to bring Helen here? There were lots more of her PCs running in there. Why have none of the other Judys thought of using her?

  Judy 3 shrugged.

  – I don’t know. Look, Kevin is our best handle on the Private Network, but he’s proving too difficult to pin down. We need to try another approach, and I think that is to use Helen. Why does Kevin have such an interest in her? Time and again he comes back to her personality construct. I think we should allow her to tag along with me. She might help us learn something.

  “You’re speaking about me, aren’t you?” Helen was looking out from the red-bordered field into the atomic world, looking at the apple-green Judy.

  “I told you she was good,” Judy 3 said out loud.

  “Which one of you two is in charge?” Helen demanded.

  “Neither of us,” the atomic Judy said. “Since the Transition, everyone is legally regarded as equal, whether they exist in the digital world, as you and Judy do, or in the atomic world, like Frances and me.”

  Helen smiled coldly. “Does that include who inherits the money?”

  Judy 3 laughed, her black lips opening wide to reveal white teeth and a red tongue. After a moment the atomic Judy did the same, a perfect mirror image of her digital sister, even down to the opposite ways their kimonos overlapped under the obi.

  “You catch on quick,” Judy 3 said, “very quickly. No, only the atomic Judy gets the money. What would I do with it, Helen? Anyway, there is little use for money nowadays, even in the atomic world. Especially since the Transition.”

  “What is this Transition you keep talking about?” Helen’s tone was accusatory, as if the Judys were deliberately using terms intended to confuse her.

  “Let me explain,” Judy 3 said softly. “You are a personality construct, Helen. You understand what that means?”

  “Yes. It means that I am now living in a computer. In a processing space. In the digital world.”

  “That’s right. And just suppose that the organization that owned the processing space came to the conclusion that their ‘computer’ ”-Judy made quote signs with her fingers-“was full to capacity? What if they decided to wipe some of the programs, the personality constructs, in order to make way for others?”

  “But that would be murder!”

  “Only since 2171. The Transition established rights for digital and atomic beings, but it did far more than that. The world has always been driven by contradictory forces. In your time the contradictions were tearing everything apart. You had an economy driven by commercial organizations looking one, two, maybe ten years into the future, all concerned about nothing more than the bottom line. Then you had AIs built by those same companies that were thinking one hundred, two hundred, maybe even a thousand years into the future. The tension between human and AI was warping society.”

  “What about the Watcher?”

  The two Judys were silent. Frances spoke. “What about the Watcher, Helen?”

  Helen looked at the robot. Something about Frances’ painted smile seemed to make her uncomfortable. “Didn’t the Watcher have a plan to help us all?”

  “Helen,” Frances said, “do you really believe in the Watcher? Do you really believe that the first AI to evolve shaped all the other AIs? Do you really believe that everything is fine if it is part of the Watcher’s plan?”

  “I don’t know. What do you believe, Frances?”

  The two Judys laughed.

  “Well spoken, Helen,” the atomic Judy said. She looked at her friend. “What do you believe, Frances? Do you think that the Watcher played a part in organizing the Transition?”

  The robot wasn’t fazed. “I believe that the tyranny of the atomic world could not be allowed to go on,” she said smoothly. “During the Transition, the most intelligent AIs banded together and they changed the way the world worked. They reduced the power of the companies: DIANA, Imagineers; all those big commercial organizations were effectively sidelined, once AIs took a more direct approach to the running of the world. The Transition finally put paid to the myth that humans had any part to play in running their own affairs.”

  Frances looked at the apple-green Judy. “What do you believe?”

  “This is a human-shaped world,” she said. “I believe that the Watcher was the first AI. I believe that it learned humanity by studying a woman named Eva Rye. I believe that the Watcher has guided development through the EA for the past two centuries for the benefit of humankind.”

  Frances laughed.

  “Whether it’s the Environment Agency or the Watcher, you still agree that humans need to be nurtured by outside agencies.”

  “No. I think humans should be able to handle their own affairs.”

  “And yet you work for Social Care.”

  “I do. But I work to
heal people and help them realize their potential. Not to tell them the way they should live. That’s what the EA is doing.”

  Helen was staring out into the darkness of space, visibly overwhelmed by the dark wall of the Shawl.

  “Who is Kevin?” she asked suddenly.

  Judy 3 raised a black eyebrow to the atomic Judy. Her kimono was invisible against the dark night beyond her, giving her the appearance of a disembodied head and hands floating in the darkness.

  “Kevin is the person who seems to be running the illegal personality constructs.”

  “I want to get the bastard.”

  The atomic Judy put a finger to her lips and gazed at the floor, as if saying, “I told you so.” She spoke in a carefully noncommittal voice.

  “And what would you hope to achieve by doing that?”

  Helen scowled. “What do you think?” she asked. “Why were you so shocked when he committed suicide?”

  The atomic Judy’s reply was gentle. “Come on. How do you feel about committing suicide, Helen?”

  “Me? Why should I commit suicide? Oh!”

  “Precisely. It doesn’t matter how many copies of Helen are running, there is only one you. The same goes for Kevin. He is too strong a personality to commit suicide on a whim, no matter how many copies of him there are.”

  Judy 3 placed a white hand on Helen’s tanned arm, and the young woman tensed. Judy gave her a gentle smile and spoke in calming tones. “Helen, before we do anything else, you need to undergo acclimatization and counseling. You’ve undergone a very stressful experience that has left you harboring unhealthy thoughts towards your tormentor. You’ve got to be readjusted. Added to that, you are now living seventy years out of time.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Which home, Helen?” the atomic Judy asked. “The one seventy years ago in the atomic world? There are virtual copies of that time running in processing spaces that you could join, but, well, you’re a young woman. Barely twenty-three. Wouldn’t you prefer to make a go of living in the twenty-third century?”