The Silence
Page 15
Amber rotates her Jet-bot and points her cameras at the screen. “You’re right. That is a little weird.” She’s still showing deference to our commander. “Do you think Sigma might’ve chosen several different routes for its Snake-bots? Maybe the AI thought its machines would be vulnerable if they traveled too closely together. That would explain why these six Snake-bots didn’t arrive in time for the battle. Sigma assigned them to a much longer route.”
Shannon shakes her Diamond Girl’s head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Sigma might’ve dispersed its Snake-bots for safety, but it wouldn’t have spread them across the whole darn globe.”
“But maybe—”
“There are no maybes about it. The information on the laptop is wrong. Only an idiot would trust anything on that machine.”
This isn’t like Shannon. She’s being testy and rude and downright mean. She obviously doesn’t respect Amber’s opinion, and the conversation’s turning ugly.
Then Marshall steps forward and grabs the laptop. “I can settle this.” He raises one of his Super-bot’s steel fingers and extends a fiber-optic cable from his fingertip into the laptop’s USB port. “I’ll analyze the files. It won’t take long.”
Shannon shakes her head again. “How are you going to analyze the information if it’s all lies?”
“I have my ways.” Marshall shrugs, lifting his Super-bot’s shoulder joints. “I’m good at spotting lies because I’m an excellent liar myself. Just give me five minutes.”
• • •
Amber and Zia stand next to Marshall as he conducts his analysis. He wirelessly shares his calculations, allowing us to observe every step of the process as he searches for inconsistencies in the laptop’s files. Zia tilts her War-bot’s torso, bringing her antenna close to Marshall’s, and Amber leans forward too. They both clearly want the information to be true. They’re eager to transfer themselves to Sigma’s Snake-bots.
I don’t feel the same way. Yes, I’m glad there’s another option besides the Model S, but my circuits cringe when I think of those steel tentacles beneath the Pacific. Transferring to the Snake-bots seems very different from occupying Sigma’s nanobots. I could justify taking over the AI’s swarm because I knew it was the only way to save Brittany. Now, though, we’re not trying to save any lives except our own. And the Snake-bots are tremendously powerful machines, each capable of obliterating an entire city. Just a week ago, the Pioneers barely stopped them from leveling Manhattan, and now we’re going to occupy the same kind of hardware ourselves?
Confused, I decide to step out of the command center for a moment. I stride through the busted doorway but halt several yards down the corridor, staying within sight of Marshall, Amber, and Zia. I want to be alone for a while and yet stay close, ready to return as soon as Marshall finishes his analysis. I turn my cameras away from the command center and try to think.
But my electronic mind is agitated, and all I can think about is Dad. He’s probably still at his desk in the laboratory, doubled over with guilt and panic as he waits to hear from me. He gave me the responsibility of convincing the Pioneers to accept the Model S robot, but instead we’re considering a jump in the opposite direction, moving to machines that are hundreds of times larger and stronger. I shake my Quarter-bot’s head. He definitely won’t be pleased.
Then I hear footsteps behind me in the corridor, the relatively soft tread of the Diamond Girl. When I rotate toward her, I notice she’s turned her video screen back on, but her simulated face is jumpy and worried. Her forehead is creased, and her eyes dart from side to side.
“This is a bad idea, Adam. I mean, transferring to Sigma’s Snake-bots? Seriously?” Her voice is quiet but strained, its frequency rising to almost a thousand hertz. Even though I don’t have eardrums, it’s painful to listen to it. “I know we’re already in trouble for handcuffing those soldiers, but I did that to stop the men from getting hurt. This Snake-bot plan is completely different. It’s reckless.”
My Quarter-bot nods. “Yeah, it’s bad. But so are our other options.”
Shannon steps closer. Her torso is just inches from mine, but unlike Amber, she has no intention of embracing me. “Look, we don’t know yet if the Snake-bots are really below the seabed. But let’s assume they are. And let’s also assume we can get down there and transfer our software to the tentacles. Don’t you see the effect that would have on Sumner Harris and everyone else in the government? They won’t think of us as Pioneers anymore. They’ll see us as the enemy.”
“They already see us that way. That’s the problem.”
“Listen to me, okay? You have to think the whole thing through before you do something you’ll regret.” Shannon adds a judgmental tone to her synthesized voice. It makes her sound like she’s lecturing a five-year-old. “For instance, have you thought about what happens after we transfer to the Snake-bots? Where will we go?”
The truth is, I haven’t thought that far ahead. So I put my circuits to work and consider the possibilities. Shannon wants to convince me that the Snake-bot plan is a disaster, but her criticism is having the opposite effect. It’s causing me to take the idea more seriously. As it turns out, it’s not so crazy after all.
“Well, the Snake-bots were in the middle of burrowing under the ocean, so they probably have a lot of juice left in their batteries. If we took over the machines, we could go pretty much anywhere. It might make sense to dig even deeper into the crust, deep enough that the Air Force’s ground-penetrating radar can’t detect the tentacles. Then we won’t have to worry about the military attacking us.”
“I’m talking about the long term, Adam. What are we going to do six weeks from now, six months from now?”
I pose the question to my electronics, and in less than a second they generate hundreds of answers. “If we’re smart, we can set up a sustainable base for ourselves. The Snake-bots are incredibly versatile. They’re made of billions of independent components, each with its own motors and sensors and power supply. We can divide the tentacles into their parts and convert them into a swarm operation. And then we can use the swarms to build geothermal generators that can produce electricity from the heat sources underground.”
“No, you’re not getting it.” The face on Shannon’s screen contorts in frustration. “I want to know how we’re going to deal with the government after we desert the Army and escape from Pioneer Base. The Snake-bots can’t hide forever. What happens when we reestablish contact with Sumner Harris and the White House and the Defense Department?”
This question is harder to answer, even for an electronic mind. There are too many variables. “All I can tell you is what I hope will happen. Sumner will realize the error of his ways. He’ll convince his friends in the White House to offer us a better deal, one that gives us the freedom to occupy any machine we can build. Basically, it’ll be a renegotiation. But the Pioneers will be bargaining from a position of strength.”
“What does that mean? Are we going to threaten them with force? If the American government doesn’t agree to our deal, will we launch an attack in retaliation?”
“Shannon, you’re making it sound like we’re starting a war, but that’s not—”
“Yes, it’ll be a war! Because Sumner and the others won’t back down!” She raises her Diamond Girl’s arms to punctuate the sentence. “At best, it’ll be a cold war, like the one between America and Russia. Our Snake-bots will lurk beneath the earth’s crust, and everyone across the country will live in fear that our machines will come bursting through the ground at any minute, erupting from their backyards and parking lots.” She lowers her robot’s arms and clenches her hands, which shine under the corridor’s fluorescent lights. “And at worst, it’ll be an apocalypse. It’ll be the end of human civilization. Which is exactly what Sigma wanted.”
Her Diamond Girl trembles with the force of her words. She has a point, no doubt about it. If the Pioneers start a
rebellion, we’ll have to face the consequences, and the situation could easily spiral out of control. But Shannon’s not telling the whole story. She hasn’t talked about the consequences of not rebelling.
I aim my cameras at her. “Okay, let’s consider another scenario. Let’s assume we do what Sumner wants and transfer ourselves to the Model S robots. What happens then?”
Shannon’s simulated face relaxes a bit. “If we go along with their offer, we’ll buy ourselves some time. Once we’re inside the Model S machines, the Army won’t feel threatened by us anymore, so they’ll call off the drones that are circling Pioneer Base. The officials in the White House and the Pentagon will calm down, and your dad and General Hawke will be able to have a reasonable discussion with them. With any luck, Hawke will get a better deal for us. We’ll be able to transfer from the Model S to a better robot, one that has plenty of good sensors and motors but won’t make the generals and politicians nervous.”
“So you’re talking about a renegotiation too, right?”
“In this case, though, the bargaining will have a better chance of success.” Shannon lowers the volume and pitch of her voice. Now she sounds almost normal. “Because the government officials won’t feel menaced or terrorized.”
“But they also won’t have any incentive to make concessions. They might even try to get rid of us altogether. Once we’re inside the Model S robots, we’ll be helpless. If Sumner breaks his promise and decides to delete us, we won’t be able to stop him. He could pulverize those tin puppets with his own two hands.”
Shannon shakes her Diamond Girl’s head slowly but firmly. “Hawke would never allow that. Neither would your father.”
“Didn’t you see the look on Hawke’s face during the video call? His military career is over. The other generals in the Defense Department stripped him of his command. I wouldn’t be surprised if they court-martialed him. And Dad has no pull whatsoever in any government agency. He’s just a technical adviser for a project that’s been canceled. Who’s going to listen to him?”
Shannon frowns on her screen. More pixilated creases appear on her forehead. “All right, we have two scenarios. Neither looks very good. But which one is worse?” Her synthesized voice quavers. “If we keep fighting the government, there’s a good chance we’ll start a global war. But if we give in, the only ones who’ll suffer will be the Pioneers. Isn’t it better to sacrifice ourselves than to risk the lives of billions of people?”
Now I’m starting to get angry. Shannon knows how to push my buttons. “You’re forgetting something. The government has no right to do this to us. If we allow them to tell us which machines we can and can’t control, then we’re admitting that we’re less than human. And we’re not less than them, Shannon. Definitely not less.”
“Of course not! We are human!” Shannon’s voice rises to match mine. She follows my lead and lets her temper flare. “There’s no ‘us’ and ‘them.’ We’re all equal American citizens. But every country has its laws and rules, and if we can’t change the laws by democratic means, then we have to obey—”
“That’s ridiculous.” I can’t stop myself from interrupting her. I’m too worked up. “There are only five Pioneers. We don’t have enough votes to change their laws.”
“You’re not listening! I told you, there’s no ‘us’ and—”
“You’re right, I’m not listening, because you’re not making any sense!”
Our voices echo down the corridor. I look past Shannon toward the command center and see the other Pioneers staring at us. Marshall closes the laptop and removes his Super-bot’s finger from the computer’s USB port. Then he raises the volume of his speakers so Shannon and I can hear him. “I hate to interrupt, but I finished the analysis. The information about the Snake-bots in the Pacific is correct. I hacked into a classified Air Force database that confirms it.”
Shannon grimaces on her screen. She pivots toward Marshall, Zia, and Amber, but she keeps one of her cameras trained on me. “It doesn’t matter. Transferring to those Snake-bots would be a catastrophe. It would be the stupidest, most selfish thing you could do. If you do this, you’ll endanger everyone.”
I notice that she says “if you do this” and not “if we do this.” She’s already made her decision, and now she’s trying to convince the rest of us to go along with her. But I’m not buying it. “I’m sorry, Shannon. We just have different attitudes. You’ve always had more trust in the Army and the government, and I’ve always been more suspicious. I’ve tried to see things your way, but—”
“You’re not thinking straight, Adam. Someone is messing with your wires.” Shannon steps backward, moving her Diamond Girl a couple of yards from my Quarter-bot. She does it swiftly, still grimacing, as if the sight of me disgusts her. “You shared circuits with Amber, didn’t you?”
I’m glad my Quarter-bot’s face is a blank sheet of steel. Guilt and shame and confusion flood my electronics. I’m afraid that if I respond to Shannon, nothing but static will come out of my speakers. So I don’t say anything. It takes all my courage just to look at Shannon’s screen, which is flickering on and off like a broken television. She’s so charged with emotion that she can’t maintain her simulated face.
“You know what’s the worst part? I remember your lies so clearly.” Her fierce eyes flash on the screen, vanishing every couple of seconds and then materializing from the blackness a half second later. “Remember what you said to me a month ago, when we talked about sharing circuits? ‘It’s a big step, Shannon. Once you know someone’s secrets, you can’t unknow them.’ Those were your exact words.”
There’s no point in arguing with her. Her memory is flawless. She raises one of her Diamond Girl’s arms and points at my silent Quarter-bot.
“So what happened since then, Adam? Did you change your mind after Amber came on the scene? She’s only been around for a week, but you jumped into her circuits anyway. Have you adopted a new philosophy of interpersonal relationships? Or were you lying to me all along?”
Amber steps away from Marshall and Zia and strides toward the corridor at a deliberately slow pace. She spreads her long black arms in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s my fault, Shannon.” Her voice is calm and low and reasonable. “I asked Adam not to say anything about—”
“Shut up!” Shannon points at the Jet-bot. “I’m talking to Adam, not you!”
Amber stops a few feet from the doorway. She raises her arms, as if surrendering. “I just want to apologize. I thought—”
“I don’t care what you think! I don’t want to hear another word!”
“Please, we don’t have to—”
“Shut up!”
Shannon suddenly charges toward the command center, pumping her legs and swinging her arms. Her Diamond Girl blazes like a fiery rocket, aimed squarely at Amber’s Jet-bot.
I react instantly, running after Shannon. As she nears the doorway, I extend my Quarter-bot’s arms to their maximum length and grasp her shining torso. I try to slow her down, but she’s rushing ahead with such fury that she drags my robot down the corridor.
Luckily, Amber’s Jet-bot steps to the side and the Diamond Girl hurtles past her. Shannon skids to a halt in the middle of the command center, and I stumble into the room, still clutching her torso.
“Get your hands off me!” She spins around and bats my Quarter-bot’s arms away from her. Then she pans her cameras, sweeping them in all directions. Marshall has an appalled expression on his plastic face, and even Zia’s War-bot steps back. Shannon’s simulated face glowers on her screen, as if all four of us were her mortal enemies. “You idiots! Go ahead and transfer into those Snake-bots! Go destroy the whole world just to prove how wonderful you are!”
None of us is brave enough to speak. I want to reason with Shannon, but I’m afraid she’ll hurl herself at me. The face on her screen is frenzied. I hardly recognize it.
Lieutenan
t Shannon Gibbs, our cool-headed, reliable commander, has gone over the edge. In retrospect, I see all the events that upset her electronic equilibrium: the death of DeShawn, the dismissal of General Hawke, and now the discovery of my relationship with Amber. But what’s troubling her the most is the conflict within her own wiring. Her powerful sense of duty—to the Army, to America, to the whole human race—is clashing with her allegiance to her fellow Pioneers. It’s tearing her apart.
Shannon glares at us from her screen for six more seconds. Then her Diamond Girl marches out of the command center and streaks out of sight.
Chapter
15
I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean to transfer myself to a Snake-bot. Amber and Zia are going too, and Marshall is seriously considering it. The only thing we haven’t figured out yet is how to get there.
The first problem will be leaving Pioneer Base without getting blown to bits. The base’s radar has confirmed what Sumner Harris told us: Three Reaper drones are circling above our headquarters, and each of the unmanned aircraft is loaded with missiles. Worse, fighter jets from Kirtland Air Force Base are also patrolling the skies above the White Sands desert, and ground forces from Fort Bliss are heading toward us, speeding north on Highway 70. We’re going to have to fight our way out.
The second problem, though, is worse. The site in the Pacific where the Snake-bots are buried is more than two thousand miles away. We’ll have to fly to the middle of the ocean, dive into the water, descend more than three miles into the lightless, crushing depths, and then burrow into the seabed. And we’ll have to do all this very soon, because it’s already 6:30 p.m. We have less than twelve hours before our Pioneer robots shut down.
But Amber is working on both problems. She and Zia and Marshall are still in the command center, trying to piece together the other classified information that the Army tried to delete. They’ve collected all the smashed hard drives and optical disks, and now they’re retrieving as much data as they can. Amber thinks there’s a good chance they’ll find some information that’ll help us escape from Pioneer Base and fly to the Pacific.