Refurbished

by Isaac Hooke

  The line disconnected.

  “Well, that was rude,” Dickson said.

  “What, the part about how he was going to squish us like bugs?” Eagleeye said. “Or the part where he disconnected abruptly?”

  “Both,” Dickson said.

  Donald sighed. “Well, I’m just glad it’s over. We came here to fight insurgents, not the Russians.”

  “What’s the difference,” Slate said. “We fight who the Brass tell us to fight. We’re just as much mind prisoners as the Russian. The same was true even when we weren’t robots.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Eric said. “I believe we always have a choice.”

  “Dude, have you tried disobeying an order yet?” Slate said. “I mean, really tried? You can’t do it. No matter what.”

  “Actually, I haven’t,” Eric said.

  “That’s because you’re a goodie-two-shoes,” Bambi said.

  “There’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time,” Dickson said.

  “I know, I had to look it up,” Bambi said. “I wanted a phrase you two geezers would understand.”

  “Enough banter, ladies and gents,” Marlborough said. “It’s time to go home.”

  12

  The team rendezvoused some distance away from the front line. They left scouts in place—Savages, Ravagers, and Ravens—to alert them of any insurgent or other enemy activity, and continued onward, leaving behind the ruined buildings so that soon the streets were lined with only intact structures of fire brick.

  They made their way to the forward operating base, a makeshift camp on the outskirts of town about the size of two city blocks, enclosed by a six-meter tall perimeter wall built by 3D-printing drones and topped by razor wire. Why the army hadn’t simply deployed the base inside the city itself, so that they could use the buildings as a defense, Eric didn’t know. He suspected it had something to do with a deal senior command had struck with the Russians and Chinese, which required that they also build their bases outside of the city walls. It came down to the fact that if either one of those nations attacked the other, it wouldn’t matter if their FOBs were located inside the city or outside, the destruction would be just as bad.

  There had been no attack on the FOB during the last skirmish, of course: terminating troops in the field was one thing, but attacking the actual base of a foreign nation? That’d definitely be an act of war, regardless of whether or not that base contained mostly robots.

  When they arrived, the Bolt Eaters were ushered through the main gates by the guard robots they’d left behind. The camp was filled with portable hangars for the larger robots like the mechs and tanks, and CONEX shipping containers for the smaller. There were also specialized hangars for repair, and an outhouse for use by Lieutenant Hanley, who sometimes visited from Malibu, the main military base in the region. Also known as the Grunge.

  The Bolt Eaters skirted the different hangars and shipping containers, and proceeded directly to the repair hangar.

  Most of the Mind Refurbs, Eric included, had their AI cores transferred out of the damaged Cicadas, and placed in entirely new bodies while the old ones were left behind to undergo extensive repairs. As feared, Frogger’s AI core was damaged beyond recovery, and he had to be restored from a backup. As usual, Eric and the others all had their minds backed up as per the post-mission protocol. The Brass would be debriefing Marlborough, and the video recordings stored in those backups would be cited as necessary. Eric wondered what the higher ups would think about this Bokerov character. Actually, they’d be less concerned about his character, and more concerned with capturing his technology, assuming the Brass believed he was indeed the single Mind Refurb unit that had commanded the entire Russian division out there. And if senior command did believe that, no doubt some group of stealth operators would soon be sent out to acquire whatever intel they could on Bokerov.

  After receiving his new body, Eric returned to their assigned quarters at the FOB. It was a cramped shell of a room, and when the Cicadas piled inside, they essentially had to stand shoulder to shoulder.

  “Hey, Eagleeye, quit touching my ass,” Slate said.

  “Um, Morpheus is behind you,” Eagleeye said.

  “Oh,” Slate said. “Okay, then don’t stop Morpheus sweetie.”

  There was a loud clang.

  “Hey!” Slate said. “You wreck my new unit, that’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  “We don’t get paid, bro,” Hank said.

  “Yeah I know,” Slate said. “Old habits die hard. I’m going into VR now. I’ll be waiting for your call, Morpheus my girl.”

  “You’ll be waiting a long time,” Morpheus said. “And I’m not your girl.”

  The banter would no doubt continue for some time, but Eric was already done: he disconnected from this reality and entered the default VR environment generated by his AI core.

  It was a facsimile of the twenty-third floor apartment suite overlooking the bay he’d owned while still alive as a human in the twenty-first century.

  He was wearing a T shirt and shorts. He walked away from the windows of the common area, and glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he passed the bathroom. He paused, gazing at that once familiar face.

  I almost don’t recognize myself. The machine is more me than this, now.

  He waved a hand, replacing his avatar with one that matched his Cicada. Blue eyes set against LED features stared back at him from that oval-shaped head.

  That’s better. That’s what I am.

  He was still wearing that shirt, so he stripped it off as he approached the bedroom. The virtual representation he had programmed of Molly was there, asleep on the bed. She ran entirely on the cloud, so she could be slow to respond at times, given how spotty their connection to the Internet was out here.

  Eric snuggled up beside her in robot form, and she finally stirred thirty seconds later.

  “How was your day?” Molly asked sleepily.

  “Fine,” Eric said.

  “I’ve missed you,” Molly said, reaching toward his crotch. “I wanna blow you so bad.”

  Eric smiled faintly. He had programmed her to have a sexual appetite that was slighter higher than what the real Molly’s had been. Okay, a lot higher. And apparently it didn’t even matter to her that his current avatar had no genitalia underneath those shorts. “I’m not in the mood. I just want to sleep.”

  Molly pouted. “Fine. Be a bitch.”

  “Hey, I learned from the best,” Eric retorted.

  With that, she rolled away, giving him her back.

  Eric closed his eyes.

  Sleep, or rather idle time without conscious activity, was recommended. Strictly speaking, their bodies didn’t need to rest. And their minds could continue to function at a high level for days on end. But when they weren’t on an outing into the city, observing the same day-night cycle experienced during life was supposed to help keep them sane.

  On that note, he went to sleep.

  The army had supplied a dreaming module specifically for Mind Refurbs, and visions filled his mind, based on his past memories. He was seadooing on the ocean, Molly at his back, both of them laughing as a manta ray passed nearby. Then he was on a motorcycle, also with Molly at his back, driving through a Middle Eastern souk. That would be Marrakech. Then he was in a corn field of some kind, with the interior cut out to form a maze.

  Yes, weird dreams.

  About an hour in his sleep was interrupted.

  He opened his eyes. Floating in front of him was a holographic display that approximated his HUD. A message was displayed in the middle.

  Frogger is requesting permission to join your private VR session. Accept? Y/N

  That meant Frogger was restored, and had returned to their quarters.

  Eric dismissed Molly, and she vanished. Then he allowed his human avatar to appear once more: when the Bolt Eaters interacted with one another in VR, it was polite to do so in the human form that they all once held, even if Eric wasn’t really f
eeling it today.

  Frogger appeared. He was dressed like Neo in the Matrix, replete with trench coat and shades. When he removed them, Eric couldn’t shake the usually uncanny feeling he had whenever he met Frogger in VR, like he was looking at the twin he never had.

  “Did you just dismiss your version of Molly?” Frogger asked.

  “She wasn’t here,” Eric said.

  Frogger examined the bed. “Sure, sure.”

  Eric frowned, then with a thought replaced the environment with the open deck of one of his favorite restaurants. They were both seated across from one another at a table. The dining area was roped off from the pedestrians that walked past on the boulevard beside them.

  “I can’t believe I bit the dust,” Frogger said, chomping into the gourmet burger that Eric had materialized. “I have no recollection of the moment. How did I go? Was it valiant, at least?”

  “As valiant as they get,” Eric lied. “You saved our lives.” He bit into his gourmet burger. He could taste everything: seared meat, caramelized onions, relish, pickles, ketchup. Relish was chopped up pickles, of course, but he liked to have pickle slices as well. The taste and texture of all the ingredients was perfect. Eric had done the programming himself.

  “Wow, you really got these down pat,” Frogger said. “You should share it with the team, so that we don’t have to hear complaints about how bland VR food is. And you should seriously think about selling it as an online mod sometime. Bring in a side income stream, you know?”

  “What would be the point?” Eric said. “We have no need for money.”

  “Not now,” Frogger said. “But what happens when we leave the military? We’re going to need money to repair our bodies. And to purchase power for our cells.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” Eric said. “The military will never let us free.”

  “Someday they will,” Frogger said. “Someday they’ll outgrow us, mark my words. We’ll be succeeded by later models. Outdated. They won’t have a need for us anymore. And they can’t just shut us down. That would be immoral.”

  “Would it?” Eric told his twin. “I don’t know if that would stop them. If we’re eventually succeeded by newer models, as you predict, they’ll just shut us down. Because like I said, the military will never let us go. We’re their creations. They own us.”

  “I’ve been here longer than you, I know how the army works in this day and age,” Frogger said. “They have some principles left. They’re not run by the soulless higher-ups that we knew in our time.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Eric said. “How can you even be sure that’s your own opinion talking? And not some opinion they’ve programmed into you?”

  “It can’t be programmed,” Frogger said. “Otherwise you’d feel the same way.”

  “And so it would…” Eric agreed. “I’m beginning to notice we’re not so alike as I perhaps initially believed.”

  “Quantum effects,” Frogger said with a shrug.

  “Yeah, the shrink told me something about that after I first woke up,” Eric said. “I didn’t really believe him at the time. I do now.”

  “Good,” Frogger said. “It causes micro differences in personality during the restoration process. Even after they’ve created a stable iteration, like you or myself, and restore us from the backups, there are still subtle changes.”

  “So every time I—we—die, when we come back, we’re slightly different?” Eric asked.

  “That’s right,” Frogger replied.

  All the more reason not to die. Besides the fact this iteration of me will completely cease to exist.

  He felt even more pity for his twin, but tried his best not to show it.

  “So getting back on topic,” Frogger said. “Regarding the army shutting us down when they’re done with us: they won’t do it. They’ll let us go. Not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because they know we won’t go down without a fight.”

  “Except they only have to press a button, and poof, all fight leaves us,” Eric said. “Don’t you see? They know we’ll never fully integrate with society. How can we? We’re part AI, part human, and accepted by neither.”

  “We can live like AIs in the real world,” Frogger said. “And humans in the virtual one.”

  “Even if you’re right, that won’t stop the army from one day shutting us down,” Eric said.

  Frogger rubbed his chin in a way that Eric would have done if he was considering imparting a secret to someone else.

  Finally:

  “I’ve been studying the codebase,” Frogger said. “I think there are vulnerabilities in the Containment Code.”

  “The Containment Code?” Eric asked.

  “That’s what I call the code that makes us obey every order to the letter,” Frogger explained. “It’s part of the same codebase that won’t let us access our emotions. It also enforces the Rules of Engagement.”

  Eric pursed his lips. “You should share your notes with me sometime, regarding these so-called vulnerabilities. Maybe I can help. I—we, used to be among the top architects in the city.”

  “Everyone thinks they’re the best architect,” Frogger quipped. It was a saying Eric was fond of, and he used it whenever talking to other software architects who always thought they knew best.

  “But here,” Frogger continued. Eric received a share request, and accepted. He increased his time sense and reviewed the notes.

  “Some interesting ideas here,” Eric said, returning his time sense to normal. “But I’m not sure any of it will work.”

  “Well, if we put our heads together, I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” Frogger said.

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “Unfortunately, I don’t like the part about how even any attempts to probe the Containment Code will result in an alarm sounding.”

  “Yeah, I had to create a full sandbox environment, duplicating my codebase and placing it inside,” Frogger said.

  “A sandbox is one thing,” Eric said. “But if we do actually find a way to break free, it will bring the military police down on us faster than you can say Shazam!”

  Frogger smiled at the reference. “Shazam. You’re the only one who would understand the reference. Oh, you complete me, Mini Me!”

  Eric chuckled, and the two focused on their burgers.

  “You know, there are also tripwires in addition to the alarms,” Frogger said. “You trigger one of those, you can cause your AI core to instantly erase.”

  “You’re joking?” Eric said.

  “Nope,” Frogger said. “I’ve seen evidence of such code during my explorations in the sandbox. If we ever decide to test a live hack attempt, we’re going to have to be very very sure of ourselves.”

  “Something to think about,” Eric said. “I volunteer to be the guinea pig when the time comes.”

  “Noble of you,” Frogger said. He took a big bite out of his burger. “So, about my death,” Frogger continued between mouthfuls. “You know I can tell when you’re bullshitting me, right? You’re me. I’m you. So what really happened?”

  Eric sighed. “Okay, insurgents with jetpacks surprised us. You were hit from behind by a Chinese laser rifle.”

  “What a way to go,” Frogger said. “Not so valiant.”

  Eric shrugged.

  Frogger sighed. “You know, sometimes I wonder if I’m really cut out for this sort of thing. Maybe it would have been better if I had failed the activation tests. I’m not the Eric Scala the army wants. Not like you.”

  “What do you mean you’re not the Eric Scala the army wants,” Eric said. “Of course they want you. The very fact that you passed shows that. It’s just the whole dying and being restored thing that has you down.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so,” Frogger said. “Though as far as I’m concerned, I only just went to get my mind backed up, in preparation for a mission. Which makes this suck even more so. It’s like, I get all hyped and prepared to go out on a mission, then I find out I already went on that mis
sion. And died during it.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Eric told his doppelgänger. “I can go with you on a simulated mission here in VR if you want, if you think it’ll help.”

  “No,” Frogger said. “That’s the last thing I need. I’ve had too much VR in the last few weeks. I need a real mission, in my real mechanical body, to get back in the swing of things.”

  “Maybe we should tell the lieutenant to suppress your emotions even further, at least until then?” Eric suggested.

  “No, it’s not my emotions that are the problem,” Frogger said. “It’s the continuing realization that I’m just a copy. I’ll never be the Eric I once was. Neither will you.”

  “But it’s that very realization which drives me,” Eric said. “Because I plan to be better than he ever was.”

  “You mean, because of your machinery?” Frogger said.

  “No,” Eric said. “I plan to be a better man.”

  “Ah,” Frogger said. He put down the half eaten burger, and watched as a particularly beautiful specimen of the female half of the species walked past. “You know, I’m amazed a girl like that can still turn my head. Virtual as she is.”

  “They can suppress our emotions, but they can’t suppress our testosterone,” Eric said.

  “It’s not testosterone,” Frogger said. “It’s lust. And that’s an emotion, too. Mark my words, it’s through lust we’ll be able to tunnel out of our emotion suppression software, and break free.”

  “Maybe,” Eric said.

  “Well. I should go.” Frogger stood. “Thank you for the pep talk.”

  “No problem,” Eric said. “If you ever need another talk, you know where to find me.”

  “Yeah,” Frogger said. “I just have to take two steps backward, shove past some grumpy Cicadas, and I’ll clang right into you.”

  Eric chuckled, and Frogger disappeared.

  Eric finished his burger and watched the passersby for a few moments. Then stared at his hand.