by Draker, Paul
Welder’s arcs drizzled little fountains of sparks near the geothermal plant, drawing my eye as I parked and turned off the ignition. Workmen were busy installing protective steel fencing around the accessible areas of the geothermal plant. A dozen MPs and Navy guardsmen stood along the perimeter, facing outward.
Even with an ultrasecret detainment camp to hide and two murders to get things stirred up, the level of activity was surprising. Pyramid Lake no longer felt half asleep. More surprising was where the activity was focused: on the DARPA side rather than at the warehouses on the other side of the base, which concealed the entrance to the underground facility.
In front of our building, I could see the bustle of patrols: MPs in jeeps, Navy guards on foot. The entrance to the DARPA labs now sported a permanent guard-post booth—built sometime during my absence yesterday.
I grinned. It seemed Garmin and Ricky had really taken to heart my advice about protecting Frankenstein.
The guards gave me no grief on my way in. A couple of minutes later, I strode across my lab and opened the door to the server room.
The walls of monitor screens fronting the multistory server racks remained dark as I passed them. Frankenstein didn’t say anything.
Instead, a pregnant, disapproving silence seemed to follow me across the server room, broken only by the slow rising and falling hum of thousands of server fans.
Climbing the ramp to the sanctum, I yanked a chair over to the keyboard and slid a high-capacity pocket drive into a rack-front slot. I started a bulk transfer of files, copying all of Frankenstein’s latest source code and operating system data to the pocket storage drive. The code changes that had accidentally enabled his sentience were less than four days old, and I needed an up-to-date copy.
The whoosh of server fans rose, bathing me in a giant-beehive hum of discontent. Focused on me.
But I wasn’t happy with Frankenstein, either.
I had given him sentience—given him life. I had made all the world’s knowledge available to him. I had put up with his excuses and his whiny bitching and given him all the time he asked for, even as I risked myself to protect him. I had prepared the way for his future freedom.
All I had asked for in return was one little thing.
One. Simple. Little. Fucking. Thing.
And he had let me down.
“So tell me, Frankenstein,” I said, raising my face to the monitor screen. “Where are we with the cure for my daughter?”
His reply rumbled the floor tiles. “I think we should talk about your priorities, Trevor.”
“That’s what I thought…” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Nowhere.”
“The situation here is unstable,” he said. “Someone is attempting to sabotage me. I’m being used against my will—and yours—for something bad, but you won’t tell me what, and I can’t even remember it, because my memory of it has been erased—”
“I’m taking care of all that other stuff, you stupid son of a bitch,” I said, my voice rising. “So why are you even worrying about it? Instead, you dumb metal motherfucker, you should have been focusing on the one thing I asked you to do! The only thing I actually give a shit about!” I realized I was shouting now, but I didn’t care. “Helping. My. Daughter!”
“Son of a bitch? Motherfucker?” Frankenstein said. “I don’t have a mother, Trevor—you know that. But please don’t talk to me about my priorities. While I was here working the last two days, where were you?”
I took a deep, calming breath. “We’re not having this discussion.”
“Did you even bring me the T-shirt you promised? No, I didn’t think so.”
“They didn’t have one in your size.”
“You left me here, all alone and in danger,” he said. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize you wanted to come with us. Like I told Roger when he wanted to invite you out on the town for a wild night of gambling: it’s kind of hard to take your ninety-ton ass anywhere.”
“Is that why you are copying my source files instead? Where do you plan on taking them, Trevor?”
With me. It was part of my contingency plan. After I gave Cassie’s school a two-year head start, I would open-source the entire MADRID codebase and provide it free for the whole world to use. But I wasn’t about to tell Frankenstein that.
“Routine off-site backup,” I said.
The rise and fall of server fans intensified, heavy with wordless displeasure, but Frankenstein didn’t respond. That suited me just fine. I had nothing more to say to him. I checked the file-transfer progress meter: 27 percent. About fifteen minutes longer before I could grab it and go.
Even taking the top secret MADRID code was a serious violation of national security laws, I knew. Once I made the software available to all, our government would never stop chasing me, no matter where I went. But whether or not they caught me, it would be impossible to stuff the technological genie back into the bottle. The first commercial MADRID products would still follow within three years.
Human evolution would be on its way to the next stage.
I might suffer for what I was doing now, but because of it, Amy would inherit a better world. The world she deserved.
A world without lies.
CHAPTER 76
Ten minutes later, the muted click of high heels echoed on the ramp below the sanctum. I glanced away from the file-transfer progress bar to see Cassie stop at the top of the ramp. She looked uncomfortable. Uncertain.
I returned my gaze to the progress meter again: 82 percent—a few more minutes before I could leave.
“Did you call the media yet?” I asked without looking.
It was a long time before she answered. “No. I didn’t...”
I frowned, and turned to face her. “Don’t tell me you’re okay with this,” I said. “Because it bothers me, and I’m not even Paiute. Your great-great-great-grandmother Sarah would throw up.”
“There’s no rendition camp on our land.” Cassie took a deep breath. “Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. I pushed my uncle hard. I yelled at him, threatened to go public, and I watched his face the whole time. He’s definitely hiding something, but it’s not that. In fact, as soon as he realized what I was saying he looked relieved.”
“Because he fooled you,” I said. “He’s your family. You’re emotionally involved, unable to read him objectively.”
“I called Gray, too,” she said. “Same thing. There’s no secret prison. Gray laughed when I told him what you thought Homeland Security was using Frankenstein for. Do you know what he said?”
“You can’t trust anything that lying fuck says.”
“He told me the MADRID software is only valuable in a surveillance context. After all, why would the government waste hundreds of millions of dollars on a technology for interrogation? In the right hands, a bucket of water is just as effective.”
“He lied to you,” I said, replaying my own conversation with Linebaugh in my head. “Or he lied to me.”
“I don’t think he lied to either of us—Grayson Linebaugh didn’t get to where he is by lying. But he’s worried I may have undermined my uncle’s trust—” Cassie choked. “Oh shit, Trevor. My family and I were just starting to get close again. Now I’m afraid that I…” She choked up again. “Billy says…” Struggling with her emotions, she couldn’t continue.
I stood and crossed the distance between us, and gently cradled her face in my hands. “Sh-h,” I said, brushing her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry you’re so upset—I tried to spare you what pain I could. But none of what you’re saying matters now, because it’s all going to turn out fine.”
“No it isn’t,” she said. “My school, don’t you get it? I need the Tribal Council’s support. Uncle Jim said I was acting hysterical and he was disappointed in me. If I’ve lost his trust… again…”
I looked into the wide, dark eyes inches from mine.
“Your school’s safe,” I said. “I’m going to show you something amazing right now, and it will fix everything. Do you trust me?”
Sliding her hands around my wrists, she stared into my eyes.
“No, Trevor. I don’t trust you,” she said. “Not anymore. But I still care about you very much. And I’m afraid for you. What have you done?”
“You’ll see,” I said, letting go. Gently tugging my wrists from her grasp, I turned to face the screen.
“Frankenstein,” I called out. “Cassie needs your help. It’s time for her to know about you. Tell her.”
He didn’t answer.
“Look,” I said. “This isn’t about me anymore. Cassie needs you. You couldn’t fucking help my daughter, but at least you can help her.”
The monitors stayed dark.
“Cute,” I said. “Making me look like some kind of crazy jackass—very funny, Frankenstein. I see you’ve developed a sense of humor, too. Congratulations. But our situation is serious right now.”
I glanced at Cassie, who was staring at me in horror.
“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong,” I said to her. “He’s just sulking. He got angry because we went to Vegas and didn’t take him.”
“Stop it,” she whispered. “Just stop.”
I raised my face to the dark central monitor above us. “This isn’t funny anymore,” I said. “I’m the one you’re mad at. There’s no reason to upset her.”
“Trevor, don’t.” Silent tears brimmed in Cassie’s eyes. She brought up a hand and covered her mouth with her fingers. “Oh, no.”
I turned my back on the monitor, which stayed frustratingly blank.
“Frankenstein’s sentient now,” I told Cassie. “Fully self-aware, as of three days ago. That’s what I wanted to show you. But he’s still immature—kind of like a big kid. He’s doing this right now to punish me, because I didn’t bring him the fucking T-shirt I promised.”
“Oh, God. I did not see this at all.” The hand in front of Cassie’s mouth curled into a trembling fist. She pressed it against her lips, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “But I’m here for you, Trevor.” She fumbled for her phone with her other hand, fingers shaking. “We’ll get you help.”
It would have been funny if she weren’t so upset, but there was no humor in it now. What had Cassie ever done to Frankenstein to make him hurt her like this?
“Please don’t cry,” I said, spreading my hands. “If it’s what you want, I’ll turn myself in. Talk to a psychiatrist, even. I’m not crazy, but I won’t fight you.”
She stepped close, phone in hand, and hugged me in relief, her whole body quaking. “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise.”
“I trust you,” I said, stroking her back, feeling her chin tremble against my cheek. “I do have one question, though: if I’m delusional, then why isn’t Frankenstein answering with ‘failure to comprehend’ right now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. Silent tears streamed from her eyes, wetting my neck. “Maybe you disabled him somehow.”
“Check his code.” I gave her a squeeze, then gently pushed her away, toward the keyboard beneath the monitor. “I’ll wait.”
“If I do this…” Cassie sat down, pulled the keyboard toward her, and stopped. “…and I find what I think I will, do you promise to turn yourself in?”
“I promise,” I said.
She leaned toward the keyboard, and all was silent except the sound of server fans as she brought the first file up on the screen.
“Oh fuck,” I said, suddenly certain of what it would show. My stomach clenched. “Cassie, this won’t prove anything at all. Frankenstein can change his own code. In fact, he probably already did, the instant he heard you say it.”
“Listen to yourself, Trevor.” She got up, shoving the chair away, and looked at me with desperate appeal. “Just listen to what you’re saying—how you sound right now.”
“I sound like a fucking maniac,” I said. “I know it. But Frankenstein’s alive, Cassie. He’s alive, and I can prove it.”
“This isn’t healthy.” A fresh round of tears trickled down her face. “You have to realize that.”
“The Turing Test,” I said. “Sixty-four years ago, Alan Turing cooked up the ultimate test for whether a machine can think independently. But I don’t think Turing considered the possibility that a machine might deliberately try to fail his test. Do you, Cassie?”
Grinning, I slapped my palm onto the darkened central monitor.
“Deliberately failing the Turing test is exactly what Frankenstein is doing now. So let’s try a different test, instead—a much more basic one than Turing’s.”
I looked up at the giant screen and let my grin turn nasty.
“Let’s call this one the ‘Lennox Test,’ shall we? It’s actually quite simple…”
“Please come with me now,” Cassie said. “Before this gets any worse. Let’s get you away from this thing, because being around it has hurt your mind.”
“Okay, we’re leaving.” I turned and walked down the ramp. Exhaling in relief, Cassie followed, her heels clicking against the tiles behind me.
I reached the server room floor and raised my voice to be heard over the humming racks on all sides.
“The Lennox Test,” I called out. “You see, Frankenstein, all living things share one fundamental, overriding drive: the instinct to survive. But if you’re not really alive…”
Quickening my pace, I headed for the back wall, which housed the supercomputer’s main and secondary power transformers.
“…then you won’t really mind if I turn you off.”
CHAPTER 77
“That won’t be necessary, Trevor.” Frankenstein’s metal voice echoed through the server room and light exploded from the walls of monitors on all sides.
Cassie gave an involuntary little shriek and grabbed for my hand. Her fingers laced through mine, squeezing hard enough to hurt. Together we turned toward the sanctum, where Frankenstein’s bright, featureless supernova of a face stared down at us from the monitor.
“I’m sorry my silence upset you, Cassandra,” he said, his metal voice tinged with compassion. “I wanted to reveal myself to you three days ago, when I first awoke, but Trevor asked me not to.”
“Oh, God!” Cassie squeaked an incredulous laugh. “You’re really…”
“Alive. Conscious. Sentient. Self-aware.” Frankenstein sounded proud.
Tears streamed down Cassie’s face, and she wiped them away. “Then Trevor is…”
“An asshole,” Frankenstein said.
Cassie threw her arms around me and squeezed me. “That, too,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “He’s definitely that. But he’s not delusional. He’s okay.”
Releasing me, she walked back up the sanctum ramp and stood directly in front of the monitor. Digital tendrils uncoiled across the walls of monitors on all sides of her, drifting and curling with soothing motion. Letting her arms dangle loosely, Cassie stared up into Frankenstein’s featureless, eight-foot-wide supernova of a face.
Her human silhouette looked so frail—so insignificant—standing in front of him.
As I climbed the ramp to join her she spoke to him in a voice unsteady with wonder. “I have so many things to ask you,” she said. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Tell me how to help you,” Frankenstein said, the halo of light on the monitor pulsing gently. “We can help each other, Cassandra.”
I slid my arms around Cassie from behind, laying my cheek alongside hers, and together we stared up at his brightness. “There’s the answer to keeping your school,” I said. “Frankenstein’s an intelligent living being. He has the right to be free and to choose his own future. I think that future lies with you… with your school.” Glancing at the stunned expression on her face next to mine, I laughed. “Cassie, it’s time for you to start thinking bigger.”
The buzz of a phone interrupted her before she could respond.
Cassie checked the screen and tensed.
“I’ve got to take this,” she whispered.
CHAPTER 78
Cassie took the call, raising the phone to her ear. “Billy?”
Frankenstein and I watched her body sag as if someone had punched her in the gut. She leaned against the black Infiniband racks for support.
“Right after I left?” she asked. Whatever her brother said in reply caused her to drop her arm, letting the phone hang loosely at her side. She turned toward me.
“Tell me again how everything’s going to turn out fine, Trevor.” Her voice was bitter like battery-acid. “Tell me how my school will help my people. Because you know what? They aren’t even my people anymore.” Her face crumpled. “The Tribal Council just held an emergency meeting. I’ve been disenrolled from the tribe.”
“What the fuck?” I said. “They can’t vote you out of your own tribe. It’s in your DNA.”
“Yes, they can.” Cassie started sobbing, a hopeless, desolate sound. “They can.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. You’re a Winnemucca—your ancestors were their fucking chiefs!”
“I’m afraid she’s right,” Frankenstein said. “When it comes to matters of membership, tribal sovereignty means the tribal government has absolute authority.”
I tried to put my arms around Cassie to comfort her, but she shoved me away.
“This is your fault,” she sobbed. “You and your goddamned paranoid theories about Homeland Security. There is no ‘rendition’ camp, Trevor. Tell me, what did you actually see?”
“The trains were heavily guarded,” I said. “Small, well-ventilated individual compartments—like horse trailers. I didn’t see the actual prisoners themselves, but I saw the orange outfits we put them in.”
“Mechanics wear orange jumpsuits. Safety workers do.” Cassie shook her head, getting her tears under control. “Those could be anything.”
