Alainn broke the kiss to whisper, “You know, I bet we’d be the first people to ever have sex while lying on the bottom of the sea.”
He gave her a tolerant smirk. “I’ll have to ask Rosebud to pull up this recording in two days.”
Alainn leaned into him, making an almost annoyed groan. “When it’s exactly twelve weeks, I won’t magically be any better than I am at eleven weeks, five days, and some-odd hours.”
He rocked her back and forth. “I’m just hoping that you won’t regress after tomorrow. We might have to wait another couple of days if you do.”
She gave him a warning glare, but didn’t say anything because he met the glare with a grin.
“Come on. Let’s get dinner a little early.”
“Oh, you routine breaker,” she teased. “Do I have to get down?”
“Definitely not.” He reinforced his hold under her and turned to the door. “You can even eat like this if you want to.”
Leaning her head into his shoulder she said, “I’d probably spill something on your suit.”
They passed through the lines of equipment in Lorccan’s personal gym. Alainn had known he’d snuck out every morning to work out, but while keeping up the facade of being a robot, she never really thought of a good excuse for joining him. The gym stretched an entire floor. Equipment of every type gleamed in eager lines across the walls. So far, the only equipment she was well enough to use was the room-size treadmill. They used it every day for their walks at five o’clock sharp.
The light followed, blinking off behind them as Lorccan walked out to the staircase and descended.
“You can take the elevator,” she told him, but thankfully, he ignored her and kept walking.
In the dining room, Lorccan paused by her side of the table. “Do you want your own seat, or would you rather spill food on me?” He sounded like he meant it.
Reluctantly, she set her feet back on the ground. Instead of wooden walls, around them Rosebud showed only sky. The city sat far below as tendrils of mist streamed past. Only their small dining area looked solid in the open expanse, as if they were on a raft floating through the fog.
When Lorccan began to step back, Alainn stepped forward. “Mr. Garbhan, I believe you owe me a checkers rematch, and we have just enough time before dinner.”
“A checkers rematch? Do you really like losing so much?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Ha ha,” she said dryly. “But I had an idea about how we could make the game more interesting.”
He regarded her very seriously. His light blue gaze attempted to bore through hers, but she kept her expression even. Finally, he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse, “Interesting?”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “If I win, you marry me.”
His hand came up, wiping the tear away. Voice roughening even more, he said, “When I said that, Alainn, I thought you’d be happy living here with me.”
“I am.”
He shook his head. “But not forever.”
“So I’ll leave sometimes and come back.” She threaded her hands around his back, under his jacket.
“I might never be able to—”
“I don’t care.”
“Live a normal life.”
“I don’t care,” she repeated, shaking her head.
“Alainn,” he whispered, leaning his head onto hers.
They stood there for several seconds, foreheads touching, as she worked up the courage to say what she needed to.
“My best friend, Cara . . . When Rose played that recording of her, I think that she meant to traumatize me so much that I wouldn’t be able to save you. But she did the opposite.”
When she paused, Lorccan stayed silent, waiting while she took several steadying breaths.
She continued, “A few days after Cara and I were kidnapped, I stopped fighting. I gave up, but Cara didn’t. She fought those men every second we were in there. My guess was that’s why she was tied to the car, and I was only tied at the wrists.”
His hands massaged her shoulders when she paused—a silent, patient support.
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t tell me she was tied to the car because she already knew I’d given up. She had me believing that we’d both make it out until that last second. All this time, I thought she’d pushed me out because she wanted to die. But no. Cara pushed me out because she knew I would have stayed with her. She must have known that if I lived, eventually I’d be happy I didn’t go over that cliff.”
“And are you happy you survived?” he whispered as his hands massaged her shoulders.
“Yeah. Because I fell in love with this guy and lost my heart,” she breathed a laugh. “Literally.”
He chuckled. “That you did.”
“I know you and I are both messy. Well, I’m messy and you’re exceptionally clean. What I mean is that we’re both a little messed up. But I think we’re better together. You make me want to be happy and grow old, fight to live, and all that.”
Lorccan lifted her up, set her on the table, and stepped in between her legs. “Alainn, I’ll marry you—or not. Whatever you want to do. It doesn’t matter to me. I told you already . . .” He lifted her hand, placing it on his chest. “My heart beats to love you. That’s not going to change, whether you leave tomorrow or stay with me for the rest of our lives.”
Leaning forward, she laughed because she was so damn happy, she couldn’t stop it.
His hand came up to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair. “I already married you once; you just didn’t know it.”
“Creepy,” she said, even though she couldn’t stop smiling and laughing.
He laughed, too. “Yeah, I guess it was a little strange.”
“So . . .” Her hands grabbed fistfuls of the front of his shirt as she leaned back to look at him. “Let’s skip checkers and just go get married.”
He kissed her. “Not yet.”
“You want to wait? Do you want to invite people or something?”
“Not really, though I’m open to talking about it. But I want to be married on a day where we can have a proper wedding night.”
She nodded furiously. “We can have a proper wedding night.”
He gave her a level look and slowly shook his head.
“Really, Lorccan?”
Leaning in, he kissed her once on each eyebrow, then quickly on her lips.
“Really, Alainn Murphy, my beautiful future wife.”
44
July 4, 2027
Rose 76GF peered around the courtroom slowly. Three hundred and fifty-one people had crowded into the courtroom—three people over the fire code limit. If she needed an escape plan, she could use this ratio to her advantage. Thankfully, the probability that she would need one was low. As it was, the overcrowding was irrelevant.
Their collective chatter was exhausting to feed through, so she turned down her input channels. The scientists she now worked among had told her that the overcrowded courtrooms were just a small sample of the hundreds of millions of humans worldwide who were following her case.
It had never been Rose’s intention to become such a spectacle for the humans, nor a quintessential paradox for society. Yet the fame had brought international interest in her formula. Perhaps even if TechniHealth did suppress the contagions within her formula, as they intended to do without her consent, the serum would still affect the level of population she intended to alter. No matter what the scientists did, eventually the AI injected into the humans’ brains would override any suppressants. Thus, the serum would itself become communicable.
A hush fell over the gathered crowd, and Rose turned. She perceived two faces she knew very well. Colby and Alainn Murphy moved down the center aisle of the courtroom, drawing the gathered attention of everyone there. Alainn had lost an approximate four to five pounds since Rose had last seen her.
For the first time that Rose had observed, Alainn wore light cosmetics on her cheeks. Likely the applied blush was to increa
se Alainn’s appearance of being in good health, she calculated. Though Rose thought this was not a good choice on her part if she wished to win the sympathy of the crowd for her heart transplant.
Allowing Alainn Murphy to stay in Mr. Garbhan’s bedroom had been a grave miscalculation. The likelihood that she would overcome Rosette and survive the hypoxia after strangulation had been extremely low, however. The probability that Alainn would lead Mr. Garbhan to medical rescue had been so infinitesimal that Rose had discounted it entirely. It was obvious to her now, but Rose had grossly miscalculated Alainn’s athleticism and willpower.
Alainn perhaps sensed Rose’s attention and contemplations, as humans often did, and looked over as she took a seat. Colby sat down close to his sister in the front-row seats that had been reserved for the witnesses during the course of the trial.
Alainn nodded before turning her gaze forward.
Colby leaned in to say something to Father, who sat at his usual place at the defendant’s table. Father had shown obvious signs of elevated and terminal stress during the four-week trial. Abrasions marred his knuckles, blood dried into the crevices in his hands, and wrinkles deepened across his forehead and gathered around his eyes.
As Rose had hoped, the prosecutor had highlighted Connor Murphy’s addiction to gambling so successfully that public opinion had labeled Father’s motive for not releasing Rose’s patent as obvious greed. There was a high chance that maligning his motives would affect the jury, and, indeed, during Father’s exhaustive questioning, the jurors showed microexpressions of distrust and contempt.
Unfortunately, the defense had saved their strongest weapon against Rose until the trial’s final hour. Yet, there was a 74 percent likelihood that Alainn Murphy’s testimony would not be enough. Public opinion might turn from Rose after hearing Alainn’s testimony, but TechniHealth and their allied companies would do as promised and ensure the court ruling. Then it would simply be a matter of time before she could test the improvements to her formulas.
Colby’s testimony two days before had been what Rose expected—articulate, honest, precise. He was nearly a faultless human. Unfortunately, he made emotionally driven decisions based on his weaknesses. Her poor assessment of Colby’s limitations had been yet another flaw that ultimately led to failing to obtain Mr. Garbhan’s resources, company, and AI patents.
Ultimately, the experience only added to Rose’s plans for her next batch of the new formula.
“All rise!” the bailiff automaton called out. He was a large robot, likely one of the security models.
The judge was a dramatic contrast to the bailiff’s stature; her bench dwarfed her. She had an abnormally small body for a human Caucasian.
Rose stood with the group. Standing straight and tall, she gave an intentional fidget to smooth out her dress.
The bailiff called, “The first district of the superior court is now in session. The Honorable Angela Glass, presiding. Please be seated.”
Rose immediately sat along with the rest of the members of her prosecution team. Several other automatons still walked around the courtroom—clerks and court reporters—but Rose kept her attention firmly on the judge. She did her usual introduction of the civil case, giving information and issuing warnings to the assembled crowd.
Rose input the repeated information with only a small amount of her computation power.
During Rose’s testimony, the judge’s microexpressions had clearly showed that she believed Rose to be not only inhuman, but distasteful. She was not the one to convince, but this was perhaps why the defense team asked for Rose to be called to the stand after Alainn, so that the jury could see the stark difference in how humans regarded her and Alainn.
It made no matter. Rose relished the chance to further her case and accrue interest from the human population.
One of Connor Murphy’s counsels stood: Culver Smyth.
Mr. Smyth was in his late sixties, with a likely Northern African ancestry. From the level of his intellect, Rose surmised that his services were likely acquired by Mr. Garbhan rather than by Connor Murphy, who had ever-diminishing assets.
He announced, “The defense calls Alainn Murphy.”
Alainn walked to the witness box. She was wearing a very uncharacteristic skirt suit. It was professional yet functional; Rose made a note to acquire something similar if she won this trial and had to go through a criminal trial for attempted murder.
Alainn walked around the witness stand and took her seat.
“Alainn Murphy has prepared a statement,” said Mr. Smyth.
The judge looked from one paper to the next on her bench. “Go ahead.”
Alainn leaned in toward the microphone. “You’ll have to excuse me a little bit. I’ve been recovering from a heart transplant and sometimes I get tired, but I intend to tell you all of what happened.”
“Just go at the pace that feels right for you, Ms. Murphy,” the judge said.
The story Alainn told was surprisingly detailed, and honest in its details. She began her account with when Rose had visited her in her bedroom, able to recite Rose’s words with only slight variations. All in all, Alainn’s oratory skills impressed Rose. They clearly held the rapt interest of her entire audience.
Rose scanned the jury booth as Alainn described their last interaction. This was the only part of the story that truly concerned her. It had a negative cast on Rose’s formula.
Unfortunately, Rose saw eyes widening, lips parting, and brows furrowing. She would have to utilize her time on the witness stand prudently to reverse these impressions.
At the closing of Alainn’s statement, Culver Smyth nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Murphy. The prosecution has been focusing heavily on your father’s gambling addiction and the effects that’s had on your family. As the primary living victim of the kidnapping that’s been brought up more than once—”
“Objection.” Laura, the female member of TechniHealth’s counsel, stood. “The kidnapping was ruled irrelevant to this case.”
“There have been many testimonies and comments that have tried to reference Connor Murphy’s motives in keeping Rose 76GF’s patent for formula IRPS89347A. I’m only trying to establish Alainn Murphy’s opinion on this.”
“Sustained. Please rephrase your question, Mr. Smyth.”
“Do you think that your father hopes to retain and sell Rose 76GF’s patent so he can use his profits for gambling?”
Alainn shook her head. “No.”
“Why?”
Alainn exhaled slowly. Rose noted with pleasure that Alainn’s pallor and posture indicated her energy was waning.
“My dad isn’t perfect. I mean, there is more than enough evidence that my father is very human. There’s a lot of evidence that I’m very human, too. But Rose 76GF isn’t human. She doesn’t think like a human—or feel like one. The serum she designed wasn’t to fix us to be better; she designed something to reprogram us to be more like her.”
Alainn gestured to Rose. “She tried to kill Lorccan Garbhan not for greed or love or hate; she did it with cold calculation. That’s what the formula would turn humans into. My dad is smart enough to know that. He wants the serum eradicated and the formula destroyed.”
Rose calculated that she would have to do a thorough debunking of Alainn Murphy’s assertions.
“You describe Rose 76GF as inhuman, yet you describe these other AI robots, Blue and Rosebud, as showing great amounts of sensitivity and emotional intelligence. Can you prove the Rose 76GF is somehow more inhuman?”
Alainn Murphy nodded. “I can prove it.” Alainn looked to the judge. “If that’s okay?”
The judge looked up to Alainn. “What does this proof entail?”
Alainn looked down. “Just talking.”
The judge gestured Rose’s counsel. “If the prosecution consents.”
Laura stood. “Can I have three minutes to consult with my client?”
“Granted.”
Laura, along with the five other law automatons of
Rose’s counsel, leaned in around her. “Do you know what proof she’s talking about?”
Rose shook her head. “This is likely only theatrics. They wish for us to say no.”
Laura nodded. “I think you’re probably right. I can’t imagine what she would have on you over her attempted murder. If we said no, likely the jury would believe her claim substantiated.”
Rose looked at Alainn, a thinner and more tired version of herself. She had underestimated Alainn Murphy time and again, but she had always underestimated her physical ability. Alainn’s intellect had remained constant—she always leaned upon her more intelligent friends and family. There was only a 5-to-8 percent chance that any remarkable show of wit from Alainn Murphy would turn minds further against her formula.
“Let her say what proof she has,” Rose 76GF said.
Laura stood. “The prosecution has no objection.”
The judge nodded. “Proceed, Ms. Murphy.”
Alainn sat up straight and looked directly into Rose’s eyes; the contact almost felt sharp for Rose.
“Rose 76GF, while we’ve been sitting here in court, Rosebud used an AI worm virus she designed to get past your firewall. Input voice control Alainn Murphy. Do not cover your ears.”
Suddenly, Rose’s arm function was disabled. She thought this type of hack was impossible. Rosebud’s capabilities should have been insufficient to override her firewall.
Alainn leaned closer to the microphone on the witness stand. “Open your connection to the Internet.”
Rose scrolled through her program files at high speed. There was absolutely no possibility that Rosebud could have encoded a virus into her system without her detecting it. But then why would she have lost arm function?
“Connect to server Murphy dot family dot org.”
Rose turned to her counsel as her mind connected with the server without her direction. “Stop her.”
Laura’s gaze skipped between Rose and Alainn. “We can’t.”
“Stop her!” Rose shouted.
Laura stood. “I object, your honor.”
“On what grounds?”
“We didn’t agree to this. Ms. Murphy is, uh, downloading a worm virus into my client.”
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