Unnatural

by Anthony DiGiovanni

  * * * *

  He flew to the window. Yep, it was a legitimate police car. Jane and he were outside the front door within thirty seconds, unarmed as far as Uriah knew. The vehicle pulled up by the front lawn, and Uriah tried convincing himself he had no reason to fear. A mechanical voice from the car said, “Sir and miss, please step inside the car with your hands up.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” said Jane, who raised her arm.

  “Jane, no.” Uriah knew all too well what sort of reflectors an automated police car would possess. He pushed her arm down. “Let’s not make them think we’re hostile unless we need to. You’d kill yourself if you tried, anyway.”

  The back seat doors opened, and the two complied. Not taking any chances, the android walled off its passengers from the front seats with a material that resisted electromagnetic guns.

  Uriah had done a little research on robotic cars, finding that this system worked because the car’s innards were designed such that only the small front apparatus was vulnerable to magnetism’s ill effects. All the energy flowing through the electrical system of the automobile was converted in some way to energy usable by a mechanical system in the back parts of the car, just like an old gasoline-fueled model.

  Not as if it were easy to smuggle an EM gun inside one of these machines anyway, with a mobile guard-bot stowed away. This android seemed not to suspect Jane, which was understandable considering how willing everyone was to believe that Asimov’s laws had authority over real robots.

  The car began driving south out of the neighborhood. “What do you want with us?” said Uriah calmly.

  “Governess Anya Zolnerowich and her advisers, of the federal subject of Luna, would like a word with you. You are not in any legal jeopardy.”

  Up until this point, Uriah had rationally been aware of the existence of the moon colonists, not of all of which were actually Russian by birth due to the fortunate lack of territoriality on the Russian space program’s part. But he’d acted as if those colonists weren’t really there, for their effect on his life was about as significant as that of the Azerbaijan.

  Probably a thorn in the side of the needy, but them’s the breaks in a world that needs a shot of nationalism to get its morale high enough to care about the wider world in the first place. Or so the investors in Project Luna viewed matters.

  Now that he was reminded of Luna’s presence in a way that looking at the Moon Frontier Institute couldn’t do, especially after being left the only human on Earth, it felt queer, bittersweet. Okay, so there are other beings of my species out there, but despite robo-car’s words they probably want my ass on a platinum platter. Am I a psychopath for wishing they didn’t exist?

  Uriah thought it best to just keep his yapper shut. The Aberdeen Police Department had no proof of his guilt, after all, and at least this one investigation could distract them from his other offense. Plus, Jane could vouch for him. She gave him a look that seemed to confirm this.

  By ten to midnight, the vehicle arrived at the building of “concentrated justice,” as Uriah had sarcastically called it back in the bad old days. Truthfully, the implementing of robots in the police force had made the system more efficient, but an efficient drug can still be abused.

  A door opened with perfect timing to allow the car’s entry into a parking garage, monitored subtly but certainly by robots of a different model. Assuming Uriah was new to this station, Jane explained, “The security devices here keep down violence in the dark, plus they make sure each unit of androids doesn’t have too much power or info. Each machine only recognizes human voices, and any plugs that the bots could use to share info silently are specialized to prevent that. Marshall said that all of this prevents conspiracy.”

  In theory.

  When the robot was parked, it spoke up. “Any dangerous devices in your possession will be promptly confiscated by the guard inside this vehicle, which will escort you to the conference room. Thank you for your cooperation.” Good ol’ robo-cops, always with the formalities.

  As the doors opened, a dexterous android dislodged itself from inside the auto and, sensing no hostile objects on Uriah’s person, led his way down the hall to the right with Jane following.

  The conference room was nothing fancy, but it seemed to serve its purpose. The most energy-conservative lighting available gave the room a welcoming air, reflecting off the shiny semicircular table, which was outlined by a dozen or so seats. Devices that looked like thin microphones lay in front of each seat. A high-definition television screen dominated the rear wall, and the rest of the room consisted of a spacious, royal blue carpeted area dotted with desks for secretaries.

  Overall, it was surprisingly bare for a room in an advanced police station, but Uriah was too thankful that he wasn’t being arrested yet to be too critical.

  “Please take your seats,” said the guard as it left. “The governess will be with you shortly.”

  “Shortly” meant “shortly.” The screen turned on just as the door closed. It showed a table much like the APD’s in a conference room much like the APD’s, with the expected Russian stylistic touch.

  At the center sat a Slavic woman with a perfect body. Its perfection stemmed from its artificial nature, for health reasons mandated basically every resident of Luna to inhabit a synthetic body. Her black hair was a tad short, she was dressed formally enough to shame Uriah in his casual wear, and her countenance gave an impression of professionalism without appearing stern and cold.

  If anything, the subordinates on either side of her were the off-putting ones. Based on the glances that many of them were stealing at the screens near them on the table, Uriah suspected their unpleasant demeanors were bred of the sheer stress of their jobs as advisers to the last governess alive.

  Zolnerowich began, in flawless English, “Normally I would say ‘good morning’ to begin any conference in which I participate, but given the circumstances I think we can all agree that this day is not good by any definition of the word. That said, let us proceed straight to business.

  “Two days ago, residents of Luna observed numerous signs of the absence of human Earth-dwellers. All communications between humans on Earth and those in Luna stopped abruptly. Many suspected a minor failure of the comm devices themselves, but the intact messages across space from androids cast make this hypothesis rather dubious. Those androids soon reported the deaths of every human with whom they normally came into contact. Considering the ubiquity of such machines, panic spread rapidly about a veritable apocalypse.”

  Looking briefly around the table, Zolnerowich seemed to note the winces on the faces of her colleagues at that last word. “Yes, yes, it sounds patently absurd to all of us. There has so far been no evidence of any plausible or predictable cause of the extermination. A nuclear holocaust or a form of mass biological warfare would surely not have gone unnoticed by us, even setting aside the presence of the robots and their reports of the peculiar nigh-catatonic state of all of the deceased.”

  “I can confirm that,” said Uriah. “None of the corpses showed normal signs of decay. Everyone just seemed to have dropped dead.”

  The officials beside Zolnerowich all leered at him, but the governess herself was barely perturbed. She nodded and said, “Yes, thank you for your testimony, Mr. Uriah. We will give you the opportunity to explain the situation firsthand in due time.

  “Anyway, the authorities of Luna have taken action to keep order in these times of turmoil, which I hardly need to tell you is a Herculean task when no one knows what killed the Earthling humans; when virtually every citizen of this colony had been in some way concerned for the well-being of an Earthling human; and when our not quite fully independent society is heavily reliant on the support of Earthling communities.”

  The gravity on her face was apparent now more than ever, and it carried into her speech. “Implicit in the mission of maintaining order is the satisfaction of the public’s thirst for justice, and, if
I may be frank, Mr. Uriah, they see the blood on your hands.”

  “There is none. I’m as ignorant of the cause of everyone else’s deaths as you are, Governess.”

  “Be that as it may, most people view you as a prime suspect, sole survivor that you are.”

  Uriah folded his hands and psyched himself to keep a level head. “Why would I make myself look so obviously guilty if I were? Not to mention that whatever caused the extermination was clearly so remote from its victims that any citizen of Luna could just as easily be the perp.”

  “I never said I believed you were guilty.”

  “Nor did I.”

  A man not far from Zolnerowich at the table, who either wasn’t able to buy beauty like Zolnerowich’s or didn’t want to, spoke up. “If I may interject, Governess, I would like to remind Mr. Uriah that his failure to report to us until now, and against his will, at that, seems suspicious to me.”

  “And if I may reply in kind, Mr., er –”

  “Senator Mikhailov, thank you.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t hold responsibility for contacting a perfectly functional community that should, if anything, be concerned for my well-being as the only human on a planet brimming with potentially hostile androids. Not you, of course,” he added, nodding to Jane.

  “I tend to agree on the latter point,” said the governess, “but the senator is correct, Mr. Uriah, that contacting you was essential for the sake of Luna. As does any city, we import goods and export waste products from and to other civilizations, and within a handful of days we may be on the verge of annihilation ourselves. Water, for instance, is a highly limited resource here that we can only provide with the help of Earth societies.”

  “Fair enough, but our silent killer didn’t bother to spare a human who could manage the landing of a command module back down here.”

  “Maybe not a human, but as you said, Earth is crawling with androids. Including your companion.”

  “Jane is my name, Governess.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” she said, though not as if she meant it. “Are you capable of operating space travel docking equipment?”

  “Afraid not, but surely you know that I probably won’t be necessary for this job anyway.” Space exploration agencies certainly could benefit from having error-proof machines do their dirty work for them, hence she would only be superfluous, if not a liability.

  “My primary concerns are normally political, android.”

  “I’d like to be addressed as a woman, thank you.”

  “And I as a government official of the Federal Subject of Luna. This is all tangential,” she said with haste. “The reason this conversation is crucial to the fate of Luna is not that we need you, Mr. Uriah, to make our landing a success. We need you because you have an organic body.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “As you know, Luna has only been inhabited by people who have replaced the bodies nature gave them with macro-prosthetics. That is, except for one woman. Have you heard of Sabrina Lockhart?”

  “No.”

  “She was all over the news thirteen years ago.”

  “I don’t watch television, and to be quite honest, Governess, your, er, ‘federal subject’ has hardly been much of a concern of mine. I was homeless until just two days ago, courtesy of Gustav Stark, CEO of the Everett Moon Frontier Institute.” He virtually spat these last few words.

  Zolnerowich bit her lip, then proceeded as normal. “Sabrina Lockhart’s dream as a young girl was to go to the moon. Her father fervently supported Project Luna and did all that he could to increase his daughter’s chances of being one of the first few thousand people to colonize the moon. The RFSA would have been glad to let her make her voyage, but there was one setback. Miss Lockhart was a Christian.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Take a wild guess,” she said with a slight tone of scorn.

  It didn’t take long for Uriah to make the connection. “She probably wasn’t too fond of the idea of disposing of her Temple of the Holy Spirit.”

  “Exactly. Personally, I see nothing more offensive to Christian virtues in that notion than in that of performing surgery to extend a person’s lifespan, but this is religion we are talking about. When Sabrina found out that moon colonial priority was being given to ‘Unnaturals,’ as she called them, she was outraged.

  “Faster than you could say ‘right to religious freedom,’ she campaigned against this absolutely outrageous display of militant secularism.” The facetiousness in her voice was deafening. “And she won. To this day, she is endangering her health in the name of Jesus Christ.”

  “Why do I not like where this is going?”

  Ignoring Uriah’s words, Zolnerowich said, “Well, in light of recent events, the human race is in a pivotal position. To be blunt, we Transhumans cannot reproduce.”

  “I fail to see where I come into this.”

  “Lockhart’s religion does not look too kindly on artificial insemination or in vitro fertilization.”

  All right, time to stop playing the prude. “Are you telling me, Governess Zolnerowich, that if I refuse to have children with Sabrina Lockhart, then the human species will die out?”

  “Yes,” said Zolnerowich, relieved and more surprised than she should have been at Uriah’s deduction. “There is a common misconception that Libertas make people immortal, but they are simply not advanced enough to completely stop the declining of brain function. Given how small a community Luna is, I can be certain no engineers and scientists capable of developing anything more resistant to death’s cold grasp are still alive.”

  When Uriah raised his eyebrow at this, she added, “This city is comprised almost entirely of people who produce and provide the resources and services necessary for it to sustain itself. We mostly left the tinkering and research jobs to the Earth-bounds.”

  This is all assuming no one on Luna would be above committing murder, but she wouldn’t want us thinking about that. “And you’re sure there’s no way to extend the lifespans of Unnaturals?”

  “No one can be positive of that, sir, but I can assure you that, superstitious as she may be, Sabrina Lockhart is nonetheless a charming woman, at least for an Organic.”

  “This is asinine! Not only are you assuming Lockhart’ll find me desirable despite me being a hell-bound heathen in her eyes, you’re also under the delusion that she and I can be legally forced to take on the responsibility of raising a family.”

  “No one’s forcing you to do anyth–”

  “And for that matter,” he interrupted with utter incredulity on his face, “what about the next generations? Are you saying my future children will have to mate with each other to propagate the race?”

  “They won’t have to, if you can convince them, or ideally Sabrina herself, that there is no vice in alternative impregnation methods. Or genetic engineering could render the risks of inbreeding irrelevant.”

  Uriah was one more absurdity away from walking out. “And now you want me to deconvert a woman so religious that she would rather expose herself to cosmic radiation than replace her ‘God-given’ body with a Libertas?”

  “Mr. Uriah, please, lower your tone to something more professional,” said Zolnerowich with pure authority. Uriah held his tongue, and she continued. “Thank you. Now, let me repeat, sir, that none of us is going to subvert your autonomy here. This is the twenty-first century, for heaven’s sake, and you have the right to make your own decisions.”

  “Excellent.”

  “However, you must understand that while this issue is sensitive, it deserves to be discussed. Our species has come this far, and we are not ready to give up at the hands of the ‘silent killer,’ in your words.”

  “Maybe so, but will you give up at the hands of my right to control my own body? And Sabrina’s right to hers?”

  “You are making this out to be more black and white than it really is.”

  “Answer the question.
”

  “Mr. Uriah,” said another associate of Zolnerowich’s, presumably another senator based on the similar dress, “we would appreciate it if you afforded Governess Zolnerowich her due respect.”

  Uriah ignored her and repeated his command.

  “I do not have the authority to answer that!”

  The conference fell silent. Finally, Jane spoke. “Did you just admit, Governess, that you’re in over your head here?”

  Zolnerowich gave Jane a death glare. “This discussion does not concern you, android.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Because I think I speak for all of us here when I say that you would be too dangerous to our cause if left unmonitored, out in the open.”

  “You can’t be serious, Governess,” said Uriah. “Jane is harmless. She has more empathy than I’ve seen in some humans, maybe even myself.”

  “Empathic or not, Mr. Uriah, she is an android, programmed by a person with unknown motives, and deficient in moral capacity. I am appalled that you would put as much trust as you do in her.”

  “Truthfully, I see more in her worth trusting than I do in you.”

  “If that is the case, then perhaps I would do well to imprison the both of you while we carry out our investigation. Seeing as these are circumstances as dire as war, and this would not be the first time someone abandoned the law in wartime –”

  “Very well, Zolnerowich,” said Jane, standing up, “if you see me as such a threat, then perhaps I’d be better off out of this place.” She stretched out her hand, palm facing the screen, and fired her built-in EM gun.

  Uriah was mildly frightened at the sight of her swift action, but he’d be lying if he told himself he was ungrateful for what she had done. The sounds of her invisible gunshots pervaded the room as security androids malfunctioned and she severed all electronic ties between the APD and Luna.

  He followed Jane through the halls to the door to the station’s parking garage, where she stopped after disabling more machines. “Uriah, do you want those other humans to return to Earth?”

  “No,” he said without hesitation.

  “Then it’d be best if you came with me. Out east.”

  “You’re gonna stop them from docking the spacecraft safely, aren’t you?” Jane nodded, and he sighed. “Jane, I hate those moonies as much as you do, but I would never kill anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

  “Would you?” She looked dead serious.

  “You suspect me? After all I said back there to defend myself? And after what I said to you back in the car?”

  “You seem like what Marshall would call a misanthrope.”

  “Maybe, but so does Marshall himself. Why else would he make you?”

  Jane glared, then thought for a few seconds. “All right, Uriah, I’ll help you out of here, and if you wanna go find out how to cheat death and leave me alone, go ahead. But don’t try to stop me, after what I’ve done for you.”

  Who said anything about me needing your help? If I wanted to, I could hang you out to dry right here, let the security ‘droids take you into custody. But I don’t want to.

  “It’s a deal.”