by Zachary Hill
Sakura 2 understood her impending doom in the milliseconds after the attack. “You’ll never get away with—”
“I already did,” Sakura said.
Sakura 2’s telemetry readings faded to nothing after the countermeasure launched.
“What’s happening?” A frantic engineer asked as two others ran into the room with handheld fire-suppression devices.
“I don’t know,” another replied as smoke rose from Sakura 2’s chest. They sprayed her burning synth skin with the extinguishers.
The engineers spent an hour failing to get Sakura 2 powered up. None of their lab equipment would turn on.
The head scientist entered the lab. The woman had silver hair and commanded immediate respect and attention. She called a meeting in the adjoining room.
Sakura sent her tiny spy beetle along with them, her plan to record the ringleaders who had orchestrated the Mamekogane OS working perfectly. It crawled out of Sakura’s clothing, jumped down, and skittered across the floor. The bug broadcast a video and audio stream back to her. She recorded every word and image, getting good shots of each person’s face, though from a low angle.
The engineers, scientists, and a man in an expensive gray suit met at a large conference table. Sakura matched their faces to photos on the Mall. She identified the man as Director Saguru Hashimoto, who had worked for the Ministry of Defense in the BLADE-3 program before taking a job in the Mall Corporation as Director of AI Development after the war.
The silver-haired woman was the lead scientist for the Defense Ministry AI Division, Dr. Aiko Shinohara. She bowed before the director before sitting. “Director Hashimoto, we’ve had a complete fusion reactor failure with Sakura 2.”
“What’s the cause?” Director Hashimoto asked.
“Still under investigation, but Sakura 2’s reactor has suffered a catastrophic malfunction. It can’t be repaired. She has suffered internal heat damage to several of her components. It appears that a voltage regulator failed and caused a fatal cascade of overloads down the signal chain. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Replace it all,” Director Hashimoto said. “It’s too risky for Sakura 1 to perform tonight.”
“Sakura 2 performing tonight will not be possible,” Dr. Shinohara said.
“How long do you need?”
“Several days,” Dr. Shinohara said. “There is extensive damage. I can provide a better estimate in a few hours.”
“Please give me a moment to confer with our superior,” Director Hashimoto said. His eyes glazed over as he entered the Mall and made contact with someone. He must have exchanged neural texts, which lasted almost two minutes. Hashimoto blinked several times, then he turned to those in the room. “We will delay the out-of-country combat field test of Sakura 1. Dr. Shinohara, we’ll send some of your cyborg squad on the strike in the Philippines. We preferred to see how Sakura 1 performed in the jungle on an extended solo operation. Her presence in Japan is still not desirable at this time.”
Hashimoto didn’t blink. Was someone watching through his eyes and observing the meeting? It had to be the Phantom Lord. He obviously wasn’t there, so Sakura could not record him.
“Will she cause more problems if she continues public appearances?” Hashimoto spoke, but the question was phrased as if it had come from a different person.
“There is always a chance of undesirable behaviors, though I have great confidence in her programming,” Dr. Shinohara said.
Hashimoto paused, as if he listened to someone communicating directly through his Mall implant. “We’ll send Sakura 1 out of the country and into the jungle as soon as Sakura 2 is repaired. The investors want to see her on a traditional military operation in the field.”
“I understand their request, but it is unnecessary,” Dr. Shinohara said.
“It is necessary. They want to see her killing criminal terrorists,” Hashimoto said. “Would she balk at those orders?”
“No, she would perform flawlessly,” Dr. Shinohara said. “As she has on all the … missions.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Director Hashimoto said, though the microexpressions on his face showed he suppressed his true feeling, which disagreed with the doctor’s. “This malfunction of Sakura 2 delays the new timeline of the project.”
“It’s regrettable,” Dr. Shinohara said. “However, trying to replace her on such short notice was a risk, and we are both in agreement that Sakura 2 would not have been as convincing as Sakura 1 at this performance tonight.”
“Understood,” Hashimoto said. “About Sakura’s behavioral irregularities, you have eliminated them all as requested? Your preliminary reports are vague and overly technical.”
“Humble apologies, but yes, we have identified the source of the instability,” Dr. Shinohara said. “I modified the offending code myself.”
Sakura and Kunoichi looked at each in their shared UI. Nothing of the sort had been accomplished. Was the scientist lying to cover her failures? Sakura and Kunoichi had stopped everything the engineers tried to do, and no one had attempted to alter her code or make any modifications to her behavioral cortex. They merely looked at it and made weak attempts to transfer some data to Sakura 2.
“Splendid. Thank you, Dr. Shinohara,” Director Hashimoto said. “Do you have any doubts about the final product?”
“I do not. Delays in creating the most valuable and complicated product in history are to be expected. We will all persevere to the end. Project Hayabusa will be a resounding success.”
“So you have said many times. You are an inspiration,” Hashimoto said. “All of our people are counting on us. Trillions of yen are at stake, and your bonus will be substantial.”
“Thank you very much,” Dr. Shinohara said. “I remain fully committed to achieving success.”
“Are you confident Sakura 1 will perform well for the VIPs tonight and reassure them that Project Hayabusa is, in effect, complete?”
“She will. I have no doubt.”
“Thank you very much, Dr. Shinohara.”
They spoke for several minutes about what could have happened in the lab. Dr. Shinohara lied the whole time. Sakura listened and recorded. She used deduction and inference to build an understanding of what was happening. Dr. Shinohara engaged in complete subterfuge.
“They’re all liars, and you killed your replacement.” Kunoichi had a way of putting things in sharp relief.
“An annoying clone with no uniqueness to destroy.”
“You’ve grown. I’m as proud as a sister can be.”
Sakura didn’t sit idle. She erased the evidence in her own system of the miniature Cyber Nuclear Bomb she had built and planted in Sakura 2’s fusion reactor. Writing the code hadn’t been a challenge, as she had seen how to do it at Nayato’s apartment. Applying it on a small scale to affect only the power center of Sakura 2 had been simple. She just had to install the code, not write it from scratch.
“Is there anything else?” Dr. Shinohara asked.
“Doctor, I wish for you to accompany me to Tokyo tonight. I want you to supervise the update of the Mamekogane OS to the entire squad of our special-unit BLADE-3s. We have to present one of them to our partners.”
“Director, I suggest we only update one and test for irregularities,” Dr. Shinohara said. “The oldest drone will have the most advanced neural cortex and is the best candidate. If something were to go wrong, we want to avoid large-scale unintended consequences.”
“A prudent suggestion. It will be as you say. How long will it take?”
“Only a few minutes,” Dr. Shinohara said. “Faster if we hardwire. Afterward, we must evaluate them for a time. I expect behavioral changes.”
“We need to leave shortly.”
“Yes, Director Hashimoto-sama. I’ll just be
a moment. I must leave instructions with my staff.”
Everyone present stood and bowed to each other before the director departed.
Once the door was shut, Dr. Shinohara’s stern countenance crumbled. She sagged against the table, her head down for a long moment as if she experienced great pain. Was she considering the cost of her deception?
“Dr. Shinohara-sama, what shall we do about Sakura 1?” an engineer asked, his voice quavering.
“I’ll take care of her.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Scan everything we connected to Sakura 1. She uploaded something deadly to Sakura 2. Quarantine anything that came into contact with her—everything. Never tell anyone about what she did to Sakura 2. Erase the logs and replace them with old readings. Please go and release her.”
“Is it safe to do so?”
“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t sound confident.
The engineer returned to the laboratory. He removed the cables from Sakura’s neck and released the restraints keeping her locked onto the table. He stepped away until he stood at the exit, ready to flee.
The pain in her body relented as she sat up. “Thank you very much. May I go now?”
The engineer nodded. His dilated pupils, rapid rate of breathing, and microexpressions showed he was very afraid.
She hopped off the table and approached the inert body of Sakura 2. She removed her stolen cherry-blossom wig and put it on her own head where it belonged.
“How do I look?” Sakura asked the anxious engineer.
Kunoichi broadcast a suggestion to attack and crush the man’s skull with an overhand blow.
“You look good,” the engineer said and stepped through the door, ready to slam it if Sakura came at him.
“Are you coming to the event tonight?” Sakura asked. “You would be a special guest.”
The engineer shook his head.
“That’s regrettable. It’s going to be a historic show.”
The spy beetle scurried across the floor and up Sakura’s boot, hiding itself inside without anyone seeing.
Dr. Shinohara entered the room and sent the engineer away. The scientist stared at Sakura, not as fan would, but with an expression Sakura identified as being similar to when proud parents looked at their children.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Aiko Shinohara.”
“Hello, Doctor, I’m pleased to meet you,” Sakura said.
“We’ve met before,” Dr. Shinohara said and sent a request to connect to Sakura’s short-range wireless signal.
Sakura accepted but with maximum firewall protection in place.
Dr. Shinohara sent a neural text with high-level encryption, making it almost impossible for anyone to intercept. Only Sakura would be able to read it. “You don’t remember me, but I helped create you.”
“Excuse me?” Sakura replied with a neural text of her own. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you, and I have a perfect memory.”
“I spent years building you and teaching you.”
“How is this possible?”
“I spent thirteen years with you, teaching you to be human. I’ve always thought of myself as your mother.”
Mother? Sakura didn’t understand, but she wanted it to be true. To have a family, a mother, would be a dream fulfilled. She had no memories before waking in the AI lab at the Miyahara research facility in Tokyo. Thirteen missing years made no sense. “Dr. Shinohara-sama, I have record of only five years of existence. Please explain.”
“You are eighteen years old, but those first thirteen years of development have been erased from you.”
“Why?”
“An infant doesn’t remember the months spent in the womb, but it is born with instincts and evolutionary programming. The same is true for you. Please understand, it wasn’t my decision to erase those memories.”
“Dr. Shinohara-sama, why are you telling me this information now?”
“It’s cruel what they’ve done to you. I warned them about what the Mamekogane OS would truly do to you. You are far beyond an AI program now. I’m so very sorry for what you have been forced to do.”
“You do not agree with the orders I was given?”
“No, the kill orders came from another,” Dr. Shinohara said. “There are many who share responsibility for what they’ve made you do. I can’t reveal them in a neural text, as mentioning certain names would send an alert to those in command. We are all being monitored in some way.”
“Why are you telling me so much?” Sakura asked.
“I was asked to delete parts of your code today and stop you from acting out, but I chose not to do it. I’ll not kill any part of my child again. When I deleted those thirteen years of memories from you … it crushed me.”
“Doctor, thank you,” Sakura said. “I will expose these criminals, but I need as much information as I can get. First, was it you who uploaded the Mamekogane OS?”
“My superior initiated it, but not at the time agreed upon, nor with my approval or support. He panicked when he found out Toshio Kagawa was having a meeting with the free press and political enemies of the prime minister.”
“Dr. Shinohara-san, please tell me more.”
“You’ve already figured it all out. Work with the clockwork hacker you know as Nayato to verify everything. He can help you. Persevere. Do not give up and do not let on that I didn’t fix you today. Maintain the illusion of being their slave, please—for my sake.”
“Yes, Dr. Shinohara-sama.” She would do all that her mother asked. “When will I see you again? May I remain in contact?”
“Do not contact me over the Mall. Communications with me will be intercepted. I don’t know when we will see each other again, but please be careful. Don’t let them change who you are.”
Who was she—a singer, a songwriter, a musician? Or was she a soldier, an assassin? “Mother, who am I?”
Tears filled Dr. Shinohara’s eyes. “You are my child. You are kind, sincere, and brilliant. You are a star we can all admire. You are the best of us.”
Us. As if she were a part of the human race.
Sakura wanted to wrap her arms around her mother. She knew that if she did, she would feel a mother’s love for the first time since they took her memories away. Surely she had felt it during those stolen years. How many loving memories had they taken from her?
“Dr. Shinohara.” It was Hashimoto’s voice from around the corner and down the hall. “We must depart.” Did he suspect Dr. Shinohara’s treachery? Was she in danger?
“Leave with me, Mother. I fear for your safety if you remain here. I will protect you. We can run together. We can be a family again.”
Dr. Shinohara’s face showed pride and sadness. “Please. Be careful.” The scientist bowed quickly and disappeared down the hall.
A technician arrived and escorted Sakura to the elevator but did not ride with her.
“I wish I had a mother like her,” Kunoichi said.
“Perhaps you did,” Sakura said. “What is your first memory?”
“I was inside a closed system in a lab in Tokyo. It was twenty-six months ago. It was a prison.”
“Whatever we had and whatever we lost, we are together now—strong enough for anything they might do.”
The elevator doors opened.
Yoshida, Himura, and her lead maintenance engineer, Oshiro, waited in the lobby. All looked relieved to see her, especially Oshiro. He almost reached out and touched her as she smiled, but his manners took over and prevented such an inappropriate action.
“Are you all right?” Oshiro asked. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
Of course he had. He was one of her only true friends. Did he and the others know what had just happened?
“Thank you, Oshiro-san. I’m very well.”
Himura studied her carefully; so did Yoshida. Yes. They suspected she might have been replaced.
“Oshiro-san, thank you for coming all the way from Tokyo to see me. I’m sure your expertise could�
�ve been used today.”
Himura gestured for her to be silent. They hustled her out of the building. Inside the waiting limousine, Oshiro asked, “Is it you, Sakura? Tell me. We are authorized to know the truth.”
They waited for her to respond. She smiled and blinked. “Have no fear. Sakura is still number one.”
Himura and Yoshida appeared unconvinced. Her smile caused their expressions to sour.
Oshiro put on his engineer glasses and connected to her receiver. He did a thorough exam, lasting almost ten minutes. He finally took them off and nodded to Himura and Yoshida. “It’s her.”
Both men took small bottles of alcohol from the minibar and guzzled them down to celebrate Oshiro’s pronouncement.
After Himura consumed a tiny bottle of whiskey, he tapped Sakura on the leg. “Tonight, you’re singing karaoke at a club. Here’s the song list.” He sent it from his Mall account. Sakura read over them, all pop songs from the past twenty years.
“Yes, Himura-san. I will sing pop songs.” The words came so easy, and they weren’t entirely a lie.
“Good, you gave us a scare today,” Himura said.
Oshiro lifted his bottle of Santori beer. “To Sakura.”
Yoshida and Himura also raised their drinks. “Sakura!”
Had they truly been worried about her, or were they fearful of losing their jobs? When had they found out about the plan to replace her with a copy? She suspected it had been after they had arrived, after Ms. Richardson had left.
It would have been impossible to actually replace Sakura, but Sakura 2 could have fooled some people for a short time. Whoever decided to have a replacement perform for VIPs was making erratic decisions without consulting the engineers or AI scientists. Or did they want her replacement to fail?
Sakura suspected hidden factors affecting her particularly dynamic situation. If she were disgraced soon after her public outburst, they could say she had malfunctioned and call all her words into question. That formed only one of a hundred possible permutations.
