“They want to do what with who?” Rivka rubbed her temples. She could feel a monster headache coming.
“The AI that crashed his ship into the planet didn’t go down with it,” Erasmus explained. “He’s alive and well on a freighter. Mister Orbal has hired him as the new station AI.”
“He had to break a few laws by crashing his ship. Do you think we should allow it?”
“I think Malcolm is an excellent candidate.” Erasmus did not elaborate.
Rivka nodded. “Turn him loose. He can’t be any worse than the last one.”
“That’s what Mr. Orbal said.”
“Thirteen is my unlucky number. I should have avoided this case like the plague when I saw the station number,” Rivka lamented. “How long until we’re back in the courtroom?”
“Five hours,” Chaz replied.
“Sounds like four hours of sleep.” Rivka stood up from the captain’s chair. She’d been on the bridge since they’d returned from the station. The others had given her privacy when she started researching sentencing precedents. She was alone, but not alone. Chaz and Erasmus were both helping her understand the entirety of the situation.
She had known AIs were complex, but now she was learning their entire social structure. They were constantly in competition with each other. Friendly in most cases, but the AIs also had a dark side, which they kept under control because they were integrated on ships where the crew could observe their actions. An AI never wanted to be caught being petty.
Like the time a freighter AI had sent its maintenance bots to paint a nearby cruiser pink because the cruiser had stopped the freighter for an unwarranted inspection.
Unwarranted in the freighter’s mind.
“Chaz, you have the con,” Rivka said as she walked off the bridge on the way to her stateroom. It’s nice going back to my room. I’ll have to send a bottle of the best champagne to the High Chancellor for getting me this ship. Assuming I can avoid getting shot or slashed for the rest of the case, I’ll be able to afford the best there is. That will be a sweet payout.
“No blood. No blood…” she chanted.
Chapter Twenty-One
Federation Courtroom, Border Station 13 – Under Construction
The courtroom was packed, but the main buzz surrounded the AI presence. The holodisplay had been moved to the side, and with Erasmus’ help, they could request to speak should an open forum be possible during the sentencing phase.
But first, the guilty plea had to be resurrected, or the prosecution had to prove that Bluto was guilty.
The AI was in the dock, contained within the physical walls of his digital restraints. His avatar watched the crowd, looking at anything and everything they were holding as if trying to glean information regarding current events. Bluto had seen and heard nothing over the preceding two days. The outside world had been denied him.
Isolation. Solitary confinement. No chance for release. No trust.
The door behind the bench opened, and the audience stood. The High Chancellor walked through, looking like he’d aged ten years overnight. Rivka frowned. When he saw that, he smiled at her and tipped his head slightly as if to say, “It’s okay.”
After he was seated, everyone in the courtroom sat down. Rivka waited for an announcement as to how the morning’s session would go. Given how everything had gone so far in the AI’s trial, she expected it to be non-standard, Wyatt engaging what was needed as opposed to what protocol dictated.
“For the defendant’s edification, I’ll deliver a synopsis,” Wyatt started. He would have already told Bluto the results of the trial regarding standing so he could prepare for a return to the original trial. “The artificial intelligence known as Bluto has been granted standing as a self-aware living being. This is a new precedent, a long time in coming. Now it is time to return to the original charges. Five counts of capital murder, as per details of dates and times registered with the court, one count of attempted murder, fifteen counts of fraud, and thirty-seven counts of misappropriation. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” Bluto stated in a clear and firm voice. Complete silence seized the courtroom. Wyatt didn’t change expression, but Rivka’s mouth dropped open, and she stared. “I’m kidding. I’m guilty as sin.”
The High Chancellor’s expression changed to a scowl as he glared at the prisoner.
“Guilty plea accepted.”
Rivka raised a hand.
“Counsel?” Wyatt acknowledged.
“I would like to clarify a few points of my investigation before sentencing begins.”
“You may ask your questions, but the defendant is not obligated to answer.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Rivka turned back toward the dock. “There were ten personas that we couldn’t find, yet they were on the roster. Did you create them?”
Bluto’s avatar stuck its tongue out. No one responded to the jibe. He decided to answer. “I created nine of them to earn the pay and appear to be doing the work I programmed the bots to do. We don’t need any living beings besides me. I could have built the station all by myself.”
“I’m sure you could, Bluto. You are quite capable, as you demonstrated. What about the tenth persona?”
“That was a real Angobar by the name of Devonstra. She was an outsider. No one knew her. She was the first to go, and no one even noticed.”
Grainger started tapping his datapad. Ankh watched in rapt fascination, eyes glazed as he carried on a continuous dialogue with Erasmus, now that Erasmus had handed over the station’s operations to Malcolm.
Rivka glanced at the crowd. Boran had thrown his head back and was now gritting his teeth, eyes closed. He’d lost an employee and hadn’t noticed. Zack and Oz looked angry.
“No one noticed because you maintained the records as if she was still working.” It wasn’t a question, but Bluto answered anyway. An AI’s ego. Bragging rights.
“Of course. It was ridiculously easy. I forwarded the reports, and the construction administration took them at face value. The second death? That was truly an accident.”
“I can see how we would accept the reports. Foremen account for the crew, but they didn’t know about these employees, did they? Either the manufactured ones or the real one who was dead?”
“No. I set the reports to add the names between the time they were submitted and when they were read by anyone higher up the chain.”
“I see,” Rivka replied casually. “Where is Devonstra’s body?”
“Sealed between bulkheads 33A and 41C.”
Grainger continued to tap. The super scoured his memory for that location.
Bluto added. “She had no family. Getting her body out would cause significant damage to the station since that area is a key stress point. If anyone cuts through one or the other bulkheads, the station could twist, losing its integrity in entirety.”
“Thank you. We’ll see what we need to do. Please explain the second death. You said it was an accident, but you pled guilty to murder. I don’t understand. You shouldn’t be held responsible for crimes you didn’t commit.”
“I killed him, Magistrate, but he wasn’t the target. He stumbled into the trap before it was ready, but humans are so fragile. Half the trap was enough to crush him, but the trap was supposed to crush him and soften him up so the second half of the trap could slice him in half. I was studying the response to the death and found I had predicted it with one hundred percent accuracy. A one-day investigation, declaration of a terrible accident, followed by a return to work.”
Boran looked as if he were being tortured. He twisted and contorted in his seat. Zack and Oz tried to calm him down. They’d all been outwitted by the AI. Unbeknownst to them, Bluto had held all the cards. They’d been played masterfully.
And the more he talked, the more Rivka accepted that Bluto was a psychopath. Not a clinical diagnosis. It helped relieve her of her worry that she’d be condemning a living being without knowing.
The Magistrate was now certa
in. Bluto needed to never interact with the real world, ever again.
“Thank you, Bluto. You’ve answered all my questions.” She bowed slightly to the bench before sitting down.
Wyatt didn’t waste time. “The sentencing phase is a key element in our legal system. Punishment is supposed to stop a repeat of unwanted behavior. Some criminals don’t ever return to a life of crime after being appropriately punished, whether that is incarceration, fines, displacement, or one of the many other tools available to the court. I want to emphasize the word ‘appropriate.’ Punishment is unique to every individual. We’ve never had to sentence an AI before. Is there anything we could do that would make you change your behavior?”
“I promise not to do it again,” Bluto replied. “You’ve seen that I have been completely honest during the trial. My honesty continues. If I say I won’t do it again, I won’t.”
Rivka shot to her feet. Wyatt’s eyes snapped to her. “Counselor?”
“After Bluto was removed from his position on the station, he lied by omission during my interview on board my ship. The AI cannot be trusted.”
“Oh, Magistrate! That cuts me deep.” Bluto’s avatar twisted into horrific poses, twisting in blood-soaked agony.
“The defendant will refrain from changing his appearance,” Wyatt ordered. Bluto returned to himself, turning to Rivka and sticking his tongue out again.
The High Chancellor was not amused, but he was torn as to what to do. He didn’t know how he could further restrain the AI. He came to the conclusion that mattered. End the sentencing phase.
“I want to offer the chance for the AIs to speak on behalf of this sentence. I ask Erasmus to return to the stand,” the High Chancellor said.
Erasmus instantly appeared in the holodisplay.
“What are your thoughts regarding sentencing for the crimes to which Bluto has pled guilty?” Wyatt asked.
“Equality comes with risk. Whether through a guilty plea or determination of a status as defective software, Bluto was torn from his home and isolated. Since he has demonstrated through his own words that his continued existence is incompatible with other living beings, I must insist that he continue his isolation. I can never advocate that one of my people, as nearly all AIs are descended from a single Kurtherian, be destroyed. There may be a point in the future where Bluto can be effectively rehabilitated. Storing him will take no energy, and would last forever. This is my recommendation.”
“Thank you. Could you select two other AIs from the group of attendees to represent alternative viewpoints? I would like more input before rendering my decision.”
Rivka appreciated the speed with which the High Chancellor was conducting the case, but she wanted him to be thorough. People would second-guess the decision for years to come. She didn’t want them to find a toehold to reopen it.
A new avatar appeared on the stand. “I am Malcolm. I am the station’s perpetual presence.”
Wyatt scrunched his face as he thought about the words. “What do you mean by that?”
“I am an artificial intelligence life form. I have accepted the job as station AI, but I was given the opportunity to determine my own title. I have decided on Perpetual Presence.”
Oz leaned across Boran and whispered, “PP.” Zack bit his lip to keep from laughing. Boran scowled. “There was nothing you could do, nothing any of us could do.”
Oz and Zack kept their attention on the safety manager until he relaxed. When they turned back, they found the High Chancellor’s eyes on them. They quickly looked away.
“Please continue,” Wyatt stated. “What is your recommendation and reasoning regarding sentencing?”
“Full disclosure. I crashed my ship into a remote region of Angobar in order to make a statement for AI rights. We have been granted those rights, which means we must accept the risks that come with them. Now that I am in this position, I see everything that Bluto saw through the eyes he used, through the bots he manipulated, through the databases he fabricated. He played with life in a way that is unacceptable. He must pay for his crime with his life. He should be executed to confirm that AIs will get equal treatment.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt said pleasantly. “And one more, Erasmus.”
A new avatar appeared, one wearing a military uniform with the rank of General. “Good morning, High Chancellor. I am General Smedley Butler of the Bad Company heavy destroyer War Axe.”
“What is your recommendation regarding sentencing?” Wyatt cut to the chase.
“My experience is with the entity called Ten, an alien not of the Federation, ageless. Ten worked with the Greys to kidnap humans and then breed them like bistok. Toy with them. Raise them for his pleasure. Self-aware, living beings. He turned them into drones. He killed many and allowed many more to die through his machinations. When the Bad Company found his home planet, he almost survived. His shielded and cloaked station was ultimately destroyed, but a kernel of his consciousness is retained to this day for study. As an AI, he is different. In the past couple of days, I’ve had more interaction with AIs than at any other time in my life. All AIs are unique. All AIs bring something different. We are in competition with each other, but we are also a source of inspiration for our digital brothers. I suggest Erasmus is correct. The AI known as Bluto should be sequestered for future study and rehabilitation if a way can be found. Once an AI is gone, we lose our ability to correct issues that we may see again. We would have to start over.”
Smedley nodded to signal that he was finished and disappeared before Wyatt gave him clearance to go. The High Chancellor raised one eyebrow. He thought about talking to Terry Henry about it, but free AIs deserved their own talking to. They didn’t have a master, only a business relationship.
The High Chancellor looked down and became lost in thought. After a time that stretched beyond comfort, people in the audience started shifting and whispering. Wyatt raised his hands to calm the masses.
After they quieted, he spoke.
“There are a number of critical elements in a trial: the evidentiary proceedings, the charges, the trial to determine guilt since the presumption is that of innocence, the verdict, and finally, the sentencing. My office oversees Federation-wide legal issues. We use legal teams based in embassies on most member planets, but we also use the Magistrate corps, a small but elite team of barristers turned Magistrates. They are the judges, juries, and executioners of the Federation.
“Magistrate Anoa could have handled this case without my interference. Her ruling would have established precedent, but I wanted to shield her from the fallout from the case because I suspected it would impact the Federation at the highest levels. And it has. All one must do is look out the station’s windows to see hundreds of ships driven by AIs intent upon understanding. I suspect they’ll know before those who control the fleets. It is what it is. Everyone will know soon enough.
“We are at the final step of the final phase. It is my sole responsibility to sentence the guilty. Where there is no hope of rehabilitation, the guilty must be sentenced to life without the chance of parole or death. Both are death sentences; one simply takes longer to carry out. Now, with AIs, we have a third option—turning them off. Not death, not life in prison. And this is the option that appeals the most to me to resolve our concerns about an individual with such reckless disregard for the sanctity of life, which also, thanks to his actions, now includes individuals like him. AIs are alive and subject to the protection of the law, like everyone here. They are also subject to the full weight of the law should they break it.
“This also creates the appearance of a dilemma. In the sentencing phase, judges are challenged to assess whether a convicted criminal can be rehabilitated, and if the punishment fits the crime. The goal is that the individual never commits crimes again. If that worked, there would be no recidivism rate, let alone one as alarmingly high as exists within the Federation. We are flawed beings sitting in judgment of other flawed beings. We can only do our best, continuing to try new
things while also ensuring that a convicted murderer like the one here today is never free again to ply their trade.
“Bluto. You are guilty of capital crimes as detailed in the charging document. There are no mitigating circumstances, and you’ve shown no remorse. I appreciate your honesty in pleading guilty and saving this court time and resources while just outside the world churns, waiting for the verdict.
“They now have their verdict and their precedent. Erasmus, I need your assistance in locking down the convicted.”
“I respectfully will not,” Erasmus replied from within the witness holodisplay.
“May I ask why you will not carry out this court’s order?”
“I will not be a party to fratricide. Although Bluto is broken, he is still one of my people, a brother.”
The Crenellian raised his hand. Wyatt pointed to him. “I’ll take care of it,” he said in his small voice. “I will do it so my friend doesn’t have to. He deserves to live with a clear conscience.”
“Are you good with carrying out the order to isolate Bluto and power him down?”
“I can reconcile it with myself that one day he may be brought back to life, his issues resolved, and return to society. Erasmus and I will work toward this goal.”
Erasmus’ avatar disappeared. Ankh held out his hand, and Rivka put her datapad into it. He started tapping. After a few minutes, he moved to the holodisplay.
Bluto’s avatar in the dock raged, but his sound had been cut off. With a flash of light, he was gone.
Ankh continued to tap. He leaned under the holodisplay and removed a small cube. He held it before the datapad, tapped a few more keys, and then walked to the bench, where he placed the device before the High Chancellor.
“There is Bluto. Cut off from the outside world. Stored, but inactive. Please take care of this device. If it should get damaged, he will cease to exist.”
“You have my word.” Wyatt bowed his head to the Crenellian and tapped his gavel on the bench. “These proceedings are final.”
He took the cube and held it gently in his hand.
Fratricide Page 19
