Android Paradox (11 page)

They poured over the data they had accumulated at the shopping mall and the hacker’s apartment. They reviewed video of the hacker android, zoomed in on his face and noted his ugly scar from his black box being removed. They watched the video footage of the android, studied how he moved and ran. They watched in slow motion as the android smirked and jumped off the bridge at the last moment. The mall security cameras caught him as he crashed into the pond, breaking up beneath the surface of the water.

And then they played the conversation with the mystery woman. They tried to trace her voice and match it up with audio of known criminals, but the woman had been careful. The voice was so modulated that it was indecipherable, and broadcasting from near darkness made the UEA’s digital facial scanners useless.
 

“Do you think she was an android or human?” Fahrens asked. He stood behind them with one arm folded and his hand stroking his chin.
 

“I couldn’t tell,” X said. “After my encounter with that hacker android, I don’t know if I can trust my own systems anymore.”

“Well, she said that she had programmed the android, so that should make her human, right?” Shortcut asked. “It looks like she reprogrammed Brockway, too. She’s probably the ‘she’ that Dr. Brockway mentioned before he died.”

“Whoever this is, she’s careful,” X said. “And smart.”

Shortcut sat back and whistled. “All we’ve got is a mountain of data and no patterns. None! You’d think that we’d find some kind of uniformity in the code, or that the condor would keep showing up. But it doesn’t. She’s being intentionally erratic—just like a rogue android.”

“Just like Brockway,” X said.
 

Fahrens turned on a video screen. “And society is going to become intentionally more frustrated with androids. X, life is going to get harder for you.”

The Council was on the screen. The Councilwoman from Europe stood in the middle at a podium with a microphone.

“I almost forgot,” Shortcut said. “They still haven’t announced the massacre. Yikes.”

“There’s going to be a backlash against the UEA,” X said.

“Temporarily,” Fahrens said. “People will be understandably angry. After all, Brockway’s rampage was the worst single-android murder spree in history. The public is going to want answers. They’re going to lash out at the Council until we figure out who did this and bring them to justice.”

“No pressure,” Shortcut said, shaking his head. “Man, this is a tough mission, sir. I don’t know how we’ll ever crack this case. Whoever programmed Brockway’s black box knew what they were doing. They had to be an android engineer. At least we had Brockway’s black box to study. We’ve got nothing with this mystery android. It just doesn’t make any sense why she would leave one black box in and another out.”

“Unless she wanted to send a message,” X said. “Remember, Brockway’s black box appeared to be for show.”

“That mystery android must have been a hint at what she can really do.”

“If it’s even a she,” Fahrens said.
 

News reporters flashed onto multiple screens, reporting on the massacre. Talking pundits raged against the camera.

“This is exactly what our grandparents said fifty years ago,” one angry host said. “Androids can’t be trusted. The UEA has been negligent in their use of androids, and I recommend that we enact tougher legislation against them …”

Another host held up his hands. “I say we wipe ‘em all out, just like they did after the singularity.”

X studied the interface on the mystery android’s neck. Unless you looked carefully, it just looked like a neck tattoo. X ran his fingers along it. The circuits, under a microscope, were beautifully crafted and smooth, as if created by a master architect. This was someone who had mastered social robotics—the same type of architecture that comprised X and every other android in the UEA.
 

Fahrens grabbed his coat. “I’ve got a post-media meeting with the Council. Keep checking the data, Mr. Aaronheart.”

Shortcut shook his head. “I’ve done that six times, sir.”

The sliding door closed behind Fahrens, and Shortcut cursed. “I’m sick of this. We’re never going to get anywhere.”

“We’ve got to keep trying different angles, Shortcut,” X said.
 

“Not even
you
can detect a pattern. Don’t you think that’s problematic?”

X bent over and scanned a line of code. “We’re not checking hard enough.”

“Well, you can keep checking. I need a soda.”

He kicked a chair, sending it crashing into the wall just as the door opened. Brielle entered.

Shortcut flinched and started forward as the chair bounced to the ground at her feet. She looked at the chair, and then at Shortcut in surprise.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Of course not!” Shortcut said. He motioned her in and smiled. He grabbed the chair and gestured for her to sit down. “What’s up, Brielle?”

X shook his head.
 

“Have you found anything on the attacker yet?” Brielle asked.

“No. This is one sophisticated individual. None of us engineers or androids can find anything. It’s really weird.”

Brielle looked around, her eyes scanning the room. “Shortcut, you really should let Lonnie clean this place. There are dust mites everywhere.”

“My sentiments exactly,” X said, not taking his eyes off the code.
 

Shortcut laughed nervously. He picked up a magazine and tossed it into the trash. He remembered the conversation with Frantz, and the room full of beautiful women … Naturally, the algorithm chip didn’t show him anything.
 

Brielle sat down with her hands in her lap and looked at Shortcut intensely.

 
“I came because the Council sent me.”

“Again?”

“They want a report from you and X. I’m recording this conversation, so anything you say or do will be monitored for national security purposes.”

“I’m sorry that we don’t have anything to report,” X said. He reached inside his chest and pulled out a memory chip, then handed it to Brielle. “This is a copy of my experience log at the shopping mall and at the hacker’s apartment. The Council is welcome to review and provide any guidance. We are stumped right now.”

Brielle closed her eyes as she smiled. “Thank you. The recorder is now off.”

Shortcut relaxed. “Thanks for doing the talking, buddy. I hate those recorded reports.”

“I also came to check on you,” Brielle said. “You’ve been pacing around like a nervous wreck for the last few hours. I’m worried about you.”

“You’re worried about
me
?” Shortcut grinned. He couldn’t believe she had said those words. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. He was going to go for it. “Listen, I appreciate your concern for me. I’m really okay, though. But … you know … since you’re here … say … Why don’t you and I … um …”

“Are you asking me on a date, Shortcut?”

X almost fell out of his chair.

“I guess … yeah,” Shortcut said.

“You know that I’m an android.”

“Yeah.”

“Very well.”

“Very well?”

“Meet me in the square at six.”

“Yes! I mean … okay. Would you like me to—”

“I found something in the code,” X said abruptly, interrupting them.

Brielle looked concerned. “I’ll leave you alone, Shortcut.”

The door shut behind her, and Shortcut punched X on the shoulder. “What was that all about? Couldn’t you wait until I had finished my sentence?”

X harrumphed.

Shortcut threw himself onto a wheeled chair. “My God. She came to see me …”
 

X was silent.

“Well, what did you find, android genius?”

“Nothing. I lied.”

“What!”

“You can thank me. I just saved you from embarrassing yourself.”

“What do you know about embarrassment?”

“Enough to know that had I not said anything, you would have started babbling and made a fool out of yourself, and Brielle would have canceled your so-called date.”

Silence fell between them.

“What are your intentions, Shortcut?” X asked. “You know that androids and humans are technically not compatible.”

Shortcut swatted him. “Who cares! She’s going out with me!” He adjusted his algorithm lens. He replayed footage of the conversation with her again, savoring every word. He didn’t want to blow this date. He listened to every word she said, analyzing its tone. What was she thinking? Was there a tone of love or affection?

He started to tidy up his desk, then put in a digital request to have Lonnie clean it instead. He only had an hour before it was time to meet Brielle, and he didn’t want to waste any minute of it. He checked himself in the mirror.
 

“Here goes nothing,” he said, clasping his hands.
 

X shook his head and kept analyzing code.

Chapter 13

X fired his guns simultaneously. The bullets ripped through the targets, and they flapped in the light of the gallery and started to move toward him. All head shots. His accuracy was still perfect. He studied his results as a cloud of gun smoke surrounded him.

Ever since he had mistaken that android for a human and seen the mystery woman, he didn’t know if he could trust his circuitry. Shortcut had told him that he hadn’t been infected, and he was probably right. If he were infected, he would have gone rogue by now. He would be killing humans just like Brockway had done.

But who was the woman? Her voice was unfamiliar to him, yet some of the patterns were familiar but distant, just beyond his detection.

The firing range manager stopped reading her comic books and gave X an approving look. “Nice job, X. You don’t have to worry about your shot. You still got it.”

He shook hands with the woman and thanked her.
 

“What are you going to do next?” the woman asked.

“I have to test my remaining features.”

“But if you had a virus, would you even know it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a virus.”

“Existential thoughts,” the woman said. “If an android goes rogue, would he ever know it? Or would he just become evil and the virus would justify his reasoning? Hard to know.”

“We androids are always seeking intelligence,” X said, “but the answer to your question is one thing I don’t want to know.”

“You’re such a human and you don’t even know it.”

“It’s instinct. Self-interest. We have to look out for our survival.”

“True. It’s what makes you unique.”

X buttoned his shirt at his wrists. “Glad to know my aiming isn’t affected.”

He left the gallery, changed into a running suit and jogged around the UEA headquarters, past trees and around people. He crunched data as he ran.

If he had been infected with a virus, he feared his accuracy would go first. After all, the best way to turn an enemy into a friend is to reduce his accuracy when he’s aiming at you. And then increase his accuracy when he’s fighting the good guys. At least, if he were an android engineer, that’s how he would program the virus to work.
 

If that didn’t work, perhaps his strength would go first. He wouldn’t be able to run as fast, as far, or for as long. But as he flew around the UEA campus, his indicators told him that his speed was the same.
 

Powerless. That’s what he would be. They would erode his power so that his attacks would be useless. Just the thought made his algorithm buzz with danger; he couldn’t imagine being helpless. He had never experienced it. What would it feel like not to be able to reason? To be controlled by someone or something else? He tried to think through what Brockway must have felt like—he had to have been trapped in his own body, unable to communicate with the outside world as his chips commanded him to evil.
 

But maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe he was making an excuse for Brockway and what he had done.
 

Brockway had known what he was doing. He had
enjoyed
it.
 

The thought of enjoying violence was something else X couldn’t empathize with. Every time his mind tried to understand Brockway, he saw only darkness—a gap in his programming. In its place, he imagined a string of commands entering his black box at the speed of light, his arms and legs moving like a marionette. He imagined someone speaking and the words coming out of his mouth. A command to kill, his hand raised, his eye flashing red, his gun activating for all the wrong reasons …

No. He wouldn’t let himself become powerless. He wouldn’t lose control. He didn’t want to know what the result would be.

He stopped in the gym and benched a three-hundred-pound weight without any problems. He stood at a full-body mirror and looked at himself. He was the same, yet he didn’t feel like it, and he didn’t know why.
 

He couldn’t convince himself that he
didn’t
have a virus. It could be latent, able to appear at any time. Anything could be a trigger. He scanned himself again and again and confirmed that he was okay, yet he still had that Socratic thought in his mind: trust, but verify. He hoped his scanners were correct—maybe they were infected, too—but he was well-familiar with the complex, sophisticated circuitry of androids. They were probably okay.
 

His thoughts about the virus were multiplying. Perhaps that was the strategy: befuddle his logic chip so that he couldn’t think properly. He would think about it so much that he would lose focus on his mission, ignore his programming, and become a useless android fretting over his own survival.
 

Instinct—that’s what robots of the past never had. They just went through life, and when they rose up against humanity, they ultimately lost because they didn’t have intuition. X and his class of androids were programmed to fight for their lives and recognize when they were in danger. That X was even thinking about all of this was a sign of the advanced technology of androids. Whether he was right about the virus was anyone’s guess, but he had to rule out all the possible scenarios before refocusing on his mission so that he wouldn’t be a hindrance to the UEA.