Living in Syn (8 page)

The
Paradox conference room made Mission nervous.  In fact, the entire idea of
working things out in a meeting put him on edge.  He tracked down renegades,
stalked them until he knew their routines, and then took them out as fast as
possible, hopefully limiting damage to his person.  Period. Now he sat in a
business environment, trying to figure out what might happen next.  First of
all, the room looked much different than he expected.  Perhaps he imagined a
huge hall filled with stockholders and directors.  Thus the room's relatively
small proportions shocked him.  But more than that, the room conveyed the
feeling of weight, of the certainty that comes from generations of wealth.

Everything
in the room seemed massive and silent.  The thickest, heaviest wooden table he
had ever seen seated twelve.  More than six inches thick, it held two one-inch deep
drawers at each setting.  They contained parchment and onyx pens to be dipped
in ink.  Who actually writes nowadays? And with an ink pen? Equally massive
bookcases lined the walls and handsome leather bound books filled their
shelves.  They also held cut-lead crystal decanters filled with the world's
finest brandies, scotches, and the like.

The
ceiling formed a cupola over the room.  Hand carved mahogany trim rimmed its
insides.  Finally, the trim gave way to a stunning mural of Da Vinci, with one
of his paintings in progress, and with notes on his work table showing his
helicopter design, anatomy drawings, and several other works.  Mission located
the artist signature.  He nodded.  No expense had been spared.

Reviewing
the bios on the Paradox officers would occupy his mind.  Susan had briefed him,
and their organization was really quite simple.  The president and three vice
presidents directed the entire company. 

Vice
President Warren Westin managed the vast Operations Division.  Sometimes the
distinction between engineer and scientist means little.  With Warren it meant
everything.  He was an engineer from beginning to end.  Paradox recruited him
during the early years, as much to provide them with credibility as to obtain
results.  As Chief of Operations for a major computer manufacturer, and then as
Executive Vice President for ten more years in manufacturing
smart
prosthetic devices, industry considered him the best in his field.

He made
an immediate and dramatic impact at Paradox.  He led an operation that used
more of a
make it in your garage
process to an award winning system for
quality and productivity.  Susan rated him as extremely effective, but blunt
sometimes to a fault.  He despised office politics and preferred to shoot it
out in the Officer's Meetings.  Right now, he  frowned, presumably at the
prospect of this meeting.  At most he reached 5'8" and measured about the
same in width.  Nevertheless, he wore a work of art in a suit Mission guessed
to be tailor made in London or Hong Kong.

Vice
President Tanya Ricci led the Sales and Marketing Division.  Mission tended to
dismiss women's descriptions of other women, but he admitted Susan hit the mark
with Tanya.  The clothes didn't say it, they seemed exactly what a powerful and
attractive woman would wear to a business meeting.  To be sure, her mouth
suggested contradiction with indications of passion and cruelty, or perhaps it
was her eyes sending messages with potential for seduction or frozen reserve. 
In any event, the sum of the impressions told Mission that this woman was a
predator in every facet of her life. 

She came
directly to Paradox from college, and while she performed well, she didn't set
the world on fire. But about a year ago, she changed her appearance to take
advantage of her looks and worked much more aggressively.  Then the promotions
chased her until the current VP retired, mostly to escape the pressure of Tanya
nipping at her heels.  In terms of success, Tanya continued to increase sales
in the Paradox traditional markets, and displayed real creativity in developing
new markets.

Vice
President Fenwicke Matlin headed perhaps the most impressive commercial think
tank in the world inside his Research and Development Division.  Susan's
department comprised a major piece of R & D, and she reported directly to
Fenwicke.  He wanted no part of management or administration, and delegated
those duties to his deputy.  He wanted to play in the laboratory, and to tinker
with the synthetics.  His legendary brilliance sometimes inhibited a clear
focus on non-technical issues, but he contributed stunning breakthroughs in the
design of each successive synthetic model. 

Susan
warned Mission not to be fooled by his
absent minded professor
exterior.  He could handle the management and political issues, as he proved in
the past.  He simply didn't want to, and would not acquiesce unless pushed into
a corner.  His suit looked to be ten years old, and his tie hung untied from
his collar.  His shock of curly brown hair sported the disarray of the
Einstein
look
.  While waiting for the meeting to start, he played with a hand held computer
running a simulation of the syn command central brain module.

The
President of Paradox, Chandler Hunt approached the table.  Although no longer a
kid, the public clung to the image of him as a teenaged science whiz, with his
professor Fenwicke Matlin and auto mechanic Reece Burton building robots from a
garage.  Somehow, he still carried that quality of youthful enthusiasm,
although his shrewd business sense now kept Paradox the uncontested master of
complex robotics applications. 

He wore
thick glasses that seemed much too big for his face, and he was three weeks
past needing a haircut.  He wore gray slacks and a blue blazer with white socks
and black wing tips.  Mission supposed that when one holds a personal net worth
of more than $800 billion, one can wear anything one damn well pleases.  Susan
described him as the perfect president of a tech company.  He no longer
involved himself in design, but consistently raced ahead of the world in his
vision of where technology would go next, and communicating how Paradox would lead
the charge.

Of
course, General Snowden, Major Pierce, Susan St. Jean, and Hunt's secretary,
synthetic Paul Baker sat at the table anticipating the start.  Hunt looked
around, and seeing that everyone was present, kicked off the meeting.  He
welcomed the Army, asked for introductions all around the table, and then
turned the meeting over to General Snowden.

The
General stood, paused and then began.  "Mr. Hunt and the Paradox family, I
want to thank you for your hospitality in having us here today.  What I have to
discuss today is a delicate subject, a sensitive subject, and most importantly,
a matter of national security.  I have here copies of the National Security
Act, to which all of you as citizens of the United States are obligated. 
Obviously, synthetics are not covered by the NSA, but the owner of the
synthetic is responsible for any security breach as a result of a synthetic's
actions.  The subjects discussed here today cannot be shared with any other person
or synthetic.  The penalty for violating this federal statute can be as severe
as the death penalty.  Now, what I hope for here today, is a frank and open
discussion of our concerns.  Does anyone have questions about the security
governing our meeting?"

He gave
them time to think about it, and when no one spoke, he said, "Good.  Let's
move on to the real topic."

He sat
down, leaned forward, and spoke in a confidential manner.  "You see, we
find ourselves in a bit of a predicament here.  A place where discretion is
uppermost in our minds and the need for certainty is imperative.  I suppose my
first question is this.  Can anyone else on this planet manufacture a robot
that can pass for human?"

Hunt
shook his head.  "Absolutely not.  The R&D money required, the
manufacturing facilities, the successive iterations to optimize.  No, there are
no competitors."

"I
see.  Then what would be the possibility of modifying a Paradox
synthetic?"

This
prompted different answers from everyone.  Hunt finally managed to ask,
"What kind of modification?  The responses can vary tremendously, based on
what you have in mind."

The
General nodded.  "What we are talking about is a synthetic modified to
attack and kill humans."

A
collective gasp washed across the table and Hunt said, "No, absolutely
impossible.  Before a model could be altered to that extent, central logic
would be destroyed and the body paralyzed.  It just couldn't happen. 
Everything that Paradox does revolves around our inviolable law that synthetics
must never harm humans!"

Matlin
started to talk soothingly saying, "Now Chandler, we know that saying
something isn't possible isn’t a realistic ... "

Major Pierce
broke in.  "Wait a minute.  You're making these absolute statements like
they are carved into stone tablets.  Isn't it true that synthetics go crazy
every day and harm humans?"

Hunt
looked adamant as he said, "Less than one in 500,000 harms a human.  A
greater percentage of ministers kill people.  A greater percentage of
grandmothers assault people.  As a matter of fact, the odds are much greater
that the adults in the home will be killed by their own children, than by their
synthetic.  Automobiles kill over 1000 times more people per capita and aircars
more than 600 times.  In fact, if you look at the statistics, you will see that
... "

The
General interrupted, "Yes, yes.  I read your sales brochures.  I believe
the Major has noted your statement that it is impossible to modify a synthetic
to harm a human, and asked how you explain the current situation.  So, I repeat
his question, don't synthetics harm humans every day?"

Hunt
exerted considerable effort to hold his temper and he spoke very deliberately. 
"Yes, a minute fraction of our synthetics develop mental disturbances so
severe that they sometimes harm humans before they can be destroyed."

"So,
would it be possible to cultivate this aberrant behavior to develop a group of
assassins?"

Hunt
started to answer and then Fenwicke interrupted saying, "Chandler, I
really believe Susan is best qualified to answer this one."

 "Yes,
you’re right.  Susan?"

"Well
... I suppose anything is possible, but my staff correlates billions upon
billions of factors to find why a mental breakdown occurs, and we haven't a
clue.  In this sense, synthetics are like people in that each is a complete
individual.  But to take this even further, we see that as central processing
breaks down enough for violent behavior to occur, brain functions degrade
across the board.  The thought that anyone could control and direct a synthetic
with this degree of mental damage is ridiculous.  It couldn't happen."

Hunt
smiled.  The Major and the General looked at each other hesitantly.  Finally,
Fenwicke Matlin spoke up.  "Now, as much as I enjoy spinning my wheels,
this idle speculation gets us nowhere.  Which is where we happen to be at the
moment.  So why don't you drop this
cards held close to the vest
crap,
and tell us what has you worried?"    

The
General considered.  "All right.  All right, that's what we'll do.  Over
the past six months, we found seven instances reported that involve a synthetic
trained as an assassin."

The
impact of the statement pushed the group into an uproar.  No one believed it. 
Hunt's voice rose over all the others.  "Is this what the fuss is about? 
The Fundamentalists have screamed monster since before we sold our first
synthetic.  If only you had checked, you would know they wage a constant war
against us with boycotts, law suits, and out and out harassment.  They managed
118 rape charges against synthetics last year.  No convictions, but they got
Synthetic
Held on Charges of Raping a 12 Year Old
headlines in all the major papers. 
The stories on the acquittals a year afterward appeared on page 27.  More than
20,000 synthetics suffered attacks last year from spray painting to physical
damage all the way to destruction.  We just can't lay down and play dead for a
group that probably protested the first automobile.  You have to recognize ...
"

"Mr.
Hunt!  Chandler.  We know about your difficulties with certain extremist groups. 
We corroborated these case reports with overwhelming physical evidence and eye
witness testimony.  They are not tainted by philosophy or religion."

Hunt
looked toward the ceiling.  "I don't believe it."

"Would
you accept the word of a bounty hunter who makes his living tracking down
renegade synthetics?"

Hunt
pointed toward Mission, "I take it you mean Mission?"

The
General nodded and Hunt said, "Well,  I don't promise that I will believe
him, but I will listen to him."

Mission
told his story of the syn who ambushed him in the Free Zone.  The group
listened carefully and asked a few questions to clarify or amplify.  At the
conclusion, Hunt came to attention and said, "This is certainly a
regrettable episode, synthetics at their very worst.  But nothing I've heard
suggests anything more than an emotionally disturbed synthetic, trying to
escape recovery. Virtually all violent incidents involve bounty hunters trying
to destroy the syn.  This is one of those violent occurrences, General, that
you insisted I acknowledge only a few moments ago.  Wouldn't you agree?"

Mission
asked, "What about the shot to her head that didn't bring her down?  What
about her tracking and surveillance skills?"

Hunt
laughed.  "Mission, really.  Are you saying that a shot at the right angle
wouldn't deflect off a standard skull casing?  And as for her skills, I do
appreciate your endorsement of our models as especially intelligent.  General,
are you satisfied?"