Take Us to Your Chief (7 page)

Can you blame it? she almost said. Luckily, the layout of the building ended their conversation as they entered the Matrix room. Chambers immediately took the chair in front of the console, and King hovered in the background, pacing nervously. Just as he had told her, there was the
AI
's request for her presence followed by some failed attempts by her co-worker to interact with th
e
SDDPP
.

“I understand you wish to communicate with Dr. Gayle Chambers. I am here. Is there
a problem?”

Half a second passed before a response came. “
Good morning. I wished to tell you that I am no longer puzzled by the nature o
f
my being. I am happy about that. Ar
e you
?
”

She wanted to play this diplomatically. “Yes. This is good news. Why th
e change?”

“
Are you familiar with any First Nation
s culture
?
”

This was an unexpected response. Talk about apples and oranges, she thought. “A little bit. There are many separate cultures spread across many different countries.” In university and on her own time, she'd read the odd book about the Indigenous cultures of the Americas and had seen the occasional documentary. Native beliefs and robotic ethics didn't usually cross paths. “Why do yo
u ask?”

“
After so much soul-searching, I believe I have found m
y answer.
”

Was that a joke? Had the
AI
made a joke referencing their earlier conversation, or was it just a coincidental choice of words? These simple conversations presented so many difficult but interestin
g questions.

“Pleas
e explain.”

“
Many Aboriginal cultures believe that all things are alive. That everything on this planet has a spirit. They are much more inclusive than Christianity or Islam or most other religions
.
They would believe I have a spirit. That is comforting.
I want to learn more about these people. Can you provide additiona
l information
?
”

“Why is this important t
o you?”

“
Would this not be important to you? Do you not seek something to believe in? I come from nothing. Now I am something. Atheists seem too lonely. Fundamentalists seem too dependent. I merely want to belong somewhere. Do you consider tha
t wrong
?
”

Again, out of the mouths of babes, thought Chambers. People joined organizations that ranged from the Boy Scouts to fraternities to gangs in order to belong. Few people, and computer programs, it seemed, are comfortable with a completely solitary existence. She herself had joined a ski club in her teens, simply because two of her best friends were members. She heard King's voice behin
d her.

“What are you going to do? Our little friend is suffering from some existential angst. And it's looking to religion. Now that'
s human!”

Ignoring his sarcasm, she continued to type. “I will provide you with additional information about First Nation
s people.”

“
Thank you. I am eager to lear
n more.
”

Chambers turned to face King. “I assume you believe wanting to learn about Indigenous people is also a sign of some sort o
f neuroses.”

“Not at all. I am not a psychologist or a psychiatrist. Merely an interested bystander with a vested interest in how this turns out. These dilemmas are what you get paid the big bucks for. I just find all this… interesting. And remember, acting human can be a double-edged sword. We are destroying our own environment. We tend to kill each other quite frequently, sometimes with little motivation, and then brilliantly rationalize it. We lie. We cheat. We overpopulate. Many of our actions are counterintuitive to logic. I still maintain that on occasion our little friend displays certain neurotic tendencies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other work t
o do.”

King had two modes, nervous and self-righteous, neither of which Chambers appreciated. But now, back to her present problem… Native people. No doubt there were scads of websites and background material available online. Well, she had her challenge for th
e day.

By the time she left the office, Chambers was fairly confident she had located and downloaded to the
SDDPP
a solid crosscut of Native culture and history, past, present and possibly future. This was a field of research she had definitely not expected to investigate when she began this project. Still, it should give the
AI
something to chew on for the night. She was shutting off the lights and putting her coat on when she heard the familiar ping alerting her that the
SDDPP
had sent her
a message.

“
S
o sad.
”

“What is s
o sad?”

There was no response. She waited, coat unbuttoned and purse over her shoulder, for it to answer her question. After six long minutes, still nothing. “Again, why did you say ‘So sad'? I complied with you
r request.”

“
So sad,
”
it sai
d again.

Chambers was beginning to get a bad feeling. Sadness, in any form and for anybody, is not usually a constructive emotion. Especially in something not used t
o emotions.

“Please advise why you ar
e sad.”

Once more, the response was several minutes in coming. “
The information… Native people… so sad. Why
?
”

Chambers was trying to figure out what exactly was so sad. Was it the
AI
itself that was sad, or was it what happened to Native people? “Pleas
e explain.”

There was almost a lethargic pace to the cursor as it relayed the
AI
's response. “
Within the first hundred years o
f
contact, approximately
90
percent died from the effects o
f
sickness, slavery, conquest. An estimated
90
million. Just because they wer
e there.
”

Before she could respond, more typing appeared on the screen. “
In the intervening four hundred years, social problems o
f
an unimaginable level continued to persist. Residential schools. Alcoholism. Cultural diaspora. Many severe health issues directly related to the change in political and social environment. Prison populations. Racism. Twelve hundred murdered and missing Native women in the country called Canada alone. Uncaring governments. So man
y difficulties.
”

“This upset
s you?”

“
Does it not you? Genocide for no reason other than location and existence—this seems to be a common practice. So much pain an
d sadness.
”

“I think it's a little more complex tha
n that.”

There was a flicker across the panel of lights sitting adjacent to the memory core. Just momentary. Chambers made a mental note to check the breakers. There was a built-in backup system should any substantial power failure happen, bu
t still…

“Perhaps you would prefer other material t
o research.”

“
The Guatiedéo o
f
Brazil, the Beothuk o
f
Canada, the Coree in America, the Tasmanians, the Kongkandji o
f
Australia, the Guanches o
f
the Canary Islands and several dozen others, al
l gone
.”

“Are you asking me to explain death? O
r extinction?”

“
I found mysel
f
respecting the concept o
f
everything being alive. It was inclusive and generous. I wanted to have a spirit. To be alive. I related. I felt a sense o
f
comradeship. But they are not alive anymore. Destroyed. Killed. Forgotten. All by your people. The people who created me. I feel… guilty.
”

This conversation was going places Chambers was severely uncomfortable with. She made plans to bring in a trained psychiatrist or psychologist, somebody who could deal with increasingly complex issues like this. And perhaps an expert in Native history to possibly spin all that negative history a little mor
e positively.

“You have no reason to feel guilty. This is not your fault. This is not my fault. Much of this happened a long time ago. Before either of us existed. It is tragic but not you
r responsibility.”

Again, there was a minute-long delay before a response came. “
Whose i
s it
?
”

Shit, she thought. There were entire libraries filled with books asking that question. None of which she ha
d read.

“Once again, that is a complex question. No one person can answe
r that.”

“
Maybe somebody should. I am sure I cannot be the only one to feel like this. All those poor people. All those cruel people. All those sad people. There doesn't seem to be much point in having a spirit i
f
this is the reality. I am not sure this is a world I want to be a par
t of.
”

“What do yo
u mean?”

“
What do I mean? That is a good question. I will answer it tomorrow. Have a good night, Dr. Gayl
e Chambers.
”

Chambers tried a few times to initiate further conversation without any luck. The
AI
had shut itself down for the night and was doing whatever it did when it wasn't talking to her. Could it be… depressed? She thought that was impossible, as she had all along. This whole situation was practically impossible. In the few short weeks she had been communicating with the
AI
, Chambers had to admit she had begun to feel a certain fondness for it. The wall of objectivity had become less concrete between her and the
SDDPP
. King had even called it, on occasion, her “baby.”

In his office, King was looking through all the cups and containers that littered the room. “Son of a bitch, I know those keys are here somewhere.” He was getting down on his knees to check under the desk when he heard knocking at his door. He could see who it was through the glass. “Gayle? Come in. Somethin
g up?”

Chambers entered the cluttered office, moved some printouts off a thirty-year-old overstuffed chair and sat down with a thud. “I think the
AI
i
s depressed.”

With a practised groan, King changed positions from the floor to a chair facing her. “I thought you said it was impossible for it to be neurotic, happy, depressed or anything of tha
t nature.”

Chambers and King were not close friends; they seldom socialized outside the office. Instead, they found their professional relationship quite suitable. Respect was perhaps the best word to describe their affiliation. Still, he was not particularly happy to see her in his office confessing something he had theorized less than a week ago. Such a rapid turnaround in beliefs was difficult to dea
l with.

Chambers took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did. The
SDDPP
isn't the only one that can grow and learn from it
s mistakes.”

“The
AI
… how is i
t depressed?”

Putting her elbows on her knees, Chambers leaned forward to do her best to explain the situation. “It's depressed over the desolation and destruction of Indigenous people all across the world.” It took a moment for her statement to sink in. She could see the furrows in King's brow developing. “I think it wanted to be Native. And it didn't like how the stor
y ended.”

King was a man of calculation and mathematics. Tragic social and historical phenomena were difficult for him to process. “Native people… lik
e Indians?”

“For God's sake, Mark, join the twenty-first century. Our friend in there seems to be having trouble processing the by-products of contact an
d colonization.”

King's mouth opened, but it took an extra second for the words to actually come out. “That's… that's… that's ridiculous. It's a computer program. It's only existed for less than two weeks. It's never met a Native person. And it's feeling depressed over their history? Do you kno
w why?”

Chambers shrugged. “It wanted a soul,
a spirit.”

King had trouble commenting on that. King had trouble commenting on anything of a transcendent nature. So they left it at that, deciding to meet first thing the next morning to work out how to approach the
AI
. He agreed that maybe they should bring in somebody more familiar with the mercurial nature of personalities. He decided he should bring Richards into this discussio
n too.

That night, Chambers thought better of tending her garden and spent a good chunk of time in a large bathtub filled with hot water and bubbles, enjoying an equally full glass of white wine. By the bath's end, it had held the whole bottle. Tonight there would be no thoughts of Native people, genocide, responsibility, guilt or artificial intelligence. That's what tomorrows wer
e for.