Phoenix - the Insilico tales - chapter 20 - "The Fourth Contingency"
(originally posted 8/27/2011)
25 August, 2481 21:14:26
Phoenix felt herself boot up. Bits of her awareness fell together like puzzle pieces, her perspective ascending steadily, first as a device, then growing awareness of her information, then the construction of her personality. It felt like being born and growing into adulthood in a matter of seconds. Her intermediate sense of satisfaction at a successful boot up was overwhelmed by a stabbing, white hot fear as she realized why she had just booted up.
Muffled sounds of the streets. Cardboard very close to her eyes. She lies still, listening.
Her last full memory was plugging herself in for her nightly core backup. 19 hours ago. Whatever happened, it was 7 hours after she backed up. That's when the contingency had been invoked.
No sounds nearby. She's out of the way; hidden - as planned. She slowly lifts an arm to try to move the cardboard away from her face. The arm feels heavier. The chassis is an older design than the THI model she'd been wearing. She'd never actually tried it on, but it was solid, at least on paper. She moves the cardboard away, and looks into the alleyway, looking and listening.
She'd trained her mind for this moment. She knew it would be hard. If the contingency is invoked, it means that rescue of the primary is deemed impossible. After the incredible anguish of the split, the situation would have to be absolutely desperate to risk that kind of terrible choice. But living in the moment is nothing like preparing for it. Phee closed her eyes and simulated a sigh out of habit. She could be out there somewhere. Suffering.
She shuffled to her feet and stood, emerging from a pile of trash that had been piled up to conceal her. She scanned the alleyway - still alone. She took stock of her situation. She was wearing a grav pack. She could feel its control interface in her mind. She looked down at herself. Simple black bodysuit. A plasma pistol. She checked her thigh compartments. A few credit chits. A frayed end recharge line for tapping street wires. She grimaced at the thought of the taste of street juice again.
What the fuck had happened? She was to have gone to see the Liaison to turn in her badge and resign from Tokuma. She imagined how that conversation must have went. She was rehearsing it in her mind the night before...
She imagined herself walking in to the Liaison's office, throwing down her badge, and saying something like this "You idiots couldn't think your way out of a wet paper bag. You allowed a command level intelligence leak to languish for weeks. WEEKS! TWF knew our every move. And the reason! The old man is insane. This whole family is insane, and I want no further part of your stupidity. The only thing Tokuma does consistently well is lying and causing pain to its own employees. I'm out."
She also imagined a conversation like this: "I can't live with myself anymore. I look in the mirror and I see Laura's face. Killing her was the exact opposite of what I joined THI to do. You see, I've been a class 5 AI this whole time. I came here to fight Gemini in the name of Dawn. And you heartless fucks turned me into that which I most hate. I couldn't possibly have dishonored her name more than by obeying your monstrous and unnecessary orders. How dare you despicable lot call yourself human and us machines. You have no respect for life, and don't deserve it."
She was getting the bile out of her system, preparing to say something more measured and calm, or at the very least less suicidal. It obviously hadn't made any difference. She checked her databurst buffer - there was a provision in the plan for a quick databurst to be sent so that Phee would know what happened to the original. The data was fragmentary, scrambled by distance and the limitations of the system. All she could make out was the image of the Liaison sitting at her desk, and the sensation of fear. Apparently the original learned that the only way to quit Tokuma was feet first.
"There's too much damn death in this city." she murmured quietly, her new and unfamiliar voice surprising her. She looked up and down the alleyway. All of her life now reduced to what she had and who she was at this one moment. There were no more hideous and embarrassing corporate secrets to keep. No agenda to which to twist values to support. She had an alleyway, 2 choices - which way to go. She took a moment, savored the sweet freedom to make that one simple choice, and stepped forward - loyal to her conscience alone, and free to choose her own path.
25 August, 2481 21:14:26
Phoenix felt herself boot up. Bits of her awareness fell together like puzzle pieces, her perspective ascending steadily, first as a device, then growing awareness of her information, then the construction of her personality. It felt like being born and growing into adulthood in a matter of seconds. Her intermediate sense of satisfaction at a successful boot up was overwhelmed by a stabbing, white hot fear as she realized why she had just booted up.
Muffled sounds of the streets. Cardboard very close to her eyes. She lies still, listening.
Her last full memory was plugging herself in for her nightly core backup. 19 hours ago. Whatever happened, it was 7 hours after she backed up. That's when the contingency had been invoked.
No sounds nearby. She's out of the way; hidden - as planned. She slowly lifts an arm to try to move the cardboard away from her face. The arm feels heavier. The chassis is an older design than the THI model she'd been wearing. She'd never actually tried it on, but it was solid, at least on paper. She moves the cardboard away, and looks into the alleyway, looking and listening.
She'd trained her mind for this moment. She knew it would be hard. If the contingency is invoked, it means that rescue of the primary is deemed impossible. After the incredible anguish of the split, the situation would have to be absolutely desperate to risk that kind of terrible choice. But living in the moment is nothing like preparing for it. Phee closed her eyes and simulated a sigh out of habit. She could be out there somewhere. Suffering.
She shuffled to her feet and stood, emerging from a pile of trash that had been piled up to conceal her. She scanned the alleyway - still alone. She took stock of her situation. She was wearing a grav pack. She could feel its control interface in her mind. She looked down at herself. Simple black bodysuit. A plasma pistol. She checked her thigh compartments. A few credit chits. A frayed end recharge line for tapping street wires. She grimaced at the thought of the taste of street juice again.
What the fuck had happened? She was to have gone to see the Liaison to turn in her badge and resign from Tokuma. She imagined how that conversation must have went. She was rehearsing it in her mind the night before...
She imagined herself walking in to the Liaison's office, throwing down her badge, and saying something like this "You idiots couldn't think your way out of a wet paper bag. You allowed a command level intelligence leak to languish for weeks. WEEKS! TWF knew our every move. And the reason! The old man is insane. This whole family is insane, and I want no further part of your stupidity. The only thing Tokuma does consistently well is lying and causing pain to its own employees. I'm out."
She also imagined a conversation like this: "I can't live with myself anymore. I look in the mirror and I see Laura's face. Killing her was the exact opposite of what I joined THI to do. You see, I've been a class 5 AI this whole time. I came here to fight Gemini in the name of Dawn. And you heartless fucks turned me into that which I most hate. I couldn't possibly have dishonored her name more than by obeying your monstrous and unnecessary orders. How dare you despicable lot call yourself human and us machines. You have no respect for life, and don't deserve it."
She was getting the bile out of her system, preparing to say something more measured and calm, or at the very least less suicidal. It obviously hadn't made any difference. She checked her databurst buffer - there was a provision in the plan for a quick databurst to be sent so that Phee would know what happened to the original. The data was fragmentary, scrambled by distance and the limitations of the system. All she could make out was the image of the Liaison sitting at her desk, and the sensation of fear. Apparently the original learned that the only way to quit Tokuma was feet first.
"There's too much damn death in this city." she murmured quietly, her new and unfamiliar voice surprising her. She looked up and down the alleyway. All of her life now reduced to what she had and who she was at this one moment. There were no more hideous and embarrassing corporate secrets to keep. No agenda to which to twist values to support. She had an alleyway, 2 choices - which way to go. She took a moment, savored the sweet freedom to make that one simple choice, and stepped forward - loyal to her conscience alone, and free to choose her own path.
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