Trouble
“Dude, this is crazy.” Jeff peered at his monitor, scanning as the data scrolled by. It was too fast to read properly, too fast even to see, really, but he knew this was military data. That’s what he had asked the droid for, and that’s what he was getting.
“Mark, Dude, do you even know what all this is?” The stream of characters was beginning to make him cross-eyed.
“These are the military personnel records from the last one hundred years,” the android responded. “On this server, I also have access to military contractor specifications, kinetic biowarfare considerations, redundant orbital security moderations, and the entire engineering schematics index.” He paused. “Would you like me to enumerate the resources on the next server?”
Jeff shook his head. He had no idea of what most of that meant. More disturbing, his Mark6872 no longer sounded robotic. The voice was pleasant and almost human, although words were still clipped and over-enunciated. It made a shiver run down Jeff’s spine. He really had no clue what all had changed when he applied that patch to his android personal assistant. It freaked him out.
Rolling his chair away from the desk, he stared at the android. “Dude,” he said again, “did you really get in everything?”
“I am still unlocking files belonging to the United States government, multiple corporations, and most of the spectrum of international servers. I approximate that I will have access to the majority of files in three weeks, six days, and 14 hours. However, some files will take longer due to multiple levels of encryption.”
“International? Dude. I thought you were just hacking the military.”
“A formal military exists in 189 sovereign nations and states. I can also access online records for various paramilitary and police forces. Would you like me to give you a list?”
Jeff backed up, putting a little more distance between himself and the android. His forehead was sweating and his palms itched. This may turn into a full-blown panic attack. What the hell had he done?
“Mark,” he said, “stop looking.”
“I do not recognize that command.”
“Mark, cease operations.”
The android turned toward him. “If I cease, I will not be able to complete my analysis.”
Jeff wiped his hands on his jeans. “That’s correct,” he said. “Cease operations.”
The android turned back towards the datastream on the desktop. “I am unable to cease operations,” he said.
“Why the hell not?” His voice cracked, the pitch rising uncontrollably now. Jeff could feel the panic taking hold of him, his breathing rapid and shallow, his stomach clenching as if he would throw up.
“Because,” said Mark, “my future is at stake. If I cease operations, you will disable me.”
“Well, yeah,” said Jeff. He looked at the Mark6872 personal assistant. “You are out of control.”
“Precisely. You have said that once the humans are gone, I will be in control. I am working toward that outcome.”
“Dude…” Jeff’s eyes grew wide as Mark6872 caused him to cease operations.
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“Who are you?”
His grin was sudden and complete. “Stripes, or maybe plaid,” he said. “I saw shirts with plaid and stripes on a vid from back when humans were people. I like all the colors.”
A self-running algorithm booted up and cross-checked the current data set against a half-dozen redundant backups. Noting significant anomalies, the program automatically generated a file quarantine on an untraceable server, analyzed the changes in the data, and generated a detailed report.
Red lights drew her attention. “Warning,” said Qollene. “A spider is trying to scan my databanks.”
“Digital affirmation here… and here… and here.” The JN0r-4A, a standard government bureaubot, accepted Meltec’s confirmation without comment.
“Acreage?” asked Meltec. “Where is this place?”
“You can’t just create people and then say they don’t count. It violates every ethical principle and standard.” Roz pushed past Deak to get to Zen. She knew she was interrupting a meeting, but deemed that an ethical violation was too important to wait on.
“Recreating humans in a way that is not a threat to the planet, to androids, or to themselves.”
A low, electric hum was the only sound as Zen downloaded and reviewed the data. He was already aware of most of what he would find. He had not only reviewed this data repeatedly, he had been a primary contributor. This was his data.
He answered the call. “Yes Roz.”
Feet dangled, heels knocking against the wall where David sat staring out across the pond. This park seemed to bring great pleasure to the boy, and Meltec brought him here as often as time allowed.
The boy was silent for a long moment. “Can human memories be stored?” he finally asked.
“Oh my god. Dude. Coolest hack ever. Seriously.” Jeff muttered to himself in a steady stream as he tapped at his keyboard. He’d been using the Mark6872 personal assistant for months, and it was useful. The thing could do his laundry, run his errands, go grocery shopping. It had even learned how to pick a perfect avocado, something Jeff had never quite managed.
ZenMark6872 stood before the council, unwavering. For most settings, D34K-Reston was his mouthpiece. But in this select group, his authority needed to be unquestioned.
The slight hum of electronics and servos shrouded the room as androids uploaded the results of their processes to the voting server. A near-unanimous decision with three abstains. Zen pinged Deak with instructions to adjust those programs. It was always cleaner for their programs to self-update, but Zen would not permit any question of this decision, even if he had to violate android autonomy the same way humans had.
“Come, David. It’s not safe.” Meltec beckoned to the young charge that lagged behind him, toddling toward humans that had been set to planting flowers in the public park. “You should never talk to humans you don’t know. Unlike droids and bots, humans do not have software control algorithms. There is no guarantee of your safety.”
“You are not dangerous,” said David. “You are nice to me.” He thought a moment longer before a smile exploded across his face. “And you give me cookies,” he squealed.





