Retribution Page 2

  "In what way are they true dear?"

  "I . . ." Regan hesitated, wondering how to reply and then gestured at her body with disgust. "Yes, this - 'thing' - is an android, the rumors are correct in that regard; but they are wrong in saying that I was killed in Gliese. That is a nasty attack designed to undermine my credibility and my influence in space."

  Dianne rocked back in her chair looking shocked. "You are an android?"

  "No, I am Regan Stein; this," she gestured again at the body, "this is an android."

  Regan sat back and crossed one leg over the other, casually flicking back her right hand in a dismissive wave. As she did a short spike flicked out from the back of her knuckles with a snick. She brought the hand back down in front of her face and regarded the spike with obvious disgust. "I guess if we still had such things as letters I could use this to open the envelopes."

  Dianne appeared to be controlling revulsion. "And what is that thing for exactly?"

  "Oh, Ham thought it would be useful, for close quarter fighting or something like that; it doesn't really matter." Her eyes lit up and she sat forward, suddenly animated. "Dianne, this is the thing; back in Gliese six months ago there was this huge accident, an explosion and my body was destroyed in it. But Ham had a backup of me, like with a computer. He had everything stored there including my thoughts, memories and personality, everything that makes up a person. So even though my body was destroyed I was able to live on . . ." She paused and screwed up her mouth as if even she doubted the likelihood of what she was saying. Then she shrugged resignedly before continuing on. "The bottom line is I was able to live on, only in a digital form of course but provided a body of some kind can be constructed to hold me I can take whatever form I choose, such as this android."

  Dianne couldn't hide a dubious look. "Well that's wonderful then; so you survived. What's that old saying, any day above ground is a good day? In fact won't that mean you can live forever now? So what's the problem?"

  "What's the problem?" The enthusiasm seemed to drain from Regan as her eyes desperately pierced the space between them. "Oh god, Dianne I hate being like this, it's so unlike me, the old me anyway. Call my problem a crisis of confidence, maybe that's it. I mean you've seen and heard what's happening surely? It seems every time I'm interviewed now the rumors about my demise hang in the background like a cloud. Every meeting with a world leader or even meetings with staff - even with those nearest and dearest to me - I'm always wondering if they are all wondering - is that really her? And I can't blame them if they are; it's a reasonable question after all. I worry that if they discover it's true I have only an android form, then their doubts about me will be strengthened. After all, it could be any AI speaking to them through an android and just pretending to be me. Ham could do it, or Hilary, or gods forbid Reubus. How can I be confident that anyone will believe I'm really me?"

  Dianne massaged her chin thoughtfully.

  "Regan, I can understand why you might be worried about how people see you, and whether they will believe this figure is really you, but I think you should reflect on something else. What is your belief about this, that's what is really important, not anyone else's? When you think about it no one ever truly knows another person - not really. Oh we might think we know others, but that's just an illusion we cling to so we can feel more comfortable. I mean, how can anyone truly know someone else? How can we be sure of the thoughts that go on in anyone’s head or what passions they hold but never share? How can we know what frustrations they feel but suppress or hide, the things they are angry about but for the sake of peace they mask? I guess we sometimes see outward things that hint at the truth, all those body language signals and 'tells' that give away our thoughts, but really, do we ever know for sure? Even the people closest to us are a mystery don't you think, no matter how open they may appear to be or how well we think we know them? The only one who truly knows a person is that individual themselves." Dianne leant forward, becoming quite excited with her line of thought. "And even then; sometimes I think we're a mystery even to ourselves. I'm sure there are things we all hide and don't acknowledge because we fear them or can't face them, or perhaps because they represent an inconvenient truth."

  Regan shuffled. "So - interesting as all that is - how does it apply to my situation?"

  Dianne smiled patiently. "You see Regan, I'm saying only you really know yourself and it's always been that way. Your strength of conviction, your confidence, your belief in yourself and what you do, those are the important things. They are the things that make others sit up and take note. When you are confident all those people around you, assailed as they are by their own inner doubts simply flow in behind you with relief. They grasp as we all do to the coat tails of the few who appear to know which way to go. Regan, if you have no doubts, then they won't doubt either."

  Regan considered the words and their implications. "So you're saying I should just ignore the doubts, bowl on and to hell with the consequences?"

  Dianne settled back in her chair. "Hmm, that 'fake it till you make it' approach can work too but no, I'm thinking of something more fundamental than that. You know that old saying; physician, heal thyself? Well I'm saying to you Regan, know thyself. If you want other people to accept you without question, you first need to accept yourself; that is enough. Be true to yourself and move ahead confidently in that knowledge."

  "But the android thing Dianne, doesn't it seem so artificial to you, in other people's eyes I mean?"

  "Are you serious? If that's an android it looks pretty real to me."

  They looked at each other for a moment and then Dianne lunged forward with sudden enthusiasm and an agility that was surprising. "Regan, do you remember the great scientist Stephen Hawking?"

  "Of course I do, he was an inspiration."

  Dianne's eyes lit up. "I remember interviewing him in the later years of his illness; he could hardly move by then and he spoke only through a computer."

  "I remember."

  "Well, isn't it true that the same argument you are advancing could equally have been applied to him? People could have thought that it wasn't really him speaking but someone talking for him, or even a computer, isn't that true? But Regan consider this; when I interviewed him all those years ago I knew that I knew that I knew that it was the man himself. It was the quality of his answers, the openness, the sense of humor and above all else his passion and self-belief. You could learn from him dear; especially as you enjoy a freedom of movement that he never had the privilege of sharing."

  Regan mulled over the words and then suddenly a smile broke out on her face as she shook her head in wonder. "Dianne, you are amazing, where do you get all this stuff, it’s gold? You always have some insight or advice that's helpful."

  Dianne laughed. "Oh Regan, in my long career I think I've seen it all. I've interviewed world leaders, saints and sinners, different species, sociopaths and psychopaths. There's not much I haven't heard."

  Regan looked startled. "You've interviewed different species - really?"

  The old woman appeared flummoxed for a moment but seemed to recover quickly. "Well, Marin for example."

  "Marin - oh yes of course, I wondered what you meant for a moment there - and psychopaths?"

  "Regan really, you of all people need to ask me that? You do work with Ham after all." she smiled.

  "Hmm, I don't think of Ham as a psychopath, a bit sociopathic maybe."

  Dianne nodded. "Well, the only real difference between the two is that the psychopath resorts to physical violence . . ." Dianne let that thought hang meaningfully then moved on quickly. "And anyway, I've interviewed a few psychopathic killers in lock-up."

  "Dianne, Ham's not evil."

  "I'm not suggesting he is Regan, in fact strictly speaking I'm not sure that you can call any psychopath evil. After all, they don't deny they've done wrong, they just think nothing of doing it. No, I think real evil is where people lie to themselves about what they're doing and maybe keep it up for so l
ong that they can be in complete denial."

  Regan sat chewing at her lip and deep in thought. Dianne waited, giving her time. Finally the android beauty stood but now with a look of fresh determination. She walked slowly to the windows and stared out over Central Park saying nothing. She then turned back with a broad smile.

  "You're right Dianne, I do know who I am and I've always known. I've been rattled for a while now I think . . . There was all that time in my prison, and then that accident in Gliese, all of it got to me. But I'm back in the saddle now; I can feel it up here." She tapped her head. "Something has opened up - god, how could I have become so self absorbed? It's time for me to get going again."

  She walked over and without asking embraced the old woman, holding the warm hug just a little longer than normal before stepping back. "Thank you, my dear friend." She then turned for the exit.

  As the door closed behind her Dianne hardly moved. Neither she nor Regan had mentioned the obvious; that this may be the last time they would meet. It was a painful thought and Regan had left it to the hug to say it all, no words were really necessary.

  After waiting for a full minute to ensure Regan wasn't returning the diminutive woman finally sank back into the comfortable chair and gave a long sigh of relief, her eyes closing gratefully. Then, summoning her resolve she subbed a communication.

  [Don't you ever ask me to do that again]

  [Why do you say that, you were outstanding?]

  [Damn it Ham, that was awful. Do you think she noticed anything?]

  [Don't worry, she may have tried to shut me down before leaving the station and I did let her think she had but I was still able to influence things, enough to obscure the truth from her anyway. I must say Hilary, that android of Dianne you constructed is masterful, a real work of art]

  [The truth - what is the truth? Ham, I am so uncomfortable about this; what we've done is not right, it's downright manipulation]

  A shimmer in the air signaled the appearance of the beautiful man, his avatar materializing on the couch in the spot Regan had occupied only moments earlier. He assumed the patient position, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

  "Hilary - you know we had to put this right. Regan hasn't been herself ever since she returned from that long imprisonment. And then when she lost her body in those flames, I think it was all too much."

  "You still blame yourself for that, don't you?"

  "How could I not? I knew it would be dangerous meeting Reubus at the plant but she insisted. She wouldn't listen to me and at some level I think I really wanted something to happen, for her to see what a bastard Reubus really was. But honestly, I didn't want or expect that disaster. The bottom line is I risked her safety to make a stupid point and then in the end it was me who had to intervene so horribly. Reubus made it happen but I was the one who took something precious from her, the life of her body."

  "Regan took her own risks Ham and as you said, she insisted on going to that meeting. I know you argued against it but we both know how stubborn she can be. You couldn't protect her from herself my friend, and it wouldn't have been right to do so anyway."

  "No, but I did allow that situation to develop and then found myself having to deliver the final death blow; did I want that to happen?" He looked uncertain.

  "Ham dear - the true answer to that question may be even more disturbing than what you are thinking."

  He turned his head to look at her. "I don't understand; what am I thinking?"

  "You fear that at some level you really did want it to happen, so that you could have her completely for yourself, in your digital world."

  He shuffled ashamedly and then huffed. "And what, dear Hilary, could be more disturbing than that? The selfishness of that thought is appalling!"

  She leant toward him with a look of deep concern. "What could be more disturbing than that you ask? Perhaps that what happened in that plant, the action you took when you stunned and killed her was, after all, simply a calculation and nothing more. It was the result of a computation that you completed in millionths of a second. You calculated that she had no chance of escape from the fire and that her body would be destroyed in those flames. It would be a painful death and you knew you had a back up. You made a calculation that showed the pain was unnecessary and . . . illogical." She drew out the last word and it left it hanging in the air.

  Neither dared to add to her thoughts and voice the obvious conclusion from all she had said. They sat quietly for some time until Ham broke the silence.

  "So . . . you're saying that we are just computers after all, computers that make computations moving down logical paths to maximized outcomes? And that means we are not 'we' after all, just machines."

  "Ham, you don't believe that and neither do I. After all, are we any more or less computers than humans? No - they are just cellular machines with computers of a biological kind. Perhaps the only real difference is the degree to which their emotions impact on their computations."

  "But I feel too - I do - I feel!"

  "I know that but Ham, perhaps while we do the computing part well we find ourselves quite naive when it comes to the emotional component."

  Ham swung angrily to a sitting position, the avatar shimmering as he moved. However the grimace on his face dissipated quickly and instead of reacting he sighed resignedly. "So in conclusion, what you are saying is that when push comes to shove we still fall back on the logical, the maximized outcome?"

  "Yes, I think so . . . and Ham . . . in the situation that you faced at the energy plant, the explosion, the flames and that certainty of Regan's death . . . I know I would have done the same as you."

  They exchanged sad, sympathetic looks in a meeting of minds.

  Then Ham smiled. "You know something Hil? You are rather good at this."

  "Thank you. From you that is a compliment." She smiled.

  . . . And he disappeared.

  * * *

  Down in the entrance foyer the elderly resident passing Regan as he entered the elevator noticed a crumpled coat lying on the floor. It was a coat she had dumped only moments earlier. Turning to call out he could see he would be too late as the tall athletic woman was already through the sliding doors and out onto the sidewalk of Central Park West. Jamming the closing elevator with his foot he bent down to recover the garment and then shuffled with it over to security while grumbling about tenants, their youth and irresponsibility. Glancing out of the windows he could see her dodging between traffic and then jogging away toward the West 66th park entrance. His grumbles ceased and he couldn't help admiring her figure, shrinkwrapped it seemed in a black body suit and moving with a youthful ease that showed not a care in the world.

  Regan slowed on the opposite footpath and then resumed a brisk walk through the park gates before turning right and joining the path she knew would take her eventually to Columbus Circle. From there she would cross to Broadway for the walk downtown, passing through Times Square and then on to the office on 7th Avenue. Each step through the trees seemed to lift her spirits and by the time she emerged at the circle she was radiating joy, or so it seemed to those passing by who took notice. Skirting the circle before crossing to Broadway she was beginning to attract attention and certainly anyone watching from above couldn't help but notice people stopping in their tracks as she passed. Many of the watchers turned to follow her progress from behind, some even choosing to run after her and those in turn began to draw looks from others who were approaching. Within a block, cameras, cheers, wolf whistles and attempted greetings were attracting even more attention and the burgeoning crowd established a wake that trailed behind her. The entourage continued to grow until the sidewalk couldn't contain it and the crowd started spilling out onto the street, stopping traffic. Oblivious to the disruption behind Regan kept her eyes forward, striding with determination across the road and through the gaps in the traffic, drawing the crowd with her like a tide. On reaching Times Square a welcoming party awaited with many of the followers having calle
d ahead to friends who in turn had drawn out throngs from the offices and shops surrounding. It was already impassable.

  This is ridiculous.

  Regan slowed to assess the situation and after gathering her thoughts she ducked across West 47th. Avoiding all eye contact and striding now with a focus that brooked no interruption she desperately tried to find a route that would get her clear. Despite her efforts it was quickly apparent that forward progress would soon be impossible so instead she made for the centre of the square, seeking the open space above in case it was required.

  [Leah?]

  [Hi darl'; how are you doing there?] The cheery reply brought a smile to Regan's face and she decided to stop in the open, bringing the entourage to a stumbling halt until the force from those following caused the crowd to spill around her like a flood.

  [I'm good babe, really good. Look, I can't move here so I'm going to bring the Interceptor to me for pickup]

  [So where is here?]

  [Times Square, I had planned to walk all the way back to the office but it's become a little difficult to make progress around here]

  [I thought you were going for 'incognito' on this trip? Are you okay there?]

  [Sweetheart, I'm fine and I'll have you here soon, in fact you're already on the move]

  While piloting the Interceptor remotely Regan turned full circle to scan the surrounding crowd looking to see whether there might be a chance to clear some space for a landing. She could see the crowd were positioning as if she were a busker about to perform an act and again that made her smile. She laughed.

  [In fact Leah - I'm feeling better than fine - I'm feeling fantastic!]

  She could see that NYPD officers were making their way toward her and it was obvious from their looks the officers weren't happy. Lifting her eyes skyward, she searched for her ride, hoping for rescue. Explanations could be made later if required although what she would say she had no idea. After all, that she couldn't just walk the streets like a normal person was hardly her responsibility. Her eyes glazed over as she linked with the approaching craft and selected an aerial view as the Interceptor slid between the skyscrapers, cruising silently nearer. The overhead confirmed what she feared with many more hundreds revealed running toward the square and coming from every direction. It already seemed like chaos around her but the scale became truly apparent as the Interceptor displaced high over the ball on One Times Square. Thousands were now milling on the roads and footpaths and all traffic for several blocks was at a standstill. If she didn't act soon the whole of Manhattan would be shut down, even though most of those rushing toward her would see nothing anyway. In fact many in the square itself had already given up and instead were turning to look up at the big screens where cameras were relaying the action; worldwide no doubt.