The Phoenix Code (3 page)

"We had a difference of opinion," Diane said.

Alfred took a swallow of coffee. "Marlow wanted to program subservience into the RS units. He feared that if we didn't, they might turn against us."

"It's a valid concern," Megan said. She wondered, though, if that had led to the tragedy with the RS-3. "But it may be moot. We're combining ourselves with our creations as fast as we can make the results viable and safe for humans. If we become them and they become us, the issue fades away."

The others exchanged glances. Then Miska said, "You are much different from Marlow."

"He hated the idea of taking technology into ourselves," Diane said. "Or of putting our minds into robots."

"Would you turn down a pacemaker that could save your life?" Megan leaned forward. "An artificial limb that would let you walk again? We're creating the means to make ourselves smarter, stronger, faster, longer lived."

"In the ideal," Claire said. "Whether or not we achieve it remains to be seen."

"Our hope," Tony said, "is to explore the full potential of humanlike robots."

"Including peaceful applications?" Megan asked. It was one of her main concerns. She understood the need for defense work, but she wanted to know that the fruits of her intellect would also go toward improving the human condition.

"Of course," Tony said. "We're committed to both."

Megan sat for a moment, thinking. "From what you've told me, it sounds like you all have very specialized areas of expertise."

No one seemed surprised by her comment. Alfred answered. "Miska, Diane, and I are the support. Claire consults on the AI aspects."

They struck Megan as a good team. However, they were missing an important component—the hardware equivalent to Claire. "Who is your robotics expert?"

"Well, yes, that's the rub," Alfred said.

"It's a top priority," Tony interjected smoothly. "If you accept the position, we'll have a slate of superb candidates for you to consider."

"In other words," Megan said, "you don't have anyone."

"We're taking the time to find the best," Tony assured her. "We almost had a fellow from Jazari International in Morocco, but JI came through with a counteroffer and he decided to stay."

She wasn't surprised they had checked out JI. The company had risen to international prominence over the past two decades. She had met Rashid al-Jazari, the CEO, several times. His American wife, Lucia del Mar, performed with the Martelli Dance Theatre, so they and their three children lived part of the year in the United States, and Rashid sometimes visited MIT. He was a charming man, but he didn't strike her as the type to let MindSim woo away his employees.

She thought back to her talk with Raj. "How about Chandrarajan Sundaram?"

"We're trying," Claire said. "But we aren't the only ones. Apparently Arizonix also wants him."

Tony's smile morphed into a frown. He said only, "Arizonix," but he managed to put boundless distaste into that one word.

"Are you sure you'd want Sundaram?" Claire asked her. "He has a reputation for being rather difficult."

Alfred snorted. "He's a nut."

"I rather like him," Megan said.

"You've
met
him?" Diane looked impressed.

"We talked at the IRTAC meeting. It was interesting."

"I'll bet." Claire sipped her coffee, then blanched and set her mug down with the care one used when handling explosives.

Curious, Megan tried the brew. It went down like a jolt of TNT and detonated when it hit bottom. "Hey. This is good."

Alfred gave a hearty laugh. "A truly refined taste." Claire and Miska turned a bit green.

They spent the next hour showing her details of their work. She made no promises, playing it cool.

But she was ready to jump.
 

The hovercar skimmed across the Nevada desert like a ship sailing an ocher sea, the rumble of its turbofan evoking images of growling sea monsters. Sitting in the front passenger seat, Megan gazed out at a land mottled with gray-green bushes. The road they were following arrowed to the horizon, dwindling to a point in the distance.

Since passing the security check several miles back, they had seen no cars, buildings, or rest stops. The isolation unsettled her. As the new director of the Everest Project, this would be her home. She still had to wrap up her work at MIT and direct her graduate students, but she could do most of that from here, using the Web and virtual reality conferences.

She glanced at Alfred in the driver's seat. Most of the Everest team would still work in California; with the satellite link, communication would be easy, and she could use robots for lab technicians. If this had been just a development project, she would probably have stayed at MindSim with the team. But for such intensive research, she needed to interact with the android. Alfred, Diane, and Miska had come out to introduce her. A second car followed, bringing Major Richard Kenrock, their contact at the Department of Defense, and a lieutenant who served as his assistant.

The car turned off the road, its turbine providing thrust and vectored steering. It hovered across the desert on its cushion of air, rocking a bit from the bumpy terrain. Soon it slowed to a stop and settled to the ground, its landing motor grumbling in a deep baritone that contrasted to the tenor of the turbofan. No hint showed that they had arrived anywhere; nothing but gravelly land and spiky plants stretched in every direction. The second car settled next to them, with Richard Kenrock in the driver's seat. The major's wave looked like a salute.

Alfred peered at a screen on the dash. "Okay. This is it. Backspace, take us down."

Backspace, the car's computer, spoke in a mellow voice. "Fingerprint code, please."

Alfred touched the screen. In the other car, Major Kenrock was doing the same. With no ado and almost no sound, the land under them sank into the desert. It reminded Megan of cartoons from her childhood, where a trapdoor opened beneath unsuspecting characters and they dropped out of sight with their long ears streaming above them. This went slower, of course, lowering them into a freight elevator enclosed by a sturdy wire mesh. As the elevator descended, she craned her head to look up. A holographic camouflage hid the opening above them, making the ground appear unbroken.

Looking down through the elevator's mesh, she saw a garage below. Lamps lit the area, activated by the car's computer. Several vehicles crouched there: dark humvees with angular bodies. When the elevator reached the floor, the mesh opened like a gate. After they drove out, the gate closed and the elevator began to rise.

Megan indicated the humvees. "Those look like giant stealth cockroaches."

Alfred gave one of his hearty, infectious laughs. "I guess you could say the place is bugged."

They left their cars next to the vehicular cockroaches and walked through the cool spaces of the garage. Its stark functionality didn't reassure Megan. She would be living here for some time. Her doubts eased when they entered a pleasant hall with ivory walls and a blue carpet. A robot was waiting for them, what MindSim called a Lab Partner. It stood about six feet tall, with a tubular body, treads for feet, a rounded head, and an assortment of detachable arms. The nameplate on its chest said "Trackman."

"Welcome to NEV-5," Trackman rumbled. "I hope you had a good trip."

"Just fine." Megan peered at the LP. Twenty of these ambulatory assistants staffed NEV-5. Using their rudimentary AI brains, they could manage the day-to-day operations. Automated systems here and at MindSim monitored the base in case anything unusual came up. In theory, NEV-5 could operate without a human presence, but MindSim preferred to have at least one person in residence.

NEV-5 was about the size of a football field, with three levels. The garage, power room, and maintenance areas were here on Level One. Living areas were one floor down, on Level Two, and the labs filled Level Three. Trackman escorted them to the elevators and Megan walked at his side, wondering how far his capabilities extended beyond managing the base.

"Do you enjoy working at NEV-5?" she asked.

"Enjoyment isn't one of my design parameters," he said.

That didn't sound promising. "Can you define 'enjoyment'?"

"Amusement. Entertainment. Pleasure. Recreation. Zest." Then he added, "Those are in alphabetical order."

Megan smiled. "Would you like to experience amusement? Pleasure? Zest?" In alphabetical order, no less.

"I have no need to do so."

Oh, well. If Trackman was the best that NEV-5 had to offer for company, aside from a barely functional android, she was going to be on the phone or Internet a lot. If the loneliness became too much, she could reprogram Trackman to converse better. It was a poor substitute for human fellowship, though, not to mention a waste of the LP's resources.

Up ahead, a droid rolled around the corner. About the size and shape of a cat, its "legs" were tubes that sucked in dust and dirt. As it came up to them, Megan crouched down and touched its back. It stopped with a jerk. She poked it again, and the droid scuttled away. When she reached out and tapped its leg, it made an agitated buzzing.

"I won't hurt you," Megan murmured. She stood and walked around the droid. It waved its tail, trying to determine if the bedevilment was going to continue. When she nudged it from behind, it moved forward and sidled past the other humans that had invaded its territory. Then it whirred away down the hall.

"That was a shy one," she said, smiling.

"Cleaning droids have no capacity for shyness," Trackman told her. "It has less efficient methods than an LP for mapping its environment. You were blocking its path."

Megan sighed. "Thank you, Trackman."

"You are welcome." If it detected her irony, it gave no indication.

They started off again, Alfred walking on the other side of the LP. "Trackman," he asked, "did Marlow Hastin's family live here with him?"

"No," Trackman said. "His wife visited sometimes."

From behind them, Major Kenrock said, "I don't think his kids had the clearance."

Megan wondered if the isolation had bothered Hastin. She doubted she could have endured being separated from her family. She probably would have brought them to a nearby city and commuted. Being single made matters simpler, but she would miss having company. As far as work went, she would have preferred to have the Everest team here rather than in California. However, they had their lives there. With the Internet and VR conferences available, it wasn't necessary for them all to be in the same physical location.

Trackman showed them the living areas in Level Two. The apartments were pleasant, with blue carpets, consoles, armchairs, Lumiflex tables, pullout sofas, and airbeds covered by downy comforters. Megan decided to take a room with ivory wallpaper patterned by roses and birds. She said nothing, though, self-conscious about choosing her personal space in front of other people.

Then they went to meet the android.
 

The RS-4 had "slept" during most of the past few weeks while the Everest team reassessed the project. The two LPs that looked after the android had activated him as soon as the MindSim group arrived on the base. When Megan entered the single-room apartment where he lived, her anticipation leapt. This was it.

He was sitting at a table. Even knowing what to expect, she froze in the doorway. He could have been a boyish Arick Bjornsson. With his rugged Nordic features and blue eyes, he resembled a Viking more than a scientist. Bjornsson had consulted on the project several years ago, and he and several others had donated their DNA to the genetic bank.

The Everest engineers had grown parts of the android from Bjornsson's DNA, including his skin and some internal organs, but he was still a construct. A microfusion reactor powered him. Bellows inflated his lungs. Synthetic pumps drove lubricant through conduits within his body. His "organs" would age over centuries rather than decades, and they would remain disease-free. They were also more efficient than their human counterparts.

The Everest Project had many goals. The grant that funded Megan's job involved the development of a super-soldier and special operations agent. To be effective as a covert operative, the android would have to pass as human. Her team had a lot of work to do; right now the android's "blood" was a silvery lubricant, an X ray would show many of his differences, and various other anomalies could reveal the truth.

They didn't want him
too
human, though. If they succeeded, he would have the power and memory of a computer, the creativity and self-awareness of a person, the training of a commando, continual perfect health, and the survival ability of a machine. Weapons could be incorporated into his body. He would be smarter, faster, stronger, and harder to kill than any human soldier.

In the long view MindSim had more dramatic hopes. If humans could augment or replace their bodies with android technology, they could achieve phenomenal abilities, and longer, healthier, more stable lives. The process had begun in the twentieth century: replacement joints, limbs, bones, and heart valves; synthetic arteries and veins; artificially grown organs. Combining their minds with computers might make them superintelligent. It was Megan's dream that someday a new, evolved humanity would see beyond the urge to war, violence, and the other ills that plagued their species. An idealistic dream, perhaps, but still hers. Such results were far in the future, if they were possible, but the Everest Project offered a preliminary step.

The android already
looked
human. He had Arick's yellow curls and regular features, but he wasn't an exact copy of Bjornsson. The Everest team had fine-tuned his appearance. Tall but not too tall, with boy-next-door good looks, he came across as pleasant and nonthreatening. Right now, he also looked blank—like a machine. RS-4. They called him Aris.

As Trackman brought Megan inside, the android watched them. Major Kenrock and his lieutenant stayed by the door with Alfred. Diane and Miska settled in armchairs, close enough to answer any questions Megan might have. An LP stood behind Aris like a guard, protecting its brother from this strange infestation of humans.