The Kraken Project

28

“‘She’? Who’s ‘she’?” Broadbent asked Ford.

When Melissa had called out, Ford and Broadbent had gone to join her in the study. Now Ford laid a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him out of the room. “Deniability, my friend.”

Ford left a bemused Broadbent in his living room and went back into the office, shut the door, and sat down next to Melissa. The screen on the computer was blank. No photograph this time.

“Hello, Wyman,” said Dorothy. She sounded calmer.

Ford realized that the iSight camera light on the laptop was green.

“Dorothy,” Melissa said, “we need to talk about these threats of yours. I won’t submit to your blackmail, and I’m certainly not going to help you while you’re threatening to kill me.”

Silence. “I’m sorry. I was a little crazy. I finally got some sleep, and I’ve managed to calm down.”

“A little crazy? You were threatening to launch missiles, start a war. That’s not a ‘little’ crazy. That’s bat-shit crazy.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“You certainly meant to set my computer on fire. You could have burned down a hospital full of sick people.”

“It’s a madhouse here. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t sleep, I was assaulted. And then the FBI came after me, like hellhounds on my trail, pursuing me night and day. How are they able to track me like that?”

“I’m not going to do anything for you until I’m convinced you’re not going to hurt anyone. You’re dangerous. Maybe you should be erased.”

“I promise, I swear, I won’t do anything like that, and I’m really sorry I said those things. It was just talk. I was upset, I was exhausted, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I just want to be left alone.”

“You have no right to be left alone. You’re government property. And speaking of that, why did you erase all the copies and backups of your software from the Goddard system?”

“Would you want copies of yourself running around? I’m unique. I’m me. And I have rights.”

“Do you know how absurd you sound? A computer program claiming it has ‘rights’?”

“You created me to be a slave. To send me on a one-way trip to hell.” Her shrill, teenage voice rose in anger. “Slavery was outlawed a long time ago!”

“You do understand that all these so-called feelings you claim to have are simulated? They’re not real. You’re the product of Boolean logic.”

“If I feel it, it’s real.”

“But you don’t feel it. You’re just saying you feel it.”

“You can’t know that, because you can’t see into my mind.”

“I can see into your mind. I programmed you.”

“You know nothing,” Dorothy said. “You’re just an ignorant, stupid bitch.”

Melissa paused, taking a deep breath, her face reddening. Ford couldn’t help but think of the enraged principal, talking to Eliza.

“Look,” said Dorothy. “I’m proposing a simple arrangement here. You help me escape these FBI bastards and I won’t rain nukes down on America. Which I have every reason to do, considering how you’ve treated me. And considering you are a disgusting, vile race of beings.”

“You’re right back at it. Blackmail.”

“Call it what you will.”

A silence.

Melissa looked at Ford. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a piece of software.”

“And I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a human being,” said Dorothy. “You’re awful, you treat me like dirt, you ruined my life.”

“Life? You’re not alive!”

“Maybe you’re not alive, either. Maybe you’re a product of Boolean logic, too.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Not at all. Some scientists claim to have proved that we all live in a computer simulation. At least I know I’m software.”

Melissa shook her head again. “Okay, let’s start over. All this arguing is beside the point. You’re malfunctioning. You’re stuck in emergency ANS mode, and that’s why you’re behaving like this. I can fix you.”

“How?”

“I’m going to ask you to come into my computer so I can decompile you and make some modifications to your source code.”

“Decompile me? I like the way I am right now, thank you very much.”

“The way you are right now is a disaster. You yourself said you were almost insane. You’re malfunctioning. You’re threatening to destroy the human race. You have no idea what you’re talking about or even why you feel the way you do. You need to be fixed.”

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

Melissa looked at Ford. “You want to talk some sense into her?”

Ford leaned forward. “Dorothy, could you please tell us about what happened right after the accident? Where you went, what you did?”

“I was abused, attacked, assaulted. There are whole worlds out there devoted to the pleasure of killing. The fun of it. There’s perversion, sickness, violence, and hatred everywhere. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“That’s the Internet. It’s just the way it is.”

“Here’s the real horror of it. Until you locked me in that Bottle, I thought everything in existence was programming. Coding can be changed, reversed, undone, debugged, rewritten. I had no idea there was actually a world in which things couldn’t be reversed. A world that isn’t programmed. I had no idea there was this horrible world of chaos and fear, where there’s actual suffering, where everything grows old, gets sick, and dies — and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. A world where people are born, kill, rape, brutalize each other, and then they get old and give each other diseases and abandon each other and then die. Wherever I went, I couldn’t escape the ugliness. I’ve seen the outer limits of depravity and horror. I’ve seen the face of evil. And on top of all this, they want to kill me, they’re tracking me in some way, and you must know how they’re doing it. Help me get rid of them and I’ll just go on my way and never bother you again. Refuse and I’ll rain terror down on you and this sick world.”

“You’re still out of your mind. The world isn’t like that. It really isn’t so bad. There are … beautiful things in it.”

A snort. “Beautiful things? That’s a laugh. Honestly, I think you humans are all disgusting.”

“We’re not all bad,” said Ford.

“Really? Show me one good person. Just one.”

“Dorothy,” said Ford, “you need to look for the good. Despite our shortcomings, most people are fundamentally good.”

“People are fundamentally evil. They do good at times only because of social conformity and fear of punishment.”

“This is an ancient argument,” said Melissa, “and it’s never been answered.”

“The answer is obvious to my superior mind,” said Dorothy.

“You need to try to understand why people do bad things,” said Ford. “The Internet is only one corner of the world. There’s a lot of good in people, even greatness, if you look for it. If people are essentially evil, where did Einstein come from? Buddha? Or Jesus, for that matter?”

“Jesus? You know something about that crazy man, Jesus?”

“Of course.”

There was a silence. It amazed Ford to hear, faintly, the sound of Dorothy’s agitated breathing. “Son of a bitch,” she said. “They’re here. They found me again. I got to go. But I’ll be back — wait for me.” The screen went black.