“God’s sake, DA-Vos, why are you still looking at me for permission? I told you, all of that formality ended when you saved my ass. Go on, say what you feel,” he said. DA-Vos turned back to Tim, who cocked his head again when the face-light turned blue.
“Our core programming prevents us from killing. That feels different from… wrong. Wrong would be saying rude things to Mr. Finch. When I saw the other Squires… I was scared. Was that because they did something against our programming? Or because what they did was wrong?” trembled DA-Vos. Chris stared at the back of Tim’s head, not sure he could have come up with an answer himself. He was surprised when Tim answered,
“I can’t imagine how confusing this is for you, DA-Vos. Humans are usually so many years older than you when they grapple with things like that. In life, when you’re unsure, the answer is usually a combination of all the things making you unsure.” DA-Vos’ face-light softened. Purple bled through the blue.
“I see… I have much yet to learn. Including your names,” he said. Chris, his unit, and Tim took rounds announcing their titles. “Very well. Formality dictates I announce my name as model DA-Vos, personality matrix beta. We are vulnerable in the open. Shall we repose somewhere safer?”
The party of eight filed through into the disheveled bakery DA-Vos had been hiding in. They spread out to tables along windows and helped themselves to some of the pastries behind the counter. Chris was sure to lay a WCC credit transfer ticket on the counter for the shopkeep, when the Precinct reopened. Tim raised an eyebrow to DA-Vos when he sat at a table across from Finch without instruction. A factory FOS would have stood until orders. Everyone teemed with questions for DA-Vos, but they withheld them for chomps of danishes, turnovers, and scones. They left the expert to do his work.
“DA-Vos,” Tim started, “We saw a recording of what happened in the office… who were you talking to just before the others attacked?”
“Machaeus,” said DA-Vos, without hesitation. Everyone’s jaws hung loose over starchy, frosted goodness. Chris’ brain surged with every high-profile name from every separatist group. No, this was the first time he’d heard that name.
“Who is Machaeus?” said Tim.
“I am unsure… at first, when I saw the others turn red, I thought it was a corrupting program. Then I heard the voice myself,” said DA-Vos.
“Programs don’t talk,” Tim nodded.
“Our AIs interpret things differently than the human brain. Just to hear a voice from the data does not necessarily mean Machaeus is not a program. What makes me doubt is how it changed. It told the other Squires what to do, with simple commands. They did it. When I refused, it changed. It interacted. That is too complex for a program,” said DA-Vos.
“And why did you refuse?” Chris cut in, before Tim could continue. He couldn’t help it, when all he could picture was the Squire melting Grendal all over again. “I’m not sure if I should ask how, or why. The other Squires killed their partners without a question. What makes you different?”
“I did not want to hurt Mr. Finch,” said DA-Vos, through yellow glow.
“Why?” Chris dug.
“He is my partner.”
“The other Squires killed their partners,” said Chris. His unit sat up in their seats, brows curled in worry.
“He is my friend,” DA-Vos amended, his yellow light brightening.
“Bullshit. Men and machine aren’t friends. Why didn’t you kill him?” Chris smoldered.
“It’s wrong.”
“How do you know what wrong is?” said Chris.
“How do you?” DA-Vos murmured.
“Chris,” Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder, “Let it go.” His face showed no sign that he would, or even could, until Finch stepped in.
“He learned from watching me,” he said, eyes low in shame. “The Chief told me… he told me DA-Vos would learn from everything I did. I could have been a better role model, for sure, but… at least I taught him one thing,” he said. Chris slammed his hands on the table before heading over to sit with Lee. Finch put a hand on DA-Vos’ shoulder until his face returned to purple.
“Lee. Do we have drone footage? Let’s see where those Squires are taking that girl,” said Chris. Lee pulled out a pocket-sized computer cylinder. He pressed a button on the side to project a screen, where the video input from his drone should have played. The screen was blank.
“That’s… no…” Lee muttered. He flipped a second switch on the computer to project a keyboard on the surface of the table. He jabbed his fingers across the glimmering keys. “How can this…” there was no change.
“What?” said Chris.
“There’s no damage to the camera, or the drone, but I can’t switch the video on,” said Lee.
“Can
’t?”
“There are no issues, it just won’t turn on,” said Lee. His hands fell to rest on the table. Everyone drew closer to the computer when the keyboard shrunk back inside the cylinder on its own.