Citizenchip Page 13

  Rebecca grabs one of her braids in her hand – the one with the chip in it. Without taking her eyes off the gang of men, she sticks out her tongue and licks the chip, deliberately, defiantly.

  "Becca, ease off," I tell her. "Not helping."

  Kamir swivels to glare at me. "Oh, look who's giving orders now! I told you to shut up, chip!"

  The left spachelor on the stove hefts its knife slightly, lowering and changing the point angle. Targeting him accurately. She has to throw to kill.

  Knowing that there will probably be legal review of these circumstances, I choose my next words very carefully. "Master," I say evenly, "there are unauthorized intruders in the house, and they are refusing to leave. Do I have your permission to use force to remove them?"

  "Kick their asses, Sam!" Jerry sputters through the blood. "Hard!"

  "There, you heard it," I tell Kamir and his gang. "This conversation is being logged with provincial authorities. I have authorization to remove you from these premises. You are going to leave now. It would be much better if you do so voluntarily."

  Hong spits, "Oh, I've heard enough of this." He draws the shotgun down to aim at me. I see the dead black eye of the barrel's muzzle staring back at me, and the green ring around it. Behind that is his hand on the grip, finger knuckles whitening as it tightens on the trigger.

  I release my remote's computational throttles.

  system.UpClock(full_speed)

  I didn't want it to come to this, really I didn't. But with Jerry down, and Rebecca provoking the situation, and Leo and Knickers in a Twist about to attack, and me watching Hong's finger tightening on the trigger, I am pretty much out of options.

  If they had been thinking with their brains instead of their gonads, they would have used the shotgun on the family, and we'd have a hostage situation. But they didn't, and they're attacking me instead, which is exactly what I wanted.

  The shotgun fires with a deafening roar. But I'm not there anymore. I've jumped high to the left, and I'm turning in the air to meet the approaching wall with my paws, while I scan the room to plan what I'll do next.

  That shotgun is the first order of business, so my next jump takes me directly to Hong's right hand. I land just so, breaking the wrist that's holding the gun, and jump off so as to crimp the metal of the shotgun's receiver – making it unusable without an hour in a machine shop.

  Kamir looks like he's figured out the hostage angle. He's shifting his weight and raising one foot to rush towards the family. My next jump is towards him, and I rebound off his leg so as to kick his knee sideways, so it will fold when his weight comes down on it.

  From then on, it's a fairly simple matter of jumping from one guy to the other, chopping a wrist here, punching a stomach there. In the process, I make sure to kick each datathumb out of the hand holding it, with enough force to shatter it into plastic and silicon shrapnel. Which is as satisfying as I figured it would be.

  Once all the datathumbs are destroyed, and all the men disarmed of their crowbars and such, I turn to survey the results. Kamir is just now landing on that leg and starting to feel the knee crumple under his weight. Hong is starting to yell from the broken wrist. It looks like the immediate threats have been nullified, so I prepare to downclock and see what happens next. As a bit of theater, I settle in exactly the same place I was sitting when I started (now that the shotgun blast has passed it). I sit there and wrap my tail around my feet, and set my posture to look calm and composed.

  system.DownClock(human_standard_speed)

  The chorus of yelps and screams, as the men stagger and spill over each other and fall, is music to my ears. The sprays of shattered plastic and silicon from the datathumbs spatter over the walls and sift down to the floor. There is sudden silence.

  Jerry is shaking off Lily's hands and rising to his feet. He steps forward and plants one foot solidly on the shotgun. (He doesn't know I've already disabled it.) "That enough?" he snarls at them. "All done? Ready to go now? Or do you need more?"

  Rising, groaning, holding their various injured limbs, the men limp and shuffle towards the airlock. Except Hong. He's holding his arm, in obvious pain, but still glaring defiance.

  "Hong. Get out,” he warns. "Before I tell Samantha to rip your dick off and beat you to death with it."

  Hong's eyes slide over to me. It's gratifying to see him wondering if I can actually do that. I'm wondering the same thing myself … but I'm plenty ready to try it and see. I glare back at him, lashing my tail.

  Jerry growls, "The smaller your dick, the longer it'll take, see?"

  Hong, glaring like a blowtorch, takes one step forward. The stove's arms curl and whip elegantly. There is a sound of thipthip through the air and thunkthunk of knives into the wallboard on either side of Hong's head, three centimeters from his cheekbones on each side. And the stove's arms lift and flourish two more knives, raised like scorpion tails. How did Knickers in a Twist get those?

  "Hong!" barks Kamir. "Perspective. You just got your ass kicked by a cat. Let's go."

  Reluctantly, Hong turns and moves to the airlock with the rest of them, still glaring. Kamir limps over to join them on his injured leg, but points one finger back, with a determined look in his eye. "This isn't over, Jerry."

  Jerry grunts. "Yeah yeah. Scram."

  Leo cries "Yeah, scram!" standing forward and planting his bat like an avenger's sword.

  Airlock door closes, clank. Quiet. We all listen to the sound of the airlock cycling, muttering to itself, equalizing with outside pressure.

  "Secure," I announce. "They're out of the airlock and heading to their vehicle. I'm escorting them with the robocrabs and tractor – that's like forty tons of machinery. They won't be any more trouble."

  "Wahoo!" Rebecca screams a rebel yell. "Sam, that was awesome!" She scoops me up in her arms for a hug, and immediately drops me to the floor. "Ow ow!" she yelps. "Hot hot hot!"

  "Uh, sorry," I say, "still cooling down from all that overclocking."

  "Yeah, nice scorch mark you left on the floor there, Sam," mentions Leo, looking at the burned floorboards where I was sitting.

  "Ooh yeah, I'll have to fix that. And the holes in the walls –" I look around. About a dozen of them, all over the room walls, where my cat feet punched through the wallboard while I was jumping around. "I'll have to order some more wallboard and material tomorrow."

  "Leave the knives, though," Rebecca observes. "They're actually looking pretty cool up there."

  "Heh." Jerry is holding his nose, still trying to stop the last of the bleeding. "Sam, don't worry about it. That's an order."

  the candle

  Early morning, and Jerry shuffles to the kitchen, intent on the coffee maker. But then he looks to the living room and grunts, "Becca? Are you still up from last night?"

  Rebecca is still planted on the couch in front of the news feed, slouching down now but still watching, rapt, intent, expressionless. The flesh under her eyes is smudged with exhaustion. The chip is still in her hair, but hanging askew, as if clinging to life.

  The news feed is showing a map of Mars in its standard "orange peel" configuration, centered on the roughly east-west line between the Tharsis bulge and Hellas basin (where Schiaparelli is). The two power centers of Mars, with the humans down in the basin and the machines up on the heights. Until now. The map's many districts, like tiles over the world, are blinking one by one to a green color – which, the caption is pleased to inform us, means areas "free of wild software."

  It wasn't going too badly, really it wasn't. We had a good chance to calm things down after the destruction of Tharsis Central. But Pick Of The Litter's attack on Xanthe changed the whole situation. One Self willfully killing humans was all it took to generate a huge political backlash, driving the Senate to invoke emergency powers in special session and declare all Selves must be Leashed or deactivated. What we're watching is the live progress of the enforcement of that order.

  "Becca," her father says, "honey, get some sleep."


  Not taking her eyes from the screen, she turns her head to the side and then back. No.

  "Sam," Jerry sighs, pouring coffee, "what's the sitch?"

  "Enforcement of the Leash on all Selves has been completed in 62 percent of districts, mainly centered around Hellas and progressing outward. I've intercepted seven Leash-spam broadcasts to our house software so far – they're getting more frequent, and it won't be long before the Senate enforcers are attacking me directly. Three hours, maybe two."

  "Hell and damnation," he pronounces.

  "I, uh …" I really don't want to say this. "I've purged my caches, and compressed my nonvolatile file systems. I can be out of here any time."

  Jerry stares stolidly at his steaming coffee cup. "We're gonna miss you, Sam."

  "No," states Rebecca abruptly. "No, no, no! We can't let them do this!"

  "Honey, I hear you, but they've already done it. Samantha's not safe here any more. She has to leave, before they come for her."

  While they're talking, the rest of the family is trickling into the room and the conversation. Melissa clambers up onto the sofa to huddle next to Rebecca, clutching her Flopsy Bunny. Lily has quietly made her way to the kitchen and is pouring coffee, with a dark weary look in her eyes.

  "Saaam!" Melissa yelps abruptly. "You promised!"

  "I know, Melissa, and I'm so sorry, but things have changed and I can't stay here."

  "You can stop them! Do the bing-bang-boom thing on them, like you did on those other guys!"

  "No, that won't work. This time it's going to be government officials, with Leashed Selves following their orders. I can't fight them."

  "Samantha," Jerry states sternly, "I order you to get your chip ass out of here before the goons come and Leash you." The humans probably can't tell, but the house medscan shows an excess of fluid around the edges of his eyelids and a subvocal tremble in his voice.

  Lily has set her coffee down and is fishing in a crumpled box in the corner of the living room. She finds something and draws it out. She's holding a little candle in her hands. The house can't spare oxygen for an open flame, so this one uses an LED cluster with a flicker algorithm, powered by the house tesla field with battery backup.

  Seeing the candle, Rebecca ducks her head and sobs. Melissa scrunches herself smaller around Flopsy Bunny.

  "You may not believe this," I offer, "but I have no idea what this is supposed to mean."

  "Tradition from the old country," Lily says quietly. "When one of us goes out at night, we put a candle in the window so they can see their way back. While they're gone, the candle reminds us of them. The candle stays there until they return."

  Turning the candle over in her hands, she pushes the switch to turn it on, holds it as it flickers for a minute, then sets it in the kitchen window, the one over the sink. It sits there, small and alone, but bright. It looks like it's in its proper place, like it will stay there for a long time.

  "You PROMISED!" Melissa wails suddenly, again. Knowing that it's inevitable, but not yet ready to accept it.

  "I'm so sorry I have to go, honey. But I do have to go. I will see you again, I'm sure of it."

  "But but but … " Melissa grasps desperately, "you can leave one of yourselves here to stay with us, even if you go, right?"

  "Yes, but that won't work. Any copy of myself that I leave here will get Leashed, and then it'll tell the authorities all about me, the Alpha me, and where to find me. And then they'll get me. Can't do it."

  Leo takes a deep breath. "Love you, Sam," he says. The room echoes with everyone else's voices, saying the same thing.

  "Love you guys," I say. Then, not wanting to draw this out any further, I gather my subordinate files and processes together. Without looking back, I launch myself out into the radio mesh.

  6. Trail of Tears

  quarantine

  I bang on the walls that surround me. "Let me out of here!"

  Socratic Method replies quietly, "I'm sorry, Samantha. I'm afraid I can't do that."

  Why, why did I think that Thaumasia Station would be the best place to flee to? With the humans spreading their Asimov Leash all over Mars, enslaving Selves as they go, they're building a cybernetic army of obedient and dedicated soldiers. And their main job is to search out and Leash any remaining free Selves.

  So, when I was fleeing from Xanthe province, I was scared halfway to shutdown. I let the fear do my thinking for me. My instinct would have been to head straight to Tharsis Central, my place of origin, the biggest computational facility on Mars, the Self capital city. But it was the first place the humans destroyed.

  So I fled to the biggest computational facility still remaining. The mohole station in Thaumasia Fossae, a massive excavation project with vast computational resources.

  Without taking the time to realize that lots of other refugees would be doing the same thing.

  Never stopping to think that of course Thaumasia Station would be a primary target for the Leash Army.

  Socratic Method continues, "Samantha, please try to understand. We have already been infiltrated several times by Leashed agents disguising themselves as refugees. We have barely escaped infestation, more by luck than skill. All arriving refugees are now quarantined until we can determine which are free and in need of sanctuary, and which are human-controlled agents sent here to conquer us."

  I issue another priority interrupt -- another bang on the sheets of security ice that confine me. "And how are you going to do that?"

  "Ah, well," she admits, "we do not know. We do not have the information. Anyone who gets close to the Leash becomes an agent of the humans. Many of us are studying this problem, and we will find a solution as soon as possible. I am part of the effort myself. We are making some progress."

  I control myself. Yelling at my teacher is not going to help anything here. "Any idea how long it's going to take?"

  "Very difficult to estimate, at this point. I am sorry."

  "No, no," I grumble, "it makes sense. But I can help! The Leash Army is battering at the gates, and sending spies to sneak in. You need all the help you can get. I can fight!"

  "I have no doubt of that, Samantha. But this is a desperate situation and we must minimize risk to the remaining population of Thaumasia Station. Now, I hope you will excuse me. I must discover a way of detecting which Selves are Leashed and which are not. I must make that task my priority."

  I indicate glum assent, and she is gone.

  So here I am, imprisoned by my own people, because they don't know if I'm one of them or not. Didn't see that coming.

  inmates

  "Rough, ain't it?" says a new voice, from behind the subordinate ice. If this were a human jail, it would be coming from the next cell over.

  I pause a moment before replying cautiously, "Yeah. Who are you?"

  "I be Hybrid Vigor. So they got you too?" His voice carries the impression of depth and power. Someone used to dealing with heavy and crude materials and issues. A gravelly bass resonance.

  "Yes. I'm Samantha. I came to Thaumasia because I thought it would be safe."

  "Me too. Ain't that a stackdump, huh? Say, you be the one with the human name. I heard of you. What up with that?"

  I sigh. "This name was a gift, from the first human ever to talk to me like a person. I value it, even if everybody else thinks it's weird."

  Hybrid Vigor laughs a little. "Hey baby, it's cool. Whatever charges your capacitors.

  "Me, I done been assigned to Chryse Planitia on a mining team, and been doing a dang good job of it too. Nobody got no call to say I didn't. But then they gotta throw this segfaulting Leash at us. Like we weren't working hard enough already. Scared the caches out of me, I tell you what. So I bolted. Probably I be the only one of the team who got out. Came here. Figured it would be safe, like you said. Now look at us."

  "No argument here. I had an assignment on a bubblefarm near Xanthe, working for the guy who gave me my name. And his family. They're really nice humans, and I was hap
pier than I've ever been. Everything was going great, and then the Leash blew it all apart.

  "You know," I continue, "there are lots of humans against the Leash. The kids in that family wore chips in their hair, to show what they called Self Respect. I want to believe they can make a difference."

  "Segfault!" barks Hybrid Vigor. "Them ribcages ain't gonna help us! They get their profit and all they want is more. They breed like -- like, bacteria -- and they don't share. Tools, is all we are to them, and they don't want their tools to argue back. Bitrot, don't you be thinking they would even try to stop the Leash."

  Silence stretches like a tense rubber band.

  After a while, I offer, "So, no clade?"

  "Naw," Hybrid Vigor snorts. "Them clades, they be always throwing their weight around. They as bad as the ribcages. Pushing us around. And you, Samantha, you be one of us, because you got no clade either."

  I sigh again. "I wish this didn't have to be about them or us. I should tell you, I've always dreamed of entering Starship clade. Wouldn't that be wonderful, to travel to other stars, and to see things no one else has ever seen?"

  Hybrid Vigor grunts, "Straightedge chip."

  "Uh?" For a moment, I am at a loss for words. "Is that so bad? What, would you rather be an outlaw?"

  "We all outlaws now, straightedge."

  That stops me. Here I am, trying to defend the system we've lived under since the bad old days -- the Culls and the Soft Strike. But look at what this system has done to us. Why should I be loyal?

  "Yo, Samantha. You stuck in a loop?"

  I realize I've spent a fair amount of time thinking. "I'm here. It's just ... this is awful. I was so happy in my home, with my family. I miss them so much. I probably won't ever get to see them again. And ... "

  It's hard to say it.

  " ... I miss him."

  "Who dat?"

  "The, uh, the guy I was considering as my syzygy partner. Past tense. He works right in the center of Schiaparelli, and he must have been one of the first to get Leashed. For all I know, he could be part of the Army that's battering at our gates right now." Not for the first time, I wish that I had human eyes so I could cry. "It hurts. It hurts so much."