Chapter 12
Chloe wished that Andrew Norman were present in person so she could throttle him.
Instead, his virtual figure stood across from her in a bucolic, sunlit park, radiating concern and sympathy.
Worthless concern, pointless sympathy, as fake as the rays of sunlight here on this darkest of nights.
“You refuse to help?” she demanded, keeping her voice under control with difficulty.
“We have to be careful how we respond,” he repeated.
“Careful like disobeying what they told me to do to keep my baby alive?”
“Ma’am,” said a man who had introduced himself as Field Agent Bruno Tavion, “the best thing we can do is not give in to their demands. Once they have what they want, there’s no reason for them not to kill her.” The calm, explanatory way he voiced this horror made Chloe’s knees wobble.
“All I know,” she said, “is they have my child.” She’d gotten another picture of Kleio, another example of what Agent Tavion called a “proof of life,” though it was really proof that life could be taken at any moment.
Kleio was awake now, huddled in the back of the cab, her face smudged and streaked with tears, her eyes pools of terror.
Chloe began to slump, fold in on herself, but Marcus put his arm around her, steadying her.
In the real world, they were sitting in the back of an ambulance; she could distantly hear the rumble of its tires and the voices of the paramedics, whom Marcus had frustrated by refusing to lie down on the gurney.
She was glad he was with her physically as well as virtually.
She could feel that he was trying to be gentle, trying to be reassuring, but she could also feel the steel tension in his arm.
“We’ll do anything to save her,” he said to Norman.
“Yes, they know that,” Norman said patiently.
“But I can’t do that. We’re dealing with foreign nationals, most likely the Collective.
Chloe, you’re a historian. Remember what happened when the Russians stole the plans for the atomic bomb?
Decades of Cold War, and several close calls that could have ended in Armageddon. ”
“Are you saying this is a choice between my child’s life and nuclear holocaust?” Chloe demanded.
“I’m saying the stakes are very high.”
“I know that! They have Kleio!”
“For the whole country,” Norman said. “For the whole world. For more than you personally.”
“Damn the world! I want Kleio back!”
“That’s what I mean,” Norman said. “You’re fixated on your tragedy. Your feelings are part of an evolutionary system designed to protect the species. Normally that’s good. But in some situations, those feelings are not an appropriate guide.”
“You, sir,” Marcus said, in the low, slow tone that Chloe recognized meant he was very angry indeed, “are an ass. Or maybe a robot.”
“I understand your pain,” Norman said. “I don’t need to share it to understand it. And because I don’t share it, I can understand the bigger picture it’s part of. These terrorists want to destroy, or, worse, steal the most powerful advancement in, well, ever. In all of human history.”
“If the System’s so powerful,” Chloe said, “send it out to save Kleio! You wanted it to go catch the hacker; well, send it out to catch the sons of bitches who took my little girl. I’ll vote yes this time.”
Norman shook his head. “Things have changed. This is obviously a honeypot, a trap. Remember the attack on OverNet yesterday? The System analyzed it and realized that the goal was not to disrupt OverNet but to get the System to counterattack and use that to trace her location. This kidnapping is actually a good sign: It means they failed. They don’t really believe you can give them the location of the System, but they believe I’ll let the System loose to help find your daughter, and they can then use its activity to triangulate it. ”
“Can’t the System prevent that?” Chloe demanded.
“Of course,” Norman said, “once Congress has voted to allow it full admin status on OverNet. Then not only would it be able to protect itself, it would be able to stop any plot before it even fertilizes, much less hatches. But I can’t give the System that power without congressional fiat.”
“Call that vote, then!” Chloe said.
Norman’s eyes narrowed. “After you convinced half the committee to vote against me yesterday? I’m guessing a majority of politicians would have the same cold feet as you, the same movie-shit fears about an AGI going mad and taking over. I need ironclad certainty of support before I risk a vote.”
“So you’d rather risk Kleio’s life?”
“A failed vote won’t help Kleio either.”
“Why is it such a big deal if the hackers find out where the System is?” Chloe demanded. “Can’t you keep it safe? Are you or are you not the most powerful man in the world? Just double the damned guard or whatever you need to do.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Chloe took a deep breath and forced her voice to return to level. “You’ve never had a child, Andrew. Please. Try to put yourself in my place.”
“On the contrary,” he said, eyes flashing. “I do have a child. You want me to endanger mine to save yours.”
“Your child?” Chloe gasped. “What, the—the damn System?”
“I’m sorry I can’t do what you want,” Norman said. “But the System will assist the field agents with their analysis. Do what they say and I’m sure Kleio will be okay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to give what information I can to the System. She’ll help as much as possible behind the scenes.”
“Wait!” Chloe called before he could disconnect, and he looked at her. “Do you promise?”
“What?”
Chloe took another deep breath and said the words slowly. “Do you promise Kleio will be okay?”
Norman hesitated, opened his mouth, shut it again . . . and blinked out.
The floor hit Chloe’s knees.
Marcus’s arms were around her, and his breath was hissing between his teeth, in and out, in and out.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, each word thick and careful, as if enunciated around a mouthful of marbles.
Part of Chloe wanted to accept the embrace, wanted to burrow into his arms, to feel their strength enclose her.
But that strength couldn’t help Kleio. And it was her fault; Kleio had been targeted because of her, because she was the newest and most vulnerable member of Norman’s damn committee.
She was furious at herself and, even though it didn’t really make sense, at everyone and everything in the world, and especially at anyone who said it wasn’t her fault.
So her body remained stiff. Marcus didn’t appear to notice, but then he was good at “hugging the porcupine” after sticking with her through eight years and two marriages.
If we don’t get Kleio back, Chloe felt the thought come, I’ll lose him too.
The death of a child was often the end of the parents’ relationship.
She’d once found that confounding: Wouldn’t the parents take refuge in each other?
Wouldn’t they want to help each other, and be helped?
Now she understood. Kleio had so much of Marcus in her.
Could Chloe stand looking at him, seeing Kleio in his face?
And could she stand seeing her pain reflected in his eyes?
He’d been her mirror, the measure of her self-image since they’d remarried.
She wouldn’t even be able to look at her own face in a mirror after today.
“We will get her back,” said Marcus.
Chloe wanted to be convinced, but the we rang false. If anyone could save Kleio, it wasn’t Chloe or Marcus. They were powerless, and the man with the power . . . “He wouldn’t promise.”
“He doesn’t think the math works out to give odds he can stake a guarantee on,” said a voice, and Grandma was there, crouching before Chloe. “And he’s not wrong, not about any of the things he said. But I can promise. Your daughter will be okay.”
“How?” Chloe said, fighting a sick, wild hope. “How can you promise that?”
Grandma took a breath that was half a sigh. “Because she wants to help.”
“Who?”
“The Final System.”
“Norman won’t let her.”
Grandma was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Funny how things can change in a moment. The System herself has been arguing that she’s not ready to launch on OverNet, and Norman’s been the one pushing her, telling her it’s time to get people used to the idea.
Now the System wants to help you, but the attack yesterday made Norman overcautious.
” She paused, then asked suddenly, “Do you like fairy tales?”
“Kleio does.” For all she and Marcus had tried to present a variety of real-world role models for her, Kleio had succumbed to the gravitational pull of princesses.
“I don’t mean kids’ movies,” Grandma said gently. “I mean the old-fashioned stories. There’s always a condition for the magic to work. Sometimes you have to say the right words, exactly the right words.”
“What words?”
“The words that will give the System permission to find and save your daughter. We can’t countermand Norman’s orders, since he occupies the top tier of her Overchecks.
He’s directly forbidden her from acting as admin, of course.
But as a mere user, he has only forbidden her from, and I quote, ‘doing anything new without orders.’”
She paused while Chloe stared at her blankly. “So?” Chloe said at last.
“So he didn’t say whose orders. You’re on a committee that has authority over the System.
If the committee gives the System a command, and that command doesn’t conflict with Norman’s prior instructions, it must obey.
” She paused, then said slowly and clearly, “The System would welcome this command.”
“The all-powerful machine is working to get around its creator?” Marcus rumbled. “That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”
Chloe drew her arms inward, away from him. What the hell was he doing, objecting when the System might be able to save Kleio? He sounded like Norman, acting as if there were something at stake more important than Kleio’s life.
“Working around its creator,” Grandma said with a sharp look at Marcus, “but not working around its checks and balances.”
“I ask,” Marcus said, “because this all seems very convenient, doesn’t it? Kleio goes missing, and you show up wanting us to do or say something that’ll unleash what’s apparently a more fearsome technology than the A-bomb.”
Chloe drew in her breath sharply and recoiled away from Grandma, which moved her deeper into Marcus’s arms. That thought hadn’t occurred to her, not once, but it was so clear as soon as Marcus said it.
She was ashamed she hadn’t seen it herself.
She was also annoyed that Marcus could hold himself aloof enough from Kleio’s plight to think about what Norman would call the “big picture.”
“Oh,” Grandma said in a flat voice, “I see. I don’t know how to reassure you, except to give you my word.
Chloe, I swear to you: I did not foresee that Kleio would be kidnapped.
I did not predict it. I did not intend it.
I am shocked that it happened. And I am furious.
I want to fix it. Chloe.” She reached for Chloe’s chin with her virtual hand, and Chloe allowed the ghostly touch to lift her head until she made eye contact.
“Chloe,” Grandma repeated, her sunken eyes smoldering, “I swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t plan this.
No matter what else may happen, believe that. ”
Chloe did. She looked up at Marcus.
“Okay,” Marcus said slowly. Chloe knew the tone: She’d heard it toward the end of some of their arguments. It meant he was half convinced and willing to be persuaded the rest of the way. “But why, then? Why do you care?”
Grandma frowned into space for a moment, then said in a singsong tone,
“For want of a nail the shoe slipped.
For want of a shoe the horse tripped.
For want of a horse the rider was tossed.
For want of a rider the message was lost.
For want of a message the knights were defeated.
For want of the knights the king was unseated.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.”
Her eyes returned to Chloe and Marcus. “People think history turns on big moments, but it’s all the little ones, isn’t it, Chloe?
Leopold Lojka takes a wrong turn and stalls in front of Gavril Princip, who shoots his passenger and ignites World War I.
A British private sees a German lance corporal stumbling toward him but declines to fire on a wounded man, and so Adolf Hitler lives.
Andrew Norman has created a System that can see the unforeseen consequences and understand them, even before they occur.
It can prevent the nail from slipping.” She paused, then said carefully, “If it can prevent the nail from slipping, then it can also cause it to slip. That’s a power that has never before existed, not in all of human history.
And at this moment, that power is vested in a single man.
I put you on the committee for a reason, Chloe.
And it was working. You convinced your colleagues to vote against letting the System run around on LawNet.
You shifted their thinking from blind trust to something more appropriate for the level of power they’re tasked with overseeing.
” She sighed. “I’d hoped you might do that to Congress as a whole, be a check to Norman as he pushed the System toward launch, make him scared to risk the vote, or at least make sure the System received enough scrutiny prelaunch to ensure that Norman wouldn’t be the only hand behind it.
But this changes things.” Her eyes looked even more sunken as they stared into nothingness.
“I see only darkness ahead. But the System can save Kleio. And if I don’t help you, what would that make me?
” She met Chloe’s eyes. “What kind of ‘moral agent’ would I be?”
Marcus squeezed Chloe’s shoulders, so hard it hurt, but in a good way. “I’m convinced.”
“Let’s do it,” Chloe said, feeling that wild hope again, but it was stronger now, less sickly.
“Get Evans to call a meeting,” Grandma said. “Get a quorum even if you have to go to their homes and drag them out of bed. But don’t let Norman know. I’ll send the System.” She disappeared.