conference table, pulled out a set of wired gloves, and slipped them on.
The project R osa spoke in a puzzled, masculine voice: “That link will not respond.”
Panwar shifted, his eyes sunken, his face waxy with fear. “Did you think E-3 would forget about Lucy?”
“It can’t know what the robot’s used for.”
“It knows very well. It holds Lucy responsible for the loss of earlier generations.”
Director Vallejo had been talking to someone off-screen, but now her attention returned to Virgil. “We have only seconds, Dr. Copeland.”
Panwar said, “I asked it to run the problem again, Virgil. The result was the same. It understands lying, and it understands what will happen to it if it changes course now. That’s one key to sentience of course—a survival instinct. I didn’t realize we were teaching it that, but what else could we be teaching when the L ov s compete for dominance as much as they cooperate among themselves?”
Like a human society, Virgil thought, everyone forever trying to find their own place. “So we’ve lost it.” Slowly, he pulled the gloves off his hands.
Director Vallejo frowned. “Dr. Copeland?”
“We’re helpless,” he told her. “In the last forty-eight hours the system has . . . transcended itself.” He knew it was stupid to ask. It was the first thing Vallejo would have tried, but: “Can’t you cut power to the module?”
“With a backup fuel cell in the L ov lockdown? No point.”
“Can’t the connections be physically cut?”
“That’s what E-3 is trying to do.”
“Dammit!” His fist hit the table. “This is not a joke! If the module goes down, everyone of the L ov colonies will be lost.”
“ That is the least of my worries, Dr. Copeland. I’ve had to evacuate the neighboring modules. I’ve put everyone in vacuum suits. There will be a shift in momentum when the module goes, though how bad that will be we don’t know.”
“You can’t just let it go.”
“It’s going, Dr. Copeland. In less than a minute by our best estimates, so if there’s anything at all you can do, do it now.”
“Can’t you send people out there?”
“To be attacked by the roaches? To fall when the module falls?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I’m told the roaches will finish their work on the downward swing of our next rotation. There’s not even time to set explosives.”
Virgil turned around to face the colony again. “Panwar, this is it.”
“I can’t do anything.”
“Crash stations!” Vallejo ordered her staff. It was the last thing Virgil heard before she cut the link.
The public feed from the Hammer continued. Among the bank of images were empty hallways, sealed doors, and the bright sparks of construction roaches burning holes in the darkness of space. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded, not sure if E-3 still bothered to listen. “Stop now, and we still might save some part of you, but go on, and it will all be lost.”
The EquaSys module snapped free: a great silver bead breaking away from the station. Virgil watched it through a camera at the other end of the Hammer, and at the same time, through a camera on a construction roach falling with the doomed section.
Two of the silver-backed roaches had been knocked loose. They followed the station like pilot fish unable to keep up.
chapter
8
A ROving Silicon Agent owned by NetFlash News detected the anomaly on the Hammer several minutes before the module fell. Following its training, the R osa directed video streams from the Hammer’s public cams back to a supercomputer in Iowa, which synthesized and released a first-pass story announcing that an eighty-ton armored and insulated missile was coming down to Earth.
Updates followed every thirty seconds. By the time the module broke loose the article had generated seventy-three million hits, including one from Ela Suvanatat’s personal R osa . Kathang monitored the situation, following the explosive creation of betting pools aimed at predicting
The project R osa spoke in a puzzled, masculine voice: “That link will not respond.”
Panwar shifted, his eyes sunken, his face waxy with fear. “Did you think E-3 would forget about Lucy?”
“It can’t know what the robot’s used for.”
“It knows very well. It holds Lucy responsible for the loss of earlier generations.”
Director Vallejo had been talking to someone off-screen, but now her attention returned to Virgil. “We have only seconds, Dr. Copeland.”
Panwar said, “I asked it to run the problem again, Virgil. The result was the same. It understands lying, and it understands what will happen to it if it changes course now. That’s one key to sentience of course—a survival instinct. I didn’t realize we were teaching it that, but what else could we be teaching when the L ov s compete for dominance as much as they cooperate among themselves?”
Like a human society, Virgil thought, everyone forever trying to find their own place. “So we’ve lost it.” Slowly, he pulled the gloves off his hands.
Director Vallejo frowned. “Dr. Copeland?”
“We’re helpless,” he told her. “In the last forty-eight hours the system has . . . transcended itself.” He knew it was stupid to ask. It was the first thing Vallejo would have tried, but: “Can’t you cut power to the module?”
“With a backup fuel cell in the L ov lockdown? No point.”
“Can’t the connections be physically cut?”
“That’s what E-3 is trying to do.”
“Dammit!” His fist hit the table. “This is not a joke! If the module goes down, everyone of the L ov colonies will be lost.”
“ That is the least of my worries, Dr. Copeland. I’ve had to evacuate the neighboring modules. I’ve put everyone in vacuum suits. There will be a shift in momentum when the module goes, though how bad that will be we don’t know.”
“You can’t just let it go.”
“It’s going, Dr. Copeland. In less than a minute by our best estimates, so if there’s anything at all you can do, do it now.”
“Can’t you send people out there?”
“To be attacked by the roaches? To fall when the module falls?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. I’m told the roaches will finish their work on the downward swing of our next rotation. There’s not even time to set explosives.”
Virgil turned around to face the colony again. “Panwar, this is it.”
“I can’t do anything.”
“Crash stations!” Vallejo ordered her staff. It was the last thing Virgil heard before she cut the link.
The public feed from the Hammer continued. Among the bank of images were empty hallways, sealed doors, and the bright sparks of construction roaches burning holes in the darkness of space. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded, not sure if E-3 still bothered to listen. “Stop now, and we still might save some part of you, but go on, and it will all be lost.”
The EquaSys module snapped free: a great silver bead breaking away from the station. Virgil watched it through a camera at the other end of the Hammer, and at the same time, through a camera on a construction roach falling with the doomed section.
Two of the silver-backed roaches had been knocked loose. They followed the station like pilot fish unable to keep up.
chapter
8
A ROving Silicon Agent owned by NetFlash News detected the anomaly on the Hammer several minutes before the module fell. Following its training, the R osa directed video streams from the Hammer’s public cams back to a supercomputer in Iowa, which synthesized and released a first-pass story announcing that an eighty-ton armored and insulated missile was coming down to Earth.
Updates followed every thirty seconds. By the time the module broke loose the article had generated seventy-three million hits, including one from Ela Suvanatat’s personal R osa . Kathang monitored the situation, following the explosive creation of betting pools aimed at predicting
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