Adam Roberts - Stone(2002) by Anonymous Author

Author:Anonymous Author
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Epingsoft
Published: 2011-04-28T16:00:00+00:00

I sat on the ledge formed by the stairs outside Tag-matteo's room – his mausoleum, more precisely. The thin, bright air was fresh against my face. I had before me a splendid view over the up-down landscape of rock and pathways steepled with dozens of spires.

'I'll tell you, AI,' I said. 'I am disinclined to allow this taking over of my motor reflexes. Do you see?'

We should be getting going. Take a bird-car back to Ru-denetter, and then into orbit.

'What is this all about?'

What do you mean?

'This crime. I need to know more, AI. You know what I need to know. There is much more here, isn't there? Much more that you know and that you're not telling me.'

This conversation can't go anywhere.

'I want to know who has employed me. Do you see? I want to know why they want me to murder the population of a whole planet.' The archaic word murder seemed to be picked up by a sudden breeze that whispered it back at me.

Probably best not to think about it in those terms, said the AI. That'll only make it harder for you to do the job.

'I want to know why it has to be the planet you've chosen for me. What is it about that particular place? I want to know about the cultures that live there, about the peoples I am going to destroy.'

That will make it harder too. Best not to think about them as people at all. Think of it as a job to do.

'Tell me.'

Can't.

'Won't?'

Listen, Ae. You must believe me – must trust me. If there were any way I could tell you these things you want to know, I would do it. But there is a crucial reason why I cannot. Of course you want to know what this reason is, and . . . not trying to outrage you, but. . . I simply cannot tell you. But eventually I will tell you everything. You must complete the charge, that's the first thing. Then I'll tell you everything.

I sat for a long time on the step, watching the occasional hint of cloud cast dubious half-shade on the ground below me; watching the shadows of the rock-spires slowly haul themselves round like the marker of gigantic sundials. I was trying to work out how much of my mind was free of the AI. If it were truly an AI, then it should only have access to certain cortexes – my speech centres, my motor centres. Then, provided I did not subvocalise, I ought to be able to think without being overheard ('overthought' perhaps). But what if it were something more? What if it were simply a figment of my imagination? The internal voice of a madman, the imaginary friend of schizophrenic paranoia. Eventually I spoke.

'Is it the Wheah?'

The Wheah, repeated the AI.

'Are they behind this? Or one particular sect of Wheah, perhaps. I still can't think why they would, unless those political hobbyists are correct in their talk of war.

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