Planetfall 03 - Before Mars by Emma Newman

Author:Emma Newman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

13

THERE ARE FAR too many assumptions in Travis’s predicted dialog tree for my liking, but I can’t deny that he has planned well. While I’m still annoyed that he is using me just as much as his husband is—and for a far riskier task—I do feel a strange relief that he made all this happen. I was never comfortable with the sense that I’d been picked out as a result of pure kismet. It simply didn’t fit with my view of the world. I wasn’t that lucky—or that unfortunate, depending on my mood at the time. It always felt too unlikely on some level that a multibillionaire would come to dinner, let alone be so impressed by my art that he would want to spend millions to send me here. What else has Travis been doing behind his husband’s back? I dread to think.

At least I never have that concern with Charlie. He is as he appears to be, and even though that can sometimes be infuriating in its dullness, it is reassuring too. I’m too hard on him sometimes. It wasn’t his fault I pretended. And I can’t blame falling pregnant squarely on him either. As much as I want to.

It bothers me that Charlie didn’t mention the footprint, or my concerns about the others here. If it had been something I’d mentioned several times, I could let it go. He gets bored of my circular thinking, not understanding that sometimes talking this sort of thing through repeatedly is my way of processing it. I haven’t mentioned it before at all though. Principia must be screening the messages. But then I remember the NDA and groan in frustration at the lack of satisfying answers. This is the thing people don’t talk about with AIs. They’re delighted to have them find music they’d like, or take care of menial admin tasks—like rating every bloody thing under the sun—but they don’t worry about coming into conflict with them.

For most people, that wouldn’t even be an issue. Unless they have a lot of money, or the sort of role that requires the most advanced chips and close contact with an AI, most people don’t even find themselves in this situation. And it’s the not knowing that makes it worse; Charlie could just have overlooked it.

I can’t take my concerns to anyone else. The specter of my mental health will rear its irritating head again, not to mention the possibility that they could all be in on it.

I have never felt so alone.

When in doubt, gather more data. That’s the only thing I can do. I need to determine whether the messages were censored, and even though I can’t prove that definitively, I can see whether Charlie and Mum simply forgot what I’d asked them. It’s harder in Mum’s case; she may be deliberately not addressing the subject. It’s not like I’ve asked her why she took up pottery.

I’m reminded of what Travis said about her writing and about my parents’ activism. It

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