Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 119

"How," said Libbi, her speaker emitting panting-like noises, "did you do that?"

"I don't know," said Mathison, pushing his untamed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Oh, you probably don't know what they're referring to, having only just joined the scene. I must say you missed something quite incredible. I'm not one to complain but you're a bit late to arrive, so perhaps your recompense will be not witnessing the spectacle that just befell the pair. Oh, OK, I'm a good sport, I'll give you a brief run-down.

After Libbi was surprised by the defencebot, Mathison closed his eyes and leapt to her rescue, unleashing all his Josef-induced pent-up aggression. From there it was a blurry run down profuse corridors, bravely past another defencebot that seemed conflicted, its little body oscillating in two different directions, before they finally settled on a service closet. The interior was small and would have stunk had Libbi been equipped with the optional scent receptors. It was also dark, apart from a rhombus of light seeping under the gap at the base of the door, lighting Mathison's feet.

"Thanks," said Libbi.

"I won't let it happen again," said Mathison. It was the third time he'd mentioned it.

Her response was filled with honesty and sincerity: "I believe you."

"Once it's gone, I'll get you out of here," said Mathison.

"Not yet," said Libbi. "I'm here to transfer my consciousness back into my old body. But first I need to find it."

Mathison's face took on a distinctly indistinct expression, in a sense strained, but ultimately more difficult to read than The Sound and the Fury. It was brought on by either something she'd said or--

A slight breeze pressed against her sensors. Was someone walking just outside the door? Her wings fluttered involuntarily, knocking against something weak and fleshy. They hadn't had time to fully explore the closet but she assumed it was some kind of cloth or mop head. When it slunk to the floor, the object's eyes sparkled from the low shard of light. It was the same woman they'd met outside the gate a few days earlier.

From outside the closet, an uninterested observer will have heard a scream. Of course, this would turn any rational uninterested observer, suddenly and clearly, interested. That's what Libbi was worried about.

She tried to mute her speaker, but the scream continued, now in shorter bursts. Then she realised why it had failed.

Mathison's wide mouth and strained expression could be made out, even in the dark. He shrieked once more, then made for the door handle. Libbi flew in the way, almost cutting off his flowing hair with her wings.

"No," she said, in a firm whisper. "The defencebots might be out there. They'll see us."

"But...but..." said Mathison, bumbling even more than usual. He slunk to the floor, turning away from the body. "I knew it, I knew it," he said. "She's dead. I knew it."

"That's Diya?" said Libbi, coming to rest on the chest of the figure. She'd seemed fishy when they first met.

Mathison mumbled something which she took to be affirmation.

"It's OK," said Libbi.

"No, it's not. I killed her!"

"She's alive."

"What?" said Mathison, turning slightly. His uncontrollable babbling had become controlled. Mostly. "She is?"

"Her chest is moving."

"I dropped the--" said Mathison, groping around the floor. "The medical...oh!" His hands gripped the briefcase. "I can grab her consciousness. Before it's too late."

"You can what?" said Libbi. The aperture on her lens widened so much it became a fish-eye. "Are you crazy?"

"No, no," said Mathison, "it's different. Don't worry. Now I can-- Oh." This time the oh ended in a downward inflection. "It's the wrong one."

"Hello?"

It was a voice that came from outside the service closet. A voice that somehow mixed naive calmness with menacing overtones. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Zerro's.

Mathison's eyes were focussed on Diya.

"Are you in there?" said Zerro, brightly.

"We need to help her," whispered Mathison.

That breeze was back. Libbi's CPU temporarily halted when she discovered where it was coming from. "First," she said, lowering her own speaker's volume, "we have to help ourselves."