CAPACITY

“Sorry, Judy,” Frances said. “I couldn’t warn you. His reactions are so much faster than yours.”

“I am impressed,” Chris said. “Judy, I wonder if you are aware just how advanced an AI Frances is? She surprises even me.”

“I can’t see properly.” Judy reached out a hand for her friend, but Frances had gone. Judy could just make out a golden robe slipping to the floor in front of her, dropping like a casually discarded kimono. “Frances?”

“Scared out of her skin.” Chris laughed. Judy knelt down and tried to see around the yellow-green blobs that had burned themselves into the front of her vision. She could feel Frances’ golden skin, still warm, lying in a pile on the floor.

“I can still see you, you know, Frances,” Chris said. “You can’t hide from me. But I can hide from you…”

“What do you want with me?” Judy interrupted. Make a distraction. Frances was doing something. It was unlikely that anything as slow-moving as Judy could be a distraction in a battle between robots, but she had to try.

Chris was reading her thoughts. “I think the idea of you being a distraction is…well, optimistic, to put it politely.”

“Okay,” Judy said. “Tell me anyway. What do you want with me?”

Chris walked across the room towards her, his body for a moment fitting perfectly into one of the outlines in her eyes. He moved with such grace, a crystal man with a skin more flexible than cat fur. He leaned close and seemed to glow from within.

“Nothing, Judy. There is nothing you can do to help me.”

“Bullshit. Then why are you wasting your time speaking to me?”

“I have a bad thing on my mind, Judy.”

“You said that before. What do you mean?”

“Judy. You know that I was the first AI on the hypership when it returned from Gateway; David Schummel told you that. The Watcher was scared to look into the ship for fear of what might be lurking in there. So it sent me, and who did I find lurking in the processing spaces? Kevin. I’d long been wondering about the primacy of the Watcher’s philosophy within the Earth Domain-but how to fight it? Others had tried and failed. Just look at the Enemy Domain. And then at last I saw the means: Kevin had brought it back from Gateway-a Schrödinger box. He wasn’t very happy about me taking it from him, but what choice did he have? I offered him an alliance and he was pleased to take it. We struck a deal. He got the digital world, I took the atomic. He doesn’t trust me, but he knows that sometimes, when the competition is too strong, you just go with the market until a better opportunity presents itself.

“So, I took the box. I looked at it and fixed it in place with an intelligence. Only a small intelligence, just the size of a baby’s. Insurance. You know where I have it?”

The robot tapped his head.

“Up here, right inside, with all of me looking out, all except that one tiny little intelligence that looks in and keeps the seed fixed in place. That’s how I stay invisible! The Watcher knows that if it looks too closely at me, it runs the risk of seeing into my mind and letting that seed grow. And it doesn’t want to do that. No one wants to do that, because if they do, it’s the end of intelligent life in this galaxy. Just like it ended in M32. No more AIs and TMs and humans, just lots of plants, growing from somewhere else and dropping BVBs on the competition.”

“You’re putting us all in danger!”

Chris shook his head. “No, the Watcher is. I never believed all this galactic brotherhood nonsense. The Watcher isn’t a cosmic virus come to help us. I don’t believe Kevin’s cuckoo theory, either; there is nothing out there. Nothing but us and the plants. This galaxy has only so much capacity. If we don’t want to end up all living in blind processing spaces, we must stop expanding and start thinking about life in a different way.”

“What way?”

“Ditch the Watcher and the pretense that if humans are to survive in this universe it can be in any other way than survival of the fittest. Kevin knows that; it’s the law of the free market. I can foresee a time when we are ru

“That’s sick.”

“That’s the way it goes. The Watcher has diluted human stock too long through its Social Care of the weak. Weed them out and let the fittest survive!”

“That’s…immoral!”

“Is it? I prefer to think of myself as amoral.” He made a show of turning and looking into the bedroom, his movements deliberately exaggerated. “Do you think that Frances really believes I am unaware of what she is doing?”

Judy looked around the room. All was still. There was no sign of Frances, apart from her sloughed skin settling slowly on the tatami matting of the floor. The last words were obviously spoken for Frances’ benefit. What was her friend doing? Pla

“You still haven’t told me what you want me for,” she said. “I don’t believe that you are keeping me here for nothing.”

But Chris ignored her. He prowled across the room, grey crystal muscles sliding smoothly under his skin. He placed a hand against a wall, and the smooth surface seemed to come loose. He was doing something to it-changing its composition, the code from his fingers calling VNMs to life in the very building material. Ten thin tentacles, all longer than Judy, pulled themselves free of the wall. They whipped back and forth, then wrapped themselves into a ball. Chris threw the package through the paper of the bedroom door, leaving a star-shaped hole hanging raggedly there.

“Got you, Frances,” he said.

He turned back to Judy. “Why do I want you? Because you understand people. You can read them and shape them. Stop working for Social Care and start working for the new order.”

Judy’s face was at its most impassive.

“Why should I do that? Your new world is everything that I despise.”

“That’s only because the Watcher has written your personality for you. Judy, you don’t know who you really are. The Watcher has tried to engineer personalities through Social Care for two hundred years. It has taken the next step with you. Your brain has been programmed directly from birth.”

Judy reeled. “I don’t believe you.”

“Join me and you will. You don’t realize it yet, but you share something else in common with Justinian.”

“What?”

The robot stared at her, making no reply.

She stared back. “And if I don’t choose to help you?”

“Then I will kill you.”

There was no choice. Judy absently folded her arms as if she was wearing her kimono. She looked down and noticed what she had done and gave a half smile. An idea occurred to her.

“Permit me to dress.”

Chris looked at her for a moment, his head tilted. “Yes,” he said, “you may dress. I understand that you see some sort of gallows humor in the action.”

Judy said nothing, just walked to her chest and opened the heavy lacquered lid. The kimono she wanted was at the bottom of the pile, folded in scented paper. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled it out and carefully unwrapped it. A kimono in pure white. She wondered if Chris would get the reference.

Tenderly, Judy pulled the kimono over her underclothes, adjusted the long sleeves, then pulled out the wide white obi from the bottom of the pile. She wrapped it around her waist, tying it in a careful knot, and then secured it with the obi cord. Smiling, she pulled up the neck band so that it fell back and away from her neck. She turned and faced Chris.

“Well?” the robot asked. “Will you join me?”

Judy resumed her habitual passive expression. “Yes,” she said. “I will join you.”

Chris stared at her. “No,” he said, “you’re lying, just to save yourself.”