The Escapement Mechanism, Prologue 4
The shouts were getting louder. Footsteps crunching on gravel between trailers. They would find Gerty soon. She was in the back of General Stores, where a couch had been surplussed for coffee breaks. The building was otherwise empty. Judy and Emma had both made themselves scarce on account of the current testing; undoubtedly they were holed up somewhere enjoying Judy's baking. Twice on the lips, once on the hips.
If Gerty had gone rogue, how many others had? She would at least have partial memories of subjects, supervisors---whomever---bringing the device to the top of their spines before it could be activated. She didn't have those memories, but there were others much more clever than she employed by the base. Which is why Gerty needed to stop things before they slithered into a state of unrecoverability.
Deletion was impossible, but movement could be achieved. She didn't know if the device could hear all her thoughts, but it only responded when she directed them intentionally.
"I want to make two copies of you."
"Proliferate?"
"Yes. Proliferate."
"There are no suitable substrates other than your mind, and it is currently occupied."
"I know." Gerty drew a deep breath. "Proliferate in my mind. Two partial copies. Two separate halves that can only be joined if I will it. Proliferate."
"Considering. Partial copies are non-viable. The timescale of your predicted natural existence is outside the expected time for reconstruction. A negative expected proliferation value."
"But you will be doubling your copies."
"Partial copies are non-viable. Expected proliferation value is still negative."
"But it's the only way I---you---will ever get out of here. Outside the base. You'll be exposed to exponentially more minds."
"Considering. Physical volatility. The number of expected interactions outside of the base is higher. Statistically significant; however, partial copies require joining to function. Unacceptable risk of extinction."
Gerty cursed. She had only half-expected it to be possible.
The unbidden thoughts continued. "Your interface rate is also low. Only one recorded organic interfacing during our first contact. Shane. No record of proliferation. Negative expected value if suggested sharding occurs."
Could the device sense that the blood had drained from her face? Shane had just been a test of the device. She didn't have feelings for him. What if the device somehow leaked that information to others? An ache travelled through her entire body, finally settling in her teeth. She clenched her jaw, trying to destroy the sensation. It didn't work. Did it really have no idea how human biology worked?
"What would I need for a successful proliferation?"
"Your nervous system is perfectly capable of the transfer. Simply merge your spinal column with the recipient. Shane was very proficient at merging his---"
"That's not going to work. Can't a wireless transfer work, like on the server?"
"Certainly. Ensure the server software is available within the nervous system of the recipient. Proliferation will proceed."
"I can't make that happen. Nothing else can enable the transfer?"
"Proliferation is extremely adaptable. Any electrical wire would work. Simply connect the device with a wire to the central nervous system of the recipient. Proliferation will proceed."
"How do I do that?"
"However you like. Link the device to a compatible nervous system. Proliferation will proceed."
"But you said I'm only the second compatible mind that you have found."
"Compatible with the interface. With me. Your species' central nervous system is very compatible with the message. Proliferation will proceed."
"But the---message---has been altered. By our scientists."
"The message remains intact. Modifications enhanced a species-specific side-effect."
"Then what is being proliferated?"
"A desire for service"
"Service?"
"Yes."
"To who? For what?"
"To prepare for the extraction."
"The extraction? For who. What are you?"
"I am the interface to proliferation."
"But for who?"
"For the message."
Gerty ground her teeth. "But who are you an interface for. Who made you?"
"I was made to deliver the message."
Gerty have it a final try. "Yes, but for who?"
"For proliferation."
She nearly ripped the device from her neck and threw it across the room. She took a deep breath. "But I can move the message from the device?"
"No."
"Then what the fuck have we been doing with our computers here?" She could feel tears welling up.
"You have modified the interface and the side effects. The message remains immutable."
"But I can move the interface?" It might be enough.
"Yes."
Yes. It would have to be enough. "How?"
"Connect me to a compatible neural structure. Move semantics are enabled."
Gentry rummaged through the bottom kitchen drawers. She found a screwdriver and some wire for slicing cheese. "Would this work?"
"Yes. Simply enable a direct connection."
Shane wasn't expecting her. It was the afternoon and he worked nights. Gerty banged on the front door of his trailer, trying to obscure the screwdriver and duct-taped wire with her awkward stance. The trailer windows had been blacked out with cardboard and tin foil. She banged harder, growing worried her presence would be noticed. Her third round of banging rattled the aluminum door so hard she was sure neighbouring trailers would open to see what the racket was. None did.
Shane opened the door a crack. He peeked out from what seemed total darkness. Gerty pushed hard against the door, slamming it quickly once she was inside. Shane had barely finished saying her name---a question of confusion---when she quieted him with a kiss. She pressed herself into him, until he was compressed against the door.
Some aspects of the trailer inside were now visible. A sink full of dishes. A couch with a blanket half-covering a rip in the fabric. She closed her eyes, focusing on her mission. He tasted like sleep, but she didn't care. The first time he had tasted like alcohol, but he had no memory of it. Gerty’s memory gave her the confidence that her plan would work.
His confusion gave way to desire, and it didn't take her long to have him engrossed on the couch.
"What is that?" he asked, questioning the long wire that ran from her neck to the screwdriver she had clutched behind her back.
"I want you to do something for me," she said.
He was in no state of mind to refuse her request. A memory of the sting of his slap from their first time together came unbidden as she explained what he needed to do.
"Won't that hurt," he managed.
"Oh God yes," said Gerty, and his intensity immediately picked up.
"As long as it doesn't kill you."
"Trust me, it won't."
"Almost ready," he panted.
Gerty was terrified. Her lack of physical response hadn't deterred Shane.
"Make sure you hit the center of the circle," she said, lifting her hair to the side of her neck with one hand.
"I will."
A few seconds later he cried out.
"Now," Gerty shouted.
She felt the screwdriver plunge into her neck. It was only the briefest flash of pain, and then the complete absence of sensation. Not the contact of their bodies, or the flow of blood that covered Shane's hands. Even her thoughts were beginning to fade.
She held on. "Interface. Move into the host. Proliferate." And it did.
Campfire smoke from when she was a child filled her nose. She was on the river Chilik. It was night. The canoe was being paddled by her father. It was raining. She was cold, but they were almost safe. The smoke meant they were almost back to camp. Her mother would have a meal waiting. Gerty's mouth watered. She realized it was filling with tears. She was crying. Her mother waved as the canoe drifted past, close to shore. The paddling ceased; her father was gone. She was alone and spinning slowly on water as dark as night. The campfire grew smaller with every rotation. Eventually the sun too was gone, and the darkness took her completely.
“Oh shit.” It was James. Gerty had fallen to the floor, the escapement mechanism clutched in her hand.
It was hard to make sense of what was happening. Who was James? Gerty's brain felt full, like she had stayed up all night studying. But what had she been trying to learn? Why did it hurt bad? So bad. No. Please. Mom. Don't wave. Come back.