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Then again, maybe that was the point. He had hit on a way to assert his rights: only people could marry.
Not machines. She had a thousand and one reasons to be reluctant, but maybe for once in her life she
should stop analyzing and go with her instincts.
"All right." Despite her intent to be pragmatic, she blushed like a kid. "I'll marry you."
Turner's mouth opened. He snapped it closed, then grinned. "Hah! I can't believe you agreed."
Sam laughed. "Well, I did."
He beamed at Thomas and O'Reilly. "The lady said yes."
Sam turned around. Thomas seemed bewildered. It was a singularly unique occurrence; she had seen
him in many moods but never confused.
"You can't marry," he told them.
O'Reilly cleared his throat. "Mr. Pascal "
Turner turned with a smile that made Sam think of the Cheshire Cat fromAlice in Wonderland. "Call me
Turner."
"Turner, yes." O'Reilly rubbed his chin. "This is a rather anomalous proposition."
Turner's eyes gleamed. "I propositioned her days ago. Now I want to make it legal."
O'Reilly's round cheeks turned red. "I don't think you can do that."
Sam hadn't expected any other response. She looked from O'Reilly to Thomas. "You see, don't you?
Humanity has to face it sooner or later. What are self-aware formas constructs or people? Possession
or citizen?"
"If you mean our actions here will set a baseline for the future," Thomas said. "Then yes, I agree. All the
more reason to use caution."
Sam thought of Bart and the other EIs, forms of life different enough from her own that she only
fathomed the edges of their intelligence. Sunrise Alley. It would only grow larger and more powerful each
year. The alley would become a thoroughfare, a city, a world. A universe.
"If we make a mistake now," Sam said. "If we do this wrong, without foresight, we will set up the human
race for more grief than you can imagine. How you treat Turner now matters."
O'Reilly considered her thoughtfully. Then he spoke to Turner. "It is true, your DNA corresponds to
Turner William Pascal. I've no doubt you were made from him."
"I wasn't made from him," Turner said. "Iam him."
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"But where do you end?" O'Reilly asked. "How much can you be rebuilt before you are no longer a
man?"
"You're asking him to define the soul," Sam murmured. "Only God can do that."
"Perhaps," Thomas said. "Unfortunately we need a legal definition."
Turner regarded him steadily. "I feel no less as if I have a soul now than before the accident."
Sam went over to Thomas. "His limbs aren't that different from prosthetics. Many people have
transplanted or synthetic organs in their bodies. We consider them human."
"They don't have EI matrices for brains," Thomas said. "They don't run on microfusion reactors."
Turner spoke bitterly. "So I'm human if you replace my heart with a pump, even if it bears no
resemblance to my original heart, but I'm not human if my matrix is a copy of my original brain."
"It's become more." O'Reilly spread his hands out from his sides. "We don't have answers."
"Charon thinks he does," Turner said.
"He told you?" Sam asked. She couldn't tell how many of his memories about Charon came from the
copy he carried in his matrix and how much from his two weeks with Charon in Oregon. If Thomas
found out Turner had a copy of Charon in his mind, he would lock Turner up so tight, the former bellboy
wouldn't even be able to breathe without monitors recording every move of his muscles.
Turner was watching her face. After a pause that went on too long, he said, "Yes, Charon told me." He
had the restrained quality she recognized now; he was tweaking the truth. He had probably picked up
Charon's opinion from the copy in his matrix. That she could read Turner so well implied he was more
human than machine; otherwise, he could have simulatedless emotion, so he didn't give himself away.
Sam rubbed the back of her neck, working on the muscle kinks. "Thomas, I need to talk with Turner
alone."
"I don't think it is wise," Thomas said.
"Oh, why the hell not?" Sam said. "You're going to listen on monitors anyway."
The lights flickered.
"What the blazes?" Thomas spoke to one of the guards. "Lieutenant Dreymore, check that brownout
with operations."
"Right away, sir." The lieutenant turned over his hand, which was sheathed in a black glove, and traced
his finger over a panel woven in its mesh.
As Dreymore worked, Sam discreetly studied Turner. Was he tampering with the power here? If he ran
off from this place like he had from everywhere else, she was going to scorch his ears when she caught
up with him.
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Turner shook his head slightly, his face puzzled. He didn't seem to know what was happening any more
than she did.
Thomas was watching them. "I'd sure be curious to know what that exchange meant."
Sam flushed. Busted. Thomas could read her just as well as she could read him. "I wondered if Turner
caused that brownout. He said no."
Thomas glanced at the lieutenant. "Dreymore?"
The guard looked up from his glove. "Everything appears fine, sir. Just a power glitch."
"Keep checking," Thomas said.
"Yes, sir."
Thomas considered Turner. "My people say they can't even fully analyze all the systems in your body.
They think you've been shifting things around, building your own biomech components. Care to tell us
what you're doing?"
"Why?" Turner asked. "You'll keep at me until you figure it out anyway."
"We don't want to cause you harm," O'Reilly said. "Neither physical nor emotional."
Turner's gaze became intent. "Then you admit it is possible to cause a forma emotional harm."
"At this point," O'Reilly said, "I don't know what to think. But yes, I acknowledge it."
The lights went off.
Thomas spoke sharply. "Dreymore, what's going on?"
The glow of Dreymore's glove lit the room. "The situation is under control, sir. The submesh that runs the
environment for this building is having problems. Security is on it. They'll have the lights back in a
moment."
Sam slanted a look at Turner. He seemed as baffled as everyone else, but she couldn't be sure. At
Hockman, the element of surprise had given him an edge in his escape; in Iowa, the EIs had inadvertently
helped when they linked him into their mesh. He no longer had surprise here and the NIA wouldn't
willingly give him access to any mesh. This place undoubtedly blocked wireless signals. And Thomas's
people would have already incorporated new defenses into their systems to counter what Turner had
done at Hockman.
Thomas studied Turner. "You have anything to do with this?"
Turner met his gaze. "No. Nothing."
The lights came back on.
"Keep on it, Lieutenant," Thomas told Dreymore. "I'll need a full report as soon as possible." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]