Inhuman (5)

To read from the beginning: part one, part two, part three, part four.

(5)

“Set them free? You mean, like out into the world?” Amanda asked, her voice shaking.

Nathan nodded and taking her arm, led her away from the android stations. “Let me introduce you to Dr. Leo Knight.” He picked up a remote and aimed it at the large video monitor on the wall. A face filled the screen. It was a pleasant face –male, bald, wearing wire-framed glasses and a neatly trimmed beard. The doctor appeared to be middle aged or older, Amanda wasn’t sure. With a smile on his lips and laugh lines at the corner of his eyes, Dr. Knight looked more like a kindly uncle than mad scientist.

“Dr. Knight is the man who developed the adaptable AI software, the lifelike synthetic skin and the humanoid bodily functions. Among other things, his androids can eat and eliminate food, even though they don’t need to. They simulate breathing, they cough and sneeze in response to environmental factors, and their processors recognize appropriate times for sleeping and waking. All those little details make them seem more human,” Nathan explained. “Once the androids were cleared from the beta trials, they would be embedded into the army as regular soldiers. If they performed well in the field tests, the military would be able to eventually replace human soldiers with these AI units.”

“No one anticipated just how ‘human’ the androids would become. Dr. Knight’s software turned out to be a little too adaptable,” Alexander said. “The androids were physically superb and certainly fearless, but they weren’t ruthless enough.”

“How so?” Amanda asked.

“They showed mercy,” he said. “They ignored orders to kill.”

“The director asked Dr. Knight to find the glitch and fix it. Turn off the conscience, if you will,” Lydia told her. “He balked at the idea. The fact that the androids were behaving in such a way gave evidence of life, he claimed. And no one had the right to take that away from them.”

“But the director insisted that they were machines, with no rights, no matter how lifelike they seemed,” Alexander continued. “He ordered the modifications and Leo began work, seeming to comply.”

“But what he was really doing was giving them memories, altering their programming so that they would actually believe they were humans, with families and a lifetime of experiences,” Nathan said. “He gave them names, chose real families whose circumstances couldn’t easily be uncovered.”

“You mean no close relatives? Dead parents? That kind of thing?” Amanda asked.

“Exactly. Any superficial investigation wouldn’t turn up anything suspect.”

“There was a problem with the new programming, however,” Alexander said. “We still haven’t found the source of the fault, but it’s buried within the sleep program.”

“The nightmares…” Amanda murmured.

“Yes, that is how it manifests,” he agreed. “Some remnant of code from the military programs, a response to close quarters fighting or something —that’s where we’re searching at least— seems to be triggered during simulated sleep. It builds to a climax and is shut down by some internal feedback loop.”

“The low hum. I noticed some kind of electronic tone just as Brian would settle down,” Amanda said.

“Right. We think that’s the upper limit warning on the program. For some reason, it only occurs once each sleep cycle. In ordinary feedback loops, the process might begin again when the signal falls below the threshold level, but that isn’t happening here. That’s why we are restoring the entire system to default mode,” Nathan said. “And that is why it is absolutely vital that we find the other missing androids.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. “How many more are there?”

“Two. Units One and Four are still out there. And so far there’s no sign of them.”

“You see, unless they get in some kind of trouble or end up seeking medical attention like Unit Two… er, Brian, we can’t track them.”

“The other android you found… what happened to him?” she asked.

Nathan scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ah, it was bad…”

“He was pulled over while driving,” Lydia said, scowling. “The cop made him get out of the car. Said Unit Three made a threatening move and he shot him. Of course, the bullets never pierced his internal armor and he didn’t even bleed. The cop freaked out and kept firing. Emptied his entire gun into him.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Fortunately, we monitor all police bands and one of our teams was able to get him released into their custody,” Nathan concluded.

“You see why we need to find them? Not only for the safety of the general public, but also for their own safety,” Lydia said.

“And Dr. Knight is the only person who knows the identities of the androids. Who they are, where they are, what kind of work they’re doing. But so far, he’s not cooperating,” Alexander added. “We were hoping to enlist your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes. Dr. Knight needs to hear just how dangerous his creations have become. He won’t take our word for it, but he might just listen to you.” He gestured to her fading bruises. “The evidence is written all over your face.”

To be continued…

Inhuman (3)

To read from the beginning, visit Part One and Part Two.

(3)

Cold. Amanda woke up shivering, which was just about the only movement she could make. Her arms and legs were strapped to the bars of a hospital bed and another strap across her chest made sitting up impossible. She was alone. The room was windowless, dimly lit and empty save for a lone metal chair and the bed in which she lay. How long had she been out? Where was she? And where was Brian?

“Hello? Is anybody there?” she called out. After a few moments, the door opened and a man walked in. She expected a doctor —that was the hospital bed, she supposed— but the man wore a well-tailored dark suit.

“Hello, Amanda,” he said with a smile. “Sorry about the restraints but we didn’t want you wandering aimlessly until we had a chance to talk.”

“Where’s Brian? Where is my husband?” she demanded, struggling against the straps holding her down.

His smile faded. “That is the central thing we need to discuss.” He took a step closer. “I’m going to take you someplace where you’ll be a little more comfortable. I need you to trust me, ok?”

Amanda nodded wordlessly. She wanted answers. No, she needed them. She would at least cooperate until she had them.

“My name is Nathan Bishop,” he told her as he removed the restraints from her feet. “Get up slowly. You might be a little woozy from the anaesthetic.” After releasing her hands and the strap across her chest, he stepped back to wait by the door. “Your shoes are by the side of the bed. Take your time.”

Amanda swung her legs over the side and gingerly stepped into her shoes. After she was sure she could stand upright, she took a tentative step toward the door. Nathan took her arm firmly —either for support or control, Amanda couldn’t tell which— and led her from the room. They followed a long hallway, interrupted occasionally by other solid doors with no indication of what lay beyond, until they reached an intersection and turned left. Shortly after, the tributary terminated at a pair of double doors. Nathan, till holding Amanda’s arm, stepped close to a small panel beside the door and waited while his retina was scanned. The doors slid open with a soft whoosh.

The room beyond was half conference room, half lounge, with a large oblong table and chairs at one end, and a seating area with three sofas forming a U-shape clustered around a low table on the other. It was to this second area, Nathan led her. A woman and another man rose as they approached. “Amanda, this is Lydia Castle and Alexander King.” They each offered a hand to shake. “Please have a seat,” Nathan said.

“Amanda. Where to begin?” Lydia said with a warm smile. “I’m sure…”

“Where is my husband?” Amanda interrupted. “What have you done with him?”

Lydia held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “We have a long story to tell you. Please bear with us. You see, Brian… well he’s not who you think he is…” she paused, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “In fact, he’s not even ‘what’ you think he is.”

Amanda felt the blood drain from her face and she gripped the sofa cushions for support. “What do you mean?” she rasped.

The man called Alexander spoke. “Amanda, Brian is… well, he’s a highly advanced… em… highly advanced artificial intelligence.”

The room spun. Nathan reached out to steady her. Amanda looked from one to the other to the other, trying to absorb what she’d just heard. “No. It can’t be…” she began. “He’s human. He’s as human as I am.”

Lydia shook her head sadly. “No, I’m afraid he’s not. Brian —or as he is officially called: SAIW-02— is property of the United States Government.” She hurried on as Amanda gaped at her. “Amanda, just let us explain…”

Alexander sighed heavily. “Amanda, throughout history, it’s been the military that has been the biggest driver of scientific innovation. Until recently, it’s been about developing the most efficient ways to kill. Bigger bombs, better targeting, stealthier planes. We already have the means to destroy this planet many times over. Now…” he lifted his hands and let them drop. “The focus has begun to shift.”

Lydia continued. “It’s about preserving lives instead of taking them. Keeping our military personnel as safe as possible. I’ll give you an example you’ll be familiar with: drone technology. We can send a remotely controlled drone to take out a target when in the past we’d send pilots in planes and risk them being shot down. If a drone gets taken out, no lives are lost.”

“The truth is, Amanda, our technological advances are far ahead of anything the public has dreamt up. The world isn’t ready for civilian applications of this kind of science,” Alexander said. “The SAIW program is the next step in innovation.”

“What does that stand for? SAIW?” Amanda asked.

“Strategic Artificial Intelligence Weapon,” Nathan answered.

“Amanda, your ‘Brian’ is an android super soldier,” Lydia said.

To be continued…

Fiction Writing Is Not a Roll Call

A common mistake many new writers make is to inundate the reader with unnecessary information or too much information all at once. In writing circles it’s called infodump. It might manifest as a roll call of characters, lengthy biographical history as each one is introduced, overly detailed scene setting or world building. It happens because writers want their readers to understand the context of unfolding events. While the writer’s intentions are good, it bogs down the pace of the story and it doesn’t leave the reader with questions that need to be answered by reading on.

Imagine reading this paragraph:

Jennifer Dunne was a 28 year old woman whose mother had just died, but since they never had a very close relationship, Jennifer was not able to cry at her funeral. Her elderly father was her only source of comfort growing up and she followed in his footsteps by becoming an engineer and going to work in his company. Jennifer has two best friends, Des and Joni, who she has known since grade school and they are as close as sisters would be. They all live in Doylestown, the county seat of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, which is an hour north of Philadelphia. (Are you bored yet?)

My first draft of Three Empty Frames wasn’t quite that bad, but I did an awful lot of infodumping on my first try at novel writing. The thing is… all that information eventually got included in the story but in small doses as the information became relevant to the plot.

One of my chief methods of incorporating detail into the story, especially the biographical history of the characters, is through dialogue. In the fictional world as in the real world, when people talk, they tell one another about themselves. When boy meets girl or girl meets girl or whatever, it is only natural for the pair to begin to share personal information. Even then, it wouldn’t be natural for the character to tell his entire life story, but just a few memories can reveal a great deal about the person and what makes them tick. The same is true with their conversational style and delivery. The way they talk will give the reader clues as to their personality without having to describe it intimate detail:

Jen was smart and loyal but guarded, keeping all but her close friends at arms’ length. Her sense of humor was sarcastic and as a result, she often offended people unintentionally. (Readers will figure this out on their own as they see how Jen relates to others; they don’t need it spelled out for them.)

The same is true of your setting. The location doesn’t need to be described in meticulous detail as the story opens. However, in just a few words, the scene can be set:

“It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen.” ~ 1984; George Orwell.

Just from that opening line, we know the weather and time of year but we also know something’s up because our clocks don’t strike thirteen. It’s only later on that we discover the full extent of Orwell’s dystopian vision, yet, the season and time of day are described clearly. And establishing place and time is an important feature to include within the first few paragraphs of a story. It orients the reader, connecting them to the fictional world. Nevertheless, the details can be saved for later. This includes the size of the town or its population, its proximity to another metropolitan area, the main industry of the region (if that even matters) and its infrastructure: busy highways, high-rise apartments, public transportation versus narrow streets, quaint houses and mountain views. Just an aside —the bit about ‘clocks striking thirteen’ is one of those mysterious details that compels the reader to continue. We should all aspire to create such a hook at the start of the story!

Things can get tricky when your story has a big cast of characters. In order to distinguish one from another, you might feel obilgated to write a lengthy biography to fix each one in the reader’s mind. But really, if the character is not central to the plot, this is irrelevant filler material. For minor characters, a unique and memorable name might be enough to set them apart from the main players. Some minor characters don’t even need to be named. For example, Jen might just refer to ‘her boss’ rather than ‘Harry, a fifty year old chief engineer in her department who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and is well liked by all his employees’. Seriously, who cares? Unless Harry is going to have a larger role later on, there is no need to expound on his qualities as a boss. Additionally, if you do have a big cast of characters, don’t introduce all of them in Chapter One. Bring each one onto the stage as their appearances become integral to the plot. For example, your mystery story might have a detective investigate the crime, but if the story is built around the victims of the crime then the detective doesn’t need to show up until several chapters in. A late introduction doesn’t automatically diminish the minor character’s importance to the story. While the main characters should be introduced early, so that the reader can establish a relationship with them, the rest of the cast can enter as they become relevant.

The tendency to infodump is a difficult one to overcome. Nevertheless, with awareness and practice it can be managed and mastered.

Wishing you happy writing and productive editing.

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