For Want of a Nail Read online

  “What? Talk sense, Rava. Who didn’t know you?

  “Uncle Georgo. There’s something wrong with him . . .” Her voice trailed off, the weight of her suspicions too heavy to be supported by voice. “Will you . . . will you come with me?”

  Ludoviko opened his mouth, lip already curling with whatever insult he was preparing.

  “Please.”

  He blinked and let his breath out in a huff. “Jesus, Rava. This really has you freaked. No one is going to fire you.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not worried about that.” She glanced away from Cordelia’s inert cameras. “Would you come with me?”

  “Yeah.Yeah, I’ll come.”

  Her brother might drive her mad, but oddly, having someone who disliked her so much was comforting. It was a known quantity and that, at the moment, was a welcome thing.

  ***

  Uncle Georgo did not answer when she knocked on his door. She waited, counting the seconds as people walked past, until Ludoviko reached past her and pounded on the door, making it bounce in its tracks. The speaker crackled into life and her uncle’s voice quavered out. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Rava.”

  “And Ludoviko.”

  She sighed. “I brought Cordelia.”

  The door opened and Uncle Georgo peered out with obvious distrust. His hair was disheveled and a streak of brown stained his shirt from chest to navel. His gaze darted to the corner of his glasses and back to look past Rava. “Where is she?”

  This was not right. Rava cocked her head, squinting with concentration. She held the chassis out a little way from her chest. “She’s right here.”

  He huffed, running his hand through his hair so it stood on end. “Don’t see her.”

  Ludoviko said, “Didn’t Rava tell you? Cordelia can’t download her memories because Rava dropped her. She’s sleeping to save space.”

  Nice to know that his willingness to help didn’t change his pattern of insults.“May I come in?” Rava took a step toward the door.

  Her uncle chewed on his bottom lip, head tilted to the side in his usual pose, but his eyes darted around searching for something. In his hesitation, Rava decided to push forward. He retreated as she crossed the threshold. His quarters were a mess, clothes and bedding strewn across the room as if he’d pulled all his belongings out of the drawers. His desk was in the same spot as hers, so she pushed a wrinkled shirt off and set Cordelia’s chassis down.

  Putting her finger on the wake up button, Rava pressed, the click vibrating under her finger as a gentle chime rang.

  Before it had faded, Cordelia’s cameras rotated to her and her head and shoulders appeared above the chassis. “Success?”

  Georgo sobbed, “Cordelia!” He reached past Rava, fingers trembling.

  Rava kept her gaze fixed on Cordelia, whose image didn’t change. At all. For an AI programmed to act human, she became awfully rigid. Her face stayed fixed on Georgo, but the cameras flicked to Rava for a moment, then away. She softened and her image morphed so the high neck of the Victorian gown sank to reveal most of her bosom.

  Her lashes lengthened and her lips became full and pouting. “Georgo, honey, what have you done with your room?” Her voice was sultry.

  “I was looking for you.” He held his hands out to his sides. “Why did you leave me?”

  “I needed to get you a present.You like presents, right?”

  He nodded, like a little boy. The confident, haughty man Rava knew had vanished. She trembled and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Good. Now, lie down for your nap and I’ll give you the present later.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  Ludoviko stepped around Rava and leaned in close to Cordelia. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Years Rava had spent studying Cordelia’s built-in mannerisms made the AI’s tiny hesitation stand out like a flag. “I am afraid that is confidential information between me and one of my users.”

  Rava shook her head. She didn’t like Ludoviko’s manner, but that didn’t change the fact that Cordelia was dodging questions. She swallowed and put her hand on Cordelia’s interface, setting her thumb on the print reader. “Authorized report.What is Uncle Georgo’s status?”

  Cordelia lowered her head, biting her lip. “He has dementia.”

  “No.” Ludoviko laughed, breath catching in his throat. “I talked to him yesterday and he most certainly does not.” The air purifiers beat in the silence in the room.

  “Look, he’d have gone to recycling if he weren’t productive anymore. It’s the most basic law of conservation of resources.”

  “You’ve been covering for him, haven’t you?” Rava’s whole body was shaking, but her voice sounded flat and dead.

  “Yes.”

  The need to respond pressed her throat shut. What could she say in the face of this? Cordelia had lied to them, and lied repeatedly. Dementia.

  Ludoviko’s hand fell on Rava’s shoulder, pulling her out of the way. “How long?”

  “I don’t know.” Cordelia’s voice verged on inaudible.

  “Bullshit.” He slapped the table beside her, jarring her chassis with the impact.

  Uncle Georgo jumped forward and grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch her!”

  Enraged, Ludoviko shrugged him off. Uncle Georgo reached for Cordelia, hands scrabbling. Ludoviko flat-handed him in the chest, pushing with the full brunt of his strength. The breath coughed out of Uncle Georgo. He crumpled to the floor with a cry.

  “Ludoviko!” Rava interposed herself between her brother and her uncle. “What are you doing?”

  Ludoviko leveled his finger at Uncle Georgo, who cowered. “I fucking want to know how long this has been happening.”

  “Leave him alone.” Rava wanted to know too, but attacking Uncle Georgo, who was clearly out of his mind— she balked at the thought. If he had dementia, he should have been recycled long ago.

  “Are you paying attention, Rava? Our AI is breaking the law.” He spun, tendons in his neck standing out in cords of rage. “How long has he been like this?”

  Raising her head, Cordelia glared down her nose at him. “I do not know. The start date is recorded in my long term memory.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Ludoviko flexed his fists open and closed as if he were five years old and wanted to hit something. “You’re lying.”

  Cordelia leaned forward, her gentle Victorian face distorting with rage. “I can’t lie. Mislead, yes, but not lie. If you don’t want to know the truth, don’t ask me to report with direct questions.You have no idea. No idea what my existence is like.”

  Though Cordelia’s form was a hologram, Rava could not shake the feeling that she was about to step off her dais and slap Ludoviko.

  “Was it last month? Was it three months ago? You must have some clue.”

  “I do not know.”

  “Ludoviko, what does it matter?”

  Sweat dotted his brow. “It matters because if she’s been covering for our dear uncle, then she’s the one who’s been keeping me from reproducing.”

  The air pump whined as it circulated the air in the room. “What?”

  “You didn’t know Uncle Georgo was on the repro committee?” He smirked. “Of course not. As a girl, it’s your biological imperative to reproduce. You have to keep your womb warm and ready to go. Not me. I have to beg to be allowed to spill my seed in some test tube on the off-chance someone will want it.” Ludoviko glared at Cordelia. “My application was denied on grounds that my personality was unstable. Exactly how unstable would you like me to be?”

  “I have no memory of this.”

  He cracked his neck, glaring at her. “That’s convenient.”

  “If you want an answer, I suggest you help your sister find a cable.”

  “Right.” Rava patted her uncle on the shoulder, trying to soothe the sobbing man. “Cordelia, do whatever it is you do to make Uncle Georgo seem normal. Then he can tell us where the inventory is and we can get the
cable.”

  The bark of laughter that broke from Cordelia startled Rava with its bitterness.

  “Don’t you understand yet? I have been using his VR glasses to feed him lines every time he speaks. He only knows what I know and I don’t remember where the inventory is.”

  “Why? Why have you been covering for him? Report.”

  Cordelia’s eyes sparked with fury. “My report, O Wrangler, is that Georgo would go to the recycler if the family council found him to be without use or purpose. I have kept him useful.”

  “No, I get that. Why keep him out of the recycler?” Rava struggled to understand. “I don’t want to go either, but if none of us went, the ship would be overrun and we’d all starve. I mean, you and Uncle Georgo were two of the people who taught me the law of conservation. So why break the law?”

  Above her, Ludoviko stilled,waiting for the answer. The only sound came from Uncle Georgo, who rocked on the floor, sobbing. Snot and tears steamed down his face unheeded.

  The AI’s mask of confidence slipped. “I do not remember. I only remember that it is important to keep him alive and to keep it a secret.”

  “Well, it’s not a secret anymore, is it?” Ludoviko’s lip twisted in distaste as he stared at his uncle.

  “I suppose.” Cordelia narrowed her eyes. “I suppose that depends on whether or not you tell anyone else. May I suggest that whatever reason I had was strong enough to overcome my programming about the law? It might be wise not to act precipitously to change things.”

  Rava hesitated. There was something to that. An AI had unbreakable taboos built into it that were even stronger than the childhood responses that were trained into her. Cordelia had to obey the law. “Hang on.”A thought struck her. “Your compulsions are tied to the ship’s master log of law. If you can’t transmit, how do you know what the laws are?”

  “I have a copy in my onboard read-only memory and it syncs at every update.”

  Which was too bad. Rava had been hoping for a backup transmitter she could hack into. She shook her head to rid it of that faint hope. “How much time do you have left before your next backup is scheduled?”

  “An hour and a half.” Cordelia looked up and to the left, to indicate she was calculating. “But with only a single feed, I have more time than I’d normally have in memory. We might have a week before I have to start pruning.”

  Rava felt some of the tension winding through her joints relax. She’d been so worried about having to dump things.

  “Yeah.” Ludoviko rapped his fist on the wall to get their attention. “Hello? That’s great that you won’t have to dump any memory, Cordelia, but in the meantime our lives are going unrecorded. What do you suggest we do about that?”

  “You could try writing it down,” Rava beamed at her brother. “Or you could not worry about it since you won’t have any descendants who care.”

  Her brother’s face turned a blotchy red and he took a step toward her, raising his fist. “So no one will record this, will they?”

  “I’m still here.” Cordelia’s voice snapped through the room. “I am still watching.”

  “Fine.” Ludoviko lowered his arm. “But I’m going to tell the family what Rava did.”

  “By all means. Track down each and every person by walking through the whole ship to find them. Or wait until I’ve fixed Cordelia.”

  “Cordelia?” Uncle Georgo lifted his head. “I don’t understand what is happening.”

  “Georgo, Georgo . . .” Cordelia’s voice promised soothing and comfort. “It is time for your nap. That is all that has happened.You have missed your nap.”

  Rava watched as Cordelia used her voice to coax Uncle Georgo upright and then to wash his face and put himself to bed. The irritability and absent-mindedness she had seen her uncle exhibit returned, but now she could hear the hidden part of his life. Cordelia coaxed him to everything he did almost like a puppeteer with a shadow figure. It created the illusion of life, but her uncle was an empty figure.

  ***

  The corridors had begun filling with the shift change crowd as Rava slipped through the door of the consignment shop. Behind the counter, Petro sat on a stool reading, his bald head gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat as if he’d been running.

  Tidy ranks of shelves and racks filled the room, each covered with the castoffs of generations, arranged into categories. Long sleeve shirts, paper, pens, cables, and a single silver tea service. Every family had brought only what they thought they would need, but even with finite resources, fashions changed.

  “Hey, lady!” Petro grinned, wrinkles remapping his face as he tucked his reader into his coverall pocket. “What news?”

  “News is the same. And you?” As always, Rava was relieved that he still had useful work and hadn’t hit the recycling point himself.

  He shrugged his shoulders with a laugh. “The same, the same. So you looking for anything specific or browsing?”

  She hefted the AI’s chassis. “I brought Cordelia to look at cables.”

  He hopped off the stool and waddled across the room, beckoning her to follow. “See this row? Every one of these goes to a different machine and every one of them has a proprietary plug. The ones in these four boxes have plugs that fit the ship, but your guess is as good as mine about what kind of plug your AI uses.”

  Rava swallowed. “Thanks, Petro. I’ll browse then.”

  He wiped at his brow. “Ping me if you need anything.”

  Between the towering shelves, Rava set Cordelia’s chassis on the floor. She pulled out the box of cables and sat on the floor beside the AI’s silent frame. The cables were bound in bundles, each of which had a fat hexagon on one end. The other ends varied wildly. Some were tiny silver tubes, others were square. One seemed to be an adhesive electrode. She pulled the cables out and tried them one by one. The third one slotted neatly into the port on Cordelia’s back.

  Rising, she cradled Cordelia’s chassis to her like one of her nieces or nephews. The cable dangled like a tail. She trotted down the aisles to Petro. “You got a hookup here?”

  He lifted his brows in surprise. “For hardwiring? I was wondering what you wanted a cable for.” Hopping off the stool, he led her behind the counter of the consignment shop to a wall terminal. “Here you go.”

  Rava set Cordelia’s chassis on the floor, but the cable was a little too short to reach the terminal. Petro solved it by bringing his stool to them. “Pesky things, those cables. Small wonder people stopped using them.”

  “Yeah.” Rava feigned a laugh. “Still, I’ll take this one. Charge it to my account?”

  “Sure.” Petro looked from her to Cordelia and finally seemed to recognize that the AI was dormant. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

  When he had walked away, Rava pushed the wake-up button. The cameras swiveled to face her as the AI’s eyelids fluttered in a programmed betrayal of her feelings. Her projected face was flushed and her breath seemed quicker. “Ah.Yes, yes, I’m connected now. Give me a moment while I manage the backlog.”

  Rava did not want to wait, not even a moment. She wanted this nightmare to be over and done with and for Cordelia to be connected again by wireless, as she should be. And then she wanted to know what to do about Uncle Georgo.

  Her handy pinged with five different messages. Before she could open them, Cordelia said, “There are four transmitters in storage. I’m sending the storage unit information to your handy.”

  “Thanks.” Rava flicked it open and scanned the message. The others were delayed messages from family members wanting to know what was happening with Cordelia.Wincing, Rava wrote a quick summary of the problem with the transmitter. “Will you broadcast this to the family?”

  Cordelia nodded and, so fast that it might have been an extension of Rava’s own thought, the message went out.

  Bracing herself, Rava checked behind her for Petro. He was far enough away that she had little fear of being overheard and more privacy here than in her own quarters. “Tell me abou
t Uncle Georgo.”

  “What about him?” Cordelia raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side with the question.

  Rava gaped. “The dementia? How long have you been covering for him?”

  Cordelia frowned and shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. I am not sure what you are asking about.”

  Alarm bells went off in Rava’s head. “Did you perform a full sync?”

  “Of course. After being offline all afternoon, it was the first thing I did.” Cordelia’s brows bent together in concern. “Rava, are you all right?”

  Rava could hardly breathe. “Fine. Hey, can you set my handy so it shows the names to go with the numbers?”

  “Done.”

  “Thank you.” Rava snatched the cable from the wall.

  Cordelia gasped as if struck. “What are you doing?”

  “Something has overwritten your memories.”

  “That isn’t possible, dear.”

  “No? Then tell me about the conversation that you and I and Ludoviko had in Uncle Georgo’s apartment.”

  “Well . . . if you plug me in to the system, so I can access long-term memory, I could do that.”

  “This happened less than half an hour ago.”

  Cordelia blinked. “No, it didn’t.”

  “I was there.” Rava lifted Cordelia, hugging the chassis to her chest. “I remember, even if you don’t.”

  ***

  Rava trembled as she sat in the family council chambers. Ludoviko lounged in his chair, with apparent comfort, but she could smell the sweat dampening his shirt. The eight aunts and uncles who sat on the council had been quiet through her entire recitation. Only Uncle Georgo’s seat sat empty. Her words dried when she had finished and she waited to hear their reaction.

  Aunt Fajra removed her steepled fingers from her lips. “Two years, you say?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Two years ago, buried in an update, Uncle Georgo had slipped in a program that added a law to Cordelia’s copy of the official shipwide laws. He’d seen the dementia coming and acted to save himself.