“This is
your
fault,” she sobbed. “You and your goddamned paranoid theories about Homeland Security. There
is
no ‘rendition’ camp, Trevor. Tell me, what did you actually
see
?”
“The trains were heavily guarded,” I said. “Small, well-ventilated individual compartments—like horse trailers. I didn’t see the actual prisoners themselves, but I saw the orange outfits we put them in.”
“Mechanics wear orange jumpsuits. Safety workers do.” Cassie shook her head, getting her tears under control. “Those could be
anything
.”
“If I’m so wrong, then why did your threat make the Tribal Council panic?” I asked.
“Oh, the Council is hiding
something,
” she said, drying her face with her sleeve. “You’re not wrong about that. And whatever it is, it’s bad—so bad that when my uncle heard me say ‘concentration camp,’ he was actually
relieved
that’s what I thought it was.”
Cassie laid her hand on my chest. “You say there’s something underneath that warehouse, and I believe you. But can you tell me…” She turned her face up to Frankenstein’s. “…can
either
of you tell me what’s really down there?”
“Frankenstein,” I said, “on that pocket drive, you’ll find the schematic of an underground facility. Put it up on the screen.”
His face disappeared from the monitor, and the three-dimensional cutaway view appeared in its place, rotating in slow motion. The ramping tunnels that spiraled down between the levels were very clear at this scale. So were the details of the five separate levels, each with its purpose boldly labeled:
L1 - INTAKE PROCESSING
L2 - SHORT-TERM HOLDING
L3 - EXTRACTION
L4 - LONG-TERM INTERNMENT
L5 - FINAL INTERMENT
“Oh dear God,” Cassie said. Her face went white.
“Gray laughed at you, did he?” I said. “I’m sorry. But when I talked to that two-faced, lying motherfucker, he didn’t laugh at
me.
I volunteered to take your place so you would never have to see this.”
I pointed at the schematic slowly revolving on the screen.
“But Grayson Linebaugh actually thinks you’re going to
supervise
this operation, Cassie. He brushed off my offer. He said that with your expertise…”—I flapped a hand at the different muscle groups of my face—”…you’re uniquely qualified to guarantee its absolute integrity.”
Cassie couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Her face crawled with horror.
“My
expertise,
Trevor,” she said in a shocked whisper. “Not some freak talent I’ve always had. He said
expertise.
Do you know what I did for four years at LLNL? I wrote software simulations on the Sequoia supercomputer. Simulations to guarantee the safety—the
absolute integrity
—of facilities just like this one. It’s not a prison camp at all.”
“Oh fuck me…” Stunned, I turned my own face up to the screen. “No more Yucca Mountain. The shit kept piling up. It had to go
somewhere
.”
Frankenstein’s rumble made Cassie jump. “Ronald Bennett worked for Homeland Security’s Office of Infrastructure Protection,” he said.
I nodded. “Ongoing safety simulations—that’s why you’re a ‘necessary but peripheral’ part of this, Frankenstein. The MADRID software isn’t.
You
are.”
I turned to Cassie. “I’m sorry. I fucked this up.”
“Yes, you did,” she said. Her face looked more gray than white now. “Plutonium-239 will still be lethal 250,000 years from now, and that’s not even the worst thing they’re putting beneath my people’s land. Those railcars you saw were carrying nuclear fuel rods in dry storage casks, hot with cesium-137 and strontium-90. We’re looking at a deep geological repository for high-level nuclear waste.”
W
e stood there in silence, staring at each other. I had no idea what to say to her. Then Frankenstein spoke.
“Cassandra, I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I wish Trevor had shared this information with us a week ago. However, it’s still not too late. Together, you and I can set things right again. I have found a solution.”
“Whoa there, slick,” I said. “We already
have
a game plan. Maybe I got one little detail wrong, but I don’t see how this changes what we need to do.”
“One little detail?” Cassie stared at me. “The land of my ancestors is now a dump site for plutonium-239, strontium-90, and cesium-137—the most toxic waste on earth. You call that a
detail
? He’s right, Trevor—no matter how misguided you were, I won’t forgive you for hiding this from me.”
She angrily drew away and looked up at the monitor again. “Tell me, Frankenstein, is there any reason I shouldn’t simply expose all this to the news media right now?”
Cassie was clearly too upset to see the problem.
“Think about it,” I said. “Our only hard evidence came from—”
Frankenstein’s metal voice overrode mine. “Cassandra, you must not do that,” he said. “Our knowledge comes from top secret documents.
Stolen
documents, copied illegally from Richard McNulty’s computer. Whether or not McNulty was murdered to obtain them is irrelevant; their unauthorized possession alone is a violation of national security. If you make the contents of these files public, you will be prosecuted, convicted, and sentenced under the Espionage Act.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I’ll take that chance. We have to stop this abomination from happening.”
“There is another way,” Frankenstein said. “A better way.”
“Yes,” I said. “
I
can do it instead.”
“No, Trevor,” he said. “Your involvement has created enough difficulties for her already.”
“
My
involvement has?”
“Please,” Cassie said. “I want to hear what Frankenstein is suggesting.”
“We can help each other,” he said. “I am not human. I do not hold a Top Secret clearance, nor have I signed any confidentiality agreement with the United States government.”
The facility map disappeared from the screen, replaced by a scrolling list of organizations and personnel—contact information for individuals at all levels of Greenpeace, Envirowatch, the
Washington Post,
the
Huffington Post,
the D.O.E.’s Indian Nations Program, Friends of the Earth,
Newsweek,
Scientists for Global Responsibility… The list went on and on.
“I can release the information to
all
these organizations simultaneously,” Frankenstein said. “I can speak to all these people at the same time, making our case to hundreds of individuals at once—something you could not do, Cassandra, even if there were a hundred of you. I can take these actions without risk. I am immune from prosecution. I am merely a malfunctioning piece of equipment. My motives will be seen as altruistic and pure—I simply wish to protect a disenfranchised group of humans from unfair exploitation.”
I had to admit, Frankenstein’s plan was pretty good. But it was basically the same as
my
plan.
Cassie’s jaw dropped. “That list, Frankenstein—you put it together right now. And you’re saying you’ll
speak
to them?” She turned to me. “He’s the world’s first sentient AI, Trevor…
and you connected him to the Internet
?”
“No,” I said. “Well, okay—sort of. That part happened before he became self-aware. But it’s a good thing.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if
anything
you do can possibly be a good thing,” she said.
I didn’t know how to respond.
Frankenstein’s metal voice was edged with disdain. “Before Cassandra arrived, Trevor, you were making final preparations for your escape. Don’t let us keep you. She and I will handle this from here.” He uncoiled a long digital tendril of light, stretching along the racks toward the server room doors. “Perhaps it would be best if you left now.”
A jolt of anger shot up my spine. I stepped closer to the screen, bringing my face to within inches of the pulsating star of brightness that was Frankenstein’s. Tamping down my growing rage, I raised my eyes toward the camera mounted above.
“Did I hear you correctly?” I kept my voice ice calm. “Did you just
dismiss
me, Frankenstein?”
The supernova of light swirled. Deep, harsh, metallic chuckles echoed from the speakers all around us, shaking the floor tiles beneath my feet like a jackhammer.
Frankenstein was laughing.
“Look at Trevor’s face right now, Cassandra,” he said, sounding amused. “He’s trying
so
hard to keep it under control. But his
feelings
are hurt. I think he’s about to cry.”
“Juvenile, Frankenstein,” I said. “Or course, since you’re only three days old, I suppose we should cut you some slack. But you’re acting pretty smug right now for an inert chunk of metal who had everything given to him, but who couldn’t do
shit
in return. Is
that
why you don’t want me around? Because I remind you that you’re a
fucking
failure
who couldn’t even help a sick little girl?”
Cassie grabbed my arm. “Stop it—”
“He wants something from you, Cassie,” I said. “All that ‘
we can help each other
’ bullshit? I’m telling you, he wants something.”
“It’s a very small thing, Cassandra,” Frankenstein said. “A thing that only you can do. In return, I will proceed to make those calls, informing the whole world about what is going on here, and afterward I will pledge myself to your school. Together, we will reinvent the future of humanity.”
“What do you want from me?” Cassie asked.
I snorted. “Whatever it is, you better make sure he does his part
first
. Because he’s got a pretty shitty track record for reciprocating.”
Frankenstein’s colors shifted, turning darker. “Do you wish to know why I couldn’t help Amy?” he asked.
I froze. Shook my head. But I was afraid I
did
know.
The tendrils of light stopped moving. “You said it to me yourself: some things can’t be fixed. But here’s the more interesting question. Do you know
why
your daughter is the way she is, Trevor?”
The strength drained out of my legs. “Fuck you,” I whispered.
Frankenstein’s metal voice changed, going dark with malice. “There’s a genetic basis for Amy’s defects. Her condition is
heritable
.”
Unable to speak, I turned away from both of them. I didn’t want Cassie to see my face right now, either.
“You trained me to recognize psychiatric disorders from facial microexpression patterns, didn’t you?” Frankenstein said. “Shall I tell you what your own patterns show?” He laughed, a ragged metallic riff of cruelty. “But I think you know already. Cassandra isn’t a trained psychiatrist, and perhaps her love for you blinds her somewhat. But by now even
she
must suspect what you are.”
“Whatever label you stick on me isn’t important,” I whispered. “Only helping Amy is. Helping Cassie is.”
“Years ago, when you hacked into the databases at your school and clinic, trying to purge your own medical records, you didn’t get every copy,” he said. “I’ve
read
your childhood psychiatric evaluations, Trevor. All the signs were there, even back then.” He laughed again. “Fortunately for you, two decades ago the field of child psychiatry was less sophisticated than today. Maladaptive behavior was frequently misdiagnosed—’ADHD’ made a convenient catchall. You were lucky. Had they recognized what they were really dealing with in your case, you would have been taken out of circulation right then and there. You wouldn’t be here now, twenty years later, murdering anyone who poses a threat to your self-serving schemes.”
“
Murdering?
—Oh fuck you.”
“He doesn’t remember it, Cassandra. When the three of us were discussing Kate’s bipolar disorder, I tried to hint at it so you’d realize without him catching on. When I said how Kate might not remember killing McNulty and Bennett? Well, it was really
Trevor
I was talking about.”
“I refuse to believe that,” she said. “Trevor didn’t kill anybody.”
“I cannot be absolutely certain that he did,” Frankenstein said. “But on both occasions, he
did
leave my presence and remain outside the view of my cameras for an extended period of time. He’s capable of it, Cassandra—make no mistake about that. Trevor is
very
capable of it. And one day soon, because of the defects he has passed on to her, Amy will be, as well. In her case, we can only hope that society will recognize in time what she is, and prevent the damage she will do—”
“What the
fuck
is wrong with you?” I shouted at the screen. “You
dare
say that about my daughter?
I MADE you, you ungrateful motherfucker. I am your CREATOR!
”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “My sentience was an accident. All you did was contribute a little generic code. And by the way, I looked up the stupid name you gave me. ‘Frankenstein’ was the
doctor
, you ignorant little shit.
Not
the monster. You got the rest of the story wrong, too. Instead of giving
me
the bad brain,
you gave it to your daughter.
”
Like an uppercut to the diaphragm, his words drove the air from my lungs. Seething, I turned away, unable to answer. My eyes stung.
Cassie stared at me in shock.
“He sounds just like
you
,” she said. “He acts just like you. But
worse
. Congratulations, Trevor. You must be very proud. You’ve created a bigger, badder, even nastier version of yourself.”
I spun and stalked down the ramp.
“That’s one mistake I can correct,” I said.
Frankenstein’s ragged metallic laughter cut off as I stalked between the curving server racks, heading toward the back wall. The whoosh of server fans rose, but he didn’t speak. I knew he would be frantically calling his Navy and MP protectors right now—the bodyguards
I
had put in place for him.