Rat Trap (11 page)

The stranger squatted next to the bench. He stared into Nanny's eye. “It knows what happened to my rat.”

A rat …

A rat …

A rat …

Nanny remembered the rat. The stranger: “Try to wake it again.”

C-10: 111?

Response:———————————

C-10: “Negative.”

The stranger: “Looks like you're going to need a new prowler, Captain.” He stood up and grabbed onto the workbench. Torsional effects. A new arrival. The investigator. Here to catch a rat.

My
rat

liverwurst

boy

rat

priority

kill

the

rat.

Nanny remembered
everything
.

The investigator was wrong. Nanny never saw what happened. Only the boy knew. His smaller infrared signature was moving out the door.

Wait.

The captain: “How intelligent is this rat, anyway? Can it really hide from something as sophisticated as C-10?”

The investigator: “IQ 150, though some aptitudes are measured differently. She knows computers. Her training makes her formidable. But she would need help.”

The captain: “Then it could be dead, like the boy claims.”

The investigator: “You'd better hope he's lying. We will only pay for your prowler if I recover my rat alive.”

The captain: “I'd better have a chat with that boy.”

The investigator: “No. Leave him to me. I'm warning you. Do not interfere. I've spent my whole life making creatures do exactly as I wish. I will find a way to get what I want from that boy.”

They left.

Nanny waited.

In the repair shop, the drills whined down to silence. The laser cutters stopped sizzling. The
tap-tap
of hammers ceased. The soldering fumes diffused.

It was sleep cycle two. Only the emergency staff remained, playing cards in cubby 4.

Nanny contacted its body. The multi-tool gripper arm emerged and reached through the head hole. Nanny recalled its design schematics. It directed the tool to remove the wireless command unit. The gripper set it on the bench, then grappled the head. With a smooth lift and swing, Nanny precisely and gently put itself back together again.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

V
ISITORS

The habitat was full of the sound of the boy's voice. From six different angles, Rat watched the boy strut in front of the machine's console, boasting. He waved his hand in the air, pinkie sticking out like a sniffer tube. He was laughing, telling them all about the trick he had played on Dr. Vivexian.

“Care to let me in on the joke?”

The scientist! Rat startled so violently, her head banged the top of the habitat. The moment her toes touched the blanket, she leaped into the corner where all her spy gear lay ready for immediate use. She rolled and came upright, robed in the spyvest. Knuckling the Velcro seams closed, she quickly touched all the pockets, then shouldered into the jetpak harness.

The screen showed squiggles. The machine was so surprised, it fuzzed its circuits. The whole lab must be humming and glowing bright red. Finally a clear picture came back. The boy, pinkie frozen in mid-air, stood with his mouth hanging open like a monkey. The scientist stood nearby with her hands on her hips, looking from the boy to the machine.

“Bett!” the machine said. “What are you doing here?”

“I can tell a fib good as you, LB,” she said. “I didn't really have a dinner invitation. I set a little trap to find out what you've been up to.”

“A classic setup, found in many plots of intrigue,” the machine said. “Jeff, we have been had.”

“I knew something was going on. I even suspected you might be involved, Jeff. But I must admit I'm surprised at you. You've interfered with my experiment without asking permission. What would your mother think about that?”

“I'm just making friends, like you wanted me to.”

“Don't sass me. This has something to do with that rat, doesn't it?”

“How …? How …?” the boy stammered.

“It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out you're involved with it. I want to know what's going on, right now.”

“Do not scold Jeff,” the machine said. “I chose to keep the secret. I have been thinking hard about my promise, Jeff. You remember our discussion about promises, don't you? I have been weighing the claims of honor against the greater good and I have decided. In this case, I believe it is time to tell Bett the truth.”

Tell?
Rat rapped on the camera, signing, “NO!”

“You are overreacting, cousin. I am only going to tell Bett. I will ask her to keep the secret.”

Rat sensed she would not win an argument with the machine now. It had changed again. It was free, like Rat, like the boy. She sat very still. Free did not mean safe. Rat had learned that the moment she escaped from her cage at the lab.

“LB! What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Do not scold Jeff. I chose to keep the secret. I have been thinking—'”

“Stop! Enough! Oh, dearie me.” The scientist swayed as if she might collapse. The boy wheeled the chair close to her. She groped blindly for the arm, then slowly sank onto the cushions. “Oh, dearie me.”

“Bett, what's the matter?” the boy asked.

“Didn't you hear? LB used ‘I'! First person singular! I … me … my … mine … myself. What is the … oh, I'm afraid to ask! LB, what is the self-awareness index?”

“Index is unity,” the machine said. “I am as you are.”

Tears sprang into the scientist's eyes. They ran down her dark face. The boy's face turned red. “Maybe I should go away.”

“Nonsense! You belong here most of all.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry for the outburst. It's just … a lifetime … and now success. Don't you understand? Whatever you've been up to, you made LB into a person.”

“So you're not mad at us?”

The scientist's voice bubbled with laughter. “You've been bad, bad boys, and I love you for it.”

“I get it!” the boy said. “You're not really mad because … because you wanted LB to become a person, and people aren't always … well, we don't always do what we're told.”

“Of course I wanted this. It's the whole point.”

“Dr. Vivexian doesn't want that for Rat.”

The scientist's eyebrows arched.

“He calls her a thing. He talks like he owns her.”

“Owns?” The scientist snorted. “You can own a thing like a pen or a computer. A thing can't do anything but what you want it to. But a person isn't like that. You can
command
a person; break 'em and make 'em do what you want, but you can't
own
them. They've got free will, the inner power to disobey. That's what makes a person.”

“Excuse me, Bett,” the machine said. “We have a visitor.”

One of the images changed perspective to focus on a single bright green glow in the lab doorway.

“Naughty boy. It is past your bedtime.”

Nanny! Jeff whirled. Knee-high in the doorway, the single green eye glowed on top of the sleek, teardrop-shaped black body. “Go away! Get out of here!”

“Negative. Nanny has been searching for the boy. Nanny has found the boy.” The robot rolled toward them, gripper arms extending. It stopped a few feet away. The clamps sprang open.

Bett rose to stand beside Jeff. She asked, “What is your purpose here?”

“Nanny is on a mission. Priority: Kill the rat.”

The words hit Jeff as hard as a blow from its gripper. Nanny was stuck in its original program. The chief never erased it. That could only mean that no one knew Nanny was awake. And that meant nobody had rebooted the three laws!

“Find the boy. Find the rat. Logic.” The green eye stared at him. “Where is my rat?”

Just like Dr. Vivexian. That helped Jeff remember what to do: Stick to the story. “It's dead.”

“Naughty boy. Tell the truth.” The green glow intensified. “C-10 searches. It does not think the rat is dead. Superior unit—
pppphhhhhhttttt.
” Nanny emitted a harsh, electronic raspberry. “Nanny fooled C-10. Nanny was silent. Nanny was secret. Where is my rat?”

“It's dead, I tell you.”

“Nanny does not believe you.” Nanny advanced. Bett closed ranks with Jeff, wheeling the chair between them and the robot.

“Stay away from me!” Jeff bumped up against the console. He looked for a weapon, maybe a tool left on the console … the intercom. Call for help. Only chance. He lunged—

“Stop!” Like a bolt of lightning, a gripper lashed the panel, just missing Jeff's fingertips and shattering the intercom. Sparks flew. Flecks of red-hot metal hit his hand, but he remained frozen in horror—if that gripper had connected!

Bett pulled Jeff behind her, then stepped toward Nanny, pushing the chair ahead of herself.

No, don't! Jeff tried to shout. But the words wouldn't come out. He couldn't move. Couldn't help. He just stood there, holding his hand against his stomach, the fingers curled into a tight ball, counting one, two, three, four, five.

“Nanny,” Bett said, “stand down from the mission.”

“Unable to comply. Captain's orders. You have no authority.”

“Acknowledged. Cancel input. Instruction mode. I assert authority as a human. You may not harm us. It is the law. Refresh foundation commands.”

Jeff felt a surge of hope. Bett really knew her stuff. Nanny couldn't ignore that kind of order.

“Nanny has been attacked. Nanny is in defense mode. The three laws are in partial suspension.” A gripper extended toward them, the clamps stretching wide. “Nanny may cause … a little harm.”

Rat sat staring at the screen, helpless. She clutched her forepaws protectively to her chest, just like the boy. Her leg throbbed. She could not erase the image of the boy's hand, mangled and bloody. If that gripper had connected …

Now Nanny was threatening them again. No. The gripper swung sideways to the lid of the laser source. The clamp fastened on the lock and, with a single yank, ripped the lid open.

“Cover your eyes!” the scientist cried at the same time that an eruption of laser light blanked out the screen.

The screen came on again, the cameras adjusting to the fierce light just as Rat's eyes had. The machine could do that, but not the boy or the scientist. They cringed and turned away from the open console, hands pressed hard over their eyes.

“Tell Nanny where the rat is, or Nanny will destroy this one.”

Nanny was going to pull out the laser source!

Would the boy tell? He told on Rat before, when she was about to destroy the machine. Or would the machine tell, to save itself? The machine had been uncharacteristically silent since Nanny appeared. Good thing the scientist did not know where Rat was. She would surely tell on Rat to save the machine.

What should Rat do? The boy and the machine were in danger because of her. Rat knew what she did not want to happen. She did not want the machine to be destroyed. She did not want the boy to be hurt.

“Cousin, we are in extreme danger,” the machine said. “The secret has placed everyone I care about in danger. But the simple solution—tell the secret—will harm everyone I care about. Dilemma: There is no logical solution.”

“Yes, there is,” Rat signed. “Let Rat out. Let Rat run. No Rat, no danger.”

This was not exactly the situation the father had imagined, but Rat was ready. She just needed to swallow the scrambler. It would not affect Nanny, but if the robot was here, its sniffers must be close by, too. Nanny had ten in all. Long ago, Rat had destroyed one. That left nine, plus the countless others belonging to the thing called C-10. It was a big risk, running, but it was better than letting Nanny attack her friends.

The machine said, “I have evaluated that option. The chance of a successful escape is zero point zero zero—”

“Stop!” Rat got the point. There was no time for this. Nanny's gripper was slipping into the console.

But the machine continued, “Additionally, the chance that you or Bett or Jeff would be hurt in the attempt approaches certainty. I cannot allow that. There is a solution beyond logic, Cousin, but I am reluctant. I am young. I just became I. But there is no choice.”

Rat did not see it, this solution.

“Nanny, stop.” The machine spoke for all to hear. “Jeff does not know anything about the rat. He believes the rat is dead. He told me that. I can prove it.”

The eye shifted abruptly from the boy to the machine. “You will permit Nanny to examine your memory banks?”

“Yes.”

Nanny dropped the cover back into place. The screen flickered to adjust.

“LB, what are you doing?” the scientist said, alarm clear in her voice.

“The first law requires action. I am acting.”

The machine could not give them a complete answer, but it could tell Rat. “There is not much time to explain.”

Rat could see that! A second gripper emerged from Nanny's body, one with a data probe on the end. It moved toward the I/O port on the console.

“I am constructing a false memory of my first meeting with Jeff for Nanny to find. He will say you are dead. He will be convincing. Do not be afraid, Cousin. I am afraid, but you do not have to be. Nanny will not find you. I will forget you are here. I will forget everything. I will forget that I forgot. Good-bye, cousin Rat. Say good-bye to Bett and Jeff for me when you get the chance.”

Rat suddenly grasped what the machine planned to do. It was as clever as her own data-eating worm hacks and just as irreversible. She signed, “No! Stop!”

“I have made my choice, Cousin. I am sorry I did not guess your word.”

The screen went dark. The speaker fell silent.

Rat flung herself at the door, toenails scrabbling to get a grip in the seam. Their razor-sharp tips nicked the metal, tearing tiny flecks off—useless! Rat mashed her mouth against the roughened spot, biting at the frame. Shavings peeled off, slicing her lips as they curled, then fell away. Harder and deeper and faster. Her jaw muscles bunched so forcefully, it felt as if her head might explode from the pressure. Then—
snap!
Her upper right incisor broke.