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8wings.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92011-01-10 07:54 pm
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Morning Exercise (open)
Anwei was jumping around the Hub - literally. With firm strokes of her arms and legs, she leaped from tentacle-base to tentacle-base, circling the vast room. Her hair fluttered wildly around her head in the anti-grav field, and she was sweating a little with the exertion.
She'd kept up a running commentary to Stacy about what she was doing in the back of her throat – the same way she used to talk to Horanckk. When Stacy suggested she try the Sensoriums for exercise, though, she demurred. The idea of rooms that could take things out of her mind and make them real made her shiver.
After three complete circuits of the Hub, she came to a halt and consulted her omnicom, which had been filming the whole time. Carefully, she marked the tunnels that were never entered by passers-by, the tentacles that hung limp rather than undulating. Someday, maybe soon, she would want to see if she could get into those unused tunnels, and see what might be in there. But for now, she rolled up her denim shirt and tied it to a tentacle with some blue string (making extra certain that all the pockets were sealed), marked out a large triangle on the wall with that same string, and began something that looked like dancing.
It was not dancing. It was drill for free-fall unarmed combat. Her arms and legs moved in long coordinated scything motions, her fingers grabbing and clawing at imaginary opponents (she was not grabbing with her toes because of the binding material of her plantsuit). In her ears she remembered her drill instructor bellowing as it criticized every falter and hesitation. She deliberately did not think of her first dance instructor and his tiny, cutting whip.
When she drifted out into the flow of traffic, she used her tie-line to move back against the wall and start again. It would be pretty obvious to anyone watching that she was doing some sort of structured exercise.
She'd kept up a running commentary to Stacy about what she was doing in the back of her throat – the same way she used to talk to Horanckk. When Stacy suggested she try the Sensoriums for exercise, though, she demurred. The idea of rooms that could take things out of her mind and make them real made her shiver.
After three complete circuits of the Hub, she came to a halt and consulted her omnicom, which had been filming the whole time. Carefully, she marked the tunnels that were never entered by passers-by, the tentacles that hung limp rather than undulating. Someday, maybe soon, she would want to see if she could get into those unused tunnels, and see what might be in there. But for now, she rolled up her denim shirt and tied it to a tentacle with some blue string (making extra certain that all the pockets were sealed), marked out a large triangle on the wall with that same string, and began something that looked like dancing.
It was not dancing. It was drill for free-fall unarmed combat. Her arms and legs moved in long coordinated scything motions, her fingers grabbing and clawing at imaginary opponents (she was not grabbing with her toes because of the binding material of her plantsuit). In her ears she remembered her drill instructor bellowing as it criticized every falter and hesitation. She deliberately did not think of her first dance instructor and his tiny, cutting whip.
When she drifted out into the flow of traffic, she used her tie-line to move back against the wall and start again. It would be pretty obvious to anyone watching that she was doing some sort of structured exercise.
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"I'm sure that Stacy has a huge medical database." Because otherwise she'd unpod someone with a lethal disease or contagious insanity, and that would be that. "The Vizsnunishne database has as one of its condition of use that it can be given away, but not sold. Stacy might think her medical information is proprietary - well, even if she does think that, I can still add my information to hers. If she lets me."
One pushy question finally broke loose. "So - can you absorb emotions from anyone? Can you absorb them from Stacy?"
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Anwei tried to picture emotions as shadows for a moment - shadows that could be eaten. What did they look like, what did they taste like? Maybe she would ask some of those questions, later. For the database, of course.
"Remember what I said on the comm, about treating AI's as people? How the more flexible they became, the better personalities they had? Stacy is the person who will know about her emotions, good and bad. Ask Stacy how she feels. Maybe she's nothing but love and joy all the time but - maybe not. And if you can take some of her shadows away - she may appreciate it."
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"I-I just... D-don't trust her."
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She looked down for a moment. "Look. I don't know how long all of us, any of us, are going to be here. But maybe you could try talking to her, tell her why you don't trust her, what she would need to do for you to trust her. And - here's the important thing - give her permission to talk to you later, to think about what you've said. Sometimes for an AI that's all it takes, knowing that someone wants to hear back from them. And before you know it they're running their numbers backwards, in your favor. Because they like you."
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As much distrust and dislike he felt towards Stacy, that projection had shown a side of her that he hadn't expected to see. As hurt as he still felt, seeing anyone like that tugged at his heart.
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"I wonder if she ever sleeps? I mean probably she shuts down segments of her system in series for maintenance and defragging, but does she dream, I wonder? AI's can have some incredibly vivid dreams." She'd met two who had been award-winning novelists, and both had claimed that they only wrote their dreams. "Maybe she dreams of you and Alice. Dreams of keeping you safe. Dreams of this whole war being over, of having never been. Of everyone going home."
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"M-maybe. Th-that'd be nice. M-maybe, i-if she c-can't, I c-could someday f-figure a w-way so she c-could."
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But Stacy was her place for the moment. "I hope that the Daligig have something nice planned for her after this is over. She's a beautiful piece of software and bioware, even if she is rather mixed up right now; I hope they don't just wipe her and turn her back into a prison ship."
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"I wonder how attached Stacy is to being a ship, though? If she could instance out, make a copy of herself and move it from her current space - maybe she'd rather be a city manager. Or a hospital ship - she does come across as very loving."
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Whoever the Daligig were, they were advanced. He had been called a genius when it came to code back home, but he probably would seem completely unskilled to the Daligig.
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And she wondered: how would Tracy get along with another AI she knew quite well, her friend Horanckk? He had engaged with AI's before, he knew a considerable amount about slicing surgically into code structure and taking out just what was needed. If he was here, if he was unbound in the systems, could he negate Stacy's contradictory orders? Or - better yet - could he take over parts of her code structure that were contradictory, absorb them and remove them from her? Stacy apparently already rejected some parts of them emotionally; could she be convinced to join forces with Horanckk?
And if I had a long enough lever, I could move the moon, she chided herself. First things first.
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"What we need to do," Anwei laced her fingers together at the back of her neck and bowed her head backwards, staring up at Stacy's tentacled ceiling, "what we need to do is help her personality to strengthen and to move apart - to separate - at the same time. So that each part feels that it isn't being threatened by the other part getting stronger. The nastier bits can go do nasty things - there are places for such AI's, or confine her to one Sensorium and let her play with dolls in there - and Stacy can go where she pleases."
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He smiled thankfully when she offered Chapstick, but instead of saying anything about that or about that particular bit of Stacy he asked, "d-do you think y-you c-could help me? W-with Stacy I mean?"
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"I-I'm s-sure your f-friend would be g-glad to know he w-was helping in a w-way too."
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Anwei put her fingertips to his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, he is always a help, even when he isn't here. I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for him. And I have to remember that he was multi-instanced, many copies of himself spread between multiple ships in multiple dimensions. So I can - I will find him. He is out there. And if I can't find him, I am certain that he will find me."
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"Y-you seem c-close ta him. I-I'm sure that y-you'll find him e-eventually. H-he might even b-be asleep s-somewhere in S-Stacy's c-code. I-it's also n-nice to think that S-Stacy might n-not have brought me h-here expecting me t-ta fight."
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"And for every soldier on the field, there are three or five or twenty sentients off the field: moving supplies, calculating usage, getting transit approvals and just holding peoples' hands when they are scared. The big people with shiny weapons get all the attention, but without the back-end support they'd be like a knife without a hilt: all edge and no way to move it. I think all your fighting will be in here," and she tapped her own forehead.
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"I-I've never been g-good with limelight a-anyway."
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"So, are any of your friends here - besides Alice? Your Mikel or Loretta?"
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I think we're getting close to ending this thread
OK, I'll see you soon