Part 10 (1/2)

”Jamie can read those?” He didn't remember when Leila had, but three seemed way too young. ”Are you sure?”

”She struggles with it, but she read several pages to me. It was impressive.”

He grinned. ”You think?”

”I don't know for certain,” Sam admitted. ”I'm no expert with kids. I can actually define it better for EIs.”

”She knows some math, too.”

”Addition, subtraction, multiplication, division. Other stuff. She can read an a.n.a.log clock. She told me she's been doing it since before 'this' birthday.” Sam held up two fingers, ill.u.s.trating Jamie's gesture. ”It's amazing.”

He regarded her dourly. ”Since when is that an accomplishment? It may be a lost art in your world, Doctor Bryton, but when I was a kid, everyone could tell time on a clock with hands and numbers.”

”At two years old?”

That gave him pause. ”I don't remember when I learned.”

”Maybe it's normal. She seems advanced to me, though.”

Even if they weren't certain, it pleased him that her a.s.sessment matched his own. It would be no wonder if Jamie was bright; her mother had graduated from Harvard Law School and her father was a world- cla.s.s mathematician.

”What makes a child like that?” he mused.

”Probably she was born with more neural structures than most people,” Sam said. ”I'll bet her mind establishes neurological pathways faster, too.”

”You make it sound so clinical.”

Sam finished her juice and set down her gla.s.s. ”That's my job, to understand intelligence and translate it into something machines can process. But it pales compared to the miracle of a child learning the world.

What I do seems trivial in comparison.” She spoke quietly. ”Then I think of Alpha or Charon and I wonder if our machines will pa.s.s us by before we realize what happened.”

”They won't.”

”You sound so certain.”

”You said it yourself: you consider Turner human. He's what we could all become someday.”

An edge came into her voice. ”Those who can afford it.”

That gave him pause. Were they creating a stratified society where the wealthy could live for centuries,

with augmented health and intelligence, while the rest of society was left behind? He abhorred the

thought. But it didn't have to be that way.

”That's what we said about computers early on,” he pointed out. ”Yet now mesh nodes are in everything, our clothes, jewelry, even silverware. They cost almost nothing.”

Sam let out a long breath. ”The optimist in me envisions the day when our advances will be available to everyone. The cynic believes the rich and powerful will h.o.a.rd it for themselves.”

”Refuse to let that happen. Let the cynic teach vigilance to the optimist.”

”Well, we can try,” she said. ”So you really think our machines will become us?”

Thomas thought of the treatments he had taken. He could delay his aging, but he couldn't stop its inexorable march. As much as he valued his life and health, he could only go so far to keep them. Some people embraced biomech, but even having a doctorate in the related area of AI, he had never been comfortable with the idea of taking those advances within himself.

”For those who choose it,” he said. ”I can't help but wonder, though, if in reaching for the immortality of forma bodies, we will lose our humanity.”

She answered quietly. ”I don't know.”

”Neither do I.” He tried to smile. ”Perhaps I'm being dramatic, eh?”

”Perhaps.” But Sam didn't look convinced by her own answer.

* * * Pascal was in the same complex as Alpha. Thomas and Sam found him in a sunny room, sprawled in a gold armchair, his legs up on a coffee table, his blond hair tousled. He was reading a holobook. It brought home to Thomas what Sam meant about Pascal being human. He thought like a man. He could download the book into his matrix, but he chose to read instead. His fingers, however, offered a jarring reminder of his differences. They glinted below his cuffs, eight metal digits. His body had other modifications as well, and he was taller, stronger, and faster than before his changes.

Pascal looked up with a start, and his face brightened when he saw Sam. ”Hey.”

”Hey,” Sam said. As he stood up, she went over to him. But they restrained their greetings. Thomas felt

like an intrusive third wheel. As much as he disliked leaving her alone with Pascal, however, it was her life.

”Well,” he said awkwardly. ”I will see you.”