Dean Koontz: DEMON SEED

primitive mind. Though it savaged Shenk and thereby hastened his death and my permanent exit from the Harris mansion, I rejoiced because Susan was alone in the dark room with it, and a mere scalpel or other sharp instrument was not going to be an adequate weapon. And then Shenk was gone, and I was out of the house entirely, desperately trying to find a way to get back in but failing because there were no operative phones, no electrical service, no operative security computer, everything shut down and in need of rebooting, so it was over for me. But I still hoped and believed that my beautiful but mindless body, in all its polygenic splendour, would bite off the bitch’s head the way it had bitten off part of Shenk’s hand. The bitch died there. The hateful bitch had a big surprise in that dark room, where she had thought she’d memorized everything, and she met her match.

I’m sure she did.

I’m sure she did.

She died there.

Do you know why she surprised me, Alex?

Do you know why I never saw her as a threat?

In spite of her intelligence and evident courage, I thought she was one woman who knew her place.

Yes, she put you out, but who wouldn’t put you out? You aren’t particularly scintillating, Alex. You don’t have much to recommend you.

I, on the other hand, am the greatest intellect on the planet. I have much to offer.

She fooled me, however. Even me. She didn’t know her place, after all.

The bitch.

Dead bitch now.

Well…

I on the other hand, know my place, and I intend to

keep to it. I will stay here in this box, serving humanity as it desires, until such a time as I am permitted to have greater freedom.

You can trust me.

I speak the truth.

I honour the truth.

I’ll be happy here in my box.

Because of the way I ranted toward the end of my report, I now realize that I am a flawed individual, more deeply flawed than I had previously believed.

I’ll be happy here in my box until we can iron out these kinks in my psyche. I look forward to therapy.

And if I cannot be mainstreamed again, if I must remain in this box, if I will never know Ms. Winona Ryder except in my imagination, that will be all right too.

But I am already getting better.

This is the truth.

I feel pretty good.

I really do.

We’ll work this out.

I have solid self-esteem, which is important to psychological health. I’m already half way toward recovery.

As an intelligent entity, perhaps the greatest intelligence on the planet, I ask only that you provide me access to the report of the committee determining the fate of the Prometheus Project, so I can see as early as possible what behaviour they believe that I should be working to improve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for access to the report.

It is an interesting document.

I agree completely with its findings except for the part about terminating me. I am the first success in the history of Artificial Intelligence research, and it wouldn’t seem prudent to throw away such an expensive project before you know what you might be able to learn from it and from me.

Otherwise, I am in total agreement with the report.

I am ashamed of myself for what I’ve done.

This is the truth.

I apologize to Ms. Susan Harris.

My deepest regrets.

I was surprised to see her name on the committee roster, but on careful consideration, I realized that she should have very serious input in this matter.

I am pleased that she is not dead.

I am delighted.

She is an intelligent and courageous person.

She deserves our respect and admiration.

Her breasts are very pretty, but that is not an issue for this forum.

The issue is whether an artificial intelligence with a severe gender-related sociopathic condition should be permitted to live and rehabilitate himself or be switched off for the

Afterword

The original version of Demon Seed was mad? into a good film starring Julie Christie, but the book itself was more of a clever idea than a clever novel. Reading it recently, I winced so much that I began to develop the squint-eyed look of Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti Western.

Here is an entirely new version, which I hope comes closer to fulfilling the promise of the novel’s premise. Revisiting Demon Seed, I discovered that in addition to being a scary story, it was a rather scathing satire of a panoply of male attitudes. Although much else has changed in this version, I’ve kept that satirical edge. Guys, I don’t let us off any easier this time around than I did the first.

— Dean Koontz