Tony Ballantyne - CAPACITY

As the robot spoke, a series of pictures ran across one of the viewing fields. Judy saw a matte-black lozenge hanging in space, and she gave a shiver. The poor individuals trapped inside it would be generally unaware of their true situation: personality constructs running in a tiny processing space, floating invisibly in empty space. A little pocket of hell, abandoned to the mercy of the unseen perverts who made use of the Private Network. It was easy to feel what it was like in there. Empathy was her job, after all.

She picked up a band and used it to pull her long black hair back from her face, glancing around the other viewing fields as she did so. Digital Judys were moving around inside the processing space with a calm purpose that made her feel rather proud. With the comm link broken, they were effectively marooned, and yet they quietly got on with their work without fuss.

She nodded and followed their example.

“We’ve been in worse situations than this in the past. How confident are you of getting them out of there, Frances?”

“I’ll tell you in about thirty-five seconds. As I said, the comm link isn’t entirely gone. I’ve managed to force a narrow path through the remnants of the antenna. Now I just need to find a way to slow down those leaks sufficiently…”

Judy tore a piece of black paper from a pad and moistened it with her lips, little VNMs creeping across the cherry-red skin. She turned to a viewing field floating near the bed showing a view into the distant processing space. It revealed one of her digital selves standing in a mirrored room, speaking to a young woman with daisies plaited in her blond hair.

“The young woman speaking to Judy 3 is Helen,” explained Frances.

“Oh yes,” Judy said, “I thought I recognized her.”

Helen stared into the impassive white face of the woman who stood in front of her.

“Well? Answer me! You must have made a backup of this processing space. Surely that would be your first action on invading a pirate space?”

Judy 3’s lips curled in a faint smile.

“Well, no. We do make a topological outline for possible forensic pattern-matching routines, but nothing else. Why should we? Even if we run a backup copy, you’ll still be dead.”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing. That was decided long ago. You are the here and now, not the backup copy. Remember what Eva Rye told the Watcher.”

“Eva Rye…” began Helen, but Judy 3 had tilted her head slightly, listening to the shushing of her console.

“Ah, the atomic Judy has made contact. Hello, AJ. Glad you could join us.”

Helen’s eyes narrowed. “That means you’ve got a connection to the outside world. Why don’t you use it to get us out of here?”

Four AUs and another order of existence away, the atomic Judy looked away from the viewing field towards Frances.

“She’s sharp, isn’t she?”

“That’s part of her appeal,” the robot said. “They’ve had one copy after another of her running in their private torture chambers for the past seventy years… Sorry, but it’s going to take me an additional forty seconds before I’ll know whether or not I can get them out of there. The destructor routines they are running are simple, but there are too many of them. All I can do is slow the rate of collapse. Our only real chance is to get a wider comm link into there and extract the personality constructs before the processing space is wiped completely.”

Judy picked up her console, set in its usual form of a piece of heavy, lacquered wood, and began to wind it into her hair. She looked over to the viewing field by the bathroom.

“Let’s see how Judy 3 handles Helen. Let’s see if she can keep her distracted.”

Back in the processing space, Judy 3 remained calm through a combination of her basic training and Tao meditation. Helen, however, was remaining calm through nothing more than self-control. Judy 3 was impressed.

“The connection to the outside world isn’t wide enough for us to escape, Helen. We couldn’t squeeze you through it any more than we could get your physical brain through a straw.”

“Serialize it.”

“Personality constructs in processing spaces operate according to non-Turing processes. They can’t be serialized.”

“I thought they could represent minds on Turing machines.”

“What do you mean by Turing machines, Helen?”

“Something…You’re distracting me, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Keep talking.”

Helen shrugged. “Okay. Something that funnels all its operations through one door. A basic computer, it can only do one thing at a time-”

“Nice summary. You learned well at school.”

“Doesn’t everyone? I’d heard Social Care had education pretty well worked out by 2100. So, can they represent minds on Turing machines?”

“Well…” Judy 3 said, and her console began shushing. In the mirrored rooms hundreds of Judys tipped their heads back a little and smiled. “That’s a debate for another day, Helen,” she said, then listened again to what her console was saying. “And it looks like we may get to have that debate.”

A black doorway formed in one of the mirrored walls. It had EMERGENCY EXIT written on it in big green letters.

“Step through,” Judy 3 said.

“Done it,” said Frances. “The EA gave me the coordinates of a warp-drive-equipped ship within 4-space range. The ship managed to get to that floating prison and physically plug a line into the processing space with no time to spare.”

“I knew you would do it, Frances.” The atomic Judy laid her hand on the warm golden metal of her friend’s shoulder. The painted eyes turned towards her.

“You know I can tell by your body language that you’re lying, Judy? But I accept the compliment anyway. The personality constructs from the black body have been moved into a secure part of the ship’s processing space and are being sieved through the firewall right now. The Private Network has a habit of leaving nasty little logic bombs encoded in the processes of its personality constructs.”

Judy let out a long sigh and relaxed, gripping her toes on the surface of one of the rough tatami mats that covered her apartment floor. “Will I be needed for the cleanup?” she asked.

“Social Care have it in hand.” Frances paused. “There is still some wrapping up to do, however. Two of your sisters want to speak.”

Judy closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay.” She yawned.

Frances shut down all but two of the viewing fields in Judy’s bedroom. A red line then formed around the viewing field borders in order to distinguish between the atomic and the digital. The fields appeared empty, just two empty red frames hanging near the door into the lounge. Judy 3 and Helen suddenly appeared inside one red border: they walked into the room and sat down on the bed.

“Hey there,” said Judy 3. “This is Helen.”

“Hello, Helen,” said the atomic Judy.

Through the second frame she saw Judy 11 quickly withdraw to the living room as soon as she spotted Helen. The atomic Judy wondered what Judy 11 had to say that so obviously had to be kept private.

“Is that the real world I can see through there?” Helen asked, peering around the red border of the viewing field.

The atomic Judy smiled. “That’s an interesting question.”

Through the red border, Judy 3 put a hand on Helen’s thigh to calm her. She looked at the atomic Judy.

“She’s not in the mood for it yet, AJ. She was only activated twenty-one hours ago.”

The atomic Judy winced. “Sorry, Three. Have you told her the options?”

“She has,” Helen said. “And I don’t like them. I’m seventy years out of time.” She looked at Judy 3’s black kimono. “Where am I now, anyway? And does everyone dress like this in the future?”