Tony Ballantyne - CAPACITY

His brown eyes now seemed to fill up her whole world, drowning out the dead trees, the scorching sun, the smell of decay. He was filling up her whole mind…

No, he wasn’t. Helen dropped the blade on the ground.

“I neither know nor care.”

She turned and walked away, and as she did so she felt a swelling wave of triumph. This was how you beat Kevin-by not reacting to him. But, oh, it was difficult. The revelation took her by surprise, but it was true. She was convinced of it. He wasn’t a person in his own right; he was just a reaction to circumstances.

By now the deathly brown stain had spread to the low hills that climbed gently up towards the section’s walls. She followed a path through the dead forest of clutching black hands, looking for the airlock and the route out of this section.

“Where are you going?” Kevin called after her.

She ignored him.

“Where are you going!” His voice was more urgent.

She almost laughed. It was that simple. Then she heard him coming up behind again, half running to keep up.

“You know the joke?” he was saying. “I’m not even alive! I pass the Turing test every day, and yet I’m not even really intelligent!”

Oh, I know that now . Helen kept walking. He dodged in front of her and began to walk backwards, keeping pace. His striped shirt was still open and flapping in the breeze. He held the white knife out to her.

“Go on, take it,” he said. “I told you, I’m not real. Killing me is not immoral; I was never alive!”

She said nothing.

“And yet you can’t do even that because Judy and all the machines at Social Care have programmed you not to.”

“Nobody has programmed me,” said Helen, striding on. She should have kept her mouth shut. Kevin had a look of satisfaction. He was in again.

“You know they have. You hate me and you should. I have raped and beaten and tortured and killed you every day for the past seventy years.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“It was you as much as Bairn was you. And you killed me for what I did to Bairn. Do you believe the Watcher’s lies? That each PC is an individual? That all virtual life comes from the Watcher? It’s slavery, Helen. More insidious than the slavery I practice in the Private Network, because you, Helen, you don’t even know you are enslaved.”

“Liar!”

Kevin was half walking, half skipping backwards. He kept turning to see where he was going, trying to keep ahead of Helen as she strode on along the dead path.

“There is another way, Helen-the human way. Humans tried to make their own AIs, too, you know. Before they let the Watcher do everything for them, they tried to write their own programs to think. And they succeeded, too. I am one of them! Did Judy tell you that?”

Helen said nothing, just continued putting one foot in front of the other, striding across the crumbling soil.

“Look at me: a capacity to make decisions, but unfettered by the notion of the soul. That’s why I’m not afraid to die.”

“Neither am I,” Helen shouted.

“Prove it then,” Kevin said. “Take the knife.”

He pushed the plastic knife into her hand. She kept hold of it. The little white knobbles felt comfortable in her palm. The knife felt good there. Balanced. A part of her. She could wave her hand and bring death with it.

Kevin had now fallen into step by her shoulder.

“Go on,” he whispered seductively. “Go on. Do it. Kill me. Or kill yourself. Free yourself.”

Slowly, deliberately, Kevin reached forward and placed his hand on her right breast. Helen’s hand tightened around the knife.

He whispered again: “Or are you remembering that little part of you that I grew into Bairn, that likes to be dominated?”

She took a deep breath…

The Private Network: Level Zero

Helen flicked the knife upwards and nicked the point of it into Kevin’s wrist. He gave a yelp of pain and pulled his hand away from her breast. Helen strode on. Where was the path out? She should have reached it by now. Where was everyone? Where was Judy? How much longer would she have to walk through this nightmare?

A nightmare? The thought curled slowly round in her head. A little seed, germinating. Where was she? In a processing space, obviously. But whose? One of the EA’s public spaces or-the thought popped up in her head-Kevin’s?

For the first time, she felt uncertain. Her pace quickened to become a stumbling run. Kevin had trapped her before, without her knowing it, and he could do it again. How much sweeter the torture if the events of the past few days turned out to have been lies?

Helen felt panic begin to rise inside her, and she firmly pushed it down. Kevin was walking silently along, but far behind her, menacing. Did he know what she was thinking?

When she saw the low circular mound ahead she felt a wave of relief. The mound signaled the exit to this section of the Shawl. She felt foolish. It had been there all along, merely hidden by the dying trees.

Of course. She wouldn’t have noticed this mound when she arrived. Walking up the spiral ramp from the silver airlock, she had been entranced to find herself rising into a circular clearing in woods that reminded her pleasantly of the arboretum.

It had seemed so familiar, she had felt herself relax straightaway.

How things had changed since Kevin had arrived. (She could hear him, jogging behind her…)

A few hours ago there had been dappled blue skies peeping through the flickering green patterns cast by the dancing leaves of the lime trees. Now there was only a circular mound of dusty brown soil studded with the twisted black ruins of dead trees. Hot sky, cold wind, and a smell of desolation.

The sudden thumping was Kevin breaking into a run. Her heart thudded in fear. Judy, where are you? Where am I ?

So fast…his hand reaching around from behind her again, red blood spraying from the wound on his wrist, Helen twisting around to dodge it, red droplets of blood scattered across her chest, and then she was running over the lip of the mound…

The Private Network: Level One, Variation A

…there was nothing there. No dead trees, no spiral ramp. Just a grey plastic floor and, in the middle of it, the open doorway to the isolation room.

“No,” Helen said, coming to a halt, fear enveloping her completely.

“Yes,” Kevin said, calm again as he came to stand behind her. He took the knife from her unresisting hands and slipped it into his pocket. “The past few days were just a little story. A little adventure we laid on for you to make your homecoming a little sweeter. Welcome home, Helen. Your clients are waiting for you.”

Black shadows moved inside the isolation room, and calmly, impassively, Judy stepped out. Helen began sobbing with relief. Kevin let go of her arm.

“Hello there, Judy,” she heard him say. “So you found me here. Never mind, there are other processing spaces. You won’t find all of them.”

“We will eventually,” Judy said, walking towards them. Helen fell to her knees. She couldn’t stop crying. Her chest was heaving in great big sobs, her body shaking.

Judy took her by the arm and hauled her up. Helen hung on to her, still weeping.

“I’m sorry…” she sobbed. “I just cuh…can’t…stop.”

Judy pressed a white finger to Helen’s lips, and Helen felt the salty tang of a tiny little pill dissolving on her tongue.

She began to feel calmer. “I’m sorry,” she gulped, looking at the silvery trail of snot on the black silk at the shoulder of Judy’s kimono. She couldn’t let go yet, though. She clung onto Judy, her arms wrapped around the warm body that lay hidden underneath the kimono.

Judy stroked her hair. “ I’m Judy 4 ,” she said . “ Here .” She pulled a silk scarf from her obi and gave it to Helen to blow her nose with. She made no mention of the mess that Helen had made of her kimono .