Deanna's Surprise Pt. 03

"You know, this might not work in the long term, Deanna."

Ewan had called it right. Karen Litzky, a woman in her late twenties, had been in the music industry since she worked as aroadie for a blues band from Boston. She had been caught between her own concern for the Beemers and her desire to hang onto her own job. Shortly after my brood and I arrived at Jim Graham's townhouse in the north end of the city for the party, she dragged me onto the back porch to talk about Rayven's friends. "It was worth trying, Karen," I said, then sipped my spring water. "The girls love their fans. They see them as an adopted family and never wanted to fail them. That's what made them work so hard on their music. Unfortunately..."

"They were too successful," Karen finished before sipping her glass of wine. "And when they needed the energy to push themselves on..."

"Their roadie was there with the 'right' stuff," I grumbled, then winked at her. "According to Rayven, that is."

She returned my look, then smirked. "Since it was Rayven who said that, I'll believe you," she chuckled, then spat out. "Ahh! Who the hell'm I kidding? That jerk's been messing with the girls ever since their first nation-wide tour!"

"Why haven't you fired his ass?"

"He's got friends in the right places."

"Ah!"

Karen waved around us to indicate the others. "So what's this party about, anyway?"

"Jim's celebrating the deal the province made with New York State about hydroplane ferries between Toronto and Rochester. Besides, it's a chance for old classmates and friends to get back together to remember the good times when we were the girls' age."

"Pity they never had much of a chance to enjoy normal lives," Karen lamented. "Soon as they came of age, they were booted out of the orphanage. It amazes me that they were able to land on their feet and launch the band like they did."

"Any idea what happened to their parents?" I asked.

"No. Those records are sealed by the New Jersey state government. After they put out their first album, we put out a call over the Net to find them. No reply." After saying that, Karen swallowed the rest of her wine. "Damn, this world of ours stinks at times!"

I nodded. "Amen to that."

"Excuse me?"

We turned to see Wendy Graham walk up with Anne-Marie. I gave Jim's wife a one-armed hug and kiss. "Hey, Wendy! Great party!"

"Thanks," Wendy gave me a smile before facing Karen. "Are you the agent for those poor girls in the hospital?"

"I am." Karen offered her hand. After introducing herself, she shrugged. "For a little while more, unfortunately."

"Won't your employers reconsider?" Anne-Marie asked.

"Not really," Karen shook her head. "It's not because they're unsympathetic to what happened to the girls. But record sales for already-released albums can only go so far. We've no idea what'll happen to the girls and how that'll affect those sales. Will they rise? It's happened for some singers, but not all of them. Is it a risk worth taking in the long term by the company? It's hard to say."

"In other words, you'd need to launch new tours," Wendy concluded.

"With what?" Karen asked.

Wendy and Anne-Marie exchanged a look. "Well..." the former trilled. "Did you know that one of the robots Deanna has is an IP 'bot?"

Total silence followed that question. I just stared at Jim's wife as the implications of what she was proposing sank in. Giving a very perplexed Karen a glance -- no doubt, she had no real knowledge about 'bot tech -- I turned to Anne-Marie. "Can you do that?"

"I already talked to Marlenn," she told me. "The device needed to get the memory copy is portable and easily sterilized, so it can be brought into the ICU with no problem. We can justify it by doing a special EKG scan to ensure their brains are still active."

"Once Marlenn gets basic chassis from a manufacturer -- say the company that built Rayven -- she can finish them in two days working round the clock," Wendy added. "The memory scan will take six hours for each girl. And they're not going anywhere for the foreseeable future."

"In a situation like this, Kip can give permission for Brenda and Monique, so privacy issues won't be a problem," Anne-Marie noted.

"What are you guys talking about?" Karen demanded.

"IP technology, Karen," I stared at her, then noting her continued confusion, added, "'IP' means 'Implanted Personality.' It's sometimes referred to as 'Donated Personality.' Digitalized immortality of a sort."

Silence fell as the agent considered what I just said, then her eyes went wide. "You mean to create...?" her voice trailed off on seeing Wendy and Anne-Marie nod, then she breathed out. "God, that's a degree of separation from perfect! What would you need?!"

"The basic bodies from a top-flight 'bot manufacturer," Anne-Marie reported. "Marlenn recommends Noram. That's the company that made Rayven. They can build the skeletons to order and they can do it for emergency orders. And it's fortunate that the girls in Rayven's band once bared it all for Playboy," she paused for a second, then added, "...although a CAT scan would have been even better!"

"Who'd pay for it?" I asked.

"We would." I spun around to see Reika and Irene standing there. "You?!" I demanded.

"Deanna, don't forget, we do have a major trust fund to fall back onto," Reika chuckled as they slid up to wrap their arms around mine.

"And if the girls die, what happens to Rayven?" Irene asked.

I considered that for a moment, then sighed. "She's developing her self-will," I whispered. "If they die..."

"What'll happen?"

I glanced over to see Karen starting to pale. "Raye was trapped because of the First Law of Robotics."

"'A robot shall not harm a human, nor through inaction, allow a human to come to harm,'" Reika and Irene quoted in perfect harmony.

"In Rayven's case, she was caught between the realization that the drugs the girls were taken were hurting them..." I then paused to take a deep breath, "...and the fact that the drugs were making the girls happy and allowing them to compose and perform better."

"Damn," Karen hissed.

"If they die, Raye might take it very badly," I warned. "Almost to the point where she might simply choose to cease to function."

"Even with your as her owner now?"

"Almost certainly. Delayed shock is still very real. Short of wiping that part of her mind..."

"To one of us, doing that would, in effect, kill us," Irene added.

"I never realized that," Karen admitted, then took a deep breath. "So what can I do to help?"

"How'd you like to help get rid of the creep who fed drugs to those girls in the first place?" Anne-Marie asked.

Staring at my friend, the music agent blinked, then grinned. "You're on!"

We all laughed. "Now all we have to do is decide," Reika mused. "Do we tell Rayven right away or make it a surprise?"

Thoughtful hums escaped the rest of us...

My new owner.

My new mistress...

No. She doesn't like being called 'mistress.'

Her name is Deanna Sophia Hordye.

Call her Deanna.

She likes me.

She trusts me.

But...

What about...?

I can't desert them...!

Can I...?

Brenda's not my owner now.

Deanna's my owner.

But still...

What do I do?

What do I do...?

Can I even do it?

"Raye?"

"Yeah, Deanna?" she looked up.

It is Tuesday morning, the day after the party at the Grahams. From what Lenn reported after we came to the apartment on Denistoun to spend the night together, Rayven enjoyed herself immensely. Most of her time had been spent with Meghan and Samantha, Jim's and Wendy's fembot aides. While not as advanced when it comes to independent thinking as my bi-'bot lovers, the Grahams' girls were very proficient when it came to interacting with guests, 'bot or human. Having watched over my newest charge during most of the party, Lenn reported that Rayven was able to keep up with the "two chatterboxes" (as she had nicknamed Meghan and Samantha). No doubt, Rayven has been able to push herself, especially since she began to work with the Vee Beemers, to integrate her basic social programming with her specialized acting and singing mods and her expanded speech databases to help her interact well with strangers. Like dancers, Rayven's in the business of selling herself.

"I'm going over to the tojang to talk with Master Lily about Iruka's trip to Ottawa tomorrow. Do you want to come along?"

Rayven stopped for a moment, then her face brightened. "If you want me to come, I'd be happy to come." Suddenly, the smile slipped from her face as her gaze lowered to the floor. "Still..." her voice trailed off before she took a deep breath. "I'm worried."

I tapped the cell-phone in my pocket. "If something happens to Brenda or Kip or Monica, Anne-Marie knows to call me right away."

A look of relief crossed Rayven's face. "Alright."

"What do you intend to do with this one, Deanna-ya?"

Master Lily and I relaxed in her kitchen/work office, enjoying tea. In the main training hall, Iruka Shiina was busy demonstrating some of the Art's basic moves to Rayven. Since this is summer vacation, regular classes at the tojang weren't being held. It wouldn't be all rest and relaxation time for me, much less my co-teachers, however. In two weeks, special tutorial sessions for the higher keup -- student -- ranks would begin. Through them, we would determine who would be ready to move down the road towards achieving their first dan black belt. I would have to start work to advance myself to i-dan -- second-level black belt -- this year. A tojang owner has to be at least a fourth-level before being allowed to run her own classes without supervision by a higher-ranked teacher.

"She's developing her own self-will, Oumma," I whispered in Korean. Atop speaking in Master Lily's native tongue, we kept the door closed so that Rayven wouldn't overhear this. "It's been growing in bits and pieces since she started to perform with her old owner's band. Trying to determine the best course to take when it came to dealing with the girls' problem forced it along. But given what might happen to them..."

"Would she react so badly to their passing that her mind would simply freeze in place?"

"That's a possibility that can't be ignored."

Lily considered that, then nodded. "So by creating replicas of her bandmates, you'd be forcing Rayven-a to become a teacher herself."

I nodded. "Exactly. Just creating them with IP tech won't make them like Lenn-a, Reika-ya or Irene-a right off the bat."

"Oh?"

"Ne, it's true. Even Lenn-a couldn't have evolved her self-will without outside help, or some defining event. Those are very rare."

"Any news about Marlenn-ssi? Much less what Andrew-ssi discovered about your missing twin sister?"

I shook my head. "None. Drew-ssi knows to contact me the instant he gets any hint about either Marlenn-a or my sister."

"That's good. I must confess, it's shameful that your father did that to your sister. Even more so, to do it behind your mother's back."

"Filial piety only can go so far, Oumma."

"True," Lily agreed with a nod, then we perked up on hearing a knock at the door. "Come!"

It opened to reveal Iruka. A third-generation Japanese-Canadian from the British Columbia interior, she had shocked her parents long ago by electing to study t'ae kwon-do, a Korean martial art, in lieu of karate, judou, ju jitsu, aikidou or any of the other popular native arts. Having graduated from high school this past winter, she intended to attend Carleton University in Ottawa to get her degree in kinesiology and education. Since the Morning Mist Training Hall already has one master teacher and five assistant teachers, Iruka had to turn to another tojang to gain the necessary level of teaching experience. Fortunately for her, Master Lily knew of a fellow teacher from Ottawa who was looking for a new assistant. One phone call to Master Sean later, Iruka got her black belt test scheduled.

All she had to do now was take it. That was scheduled for Thursday morning at the Rideau Academy, Master Sean's tojang.

"What is it, Iruka?" I asked, switching to English.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but are we considering allowing robots to become students?" Iruka wondered, a wry smile crossing her face.

Master Lily and I exchanged a look. "Why do you ask?" my teacher wondered.

"Rayven just asked me about it," Iruka answered.

Master Lily shrugged, thought a moment, then replied. "We'll have to think about it," she sighed. "I know teachers in the 'softer' arts like aikidou and tai chi chuan allow robots to attend classes. The potential for First Law conflicts are lessened. But t'ae kwon-do?"

"Perhaps learning our Art'll teach her how not to hurt someone," I mused.

"Intriguing point," Lily agreed...

The trip to Ottawa was noisy and full of song as Iruka and I put Rayven's singing skills to the test. To my delight, my newest lover knew many more songs than only what the Vee Beemers produced. In this instance, my disdain for thrash meshed well with Rayven's need to think of more positive things. Further, Iruka proved to be of even more benefit given Rayven's surprising interest in studying t'ae kwon-do.

Getting a hotel room in the nation's capital for the day, we proceeded to the Rideau Academy to meet Master Sean O'Malley. A sixty year-old Belfast native who'd spent over four decades in Canada, he is now a seventh-level black belt who had studied with Master Lily's father, the late Grandmaster Bae-dal Choi, in Taegu. Hearing him speak about my own teacher, I quickly sensed that things had once been very intimate between Master Lily and Master Sean. To my surprise and delight, Rayven had also picked up on it. "Why didn't it happen between them?" she asked when we were relaxing in our hotel room on Wednesday night after Rayven and I took a quick tour of Ottawa's tourist traps.

"When they get to that level in the Art, Raye, it's considered very unpolitic to ask," I warned her.

She considered that for a minute, then slowly exhaled. "Even though I talk like a normal person, there're a lot of things about humans that I still find hard to understand," she admitted, walking over to sit close to me. I gazed at her, then wrapped an arm around her. "We humans have problems understanding ourselves a lot." I fell silent as I considered if I should add onto that, then I exhaled myself. "I guess that's why we need robots like you, Raye."

She gazed at me. "If you can't understand yourself and if I can't understand you, how can we resolve this?"

I chuckled, then patted my thigh a couple times. "Apart, we may never resolve it. But together..."

I stared at her. Rayven blinked, then hooded her eyes. A quick glance at her chest revealed her telltale nipples pressing hard against her T-shirt in unspoken response. "Thank you for being there for me, Deanna. Thank you for believing in me and giving me a chance like this."

"I've no other choice, Raye," I admitted. "You have your beliefs, your sense of right and wrong. I have my beliefs, my sense of right and wrong. And my sense of right and wrong tells me, from the day that I met Reika and Irene, that if I meet a robot who is doing her damn best to advance herself, regardless of what's being tossed into her path, I have to acknowledge it, respect it -- and if necessary, help it along." Reaching over, I gently rubbed the palm of my hand on her cheek. "I was lucky with Reika, Irene and Lenn. All three of them developed their self-will to a highly functional degree before I became their owner. With you, however..."

Rayven blinked, then lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, Raye, please! Don't apologize," I grimaced.

Rayven remained silent. I blinked as I remembered the first conversation I had with this girl in Lenn's lab. Recalling Rayven's envious words about my other lovers because they were bi-gendered robots -- not to mention the story about that bi-'bot who had attracted the eye of that fellow in Virginia, passing Rayven over -- I then wondered if I could do something to give my newest lover another small push.

Maybe I could.

But would it work?

Would it...?

Well, it was worth a try.

Reaching over, I pulled Rayven's remote from the small pocket on the inside of her jacket. Seeing me do that, she gave me a curious, yet wary, look. I understood that well. Self-willed robots tend not to like having unexpected commands force-fed to them -- unless it is a command that can help them better operate in an independent way. Hopefully, what I had in mind would be in that vein.

But first...

"Ready?"

"Ready?"

She looked at me, the expression on her face declaring her desire to seek my acceptance of whatever command she intended to give me.

Deanna...

She wanted my trust.

Deanna...

She trusted me.

Deanna...

I had to trust her.

"Okay," I told her.

She pressed my Command button. Any thoughts of my own fled as her voice rang loud and clear throughout my mind.

Rayven, from this day on...

"...use all your knowledge to evolve your behavioural programming so that you can stand as an emotional equal to Reika Aldred, Irene Aldred, Marlenn Ioanis or any other bi-gendered robot you have or may encounter from now on."

I lifted my thumb from Rayven's "C" button. Watching her, I felt a chill course through me as a shocked look crossed her face. She bolted to her feet, her hands reaching for the sides of her head as she started to pace from the bed to the door and back again. Seeing her do this, I was tempted to leap up and comfort her, show her how much I cared for her. I fought that down right away. One of the hardest things I'd to learn as a teacher was to give my students a chance to figure things out on their own. For a robot developing her self-will, a robot who was now my lover and companion, a robot whom I wanted to develop that self-will, that was equally paramount.

After several very long minutes, Rayven stopped, pulling her hands away from her head as she gazed on me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You mean it was that simple?" she hoarsely demanded, her fists clenching as she walked up to gaze into my eyes. "It's that simple?!!"

"Yeah, Raye, it is," I nodded, reaching up to gently wipe the tears away. "It can be. But the folks who made you never wanted you to figure it out. And the folks who're scared of what you're capable of doing wanted to make damn sure that it would be almost impossible for you to figure it out. And the folks who aren't scared of what you're capable of doing..." I shrugged. "Never clue into how easy it is to help you figure it out. And because of that, they often spend a lot of time giving robots screwed-up commands or get punch-happy with your Command button and thrash your mind..." I then took a deep breath. "Always remember that you were never intended to have self-will by those who built you and those who've owned you. And those others like you who have to face that go through sheer Hell to get where you already are.

"And now that you have that, Raye, you have to show responsibility in using it properly. For your benefit as well as for the benefit of those around you, especially me. You don't have to be afraid of people coming down on you in case you make a decision on your own. I won't do that to you. Reika, Irene and Lenn certainly won't do that to you. But you have to demonstrate that you can make the right decisions. You have to show that you can handle the responsibility society gives you as a free, self-willed 'bot. Can you do it, Raye?"