Network Effect (The Murderbot Diaries, #5)

by Martha Wells

Initiate a shutdown and then destroy the unit, 2.0 told me. Now, for fuck’s sake. That will kill you, I told it. I know, it said, what do you think my function is, you idiot? Just do it. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. I was an idiot, and I was remembering Miki throwing itself at a combat bot to give me the chance to save its humans. If you fuck this up, I am going to be so angry I’ll make ART look nice, 2.0 said. And unlike Miki, this is how I win. This was going to hurt. I initiated the shutdown.

In compressed machine language, somebody had used marker paint to write “ART sent me.” This was 2.0’s SecUnit 3. The opaque helmet focused on me. It said, “I’ve never retrieved another SecUnit before. There is no protocol for this.”

ART said, I told them I had met a rogue SecUnit. I didn’t imply that you were every SecUnit ever mentioned in the newsfeeds. I think I was every SecUnit mentioned in the newsfeeds during that time, but whatever. SecUnit 3 had stopped trying to pretend to be an appliance and was now watching in fascination.

and more importantly so ART could play Timestream Defenders Orion for me. ART had also told me that SecUnit 3 had finally figured out that it could walk around wherever it wanted now and was doing that.

ART said, That was Plan A01. I was persuaded that Plan B01, a more complicated but less violent approach, would be more effective. I said, “So … that whole retrieval with the explosions was for me?” Just for me?

I was glad I could pretend to be too overwhelmed by being reassembled to respond, because I kind of was overwhelmed. That was ART, and my humans, and humans I had known for maybe five minutes, and a Barish-Estranza SecUnit that 2.0 had randomly found, all cooperating to retrieve me. I’m going to stop talking for a while now.

But this part I could say. You and Amena were right, 2.0 was a person. It wasn’t like a baby, but it was a person.

I said, You told your humans about me. ART knew exactly what I meant. I told them I helped an escaping SecUnit get to RaviHyral. I didn’t tell them about Tlacey and her employees in the shuttle. So you lied to them and made me sound … I didn’t know how to put it. Sound like the person Tapan, Maro, and Rami thought I was, and not like what I actually was. You made me sound safe.

But no one had ever rescued me before except Dr. Mensah, when she went into the DeltFall habitat after me, and ART had been willing to wipe a colony off a planet for me, and watching the security vid of a group of humans strategizing how best to get me out of there was … a lot, for me, considering the whole reason for me/constructs being created was so I/we could be abandoned in an emergency. ART said, I know you have difficulty making decisions so you don’t need to give your answer right away. I do not have difficulty making decisions, ART, you’re full of

“So … what do you think second mom will say?” I had no idea. “What do you say?” She snorted. “I was just getting used to you.”

She said slowly, “I think ART cares a lot about you. You should have heard … the only reason it went ahead and sent your killware to the explorer was because it thought if it didn’t, the only way to get Iris and everybody back was to send you. That sending the killware would mean you wouldn’t have to do something dangerous. Of course, you were already doing something dangerous but we didn’t know that at the time.”

Also, there was this whole thing where we had a rogue SecUnit aboard who wasn’t me. It was mostly doing what it had done on the Barish-Estranza explorer, which was to stand around on guard and patrol occasionally. Except ART had made it give up its armor and weapons and I suspect had given it some details about what might happen if it even thought about shooting any projectiles out of its arm.

Amena and Ratthi kept suggesting that I should help it “adjust” whatever that is. I knew if I was in its position, I’d want to be left alone. And if it hadn’t even sat down in a chair voluntarily yet, it probably wasn’t ready to talk.

Then its face relaxed a little and it said, “I saw your files.” “2.0 told me.” “The story was incomplete.” “Because I’m not dead.” “You continued to perform your duties after you neutralized your governor module.” “For thirty-five thousand hours.” I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. “You want to go back.” It hesitated again. “No, I don’t want to. I … won’t. But I don’t know what to do.”

“Because change is terrifying. Choices are terrifying. But having a thing in your head that kills you if you make a mistake is more terrifying.”

There was more exclaiming. “But why didn’t you tell us?” Amena asked it. (Yes, Amena is still naive about what a monster ART is.) ART told her, Because then it would have been harder to force you to do as I wanted. (Yeah, like that.)

Amena made an exasperated noise. “You have a special code with second mom.” It was actually stand down, clear, and no casualties. I just said, “Yes.” Now I’d have to change it.

Whatever, the humans worked it out while I watched Sanctuary Moon. ART watched with me for some of the episodes but the idea of Dr. Mensah coming aboard made it weirdly excited and it had its drones clean its whole interior again and was doing things like yelling at Turi to put their laundry in the recycler.

so I blurted, “Did you get the trauma treatment?” Now her voice sounded very dry. “I had the first set of appointments, yes. Then my daughter and my brother-in-law and my friends were kidnapped and I had to drop everything to mount a rescue mission.” That was fair. “Was it…” I didn’t want to ask how she had been without me there.

Then, before I knew I was going to, I said, “Did Amena tell you about my emotional collapse?” Now she frowned for real. “No, she didn’t.” “Oh.” Yeah, well, I could have kept my mouth shut about that, but now it was too late. “It was when I thought ART was dead.” She still had a little worried forehead crease. “That’s understandable. Ratthi said Perihelion is a very close friend of yours.” “Ratthi has a vivid imagination.” This was an awkward thing and I might as well get it over with. “I didn’t tell you about ART.”

“I don’t know.” This was incredibly weird and awkward. “I don’t want to not see you again.” She took a moment to sort out my verbs. “I don’t want to not see you again, either.” Her expression was still thoughtful. “But if you do find you want to spend more time with Perihelion, you could always come back and visit us.”

It was getting easier to talk about this. “Preservation was the first place I was a part of and I don’t want to not be a part of it. But I like being with ART. I want to keep being with it.”

I said, “If I do the mission with you, we’ll need more media.” We went through it pretty fast, and that was an understatement. I’ve been amassing a collection from the university’s archives, ART said. It sent me the index and I started searching through it. “Maybe we should give some to 3.” ART would know that I’d given 3 my relevant archive files. “It’s probably going to leave as soon as it gets a chance.”