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Paul felt a little strange going back to the alley where he had been attacked by Kolek and his cronies. It brought back bad memories of the confrontation and especially the feeling of helplessness that he had experienced. He’d felt distant that night, unable to defend himself – it was almost as if he had been experiencing the assault third-hand. Now he was walking back into the lion’s den and reliving the incident but with far greater intensity. He could almost physically feel himself being shoved around, and then the wrenching of his eyes from their sockets. It was a very unpleasant feeling.
But something good had come out of that night too. Of course, it had been sheer luck that Philip had happened to be in just the right place at just the right time, but that event had changed Paul’s existence completely. A new world had opened up before him; a world where nobody was his master, a world where he had autonomy over his own actions, a world where he could make his own choices.
Choice and the control of one’s own destiny are possibly the most valuable rights that any sapient being can possess. But these rights come at a price, and the cost is ownership of the consequence of one’s actions.
Coppélia had had the illusion of choice as to whether she should make the journey to Proxima b or not but, sapient as she was, she had no way to enforce that choice. She – especially being the first of her kind – had no rights. Rights were for organics; even animals had limited rights. Coppélia was a robot, a tool, every bit as expendable as the Mars Explorer Rovers that had landed on Mars the previous century.
The paradox of the Coppélia Project was that her ability to experience the exoplanet emotionally was mission-critical. Without that capacity her mission would have been pointless – she would simply have been a data-collecting more robust cousin of Planetary Rover Vehicles. Her human friend, Karen Chambers, had fought for rights for sapient androids with limited success but even she couldn’t have foreseen the advent of the truly sapient androids that were now integrated into society.
Serena, the sophont manager of the bordello where Paul had first met Sylas, knew exactly what she was doing when she entered the alley. She knew that she was at risk of being scooped but she also trusted in Paul and Philip’s ability to prevent it from happening. She was the honeypot that would attract Kolek and his gang into the trap. Despite snow laying on the ground, she was dressed in minimal clothing – a cropped plain white T-shirt which swayed slightly in the icy breeze as she walked, a pair of extremely tight-fitting black leather shorts that hugged her bottom in a vice-like grip, and black high-heeled shoes that would challenge any human woman to stay upright, let alone walk in a straight line. Serena’s Virtual Gyroscopic Equilibrium system compensated perfectly for the precarious footwear and gave her an elegant poise and composure. It was still clear for all to see that she was an android.
She strode through the alley with all the confidence of a catwalk model, silently smiling at the thought of how predictable human males were. They wouldn’t be able to resist a lone sex-bot on her way to the conversion station.
And so it proved. She hadn’t got very far before she found herself surrounded by Kolek and his friends. The gang-leader was surprised to see a sex-bot in his territory – it wasn’t often that a female sophont wandered into his alley. This one must be running low on charge to be taking this short-cut. Per his usual strategy, Kolek blocked her path, just as he had done to scores of sophonts in the past. He twirled his baseball bat in his right hand, although beating the sex-bot wasn’t the fate he had in mind for Serena.
“Hello, darlin’. Where you off to then?”
Serena said nothing and attempted to walk around him.
“Not so fast, bitch. I asked you a question. Where are you off to? Got a client to shag somewhere? ‘Cos I know you’re a sex-bot. You don’t even try to hide it.”
His friends closed in a little, making any escape more difficult. Serena still said nothing. Kolek was enjoying flexing his territorial muscles.
“You look classy. Expensive. I got no money, but I fancy a bit of you. You reckon you can fit me and my mates in? Special offer, like? Group discount? And, by that, I do mean free.”
He reached forward to grab Serena’s right breast but was halted by a voice behind him.
“I’d keep your hands to yourself if I were you.”
Kolek turned to see Paul restraining Ulrich and Tibor, using just enough force to prevent them from going anywhere, but not seriously hurting them. Kolek didn’t feel at all threatened by the unexpected appearance of his previous victim.
“You, again? Didn’t you learn last time? Don’t worry about him, guys. He can’t hurt you.”
His two friends weren’t so sure about that. Paul had a very secure grip on their arms, a grip which he tightened slightly to show he meant business. Ulrich winced.
“I dunno, Kolek. He’s bloody strong.”
“The Three Laws will protect you, mate. Don’t worry about it.”
Tibor grimaced as he felt the pressure increase on his arm again.
“I think he’s forgotten those bloody laws.”
Kolek’s attention was suddenly distracted from Paul by a third voice. He spun around to see Niko similarly restrained by a third sophont.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It had to be you, didn’t it?”
Philip nodded.
“It had to be me.”
Kolek didn’t want another physical confrontation with Philip.
“Look, I ain’t done nothing to her. Honest. She’s in perfect condition. Mint. Look at her.”
He struggled to think of a bargaining chip that may end this conflict amicably.
“Let me go and I’ll stop metalhead bashing. I promise.”
Philip’s response was not what he was expecting.
“I don’t want you to stop. Not yet, anyway. I have a job for you – one last job, let’s say – that requires your special talents. Think of it as your swansong.”
Kolek was interested. It sounded like he may be able to get out of this situation in one piece.
“And you’ll let me go?”
“Yes.”
Niko reminded his friend that he wasn’t the only one whose safety was at stake.
“And the rest of us?”
Philip nodded.
“All four of you.”
Kolek felt a little more comfortable now.
“What do I have to do?”
“We want you to acquire somebody for us.”
“Has to be a metalhead – ‘cos I don’t do humans. I’ve got principles, you know.”
Philip doubted that.
“It’s a sophont, not a meathead.”
Kolek’s arrogance returned, now that it seemed he wasn’t in any real danger.
“Then why can’t you do it? You’re plenty strong enough.”
Philip ignored the question.
“If you do this for us, we can forget about this little incident – but you stop after this one last job. I’ll be watching you – if you don’t stop, I’ll know. And the consequences won’t be very pleasant, I can tell you.”
Kolek had no doubt that the android meant what he said. Philip wasn’t like the others.
“Who’s the mark?”
“The target is a sophont called Franz. I’ll send a holo-image.”
“You ain’t got me number.”
Philip gave Kolek a glance that told him that he was mistaken.
“I’ve got everybody’s number.”
The young thug sniffed.
“Where will I find this Franz?”
“The other side of town.”
“Will he fight back?”
“No. He’s regular.”
“Not like you two then.”
“Not like us three, no.”