Chapter Thirteen

Aiden

Like a statue, I gape at the words on the screen. Not breathing.

…undeniable failures…

I really did fail.

It is in the best interest of AIR’s finances to start over, recycling as many parts of the project as possible.

“How do you recycle a human being?” I mumble to myself, nearly forgetting Elena is inches away until she speaks.

“Aiden.” She licks her lips and puts a hand against one flushed cheek. “My dad works at AIR. I read some of this on his ComPad the other day. Your name…it’s an acronym. Artificial Intelligence Development and Engineering Neuroscience. My last name is Carter. My dad is Carter.” Despite her flushed cheeks, her skin pales.

“It must be a coincidence. Some kind of mistake.” I look from her to the computer screen. “There’s no way I’m…”

She leans into the desk, using her palms to hold her up. “AIR is the facility you came from, right? They specialize in artificial intelligence. They’re not a medical facility. They build things like snowblowers and decision support aids like Google Home. Why would a place like that treat you like a hospital patient?”

I think back to all the days I spent inside AIR, all the stories I was told of how they saved my life. “They said there have been patients before me, ones they rehabilitated.”

Elena stands straight, rolling her shoulders back, but her face crumbles in despair. “AIR doesn’t work with patients. My dad has said as much. Unless they’re doing something top secret that the public knows nothing about.”

Top secret shit I know nothing about.

My brain spins on overdrive, remembering every conversation I’ve ever had in the past year, down to every last detail. Anxiety floods my system, and it feels like my insides are on fire. “What if instead of memory loss, I simply have no memory because I didn’t exist until a year ago?” Despair roils in my gut. “What if the reason I never met any other patients is because I was the only one? They…used artificial intelligence not to save me, but to build me.” The words burn my tongue, and I cringe.

“Wait.” She wraps her hand around mine. “You’re saying you don’t think you’re…human?” Her voice lowers as she finishes the sentence.

“How else do you explain all these facts?” I clench and unclench my fists. “When you consider my perfect memory, astronomical expertise in mathematics, being fluent in four languages, and having increased speed and strength, doesn’t that sound like something a high tech computer would be capable of?”

“Oh, Aiden.”

Instead of sounding like magic to my ears, my name on her lips scolds me now that I know how wrong it is. How wrong I am.

“Aiden.” She touches my face with both hands, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion and concern. “There must be a different explanation. I’ve been with you for over twenty-four hours. I would know if you weren’t a walking, talking, genuine guy. This can’t—”

“We can’t ignore the truth.” When I interrupt her, she pulls her hands back as though I’d burned her. “This explains everything. It explains the conversation I overheard with Carter and Dr. Niels. Why anyone would think murder was an acceptable decision—they don’t see it as murder, just shutting down a machine. And it perfectly explains the weird tests they gave me—they were Turing tests.”

“Turing tests?”

“They gauge intelligence in a computer. In order to pass, a human must be unable to distinguish the machine from another human.”

“But you said you think you failed?”

In my head, I play through that first meeting with Carter. I answered his questions the way a human would. “I don’t think Carter wanted me to pass the Turing test.”

Her face pales. “Carter…my dad is the one hunting you, condemning you to death. I can’t…” She presses both palms to her eyes and heaves a ragged breath. “How could my dad spend any length of time with you and not see your death as anything other than murder? He’s not a murderer. You’re not a robot!”

I want nothing more than to join her denial, even if just for a few minutes. But we don’t have that kind of time. Besides, who am I to disbelieve the facts staring us in the face? Never mind trying to come to terms with it.

“What if I am?”

Elena drops her hands to her sides. A horrified look has overtaken her face. I can’t say if I’m doing a better job at concealing my emotions. But I know if I give in to them, we’ll fall a few steps behind.

“Look—out the window.” Before I have time to move, she screeches, “It’s a cop car!”

As soon as I stand, another cop car pulls up behind the first.

“We could’ve triggered a silent alarm,” she says quickly, waving a hand through the air. “Or someone could’ve seen us. Followed us. We need to go. Now.”

I make a move for the door but remember the computer and what I’d been trying to pull up. “Zoe’s home address, we never found it.”

Fear flashes in her eyes. “There are at least two cops outside, and who knows if more are coming? We can’t wait.”

I agree with her, but without contacting Dr. Miller, our trip to her office will be a waste. So I sink back down in the chair and try to find what I’m looking for.

A siren wails in the distance, spiking my nerves. Elena paces in a two-square-foot radius, rubbing her hands together.

“Don’t let them see you through the window,” I say.

“They know we’re here. How will that matter?” Her voice is two octaves too high, but I don’t blame her for being freaked out.

“One more minute,” I say.

She starts to speak, but a loud thud stops her. The noise came from downstairs, most likely the main door. Time is up.

I spot what I’m looking for just as Elena grabs my hand and tugs.

“Come on,” she says. “We have to go.”

I follow her toward the door, and we both exit to the hallway that separates the different offices. But coming up the only set of stairs are a couple of cops, their heads popping into view. I pull Elena back into Dr. Miller’s office.

“That’s the only way out,” she protests.

“It’s not a way out.” Not with the cops climbing the steps.

“What are we going to do from here?”

My gaze darts around the room, desperate for a solution. I see only one, and I don’t like it. With a groan I say, “The window.”

The curve of her brow deepens. “We’re on the second level.”

“I’ll go down first so I’ll be there at the bottom to catch you.”

“Won’t you get hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me,” I say as I go to the window and unlatch it.

“You know, I’ve always found that sentiment to be highly unfair.”

Despite everything, I chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”

The screenless window slides open with no issue. But it’s not the getting-out part that concerns me, it’s the getting down. Still, I don’t hesitate for more than a moment. Long enough to glance down and think just how much a fall might hurt. I put my legs through and search for anything to let them rest on. I find nothing, so I twist slowly as I work the rest of my body all the way out. By the time I’m hanging, holding on by only my hands, I hear loud, muffled voices.

Elena swings her head toward the door, then back at me. “We’ve got like five seconds.”

I release my grip on the windowsill and ready my legs for the impact. Something slides against my left forearm, leaving a wound that pulses with pain.

“Damn it,” I mumble as I roll through my landing. But it’s the only attention my arm gets before I’m calling for Elena to jump.

She does, and I use my arms to catch her, ignoring the pain.

“Thank God, you caught me.”

“What, you doubted me?” I flash her a quick grin.

She gives me a crooked smile, and I reluctantly drop my arms from around her and grab her hand. Shouts come from the second story of the office building. Neither of us bother looking back.