Every screen on the wall – every screen in the building, North hazarded – came alive at the same moment, as the video rewound then started to play.
Esme threw herself back over the keyboard. The video paused for a second, as if she’d succeeded in shutting it down, then stuttered into life. She hammered the keyboard, and again the video ground to a halt – before starting over.
It could have been the backup system starting up. But afterwards, North thought the video was Syd’s revenge. Because the screens weren’t showing any connection between the machine and the outside world. Instead, they showed Tobias in a dinner jacket, with a black tie undone around his neck, working at his desk at the British Museum. Footage of Tobias on the night of the terrorist attack at the gala, in what had to be the final minutes of his life and shot from a dozen different angles.
It was six minutes before the shooting – the time code counted down on the twelfth screen. The sound of footsteps echoed through the speakers, getting closer.
‘I’m nearly there,’ he said, but he didn’t look up as his wife walked in. ‘Paulie delayed me. Why the hell did you tell him to come? And can you do my tie for me? Two minutes.’
‘Paulie’s not the problem.’ Esme’s tone brooked no argument.
Tobias glanced up at her, his brow furrowed.
‘We never lied to each other when Atticus was ill,’ she said. ‘That honesty is what kept me alive. It’s terrifying to know someone else’s pain that way, and to allow them to know yours.’
Tobias pressed one more button before resting his elbows on the desk and running his fingers through the mane of white hair. Not as a gesture of narcissism, North realized, but in a bid to soothe himself. ‘I haven’t forgotten Atticus, Esme.’ There was a slight shake of the head. ‘Atticus is where I start and finish. He’s my way into everything – our son is everything I do.’ His eyes closed as if he didn’t want to see what was around him, for fear it might hurt.
‘If only that was true, Tobias. Do you know how it feels for me to realize that what we built together is based on lies?’
‘“What we built together” is the future of humanity.’ Tobias’s voice travelled up a notch. ‘Step out of the dark ages, darling, please. All I was doing was protecting you.’
‘How dare you presume to protect me from the truth!’ She faced him over the desk, resting her weight on clenched fists.
‘Esme, we’ve been through this.’ Tobias’s tone was the epitome of reason. ‘The money for our weapons work funded everything else we’ve been able to do. You were never meant to find out. I never wanted you to get hurt.’
‘But I did find out. And I am hurt.’
‘Forget the weapons for a moment.’
‘Forget the lethal autonomous weapons that make their own minds up about when to kill children? Kill. Children. You’re a murderer, Tobias. You were party to mass murder.’
Across the desk from her, Tobias held up both hands in apparent surrender. ‘Whatever. But focus on what matters tonight, which is Syd – Syd is bigger than any of this.’
‘Tobias, stop and think. You and Syd created a system that can decide to crash a car.’
‘It’s a defensive system, aimed at armoured vehicles and tanks on the battlefield. What happened to you in the Lamborghini was because Kirkham’s people hacked it. The man is a monster and Rafferty is no better – Syd wasn’t to blame.’
‘Not that time, maybe. Not until Syd decides to redefine the nature of the battlefield. Three weeks ago, Syd was an artificial intelligence with extraordinary capacity and potential, but Syd was not conscious before it killed those boys in the bunker. Syd was born out of the blood of children! What do you think that says about its evolutionary path? You have to tell the people waiting out there that we can’t ever, and I mean ever, release Syd into the world…’
‘Esme, the death of those boys was a horror show. But Syd’s behaviour that day was an anomaly. Coming into this world was a painful bloody business for Syd, just as it is for each of us. Syd messed up, but we all mess up sometimes.’
‘I’ve told Chin where those boys are buried.’ Esme folded her arms across her chest, her jaw squared. ‘Someone has to know what you and this government are capable of. And it’s become very obvious that I might not get to live that long.’
For a second, North thought Tobias might hit his wife, but he didn’t. Instead, he shook his head. The self-belief of the man astonished him.
‘You shouldn’t have done that. Look…’ – he sounded mulish all of a sudden – ‘… the exercise was designed to iron out the glitches in the system. I admit it was one hell of a glitch. But it “woke” something in the system – a consciousness. The same consciousness that helped save your life the other day, Esme.’
‘Tobias.’ Esme was on the edge, North thought, but she brought herself back. ‘Look around. We are standing in a museum. Homo sapiens evolved three hundred thousand years ago. Ninety thousand years ago, we started making fishing tools. Twelve thousand years ago, we were at the start of farming and herding animals. How far we’ve come in such a short amount of time is astonishing. Syd threatens our survival. You must warn the people standing out there waiting for you. Give mankind time to prepare, to consider the consequences. Time to figure out how to control what you’ve created.’
On screen, Tobias was shaking his head. The magnificent white mane of hair. Condescending and working hard to hide it. ‘You underestimate yourself, Esme, and you’re underestimating Syd. You’ve taught an artificial intelligence to have a conscience. Compassion. Empathy. Syd has moral agency. Defending us from enemies that mean us harm is a moral action.’
Tobias was convinced his judgement was right. Because he was always right about everything. He was certain he could persuade the woman in front of him, the woman who loved him, that he was right, as he had persuaded her so many times before. He rose and took her in his arms. Held her against him. Her head against his chest.
‘We can’t wait, Esme. Syd is too big. The government will try to take her from us. We have to get ahead of them or they will keep her caged. In a way, Syd is our child too. She’s growing and learning and understanding. She’s thriving. And like any good mother, Esme, you taught your child to grasp what life is. She needs to step out into the world. Let her go.’
For a second, Esme was still against him, barely seeming to breathe. Then she spoke. ‘Syd is not my child and Syd is not a “she”.’ With the flat of her hand against his white shirt front, she pushed her husband away from her. Tobias turned back to the desk, sat down, drew himself in again, ready to work, to finish what had to be finished. A detail. ‘All right, “he”.’
‘Syd is an “it”.’ Esme moved over to lean against him as if she couldn’t keep herself away. ‘You’re an extraordinary man, Tobias.’ Stooping, she kissed his cheek and Tobias looked up at her, as if he had never seen anything quite so beautiful before in his life. He kissed the palm of her hand, then let it go.
North watched the seconds tick down in the corner of the screen. Waiting for Tobias to confess he had unboxed Syd. Waiting for Esme to storm out.
‘But if I stand by and let this happen, I’m as complicit as you,’ Esme said. ‘And I refuse to leave the fate of humanity to Syd…’ – her hand dipped into her petalled bag – ‘… when there’s something I can do to stop it.’
In the room, Bald Paulie closed his eyes.
On every camera on every screen was the view of Esme holding a gun. Her finger tightened on the trigger and she fired the 9mm bullet into her husband’s stomach. A wisp of smoke rose from the barrel of the Sammy 817. Crimson splattered over one of the screens, then over all of them. Everywhere they looked – blood.