vibrating as the room slowly spun, and through the window she saw the rest of the Shawl apparently rotating as it receded into the distance.
Someone was calling to her. “Judy, wake up! We’ve got trouble.”
The voice was coming from her console. Judy rolled across the low bed and picked it up from the floor. She puffed a dose of something to wake her quickly.
“What is it, Frances?”
The lights slowly came up to brightness in her room. The console showed that Frances was waiting in her lounge.
“Thirty-seven minutes ago one of the EA’s monitoring AIs noticed a ship sending a diminishing narrow-beam signal off into the middle of nowhere, a patch of space thirty-two degrees above the solar plane, and four AUs out. High-resolution scans of the region revealed a processing space floating out there.”
“A pirate space?” Judy said, rolling out of bed. “Frances, get in here! Why are you lurking in the living room?” She pulled on a long white kosode, the intelligent material lazily tightening around her body.
“I know how funny you are about your…privacy.” Frances sounded indignant.
“I’m not a body fetishist. Anyway, you’re a robot. Just get in here.”
“I’m coming. Listen, a number of your digital selves went in there. They almost caught Kevin.”
Judy dipped her fingertip into a blob of makeup and felt the tiny VNMs rushing to cover her hand. Frances slid open the paper door to Judy’s bedroom and stepped carefully inside. The robot elegantly complemented the simple Japanese décor of Judy’s apartment; Frances had had her body built to her own design and had made no attempt to look more than vaguely human. She was covered in lustrous golden metal, her head a smooth bullet shape upon which had been painted a bright white smile and two blue eyes. Other than that, her body was entirely featureless save for one thing, the only physical indicator of Frances’ mindset: between her legs was a set of numbered push buttons.
As Judy serenely dipped her toe into the makeup, the robot began opening viewing fields. Patches of color sprang to life around the room, vivid against the calm yellow wood and rice-paper panels. Frances walked over to the low bed and continued with her explanation.
“Just as we managed to fix our feed into the processing space, the Private Network detonated an explosive charge attached to the antenna. They’ve seeded the processing space with something on the order of fifteen hundred billion memory leaks. It’s deflating like an old balloon: it will be gone in about three minutes.”
As the robot spoke, a series of pictures ran across one of the viewing fields. Judy saw a matte-black lozenge hanging in space, and she gave a shiver. The poor individuals trapped inside it would be generally unaware of their true situation: personality constructs running in a tiny processing space, floating invisibly in empty space. A little pocket of hell, abandoned to the mercy of the unseen perverts who made use of the Private Network. It was easy to feel what it was like in there. Empathy was her job, after all.
She picked up a band and used it to pull her long black hair back from her face, glancing around the other viewing fields as she did so. Digital Judys were moving around inside the processing space with a calm purpose that made her feel rather proud. With the comm link broken, they were effectively marooned, and yet they quietly got on with their work without fuss.
She nodded and followed their example.
“We’ve been in worse situations than this in the past. How confident are you of getting them out of there, Frances?”
“I’ll tell you in about thirty-five seconds. As I said, the comm link isn’t entirely gone. I’ve managed to force a narrow path through the remnants of the antenna. Now I just need to find a way to slow down those leaks sufficiently…”
Judy tore a piece of black paper from a pad and moistened it with her lips, little VNMs creeping across the
Someone was calling to her. “Judy, wake up! We’ve got trouble.”
The voice was coming from her console. Judy rolled across the low bed and picked it up from the floor. She puffed a dose of something to wake her quickly.
“What is it, Frances?”
The lights slowly came up to brightness in her room. The console showed that Frances was waiting in her lounge.
“Thirty-seven minutes ago one of the EA’s monitoring AIs noticed a ship sending a diminishing narrow-beam signal off into the middle of nowhere, a patch of space thirty-two degrees above the solar plane, and four AUs out. High-resolution scans of the region revealed a processing space floating out there.”
“A pirate space?” Judy said, rolling out of bed. “Frances, get in here! Why are you lurking in the living room?” She pulled on a long white kosode, the intelligent material lazily tightening around her body.
“I know how funny you are about your…privacy.” Frances sounded indignant.
“I’m not a body fetishist. Anyway, you’re a robot. Just get in here.”
“I’m coming. Listen, a number of your digital selves went in there. They almost caught Kevin.”
Judy dipped her fingertip into a blob of makeup and felt the tiny VNMs rushing to cover her hand. Frances slid open the paper door to Judy’s bedroom and stepped carefully inside. The robot elegantly complemented the simple Japanese décor of Judy’s apartment; Frances had had her body built to her own design and had made no attempt to look more than vaguely human. She was covered in lustrous golden metal, her head a smooth bullet shape upon which had been painted a bright white smile and two blue eyes. Other than that, her body was entirely featureless save for one thing, the only physical indicator of Frances’ mindset: between her legs was a set of numbered push buttons.
As Judy serenely dipped her toe into the makeup, the robot began opening viewing fields. Patches of color sprang to life around the room, vivid against the calm yellow wood and rice-paper panels. Frances walked over to the low bed and continued with her explanation.
“Just as we managed to fix our feed into the processing space, the Private Network detonated an explosive charge attached to the antenna. They’ve seeded the processing space with something on the order of fifteen hundred billion memory leaks. It’s deflating like an old balloon: it will be gone in about three minutes.”
As the robot spoke, a series of pictures ran across one of the viewing fields. Judy saw a matte-black lozenge hanging in space, and she gave a shiver. The poor individuals trapped inside it would be generally unaware of their true situation: personality constructs running in a tiny processing space, floating invisibly in empty space. A little pocket of hell, abandoned to the mercy of the unseen perverts who made use of the Private Network. It was easy to feel what it was like in there. Empathy was her job, after all.
She picked up a band and used it to pull her long black hair back from her face, glancing around the other viewing fields as she did so. Digital Judys were moving around inside the processing space with a calm purpose that made her feel rather proud. With the comm link broken, they were effectively marooned, and yet they quietly got on with their work without fuss.
She nodded and followed their example.
“We’ve been in worse situations than this in the past. How confident are you of getting them out of there, Frances?”
“I’ll tell you in about thirty-five seconds. As I said, the comm link isn’t entirely gone. I’ve managed to force a narrow path through the remnants of the antenna. Now I just need to find a way to slow down those leaks sufficiently…”
Judy tore a piece of black paper from a pad and moistened it with her lips, little VNMs creeping across the
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