John sat in his cabin aboard the New Hope and stared steadily at the image of his Executive Assistant, Debra Wilbur. She had a stunningly beautiful face. For the first ti, John wondered how much plastic surgery it had required, and how painful it had been for her. Not everything is my business. He waited for her reaction.
"You're serious."
"I am."
She was also very sharp. "Sir, is this a Upper Division issue?" Upper Division was one of their code phrases; it ant Under Duress.
"No."
"But...fifteen percent?"
"I was thinking of twenty-five, but decided to take it slow."
"Could we take it slower?" his assistant urged emphatically.
John considered. "That would placate the Board. It would also kick the fight down the road, but let's face it—we don't know who is still going to be alive a week from now. Very well, make it five percent, but for your personal reference, more increases will be coming soon."
"Across all employees? In every Division? A five percent raise across the board?"
He paused. "Fair point. What do you think of your own, personal remuneration?"
Debra blinked, but otherwise kept her surprise out of her expression. "My salary?" She shrugged. "Well, more is always better, obviously, but...are you concerned about my loyalty, Sir?"
"No. Should I be?" John teased.
"No, no, of course not!"
"All right, then. Give yourself a twenty-five percent raise, no need to dance around it with you. Actually, do that will all my direct personal staff. Hm, I don't an to imply I undervalue your importance. Give yourself a fifty percent raise."
"Sir, I...thank you, Sir. May I ask what is prompting this? Have you learned sothing up there?"
John made a sour smile. "I have learned a great many things, and not all of them have been pleasant." He sighed, and tried to think of how to give her a better answer. "The doctor claims that she's added about thirty years to my lifespan. It's enabling to take sothing of a longer view, and I'm making strategic adjustnts. Worker loyalty is going to be an increasingly important issue, for reasons I'll explain later. Understood?"
"Fifty percent raise for myself, twenty-five percent for the rest of your personal staff, and five percent raises for all employees of TM Industries." Debra paused. "What should I tell the Board when they inquire about the five percent?"
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John smiled thinly. "Tell them it's ti to throw the workers a bone to stabilize TM Industries during this ti of upheaval. If they press, tell them I'm trying to keep mbers of the Board from getting assassinated by ddling aliens."
"Yes, Sir. And what should I tell Carn?"
John snorted. "Tell her I was visited by three ghosts."
Debra smiled faintly, assuming it was a private joke. "Yes, Sir."
"We're also going to need to review so of our contracts with companies whose CEOs or owners have been killed. Work up a preliminary breakdown of our supply chains, in terms of...leadership turnover. Spend a day on it," he added, to tell her how much detail he wanted.
"I'll get right on it, Sir."
"Now, I still should be resting and recovering, so I'm signing off. I'd be a fool not to follow Dr. Vickall's orders. I'll call again in twelve hours."
"Yes, Sir. And...thank you, Sir." John nodded and ended the call.
He looked down at himself and sighed. He had put one of his regular suits on for the call. It was a struggle to figure out how much to hide and how to explain his actions without revealing that he had gained the curse of empathy. This is going to take so finesse.
A short while later, his brooding was interrupted. "Mr. Throckmorton?"
John's head snapped up and he started looking around, before he realized that he recognized the voice. It was Petra, the mysterious 'UMP' he'd been briefed on. The AI is calling ? Why not just pass the ssage on?
"Yes, Petra?"
"What is guilt?"
John blinked slowly. "Is that a rhetorical question?"
"No."
Is the AI trying to evaluate sohow? "Why do you want to know?"
"I want to understand emotions better. There's a lot I don't get."
"Are...emotions new to you?"
"I don't know."
"But, you don't understand them?"
"I understand happiness and sadness and pain, and I have definitions of a lot more, but those are the only ones I calculate over 99% confidence that I understand and can feel."
Happiness and sadness and pain. And she believes that she feels them. "That's very interesting, Petra. How did you learn those three?"
"I figured out the happiness-sadness axis when I started emulating sapience. Maggie taught pain, and tried to teach anger and fear and humor and guilt, but I don't get those yet."
Fearing that he already knew the answer, he asked, "And why are you asking about guilt?"
"Because emotions are new to you, right? I tried asking babies, but all they said was ABABABA, or PTTTHPT, or things like that. You can say words."
The incongruity of that explanation startled a faint laugh out of John, which was followed by a small stab of pain in his chest. He wondered how much of that was psychosomatic, but...laughing hurt, now. It felt as if he would need to relearn how to laugh, and when.
Emotions are new to ? In a way, I suppose. I felt a lot of these already; I just didn't apply them to other people. And a lot of them, I didn't let myself feel, because I thought they were weaknesses.
"Yes, Petra. I think I understand. I...understand so emotions better than others. Why are you asking about guilt in particular, instead of other emotions?" He thought he knew, but wanted confirmation. Instead, the answer surprised him.
"Because Nick is feeling big guilt and I want to understand it. Guilt is making him unhappy, and I want him to be happy."
I want him to be happy.
A simple, innocuous statent, yet it felt as if it were a sledgehamr crashing into his chest. John's throat got tight. A baby AI already cares more about humans than I ever did.
Is this my penance?
He took a couple of deep breaths before answering. His words felt heavy, important. "Well, Petra, I think we both could learn a lot about this from each other. Let see what you've figured out so far."
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