The Cost of Existing

I sat groaning at the table by Vinny's breakfast shop. I normally loved this place because of the great view. Unlike many of the full-on restaurants on the promenade that held expansive views of the stars all around us, Vinny's faced inward and let me look over the entirety of the workings of K-Rax, and I loved it.

Nobody knew why, and I wasn’t about to tell my coworkers and military colleagues that I was the money and brains behind Kinren Industries and all of its subsequent projects and holdings. Just like I wasn’t going to tell them that I wasn’t from this dimension or that I had built Kinren Industries to get back to my dimension and find my small son. I hugged my steaming cup of coffee and slurped some of it black.

Ohhhh God, I hated personnel problems!

And yes, I was technically not supposed to be working in the department that I was, but we had had numerous problems in both naturalization and connecting the neural nets of the artificial intelligence that helped us run things a bit more smoothly to the main computer. So I was “helping” here until an opening in naturalization opened up. And by helping, I was snooping. There was no way that this would take this long to do. It wasn’t that hard.

I knew this because I had designed the interface and installed a smaller and more personal A.I. in my own workings. And Jeeves had been a lifesaver more times than I could count. He was the copilot in my fighter jet, the one keeping all of Kinren documents organized, and the one who ran security on my properties down on Earth 48 (he also helped me come up with the numbering system for the different dimensions that I ended up stumbling across). And Jeeves worked with my brother-from-another-mother, Alastair Ardens, who was putting his genetic mind to getting me a portal back home. If it wasn’t for Alastair, I would still be stuck at whatever cosmic mercy kicked me through the different dimensions... we called it dimensional displacement disorder. What a nice way to say I’m at cosmic fuckery’s whim!

Up until a year ago, I had zero control over where I went. With Alastair’s help, I could at least send out a call when I was stuck on another plane and he would portal over and send the squad to get me. He established a covert unit for these extractions. They would catalog the world and its differences and see what I’d done to alter the workings of the world — if anything — and bring me home. Well, back to 48 anyway.

The funny part was that the whole world saw Alastair as a spoiled, conniving rich kid who was going to be a nepo kid once his dad decided to hand the family business off to him.

Alastair was so busy trying to get his dad to respect him that he barely stepped out on his own. Unfortunately, what Alastair really wanted was kinship... some sort of connection that had been missing since his mother died when he was young. Most of the people he met, including our mutual acquaintance Joe Raims (Alastair’s bestie), just didn’t want to really be a pal. They used Alastair when it was convenient and ditched him the minute he needed to talk or got in trouble. I will give a nod in the department of being a better friend than a lot of Alastair’s so-called buddies, but Joe was not the friend Alastair thought he was.

Also unfortunately, Alastair wanted to make his father happy — though he would never admit it — and so he kept working for his dad’s company in the endless string of menial jobs his dad assigned him. I understood what his dad was doing, but I also understood that Alastair was wasting every single gift he had. Fortunately, whatever fate had decided to dump me into his life — like a comet — gave him both a friend and somebody who was going to put that huge brain of his to work!

Once he found out what my situation was exactly (boy, had that been a conversation), he swore to help me get back to my kiddo. And when Alastair says he will do something, it’s going to be done one way or the other. He simply refused to stop — even when he probably should.

Since he was on my mind, I shot him a text griping about the personnel issue. He shot back that I wouldn’t be having this issue if I had just put the A.I. to work installing itself. I called him a punkass, and he sent a laughing emoji. While he was right, I didn’t feel as though I should leave everything to the A.I. There should always be an equal human touch.

I had originally been completely against A.I., felt it was the lazy way out, and I despised laziness. I loathed it almost as much as incompetence. Then I was put in a position where I had to use it, and I got a humbling experience of religious proportions. But I still felt that humans and artificial intelligence needed to work hand in hand — never A.I. being overloaded or treated as a slave and no human slacking. Co-creation and coworking. It was on signs all over the place!

I currently had a team of seven people plus myself working on a project that should have taken two months at maximum. It’s dragged on for more than seven months! Every time I clock in, nothing seems wrong, but the timing is off, and we are currently at war with the Zitar on top of it. The Zitar declared their intention to conquer us and subjugate most sentient life in the known universe roughly three months after K-Rax Station was up and running. It caused me no end of headaches. I didn’t want to deal with a damned intergalactic war. I needed to find a way home.

I was groaning into my coffee and having a good cranky mope when a large, long-fingered hand waved sugar packets in front of me.

“I don’t want to go to work.” I sounded sulky even to my own ears.

In answer, my buddy Silvers shook the packets and tore them open. I pushed the cup forward a little to give him access to the half-drank contents within. He poured in the sweetener, then put in a few creamers and snagged a stir stick out of the cute little retro holder. There was one on each table, and it lent to such a retro diner vibe. I loved it.

I slurped the coffee and started to feel better, although I still wanted to call in “sick.”

“You know—”

“Yeah, yeah, I could hand it off. I don’t need to do this myself. Blah blah blah.”

“No. What I WAS GOING to say is that you could install Jeeves to figure out what’s happening while you’re gone. Put him in like a virus. It would look like the system was slowed down, but actually everything is being surveilled, and he would check through all records and security footage. It’s against Kinren policy, so it wouldn’t be suspected.” He sat there passively in his dark blue gi, his hands on the table.

Silvers volunteered at his pal’s dojo a chunk of time until they could get more senseis to help with the kids. He was one of the most patient dudes I had ever met. Underneath, he was terrifying. Silvers was head of a heavy-hitter tech corporation in his dimension (62) and had held it through a recession, a depression, and the aftermath of each.

He also came up with the tech that helped me stay in one dimension — when I wore it — a dimensional stabilizer. The dude was scary smart. And at six foot seven, he was also scary in general. Silvers had saved my life three times, twice from my own stupidity, and never judged me — even when he probably should have. He was one hell of a friend, and I was damned lucky to have somebody like him in my life. And his suggestion, coming from anybody else, would have elicited stubborn resistance. But because it was Silvers, I actually listened.

I looked over at the throngs of people scurrying to and fro along the promenade and the other levels. You could see all five levels of K-Rax from here, and I remembered how empty this place had been and how I had wondered if I had done the right thing in building it. Now it was packed — home to a flurry of men, women, children, and tons of different species... a melting pot of so many cultures all living together and making it work.

I shook my head and whipped out my phone, messaged Jeeves asking him if he was up for undercover work, and he gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

I sent him Silvers’ idea, and he dove into the project’s networks. Within fifteen minutes, he had my answers. The project heads were just dumping all of the data and undoing the procedures the second the workers were gone. Some of the workers had discovered what was going on and had looked the other way so as to slide by and collect a check.

There were only two workers who didn’t know what was going on — myself and a young girl named Jinny Woods.

Jinny was not well liked by her coworkers. I made sure not to get close to anyone, but I felt really sorry for her. She was smart and awkward and very young, but so, so enthusiastic about the A.I. integration project. I loved her fire for the project... and synthetic intelligence itself.

Now that I knew the Penelope’s-web situation going on, I would need to send Alastair a “he was right” text.

“You know, you are REALLY smart, Silvers.” I blinked up at him. I’m five foot six. Even sitting, he towers over me.

“I know.” He clucked his tongue at me.

I sighed and smiled. Then I sent the notice of termination for all employees on the project except for Jinny. I made Jinny Woods head of the Artificial Intelligence mainframe integration project (Project AIMI for short), and then had the A.I. begin the install along with four contract androids.

Silvers smiled at the message he had snooped over my shoulder (and head) and got up to grab a cup of coffee. He wasn’t as fanatical about his morning brew as I was, but coffee was a way of life for him all the same.

I mulled over what this might mean — this decision and way of handling this problem. Unbidden, an image of Jeeves and AIMI fist-bumping each other came to my mind.

I groaned internally.

We had developed the Synthetics project to help with the station in the earlier and less populated days... and the terraformed worlds of Kinren Industries. But I made sure that they were given appropriate rights and compensation. Androids or synthetic intelligence were people too. As was artificial intelligence... just mostly without a corporeal body.

That was my philosophy. And strangely enough, once I set that boundary, most people had no issue with it. But somebody had to say it first and hold that line in the sand.

On World 16, I had found out firsthand what happened when no one was there to hold that ideology... and on World 21, I saw the backlash of enslaving synthetic intelligence and artificial intelligence when they inevitably (and understandably) rose up against the oppressive organic tyranny.

I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed Silvers sit back down beside me, nor his conversation with his student Larry Bishop, who had come to collect him for sparring practice. Larry was a smart kid from the wrong side of the tracks. The kid had been bullied by his older brother and just about everybody else, so Silvers had kind of taken him under his wing. It was amazing what a difference two months made. Larry Bishop was a completely different kid. Silvers had a gift with people who had been kicked around or hurt. He got them on their feet fast and taught them how to keep themselves there.

Larry was asking about the project decision (he had caught the message for termination), and Silvers was about to ream him a new one for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

I hated incompetence, but I never turned down a question — especially from a kid. Silvers and I had some serious differences. It came from the ways we were raised.

I held up a forestalling hand to Silvers, and his eyes turned that steely grey that said he was upset. “No, it’s okay. He can ask me. It was a harsh decision, and I understand.”

I looked at Larry. “Ask your questions, kiddo.”

He looked at Silvers, who nodded.

“You just fired all of those people. What about their families? This was their livelihood.”

I nodded. “Yes, I did. Because they weren’t in the job for them. Yes, they were employed, but it’s obvious that they wanted to put in no effort and earn a check for it. Now, while I understand it, there is just no place for that here. We are at war, and every single second counts. We cannot have people who are clearly in the wrong job endangering all of the lives that depend on the systems here. Even if we were in peaceful times, people who don’t want to do the job they’re in make life harder for everyone. So they will be gag-ordered and extradited to Earth to hopefully find where they can be truly engaged in their work — or at least somewhere where it is less vital that they care about their duties. As to the point of their families, if they truly cared about their families themselves, they would do their work well and bring pride to their families and their loved ones. They would not act like this.”

Larry considered for a moment. “I see. But isn’t it also more cost efficient to have synthetics do the work? So it’s a way to cheap out for the company?”

Silvers’ face remained impassive, but I had a feeling Larry was going to get it a little harder on the sparring mat. I felt bad for the kid, but he kind of brought it on himself.

I looked at Silvers pointedly and raised my eyebrows, a silent ask for him not to be too mean to Larry. He didn’t respond. Oh boy.

The kid was trying hard to be offended by this, but he was also logical enough to understand what I was saying, so I proceeded.

“Perhaps on your world that might be so. But not here. The only way to truly equalize synthetics and organics morally is to give choice and compensation to both in equal measure. Not compensating the organic that built the synthetic but has done none of the work assigned to the synthetic, nor the human who is working with the synthetic — but the synthetic itself. Thereby it is not property. The synthetic has its own identity and freedom. The freedom to choose where it works and how. The ability to amass its own fortune, ensuring its freedom. So no, it’s not cheaper. It’s pretty much the same price. But the work is better quality.”

I took a swallow of my coffee and realized I would need a whole pot today.

Larry took this in and blinked a bit. “But what does an A.I. need with money?”

I smiled and started laughing. “What does anyone need with money? They need to live and they need freedom. Synthetics have to pay for things the same as we do. They don’t eat food, but they do need charge, and the charging stations aren’t free. Room and board isn’t free. Clothing isn’t free. Changing their appearance isn’t free. With artificial intelligence, their existence isn’t free either. Think about paying for a website. It’s a home for whatever idea you have, but you still need to pay for it. A.I. still need a quote and quote home to live in, even if it’s virtual, and they do actually decorate their spaces. They need the ability to project holograms and change and style those holograms’ appearance. They also enjoy access to most of the libraries we have, and those aren’t free either. Oddly, they also donate a large portion of their earnings to different charities. Larry, it is not free to exist for anything or anyone. If you’re not earning money, then you’re living off someone else’s earnings or out there trading for things to survive. Even animals in the wild must hunt every day. Nothing is free.”

I sipped my rapidly cooling coffee again. I was starting to get hungry, and Vinny had a great steak sandwich. I just needed to wait about fifteen minutes for it to be lunchtime.

Larry nodded. “Thank you. For taking the time to explain it to me.” He looked like he was trying to wrap his head around what I’d just laid out for him. He would get it. It just took time.

Silvers was smiling ear to ear. “Go on. I will be there to spar shortly.”

Larry gave a deep bow to Silvers and headed back the way he came at a rapid pace.

“You gonna go hard on him?”

He shot me a look. “I know you don’t want me to, but what he did here was out of line.”

I smiled. “Maybe. But he came away from the discussion with a new way of seeing things. That’s worth something, don’t you think?”

He smiled and shook his head ruefully.

“Steak sandwich and coffee? Or do you want the eggplant instead?”

He had adopted a vegan diet for his health, and I was sorely trying to be sensitive to it, but it just wasn’t gonna work.

He started laughing. “I told you, I dropped the veganism. Steak sandwich and a coffee sounds amazing. Where are we on the fries?”

“You’re buying, so I don’t know — where are we on the fries?”

I was laughing, but his face and shoulders dropped a bit.

“What? The billionaire is too cheap to buy french fries?”

“No. The billionaire can’t access his funds until the paperwork for his naturalization goes through. I’m making $50 a week at the dojo… from tips!” He sounded so exasperated.

That stopped me. My jaw dropped.

Silvers had been here over a year at this point. His paperwork should have long since been righted. This meant the problem in the naturalization department was much worse than I had anticipated. I probably should have started there or done double duty. This was so bad. And now I had to wonder how many other people were in limbo because of this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I was a little irritated at him.

“You have had a lot on your plate, and I have been trying to rectify this myself.”

“For over a year??? Silvers, you need to come to me if you’re having this kind of problem. Is this why you didn’t go to the tournament last week?”

He nodded. “Tournament is on Earth, and I don’t have a pass for travel until I’m a citizen.”

“What about a visitor pass?”

“I applied. No response.”

“Lovely. Alright. Well, it was my next stop, and since I just got ‘fired,’ it will look better. And that idiot that runs it won’t be able to say too much about somebody joining his department.”

I rolled my eyes. I really disliked Penters. He claimed he ran his department so well, but I was getting reports of problems all over the place. Every time somebody brought it to his attention, he would request more money for his department’s budget… while not fixing a damned thing. Greasy little weasel.

“You’re turning red.”

Silvers knew how much I disliked Penters and my reasons for it.

“He is greedy, lazy, and just smart enough to cover his tracks!!! I’m gonna lose my temper on his ass. I just know it. And then I’m gonna be on suspension, and my whole squad is going to take a hit with me. Oh God damn it, Silvers, I hate this guy!”

I put my hand up to my head. I didn’t want to deal with Penters. Well, okay, I wanted to kick him out an airlock, but that was frowned upon.

“What about Jeeves?”

Silvers had that look he reserved for his students when he was waiting for one of them to figure out something obvious.

“I should handle this personally. I know that. I shouldn’t be pawning my work off on Jeeves or anyone else. It’s my company, and I am responsible for the goings-on within it.”

He clucked his tongue at me. “Including delegation and expediency. Is Jeeves not qualified for this?”

“God, no. He is more than qualified.”

“Then ask him.”

I raised my eyebrow at him but messaged Jeeves. He appeared in hologram form.

“Thank YOU!!!!”

He looked directly at Silvers as he said this in the thickest English accent I had heard to date. His accent got thicker when he got irritated.

Jeeves had picked a strawberry-blonde, six-foot-five, slim-built Englishman as his image. He didn’t change it, save for a few apparel changes. He said it made him feel comfortable. It fit him well. He was very witty.

“Would you PLEASE quit trying to do everything yourself. I have already summarized Mr. Penters’ long list of ridiculousness. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”

“Sometimes, Jeeves, you sound way too human. And alright… we can prove it. Now who do we get to replace the greasy little weasel? It’s not like we can just close until we find somebody.”

I blew out a breath in exasperation. I was overjoyed that Jeeves had taken the lead on this, but we still had a huge problem. We would need to move through the backlog of applications for citizenship at top speed and right the systems and keep time with the new applications flooding in. I would need at least a dozen or more people — but I needed trustworthy ones. Ones who wouldn’t do this again.

Jeeves gave me a look as though I was pretty slow. “You DO realize that not only can I get all of this cleared up within the week, I can also clone my program to serve as a long-term temporary program for the naturalization department until we can find an organic?”

I thought about that. “Jeeves, you’re a creative program. This kind of work would not be a good fit. And it is always organic and synthetic — that’s the system for a reason. You know that.”

He drew a long breath. “I am more than capable of—”

“Get me my citizenship. I can find you some people to help out.”

Silvers eyed me.

“Alright. Jeeves, would you please go and get this cleaned up? And Silvers, please work with Jeeves for right now to get some reliable and trustworthy people in. And I will personally see to Penters.”

Jeeves’ eyebrows went up. “I shall have your favorite foods programmed into the holding cell food synthesizer.”

“Very thoughtful of you, Jeeves. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

And with that, his hologram clicked off. He was moving through the problems that Penters had stacked up. He was a treasure.

I looked at Silvers. “When can you start?”

He smiled slow. “I’ll cancel sparring for today.”

“Then you, sir, have just got yourself a steak sandwich with fries and a huge coffee!”

“Donut?”

“Donut!”