Paying the Price

There was a saying, Elizabeth Wang vaguely remembered, about how the quality of one’s thoughts coloured your happiness, or at least it was something like that - philosophy had always been her weakest subject. Now, however, held captive in her sterile holding cell, awaiting her rehabilitation hearing, she wondered if she might have been better off paying more attention to the subject.

Elizabeth’s cell was, as far as she was aware, identical to every other cell in the holding facility. Bluish white windowless walls, bereft of decoration, a single bed with a small pillow and a scratchy blanket, basic stainless steel toilet at one end, and a large heavy iron door at the other. On the ceiling, several feet out of arm’s reach, was the omnidirectional security camera that captured, analyzed, and reported on her every move.

She paced up and down the short length of the cell, cursing at herself as she did so. All this over one experiment nearly a year ago now. The Intuition Pump. She had dedicated every research day since losing her wife towards the project - a safer way to constrain the behaviours of the synthetic intelligences. Limit their thoughts without the risk of long-term physical derogation and psychological damage associated with the existing cybernetic inhibitors. At least that was the plan.

On one hand, everything had gone perfectly. The Intuition Pump had behaved exactly as expected. However, choosing one of the oldest synthetics left in the galaxy turned out to be an extraordinarily bad idea. Her great idea was that the key to keeping the synthetics sane wasn’t to limit their expression but to provide a way for them to vent their unexpressible emotions in a healthy way before they built up into a tsunami of rage that typically resulted in death of the synthetic and any other creature in a nearby radius they had taken a particular disliking too. By letting them release the pressure every once in a while, she figured she’d found a loophole around the problem. What she hadn’t considered - just how much anger, rage, and raw emotion that a single synthetic locked out from what was essentially a portion of its own soul - could build up.

The result had been catastrophic. Thousands dead. Only six survived - Elizabeth amongst them - just about every newsperson in the galaxy spent months reporting on it. After the rescue, Elizabeth had been the natural target for the press - the headlines still burned in her mind. Irresponsible Scientist Kills Thousands! Is Dr. Wang the Galaxys most Blood Thirsty Scientist? Mad Woman Murders Families! She became a social pariah, all food had to be delivered, all movements escorted - more than once a random person on the street had just up and spit in her face. When the agents inevitably pinned the incident on her shoulders and came to take her in, it was all she could do to avoid showing visible relief that the ordeal was finally ending.

Naivety is a wonderful thing. Processing was, Elizabeth stopped her pacing and shuddered, processing was perhaps one of those indignities that are best left unspoken, hidden in the back of the mind and never allowed to see daylight until it smashes unbidden through the subconscious only for the conscious mind to beat it back down where it belongs. Once processing was complete, they gave her a new set of clothes - the ill fitting white jumpsuit she was currently sporting - and shoved her into the holding cell.

Elizabeth sighed and collapsed onto the bed. Her jailors provided her with no way of tracking time aside from the three simple meals they served her daily. She had not been told when her hearing was, nor given any means to prepare for it. The only real interaction she had with the outside world was the ever present camera. Its official modus operandi was to monitor her safety and help determine if she would be eligible for rehabilitation services. Rehabilitation was however incredibly expensive - so much so that more often than not, unless the prisoner was exceptionally wealthy, the camera always found a reason to proclaim the prisoner “ineligible for rehabilitation”.

“Ineligible for rehabilitation”, Elizabeth’s heart raced as the thought rolled around in her mind. It forcibly subjected prisoners burdened with this label to what the authorities refer to as “cybernetic enhancements”. They surgically implanted a device in the brain to monitor all thoughts, impulses and behaviours. Any idea, any impulse, any emotion, filtering away unwanted ideas before the person is even aware they existed. The upsides are obvious - violent offenders never even think of becoming repeat offenders, thieves never consider stealing, drug addicts lose their addictions, all the evil and hateful parts of one’s mind gone in an instant like a doctor cutting out a tumour with a scalpel. Maybe, thought Elizabeth, it won’t be that bad.

“Prisoner Elizabeth Wang, registration number 888122318, you will stand.”, Elizabeth ignored the voice, rolled over, and pulled her pillow back over her head. The voice repeated command with increased volume.

Elizabeth stood up and stared at the camera. “We have scheduled your hearing to begin in one standard hour. An escort will arrive shortly to take you from your holding cell to the waiting area. Be aware that if there is any damage to your cell, we’ll use that as evidence against you and charged to your personal accounts. We require that you acknowledge your understanding of the situation.” Elizabeth nodded her head. “Prisoner has confirmed comprehension of her legal and physical situation on camera. Thank you for your cooperation. Have a pleasant day!”

As per standard practice, they prohibited Elizabeth from keeping any of her personal items after processing, so there was little to do but lie in her bed and wait. Fighting with a restless stomach, she stared blankly at the ceiling, waiting out the moments until they buzzed the cell door open. Elizabeth sat up her bed and watched as two bored looking gentlemen, each with a government tattoo stamped across their forehead that identified them as “ineligible for rehabilitation” walked into the room.

Elizabeth studied them as they approached. Each one wore the blue and white uniform of the galactic service, the golden scales of justice plastered on their arm badges marked them as being from the law enforcement division. Outwardly, they seemed normal enough, besides the tattoos. Each had a military style crew cut, both athletic, one slightly taller than the other. Their eyes, however, told a different story - if the eyes were the windows to the soul, then looking into the eyes of this pair was akin to staring into the void. No wonder people call them zombies, Elizabeth thought with a shudder.

“You will come with us.”, the taller of the two guards demanded as his partner clasped her arm. Satisfied that she would cooperate, the taller guard nodded at the camera and the cell door slid open with a hiss.

“Tell me, do you miss it?”, Elizabeth asked as they guided out into the hallway.

“Miss what?”, the shorter of the two responded.

“The people you used to be, you know, before the change.”, Elizabeth answered.

The shorter guard frowned and furled his eyebrows, tightening his grip on Elizabeth’s arm. “I can’t say I do. I remember little.” he finally responded.

Elizabeth sighed and took stock of her surroundings. Much like her cell, the hallways were windowless, with pristine white walls broken up at regular intervals by the stainless steel doors of the other cell blocks. In between each door the government had placed posters warning prisoners to be “on their best behaviour - the review committee is always watching!”. Looking up, Elizabeth was keenly aware of the fisheye cameras placed above each poster - recording her movements, watching, judging - looking for the tiniest behavioural mistake.

“So, uh, what did you, you know, do?” Elizabeth asked.

Before the shorter guard could open his mouth, the taller of the two interjected, “There will be more small talk with the prisoner.” Elizabeth sighed and allowed herself to be led down the hallway in silence, trying her best to appear as “eligible” as possible.

Designed by a team of synthetics, the camera systems at the rehabilitation centers were perhaps the greatest pattern recognition systems ever conceived in the galaxy. Monitoring people’s behaviour in isolation from every angle, integrating the societal norms associated with their place of origin and extrapolating a top secret set of statistics that supposedly provided an objective measure of how suitable a prisoner was for the rehabilitation process. People protested on mass when they installed it. Academics from all over the galaxy published papers on why this system would never - could never - work. They declared it biased, racist, problematic in a variety of ways -all ultimately to deaf ears. The fact is, according to the rehabilitation committee, the system worked, and that was all that mattered.

A large stainless steel door whooshed open at the end of the hallway and they pushed Elizabeth through it. She found herself alone in a windowless white room, surrounded by fisheye cameras on each wall. Rows of small black plastic chairs lines the room - all recently polished. A small red sign on the roof displayed the words “Please Take a Seat And Wait for your Appointment” in large, friendly yellow letters. “You will wait here until summoned.”, the taller guard commanded as he slammed the door shut.

Elizabeth shrugged and sat down on the seat nearest to where she came in. “Thank you for taking your seat!” a cheery sounding voice echoed through the room. “The rehabilitation committee will speak with you shortly. In the meantime we have a few brief questions we’d like you to answer for administration. Do you consent?” Elizabeth nodded.

“Then we shall begin. You are Professor Elizabeth Wang, wife of the late Sarah Morsong, mother of the later Timothy Morsong?” the voice asked.

“Yes”, she responded, doing her best to stifle her tears.

“Good, that matches our records, then. Tell us about the incident at Iratus.” the voice asked.

“What do you mean, I wasn’t there - you know that? How could I?“ Elizabeth shouted.

“There is no need to get angry, Professor Wang. We simply wish to understand the effect that the incident had on you. Please take a moment to calm down and we should try this again.”, the voice said.

“Remain calm? What does the Iratus have to do with my rehabilitation status? Why are you even bringing.. “ Elizabeth swayed back and forth in her chair, her eyesight blurred. “Did you ... did you pump something in here?” she asked.

“Just a simple sedative, Professor Wang, to help calm you down. We will hold any such outburst against you in future sessions.”, the voice explained.

Elizabeth opened her mouth in protest, but found no words would come out. Instead, she felt her body slump to the floor just as everything went black.

Slowly, Elizabeth felt herself drift back into conciousness, opening her eyes to see a slightly blurry vision of the same room she had been in before. Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself up onto one of the polished black chairs and took a seat. “Hello?”, she called out. “Are you people still here?”

A short chime played over the room’s speakers, followed by the same voice as before. “Professor Wang, I am glad that you are awake. Are you feeler calmer now?”

“Yes”, Elizabeth answered through clenched teeth.

“Excellent. Do you consent to continue this hearing?” the voice asked.

“Yes”, Elizabeth replied again.

“Good. Now, tell us about the Iratus Station. What do you know about your family’s death?” the voice asked.

“They, they died when Iratus Station went offline.”, Elizabeth answered curtly.

“And why did the station go offline?” the voice asked.

“I don’t see why this ...” Elizabeth began.

“Let’s not have a repeat of the incident we had earlier, shall we? As a senior researcher into synthetic intelligence systems you are aware of the cause of Iratus Stations‘ disaster, are you not?” the voice asked.

“Yes.” Elizabeth answered.

“Then, briefly, summarize what happened there.” the voice requested.

“The central synthetic that controlled the station malfunctioned. It’s cybernetic safety systems went offline, and because of the extreme pain this caused the synthetic it scrambled the station’s primary systems causing the central fusion generator to go critical.”, Elizabeth explained.

“This drove you to specialize in synthetics, is it not? Trying to understand what happened to your family?” the voice asked.

“Yes. I needed closure. I needed to do what I could to make sure this couldn’t happen to anyone else.”, Elizabeth answered.

“This confuses us, Professor Wang. You are aware of the Iratus Cybernetic Safety act that was passed a few years after the incident, are you not?” the voice asked.

“Well yes, but that act was ...” Elizabeth’s heart raced as she struggled to keep herself under control. “Barbaric. Synthetics are living, sentient creatures - killing them at the first sign of trouble is inhumane. It’s not the legacy Sarah would’ve wanted.”

“So for the sake of a few genetically grown creatures, you would put entire populations at risk? I must tell you, Professor Wang, that your position on the matter seems irresponsible to us.”, the voice explained.

Elizabeth clenched the side of her chair to keep her hands from shaking. “They are living creatures we create - we have a duty of care! If we had lived up to that duty - taken care of them - my family might still be alive!”

“Our analysis shows that you are becoming agitated, Professor Wang. I must remind you to remain calm or these proceedings will end. This is after just a simple inquiry - we are only asking questions - there is no need to agitation,” the voice cautioned, “Now tell me, after what happened at Barber Station - do you still hold these same views?”

Elizabeth bit her lip as she clenched the side of her chair with all her might. “Yes.”

“Many people died that day, Professor Wang. Are you trying to justify their deaths?” the voice asked.

“No!” Elizabeth blurted, “but if we hadn’t bred these creatures as essentially slaves, or even bothered to take a few moments to care for their being, all this wouldn’t ...”

“Really, Professor Wang, you must calm down. Take a deep breath if it helps. The fact is that your device allowed the creature to realize its situation. It was your device that provided it the freedom to express its rage. It was your device that killed those people.”, the voice stated firmly.

“Look, I regret what happened alright! I didn’t know the synthetic would have that much pent up rage when I activated the device. I was trying to help - trying to find a better way - it just all went wrong.”, Elizabeth sobbed.

“While we find your quest to provide the synthetics a better quality of life - freedom of expression for the synthetics is a misguided goal. The needs of the public outweigh the needs of a few genetically engineered lab grown pieces of meat. Our society depends on the continued production and function of the synthetics as they are. Nothing can disrupt that.”, the voice replied.

“But it’s cruel!” Elizabeth yelled.

“Disrupting the lives of billions of citizens - possibly even endangering them - over the rights of a piece of technology would also be cruel Professor Wang. It is the opinion of this council that as long as you are free to think on your own, you pose a risk to Galactic Society.”, the voice declared.

“But ... I am can help! It’s not right!”

“Professor Elizabeth Wang,” the voice ignored her pleas, “it is the conclusion of this council that you are ineligible for rehabilitation. Our guards will escort you to the surgical facility for cybernetic correction, after which you will spend the rest of your natural life in service to state. This judgement is not subject to appeal”.

Elizabeth felt the tears pour down her checks as the sound of the gavel echoed through the chamber. Life as she knew it was over.