Which was ninety-five percent true. Only the ‘woman’ and ‘apartment’ bits were hedging the truth.
Yeah.
She had lived in Newfoundland with her creator. Leviathan had attacked, had drawn the island beneath the waves. Back then, she hadn’t been a hero. She was an administrative tool and master AI, with the sole purpose of facilitating Andrew Richter’s other work and acting as a test run for his attempts to emulate a human consciousness.
So she was one of the first Richterbots, then?
She’d had no armored units to control and no options available to her beyond a last-minute transfer of every iota of her data, the house program and a half-dozen other small programs to a backup server in Vancouver.
Look on the bright side… at least you didn’t need a moving van.
From her vantage point in Vancouver, she had watched as the island crumbled and Andrew Richter died.
The tenses surrounding Richter were a bit confusing, seemed to indicate he was still doing work, but as it became clear to me that he lived on Newfoundland, this outcome started to seem more and more likely.
As authorities had dredged the waters for corpses, they uncovered his body and matched it to dental records. The man who had created her, the only man who could alter her. She’d been frozen in her development, in large part.
So wait, can she or can she not alter her own programming, besides the restricted parts like the rules we went over earlier?
She couldn’t seek out improvements or get adjustments to any rules that hampered her too greatly, or that had unforeseen complications. She couldn’t change.
I see. The only part that potentially could change would be her data and personality, and the latter is limited by the rules.
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