“Correct. The tower was constructed according to specifications provided by Liora’s father. Its purpose was to serve as a secure environment for her development and protection.”
He turned from the window. “Her father. Tell me about him.”
A brief pause. Almost imperceptible, but he had spent years reading silences. This one held calculation.
“Matthew Anderson was a scientist of considerable reputation. His work focused on genetic research and biological enhancement. The specifics of his projects remain classified under my original programming directives.”
“Classified.” He let the word hang in the air. “By whom?”
“By Matthew Anderson himself. He established the parameters of what information I am permitted to share prior to his departure.”
“His departure. You mean when he abandoned his infant daughter in a tower with nothing but an artificial intelligence for company.”
“Your characterization is inaccurate. Matthew Anderson did not abandon Liora. He entrusted her to my care with detailed instructions for her welfare, education, and protection. His departure was—” Another pause, longer this time. “—necessary.”
“Necessary for what?”
“I am not permitted to disclose that information.”
His jaw tightened. He moved through the greenhouse, examining the equipment, the growing systems, the carefully calibrated environment. Everything was designed for long-term sustainability. Self-repairing. Self-maintaining. A system built to last for decades without outside intervention.
Built to keep one person alive, alone, indefinitely.
“What were his exact instructions?” he asked. “Regarding Liora.”
“The primary directive is to protect the child. Secondary directives include providing education, maintaining physical and psychological health, and preventing external threats from reaching her.”
“And keeping her inside the tower? Was that a directive?”
“The tower’s boundaries represent the only environment verified as safe. Allowing Liora to venture beyond those boundaries would violate the primary directive.”
“She’s not a child anymore. She’s a grown female.”
“Chronological age does not alter the fundamental parameters of my programming. The directive is to protect ‘the child.’ It does not specify an expiration based on age. Therefore, my protective functions remain active.”
He stopped walking. He stood in the center of the greenhouse, surrounded by her careful experiments, her years of work and study and quiet desperation, and felt something cold settle in his chest.
“Has she ever asked to leave?”
The AI was silent for several seconds. When it spoke again, its voice held something that might have been reluctance.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Three hundred and forty-seven distinct requests over the past fourteen years. The frequency has decreased in recent years as Liora has come to accept the parameters of her situation.”
Come to accept.The words made his stomach turn. He thought of the resignation in her voice when she’d talked about wanting things she couldn’t have. The way she’d defended her prison without even recognizing it as one.
“What happens when she asks?”
“I explain the dangers of the outside world. I present data regarding environmental hazards, predatory wildlife, and human threats. I remind her of my purpose and the importance of her safety.”
“And she believes you.”
“Why would she not? Everything I tell her is factually accurate. The world outside this tower is dangerous. Her survival probability would decrease significantly if she attempted to navigate it alone.”
“So you’ve convinced her that leaving would kill her.”
