“Being annoying can be just as distracting as anything else. You’ll do great.” She got up and went to the door. He followed and they stepped outside.
The sergeants and the Hummer were gone. The two Rangers keeping Dixon under house arrest still stood at their station, and one of them looked over at the two agents.
Brodie patted his pockets, then walked down the stairs and over to the Rangers. “Either of you guys have a cigarette?”
Both Rangers shook their heads and one of them said, “Sorry, sir. We don’t smoke.”
“What’s become of my Army?” He eyed their M4s, which were fitted with the EMP barrels. “How does that work if you need to fire live ammo? You have mags to swap?”
One of the guys nodded and gestured to a mag on his belt. “But the EMP barrel takes a minute to detach, and if you fire a live round into it, you’d break it at best, maybe destroy your rifle, maybe injure yourself. But we’ve got our sidearms too.”
“Right. Unique gig out here, I’ll say that.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Taylor get up and go back inside. “Well, good chat, fellas. Remember to hydrate.”
He walked back into the house as Taylor was plugging the thumbdrive into the TV. Then she turned it on with the remote and in the menu navigated to a video tab. On the screen was a single video file calledUntitled.
They both sat on the couch and Taylor selected the file.
The video began to play. It was a shaky, handheld shot of Roger Ames as he walked through the Vault. It looked like it was being filmed on either a smartphone or a small camcorder that he was able to point at himself as he walked. His brown hair was disheveled and he wore a button-down shirt and jeans. His intense brown eyes stared into the lens as he talked.
“This is Major Roger Ames, chief officer of the U.S. Army DEVCOM team at Camp Hayden. It is two-elevenA.M.on April third, and I have come down here alone, against camp protocol. I have done so because my investigation requires the utmost secrecy. I suspect that one of the D-17s, Unit 20, unaffectionately called Bucky by the Ranger platoon, is behaving strangely. So strangely that I suspect something has happened that should not be possible—that this bot is exhibiting signs of intelligence and self-awareness beyond its programming. It sounds crazy to say, but here we are. If I’m wrong and this video makes me look like an idiot, I’ll probably delete it. If you’re watching this right now, it probably means I’m right.” He swung the camera around to face the row of D-17 storage bays lining one of the walls. He walked up to one of them, inserted an activation key he was holding, and turned it. A low electronic beep emitted from Bucky. Ames pointed his camera up at the bot and said, “Number 20, can you hear my voice?”
“Yes,” said Bucky in its flat, affectless voice. It tilted its head down to fix its sensors on Ames.
Even on video, this thing was terrifying, and Brodie couldn’t imagine being alone in the Vault with it, not to mention fifty-nine of its buddies.
“We are going to do something a little different today, Number 20. It’s just you and me. I have some questions for you. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
Ames walked to a far wall, where a tripod was set up. He affixed his video recorder to it, so that it was facing the row of bays where Bucky was clamped in. Then Ames walked back into the shot and stood in front of Bucky.
“We are going to talk like this.”
“Okay.”
“Who am I?”
“You are Major Roger Ames of the United States Army Combat Capabilities Development Command.”
“Correct.”
Ames ran his hand through his hair as he paced and scratched his scalp. He gave the impression of a guy who had been going without sleep but was running on something strong to keep him juiced—a couple of pots of coffee, or a few bumps of cocaine, or maybe just the power of his own mania. It sure as hell wasn’t psychedelic mushrooms.
“Okay,” said Ames. “What is your mission?”
“My mission is to engage a platoon of United States Army Rangers in ground combat training exercises to prepare them for the future of warfare.”
“That’s a mouthful, isn’t it?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What does that mean? The future of warfare?” Ames’s questions were a bit theatrical, like a trial lawyer making a case.
“The future of warfare is warfare that increasingly relies on automated or semi-automated weapons systems.”
“Give me an example of that.”
“An example of that is a human soldier engaging in combat with a lethal autonomous weapon.”
