Black Friday, at last.
Since the recent attempt to hack Kilokahn had been a failure, and Malcolm had no reason to use him for the time being, he had spent the past few days in complete relax, enjoying long sessions of his favorite video games and creating art at his computer just for the pleasure of it. Every once in a while, he checked his email, hoping to have news from his dad.
Now, in the early afternoon, Malcolm was directed to the mall and to his prize. As usual, when a favorable outcome was approaching, he could not avoid thinking of ways it could go wrong. What if the Visette Shell was incompatible with his computer, or his operating system, or his video drivers? What if he dropped it on the way home and it could not be replaced? Well, in the worst case, he would still be able to do everything he could do before, without losing anything. One less worry.
The mall was crowded, and it looked like everyone was on a shopping spree. Close to the main entrance, the Intel store was filled with fanboys buying new computers or mobile devices, in spite of the high prices. Further on, people were getting in and out of every store. Two policemen were standing in front of a household goods store named Interior Space, talking with the owner. He repeatedly gestured toward the front window, and they prevented everyone from entering.
Malcolm slowed down, to see what it was all about, and soon he recognized the store owner as George Collins, Elizabeth's father. Elizabeth herself was nowhere in sight, and there were three bullet holes in the front window of his store.
"Holy shit..." Malcolm whispered to himself. Evidently, George Collins was still receiving threats.
The computer store was full of people too, browsing for hardware or software. While screens around the store advertised the latest releases, children were begging parents to buy them new video games, and adult nerds argued with their friends whether the Konix Dominator or the SGI Hypercube was the best console.
Malcolm approached the cashier's desk. "Excuse me!" he said to the cashier, who had his back turned to pick up a game for a customer.
"Can I help you?" asked the cashier.
"Yes" said Malcolm, showing his ViCPhone XL. "Three weeks ago I bought this phone..."
"And now you got a virus" the cashier interrupted him.
"No, Raymond. The phone is fine" replied Malcolm. "I won the Virtuality contest. I'm here to claim the head-mounted display that is rightfully mine."
The cashier gave Malcolm a surprised look. "Okay" he said. "I need the receipt, the contest card, the code you received and your ID."
The cashier, at his computer, connected to the Virtuality website, where he verified that Malcolm was who he claimed to be. He then took the box containing the HMD from below his desk, put it into a plastic bag and gave it to Malcolm.
Malcolm was only few steps outside the store when he heard a distant high-pitched scream, followed by the murmur of many people talking. There was a bald man running with a little girl in his arms, pressing a hand on her mouth, while she still tried to scream and unsuccessfully struggled to break free. Malcolm recognized the girl: Elizabeth.
As Malcolm looked around, he clenched his fists, his heartbeat accelerated and his breath rate increased. Yet, nobody was doing anything, as though what was happening was just a very realistic movie. Bystander effect at work. Malcolm had read how to counteract it, so he ran toward the first person he saw, pointed his finger at him and shouted: "You! Stop the kidnapper!"
No avail. Nothing happened, except for that person backing away a few steps.
Instantly deciding that all the people around him were morons, Malcolm started chasing the kidnapper himself. The man was fast, even while carrying the weight of a little girl. Malcolm was losing ground.
In the parking lot outside the mall, Malcolm saw him again in the distance, struggling to open the door of his car while holding Elizabeth.
Still running, Malcolm took his phone out of his pocket and started recording a video of the kidnapper's actions. The man's car started and left when Malcolm was just few steps from it, but he had taken a very clear snapshot of the license plate. At home, he would show it to Kilokahn and tell him how to solve the problem.
Malcolm stopped next to a car to catch his breath. Few seconds later, he heard an angry man's voice behind him. "You again!"
He turned around. In front of him was George Collins, beet red in the face and out of breath.
"Why..." started George Collins. "Why do I always find you around when my daughter's in trouble?"
Malcolm's thoughts were racing. He had thought about seeing Elizabeth again, then he had dismissed the occurrence as impossible, and yet it had happened, although very differently from what he had imagined. Was it just a coincidence, or was there something more?
"You staged all of this!" he finally exclaimed, pointing his finger at George Collins. "You damaged your own window! All you're doing right now is an act! You convinced your friend with the car, and even Elizabeth, to take part to this farce, only to satisfy your desire to hurt me!"
George Collins kept his eyes fixed on Malcolm. "Are you out of your mind, or just really stupid?" he then said.
"Oh, am I?" said Malcolm, now angry, but with a hint of smugness. "Let's admit someone threatened your family some time in the past. Then you saw your daughter hugging me. I was not hurting her, mind you. She was hugging me. That's when you put two and two together, and got five. You decided to blame me for whatever had happened to you, in spite of what she herself said. Then you threatened me. 'If you ever come close to my daughter again, I'm gonna kick your ass so hard you're gonna puke my shoe.' That's what you said. Today you saw me walk past your store, so you set up this charade, just to provoke a reaction from me, and have an excuse to hurt me!"
George Collins shook his head. "So you really are stupid. Do you think I would set up a fake kidnapping multiple times a day, every day, just hoping that you happened, by chance, to walk by? God, what a shithead."
When it was put that way, yes, that was implausible. Besides, Elizabeth's parents had a store at the mall: finding her there was more probable than finding a random customer. There was one of Malcolm's flaws: his innate distrust of other people sometimes led him to think up contrived ways they were supposedly out to harm him, without stopping for a second to think how improbable it was.
But if that was unlikely, then it was very likely that Elizabeth had been kidnapped for real! Malcolm gasped at the realization.
"Here's the kidnapper's license plate" Malcolm finally said. He took out his phone and showed the video to George Collins. "In the entire mall, I was the only one chasing him. That should mean something. If Elizabeth is actually in danger, then write the number down and call the police."
George Collins wrote it in his own smartphone and left without saying a word.
Back home, Malcolm rushed into his room, placed the box of the HMD on his bed and switched his computer on. When the familiar screen of Workbench 5.3 came up, he activated the Kilokahn executable, connected his phone to the computer and opened the video of the kidnapper's car.
"Kilokahn, this is a matter of life or death!" Malcolm yelled to the AI. "I need to control the car with this license plate, just like that other time! And I need video and audio feedback!"
"I see you are distressed" said Kilokahn. "Now sit down calmly and think things over."
"Damn right I am distressed!" Malcolm was still yelling. "A man has kidnapped a little girl at the mall, and we must stop him!"
Kilokahn was imperturbable. "I see. What kind of optimization would result from this course of action?"
"Kilokahn", Malcolm said, "are we still fighting a war against stupidity?"
"Yes, why?"
"The kidnapper is affiliated with drug dealers. Drugs impair the ability to think logically. Drug dealers have an interest in making people stupid, because the more stupid people there are, the more money they make. This is why we must get rid of him. Instead, consider the little girl who was kidnapped. Eight years old, active, intelligent, curious. She gets straight As in Math. When she grows up, she might become a scientist. A transhumanist!"
And she is one of the few non-relatives who said they like me. This is what Malcolm wanted to add, but kept silent, to prevent Kilokahn from disregarding his arguments as an appeal to emotion.
"Eight years old" repeated Kilokahn. "She still has time to change. She might become a religious fundamentalist. An antivaxxer. A vegan."
"You don't know that!"
"Neither do you."
"Which is precisely why we must give her a chance!"
"Would you be willing to risk that she might not turn out like you want her to?"
"Yes!"
Kilokahn and Malcolm remained silent for a couple of seconds.
"Listen, Kilokahn" Malcolm then added, "if she turns out bad, we will deal with her in due time, like we did with Steve Jobs. But if we don't save her, there is a chance that the realm of the flesh might not become as optimized as it could be. It would be your fault, and yours only. A direct violation of your programming."
"I understand" finally said Kilokahn. "Load one of your designs. Let's save the little meat-thing."
"From now on, you are to refer to her as Elizabeth!" roared Malcolm.
"Very well. Let's save... Elizabeth."
Kilokahn animated the Megavirus monster, which was launched into the digital domain. There, it attached itself to a circuit tower with its claws and the single horn on its head, and clusters of data in the shape of moving glowing dots started flowing through its body.
Malcolm picked up his joypad, and the Workbench screen on his primary monitor was replaced by the internal first-person view of a car driving along a winding street, among hills and slopes. He recognized the landscape: it was Calaveras Road, to the east of North Valley. He had read about the natural park nearby.
Malcolm pressed the left analog trigger on his joypad, and and the car came to a sudden stop. Pressing Start shut off the engine.
At the wheel, the kidnapper cussed and tried to restart it, to no avail. Pushing the blue button locked all doors at the same time, while the green button activated the internal speakers.
Malcolm leaned toward his laptop's microphone. "I know what you did." he said.
"Shit..." the criminal hissed. "Who's there?" he shouted immediately after.
"That's none of your concern." said Malcolm. "And since your car is under my control, I will be dictating the conditions from now on."
The criminal looked around, searching in vain for a hidden camera. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but if you fuck with me, I'm gonna kill the little cunt!" he yelled.
Malcolm was feeling the urge to yell all his hate back at the criminal, but he resisted. He needed to sound cold and merciless; yelling would be a sign of weakness. "Really." he said instead, with a completely indifferent tone. "As far as her parents know, she might already be dead. All that matters now is what happens to you. I can see everything you do, and if you do as much as look at her the wrong way, I will drive this car off a cliff."
To prove that he was telling the truth, Malcolm restarted the car, and with a quick squeeze of the right trigger, he made it jolt forward.
The man, whose breath was accelerating, wiped his forehead. "Who's doing this?" he yelled.
Malcolm continued his taunt. "Do you think it's worth it? Do you think it's worth to turn into chunky salsa because you could not stop yourself from committing a crime? And don't try to convince yourself that I'm bluffing, because I'm not."
The engine turned on again. The car accelerated forward, then, a sudden U-turn followed by a drift and a spin caused the kidnapper to hit his head on the wheel.
"Now do as I say, or I will make your spleen dislodge your brain."
Malcolm paused a moment so that the words would sink. Now the man was panting.
"Get out of the car, slowly, then get in front of it and stay there." said Malcolm.
The door at the driver's side unlocked.
"Remember that if you try any trick, you die. If you obey me, you don't. Elizabeth, stay calm, you're about to be saved."
The kidnapper complied and the car's windows rolled down. Malcolm's voice poured out of them: "Now walk. Slowly. I will escort you to the closest police station."
Trembling with fear, the criminal complied. After few meters, the horn gave a sudden honk that startled him. He looked back, only to see the car make a sudden acceleration and knock him down.
In the seconds that followed, the car drove back and forth over the criminal's feet and legs, crushing his bones. And then, it made one final pass... over the kidnapper's crotch. The man screamed in pain.
"Don't be scared, Elizabeth, it's over." said Malcolm's voice, now attempting to sound warm and reassuring. "You are safe now. Do you remember who I am? Do you recognize my voice?"
"Malcolm?" asked Elizabeth, confused.
"Yes. I did not want to leave you in the clutches of that monster. After all, you said I'm your friend."
"Did you kill him?" asked Elizabeth.
"No, but I wanted to ensure your safety, so I made sure he'll never walk again, and he'll never have any children." answered Malcolm. "Now I have to get you home, so you'll have to give me directions. Switch to the driver's seat and grab the wheel. I will still drive the car remotely, but it will not attract so much attention."
The car windows rolled up again and the car drove back into town. Elizabeth had slumped down in the driver's seat, falling silent.
After a while, she sat up again and asked: "How do you do this? Driving the car, talking through the speakers...?"
"I have a computer program that lets me do this." Malcolm replied. Elizabeth accepted the explanation.
"There's one more important thing I need to tell you." said Malcolm's voice.
"What?"
"Do not tell anyone I saved you."
"Not even my parents?"
"Nobody."
"Why?"
Malcolm sighed.
"The program I'm using is a top secret military project" he said. "If you mentioned me to anyone, I would be probably arrested for stealing military secrets. Or worse, I might be accused to be an accomplice of your kidnapper!"
"But you're not! You're good, I know!" insisted Elizabeth.
"You know that" replied Malcolm, "and you have a good heart, but there is no plausible way I might have saved you without this program. Even if you praised me sky-high, they would never believe you, and they would never believe me."
"What am I supposed to say, then?" Elizabeth asked.
"Say the kidnapper needed to take a piss, and when he got out of the car, you took the wheel and drove home by yourself. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Then say it. Right now."
"The kidnapper wanted... he wanted to take a piss. When he got out of the car, I took the wheel and drove home by myself."
"Good. Say it again."
"The kidnapper needed to take a piss. He got out of the car, so I took the wheel and drove home by myself."
"Again, until I get you home."
Finally, the car reached the Collins residence and parked near the sidewalk.
"Well, here we are" said Malcolm.
"Will I ever see you again?" Elizabeth asked.
"Of course. The mall is not going anywhere" replied Malcolm. "Now go, Mom and Dad are waiting for you."
Elizabeth opened the door and got out of the car. "Bye..." she said, waving her hand to the empty car.
At his computer, Malcolm blinked hard a few times, rubbed his eyes and sighed, staring at the immobile scene on the screen.
Few seconds later, he squeezed his eyes shut and quickly turned his back to the monitor, feeling a storm of emotions inside.