She shook her head at the spectacle. The only positive thing that could be said is that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. The only way they could get worse was if war broke out.
Which was, of course, unthinkable.
Then she thought of Allison again. War, after all, was that, on a much greater scale.
At least next week came quickly enough. Lisa donned her best Qi Pao, the one her grandmother had given her, and combed her black hair out long and straight in the old way, the way she’d learned long ago made a very good first impression on children. She used just enough makeup to look pretty, and to mask the sleepless night she’d endured the night before. Then she took a deep breath, and let it out slowly: here we go again.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, the Powers That Be decided that bots could be used for teaching, thereby freeing human beings for higher and nobler purposes. Not any old bots, of course, but specially equipped and programmed bots, bots designed by the elite of the educational establishment, bots which would contain in their neural networks every rational teaching technique and skill ever discovered. Bots that were the result of years of meetings, conferences, symposiums, discussions, debates, editorials—even before the first one emerged from its assembly tank they had become the most complex, and expensive, bots in history. Or most expensive nonbots, as someone put it. However described, they were a glorious failure. Within a few years of their introduction, they were gone: returned, junked, cold-stored, deliberately or “accidentally” damaged beyond repair.
Why? Nobody had ever really answered that question, though that same establishment produced CDs full of theses in the attempt. Indeed, with the development of the cyberlink, it wasn’t clear why teachers mattered at all anymore, human or otherwise. The kids should have been able to plug into the net, and had their educations personally spoon fed to them by a sufficiently intelligent Arty. But such an Arty had preceded the bot experiment, and it had failed too. Again, no one knew why.
“Children! Children! Pay attention, please—Erin, stop making faces at Minh right this moment, and look this way. Very good. You too, Iwao. I want you all to say good morning to your new teacher, Ms. Jiang.”
Lisa smiled as prettily as she could. “Good morning, class.”
A dozen decidedly human faces. And silence.
But I thought…
A dozen pairs of eyes studied her with that mixture of hope, awe, fear, wonderment, curiosity, amazement, feigned indifference and three or four other emotions that only children could brew in one kettle. Lisa walked over and sat down behind her desk, and perused the surface casually. It was an ordinary desk: there was a pad, a keyboard, mouse, light pen, and a cyberband, which would need some adjustments. For a moment she was back on the colony, about to address all those eager faces she suddenly could see so clearly again. She swallowed what the vision brought up. “Begin recording,” she told the pad. A whispered titter rose in the back of the classroom. She silenced it with icy eyes. Then she folded her hands on the desktop, and leveled a warmer version of the same gaze at all. “Well, now you know my name. It’s going to take a little longer for me to learn all of yours, I’m afraid. You can help me by putting your hands on top of your pads. Erin, that includes you.”
The day went about as well as could be expected. Lisa put the children through a medley of more-or-less standardized tests (to a twelve part harmony of whines and groans), and reached preliminary assessments about their relative skill levels; assessments that matched up well with those she had been given, but she’d learned to rely on her own judgments. None of this told her anything about the individual personalities she was dealing with, of course. That would take time, and, unfortunately, a certain amount of trial and error. But she felt, by the day’s end, that all was going to go well. At least, they all smiled at her as they filed out of the classroom. Even Erin.
The Triaclass="underline" Day One.
She was just starting to enjoy that relaxed feeling one gets when an ordeal is finally over, when she realized she wasn’t alone. Her first thought was to wonder if Julia L’uboleng had a habit of lurking in hallways and scrutinizing people unawares.
The shadow emerged into room light. “They certainly seem enthusiastic,” it said.
“Yes, they do.”
“Of course, children are always that way. Easily excited.”
Lisa had an unpleasant sensation about where this conversation was headed. But she saw no way of avoiding it. “That’s why teaching is all I’ve ever wanted to do, ever since I was a little girl. I can’t imagine any occupation as challenging as—”
“They’re living, feeling beings, you know.”
Lisa wasn’t sure what jerked her harder: the statement itself, or the manner in which it was delivered. Again, there was nothing hard or hostile in L’uboleng’s voice or expression; it was as though she were describing the weather, or a hat she’d seen in a store. Which only made the words’ impact that much harder.
“You have no right to use them as laboratory animals,” she continued. “No matter what your motives are.”
Lisa fought to gain control of herself, but she could not stop from reeling under the assault. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. The shimp girl. What you did to her.”
It was several moments before Lisa could compose herself to say anything. “If you know all the facts of the case you know I did everything I could to protect her,” she tried. But the words sounded weak, insincere and tired, as they always had when she recited them to herself.
“Sure. After you set her up as a bull’s-eye for every bigot on the colony.”
Lisa bit on her words, and her lip. It was the ugly, inedible truth, the type that sits in your guts like an iron ball. The type that sends up biles of guilt every time you forget to make yourself not think about it. She had used Allison—had used all of the children, for that matter—in order to reach the adults. She had done it believing, or at least hoping, that the end would justify such means, that her guilt would be worth the burden. A hope that had been crushed.
“There’s just one thing I want you to know.” The words were harsh now, hard and resolute. “You aren’t going to do with Ben what you did to that girl. I won’t let you. I hope you understand that.”
Ben? What does Ben have to do with—
With that, L’uboleng checked her watch, turned, and made a brisk departure, as though she were leaving an empty room. As soon as she was alone again, Lisa was aware of her hands; they were wet with cold perspiration. Other parts of her body also weren’t as dry as they’d been a few minutes ago. And she could feel her heart wailing away in her chest.
What the hell was that about? What does Ben have to do with it?
“Reed Ready here, ready to let reason reign. Are you ready? Well you’d better be, ’cause you’re in the net, startinggg now—”
“—Bots and other machines to do the work, the cyberlink for entertainment, and when they get lonely. What more do they want? They should be grateful for what they’ve been given, if you ask me.”