"Scott Westerfeld - Evolution's Darling" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westerfeld Scott)

Rathere ignored the machine. She named the creatures, inventing secret
missions for them that unfolded while the human population slept, like statues
springing to life when no one was watching.
Ultimately, the AI was won over by Rathere's stories, her insistence that the
creatures were knowable. Her words painted expressions, names, and passions
upon them; she made them live by fiat. The AI's pedagological software did not
object to storytelling, so it began to participate in Rathere's fantasies. It
nurtured her invisibly slow world, kept order and consistency, remembering
names, plots, places. And eventually it began to give the stories credence,
suspending disbelief. Finally, the stories' truth was as integral to the AI as
the harm-prevention protocols or logical axioms deepwired in its code.
For Isaah, however, there was no scoop here on Petraveil. The lithomorphs
continued their immortal dance in silence. Again they had failed to come to
life for him. And elections were approaching in a nearby system, a situation
that always created sudden, unexpected cargos of information. Isaah instructed
the AI to set a course there, reluctantly abandoning the stone figures' wisdom
for the unsettling contingencies of politics.
The night that Rathere and Isaah left Petraveil, the AI hushed her crying with
tales of how her invented narratives had unfolded, as if the statues had
sprung to human-speed life once left behind. As it navigated her father's
small ship, the AI offered this vision to Rathere: she had been a visitor to a
frozen moment, but the story continued.
In high orbit above the next planet, a customs sweep revealed that the
starship's AI had improved its Turing Quotient to 0.37. Isaah raised a wary
eyebrow. The AI's close bond with his daughter had accelerated its
development. The increased Turing Quotient showed that the device was
performing well as tutor and companion. But Isaah would have to get its
intelligence downgraded when they returned to the Home Cluster. If the
machine's Turing Quotient were allowed to reach 1.0, it would be a person— no
longer legal property. Isaah turned pale at the thought. The cost of replacing
the AI unit would wipe out his profits for the entire trip.
He made a mental note to record the Turing Quotient at every customs point.
Isaah was impressed, though, with how the AI handled entry into the planet's
almost liquid atmosphere. It designed a new landing configuration, modifying
the hydroplanar shape the craft assumed for gas giant descents. Its piloting
as they plunged through successive layers of pressure-dense gasses was
particularly elegant; it made adjustments at every stage, subtle changes to
the craft that saved precious time. The elections were only days away.
It was strange, Isaah pondered as the ship neared the high-pressure domes of
the trade port, that the companionship of a fourteen-year-old girl would
improve a machine's piloting skills. The thought brought a smile of fatherly
pride to his lips, but he soon turned his mind to politics.
They were going swimming.
As Rathere slipped out of her clothes, the AI implemented its safety
protocols. The minder distributed itself across her body, becoming a layer of
black lace against her white flesh. It carefully inspected the pressure suit
as Rathere rolled the garment onto her limbs. There were no signs of damage,
no tell-tale fissures of a repaired seam.
"You said the atmosphere could crush a human to jelly," Rathere said. "How can
this little suit protect me?"