The Body Electric - Special Edition (44 page)

Jack and I exchange glances. “I didn’t know what to do with her,” I confess. “And I wasn’t sure who to trust, at least not at first, so…”

PA Young narrows her eyes. “What did you do?” she asks.

Jack and I lead her down into the basement of the Reverie Mental Spa, into the reverie chamber, where Ms. White is plugged into the machine.

“I’ve rigged it to give her a continual dose of the drug,” I say.

“That’s not much of a punishment.” PA Young scowls at Ms. White’s sleeping form.

“She’s not reliving happy memories,” Jack says.

PA Young’s eyes dart back and forth between us.

“I’ve made her relive, over and over, the last few days,” I say softly, watching Ms. White’s body. “I’ve had to fill in the blanks with my own feelings and experiences. She’s spiraling around those last moments, those times when she went against me, and she’s feeling it from my side, the pain, the betrayal.”

She thinks she’s awake. I’m doing to her just what she did to me. I’m making her feel what it was like to slowly go crazy, to question everything. To watch my mother die. To fight for my life against my best friend. To feel the man who loved me try to kill me.

To know that the woman I trusted as much as my own mother betrayed me.

That’s what I’m making her feel.

I’ve turned her into me, and made her live the life she forced me to live.

Over and over and over again.

As PA Young leaves—escorted by a frantic security detail that had no idea where she’d gone the night before—Jack and I stay behind. He leads me to the roof of the apartment, the place that was, in another life, ours. It’s hard to see the stars in the perpetual twilight made by the lights of the city, but we squint up at the sky anyway.

I lean into his hard chest. Akilah is awake and herself again, and she and Julie and Xavier are coming here. They are the only family I have left, and joy bubbles up inside me at the knowledge that, despite everything, I am not alone.

I lean back in the warmth of Jack’s arms, and the infinite sky stretches out before me, and for the first time in my life, I finally feel free.

A fat, fuzzy bumblebee meanders by, buzzing softly as it dips among the flowers in the rooftop garden.

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may

contribute a verse.

—Conclusion of Walt Whitman’s “O Me! O Life!”

A SINCERE THANKS TO ALL MY READERS

This book, quite simply, would not exist without you. Thank you for reading and supporting my writing. I deeply appreciate you, and hope you enjoyed
The Body Electric!
Continue reading for more information on my work and additional content, including a short story, an interview, and more.

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There’s more to read!
If this is the first book by Beth you’ve read, make sure you check out her first science fiction trilogy.
Across the Universe
is the story of two teens trapped aboard a generation space ship bound for a new planet, and the sequels,
A Million Suns
and
Shades of Earth,
show their struggle to escape the ship and find a new home.

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Continue reading!
There’s more to this book—don’t put it down yet! Exclusive bonus content follows…

AFTER FINISHING
the
Across the Universe
series, I knew I wasn't quite done working on science fiction, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to explore next. I tried several different ideas, but nothing was sticking.

I remember very clearly sitting at a sandwich shop

with my husband when he brought up Alan Turing and the infamous Turing Test, the test used to determine if something is a computer or a human. By the time we finished lunch, I had the following story, "The Turing Test," nearly completely formed. What I didn't realize is that the seed of that idea was still growing in my mind--this novel is evidence of that.

The following is the original story that sparked the idea. "The Turing Test" was originally printed in 
Lightspeed Magazine
 under the editor John Joseph Adams.

THE TURING TEST
BETH REVIS

Test Facility Site: Nabco Research Station B

Test Administrator: Dr. Richard K. Philip

Test Subject Identity Code: ES42

Test Administered: Turing

“Do you know why you’re here?” Dr. Philip asks.

I laugh. “I would be rather stupid if I didn’t.”

Dr. Philip’s smile is indulgent, which frustrates me. I uncross my legs at the ankle and re-cross them at my knees, not bothering to readjust my skirt. Dr. Philip blushes and looks down at his clipboard.

“I need you to state your reasoning,” he says. “For the record.”

He might be a professor, but he isn’t much older than me. Not more than a decade. Just about right.

“My name is Elektra Shepherd,” I say. “I’m eighteen years old. A freshman in university, majoring in artificial intelligence. Today I am a participant in a Turing test. For the record,” I add in a lower voice, just so I can see Dr. Philip blush.

“Thank you, Ms. Shepherd,” Dr. Philip says.

I smile at him, relishing the feel of my heavy lipstick on my lips.

“And could you state what you think a Turing test is?” he adds.

I raise my eyebrow at him.

“For the record.”

“A Turing test is a test developed to determine whether or not artificial intelligence has, well, 
intelligence.
 Essentially, a person—me, in this case—is separated in one room. Across that wall,” I point to the wall directly opposite me, “is another room. Inside the room is one person and one A.I.. All three of us are going to have a little conversation, and then I’m going to tell you which one the person is.”

“Which one you 
think
 is the person,” Dr. Philip says, making a note on the paper in his clipboard.

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Richard.”

“Dr. Philip, please.”

“Come on, 
Dr. Philip.
 I know I’m just a freshman, but I think I’ll be able to figure out the difference between a computer and a person.”

Dr. Philip laughs, and something in the harsh sound makes me uncross my legs and readjust my skirt. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” he says. “A.I. has come quite a long way in the last five or so years.”

I have a dozen witty comebacks for his words, but not one for the sneering tone of his voice.

“Shall we get started?” Dr. Philip asks.

“Let’s,” I say.

Dr. Philip does a sound check on the microphone and a visual check on the video recorder that will be monitoring me. The two screens on the wall across from me light up. SUBJECT BLUE, the first screen says in bright blue letters across the top of the black screen. SUBJECT RED, the other screen says.

“I’ll be just on the other side of the door if you need anything,” Dr. Philip says as he opens the door. I nod. He shuts the door, and I hear a lock click into place.

The two screens across from me fade to black.

A minute goes by.

“Hello?” I finally say.

“Hi!” flashes in bright blue letters across the screen on the left.

“Hey,” flashes in duller red letters across the screen on the right.

“Let’s begin,” I say.

“Let’s,” says Blue.

“Okay,” says Red.

I glance at the video recorder in the corner of the room, aware that Dr. Philip’s eyes are on me right now. It makes me uncomfortable, as if I were the one being tested, not Red and Blue.

“Well, I guess the obvious question is . . . are both of you human?”

“Yes,” says Blue.

“Obviously,” says Red. “But then again, if the whole point of this test is to trick you, then I’d of course say that I was human, even if I wasn’t.”

I lean forward, smiling. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to make this easy on me.”

“That’s not a question,” Blue says.

“I would like to make this as difficult as possible for you,” Red says.

“Okay . . .” I think fast. “What’s the square root of four-thousand-thirty nine?”

Math has always been my strong point—if Blue or Red figures out this problem quicker than me, then that one must be A.I..

“63.5531274,” Blue says as I’m still figuring out the last numbers.

Gotcha,
 I think.

“I’m a math major, ha-ha,” Blue adds after that.

Maybe not.

“The answer is 62,” Red says.

“Ha!” I laugh triumphantly, “The answer isn’t 62!” This is too easy—an A.I. just has a fancy calculator for a brain, it would know the right answer immediately.

“But,” Red types quickly, his words forming on the screen as fast as I can read them, “If I were trying to trick you into thinking I was a human, then obviously I would tell you the wrong answer.”

I narrow my eyes. “Then what is the right answer?”

“I don’t know,” Red says.

But, of course, that’s what he would say if he was trying to trick me.

Math wouldn’t work—basic knowledge wouldn’t work. Even if Blue answered everything correctly from the year Columbus discovered America to the exact number of electrons in carbon, he could just be really smart. And even if Red failed every question I asked—he could just be getting them wrong on purpose to throw me off his scent.

Time to get personal.

“I’d like to get to know you both better,” I say. “What’re your names?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Blue says. “We’re supposed to be anonymous.”

“Andy,” Red says.

“We’re supposed to be anonymous, huh, Blue?” I ask, smirking. “So I guess you’re not going to tell me much more than that you’re a math major?”

“I don’t think I was supposed to say that . . .” Blue says.

“The computer told you he was a math major?” Andy says. “Funny. Bet he guessed the square root question so quick he had to throw you off with that.”

I laugh—then I realize that by laughing, I’m already thinking that Andy is real, not Blue, and I want to keep an open mind. Dr. Philip said the test would be tricky, and it is.

“What about you?” Andy asks.

“Me?”

“What’s your name, major, all that stuff.”

“I’m Elektra, a freshman in A.I..”

“A.I.!” Andy says, and even though the words are written across the screen, I can imagine his tone of voice: impressed with a hint of laughter for the joke of an A.I. major conducting a Turing test.

“Yeah,” I say. “You?”

“Sophomore in engineering.”

“What kind?”

It takes Andy a moment to respond. “What kind of sophomore? Just the regular kind, I guess.”

I really do laugh aloud now. “No, I meant—what kind of engineering?”

“Oh! Ha-ha. Android engineering.”

“So you make robots?” I ask. There’s a huge competition between my college and his—the running joke is that the A.I. college makes the brains and the android engineering college makes the body.

“Are we still doing the test?” Blue asks, and I’m reminded of why I’m here, and that Andy might not even be real.

“Enough background,” I say, straightening up in my chair and assuming a more authoritative voice. “Let’s discuss philosophy. What’s the meaning of life?”

“What do you think is it?” Blue asks.

“That’s a stupid question,” Andy says. “It means something different for every person.”

“Well, what do 
you
 think?”

“I think,” Andy says. His words appear on the screen slowly, as if he’s contemplating each word carefully. “I think that life doesn’t have a meaning. It just is.”

“That’s kind of dark. So, is there a God?”

“Does it matter if there’s a God?” Blue asks.

“An interesting question, considering what we’re doing,” Andy says.

“What do you mean?”

“Just . . . if there is a God . . . does that fly in the face of this test? Your major?”

“What, A.I.?”

“Yeah, artificial intelligence. I think you could make a case that A.I. invalidates the possibility of God.”

“Why?”

“If man can make life—because, honestly, isn’t A.I. life?—if man can do that, then what’s the point of God?”

“This is not a religious debate,” Blue says.

“You’re right,” I say, but Andy’s words have thrown me off. I wouldn’t say I was a religious person, per se, which is why I never thought of the way religion doesn’t seem to co-exist too well with A.I. studies. But . . . A.I. is A.I.—it’s not a human. “If artificial intelligence does gain sentience . . .” I say slowly, thinking about each word, “If, for example, Andy, you’re the A.I., but you trick me into thinking that you’re human—if A.I. is so clever and intelligent that it could pass for human . . . does that necessarily mean it has a soul?”

“Why would a soul matter?” Blue asks.