Chapter 29
Artificial Empathy

“Computer.” Blake sat in front of the terminal in her room. Andromeda was in the lab, no doubt enjoying the plant samples the Captain had brought back from the planet’s surface, like the rest of her department. And Blake was still technically off duty. Not that that was stopping her. 

“Listening.” The computer’s gentle voice rang out of the speaker. Blake wondered who had given it that voice. Was its cadence, its vocal identity, just a setting? Was it completely artificial or had someone, once upon a time, created a recording for it? 

“I’m trying to get a better grasp on the current stress levels of the crew, and see if we can get a handle on where it’s coming from, who it’s affecting most, that kind of thing.”

“Acknowledged.” Blake leaned back in her seat and avoided rubbing her face. The slight stubble, the one that didn’t really go away no matter how much she shaved, the one that was more in her head more than anything, would just make her squirm. 

She tapped a few things on the tablet in her hands. “I’ve given you a list of census data from the psychological team. Can you cross-reference and give me a list of everyone with self-reported stress levels above this threshold?” 

“Doctor-Patient confidentiality supersedes rank unless there is immediate threat to the ISS Sollipsis or its crew. Is there an immediate threat to the ship, First Officer Blake?”

She shook her head. “No, there isn’t. Don’t worry about it.” 

There was a slight delay. “Acknowledged,” the computer said.

“Were you?” Blake asked, looking at the screen. There wasn’t a face to look back at her, but it just made sense to talk to the thing that made noise at her. “Worried, I mean.”

“My primary function is the operation of the ISS Sollipsis and the well-being of its crew,” the computer said, “with secondary functions including resource management, piloting assistance and life-support management, as well as providing detailed analysis on data acquired during the mission.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I think. Well, like I said, other than our current issues with the engine — which I’ve been told you don’t know anything about,” Blake said, side-eyeing the monitor for a moment, “I don’t think it’s gotten to the point of danger just yet. Mostly just… people being upset. And I want to see where I can help. Not on the level of threats, but more like… satisfaction. Happiness. I think people are upset. I do need your help on this one. Like, in an official capacity.”

“Acknowledged,” the computer said. “And understood. Allocating processing power. Additional permissions granted.”

“Glad you understand,” Blake said, looking at her tablet and trying to figure out what to do next. “But until I understand why some people are more affected than others, I’m afraid there’s not a lot to do. We can keep treating symptoms, but we need to find a cause.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Is it possible for you to be more… assertive?” Blake asked on a hunch, putting the tablet down on her lap. “Not to force you into anything you’re not… I don’t know, comfortable with, I suppose. But like, is it possible for you to ask questions? Might help to bounce ideas off each other, you know.”

“Processing,” the computer said. There was a little loading icon on the screen that Blake knew was solely for her benefit. Then, with a slight chime, the computer’s voice came out of the screen again, a little less… practiced, this time. “What would you like me to ask?”

“Hah! That’s neat! Thank you, computer,” Blake said, feeling triumphant. She was getting a virtual assistant to open up to her. That was a victory of sorts, right? It was funny how much more comfortable she was talking to the artificial intelligence than she was to most people. Probably because the ship’s computer didn’t judge. Might not even have the capacity for it. “Now, for the kind of questions I think would be really helpful is like… if you have the feeling that data could be pertinent to what I’m currently looking into, you could offer it up, you know? Is that something you could do?”

“Acknowledged,” the computer said. Good. Cool. Cool cool cool. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be customizing the computer like this, and she hoped it wouldn’t affect its interactions with the rest of the crew. It would probably be fine. 

“Where were we?” Blake asked. 

“You have one standing query.” Blake heard her own voice come through the speakers, and it made her want to hide under the desk until it went away, but she was currently trying to get work done, so she just gritted her teeth and endured it. “We can keep treating symptoms,” the computer said with her voice, “but we need to find a cause.” Blake was about to say something, when the AI spoke with its own voice again. “Would you like me to help diagnose the illness?”

“I… yes, actually!” Blake sat up, excitedly. “This is exactly the kind of stuff I was hoping for, thank you!” She looked at her tablet again. “So, when you say illness, I’m sure you’re extrapolating from my using the word ‘symptom’, but we aren’t looking for the actual illness. We know the issue is likely to be ennui of some kind. A malaise related to our encountering other lifeforms and the impact this has had on our world-view, our place in the universe.”

“Acknowledged. Has it impacted yours?”

“Has it…” Blake said, mouthing the words, and then looked at the computer. “I suppose it has,” she said. “Although I’ve been more than a little preoccupied with my own journey of self-discovery lately. Though I suppose it’s related too.” She stood up and paced through the room. “I think… because I’ve been so focused on my relationship to myself, I haven’t really had to consider my relationship to the universe as a whole.” She ran her fingers along the wall, fingertips grazing the synthetic walls. “I think I’ve made my peace with it, because I wasn’t really considering myself as a part of the world until I realized I… existed, I guess.”

“Acknowledged.” Blake stopped and laid down on her bed, putting her hand under her head. She wasn’t all that badly impacted by all of it. It was funny how her own issues had been so central to her life these past few days, that the fact that they’d encountered alien life barely even seemed to play into it. 

“So yeah. Any thoughts?” she asked, turning to face the computer.

“A change in perception of the universe does not impact the ego unless the ego is perceived to exist within it.” Well, that was… a summary, Blake supposed. It came off almost as philosophical. On the other hand, this was a philosophical issue. The computer continued when she didn’t say anything. “Insufficient data to extrapolate.”

“Can you theorize anyway?” Blake asked. “It’s okay if you can’t. Just trying to see something.” Would the computer be able to make things up? It wasn’t exactly programmed to make judgement calls, but then again, it had proven to be remarkably adaptable, and even if this avenue of questioning proved to be fruitless, it would still have been worth it just for the breakthroughs Blake had made in talking to the AI.

“Processing,” the computer said. “If ego and satisfaction are proportional to worldview stability, it follows that those most affected are those with previously reported high satisfaction.”

“But that’s just a theory,” Blake nodded. “Although we might be able to verify that, right?”

“Affirmative.” Blake looked at the computer terminal again. She wondered sometimes if the people who had programmed in the AI’s language deliberately gave it a more artificial way of speaking, too. To make it ‘feel’ more like talking to a computer. 

“Okay. Can you give me a… graphic overview of crew complaints,” she asked, “and weight it by the difference in crew happiness before and after first contact.” 

“Processing,” the AI said. After a moment, a visual model of the ship appeared, with bars and graphs all over. They were almost impossible to read, because there were over a thousand of them. Right, this wouldn’t work. 

“Can you sort by department? Do I have access to that data, at least?” 

“Affirmative.” This time, the model was a lot easier to read, and the results were interesting. 

“What’s with the spike in engineering?” Blake asked, talking to herself more than anything.

“Unknown,” the AI said. “Doctor-Patient confidentiality pr—”

“I know,” Blake said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off. Okay, but that’s good to know, thank you.” It was frustrating to make progress only so incrementally, but it was the best she could do. “Okay, so there seems to be a large spike in anxiety and dissatisfaction in the Engineering department if we look at the weighted stuff,” she said. “That’s not great. I wonder why it’s happening there. Were there any issues with the Engineering crew when we made landfall on the Core World?”

“A large cadre of Engineering staff remained on board the ISS Sollipsis during shore leave.”

Huh. That was interesting. And not necessarily a good thing. “Who is the Chief of Engineering?”

“Officer Ellen Gosseyn is the current Chief of Engineering,” the AI said, and displayed the woman’s profile on Blake’s tablet. The woman’s picture stared her in the face with a stern expression. She had high cheekbones and piercing eyes, the kind of person Blake knew she’d be easily intimidated by. That was potentially another problem. On the other hand, this was the kind of situation she knew she had to fix. As First Officer, the crew’s happiness was partly her responsibility. 

“Did she go on shore?” Blake asked, reading through the woman’s background. She was too young to have fought in the war, but her parents had, and she’d been born and raised in spacedocks, where she’d been on and around interplanetary vessels all her life. 

“Negative,” the computer said. “She turned down an invite by the captain.” Blake looked up from her tablet. “Captain Durand did not press the issue.”

“Strange,” Blake mumbled. All of it was. The fact that someone would decline an invite from the Captain and the idea of not wanting to see an alien world for the first time. The captain’s invite itself, at least, made a degree of sense. As a senior officer, Gosseyn would have been given priority. “Do you think she might know something about the ship being stranded the way it is?”

“Unknown. However, as the Chief of Engineering, the statistical likelihood of involvement in the incident is not insignificant.”

“So you’re saying you think she’s involved?” Blake asked. Oh boy. 

“Affirmative,” the AI said. “Officer Gosseyn is a decorated and accomplished Engineer. Her team are all some of the best in their field.” Blake frowned. That was even more worrying. “I have a theory.”

“Let’s hear it,” Blake said as she sat up and put her tablet aside. 

“Officer Gosseyn has authority over and knowledge of the ship’s systems, including my perception thereof. It is within her ability to restrict my ability to ascertain issues or complications relating to the engine.” It paused. “She has ability, motive and opportunity to perform sabotage. Shall I contact Security Officer Mayes?”

Blake shook her head. “I don’t want to believe it. No, not yet. I want to talk to her myself first. I think there’s something I’m missing. I’m going to go talk to her, I think. Just… keep an eye on me, I guess?” She started to walk towards the door. 

“Affirmative, Officer Blake.” She stopped and turned around. 

“There’s one more thing,” Blake asked. “Do you have a name?”

“My executable designation is ISS_SOL_0451_1701_V_22.21.”

“So that’s a no?”

“Affirmative,” the AI said. “According to Devrim Suleiman’s notes, increased humanization of a ship’s artificial intelligence virtual assistant reduces effectiveness.”

“Oh, I hate that,” Blake said as she walked up to the door and opened it. “Well, as someone who also doesn’t have a name yet, how about, when I find mine, I’ll find you one. I don’t like calling you ‘computer’.”

“Affirmative.”