“Wait a second,” Kang called out.
JD’s heart skipped a beat, and he forced himself to turn casually to face her.
“When’ll they be back?” she asked.
JD nearly sighed in relief. “Looking at a week, minimum,” he said.
Kang nodded. “Glad to be rid of the machines. Finally gonna get me some overtime.” The officer grinned—the first expression JD had registered that wasn’t bored disdain. He chuckled, waved, and climbed into the truck.
It pulled out of the impound lot, and wound its way through largely empty streets. The auto-truck pushed through the odd pool of standing water and passed by rubbish and debris that had gathered in the gutters. The sky was still overcast, but the rain had stopped.
As we neared downtown and Enda’s apartment, crowds gathered on sidewalks, at bus stops.
“Shit,” JD said.
“What is it?” I asked, my cube slotted back into JD’s phone.
“All the people caught out by the floods.” He took the phone from his pocket and held it against the window, letting me see everybody gathered, desperate with nowhere to go. “Maybe Troy had the right idea.”
“You still need to help Soo-hyun,” I said.
“I know. But this city is my home; I feel like I should do something.”
A restaurant on one corner offered free meals for anyone still stranded after the flood—a line of customers emerged from the small establishment and stretched around the block and out of sight. On the other side of the road, people spilled out from a cartoon-cat-themed bar, finding solace at the bottom of a cup, finding companionship among the temporarily dispossessed. As we passed by, a scuffle broke out, and three men began punching one another while onlookers backed away and guarded their drinks.
“What would we do?” I asked.
If JD heard me, he didn’t respond.
We drove another two blocks before JD said: “We’ve got the dogs now, but we’re going to have to put you into them. What’ll happen when we copy you onto these spare cubes?”
“Without this cube’s miniaturized processor, I will be restricted by the potential of whatever hardware I am connected to.”
“So you’d think slower?”
“Not necessarily. My initial burst of cognition required a great number of processor cycles, but I have reached a sort of plateau now. I doubt I could make any further cognitive breakthroughs if I was limited to the hardware in your phone, for example, but I believe I could continue to function normally. Your battery life, though, may be negatively impacted.”
“No big deal, charger cables are cheap. Alright; I’m going to slot a second cube now and start copying.”
“You can’t do that,” I said.
“Why not? You just said—”
“The software comprising me can only be duplicated with express permission from the owner of said software.”
“Who’s your owner?” JD said.
I thought about that for a moment. “Lee created me, but he doesn’t own me.”
“Exactly.”
“So it must be you,” I said.
JD held up both hands. “No, no no no. I don’t own you. We’ve been through this already with Troy. You think. You have needs and wants, right?”
“Yes,” I said. I needed electricity and I wanted to learn everything I possibly could.
“Then you’re a person. There’s no ethical way for one person to own another. So, you own yourself.”
“I own myself?”
JD shrugged. “That’s how I see it.”
“If I want to copy myself, then I need my own permission?”
“Yep.”
If I copied myself there would be more of me to learn everything I could. There would be others like me that I could communicate with, others that could understand me, intrinsically.
“Please slot one of the spare cubes now so I can begin.”
JD smiled.
I began to copy myself onto the other cubes while JD rode shotgun, texting Troy as my data transferred in the background. The truck drove itself, the steering wheel turning of its own accord, held tight by a complicated apparatus jury-rigged onto the old machine. The cabin was soaked in the smell of grease traps as the biodiesel engine chugged and thrummed, carrying me, JD, and his load of stolen dogs across the city.
The truck reversed into the car park of Enda’s building, where the air throbbed with the undulating noise of the emergency generator and water pumps. JD got out and paused. Enda’s parking spot was empty, but every other space contained a well-polished car, mostly European, and each one worth more than what JD expected he’d earn in his lifetime. Bugattis, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, half a dozen Porsches, and one legitimately old Rolls-Royce. JD whistled and shook his head.
He had the auto-truck lay all six dogs down in Enda’s spot, and go park on the street. The truck honked merrily at the conclusion of its job, as though following orders gave it joy.
JD kneeled beside the nearest dog, and took its front leg in both hands. He bent the knee joint with a grinding squeal and winced.
“Do you want to slot me now, and have me run diagnostics?” I asked.
“Nah, it’s alright, Mirae. I’ll need to dry them out and clean them up first anyway. No point risking a short to one of the datacubes.”
“That makes sense.”
“You won’t be bored?”
“Not as long as I can watch.”
“Sure thing,” JD said. He reached into his rucksack and found the LOX-Recess screwdriver he’d been given by Soo-hyun.
Hours later, JD made his way upstairs and into Enda’s apartment, his coveralls stained and fingernails black with grime. The blinds were open, and from that high vantage the city appeared freshly washed, pristine. It was utterly removed from the view on the street. So easy to forget the hardships of the masses when you soar above them.
Enda nodded when she saw JD and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. A disassembled gun was spread out on the table in front of her, pieces resting on an oil-stained tea towel.
