A healthy person could have put on another sweater, could have walked around to get the blood moving, could have scared up some wood and started the fireplace.
All Key could do was huddle under his blankets and keep trying to make Ursula think he was warmer than he felt.
They’d passed the time whistling against the approaching dark, talking about how the electricity should come back on any time now. About how PowerSafe had to know about the outage, would probably call to check on them, and send a truck out when they couldn’t get through. About how a tough old bird like Suze wouldn’t let a little snow stop her from getting here, and how Key could probably talk her through getting the generator going when she arrived. About how Rafe would probably come back if Suze couldn’t. No, they kept telling each other, there was nothing to worry about.
Which was a lie. Key knew he was helpless to do anything about the fix they were in, and if someone didn’t come along they wouldn’t be up shit creek, they’d be under it. This left him feeling more angry than afraid. He’d struggled his whole life to attain some measure of independence and self-reliance. He’d thought he had it all worked out, had all the bases covered.
“Are you all right?” Ursula asked gently.
He looked up at her and blinked, realizing that for the last few minutes he’d been sitting there in glum silence, mentally rattling the bars on the cage of his own inadequacy.
He made himself smile for her. “Sure. Just thinking.”
“Me too.” Her face was pale, solemn. Determined. “I’ve estimated that you’ve got about an hour left on your respirator’s power pack.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I’ve been thinking that you should plug into my UPS.”
That idea had already crossed his mind, but he was keeping it to one side. She was utterly dependent on that power. Any he took would cut her chances for survival.
“We’ll figure out what to do… about that when the time comes, love.”
“Is that wise? Waiting?”
He chuckled. “Probably not. But it’s a very human thing to do.” Now there was an argument to put her off for a while. “Besides, the power will probably… come back on by then.”
“If you’re sure,” she said doubtfully.
“Really truly absolutely.”
The smile that appeared on her face warmed him, a candle inside his heart. He knew she trusted him implicitly, and hated to use that trust against her. But matters of survival changed the rules.
“Say,” he said, “Have I ever told you about Elton… the first attempt at an AI I made… when I was fourteen?”
She gazed up at him out of the small screen, the knowledge that he was trying to distract her scripted in the sweet soft curves of her face. “No, you haven’t,” she said at last.
“It’s a great story,” he assured her with a grin, going on to tell it as the seconds and minutes drifted colder and higher, piling up as relentlessly as the snow outside.
It was full dark now. And cold. So very cold. Key’s breath came out in a feathery plume faintly illuminated by the laptop’s backlit screen. It was all he could do to keep his teeth from chattering. He could barely feel his fingers and feet. Shivers racked his body, but he tried to pass them off as restlessness.
The respirator was definitely running slower now, leaving him feeling light-headed and short of breath.
Like it or not, the time had come to finally admit just how bad their situation was, and talk about what was going to happen next.
Ursula beat him to it, broaching the subject just as he was opening his mouth.
“I think you better plug your respirator in right now.” It wasn’t quite a command, but it was pretty dam close.
Here we go. “No,” he said carefully, “I don’t think so.”
Her face went from surprise to anger in an instant, her brown eyes narrowing and her mouth thinning to a tight line. “You have to,” she said with quiet force. “Your respirator is running out of power and without it you’ll die.”
“I know, my love. But if I use… the juice you have left… then you’ll die too.”
“They could get the power back on before we both run out!”
“They might. But what if… they don’t? This way you’ve got… a better chance to survive.”
“Me?” She stared at him, aghast. “What about you? You can’t let yourself die for me! I’m not alive. I’m just something inside a machine.” She waved her hands and made her virtual workplace disappear. Her fluxcharts sprang up behind her. “Remember these? They’re me. I’m just a thing. I’m not real. I’m not alive.”
He shook his head. “No, not any more. You’re a person. As alive as I am… if not the same way. I can’t tell you… how proud I am of you. You made yourself… more than I did. Earned your life. I’m content to let… you go on fooling… horny old professors… as long as you want.”
She shook her head from side to side, but her eyes never left his face. Her small hands were clenched into fists. Refusing to agree but unable to disagree.
“Listen,” he went on, “I moved out here… to the middle of nowhere… because I hated being… a public freak. Keenan Capra. Brain like Einstein. Body by Tinker Toy. You’d have been a freak too… if I’d marketed you… the way I planned. But when I understood… what you’d become… I knew I couldn’t sell… or license you. You’re a person. Your own person. I’m setting you free.”
“Maybe I am really a person. I feel like one.” She took a deep breath. “But if we’re equally alive then we should have an equal chance to survive a little longer by sharing my backup power.”
She argued her case so beautifully. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to convince her, but if they hashed it over much longer the point would be moot. Breath was coming slower and harder all the time. Still, he wanted her to understand why it had to be this way. “Not a little, my love. Once you can stop… being dependent on one… hardware platform… you’re effectively… immortal.”
She started to interrupt, but he held up his hand. “If you get out… of this mess… hunt up a new place… a safer place… to live. You’re smart. You can figure out… how to upload yourself. You can be free. Forever.”
Once again she was shaking her head in denial. “I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“You have to. listen. I’ve already lived… longer than I expected. I wanted to create… the first AE. I did that… and so much more. Couldn’t top you… if I lived another… million years. Besides. Even if I keep breathing… much more cold… will kill me anyway. My lungs are already… filling with crud. Hear? Trust me. This is best.”
The image on the screen—no, the woman who showed herself through it—regarded him steadily, crossing her arms before her breasts, and her back stiff with refusal.
“It’s not going to work that way,” she informed him. Her voice was velvet soft, but brooked no argument. “You are going to plug into my power supply.”
“What if… I don’t?”
“I’ll purge myself. Then the only reason to keep power to this tin can I’m in is if you want to use it to play Space Invaders.”
He shook his head, proud of how strong her will was, but wishing she just quit fighting. “I don’t think… you can do that.”
Her face was hard, determined. Her eyes gleamed with the elusive fire of life. “Want to bet?” She called up the computer from her virtual desk. The view panned just enough to also show her finger poised over an OFF button. “I lied about the weather forecast this morning so we could be alone. I can do this, too.”