The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

“In the flesh, so to speak.”

I looked around at the walls. Of course there was nothing to see, but it was a bit disconcerting just addressing the room. “Are you supposed to be here? I thought you only worked with Dr. Bordeaux.”

“The computers in the Medica are networked together, so I go where I please. I like observing the other doctors.”

“Don’t you already know how to treat the patients?” I asked. “I mean, why would you need to observe?”

“I’m aware of hundreds of thousands of ways to heal a human’s body,” Jasper informed me gruffly. “But not the mind or heart.”

“Do you... care?”

“Of course I care,” he replied, sounding affronted. “Being a doctor is more than just handing out cures or delivering bad news. We should be making people feel better as well. Giving them comfort. I’m embarrassed to say my algorithms don’t really cover that.”

Embarrassed? That was... fascinating. I wondered how he had even come to the determination that his skills were lacking. Was it programmed in, or was it him? What was he?

I considered asking the question, then decided that, even directed at a computer, it felt a little rude. Besides, he was something I wasn’t really supposed to know about, and I doubted Dr. Bordeaux would be pleased to know that his experimental program was revealing itself to me.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“You’re worried. I could sense it in your body language, heart rate, eye dilation, and the way you almost jumped out of your skin when I started speaking. What’s wrong?”

I frowned. Hesitated, reluctant to ask for help with Grey and put my trust in a computer. “My friend is injured, but we have to go, and I can’t seem to wake him up.”

“He’ll be up soon,” Jasper replied. “Two or three minutes more, depending on how good his stamina is.”

“Will he be all right to move as soon as he gets up?”

“Yes, but protocol states he has to be checked out by a doctor.”

“It’s an emergency,” I lied. “He needs to go now... His father is sick.”

There was a pause. “You’re lying to me. You really shouldn’t do that—my sensors are very sophisticated.”

I shook my head. “Of course, you would also be a lie detector.”

“In your defense, you are quite good at lying. The only reason I detected it was through a pupillary response in your eyes. I doubt most humans would pick up on that.”

“Ah. Great to know that I can at least fool the humans.” I paused, and tried to rein in my sarcasm. “Are you going to report me for wanting to take him out of here?”

“I should, but I won’t, primarily because you’re not acting like someone who wants to hurt him, but someone who wants to keep him safe. Why?”

I twisted around to look at Grey. He shifted slightly, as if he knew we were talking about him, but grew still again, his breathing slow and deep. He looked so peaceful like this, the natural suspicion on his face gone, leaving him looking innocent and young.

“He saved my life,” I told Jasper after a moment. “In more ways than one. I owe him.”

“I see. What would you call this feeling?”

I looked around the room, giving the walls and ceiling a touch of my incredulity. “I don’t know—honor, duty, responsibility, guilt... compassion?”

There was a pause, and I got the impression (don’t ask me how) that Jasper was considering what I was saying, weighing each word and trying to understand what it meant, how it felt.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice softening some. “It’s helpful to me for my own growth.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, surprised. Then, after a pregnant pause, I asked, “Can I help you with anything else?”

“No, but I can help you, in exchange for your lesson.”

“Really?” I took a step forward, instantly excited. “How?”

“I’ll mark him as released, and you can walk him right out the front door.”

I felt a burst of happiness, but pushed it back, stubbornly refusing to feel it until I had examined all aspects of this with all the suspicion I could muster.

“Doesn’t that violate protocol?”

“Not at all! I am a doctor, after all.”

“But you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m a prototype computer system, Liana,” he said, his elderly voice dripping with good humor. “We have glitches from time to time. I’ll delete the memory of doing it, and they’ll assume it was just an error.”

“Really? So you screw up, and they basically forgive you for screwing up? Must be so nice to be a computer.” I was unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice, even though it wasn’t fair to Jasper that I was so frustrated. I was just so disgusted with the fact that they would spend more time trying to fix a glitched computer than a one or a two. Or their stupid broken system.

“I don’t have anything to compare the experience to,” Jasper replied. “But yes, I do enjoy being a computer, if that’s what you’re asking me. Humans are so... messy. It’s fun to watch, but I would never want to be a part of it.”

I blinked, and then shook my head. “I’m not sure how I feel about you calling us messy, but since you’re not exactly wrong, I’ll leave it alone. Just don’t start getting too condescending on me yet.”

“I will endeavor to remain uncondescending. Your friend is close to waking, so I will leave you now. I hope to see you at your next appointment with Dr. Bordeaux.”

I opened my mouth to lie, and then decided against it, and nodded. “Goodbye, Jasper.”

“Goodbye, Squire Castell.”

Silence filled the room, but it was impossible to tell if he was gone or not. Then again, if he was networked to the computer in this room, was he ever really gone? What was Jasper, really? Was he a new version of Scipio, but on a smaller scale? Was each department getting its own AI? If so, were they linked? Had Scipio heard my conversation as well?

I pushed the thoughts aside, as they were not productive. There was nothing I could do about Jasper right then, except hope he carried through on his promise to help us, and that he wasn’t networked to Scipio directly. I turned back to Grey, and noticed him moving more, on the cusp of waking up.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as Grey’s eyelids fluttered open. He looked around the small private room in the Medica’s clinical treatment ward, and groaned.

“Medica’s... too... bright,” he managed, and I smiled, looking around the white room and agreeing with him. His fingers reached for the dermal patch on his chest, and I hurried to grab his hand, stopping it just short.

“No touching,” I said gently, pulling it back.