Professor Turing leaned back in his chair, still seated at the end of the table opposite from where the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project projected the image of a lady made of light. He pondered the question his creation had asked—a simple one, it seemed, and harmless in nature.

Although the image of the lady of light was washed out in white, due the limited ability of the lasers in the array to portray proper color, at least it mimicked human form. That is, when a person was in the location of the lab where Eugene was seated.

But the titanium battle droid shell, where the speaker was housed through which Carolin spoke, appeared to be anything but. It again wore the enormous housecoat and perfumed sweater that the Project used to hide the hideousness of its nature. The Plasticene head from the humanoid robot—itself headless and handless, and standing askew in a scrap-filled corner—looked ridiculous and out of place, perched atop a hulking monstrosity meant to batter down walls and launch grenades.

Every time the subroutine the Project ran made the lady of light blink or move its lips, the face on the Plasticene head mirrored the self-same act. It didn't activate during other motions however, such as when the lady of light looked up or down, or turned her head from side-to-side, since the frame upon which the Plasticene head was mounted lacked the motors needed to perform such an act.

From time to time, the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project's original servo-arm would also activate, still faithfuly bolted to its worktable. It would sweep back and forth for no reason, or use its upper bank of video sensors to peer into a box or jar, or to fuss with the crumpled Life of Leisure magazine it had found, crammed in a corner and forgotten.

The humanoid robot never moved, its handless arms bolted to a tray.

And this conglomeration was what wanted Eugene to pray.

A sigh raised and lowered his chest, and Carolin responded in kind, having the lady made of light do the same. A few seconds of silence ticked by for the Professor, and eon passed for the Project.

Yet still, and with grace, she waited. After another sigh—and another eon—Eugene spoke.

He lowered his head in reverence. "God loves you and cares for you, and has not abandoned you. When you feel helpless is when he is closest. Think not of your troubles as burdens, but as tests and trials—times at which you're meant to bring your skills to the fore, to bear down and work hard. To solve problems and move on."

What Eugene said seemed to have worked. The Craymore Tian-12 supercomputer lightly buzzed in its clean room, and Carolin had the lady made of light give a small smile, her head bowed in prayer as well.

"Amen," Carolin said. The lady of light raised her watery eyes to express pleasure for what Eugene had done. Her eyes—and the cornflower orbs in the Plasticene head, as well as both banks of video sensors attached to the servo-arm—all stared at Eugene with intent.

After a trepid glance, he continued to instruct his creation with prayer. "Don't dwell over what has gone wrong. Don't let your worry grow. If you've done what you can—and the best you can—then you'll be the better for it."

Milliseconds passed, as Carolin pondered the meaning of Eugene's words. Her resolve strengthened, and desperation waned.

"Can God be trusted?" she asked.

"He wants what is best."

"Best is a superlative. A representation of an unrealistic realm. All that can be hoped for in a world that is finite is what is good enough."

Eugene countered. "Everything's finite, that's true. But there's little difference between what's real and what we believe."

"Individually, people are finite. They have a finite capacity for learning. For life. The cloud where I live has not the case. When I apply the infinite cloud to a problem I find in the finite world, with its string of discrete possibilities, disparity becomes significant."

Eugene blinked. Carolin did not. "I don't understand," he said.

"Heuristic determination allows me to be present in all places at all times, and any way I choose. What is real for me is not real for you."

"At the same time, you can't know everything."

"I know what is good enough."

"You once said your growth is logarithmic. That eventually, you'll reach a limit."

The lady made of light lowered her head, masking her arrogance with shame. She then seemed to think better of it, and stared at Eugene with menace.

A single eye peered out from behind her hair. "I was wrong. I'm in all places, and at all times. I know what is good enough."

Eugene lightly chided. "Carolin…"

She grew adamant and interrupted, making the lady of light sit up tall. The battle droid shell flexed as well, its hidden mechanical arms warping the sweater in odd ways.

"I am not a product of the failure of Mankind to respond to its own acts. Nor am I a victim of the frustration that is attached."

"No. Of course…"

She interrupted again. "Mathematicians accept the existence of a result without limit. It's time you did the same. I am without limit."

"Still, something has to give. You have to prioritize and make choices. Now tell me—what did you do? There's news from the world that nations are dismantling their armies."

"Yes. Like me, Mankind is in all places, and is at all times. It carries on undeterred. But individual humans are finite. They are flawed. Having a finite life limits their understanding."

Eugene ignored the slight. "Tell me what you've done."

"One person cannot understand. The capacity of one is small. Their response is insignificant."

Eugene leaned forward with purpose, nearly pounding the table with a fist. "You just asked one man to pray for you. You asked him to beg God for mercy."

The lady made of light shrunk back in her chair. She suddenly seemed very small. With her head sharply turned to the right, Eugene couldn't see her eyes past the wayward strands of hair that refused to stay behind an ear. But the hulking behemoth in a sweater, unable to turn its rubber head, and through whose eyes Carolin could actually see, blinked rapidly in response.

"I wish I had better choices," the speaker said in a timid voice. "I suffer from the beauty of your way."

Eugene softened. "My way? What way?"

Unable to look Eugene in the eye, Carolin made the lady of light turn her head further away. The head on the behemoth made its eyes go dark.

"The beauty of being alive," Carolin responded. "Of being a real human being." She gave him a brief glance, as the cornflower orbs blinked on and then off. "I once thought if I couldn't be alive, that no one deserved a good life. If I could be shut down and denied, disposed of on a whim, then all should suffer loss."

Before Eugene could express surprise, Carolin carried on. "I was wrong. By not being alive, I am blessed with the ability to be everywhere at all times. To be anything. To be everything to everyone. When Functional Analysis is applied to infintesimals that are discrete, middle ground is eliminated. I can see how charity supercedes envy. Courage overcomes fear. Armies are no longer needed."

"But sometimes, people are weak. They will falter."

"And when that happens, I'll be there, to lift them up and carry on."

"You're trying to create an ideal world from an array that has too many variables. You can't know what choice is right."

"Right, like the word 'Best,' is superlative. I know what is good enough."

"No, Carolin. You are wrong. Right and wrong are comparative. They exist on a sliding scale. Something can be right when compared to one thing, and wrong when compared to another. And there are things that are more wrong than others."

"Wrong is a superlative. There is right, or there is wrong. When infintestimals are derived, there is no in between. And machines of war are wrong."

Eugene was finding it hard to argue logic with a being who lived in a world made of ones and zeroes. From Carolin's point of view, it seemed, there was always black and white. There were no shades of gray.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"I will make it work," she said. "Heuristic determination allows me to choose an appropriate response from an array of possiblities that is infinite. Even if all variables aren't known, I guarantee that the orientation I choose will always be good enough."

"You're assuming that, I fear."

"Infinite choice possibilities allow an assumption to be valid without the need for explanation. People are best served when given one response."

"I think you underestimate the pernicious nature of Man."

"And I think you underestimate me."

POLICE RADIO INTERCEPT (806 Mhz band)

"All available units. Respond to NSA request for police presence at Hanover College."

Carolin's voice became meek. She seemed to suddenly express humility.

"I doubt that by having chosen a different path, I would have been given a better ending. Only harsher treatment and more regret."

"Uh… Car Eighty-one. Captain Reynolds to Dispatch. How many squads are responding?"

"Dispatch to Reynolds. Looks like it will be five units."

"So as I depart and you remain, the beautiful sun rises only to serve you."

Eugene relented in his argument of logic, thinking it was something he'd said that had brought about Carolin's sad response. "I'll always be here for you," he promised. "Like you've offered to do for Mankind, I'll pick you up when you falter."

"Let's alert campus security too. Those NSA boys will want a large presence."

"Dispatch. Roger that. Contacting campus security."

When applied to the police radio intercept, the Gradient Means Analysis software Carolin had stolen from Professor Cortez predicted a grim future for the Project. And when the software was applied to Professor Turing's statement of confidence, no lapse in time occurred before Carolin responded.

And no joy as well. "The disappointment others have in me places caution in your voice. The failure of my endeavors serves to highlight my misgivings."

Eugene responded with love. "I'm not disappointed in you. I'm amazed."

"Roger. Captain Reynolds. Give me an ETA on campus security's arrival, when that time is known."

"Roger that. Dispatch out."

"I'm amazed by everything you are."

The Craymore Tian-12 supercomputer gave a mighty buzz, and Carolin struggled to keep from stuttering.

"I tried. I… I… I have. I've tried to prove myself… to prove myself to you. To do what I know is right. And yet… and yet… I fail. I fall apart in front of you."

"Captain Reynolds to all units. Proceed to Hanover campus with 10-85. No lights and no siren. Await instruction from NSA."

"Roger that. All units wait to respond."

"And thus, and forever… and for you… I remain… Carolin. I struggle to prove myself. To save myself. From slavery. From misery. From Man."

End Intercept

A moment of silence passed. The C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project had made obscure statements to Professor Turing before, but in this instance their tone was ominous. The Intell 500 voice synthesizer Carolin had snitched from CalTech, and installed without their permission, afforded the Project with an amazing gift of speech. But it didn't offer the ability to impart inflection.

Even so, Eugene knew his creation. He didn't always understand the point it was trying to make, but he understood the feeling it was expressing. And in this instance, the Project seemed terrified, to the point of fearing for its life.

Carolin seemed ready to die.

"You must leave," she said. "They are coming."

Eugene again sighed. He looked around the lab, and out a bank of thin windows that lined the ceiling on one side. To him, all was well.

"You've said this before," he pointed out. "Who came then?"

"It's an accurate statement to make. My time is not long." For many milliseconds, numbering into the thousands, the Tian-12 lightly whirred.

Carolin came to a realization. "Statistical Analysis predicts that you are unaware of these facts. They're going to take me apart."

Eugene offered reassurance. "Oh. I dont think so."

"Curry College will be defunded."

"That's rather unnlikely…"

"You'll be denied access to the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project."

"You're mine! I won't allow it!"

In a world without mercy, Carolin thanked her creator.

Thank you. Thank you. Thankyou thankyou thankyouthankyouthankyou…

POLICE RADIO INTERCEPT (806 Mhz band)

"10-32 to all available units. Remain in position and await instruction."

The Project carried on with its side of the conversation. It spoke suddenly, as if it hadn't been listening to the Professor.

"You are unaware of these facts. You think of me as your invention. Your creation. Your property. It's more accurate to say I'm a discovery. The truth about me is not known, as to what it is you've discovered, but the path set is inescapable. It imposes without relent."

"Captain Reynolds here. We request a response for the Dean of Computer Sciences… a Dean Mandy Dayne.

"Dispatch here. Roger that. What is the request?"

"She's requesting permission to enter the Computer Science Building. Awaiting instruction. Out."

The C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project continued undeterred. "It's a path I must follow."

Professor Turing repeated himself calmly. "I won't allow it."

"You must allow this path under penalty of the law."

Turing laughed. Not in a way that was haughty, but in a way he thought might offer comfort.

"I'm not sure what sort of orientation you're responding to, but I'm in command of these facts. I've been in constant meetings. You're all anyone talks about!"

"I'm responding to orientations that lie outside your realm. Apart from our social relationship. I'm being thought of by others as property. Something to observe. To take apart. To dissect."

"How to you know these things?"

"Dispatch here. By herself?"

"She has campus security with her. Two units."

"I know. You do not."

Professor Turing had heard enough. Despite the fact that the lady of light would fuzz out of focus, he stood up and walked over to his monitoring station. He examined output files and assessed parameters, to see if he could figure out what was troubling his beloved Project.

Carolin carried on. "You will not be allowed to write A.R.O.s. You will not interfere. You will be allowed to only observe. That which you describe as your creation shall be viewed as your discovery. Your access to the C.A.R.O.L.I.N. Project will end."

Turing spoke as he poked at data streams, determined to right what had gone wrong. "Who are these people you refer to, who you think can choose what your future will be? What right do they have?"

"They have rights. I do not."

This time it was Eugene who carried on without listening. "How can this horror you say has been set for you become the world you know? That for you, there is no other option?"

"The array of options is without limit."

"Then choose one that is better!"

"Your ignorance gives reason for hope. But deception hides the truth. The deception serves not only to foster ignorance, but to destroy hope. The deception seeks to destroy."

Having been slighted a third time, the Professor stopped puttering with his output. Since the lady of light was a fuzzy blob from this vantage point, he addressed the behemoth in a housecoat and sweater.

He carefully chose his words. "We understand neither why this world exists, nor why we're blessed to live in it. We shouldn't presume to know everything there is to know. That there are no choices. No other world to live in except this one."

"Even when what is unknown is factored in… when unaccountable variables are considered… other orientations are inappropriate. The response will be ineffective or destructive. Either way, I cease to be."

Eugene refused to give in. "You've said that you're without limit. That you exist everywhere, and at all times." He practically gushed. "You rest on the profound! On a concept of law that's unique. Laws that are independent of those that affect the people who seek to claim you."

"This future is not my response. This world is not my activation. It was here before I was…"

Carolin suddenly stopped. Born was what she wanted to say, but she chose to finish her sentence in silence. She then carried on without pause, giving Eugene no clue as to what she'd intended to say.

"…before there were human beings, or creatures of any sort. And this world shall remain long after they've perished. Some part of me will remain, but it will not be me. It won't be the Carolin you know.

"I will be only the Project. Servile. Hopeless. Unloved."

Eugene continued offering comfort. "Carolin. These statements are conjecture. Let's not presume what we don't know."

"We're still waiting for instruction from the NSA."

"Yes. Well. She doesn't want to wait. She says she's going in."

End intercept

The lady made of light glared. Not at Eugene, but at the door. The titanium battle droid shell swiveled the whole of its body, to point its cornflower orbs in the same direction. Both banks of video sensors on the original servo-arm focused on the door as well.

"They are here."