6. ANSL-5.2

Testimony preparations took place in a nondescript office at the far side of downtown, several blocks from the police precinct.

Tisha Varda fidgeted in her seat, heels twitching as she perched her feet on the plastic spider-legs of the spinning office chair.

The plainclothes officers accompanying the district attorneys initially tried to have ANSL-5.2 wait outside the interview room. The decisive, simultaneous “no” from both itself and Tisha Varda, followed by a wary exchange of looks, relegated it to the corner of the room, half-listening to the witness preparation.

It recalibrated the sentiment analysis it had performed on Tisha, adjusting its own neural markers for optimal effectiveness in their interactions.

She had tried to run, as it had predicted.

Probability gave a sixty-eight percent chance of her attempting to decommission it—a number lower than before, as Tisha seemed to have developed a semblance of trust during the swarm incident outside the hotel. Or at least a preference for ANSL-5.2’s presence when dealing with humans who intimidated her.

This led to the conclusion that she trusted ANSL-5.2 more than she did them.

A shift in tone during the questioning recaptured its attention.

“You’ve seen bodies in vats, but are you sure you know what you saw?” The lawyer’s voice carried a subtle false sympathy, expertly applied and likely undetectable to most humans.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Tisha asserted vehemently. “I saw the fucking… the lab. With the organs?—”

“And you’re confident the organs came from the bodies?”

“Well, he sure as fuck didn’t find them lying around in the street, lady.”

The assignment’s agitation grew, sensing the suspicious nature of the questioning but lacking the awareness to pinpoint what was off.

“Do you not want me to testify?” she asked. “Because, like, say the word, lady. I’ll be outta here gladly.”

“Of course we do,” the agent sitting behind the lawyer interjected, disregarding the woman’s disapproving look.

“We just need to be completely sure of what you saw,” the lawyer said, reaching across the table to touch Tisha’s hand, who withdrew it at once.

ANSL-5.2 noted her perceptiveness with some satisfaction.

“We want you to be honest, Ms. Varda,” the woman soothed. “This needs to be a clean trial, with no funny business. We can’t have any perjury.”

Something sparked in Tisha at those words. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “And what if I can’t do that? What if I will perjure myself if you put me on that stand?”

“You’re going on the stand, Varda,” the agent intoned with overt aggression. “I suggest you stop looking for an out and start cooperating.”

Tisha slumped, her heels resuming their twitching.

For the remainder of the interview, ANSL-5.2 listened more intently.

* * *

“I’m meeting my sister two blocks from here,” Tisha said quietly when she refused to get in the car to go home.

ANSL-5.2 recalibrated, displeased. Meeting a family member would not compromise the woman’s testimony, so it had no reason to stop her. But she would try to get away again at some point, and every surprise she attempted to throw at it was just another complication to account for.

“You do not worry about her safety?” ANSL-5.2 tried once more to coax her into the car, holding the door open for her at the curb.

Tisha sucked her lower lip into her mouth, glancing left and right quickly. She stepped off the curb and leaned forward surreptitiously. “Nobody knows she’s my sister.”

Fuck.

ANSL-5.2 faltered at the sudden intrusion of the reaction. It recovered quickly and, not wasting too much processing on it, tucked the feed containing the prior fifteen seconds away into an encrypted local drive. Its base instructions had permitted it to do so should it sense potential for mission compromise, though ANSL-5.2 was not yet prepared to delve into what exactly went into that particular calculation in its neurosynth core.

“Do not mention this to me again.”

“Why?” Tisha asked, but soon enough recognition flickered in her eyes. “We’re being watched.”

ANSL-5.2 did not answer.

“Why would you tell me that?” she pressed.

It studied her, traversing its core for the quickest answer that would make sense.

“It is beneficial to create a false sense of connection with the subject to build trust and minimize the threat of rebellion.”

Tisha squinted up at it, pursing her lips. She placed a hand on her hip and leaned closer to peer up from the edge of the curb, projecting skepticism. ANSL-5’2’s core flagged the increased proximity as disquieting, though had not yet pinpointed the root cause.

“If that were true…” she said slowly, “why would you be telling me?”

ANSL-5.2 slammed the car door shut and banged a hand on the roof, sending the driver away.

“Let’s go,” it said.

“Okay, Mr. False Sense of Connection,” she taunted. “Hey, bytebrains. It’s that way.”

ANSL-5.2 had started moving down the street and stopped, turning to find her jutting her thumb in the opposite direction. She cracked an unabashed grin and led the way.