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“When you create something that could put America in danger and blow up the entire world,” Steinbeck growled, “it’s called terrorism.”
“Listen,” Declan said, “I can’t control how people use the technology I give them.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made it in the first place.”
Declan held up his hand, clearly schooling his voice.“It’s also used for self-driving cars for people with disabilities and for robot dogs that can serve as security and even assist the vision impaired, and frankly, it could be used in nanotech to target and destroy cancer cells.I’m working on all sorts of adaptations to this AI program, so let’s not start calling people names.”
Steinbeck’s jaw tightened.
But what Declan said made sense.The wordterroristfelt like a reach.
“I don’t understand.Why does he think you’re a terrorist?”Austen said.
Declan sighed.“Because my technology can be used to create supersoldiers.And obsidite is the vehicle that makes that processing happen.”
“And you stole the program.”
“I rerouted it into a more secure, out-of-the-Russian-Mafia’s-hands location.”
“But you have it.”
“I have a backup copy.”He scrubbed his hands down his face.
Austen wanted to reach out and take his hand.But whatever this man was into, she just didn’t know if she possessed enough bandwidth for it.She liked her simple, although currently homeless, life.“You live a complicated life, Declan.”
He looked over at her, grimaced.“Yes, I do, I guess.”He straightened.“All we have to do is get back to land.I have people, and we can fix this.”
Steinbeck looked at him.“Are you kidding me?How are you going to fix this?”
Declan drew in a breath, clearly fighting a retort.She could almost see the Marine in him, stoic, unmovable.“I’m going to find my ship and make sure the cargo is destroyed.”
What?“Didn’t you say you were using it for medical advances and a cancer cure and helping people find healing?Those seem like pretty good uses.”She turned to him.“You can’t control whether bad people take your good program and use it to do evil.”
Steinbeck stood with one knee on the seat, not looking back.
“No,” Declan said.“But it is my responsibility to do whatever I can to make sure that evil doesn’t win.”
“Evil doesn’t win.”Austen wished Steinbeck would turn, because she wanted to say,See?Good guy.Not a terrorist.
Maybe Steinbeck heard her twin-ESP, because he shook his head, glanced at Declan.“What about all the deals you made with the Chinese and the North Koreans and the Russians in Barcelona?”
“What deals?”
“Don’t lie to me.I have a source who told me that you were thinking of selling the program to one of them.”
Declan’s mouth opened.Then, quietly: “For medical purposes.I wouldn’t think of giving them defense capability.”
“But like you said, you can’t control how people are going to use it,” Steinbeck said.He glanced at Austen and wore his ownsee?expression.
She glared at him as he added, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Declan looked away as Austen flinched.
They drove in silence.
Finally, Declan turned to her.“My mom was a nurse.All I ever wanted to do was help people the way she did.”
“That’s why you brought Farid to America and why you purchased the orphanage and why you’re involved in so many charity organizations,” Austen said.