The discussion shifted away from weighty matters of AI and discovery, and onto the smaller chores of the day. Jove bundled up in his outerwear alongside Eve, the two of them having volunteered to clear off the solar panels as the snow began to pick up.
"Think there's a chance that we're making a mistake by not replying to that email?" asked Eve.
Jove furrowed his brow. "Not really. It's a risk versus reward type scenario. I don't see how whatever we might get out of making contact with Abacus would outweigh the possibility that it's a trick, or that their idea of 'shepherding humanity' involves putting us all in cages."
"Aren't we already living in a cage, of sorts?" asked Eve.
They opened the outer door and were greeted by subzero temperatures and blowing snow. Jove shut his eyes and winced as the weather quite literally slapped him in the face.
"This is a cage that we have the keys for, even if the outside is inhospitable," he shouted over the wind.
The conditions were volatile, which at least gave them small gaps of visibility as the turbulence died down. Jove oriented himself toward the solar panels and started walking, slowing his pace when he noticed Eve lagging behind.
"What if Abacus really does have some kind of safe haven?" she asked. "Not just a place that's on par with what we have here, but better."
"With chocolate and all the Pokemon games and a bunch of go-karts on a track?" teased Jove. "If you start thinking like that, you're playing into the AI's game."
"It might not be a game, little brother," said Eve. "I've been doing a lot of thinking recently."
"About?"
"What's happened. This collapse and how the aftermath is going to play out. We aren't going to be able to outlast any of these AIs that seem to have taken an interest in destroying or shepherding humanity."
Jove shrugged, shielding his face as another blast of wind and snow and bits of ice whipped into him. "Maybe. Maybe not. I was kind of hoping they'd destroy each other eventually."
"Life is never that convenient, but let's pretend that happened, for the sake of argument," said Eve. "How would we get back to civilization? It's not like we could just charter a boat to South America."
He thought about it as he pulled open the door to the shed and took out the snow rakes. "We could journey to one of the other Antarctic outposts until we find one with a boat."
"And then what?" Eve took one of the snow rakes and started walking toward the solar panels, talking over her shoulder. "We set up a farm? Hope the area we're in isn't irradiated to the point of killing us by the time we reach the first harvest?"
"I don't have all the answers, Eve, but that doesn't mean that the right one is to assume a mysterious and deadly AI can be trusted to act predictably."
He did consider her perspective as he started slowly clearing the snow from the panels. The discourse surrounding AI before the world had collapsed had always contained a rather loud contingent of people who'd been convinced that, with enough computing power, humanity could simply build a super intelligent AI "god" to solve all their problems.
Would that god be a benevolent one, or more of the chaotic, old world, fear me and worship me variety?
He looked over at Eve, who looked quite sexy, despite being bundled up in her thick winter gear. She rose up on both feet to clear a distant patch of snow, and then suddenly staggered backward and fell on her ass.
"Dammit!" she hissed, grabbing her leg.
Jove sighed and went to her aid. "You really need to rest your knee if it's still hurting you."
"I have been." She blinked a couple of times, looking so distressed that it made him wince a bit. "It just hasn't been getting much better."
"You should tell Mom," he said, with a shrug. "She might have some drugs she's been holding back, or maybe could get Andromeda to help with some kind of treatment."
"If I tell Mom, she'll stop letting me ski," said Eve.
"For good reason. Skiing is probably part of why it isn't healing right."
"I've been taking a break on my own for these past few days, for your information," said Eve. "I just need to stay off it and wait a little longer, I think."
Jove sat down in the snow beside her. "How about I handle the rest of the panels and then help you get back inside?"
"That would be a super cool little brother power move."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
She grinned at him. Jove smiled back, feeling the moment shift into something fun, but dangerous. The front of her jacket had come unzipped an inch or two, and he slowly pulled it back up for her, but kept hold of the zipper.
With a small tug, he drew her closer and kissed her. Her lips were cold, but soft and perfect.
"Glad to see that you're starting to feel better," whispered Eve.
He nodded slowly, but his recovery felt surface deep. The wallet would still be on his bedside table, the photo of the child out of sight but accessible, just like the reality of the men he'd killed.
He glanced away from Eve but she pulled his face back so he was looking right at her.
"Don't shut me out," she whispered.
"I won't," he said.
He stood up and cleared the last of the panels. He let Eve chill in the snow while he put the snow rakes away and came back to lend her a shoulder to walk inside. She insisted on standing on her own two feet once they were within the entrance chamber, and something about that reminded him of how much alike they were.
She put so much effort into pretending to be okay, just like he did.