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"Meaning, the facility has no direct conduit to the internet. It has internal networks, but no point of access is connected to the outside world. And then, each area is separate from the others. So in one department, all the people in that section can communicate with each other and collaborate and whatever, but they can't access the systems and data of any other section.”

"Why?"

"Because AI is fucking scary good at escaping."

"Um. I really don’t like that word, escaping, when you’re talking about a computer program."

"Exactly. Look, this is a hot button topic. We could really get into the weeds about ethics and future-proofing and safeguards and…" I shrugged. "But it's a technology that is inevitable. The only question is what it will look like, how it will function, how we interact with it, and what we do with it, how, and why. It has the potential to change things for the better, but it also carries a lot of risk. A lot of early science fiction was consumed with the very questions we're facing right now—particularly Asimov."

Tea shook her head. "You're losing me."

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Point is, if I'm right and Thorvaldsen’s research facility up in Nome is focused on AI somehow, then he’s being very, very careful in how he develops it, in how he carries out the research, in order to mitigate the risks. It’s kind of like developing a weapon, you know? Like, if you’re designing a new…I dunno, a missile or something, you have to test it somehow, right? Which means you need safe ways to do so. Developing AI is—or at least should be—a similar process. Maybe a better analogy would be creating a virus so you can test a vaccine."

"And this is an area you're working in?" she asked.

I nodded. "Privately, yes. Theoretical models, mostly. I do mess around with existing models to some degree, but I'm more interested in what it could look like, eventually. Predictive modeling, I suppose."

"So you're not just, like, making websites or video games."

I snorted. "No. I'm not that type of coder. That’s how I cut my teeth as a kid, but…no."

She blinked at me. "I'm getting why your family wants you to just ask your uncle for a job. It seems like you're wasting your skills being stubborn." She held up her hands to forestall the objection my mouth was about to deliver. "Hey, by now you should know I respect your dedication to doing things on your own. We’ve talked about that. But sometimes, what we want has to be laid down for the greater good. It sounds to me like we need minds like yours in that field, because just from what I've heard in the…what is it…the cultural zeitgeist or whatever? There's a lot of irresponsible people out there doing stupid, dangerous shit with it."

"I don’t disagree. But in order to have the effect on the industry that I want, I need to be taken seriously in my own right. My fear is that if I go the easy route and let Uncle Xave leapfrog me to the front of the line, no one will."

She frowned. "I get that. Just for the sake of discussion, though, let me ask you this: what if by letting your uncle plug you in where the unique skills and mentality you bring to the table can be most effective, you'd skip a lot of wasted time slogging in the trenches working for fucking Best Buy, and thereby do even more good in the world?"

I groaned, face in my hands. "Uncle Xave said almost the exact thing the last time I talked to him about this.” I looked at her. "Am I being a hardheaded moron about this?"

She grinned. "Yeah, a little." Sitting beside but not particularly close to me, she reached out and shoved my knee. "But understandably so. We who grow up in the shadows of famous, successful people have a uniquely tough row to hoe, trying to find our own way without letting that shadow define us."

"My family isn't just big, as in a lot of people," I said. "We're also all a lot of very big personalities. We're loud, charismatic, wild, weird, successful, and kinda crazy. Uncle Xavier isn't the only famous person in my family."

She blinked at me. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Ever hear of Canary?"

"The folk-pop duet?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yup. That's my aunt and uncle."

She widened her eyes, making a surprised face. “Oh. Well, damn."

"I assume you know who Xave's wife is, yeah?"

She grinned. “I was avoiding mentioning that. I kind of assumed you must get a lot of weird shit from people when they find out."

I nodded vigorously. "God, do I. So there's Xavier, Aunt Low, Canaan, and Aerie. Uncle Lucian is a fairly famous macro-nature photographer. Aunt Eva is a famous artist. Uncle Bax is legendary in the UFC-MMA world. He was an underground fighter for a while too, which is how he met Eva. Um…one of those cousin-aunts that I’m related to through my great-uncle’s wife is married to Myles North."

Tea clapped a hand to her forehead. "Jesus. You aren't kidding. That's a lot of very highly visible talent and success."

"Yeah, exactly. And that's just the famous ones. Everyone has something they're amazing at. My cousin Ella is only a couple years older than me, and she owns a business. As in, a very highly successful cafe in Ketchikan. It's just…it's hard to stand out. And if the only way for me to really stand out is to climb up my famous uncle’s pant leg…"

Tea rolled her eyes. "That's kind of a disingenuous way of looking at it, Jax. It's not a handout or a hand up or cheating. Listen, I could have had my pick of berths if I'd used my family name as a lever. But I didn't. If I had stayed in the Navy for my whole life, I'd probably have made it pretty damn high all on my own. Command of my own ship, maybe. If I'd leveraged my connections, I’d have made it to a much higher rank than I am. But I didn't. I consistently lied when asked if I was related to Tom or James Tiernan because I didn’t want to get promoted because of my last name. And I know you have to know that there's a hell of a long tradition of that shit in the military, going all the way back through humanity's history with armies. As long as we've been making men generals, they've been making their incompetent kids officers, who in turn get their men killed. Once in a while, you do get someone who benefited from nepotism and did something amazing with it, but not usually. Not in the military, at least. The private sector may well be a different animal, I dunno.” She rested a hand on my knee for a long moment, which made my throat go dry. "I'm just saying. I think, in your case, you might want to think again about talking to your uncle. Maybe there's a way for you to thread the needle, you know? Accept his help in a way that advances you and lets you use your skills and talents and passion, but without the stink of nepotism."

"Maybe. Something to think about, at least."

There was a long silence, then. I spent most of it hyperfocused on the fact that Tea had left her hand on my knee, almost as if she'd forgotten it was there.