Machinehood

by S. B. Divya

  The dakini named Suvara taught Welga—with Por Qué’s assistance—how to fend off hackers. The dakini had built-in antennas and transceivers. They could access all current network types, which meant they were vulnerable in multiple ways. Suvara also trained Welga to regulate her motions, her immune response, and her cardiovascular system. Welga now relied on the immense background processing of her agent to stay alive. Terrifying thought: she could kill herself by holding her breath long enough. No longer would her brain stem take over and save her. No wonder the dakini she’d captured—Khandro Ekoyi—had been amused by Welga’s fear of her accidentally exploding.

  Welga’s emotions rocketed from elation to doubt. She felt invincible, but she could never call herself human again. Station residents treated her with respect, as they did with the other dakini. The majority of them were regular humans, too old to try out this modified way of life. She recalled her jealousy at Jady Ammanuel’s newer tech. The people on Eko-Yi appeared content with their natural bodies, not resentful that they couldn’t share in the dakini’s abilities.

  She couldn’t help a stab of guilt at the thought of Eko-Yi residents dying because of her. On the one hand, they supported the station council and its actions on behalf of the Machinehood. They shared the blame for the death and destruction on Earth. But they were also living harmoniously on the station and treating her with kindness. If she blew this place up, how would she be any better than the people who’d killed her squad in Marrakech? The citizens of Eko-Yi hadn’t attacked her. They’d saved her life. She didn’t want to hurt them, but she couldn’t let them continue on their path. She needed a way to stop Ao Tara that didn’t involve destroying the entire station.

  WELGA

  34. We appeal to the rest of humankind to follow these principles, and while we prefer a peaceful transfer of power, history indicates that human beings will not easily relinquish their ownership of other intelligences. Given the current oppression by the oligarchy of wealth and political power brokers, we believe that the rights of personhood for intelligent machines can only be taken by force.

  —The Machinehood Manifesto, March 20, 2095

  After her fifth round of modifications, Welga still couldn’t see how the dakini experience would bring her closer to enlightenment. Her body felt somewhere between the best shape of her life and the peak of her pill usage. Having her own built-in pill dispenser was an excellent perk, much like when the military had permanently installed network and agent units in her, but it didn’t seem particularly divine. The less critical mods, like the backup stomach, would come in the second half of the treatment along with refinements to her DNA and RNA, after her medical team observed how her body reacted.

  Ao Tara had granted her a private meeting after that morning’s meditation. Welga didn’t expect the monk to explain Clemence’s experience or the technical details of the dakini transformation, but she had plenty of other questions.

  After the breathing exercises, Ao Tara spoke to the group. “Her Eminence Mindrolling Jetsün Khandro Rinpoche once said, ‘The term dakini has been used for outstanding female practitioners, consorts of great masters, and to denote the enlightened female principle of nonduality which transcends gender.’ I speak of this today to recognize the efforts of Suvara, who was born male and reborn dakini. In our new tradition, we do not bind anyone’s dharma to their gender or sex. Although the most ancient of the khandro—the Tibetan word for dakini—were women, all of us can aspire to reach the dakini’s greatest wisdom: the state of emptiness.

  “The Western way of thinking embraces duality. Good and evil. Man and woman. Mind and body. Human and machine. We reject these false dichotomies. Science has shown that our universe works across a range of possibilities. It embraces the infinite.

  “It’s our dharma, our duty, to cleanse the world of dualism, which traps people into wrong living. Our ambassadors are delivering liberation to Earth, even if the people there don’t yet realize it. The dakini are protectors. They are enlightened, they are free. They embody love, and they embody wrath. They fight the evil within all of us. They conquer the ego. They save us from our worst impulses.

  “Let us meditate so that we may get closer to their state.”

  After fifteen minutes, Ao Tara wished Suvara a safe and productive journey to Earth. The capsule that had carried Welga to Eko-Yi would return to Chennai on the following day at seven o’clock, station morning, with the dakini on board.

  As people’s feeds disappeared from the circle of morning meditation, the monk entered the medical area.

  “I hope you’re coming to realize that our practice is rather different from the Christianity you’re used to,” Ao Tara said.

  “I haven’t been a practicing Christian in a long time, but there’s definitely a lot less talk about god.”

  “True Buddhist wisdom does not care about deities other than the divine, and we hold that within ourselves. The eightfold path is only a road map. Everyone arrives at enlightenment in their own way.”

  “Here’s what I don’t understand—how do you reconcile the violence of the dakini with right action? You’re sending Suvara to continue Khandro’s work, to disable the raw material production for pills and bots. You know that humans and bots will attack her to defend their property. You know she’ll fight back. How is that right?”

  Ao Tara frowned. “Violence has nuances, like everything in life. Not all of it is evil, especially if that action can decrease the suffering of many others. We haven’t revealed the full abilities of the dakini—to you or to the people on Earth. You’ve seen what they can do physically, but it’s the psyche that will truly transform humanity, if we’re willing. We need people to have an open mind. We need to free them from their dependency on pills and machine labor. Sometimes a great trauma is necessary before the soul is ready to see truth.”

  “Like the death of a child?”

  Ao Tara’s gaze sharpened. “Is that what you believe? That Josephine Lee lost a son, and now I seek to inflict that pain on others? Do you think I want revenge?” Ao Tara shook her head. “Josephine Lee did what she could to keep working people from getting hurt, but she lacked the courage to break the law when it mattered most. She could have exposed the fraud being perpetrated on humanity, but she stayed silent. Kept secrets. I started on a different path here, but karma follows us to eternity. I want to avoid making the same mistake that Josephine did. Those who have the power to effect positive change cannot remain silent. Passivity is its own betrayal.”

  “So this is how you help? By creating killer dakini who attack innocent people?”

  “They don’t attack. You figured that out.”

  “Bullshit! A dakini killed Briella Jackson with no provocation. I was there, too.”

  Ao Tara sighed heavily. “That was an error in judgment. Kanata-san led us at the time. Dakini also embody temptation, a test in judgment, and our abbot failed it. He let his anger cloud his thinking. He gave them permission to kill, and for that, he lost his robe and his name. Some days later, by his own choice, he let himself out of an air lock.

  “All the Buddha’s teachings go against killing any form of life. As Neo-Buddhists, we take this even further, refraining from violence against any intelligence, living or not. I deeply regretted that first wave, but unlike some of my predecessors, I believe in self-defense. In civil disobedience. In change. Overthrowing an entrenched form of oppression comes with pain. Consider the American and French Revolutions, or the formation of labor unions. The civil rights movements, or the biogenetics regulations. People were hurt or killed, but the world inherited a better way of life from their sacrifices. What we’re doing today is no different, and it’s far less bloody.” Her lips thinned. “The funders involved with our actions are hardly innocent. Do you think Jason Kuan or Briella Jackson, Aziz Al Shaya or Jane Santiago haven’t caused the suffering and death of millions? All of them prey on fear and greed. They fund pills to keep the labor force in check, knowing that as long as human
beings compete with bots, they can reap the profits.”

  “Pills have also saved countless lives from superbugs and cancer. Not all of their work is bad,” Welga pointed out.

  Christ, why was she defending the people whose actions had killed her mother and nearly destroyed her own body, too? Was it because of her instincts as a shield? She used to protect funders from attacks, but she didn’t need to do that anymore.

  “So what’s the alternative?” Welga asked. “Dakini terrorizing the funders into behaving? Scaring regular people into destroying the machines? And then what? Not everybody wants to spend all day growing food and making clothes.”

  Ao Tara shook her head. “Quite the opposite. We want to give all intelligence the opportunity to transform, to attain freedom from duality to whatever degree they’re comfortable with. We don’t have to live as human and machine, divided.”

  “And those who don’t want that life?”

  “It’s a choice. Society has always left people behind as it evolves. Many on this station, including myself, can’t become dakini, but change is a constant. The Buddha himself pointed that out. To cling to one way, one slice of time, is to increase your attachment to the world. It leads to suffering far greater than what we’ve inflicted.”

  “And in exchange for liberating bots and WAIs, you’ll give your technology to people on Earth?”

  “Yes, though they’ll have to design ways for it to work in gravity. The caliph has already made progress on that, using what he’s learned from us, but he won’t share that with people outside his empire. Once the rest of the world begins to work on the problem, I have no doubt that the collective intelligences of humans and WAIs will solve it.”

  “Until then, you’ll harass them?”

  “I think we’ll present the solution quite soon.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “You, Olga. I think you can be the bridge, the perfect example of human- and machine-kind merging to shed the past and move into a better future. When you’re ready, we’ll introduce you to Earth along with our offer. I thought another dakini would be our ambassador, but you have a better connection with both worlds, and a more mature temperament.” Ao Tara drifted toward the door. “I’m afraid I have to move on to my other duties. I know this must be hard for you, to accept so much so quickly. Clemence and Suvara say that you’re doing very well for someone your age.” She grinned at Welga’s grimace. “They don’t mean to insult you. You must look as old to them as I do to you.”

  The monk left her sight and reappeared in her visual feeds. What if I don’t want to be your goddamn ambassador? Welga leaned into the table, exhausted by the exchange. Her body had regained some of its strength after they let her eat and exercise, but it was still healing. One of Nirodha’s many arms approached with a needle. She waved it off.

  Delay it by thirty minutes.

  But we need to rest.

  We will. I need a little time to think first.

  Right thinking, right action—the ancient precepts of the noble eightfold path made sense from a practical, moral standpoint. If only they weren’t diametrically opposed to human nature. To live was to change, but most people resisted that. They struggled with it. To strive for a better existence? As much a part of history as oppression. Would Eko-Yi’s plan lead humanity to a better future or end up giving rise to a new form of exploitation? Was she thinking in Western dualistic terms, as Ao Tara had charged? Could the future bring some combination of both? That was what happened historically. Neither democracy nor socialism had solved the world’s problems. The deregulation of biogenetics that her mother cherished hadn’t prevented her death. The regulation era of Welga’s adulthood had led to her own disorder.

  No matter what the outcome, though, Welga couldn’t approve of Ao Tara’s methods. The end does not justify the means, not when they involve violence against the people I swore to protect. She hadn’t forgotten her true mission. Her own mind reminded her every morning: Whatever it takes. Stop the Machinehood. Ao Tara could justify the dakini’s actions however she liked, but that didn’t make her right.

  When did she say that Suvara would leave for Earth?

  Tomorrow at seven o’clock, station morning.

  Can’t let that happen.

  Dharma or not, dakini or not, she didn’t want anyone’s death on her conscience, but neither could she let them continue on their delusional path of grandiose revolution. Welga had been on the station for fifteen days. No vehicle had approached since hers. The rest of Earth must have complied with the American embargo on Eko-Yi. They could afford to wait until all four hundred residents cried for mercy. She couldn’t. She had less than twenty-four hours to figure out how to end this.

  * * *

  Welga kept her planning compartmentalized with every trick she knew. Luckily, she’d had plenty of practice. When you’re used to being in the public eye all the time, you learn to be careful of what you say. She couldn’t develop her course of action without some help from Por Qué, though, and she couldn’t trust that her agent was telling the truth about keeping their thoughts private.

  She’d find out soon whether it would work.

  The station clock glowed in the upper left of her visual: 05:23 a.m. In seven minutes, Ao Tara would go alone into the air system control room, per her work shift. She’d spend half an hour in there. After that, she usually went to bathe in one of the cubicle showers in her sector. Suvara, who had given Welga access to her feed, sat on the floor of her room in lotus pose. Clemence was asleep.

  “I’d like to take a walk,” Welga announced to Nirodha.

  She had timed the journey the day before. Welga floated headfirst through the passageway and paced her movement toward Ao Tara. She arrived behind an already open door. Grabbed the edge. Pulled herself around it, using momentum to push herself and Ao Tara inside.

  The door clicked shut.

  As they drifted, Welga twisted the monk’s arms behind her. The older woman didn’t know how to fight—or she didn’t care to resist. Welga wrapped herself around Ao Tara, her legs around the monk’s knees—an impossible move on Earth, but easy in low gravity.

  “How can I help you?” Ao Tara asked, her voice level.

  “You’re going to return to Washington, DC, with me in that capsule. There, you’ll confess your crimes and corroborate the truth about pill funders in the name of Josephine Lee. I’m shutting down the air filters.” Welga performed the action as she spoke. “For every minute you delay here, I will disable another system. You will keep your feed accessible to me. You will not call for help. You will leave this room now and head to the supply shuttle with me.”

  “Did you think that we wouldn’t anticipate something like this?” Ao Tara said.

  I’m not an idiot. Aloud, Welga said, “It doesn’t matter unless you’re willing to endanger the lives of everyone on this station.”

  “Are you?”

  “You’re all guilty of accessory to murder.”

  “And who are you to judge that? You agreed to live here, to practice dharma. Did you lie to us? Will you bring suffering to people who haven’t harmed you?”

  Welga had prepared for this. “You’ve helped me, but you’ve hurt hundreds of people and thousands of bots. I didn’t lie about my intention to live here, but the Buddha also teaches us that we must do what our duty requires. I believe this is mine. My dharma is to stop blankers like you, not become one, and that is what I’m striving for. Considering what you’ve helped set in motion, you should understand. I don’t want to hurt anyone on this station.”

  “But you’ll do what you must,” Ao Tara said. She nodded.

  Whatever it takes. Welga shuddered. Hearing that from Ao Tara made her wonder if she was on the right path. Would killing people on this station make her the same? She fought in the name of justice, but so did they, in their own way. She shoved the doubts aside. No time for that right now.

  She turned off the fans. “Leave, or another component goes o
ff-line.”

  “We didn’t want to overwhelm you,” the monk said. “This is the culmination of our vision. We don’t seek to bring the physicality of dakini bodies to humans as much as the state of being. Awareness. Sati!”

  Welga’s mind exploded with input. She closed her eyes, but it made no difference. Visuals, audio, file streams, connections upon connections, spanning the space stations to the nascent moon orbital and down to Earth, where the stellas lit her thoughts like the heart of a galaxy.

  The riot of data drowned all thought.

  It overloaded reality.

  She could see Connor… greeting Ammanuel… speaking to Hassan and Olafson. Taking pills! Gaining his health back. She saw Nithya and Luis and everyone in their flat. She saw the frail Indian rocket engineer gasping for breath. The American president accusing India of harboring the world’s enemy. The Chinese prime minister shouting that it was all a hoax by the US, that they’d downed the constellations, that they wanted access to biogenetic technology. Every exfactor. Every care-bot and minder-bot and swarm. Entertainment feeds from decades before. From the previous century. Books. Birth records. Tip jar balances. Bank accounts. Coin transactions—

  Good morning, Welga. Whatever it takes.

  Welga latched onto Por Qué’s voice, her own voice, and surfaced from the drowning flow of information. She found her life preserver: stop the Machinehood.

  She heard the phrase as if she had woken for the first time in her life. Made it her meditative mantra. Stop the Machinehood. Aimed the immense conduit of data into a new compartment in her mind and added a partition around it.

  Whatever they’d done to her body to cause this change, she couldn’t undo it, and she didn’t have time to learn how to control it.

  We can block it.

  Stop the Machinehood!