“My apologies,” the voice said with a laugh now coming from the figure itself, waving him closer. “I can’t help myself doing that. The look of astonishment amuses me every time.”
Rei hesitated, distinctly unsure of himself, but approached when he considered that this could only be part of the exam.
“Closer, boy. I don’t bite. See?” The figure vanished in a blink, only to appear inches from Rei’s right side. This time he actually yelped, which drew another chuckle from the bizarre character.
“Very well, very well. I’ll end my games now.” It stood still, waiting for Rei to recover a little before speaking again. “You did quite well on your written exam, Mr. Ward. I have you at a 98.7%. It might have been higher, but I can’t abide smudging on the papers.”
Rei smiled weakly at that, lifting a hand to show the dark stain the pen writing had left on the side of his palm in places, intending to attempt an explanation before realizing the ion shower had scrubbed him clean of the evidence. Letting his arm drop again, he struggled to find something to say.
“I… I don’t know whether to ask you who you are, or ask if you’re allowed to give me my results before the exam is complete…?”
A shifting in the blank face of the figure might have been amusement, confirmed by yet another laugh.
“Usually the former is the first question everyone asks, and the second never comes up. I confess I’m breaking protocol a bit, but you caught my interest. And—since it is my exam—I’m quite confident no one is going to try to fire me for doing so.”
Rei frowned. “… Your exam?”
“Yes,” the figure answered plainly, bobbing its head as though this was enough of an explanation. “Well… mostly. I admit there’s a small amount of input from the ISCM’s higher ups, but rarely do they provide me with any insight I’m not already processing.”
Rei understood, then.
“You’re an AI.”
He stated it as a fact, completely sure of himself. Artificial intelligence was hardly a foreign concept—the Intersystem Collective was run by such a program, after all—but he didn’t know of any other, nor fathom the military’s exclusive application of one to the CAD-Assignment Exam…
“Hmm, yyyees…” the figure answered slowly, like it wasn’t sure how exactly to word the correct response. “Technically, though I like to think that’s an understatement.” It “smiled” at him again. “To be blunt: you would likely know me most commonly as the Massive Intellect Networked Database.”
Rei gaped.
“You’re the MIND?!”
He hadn’t meant to shout, but the demand came out with such disbelief, he couldn’t help it. If that was true, this wasn’t an exclusive AI at all.
It was the exact AI that ran the ISC!
“Yes, and please don’t shout,” the AI implored of him, having brought its white hands up to where its ears would have been. “These rooms aren’t as well sound-proofed as the assessment suites from your medical exam, and I would hate to have the nice corporal who let you in here come rushing in in a panic.” It waited, watching Rei for a bit, then dropped its hands again when it was sure he wasn’t about to yell a second time. “That’s better. Yes. As you have deduced, I am the MIND, or at least an extension of it.”
“But… But how?” Rei asked, not comprehending. “How are you… Why are you here?”
The MIND chuckled at that. “My dear boy, you may have piqued my curiosity, but I can’t have you thinking that I am only here. At this very moment I am interviewing 176,592 CAD-assignment candidates across all seven systems and their collected forty-two colonized planets. That is, of course, only the part of me currently monitoring and administering the testing, which I’m pleased to say is less than a thousandth of a percent of my—”
“Oh,” Rei interrupted, and only much later would he realize he had cut across the single most powerful entity in the history of humankind. “The cheaters. In the written exam. I was wondering how they kept getting caught so fast…”
The MIND perked up, apparently not at all bothered at being butt-in on when it came to what it clearly perceived as an entertaining topic. “Oh that is fun, yes! One of the very suggestions provided by the ISCM generals I mentioned earlier. Of course, even such creative entrapment is something I could have come up with on my own given the application of enough processing power, but I’m always happy to hear a good idea from somewhere else first.” It lifted a finger to tap the side of its head. “When it comes to our future Users, neither I nor the military are looking for the kind of person willing to take the short way out of a problem, you see.”
Rei nodded. He’d guessed as much even before the exam, but certainly hadn’t deduced this level of involvement in the ploy.
“So…” he began after a moment of silence, looking about at the projection of the Arena around them. “What are we doing here? You mentioned an interview?”
The MIND clapped its hands together as though in delight. “Yes! Precisely. This, Mr. Ward, is your assignment interview!”
There was another flash and the figure vanished, appearing again some 5 yards ahead of Rei, along the edge of the Wargame field, directly in the center of what he would have guessed was the true space of the classroom they had.
“Come join me, if you would?”
With a wave, a stark white table and two chairs appeared beside the MIND, shimmering into view from the ground up. Rei did as he was told, grabbing at the back of the nearest chair and being unsurprised to find it solid. It was possible it was an actual seat being overlaid into the projection, but just as likely was it a solid-form simulation.
Either way, he pulled it out and sat down, the AI doing the same across from him.
“There are a few thing to clarify first,” it began, leaning over the table and intertwining its fingers before it like one of the lawyers on the drama shows Matron Kast would sometimes let them watch as children. “First—and this is important—under no circumstance are you to deliberately reveal, discuss, or record any part of this portion of the exam, under penalty of law, the minimum being the stripping of your CAD should I choose to assign you one after this conversation. You have already deduced the level of monitoring my systems are capable of, so I would ask you not to test me on this. Understood?”
Rei nodded, feeling a bead of sweat form on his forehead. So that was why information was so sparse on this portion of the test…
“Second—and this is a condition for you exclusively—similarly are you banned from revealing to anyone the method by which you were passed through the physical evaluation. You are the first to have been assigned such treatment, and I do not foresee the news being well-received, particularly among others who have failed that specific section of the exam.”
“The first?” Rei spoke up finally, surprised. “Ever?”
“Ever.” The MIND nodded. “Given your written score, I’m going to assume you know a bit about the archons, Mr. Ward?”
“Artificial entities,” Rei recited practically from memory. “Encountered by settlers more than two hundred years ago when humanity tried to extend into the Sirius System.”
The MIND waited, clearly anticipating more, and Rei thought he knew what the AI was waiting for.
“Our enemy on the frontier.”
“Nearly full marks,” the MIND said, leaning away from him to settle more comfortably in its chair, “but lacking one crucial detail you have no way of being aware of: the archons are also the primary source of our Combat Assistance Device technology.”
Rei felt his jaw drop, and the hint of a smirk on the mostly featureless face said this was the anticipated response.
“Yes. That tends to be the reaction your kind make when this information is shared with them. The basis of our frontline defenses. The centerpiece of our greatest form of entertainment and military training. Largely adapted from pillaged archon tech.”
“But… Isn’t that dangerous?” Rei hi
ssed, unable to keep himself from questioning the sense of this. “The archons are a networked being. You’re not… afraid of that?”
It was a lot to take in—a lot—but it wasn’t wholly shocking. While the public information about Devices claimed they were merely a complex technology invented by the military and being constantly improved on, there were more than a few rumors circulating the feeds that CADs were too far beyond anything else humanity had created for itself.
“If you’re asking whether I’m concerned that the archon hive-system is capable of tapping into our Devices, therefore either spying on us or using them or their Users to enemy advantage… No. I am not.” The MIND smoothly waved the question away as though it were a trivial matter. “I said CAD technology was largely adapted from archon machinations, not entirely. Along with a thousand of mankind’s brightest minds over some centuries, yours truly has seen to that. Our Users are safe, and our Devices are not ‘hackable’, as you would put it.”
The assurance made Rei feel a little better, but it still unsettled him.
“My point in telling you all this—” the MIND pressed on before he could question anything else “—is not to concern you about the nuances of CAD implementation, but to make you understand why you have been given a rather unique privilege, at least as of this moment.” The AI leaned forward again. “Archons adapt. Did you know that?”
Rei nodded. “Yes. It’s the reason why Users are so important. CAD evolution and the various Types allow mankind to maintain a foothold in the war. Otherwise we would be overrun by the enemy’s transient nature.”
“All true, but with one caveat: archons adapt faster than Users should be able to respond to.”
Rei blinked, not understanding. If that were true, then the war that had raged for over a century at the edges of the ISC should have reached the systems a long time ago…
Then what the MIND had actually said registered.
“…Should? They adapt faster than we should be able to respond to?”
The MIND smiled. “I’m not one to stutter, Mr. Ward. Now… With that in mind—and the knowledge I’ve otherwise imparted on you—I would like you to tell me what it is, exactly, that keeps our fine planets from being overrun in a matter of years.”
The request hung in the air for a moment, and Rei realized abruptly that—though it hadn’t been phrased as a question—the third part of the exam was already underway. Allowing himself a breath, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, dropping his gaze to the sheen of the table’s surface as he thought.
At a glance there was no good reason. If the archons could adapt faster than Users could train, evolve their CADs, and be deployed, logic dictated that the war would have been over a long, long time ago, with mankind on the losing side. But that wasn’t the case. In fact, while humanity hadn’t made great progress in the last decades, it was generally understood knowledge that the war effort was going well, with the archons steadily being pushed deeper and deeper into space. Sirius had actually been colonized some 50 years after the start of the war, having been claimed as the seventh of the ISC’s galaxies, and thrived.
Stranger still… There were the SCTs…
The Simulated Combat Tournaments were the military’s sole source of revenue, which wasn’t surprising given the popularity of the events. The slower-than-light orbital ship races still managed to hold a measure of viewership on the feeds, but the SCTs were watched some 68% of the ISC populace with access to NOEDs or pads. They were the reason the military had thousands of schools across the different systems, mostly for training in various careers on the frontline, but hundreds still designed exclusively for the CAD-Users.
But… The SCTs were also the reason combat wasn’t a requirement for Users who managed any decent kind of reputation in even just the collegiate tournament circuits…
That was where Rei found himself tripping up as he considered the MIND’s request. It was a fact that popular Users had a massive impact on military recruitment and credit intake, but around one in five combatants were never required to head to the front lines, to see live combat, and those one in five were typically the best Users the Systems had to offer. Some of them—like the famed A-Type user Valera Dent, the Iron Bishop—had chosen to fight after retirement, but most ran the course of the circuits until they fell out of favor or stepped away on their own terms.
For the strongest 20% of the military’s most effective measure against the archons to be allowed not to take part in active—
And then it clicked.
“They are taking part.” Rei said the words aloud, and the MIND—who had somehow been playing an accurate game of thumb-wrestling with itself—looked up expectantly.
“Oh-ho…” the AI started. “It sounds like you’ve come to an interesting conclusion…”
Rei didn’t speak for a moment more, trying to ensure he had the right words for his explanation. At last, he managed what he thought was a fair articulation of his assessment.
“I was struggling to understand why—if the archons adapt at a rate faster than we can deploy—one in five CAD-Users are allowed to exclusively participate in the tournament circuits. No live combat. Just entertainment. Then I realized: it’s not just entertainment, is it? I mean obviously it assists with recruitment and military funding—everyone knows that—but there’s more to it, isn’t there?” Rei narrowed his eyes at the MIND, wondering if he had deduced correctly. “The fighting… The evolution of Devices built from archon tech, and the way Users adapt to each other and problem-solve both in combat and out of it…” He chewed on his final words a moment. “We—you’re—learning, aren’t you?”
For several seconds the AI stared at him—or managed the best equivalent to staring it could, given the figure had no eyes. Whether Rei had actually challenged this offshoot of the system enough to delay its process, or the MIND was just pausing for emphasis, he couldn’t guess.
Finally, the AI sat up abruptly straight clapping its hands in delight.
“Bravo!” it exclaimed, sounding genuinely thrilled. “I’ve asked that question 12,176 times in the last hour, and no one has come up with that answer quite as substantially.” The figure settled, growing almost sober. “Indeed, I am learning, though you had it right the first time. We are learning. User data has been an essential part of the ISCM’s measures against the enemy, and that information is nearly as valuable coming from battles between Users—as well as their growth over time—as the intelligence we gather from live combat. Couple that with the recruitment and finance advantages you mentioned, and you have your answer as to why we have not been overrun by the archons.” The AI cocked its head. “Now… Can you explain to me why, then, I chose to overrule your physical assessment rejection by Sergeant Gregor Valenti?”
Rei didn’t look away from the strange white face this time, the answer coming much more easily now. “You need variables.”
The MIND nodded slowly. “Precisely. And hence my interest in you, Mr. Ward.” The figure leaned forward again, and for once Rei got the impression the action was actually inadvertent, as though the AI couldn’t help itself from peering at him more closely. “I don’t think I will surprise you when I say that you have nearly all the essentials required in the making of an excellent CAD-User. Your gathered history tells me you’ve spent the last decade of an impressively short life striving to that goal, and I am pleased to say you have achieved it. It… and much more.” The white face was yet closer, and Rei realized the MIND’s neck was extending so it could approach even after its “body” could no longer bend further over the table. “You are—for lack of a more modest term—a rather perfect specimen of ‘outside the norm’ when it comes to typical User candidates, particularly top-notch ones such as your friend ‘Viv’.” It smiled a little as Rei blinked in surprise at the name, but made no other commentary on the subject. Instead, it brought one hand up to point at Rei’s arm and the black sleeve that covered his scarred skin once more. �
��Your physical condition is—if anything—an opportunity. A chance to try something new.”
“Put more simply: you want me to be your guinea pig.”
There was no malice in Rei’s voice as he said it, nor did he feel any. He just didn’t want the matter to be beat around.
Instantly the MIND retracted, pulling back into its original form and crossing one leg over the other as it draped a casual arm across the back of its chair. “Does that bother you?”
“Does it mean I’d be assigned a CAD?”
The MIND’s formless face scrutinized him for a moment more.
Then it nodded. “Most certainly.”
“Then no. It doesn’t bother me.
The MIND smiled then, in truth, the formless surface of its face shifting into something uncomfortable, like it was going to very much enjoy seeing where the world went after that moment.
“Excellent. Now, then, with that matter settled… I would like to start querying as to the nature of your diagnosis, and its relevance in your abandonment by your parents…”
CHAPTER 6
By the time Viv found him—seated once more at the number 221 desk in the main floor of the combat gym—a good hour had passed, and Rei had managed to regain a little bit of his composure. He still trembled if he didn’t consciously focus on keeping his hands steady, but he was no longer sweating, and most of the anger, fear, and nervousness had faded away. He jumped as the chair at his right was pulled out, feeling his heart skip a beat when Viv eased down beside him, looking about as shaken as he felt.
“So… How about that third part, huh?” she asked weakly, looking nowhere but straight ahead, her blue eyes a little puffy. Rei, deciding imitating her was for the best, nodded slowly, but said nothing more. For almost a minute they sat in silence, two of only a half-dozen applicants to have completed the exam, but eventually he decided talking—about anything—was better than dwelling on the psychologic upheaval he was sure the MIND had put them all through.
Iron Prince: A Progression Sci-Fi Epic (Warformed: Stormweaver Book 1) Page 6