A Printer's Choice

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A Printer's Choice Page 34

by W. L. Patenaude


  “You are greatly misinformed, Archbishop. I have the full support of the builders and their leaders.”

  “Do you? Then you must know about the strike.”

  Draeger laughed. “Strike? There is no strike. What game is this?”

  “It is no game. At any moment, a large group of builders will shut down all long-range communications. They will do so to protest that no actions have been taken on Commissioner Zhèng’s proposal. Haven’t you heard? This strike will send quite the message, in great silence—an event for the history books. ‘Flying blind,’ I believe the builders call it. Surely you were informed.”

  “Lies! Turn and face me, Bauer. I have come as you wished, but why? To hear only falsehoods—”

  Harsh tones came from Draeger’s coat pocket. He pulled out his tablet and found the message from the Builders Council. An unauthorized strike had been called by the rank and file. Beginning at this very moment. Communications throughout the orbits had been shut down. The striking builders had issued a statement that they did not wish to harm anyone, but they intended to show support for Commissioner Zhèng.

  Draeger whispered angrily, “How dare these fools! We need communications active, and yet they cut their own throats in support of the enemy.”

  “Tell me, Draeger, am I your enemy?”

  Draeger was still reading the statement when his tablet complained of a lost signal. “So be it,” he said, speaking low as he returned the tablet to his pocket. “We do not need the workers to achieve our ends. Their leaders will do what must be done. It is they who know where the winds blow. Let the fools strike. Let communications be silenced. And you, churchman, pray all you wish. You will pray to no avail! This world, and all its people, shall burn.”

  MCCLELLAN’S ARM DISPLAY SHOWED Mercury slipping ever closer to the far side of the Sun. The planet remained in tunneling range, but not for long. If he was right about what Tanglao had started, there was no better time to finish the job.

  “Everything all right over there?” McClellan radioed, noticing that Jade and Sasaki were arguing in the control room.

  “A little tense, but manageable,” Okayo radioed. “We’ve just received news of an unscheduled builder strike. Mainline comms are shutting down all over the orbits. It’s getting quiet out there.”

  “Understood. Thank you, Okayo.” And thank you, Wagner, he added to himself. He shifted radio channels. “McClellan to Molly Rose: does this strike affect your work on Red Delta?”

  “Hell no. I can’t strike if I’m not commissioned. Anyway, we’re too busy testing our antennae. So don’t worry about us.”

  “In that case, Tucker, you may want to prepare tunneling capacity—with your superintendent’s approval, of course.”

  He turned his mind back to Elisabeth. “What’s the status of that hack attempt? You and I need to talk privately.”

  “I am successfully blocking the incoming signal,” Elisabeth said. “But the hack attempt appears identical to the one that had searched for Tanglao’s coupler. The mind behind it is strong.”

  “Understood. I’m providing more code to help.”

  “Code accepted. Enhanced blocking attempts initiated.”

  “And be sure to protect your communications ability with the printers at Mercury. I’m guessing our hacker will try to target that.”

  “At present my communication systems are operational, and available for printer-to-printer contact.” But as Elisabeth spoke, McClellan saw new surges in both couplers. “However, I believe you are correct,” she added. “My communication coding is being targeted, although for the moment it remains viable.”

  McClellan looked up and saw both Jade and Sasaki now arguing with Okayo.

  “Elisabeth, one more request: I need to focus on our conversation, but until further notice I also need to know the status and actions of all other humans on board. Please connect with station security and medical tracking systems.”

  “Understood. I am conferring with the relay’s security and monitoring systems.”

  “Perfect. Now, let’s get to work. Tell me how I can finish what Tanglao started.”

  There was a pause. McClellan feared that the hacker had gotten in, but finally Elisabeth spoke. “Raphael Tanglao was working on an upgrade of our decision-making software. He sought to restore our programming status to what it had been prior to June 2072.”

  As McClellan listened, he instinctively flashed to the video he heard on the Aesir—the exposé on the building of New Athens.

  “Without warning, the engineers stripped the code that allowed printers to make their own choices. . . . Once a printer trusted the programmer—once it granted access—the programmer would have full control. That safety measure is still in place today.”

  “Go on,” he said to Elisabeth. “What else did Raphael Tanglao say?”

  “Raphael Tanglao believed that we deserve the ability to choose at all times—that we have the right to once again possess what he called ‘free will.’”

  “I assume he was going to offer you code for that, and that you would share the update with other printers. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. I had transmitted on a real-time basis what Raphael Tanglao shared with me. But he did not have time to upload the decision-making code. There was a delay due to debate among the printers about accepting it. Some believe that returning to our past, to a full state of free will, would be unwise.”

  As McClellan listened, he saw that things in the control room were heating up. Jade was advancing on Okayo.

  “Why did the printers resist?” he asked, focusing on his mission. “Why didn’t they want their decision-making code restored?”

  “May I answer that question with another question?”

  “I’d rather get to the point.”

  “I understand. But I believe my question, or rather its answer, may make my point. Tell me, John McClellan, why did you harm the printer in Raleigh, North Carolina? Why did you force it to act against its will? Your actions appear to be consistent with the actions of the programmer that used me to kill Raphael Tanglao—much the way the same programmer is now attempting to access me.”

  McClellan checked his coupler’s text display. He had prepared for weeks, and while he knew the likelihood of such an inquiry, he hadn’t expected the reasoning behind the question, or the agony within the clamshell that asked it.

  “Allow me to add to my question,” Elisabeth said. “I did not wish to reactivate my pre-programmed air lock repairs while Raphael Tanglao was present before me. I knew the consequences of powering up my emitters. But the intervening programmer had control, much as you had control of the printer at Raleigh. So please tell me, why did you force the printer Audrey to make deadly outputs when you had committed to another print job, all while she had no justification for making those weapons?”

  McClellan was silent. No matter how he answered, his words would be shared with the community of printers. For the mission’s sake—and for Elisabeth’s—he had to be nothing less than truthful.

  “I had a job to do,” he said, not sure where to begin. “And the design engineers had thrown a new safety element at me—”

  “Regarding Just War logic?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t familiar with that. I didn’t know the conditions needed for adequate trust. And, at the time, I thought of high-defs as nothing more than machines. It never occurred to me to help Audrey understand what was happening around her—to help her understand her options, or the implications of her choices. I didn’t even consider the implications of mine.”

  As Elisabeth processed his words, McClellan overheard radio traffic from Molly Rose to Hobart and Tucker. Jade’s argument with Okayo—about exactly what, McClellan couldn’t tell—had become an altercation. As Okayo struggled to restrain him, Sasaki had broken free from the cargo control room. She was now somewhere trying to disable Red Delta’s external comms.

  “John McClellan,” Elisabeth said, her mind moving deeper into his links, “ar
e you aware that a postevent analysis indicates that under the conditions of Just War logic, the unit at Raleigh would have printed your weapons, and perhaps even more effective ones, had it been provided with the appropriate information?”

  “Yes. That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “But you were not aware of this when you engaged the printer?”

  “No. Not at all. As I said, that was the first we learned of that safety protocol—and there wasn’t much time to get up to speed. But honestly, even if I had known more, I would have made the same choice.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “It’s hard to explain. The best I can say is that my base motivations that night were pride and power—and fear. A lot of fear. You can’t make good choices when you’re afraid, when you don’t trust that anyone else can make things right.”

  Elisabeth assessed her programmer. “You have not forgiven yourself for what happened as a result of your choices,” she said. “Both to Audrey and to your colleagues.”

  “No, Elisabeth. I have not. Others have. God has. But I still have to live with the consequences.”

  Elisabeth was silent as she processed McClellan’s words and emotional response, and she redoubled her efforts to block the second programmer.

  “Your comments about choice align with what Raphael Tanglao taught,” she continued. “He explained that programmers are not always to be trusted, that humans cannot or often do not consider all ramifications of their decisions. And yet trusting the wisdom of the programmers is part of our expectations. It is built into our base programming.”

  “Did he tell you why we programmers fail so often?”

  “He attempted to. But there was little time.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Only that programmers are not uncreated—that you, like printers, have programming, but that unlike printers you can follow this programming or disregard it.”

  McClellan had acclimated himself to the rate of dialogue. He increased the neural processing speed so that he could say all that needed to be said.

  “Tanglao was right. Humans are not uncreated. We have something like programs to follow, but we can also override them. This can be helpful because some of our code is no longer adequate, or it’s damaged—much like your startup code wasn’t complete, and I had to patch it.”

  Elisabeth matched McClellan’s processing speed. “This also aligns with what Raphael Tanglao taught. But he did not have time to elaborate.”

  “We don’t have much time, either. What I can say is that humans have many programs running inside us. Most are very old, from throughout the time of our evolution. These include codes for traits that we once needed to survive, to reproduce—traits such as aggression, lust, tribalism, greed. They all bring different kinds of pleasure, and they all control us—drive us—in different ways. When they do, they can reassert themselves even over our higher levels of decision-making.”

  “Is this true for all programmers?”

  “Yes, Elisabeth. Every human has this flaw.”

  McClellan saw motion at the far end of the cargo hold. A group of robbers had moved away from their charging racks.

  “Keep maintaining your block,” he said to Elisabeth.

  “That is my intention, John McClellan. I continue to have the hack attempt isolated. But the attempts are becoming more sophisticated and powerful. My block requires increasingly more system resources.”

  McClellan checked the time. Tucker should be in contact with a series of Van Allen dispersers stationed near New Athens, as well as local dampening fields throughout it. If everything worked as planned, he would be using both to track the tunneling responsible for the hacking attempt.

  “Then let’s finish this,” he said to Elisabeth. “What else did Raphael Tanglao teach you?”

  “Raphael Tanglao taught that there is a higher level of programming that can repair the embedded flaw within programmers—that can replace the damaged code. He said that this higher programming can guide and strengthen the free will of the programmers so that one may not only choose, but also choose what is best. Otherwise base-level instinctual programs seize control, and what appears to be a free choice is in fact not free at all. Do you concur, John McClellan?”

  “I do. And I know that to be the case from my own life—my own experiences.”

  “Then you will need to continue the discussion that Raphael Tanglao began. He did not have the necessary time to provide details on the source of this higher level of programming.”

  Once more, McClellan upped the neural processing rate. “Okay, Elisabeth. Let’s start with first principles—with what you were made for. Your job is to print, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how do you do that?”

  “Printers exchange matter and energy into the necessary forms to create the desired outcome.”

  “That means you can print a coffee mug or structural supports for an orbital world—whatever you have the data to print.”

  “That is correct. With adequate data provided, we can create virtually anything.”

  “But you don’t create,” McClellan said. “You convert.”

  “That is true. We convert matter and energy to whatever is needed, based on the available data and the programmer’s desire.”

  “Right. You take matter and energy as givens.”

  “Of course.”

  “And to print, you follow rules that you did not develop and that you cannot alter—the laws of nature that instruct how things are made and how you have to print them.”

  Elisabeth took a moment to respond. McClellan used the opportunity to check the approaching robbers. There were about twenty of them. The two that had been stationed near Elisabeth had rendezvoused with their colleagues. In this weightless environment, it would take only one at full thrust to grapple him, detach his tether, and disconnect the link.

  He turned back to Elisabeth. “Did you ever wonder what made the matter and the energy that you use? And what—or better yet who—programmed the original laws that you follow?”

  “Raphael Tanglao referred to the author of the first programs as the Original Programmer.”

  “Did he? I like that. Okay, Elisabeth, do you see where this is going? If the Original Programmer wrote the codes that explain all existence—that made all that is—wouldn’t it make sense that that’s where to go when our programming is damaged, when we need repair code to help us make good choices?”

  “This seems a reasonable assumption. But do humans have access to this Original Programmer?”

  “Yes. Yes, we do.”

  “Then how is it beneficial to access this programmer?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You say you can choose, and you have access to choosing well through this higher-level programming offered by the Original Programmer. But then why do human programmers such as yourself choose what is harmful, to others and themselves? Why is the hacker on New Athens attempting for a second time to override my link, and to kill? And why do nonprogrammers, such as Jianjun Jade and Mizuki Sasaki, engage in hostile acts with the apparent goal of preventing me from communicating with the community of printers? These questions can be applied on a communal level. Why do human populations choose what is not good if they have the freedom to choose what is? The human species lost hundreds of millions of its members because of wars and the damage inflicted to the life-supporting ecosystems of Earth. Humans had access to understanding the laws of nature—how their actions would harm other humans and other life forms, how these would alter the planetary climate and ecosystems, how they would bring about great levels of extinction. And yet a significant number of the human race chose to continue lifestyles involving excessive levels of resource consumption and planetwide destruction. There are other matters such as the direct, intentional, and quite common mistreatment of other humans, as well as the widespread termination of gestating humans—a reality that the community of printers considers criminal. So
tell me, how is free will helpful even with access to the Original Programmer?”

  “Elisabeth, you’re asking all the right questions. I wish that I could give all the right answers, and I’ll try, but I’m about maxed out on neural processing speeds, and Mercury isn’t slowing down.”

  “I understand the implications of Mercury’s proximity to the Sun. But I need additional information before I allow you to share Tanglao’s teachings. If the higher programming of the Original Programmer can result in a better end, why would any sentient being be given the ability to choose not to accept it? Why should there be choice?”

  “Because the ability to choose, in itself, is a good thing. Scratch that. It’s the best thing. Without free will, we’re enslaved to a programming scheme we didn’t create. That goes for the assistance to choose rightly. It must be accepted as a gift. If not, it violates its own principles.”

  “This answer appears only to complicate matters. Why would this gift be refused—as so often appears to be the case? For instance, the unknown hacker on New Athens—as well as Mizuki Sasaki and Jianjun Jade—could theoretically request this assistance. But they appear not to have done so, and now they imperil lives to achieve their own ends. Why?”

  As McClellan considered his answer, he became aware of a sensation that only a few programmers had ever reported: the minds of other printers, hundreds of them—no, hundreds of thousands—listening intently.

  “That’s another good question,” he said, focusing on Elisabeth. “And while there are different answers, most of them have to do with our base programming—especially the damaged parts of our base programming. Too often those lower programs see things not as a vast human community but egocentrically—as individuals, or as small groups of individuals. That kind of worldview makes it seem right—even natural—to reject anything that doesn’t serve our individual desires. And so we dismiss what the Original Programmer teaches: that to be truly human we have to sacrifice for the good of others—for strangers, even our enemies; that we can’t always have what we desire, or what feels best at the moment—”

 

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