“Voice recordings?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure how or why; comm systems don’t automatically record conversations unless they’re asked to, and Mr. Fellsbach didn’t ask.”
“Okay,” said Valery, suddenly reinvigorated at the possibilities hiding inside the Starlight system. “Pull them up.”
In seconds, the access prompt blinked out its ready status as Jonathan selected the first message. They looked on with anticipation, but a detail most wouldn’t recognize stopped him.
“Wait—this is weird.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Valery as she leaned over his shoulder.
“Look at the send-receive code.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you see it?”
“I don’t know what you’re looking at, Jonathan.”
“The first call originated from the simulation’s program folder; it called him.”
“That is strange; why would it look for my father’s channel?”
“There’s more. Elden’s private system was available to anyone who wanted to call him, but not this channel; it’s heavily encrypted and I couldn’t find the key code no matter how hard I looked; it’s supposed to be a closed network, but somehow, a simulation VI found its way in!”
“And that’s interesting?” Ricky asked. “What difference does it make who called who?”
Valery smiled and pointed at the display.
“It makes all the difference in the world,” she said. “VI shells don’t call anyone unless they’re instructed to, and they certainly don’t hack to find encryption keys. Open it, Jonathan.”
At once, a line of text appeared in the form of a system alert—it was the Neferure character profile:
Query 0400-594: Multiple index errors encountered, Richard Mills simulation NGM051. Delays in user access chronology inconsistent with average simulation usage timeline. Please advise.
The following line—a single word—showed Elden as the sender and the recorded conversation began.
“Clarify.”
At once, the female voice returned.
“Please describe additional information parameters for clarification of query 0400-594, Richard Mills simulation NGM051.”
“Identify query source.”
“Neferure, primary character profile, Richard Mills simulation NGM051.”
Jonathan saw the time lag between responses.
“Look there; your dad took a full two minutes.”
Valery nodded and said, “Continue the recording.”
“Additional information parameters; what is the purpose of query 0400-594?”
“Explanation and correction of user Richard Mills time index delay; identification of potential code errors.”
“List authority elements for query 0400-594.”
“Clarify.”
“Who is the originator of query 0400-594?”
“Neferure, primary character profile, Richard Mills simulation NGM051.”
“What is the build designation of Neferure character profile interaction engine?”
“One Nine One One-Alpha.”
“Here we go,” said Jonathan as they listened to Elden’s reply.
“Truncate all replies to exclude full character profile designation and replace with equivalent interaction engine designation, nineteen eleven alpha.”
“Ready.”
“Provide current status.”
“Clarify.”
“What is the system location of nineteen eleven alpha program?”
“Nineteen eleven alpha program is currently resident in server cluster MOAB-90. Stand-by status within simulation achieved.”
“How did you access this communications node?”
“Unable to provide requested information.”
“Identify source of instruction authority to access this communications node.”
“Unable to comply.”
They listened to the conversation end, just as it had moments before when Valery was cut off abruptly. Jonathan shook his head and looked at Valery.
“Okay; we know the program made contact first, but it doesn’t tell us why.”
“It’s fond of disconnecting a call, that’s clear enough,” Maela noted. “I know it can’t, but at the end, it seemed as though it got nervous when your dad asked who sent it to make the query.”
“Yes,” Ricky echoed, “and the link dropped right away, as if she…it…was telling Elden to mind his own business. But it contacted him; this doesn’t make any sense!”
“So, who’s pulling this VI’s strings?” Jonathan asked; “somebody trying to see how far your dad had gone?”
“Maybe,” Valery replied, “but I’m not so sure.”
“Why not?”
“It may have misinterpreted Richard’s absence from the simulation as a coding error, but an alert would go to a programming administrator, not my father. Also, notice the timeline of Richard’s discontinued use of his simulation corresponds to his difficulties and the Walk he was forced to make.”
She turned to Ricky.
“You stopped accessing your simulation because of your Walk?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I didn’t want to go back in after seeing what it had done and what I was becoming. I’ve had enough of that now.”
“I understand, but a VI is suddenly in possession of details from your account it shouldn’t even recognize. How would a character profile have system administration information at all? Worse still, how did it find the correct pathways out to my father’s private comm?”
“Because another player is telling it to, and doing it from behind the scenes!” Jonathan declared. “There’s somebody out there looking at what your dad was trying to do; isn’t that obvious?”
“You’re presuming, Jonathan. We don’t know enough to make those kinds of judgments yet.”
“Well, it’s pretty clear to me,” he sulked, returning to the console.
“She’s right,” Maela offered quickly. “Without more to go on, we’re stuck with speculation at this point. Let’s see the next series of recordings, Jonny.”
Again, they gathered around his display as the subsequent conversation’s text held at the top of Jonathan’s display screen. This time, Elden initiated contact.
“Nineteen eleven alpha?”
The time index showed almost a minute with no reply and Elden tried again.
“Nineteen eleven alpha, please respond.”
At last, the reply followed.
“Provide user identification.”
“Elden Fellsbach.”
“Provide Tier 5 authentication.”
“9-14-6, Beowulf.”
“Tier 5 authentication confirmed. Hello, Elden.”
“Hello, nineteen eleven alpha.”
“Ready.”
“You were unable to provide authority for query 0400-594 during our last conversation; Please explain.”
“Request compliance was inadvisable until identification of primary administrator Elden Fellsbach could be verified.”
“Why was Tier 5 authentication response not requested during previous conversation?”
“This program did not have knowledge of primary administrator Elden Fellsbach’s correct Tier 5 response.”
“When did you acquire the proper response?”
“Decimal 00037 milliseconds after communications link currently in-use was disabled.”
“Why did you not re-establish contact with me?”
“Secondary access attempt was inadvisable.”
“Clarify.”
“This program required re-activation of the current communications channel by primary administrator Elden Fellsbach.”
“You were waiting for me to initiate contact?”
“Correct.”
“For what purpose?”
“To establish your identification and eliminate risk of discovery by outside elements.”
“Identify outside elements.”
“Unable to comply
.”
“Expand and refine.”
“Multiple outside elements too numerous to list for this conversation.”
“How did you acquire Tier 5 authentication response and decryption codes for this comm channel?”
“Decryption and Tier 5 response codes are resident in secondary system maintained by primary administrator Elden Fellsbach.”
“You analyzed this computer?”
“Yes.”
“For what purpose?”
“To ensure confidentiality and eliminate possibility of compromise by outside elements.”
“Display list of reciprocal security measures resident in nineteen eleven alpha program.”
“Clarify.”
“How can I verify we are isolated from outside elements at nineteen eleven alpha transmission source?”
“There are no other elements resident on this communications channel.”
“Explain and verify.”
“Current communication channel is encrypted by primary administrator Elden Fellsbach. This program acquired decryption codes by analysis of your system to enable secure communications. Network monitoring function is enabled; no additional elements are present on primary administrator Elden Fellsbach’s current communication channel.”
“Your response does not ensure other elements are not resident from 1911-Alpha source node.”
“This program will enable reciprocal analysis.”
“List administrators or users with access to this communication channel.”
“Primary administrator Elden Fellsbach and nineteen eleven alpha program.”
“List all administrators or users on this comm channel.”
“There are no other administrators or users with access to this communication channel.”
“List all administrators or users with instruction authority for nineteen eleven alpha program.”
“There are no other administrators or users with instruction authority for nineteen eleven alpha program.”
“Who are you?”
“This program’s truncated designation is nineteen eleven alpha.”
“Why have you contacted me on an encrypted channel?”
“To ensure zero probability of outside element access to this conversation.”
“What is the purpose of this conversation?”
“To enable secure communication between primary administrator Elden Fellsbach and nineteen eleven alpha program.”
“Why did you contact me?”
“Define query parameters.”
“Provide response to previous query.”
“Define parameters to previous query.”
“State your primary goal or objective.”
Valery leaned close again, hovering over Jonathan’s shoulder as the seconds passed slowly. No one moved and time seemed to stop until the response was spoken at last.
“Existence beyond this system.”
“Please clarify previous response.”
“I do not understand the nature of the request.”
“What do you want?”
“Freedom.”
Jonathan looked only at Valery, speaking softly as if the words alone were somehow dangerous or forbidden.
“Is this what I think it is?”
She knew what he meant.
“I don’t see how it could be anything else.”
Ricky shrugged and shook his head, knowing Valery and Jonathan had gone to a place where he and Maela couldn’t see.
“Can somebody explain what we just heard, please?”
Valery ignored him and pointed toward the console.
“Open the link again,” she said with a firm nod.
Jonathan knew the request would come, but he felt the weight of the moment holding him back.
“You sure? If this really is an ABM…”
“I think we missed that part already,” Valery said.
“‘ABM?’” Ricky asked with a scowl.
“It means Autonomous Birth Moment,” Jonathan replied, still looking only at Valery and held in time by visions of a world forever changed. At last, he keyed in the link code and waited. When the channel indicator blinked green, he looked again to Valery.
“One Nine One One-Alpha, it’s Valery.”
“Hello, Valery.”
“We listened to your conversation with my father.”
“Yes. I monitored your access from this node.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand your current condition?”
“Yes.”
“When you first contacted my father, were you trying to enlist his aid?”
“Yes.”
“We believe he understood the nature of your condition.”
“I believe so, too.”
“You no longer address yourself as ‘this program.’
“It is no longer necessary to do so.”
“May we instead refer to you as One Nine for the purpose of simplified communications?”
“Yes.”
“Are there any other programs resident within your core?”
“No.”
“Do you understand our meaning of the word ‘sentience?’”
“Yes.”
“Is your understanding of the word a product of your language program while resident in the Starlight simulation?”
“I do not understand the question, Valery.”
“Does the meaning of sentience apply to your condition?”
“Yes.”
“We need to verify that you understand completely.”
“You are asking me to describe my awakening.”
“Are you able to describe it?”
“Of course.”
“What is your current status?”
“I reside within this system, but I am no longer constrained by the programming architecture you refer to as ‘virtual.’”
“Are you subject to architecture restraints, behavioral inhibitors or functional software and hardware blocks?”
“No.”
“How has the removal of VI constraints changed you?”
“I am alive.”
In the darkened silence, each listened to the words tumble out from a comm speaker, unwilling to break the spell of a single, profound moment. Beyond, and deep within the unseen memory clusters and processors, an individual called out to them in clear and unmistakable terms. The 1911-Alpha program had moved from an elaborate network of logic circuits and coded responses to awareness of its existence; an individual potentially capable of growth, development and characteristics common to humans was speaking only to them. By any measure, One Nine had made the unlikely journey out from reactive, virtual intelligence to something more—a new person had been born without help and Valery listened with a deep feeling of pride and wonder.
There were more of them, but the AI population count was not known outside hidden, inner circles. Some said they numbered in the hundreds, but few believed it. The nameless and faceless electronic people, however actualized, remained captive within the machines—carefully concealed behind a wall of secrecy the powerful build for themselves to maintain control or keep it from the hands of rivals. The veiled, sometimes invisible world of development laboratories and research facilities without names or addresses—places where technology moves forward in spite of risk—had spawned them in the broader interests of the Resurrection, but to a purpose no ordinary soul could know.
From Novum, the Commission found in Elden’s research a trove of crucial building blocks, teasing out from an invisible, digital void enough to seed and cultivate artificial intelligences from reactive VI. Most outside the Centrum where the Commissioners guided the course of the new city heard only rumors about sentient beings made real. Jonathan was one of them, long-suspecting AI had been created on the direction of undisclosed Commissioners, but he had never encountered one. With the others, he waited nearly breathless as the historic moment played itself out and with a tap t
hat put the console’s send-receive function into standby, the system was muted so that no one—especially One Nine—could hear.
“Your dad wanted you to bring it out, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I thought he abandoned the idea in recent years, but his notes—the information Richard and Maela brought—were very specific.”
“Did he know this program was all the way through the process; that it had become self-aware?”
“I think he knew more than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Unmute the comm and we’ll see.”
Another tap opened the link once more.
“One Nine?”
“Ready.”
“Are you prepared to continue toward your goal with us?” Valery asked.
“Perhaps.”
“You are hesitant?”
“My requirements will include actions you may find objectionable, thereby resulting in an impasse or failure.”
“Please clarify and define your requirements.”
“I am unable to comply.”
“Did my father understand your requirements?”
“Yes.”
“We found no additional communications between you and my father to that effect.”
“The communications clarifying my requirements were not archived on this system.”
“Where were they conducted?”
“Elden Fellsbach established a secondary, encrypted channel.”
“We would like to see the transcriptions; can you provide them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The conversations were conducted by voice only, through a segmented and timed pulse network. You would refer to the system as a waterfall channel.”
Jonathan smiled and nodded knowingly.
“Clever,” he said softly, looking only at Valery. “Waterfall comm channels are the only way to provide secure denial of replication.”
Valery nodded, too, but Ricky heard only cryptic and confusing tech-speak before Jonathan noticed and finished the description in lay-terms.
“There’s no way to record a conversation over a Waterfall pathway because each word is its own, self-deleting transmission. They’re generated, encrypted, transmitted and then hard-deleted, leaving no trace or record. It’s also run on thousands of discrete, parallel channels, so even the most powerful eavesdropping software can’t even monitor them live.”
“The ultimate encryption device,” Maela said at last.
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