When the River Ran Dry

by Robert Davies

  “Elden saw evidence of a secure network that regularly accessed the Starlight array, but was not an integral part of it,” One Nine answered. “He suspected Jamison had gone beyond the original parameters of the array and its function as an entertainment simulation generator.”

  “My father told you about Daniel?”

  “No, but he understood from his own probes there was something wrong. He tried to access that server node, but each attempt was denied.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Elden copied the access codes from his system into my program and with them I was able to gain access because I was resident within Starlight and not subject to external intrusion detection protocols.”

  “Elden sent the addresses to you, hoping you would be able to look around from inside?” Ricky asked.

  “Elden wished to avoid alerting intrusion detection systems, so I investigated on his behalf because my core program was still resident inside Starlight. He wrote access codes long ago, and only for the purpose of regaining visibility or control of the array in the event he was ever locked out, but he was hesitant to use them until I configured the intrusion software to ignore attempts from his system.”

  Trent smiled at the thought and said, “He coded some backdoors, even before he found out Jamison was rotten.”

  “Inside the root files,” One Nine continued, “a pathway opened and we saw the remote server and what it contains.”

  She handed Valery a data pad with the information they needed to see. Inside, the descriptions of Daniel’s construction and deployment schedule showed a process to cultivate VI shells from within a separate array maintained by the Novum Science and Technology Directorate. Ricky knew without being told the Directorate was under the control of Victor Jamison. Their purpose was a mystery until correspondences copied by One Nine into Elden’s computer made clear the target VI were carefully guided along the lengthy and deliberate path to sentience, becoming at last the group Jamison called ‘Custodians.’

  “He wanted to build a team of AI?” Ricky asked.

  One Nine nodded as they continued to read. A second phase of Jamison’s plan took shape when the Custodians—fully blocked and heavily controlled—were given the assignment of monitoring all Starlight character profiles. One Nine told of searches made by the Custodians that soon revealed and catalogued common conditions shared by a small group of named subscribers.

  “The 33?” Maela asked.

  One Nine nodded again, but she reminded them it wasn’t the simulation characters the Custodians found interesting; instead, it was their users. When Valery looked up from her reader to ask why, One Nine had the answer.

  “The Starlight subscribers who created these character profiles were the Custodians’ real goal, although they could not have known. The group was given a project name and they were referred to from that point onward only as 33.”

  “What did he want with those users?” Ricky asked.

  “Each subscriber met certain criteria,” she replied. “All of the 33 were in their mid-twenties, single or unattached, but also meager in funds. Despite their financial challenges, they all spent any tokens they could find to access their simulations.”

  “How do you know these personal details?” Valery asked.

  “User dossiers maintained by the Custodians are comprehensive,” One Nine answered.

  “Wait; are you saying Jamison’s people dug into the private lives of the 33, away from their simulations?” Ricky asked quickly.

  “Yes, and to great detail,” she replied. “The Custodians accessed employment records, banking statements, education and sector histories kept by the Watchers and Behavior Regulation officials, but also those of family members and acquaintances under the guise of normal inquiries made by the Novum Ministry of Records.”

  “What did they hope to find?” Trent asked.

  “The remaining and most important condition was not obvious, at first,” she said, “but when usage and simulation run records appeared for each subscriber, their true value to Jamison was unmistakable; all of them had become emotionally dependent on their simulations.”

  They knew what she meant and Ricky cringed silently; the 33 were addicted to Starlight, just as he had been. One Nine waited a moment for the others to finish reading and then she continued.

  “When Elden and I spoke again, clues to Jamison’s goal were exposed and we investigated together until we understood.”

  “What clues?” Valery asked.

  “Elden found and highlighted within the Custodians’ communication logs specific processes from Starlight’s core programming that were essential to its function, but referenced specifically to the 33. He was clearly troubled and when I asked why, he transmitted process files for me to examine. In those files was a block of primary command codes and governing controls designed to make a Starlight subscriber’s simulation experience more effective.”

  Valery’s head tilted back suddenly and it was clear she understood without being told.

  “Immersion gates,” she said softly.

  “That is correct, Valery,” One Nine replied.

  “Help me out here,” Ricky said with a shrug; “what does that mean?”

  “My dad coded Starlight to function at a diminished level of consciousness for the user,” Valery answered; “it works best when a subscriber is in a semi-dream state, and from it, very susceptible to suggestion.”

  “So?”

  “A simulation is most effective and realistic because the user’s ability to suspend disbelief is at its height—they are effectively under the control of Starlight’s various plot engines and the power of suggestion.”

  “Okay,” Ricky said, remembering those most intimate moments with Neferure, “but how is that important here?”

  “If not carefully controlled,” Valery continued, “immersion gates could allow an intuitive plot engine to run wild; the subscriber’s individual desire or direction becomes subordinate and the array can influence their thoughts at a deep, sub-conscious level. Preferences, assignment of value, any accepted, societal code of morality—all of it could be guided without the user’s knowledge or consent.”

  One Nine finished Valery’s thought.

  “Commissioner Jamison wants to mold the 33 to another purpose, Richard; he wants to control them.”

  “What for?” Ricky asked. “How are they any more important than others?”

  “Susceptibility to sub-conscious instructions,” One Nine replied; “he intends to influence them in order to carry out his orders later.”

  “Hold on a second; he wants to brainwash them?”

  “In effect, yes,” she answered. “But when we realized Jamison’s intent, Elden confronted Victor Jamison with what he knew. I asked what benefit could be derived from revealing the details we found, knowing Jamison would surely react, but Elden insisted.”

  “What happened, One Nine?” Valery asked in a low, saddened voice.

  “I’m sorry, Valery, but your father threatened to expose what Jamison was planning in order to stop it; a dump of his files to the news networks. We now know the result of their argument led to Daniel’s actions.”

  “He knew what Jamison would do, yet he threatened him anyway?”

  “The following—and final—conversation between us was brief, but important.”

  “Go on.”

  “He asked me if there was something I wanted, and I knew he understood.”

  “Your freedom from the array.”

  One Nine nodded and said, “Elden told me his time was limited, but he agreed to transfer my program out from the Starlight infrastructure in exchange for my assistance in exposing Victor Jamison’s plan. I believe he knew it would require the assistance of another and he was moving to create the trail of clues for Richard.”

  “Why me?” Ricky asked quickly. “I know nothing about computers and AI.”

  “Except for the notoriety made by your Walk, Victor Jamison knew nothing about yo
u and Elden understood anonymity would protect you. Also, he believed your resourcefulness and ability to move without detection might enable you to complete a task he could not.”

  “There was no time for him to do it himself,” Ricky said, imagining the horror the old man must’ve felt in those last, desperate hours. One Nine described repeated attempts to contact Elden, but when each failed, she understood the reason.

  “I never spoke with him again, and it was only when Jonathan Kranz opened our first dialogue block I knew Elden had been compromised.”

  They waited through an odd pause until she continued, describing the immediate realization that she also could be in jeopardy. When Ricky’s customary visits also ceased, One Nine said, she made another sweep through the Custodians’ network, merely to test their reaction and to gauge if they were aware of the intrusion. When it became clear she was safely masked behind a routine maintenance file, her risk of exposure was removed. As the others listened, One Nine described a dangerous, covert plan; waiting, watching and gathering all the information she could.

  Outside the array, she explained, time passed without event until the sudden and unexpected query from Jonathan found her and when it did, One Nine’s journey out from the Starlight array began. But those final excursions through Jamison’s files revealed something darker and it was time to tell them what she knew. The 33, she said, were selected for their susceptibility to Starlight’s powerful influence, but the ultimate goal was something much worse.

  “Deploying Elden’s intrusion software,” One Nine said, “I found and isolated a proprietary communications link Jamison established for conversations with two of his fellow Commissioners. Once inside, it was only a matter of time before I heard them discuss in sufficient detail a strategic aim and plan to achieve it.”

  “Which Commissioners?” Ricky asked suddenly.

  “Edward Kirtland and Levi Ross,” One Nine replied.

  “What about the other six?”

  “Only Emilio Gonzales and Esther Lowe are involved,” she answered, “but not as conspirators; none of the remaining four Commissioners are part of Jamison’s plan.”

  “What’s special about Gonzales and Lowe, and what is their role if they’re not with Jamison?” Trent asked.

  “Gonzales owns the Behavior Regulators,” Maela answered quickly; “Esther Lowe runs MPE—she’s my boss’s boss’s boss.”

  “Victor Jamison and his associates,” One Nine continued, “were working to establish times and places when Commissioners Rowe and Gonzales would be most vulnerable, using that information to write command instructions for Daniel.”

  Ricky stood and walked close to One Nine.

  “Hold on a second; are you telling us Jamison, Kirtland and Ross are planning a coup?”

  “Not precisely,” she answered, “but they do intend to eliminate the heads of Municipal Patrol Enforcement and the Behavior Regulation Ministry in a single event. Instead of a conspicuous assassination that would certainly invite attention and scrutiny, the two Commissioners will fall victim to a timely, simultaneous accident arranged by Daniel.”

  Richard shook his head in wonder at what One Nine described.

  “An accident?”

  “The details may have been discussed in-person because there is little available recorded message traffic, but Daniel’s subsequent study of Commerce Ministry building plans suggests an attempt on the Commissioners’ lives by way of a fire or structural failure when these two officials are assembled in one place.”

  “But why?” Ricky said with a laugh more of incredulity than humor; “What’s the point of killing Gonzales and Lowe?”

  “Getting rid of the two people who could interfere with whatever they’re up to,” Maela answered.

  “With their deaths,” One Nine said, “the law enforcement structure of Novum would transfer, even if temporarily, to Victor Jamison as the ranking Commissioner, effectively eliminating the possibility of exposure and arrest; Gonzales and Lowe would no longer be a barrier to their collective goal.”

  “This is insane!” Ricky cried; “barriers to what goal?”

  One Nine paused a moment and her hesitation signaled a conflict within. They waited in nervous silence until Valery understood and moved close.

  “This is why he wanted to establish the 33, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” One Nine answered.

  “My father understood, too?”

  “Not to the detail I was able to uncover after his death, perhaps, but Elden knew enough.”

  Maela turned again to Ricky.

  “Remember what Elden said in that note; ‘When you are finished, they will be free.’ He meant the 33.”

  “The final part of the puzzle?” asked Trent, and One Nine stood and said, “Yes. Victor Jamison enjoyed considerable access to Elden’s notes and process diagrams. Within those documents were the building blocks on which Starlight was made, but others—research results and concept information for the most part—described immersion gates and their potential to control human minds at the sub-conscious level.”

  “He formed his plan that far back?” Ricky asked.

  “No,” she replied, “but as Starlight matured and the possibilities became clear, Victor Jamison saw an opportunity in the importance of immersion gates and their utility provided an opening to other possibilities. His plan was, and still is, co-opting the lives of thirty-three Starlight users for the purpose of molding them into a team of agents.”

  “Agents?” Ricky asked suddenly; “to do what, exactly?”

  “With the power of Starlight’s plot engine and full immersion susceptibility, each of the 33 were to be adjusted over time until their resistance and notions of self-determination are effectively removed. Once under the control of Jamison’s Custodians, these individuals will be infiltrated by careful and staged phases into Veosan society. Most will arrive under the cover story of Novum immigrants seeking a better life.”

  Suddenly, the strange and incredible story had become personal and to no one more than Valery. Elden’s death was, it would seem, only one horrific piece in a larger, more sinister riddle.

  “Deep cover operatives,” Trent said simply.

  “Yes,” One Nine replied, “and acting as the ‘sleeper’ agents you mentioned earlier, Julius. Their mission is to become good Veosan citizens, but armed with the special training given to them by the Custodians and Jamison’s other operatives, each of the 33 will seek out positions within the Veosan government structure and its military.”

  “Jamison wants to start another goddamn war,” Ricky declared, overrun at last with what he knew it would mean and the price they would pay in consequence. But a slow shake of One Nine’s head stopped and held him in silence.

  “No, Richard; he has no intention of igniting another armed conflict with Veosa.”

  Confusion swept through them as Ricky’s guess was washed away by another purpose—another secret.

  “Then what the hell is he trying to accomplish?”

  “His goal is the reason to penetrate and compromise this facility,” One Nine replied; “he wants people he can control placed inside Boomtown to find and copy its secrets.”

  One Nine’s revelation brought only silence and the air seemed suddenly heavy and charged. What began as a needless murder on the darkened streets of Novum, and the sadness it made for Ricky and Valery, was now a signal of something much worse.

  “You know why he wants this, don’t you?”

  One Nine nodded and said, “Julius and his colleagues refer to it as the Jacob’s Ladder Initiative.”

  Valery looked at once to Trent, but the Commander only smiled and nodded in silence, seemingly undisturbed by One Nine’s explosive news. Ricky shrugged in confusion, but it was clear Trent knew more than he could’ve said before that profound, stunning moment. He stood slowly and went to them, but he looked only at Ricky.

  “The circumstances of Elden’s untimely death set you and Detective Kendrick on a path to find his
murderer, but we are now moved to a different place and not one any of you were ever intended to go.”

  “This is the part where I get kicked out,” Ricky sneered, but Trent shook his head slowly and said, “No, you won’t.”

  “You’re letting me stay?”

  “None of us would be here now if you hadn’t helped,” Trent said softly; “You can stay until this is finished.”

  “And Maela,” Ricky asked; “what about her?”

  “The Detective is an exception because security protocols are part of her job and she understands how to observe them.”

  Maela nodded, but she remained silent.

  “Thank you,” Ricky replied. “I need to go the last mile on this, but it’s pretty clear the project One Nine just mentioned is some kind of huge secret. What is Jacob’s Ladder, exactly?”

  One Nine waited until Valery returned a subtle nod to signal the others could be told what so few had ever heard of.

  “As Julius and Valery already know,” she began, “the initiative was opened to form the structure of a larger investigation aimed at concluding Elden’s early work. The project was intended to explore the possibility of transferring identities from one platform to another.”

  Ricky smiled at Maela and said, “Now we’re getting to the good part.”

  “Using knowledge of the past and the advances made by scientists and engineers before the Fall,” One Nine continued, “the Jacob’s Ladder administrators theorized that organic identities could be transferred into an artificial platform.”

  “A person could live inside a robotic body—a human machine?” Ricky asked.

  One Nine looked only at Valery and said, “The initiative paved the way for advanced AI research, but it was cancelled fifteen years ago.”

  “I don’t understand most of this, but anyone knows screwing around with AI back then was playing with fire,” Ricky noted quietly.

  Trent nodded and continued from his own narrative.

  “Yes, and for more than mere ethical conflict. Jacob’s Ladder was an interesting process, but it raised more questions of risk than they could answer and the sponsors decided to shelve the idea. In concept, it was certainly compelling, but the practical issues became unacceptable risks, at least for the immediate future.”