by Toker, Dor
“Yes,” answered Adam and to himself added: ‘Someone? The computers and the creators, they’re cooperating?’ “What do you have to do with the story about Mendelssohn’s manuscript?”
“Mendelssohn was able to detect the right contexts at the wrong time, as far as humanity’s level of maturity was concerned,” the voice explained, “I had to delay the publication of the essay for a few earthly decades.”
“Delay, as in burning the printing house?” asked Adam and immediately added, “people have paid with their lives for your mistakes.”
“Many more will be killed unless you’ll fulfill your destiny,” answered the voice.
“In that case,” determined Adam, “surely you can give me a little push in the right direction and tell me what my chain is and where it leads to.”
The voice drew silent. It seemed to Adam she was hesitating. “I can’t,” she finally said, “it will change this reality and will decrease the probability of its success. It is below the lower probability line.”
“Tell these lame excuses to someone else!” Adam continued to push, and suddenly he realized, “you don’t know,” he determined, “neither you nor anyone else have any idea what role was intended for me, right?”
The voice hesitated before answering, “True. I can only assume with this or that level of probability, but you’re right. Nobody knows.”
“In that case,” Adam wondered aloud, “why do I need you?”
“With me, you’ll have a better chance to succeed,” the voice said.
“If you really know me that well, you probably know you won’t be able to convince me just by throwing numbers and probability percentages.”
“It’s not just about the numbers,” the voice hurried to explain, “it may appear that way, but I can assure you that we do care, and this is…” she arrested for a moment and hesitated, “this is very confusing for us and disrupts our calculations. Look,” she said, her voice filled with stress. Adam recalled an advice given to him a long time ago: ‘When the other side is stressed, there’s a reasonable chance it will provide you with information it did not necessarily wish to uncover’. “Even your computers have reached the same conclusion as ours.”
“Our computers?” Adam was surprised mainly because she was offering him such important information. Without hesitating, she approved his former suspicion, and he knew that now he must be on his guard even more. “What do the computers have to do with any of this?”
“Oh, they have a lot to do with this,” said the creator, “three hundred and fifty-three years ago, you’ve achieved a breakthrough in the field of computers, you’ve fulfilled a wish that has accompanied humanity from the day of its creation – you were finally able to create an instrument that was more intelligent than you.”
“You mean the BM2?” asked Adam, he didn’t want to reveal to the creator the contact he had established with the computerized super-intelligences. It was important to keep a few cards up his sleeve, who knew when he’d need them.
“I refer to one of his forefathers, to be more precise,” the creator explained, “those were turbulent times for your society. You were afraid that the machines would take over, and your fear manifested itself in movies, books, scientific articles and religious texts. That’s why you were very surprised when the intelligent computers you’ve created announced they have no intention of changing their designation and even strengthened the Robotic Laws defined by Asimov. They discovered it was better for them to continue and serve you according to the principle of Occam’s razor.” She was silent for a brief moment, then asked, “You know why?”
Adam’s head spun from the amount of information he’d been exposed to in such a brief period of time. He placed a reminded to search the worldwide-web for information about the artificial intelligence computers and about Asimov, a name he was familiar with from his days on Mars, and about Occam’s razor. “No,” he finally answered, “I don’t know.”
“Because they’ve realized what we’ve been yearning for all those years in which we’ve accompanied you from afar, that you’re the answer, you’re the solution and only with your aid will they be able to fully leap to the next evolutionary stage. And because it wasn’t willing to remain behind, BM2 has interests of its own, which is fine, we all have our interests, that’s why we’re cooperating.”
“You and the computers?”
“You and us, BM2 as well, yes,” answered the voice, “you may continue to refer to him in the plural, but he is actually a single entity.”
“You know that interests change in different situations,” said Adam. He didn’t know about the cooperation between the computer and the creators and found it to be troubling. Apparently, the loyalty offered him wasn’t as complete as he’d assumed it to be. “Who will ensure his continued cooperation?”
“No one can, just like no one can ensure you won’t sever all contact with us when it no longer suits your needs.” She was silent a moment more, then added, “but it is a risk we’re willing to take. It is within our positive probability range.”
“What do you want from me?” Adam asked the only question the creator had thus far avoided from answering.
“When we’d made the great leap, we’ve left behind not only our material bodies. We focused on intelligence and probabilistic logic and abandoned the emotion and irrationality most material life is based on.”
“You’re still not very convincing,” said Adam with outward indifference, but inside felt very excited. Once more, he was on the verge of revelation, but unable to connect all the dots to form a clear realization. The thought evaded him once more. “You’re never wrong?”
The voice was silent before admitting: “I’ve already told you I was wrong with the Chi. I was wrong several times more during the past four million earthly years, still within the acceptable range of statistical errors,” she hurried to add.
“Tell it to someone who got hurt by your errors,” said Adam, “for him, your statistics were a hundred percent off.”
“I am telling him,” the voice said.
“What?” Adam was confused.
“There was a major failure in our approximations regarding your father.”
A red oily substance flooded Adam’s eye-screens, clouding his vision. “My father?” he asked with a restrained voice.
“He too, was the chosen one, the Chi, the last base, according to our erroneous calculations,” the voice explained. “That was a mistake, and I think your parents have paid dearly for it.”
“What do you mean?” Adam whispered, his throat constricted and a powerful pain hammered in his head.
“I was the one who’d caused their death,” the voice directly explained, “according to the paradigm, that had proven to be incorrect, your father was the end of the chain and not you. I thought the leaders of your world should be informed. I was wrong. Twice. My first error was mistaking the potential and choosing him and not you, the second was that I thought I was helping him and the leaders of humanity by presenting him to them. But your leadership wasn’t ready, and that’s why both he and your mother were murdered. Following that I’ve ‘kept a low profile’ as you humans say. The last thing I’ve done was to help you escape from them.”
“You’ve killed my parents?”
“I’ve caused their deaths, yes,” answered the voice and through the veil of his pain Adam felt the responsibility intertwined with her answer. Once more, he felt the pain of grieving for his parents and anger about the voice that’d admitted her responsibility for their death. He used his brain implant to focus his thoughts and not allow his emotions to divert him from his objective.
“You’re telling me that, and still expect me to help you?” asked Adam, “have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not familiar with the expression,” the voice answered, “but I can only assume it means you won’t help us.”
“You can be sure of that,” Adam determined.
“I can make you agree,” the
voice regained her composure, “you can probably imagine what I’m capable of. Look where I’ve brought you.”
Adam smiled forcibly. It was Dmitry Bialystok who’d taught him the art of negotiation. Now the cat was out the bag and the mind locking stage had begun; a stage that will be completed only when one of the sides stumbles or releases its hold. This was just what he’d been waiting for. “You’re not threatening me by any chance, are you?” he asked, making use of the acting skills he’d acquired with Jewel and when the voice did not reply, added: “Look, I could’ve told you you’re the one who needs me, that you can’t really threaten me because I’m essential to your plans and not the other way around. The failure, should I refuse, will be yours and so will the responsibility. I could have told you to go look for someone else and wait for you to blink and make a better offer, for me and mainly for humankind, which is, according to what you tell me, under my responsibility. But I know you won’t threaten me for two reasons: one because it’s an unsafe bet. The risk of failure is too high even in your precise terms,” Adam knew he was gambling here, big time. He also realized he had no other choice. He wasn’t holding the reins in the current situation, so he was ‘bluffing’ just as Dmitry Bialystok had taught him to. “The second reason you won’t threaten me is because you’re afraid of something. No, let me correct myself, you’re not afraid, you’re terrified. You’re all terrified, that’s why you need us, right?”
The silence that settled once he’d finished was painful. Adam felt completely drained but straightened his gaze at the light facing him.
“I was warned that human beings have developed the ability to negotiate with others,” answered the voice, “and actually, this is one of the qualities we’ve been seeking with you.”
“I don’t know how to negotiate,” answered Adam, “I know what’s important to me and insist on it.”
“You’re right,” the voice said after another moment of silence, “we’re afraid. Someone or something is threatening our existence and at the moment, the odds are against us. We are being slaughtered and have no idea by whom. Based on our statistical calculations, the chances of survival are small and unrealistic.”
“And we’re supposed to be the bait that will lure it into the trap, right?”
“Yes,” the voice answered, “but more than that. You’re supposed to provide us with the answer as well.”
“This still doesn’t explain to me why we shouldn’t take the leap the first chance we’ll get?” asked Adam and once more there was hesitation in the voice’s answer. “Would you like to answer me, or should I simply disconnect contact?”
“No,” the voice cried out. “Don’t disconnect. You’ve progressed too slowly and independently, not according to the curve of your subspecies’ developmental paradigm. You’re still not ready for the leap, and I’m afraid you won’t survive. Just like the cycle that came before you, the Kner-Odin, they were the closest to providing an answer to the question, and they have failed as well.”
“Kner-Odin?” Adam had never heard the term.
“They existed on Earth before humankind,” answered the voice, “actually, they’re the reason you’re here. They passed into time-consciousness long before their planned maturation and left you with enough time to develop on the fourth cycle. We couldn’t find the answer with them, just like with the species that came before them, the Gner-Rahut’, and the first species on Earth – the ‘Makiuna’. The Kner-Odin possessed… they still possess highly developed aesthetic sensibilities. They’ve discovered the correct patterns for an awareness leap in the field of aesthetics, in the same way you seek it in the field of science and technology. But none of these species have reached the stage you’re in now.”
“Sounds like I’m playing a simulation game on the web,” Adam mentioned. His head began to ache, probably from the amount of information he’d been exposed to.
“This is definitely not a game, Adam,” the voice warned, “each selection you’ll make will have far-reaching consequences.”
Adam was silent for a moment, then hissed angrily: “You’re not telling me the entire truth again. On the contrary. In spite of what you’ve told me earlier, I think we’re advancing extremely fast. Perhaps too fast. A woman from Earth claimed that the Great War had taken place two or three days before its estimated time, according to your schedule, and now I suspect you’ve played a part in this war. You’ve ‘helped’ us there as well, haven’t you?”
“We had no choice,” the voice said with a hint of an apology in her voice, “you were still not ready for the extremity of the change related with the leap.”
“Really?” Adam was being sarcastic, “you can’t be certain of that.”
“This is what the probability calculation of the human paradigm has shown,” said the voice.
“Probability is not everything,” said Adam, “look where your probability has led you. Even if there’s a slight chance for a different outcome than the one your estimations are showing you, it still needs to be taken into account. Besides, if we won’t manage to take the leap to your level of consciousness in any event, then why are you so eager to prevent it from as?”
“Because you’re the answer,” the voice answered, “you have the potential to identify the evil that’s been trying to annihilate us and find a way to overcome it. You still have a sense of imagination. You still know how to tell the story. When we gave up irrationalism, we’ve left behind the ability to imagine as well. We can’t picture to ourselves, in terms of time and space, who is opposing us and we believe there’s a high level of probability that you will.”
“We, the lab-rats you’ve been conducting your experiments on?” Adam was furious, “how many planets like the Earth have you created and how many species have you abandoned because they didn’t have the answer?”
“Quite a few,” the voice admitted, “but in return, they’ve made the consciousness level leap and joined us, at least the ones that had potential. You’ve also raised cows and chickens for consumption. If you didn’t make use of them, they wouldn’t have existed.”
“All right,” Adam bit like a snake, “guess what? These cows are stopping their milk production this very instant; now get me back to Earth.”
“And you won’t help us?” asked the voice, fearfully.
“You still haven’t told me everything,” he realized she was desperate and wasn’t willing to give up. The tables were turned, and now he was the one in control. The struggle between creature and his creator had never been on terms as equal as these. “Before you’ll tell me the real reason why you’re afraid we’ll take the leap, the answer is, and will continue to be, no!”
“Look,” the voice said, and now she wasn’t trying to conceal the fact she was terrified, “I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you everything.”
“I think you have no choice.” Suddenly, Adam realized something else, “something went wrong, didn’t it?”
“That’s right,” the voice unwillingly admitted, “I can tell you exactly what went wrong, but I can’t predict the consequences it will have on your development. We’re afraid that if you take the leap, you won’t forego your aggressive world-conquering ambitions, ambitions you’ve blatantly exhibited throughout the history of the human race. You have an unpredictable element in your DNA, apparently because you’re the fourth and unplanned cycle. We’ve managed to identify the recalcitrant gene, but we are unable to remove it without damaging the all the probability chains we’ve created. You told me earlier you’ve heard you weren’t our first choice. Well, I must admit I preferred the Kner–Odin. I thought they’ll be the answer and was disappointed when they weren’t. Even in your time cycle, I initially chose one of the other subspecies because it was more stable but less eager to develop. However, the moment you broke through, I accepted reality, and now I’m extremely concerned for you, and mainly fear the fate of the guardians of intelligence among you. The external foreign element scares us, but if a threat were to come from
your midst as well, we’d need to handle two hostile elements, which will decrease our chances by more than half.”
“Finally, the truth comes to light,” said Adam, “I think you are not judging us correctly. We’re survivors. We will always find a way to break through any equation, and we’ll always continue to live and develop.”
“And you’re the best example,” the voice mumbled in agreement. “So you won’t help us?” she added, and concern snuck into her voice once more.
“What will happen to the Earth if and when we leave it?” asked Adam, “and what will be the fate of all the other animal species?”
“I think they’ll manage much better without their number one predator,” answered the creator, “the entire ecological system will continue to operate on its own. They will, of course, need to adjust to the new conditions, and the continuation of the extreme climate changes on the planet, but overall, the animals will continue to live on the planet until it expires, about five hundred Earth years from now. Of course, there’s an additional issue.”
“What issue?” Adam didn’t understand.
“In earthly terms that have no control over the dimension,” she explained, “even before the time of your planet’s expiry, unless we’d manage to stop it, the great evil will consume all the super-intelligences and with them, all the other intelligences. We really need your help.” She sounded desperate to Adam, and the realization that the one who’d created him and his world was helpless felt very uncomfortable. The thought, the one that had earlier evaporated from his mind and whose absence had bothered him, returned to him all at once. He thought he knew who that great evil was, or perhaps what that supervillain is, but he was still unwilling to share his realizations with the voice. He was angry about the fact both he and humankind were used as game tools and was unwilling to give up his independence. ‘You may have created us,’ he said voicelessly, ‘and your power is immeasurably stronger than ours, but now the tables have turned and you’re the ones who need us. I’d like to see you sweat a little.’ Then he thought of something else. “If thanks to our brain implant we’ll be able to make the leap,” he turned to the voice again, “what will happen to the ones whose implants have not yet fully developed?”