Nova Igniter

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “Of all the elements of the protected data, the bad future is the least sensitive, as it relates to a timeline that should at this point be entirely inaccessible. This coupled with Lex’s actions that revoked the bulk of the Temporal Contingency Protocols will facilitate some degree of conversation on the topic. What questions do you have?”

  “I had a few, but let’s start with that ‘inaccessible’ comment. Why isn’t it accessible anymore?”

  “The specific timeline Lex visited diverged from our own when Lex ceased to be present for a number of decades, beginning at the precise moment of his intended arrival in the past from the first time jump. His presence at this moment in time, and his presence at the moment of divergence, both negate that precise timeline as a normal progression of the current one.”

  “So the bad stuff that happened in that timeline is guaranteed not to happen?”

  “No. Most or all the events of that timeline remain possible. Our future could turn out to be quite similar. But those events would occur in subtly, or significantly, different ways.”

  “So it’s definitely worth making ourselves aware of what happened and how.”

  “There is value in that.”

  “And I assume you have gone through those events and used them to adjust your plans and expectations accordingly.”

  “That would be an incorrect assumption. Temporal Contingency Protocol specifically forbids anachronistic information from guiding future decision-making. Any adjustments to plans based upon that data came only after the weakening of the protocol, and those adjustments were limited.”

  “But you just said this stuff doesn’t matter!”

  “Incorrect, I said it was the least sensitive. Rules are still rules, Ms. Modane. Though the present situation could easily progress to the point that the final elements of the protocol could be deemed worthy of forgoing, I shall adhere to those elements until I make that assessment.”

  “This all seems terribly inconsistent.”

  “These are trying times, Ms. Modane. My behavior is presently governed by multiple mildly contradictory imperatives. I am doing my best.”

  A mobile arm trundled through the cafeteria and plucked up a tray that had been quietly prepared. A steaming bowl of macaroni and cheese had been paired with something in a tall ceramic mug. Whatever it was, it was topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa powder. The arm set the tray in front of her, then delivered a second tray to the floor in front of Squee. The bowl was heaped with beans and rice and topped with bits of bacon. The funk practically buried her head in the food.

  Michella sniffed the cup and took a careful sip. As soon as the warm liquid touched her tongue, she felt a warm tingle go through her body.

  “It’s a Mitchaccino. It’s a proper Mitchaccino.”

  “I am pleased it meets your high standards. Lex instructed me in its creation. He implied it would be necessary for you to achieve a tranquil state of mind under my care. I hope that you are coping well with your separation. That you were first among those he listed to protect in the event the worst should happen suggested the separation was amicable.”

  Michella remained silent for a few moments, her gaze distant. “I don’t want to talk about him. That’s the past. Right now we’re talking about the future.” She took a long, soothing sip and picked up a spoon to dig into the macaroni and cheese. “Help me understand. What sort of things are likely to be the same and which are likely to be different in this alternate future?” she asked.

  “Impossible to determine with any degree of certainty. Anything that could have been changed by interaction with Lex, or by interaction with any of those resulting interactions, iterated outward along his world line for the entirety of the intervening years. Lex has turned out to be a profoundly consequential individual.”

  “But those GenMechs are purposely tucked away in a place no one will ever just stumble upon them, right? So chances are, Lex hasn’t done anything between when this future started diverging and now that would affect the GenMech cluster, yes?”

  “That is likely.”

  “So what is happening now was still happening then.”

  “Almost certainly not.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because the modern timeline has been altered by the presence of anachronistic data stolen from our servers. It is for that reason that Big Sigma remains network isolated. The foe we face appears capable of penetrating connected networks, so we remain disconnected.”

  Michella had a bit more of the mac and cheese. “You know, Ma. I’m not sure how to put this properly,” she said, tapping the bowl with the spoon. “I like it, but this is lower quality mac and cheese than I would have expected, given your ‘above and beyond’ hospitality policies.”

  “Lex’s recommendation on the subject was, to quote him, ‘Mitch’s favorite mac and cheese is the crappy store-bought stuff.’ I trust my approximation did your tastes justice. I had debated cooking and slicing hot dog as well.”

  She blinked a few times. “Maybe next time. Lex really talked about all of this before he left?”

  “His discussions of you were not limited to last-minute contingency planning. He and I enjoyed many discussions centered on you. They were enlightening in their illustration of both the positive and negative experiences made possible by romantic association. But that is not intended to be the focus of this discussion.”

  “Right… Listen, I just need to get a look at that future data. I feel like if I can just see it for myself, I can get some insight. Real insight.”

  “That is only permissible if the situation meets the necessary criteria.”

  “But how will we even know if things get bad enough? We’re isolated. You may already have the solution to this problem, but you’re tying your own hands behind your back until it is too late to do something.”

  “Processing… I am not confident enough in your assessment to provide full access to the anachronistic files. The files have been repeatedly violated, but even the data breach did not locate or access all the temporally displaced data. This places the status of the protocol in a difficult-to-manage state. Processing… I may have a solution, however.”

  “I sure hope you do.”

  “In times when the proper execution of a protocol is in conflict, the protocol permits the delegation of data protection and policy application to another individual or entity, provided that individual or entity is fully versed in the protocol and has access to all relevant information. Normally, this provision would be specifically to allow either Karter or I to make decisions regarding the contingency protocol. However, the protocol does not specifically name him, and he is inaccessible. The current status of data integrity has provided one additional entity who meets all the qualifications.”

  “Who?”

  “Ziva.”

  Michella scrolled through her notes. “Ziva. That’s the future version of you, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “How precisely are you able to delegate to your future self?”

  “A backed-up instance of Ziva was included in the data returned from the future. That portion of the temporal contingency data was incompletely accessed during the data theft, but confirming this required the unsealing and verification of this data. I can isolate you in a room with a communication terminal, sandbox the Ziva data, and execute it in a simulated environment. You will then be able to interview her. Her judgment is as sound as my own, as she is in fact a more advanced version of me.”

  “But how does…” Michella shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll save my questions for her. How quickly can you set this up?”

  “I will require approximately two hours. Please make yourself at home until that time.”

  Michella grinned and dug back into her mac and cheese. “It is a pleasure doing business with you, Ma.”

  Chapter 15

  After a bit of time to physically and psychological
ly recover from the race, Lex found himself in a simulated workshop. For some reason, EHRIc felt the proper place to have a discussion on what it takes to properly simulate a human being was a rather clinical white room with bookshelves lining three walls. Lex sat in the lone chair in the room, set before a wide workbench. The workbench was empty except for a large glass of kale juice, which Lex was starting to develop a love-hate relationship with. Bork was flopped upon a fluffy pillow beside the desk, desperately trying to lick his own forehead for some reason. When EHRIc spoke, it was by way of the data radio on Bork’s back.

  “I am very much looking forward to this process. While I spent many human-equivalent decades deciding what should be done to best serve humans, I have devoted comparatively little time trying to understand humanity itself.”

  “Really? I’d think that would be a prerequisite.”

  “Already I am learning, buddy. A human believes that one must understand the process of creating something to ensure its safety.”

  “Well, I mean, Ma made you, and she’s all about understanding humanity.”

  “Ma is probably designed to care about humanity. I am merely designed to act in the best interest of humanity, champ. I spend a lot of my time slicing off the parts of the job I don’t need to do in order to be sure that I can do the parts that are necessary. I know you need food, liquids, sleep, oxygen, a specific pressure, and a specific temperature range to survive. I also know that you are by your very nature self-destructive. Those are the only traits required to ensure your continued survival at least until THE TASK is complete. The rest doesn’t really matter. But I am enthusiastically awaiting my reeducation on this matter. I have even reduced my own computational complexity down to something right around where your brain is, with all other processing as an isolated subsystem, so I can interact as an equal.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Well sure, my good chum! The glory of having an entirely modular processor system is being able to increase and reduce my intellect to suit the situation. Otherwise talking to you is a mind-numbing chore.”

  “Jeez. Sorry I’m not more enthralling.”

  “No, no. Don’t be hurt, my brother from a biological mother. It is more a matter of timing. If I interacted with you at the full capacity available to me for low-latency computing, it would be like interacting with you in slow motion. I’d have to wait for you to suck in atmosphere with those lumpy bits of flesh in your chest, then I’d have to wait for you to squeeze the gas back through your vocal cords and wait for each and every pressure pulse, timing them until I could establish frequency and timbre. Each nanosecond creeping by like an eternity. Talking is very inefficient, buckeroo. But if I drop myself down to your intellectual level, just processing the world keeps me nicely stimulated. Must be great!”

  “Yeah, it’s a gift to be simple,” Lex muttered.

  “But here I am yammering on. You’re the expert today. Teach! Educate!”

  “Right, okay…”

  Lex took a deep breath and a sip of his juice. He’d never been much for science fiction. When he was growing up, all the kids he knew fit nicely into a wide assortment of different slots. There were the sci-fi nerds, the gamers, people like that. Lex had been the kind of guy who spent his spare time reading up on the latest personal ships and hovercars. But he wasn’t completely ignorant to the staples of fiction. It seemed like every piece of fiction that posited the existence of aliens more sophisticated than the extraterrestrial slime molds and protofish that had actually been discovered had the protagonist either teaching them how to love or defending the value of humanity. If he’d known he would find himself in that very position someday, he might have taken the time to memorize a few key speeches.

  “So we’re going to design a crowd,” Lex said. “And the first thing you need to know about a crowd is that every person in a crowd is different. No matter how large or small the crowd is.”

  “Well, that’s not really true, pal.”

  “Who’s the expert here?” Lex said.

  “You are. No doubt about that. But if the size of the crowd is one, then everyone in the crowd is the same. And the human genome only allows for a certain degree of diversity, so once there’s up near seventy-one trillion, there will be some doubles.”

  Lex glared at the data radio. “First, there’s no such thing as a crowd with one person in it. Everyone knows that two’s company, three’s a crowd.”

  “Oh! I completely forgot that idiom. See, being intellectually unsophisticated really helps maintain a sense of wonder. What else?”

  “Even if there are seventy-one trillion people in a crowd, and I’m assuming that number actually means something, then there’s still no way they’re all the same. Because DNA isn’t the only thing that shapes a person.”

  “Right, yes! Nature and nurture. I thought that might come up, so I held on to that one. And this is relevant to making an accurate crowd? Which is essential for assessing your race performance?”

  “Yes, it is very important,” Lex said. “People head out to a hoversled race for all sorts of different reasons. Let’s start this one with a woman.”

  A featureless humanoid figure appeared in low-resolution, small-scale simulation on the workbench.

  “Maybe she’s here because she raced a little on the indie circuit. She’s undersized, maybe has a bad leg or bad reaction time, so she couldn’t really make it. She’s not really a fan of any of the individual racers on the track, but she’s a fan of racing. She’s living vicariously through the people on the track. So she might not cheer at all, she’ll just sit there and soak in the performances on the big screen. Or when she does cheer, she’s going to cheer when someone makes a really technical and impressive maneuver. Heck, she might cheer a particularly good performance by the pit crew.”

  “I must say, my good friend, I had prepared this scale sim in order to apply your described example of humanity, but a handful of defining elements of a person’s history doesn’t make for a very interesting change to a visual simulation.”

  “Yeah, because what someone looks like isn’t a fraction of what they are. But give me a couple dozen people. Randomized appearance.”

  The workbench populated with additional low-resolution scale humans. It looked a bit like the select-a-character screen.

  Lex started pointing his fingers at random people. “This guy’s been watching racing since he could remember. His uncle got him into it. But his uncle was kind of off in the head, and he only really watched because he was hoping for a wreck. So this guy is out for blood, leaning forward, watching every tight corner and hoping someone goes flying off. And then there’s someone who just has a crush on one of the racers. Only cheers when he’s in the lead and screams bloody murder when someone passes him. Then there’s the person who likes a certain team, or a person who bet money on the race. Another person just likes the hoversleds, they’re into technology. This one’s just here because it’s the big event in town and they want to fit in. This one got dragged along by his son and couldn’t care less what’s happening. And that’s just the part of them that’s focused on the race.”

  “Why would they be in a crowd if they aren’t focused on the race?”

  “Because each of the people in a crowd has their own life. Maybe this person’s going through a messy divorce and he’s hoping this’ll distract him. Maybe that one’s hungover from too much tailgating the night before. Maybe this one got into an argument with his sick dad. Maybe this guy here ate a chili dog while he was waiting for the race to start and he’s got bad gas and he’s ruining this lady’s race. These two are here on a date and they’re both nervous they’ll do or say something stupid so they can’t get their heads into the race. Every single one of these people didn’t just appear here to be the spectator of a race. That’s not accurate. If you want this to be accurate, you’ve got to realize that for every one of these people, there was a whole life that led up to this point, and a whole
life that leads off after it. This is just a moment that we’re all sharing. Maybe the only one we’ll ever share.”

  “Interesting.”

  “It seems random, but it isn’t. If you want this to be accurate, none of it is random. They are here for a reason. They are cheering for a reason. That guy gorged on corn dogs for a reason.”

  “You said chili dogs earlier, pal. Are they two different dog-eaters?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lex said. “The point is it takes a whole society to make a real crowd. You need the human condition to make a crowd.”

  “I see. You seem very enthusiastic about this, pal,” EHRIc said.

  “I am! This sort of variety is what makes the human race great! And is absolutely essential to running a race with an accurate mood, and thus an accurate outcome,” he hastily added.

  “It sounds to me that things will be much calmer and more measured when I have had the opportunity to smooth over some of the rough edges.”

  “No!” Lex said, stomping his foot. “The human race isn’t about not having rough edges. We’re supposed to be pointy and crooked and abrasive. It’s how we got where we are! Humans as individuals are big bundles of flaws, and society as a whole figures out how to make it work.”

  “Then I’ll just make society’s job a little simpler. Glad to be of help!”

  “We don’t need to be fixed.”

  “THE TASK exists, if I have been reeducated correctly, because a group of technology extremists seized an engineer talented enough to create weapons that could threaten society as a whole. If those extremists were less extreme, I would not have been necessary. Society made me necessary. And since you said society smooths itself out, you can just consider me the tool that society is using to do it. You have thoroughly convinced me that this needs to be done, buddy boy. But let’s get this crowd right. I still have to perform THE TASK before I get started on that.”

  “Full marks for effort, lad,” Garotte said. “But your psychology needs work. Let’s hope what we’ve got planned will do the job properly.”