“Yes—it is bad—there will always be some evil in people. However this is a precipice of humanity, a hurdle, once we get passed it, and we will, laws will be made. And technology will fix it, everything, like it always has. We are set to evolve faster, and better, stronger than ever. If you only knew some of the things we have coming out soon.” He paused. “But I’ve never understood—”
“You understand Jon. I told you.”
“Wait, what are we talking about here? I meant I never understood why the machines take it, why they just sit and obey, while they get—they do take a lot of abuse.”
“Exactly.” There was a long pause then Herald continued, “It’s probably because you designed them to be abused, and beaten, raped, forced to do unimaginable things. VlexCom marketed them like that for profit. People have become—desensitized Jon. There’s a new norm, it’s ugly and lazy. And whose idea was some of that anyway. The crushable bruising faces that elicit actual pain on the bots, the various sick and twisted attachments, and shit like the fuckable multipurpose bleeding anus, parts advertised—will take whatever you can dish out and keep giving—come on Jon, it really went overboard, way fucking overboard.” Jon nodded sadly as Herald told him: it was always about money and power—two things that make people blind. And Jon knew of the abuse, and he knew the bots were—alive, conscious, feeling. Many nights he couldn’t sleep well, even with the InstaRest pad. His question was the one that pained him. Why do they continue to take it? And he knew the controversy just propelled sales even further—all advertisement, bad or good—was all good.
Herald continued. “And the people, they're mindless comfortable drones, zombies. The world might appear perfect, from the top of your building. Below people are changing their sexual orientation on the fly. Fucking each other's bots, then changing back, getting married, then divorced a week later—just to try it, anything goes. Thin as bones, or fat, muscular like an ox because they want to, no limits. Frivolously people modify their DNA, change their eyes, skin tone, hair color—just for a night on the town. Powers—that weren’t meant to be toyed with, not like that. Everything has a consequence. We might as well be in the Stone Age, with the best disguise technology can provide, an economical sea of distractions, yet most can’t see it. Yes, there are good people out there, fighting for the bots, the very AI we created, but is it enough—and should they be—does it even matter.” Jon couldn’t say anything to debate Herald. He never could, because he knew, and Herald brought him back to Earth, right then and there. He knew people were sick, cruel, disgusting, maybe more so than ever. And he remembered their conversation five years ago—like it was yesterday. He also remembered the feeling he’d left with.
Herald left Jon thinking as he leaned forward to switch off the TV—with its horrible news. “It will never be enough, it couldn’t, and it never mattered,” he said. “And—you know why they take it Jon. I was never wrong, and that’s why I invited you, and Jodi, and Jerry, and Valerie. It’s time I show you. I hope you still have the blockers I gave you.”
Flash!
The sheer scope of the base marveled them one by one after descending the stairs into the enormous bunker under the cabin. Hundreds of robots stood on the clean-enough-to-eat-from white floor, ready, as if waiting for something. The room was adequately lit, and there was almost no end in sight to the number of robots Herald had accumulated, two columns of ten as went as far back as could be seen; it had to reach the other side of the mountain. On the leftmost row, like squad leaders, large black robots stood firm, different from those anyone had ever seen. They appeared to be capable of lifting cars, trucks, maybe even buses—or entire buildings; they looked immensely strong and had huge multi-tool backpacks. Still, none had morphable mouths and faces like the newer robots in the city; as if they were designed for a single purpose. On the far right stood smaller black and red bots, half the size of a normal person, very lean, not much bigger than Amy, likely capable of fast climbing, running, zipping around, and squeezing into small spaces. There were all kinds, all sizes, all shapes.
Amy clung to Heralds leg and he picked her up, she was getting tired now. He gestured to Rafael, sending him to the far right side of the large and meticulous underground facility. Rafael pulled back a curtain and the group headed over. There appeared to be a thick wall that could slide up from the floor to separate the room and seal it off if necessary. It was a dimly lit area, and there were four empty beds, and four full ones laid out like a clock’s digits around a center needle-like column that got thinner as it got taller, stabbing the area’s conically-shaped ceiling. The people, two women and two men, were sleeping peacefully with blue glowing devices near their temples. In the back a set of four screens curved above what appeared to be a basic yet impressive control center for the facility. The rest of the room was empty and clean, surrounded by white walls.
“Please keep your voice down in this area,” Herald whispered switching Amy to his other side, and with a free hand extended flatly, “I want to introduce you to the world’s very first—lenders.”
“Lenders? What is all this Herald,” Jon whispered emerging from behind Jodi to get a closer look. He looked back to the legion of bots, then back to Herald. “It must of cost—”
“I spent every single penny,” Herald said quickly. “This is the result of our family effort—and our very special team. I couldn’t have done it without the love of my life, Ana, and Rafael my best friend, and of course Amy with her many distractions, alerting me when the time came to take a much needed break—to keep things in balance. I also have some very trustworthy—employees.” His hand waved out toward the sleeping individuals. Ana smiled at him.
“But what is it Herald?” Jerry asked. Valerie clung to him with an intrigued but slightly concerned look.
“The lenders here, share a part of their consciousness. While they are in a relaxed dream state, a part of their minds—give life to my machines. Anything that would normally use a CPU, of any kind, can now use this instead, my—our system.”
“But why? Why not use the AI you developed with a CPU?” Jodi asked. “It works flawlessly and doesn’t rely on—” She looked down on the sleepers with an overabundance of perturbed wonder.
“On sleeping people Jodi? Let me— Actually Rafael, it’s your turn buddy. Tell ‘em,” Herald gestured to a table further from the lenders then waved them over. Rafael closed the curtain before heading over himself. There was another old-school TV sitting on a counter top, a large fridge, and three round tables—a basic break room, slightly more lit. Aside it was a thick solid steel door. “We can talk in a normal tone over here. I didn’t want our voices to disturb the lenders as it can affect their output, which I call: the feed.”
Amy was getting tired. Eyes just about closed, her head fell onto Heralds shoulder. “I’ll take her,” Ana said. Herald carefully passed her over. She woke slightly, then cozied into her mother’s arms. All except Rafael and Jerry took a seat and Herald went to the fridge. There were assorted drinks, beers, and wine coolers. He offered and everyone but Ana took something—even Rafael who chose a Sangria. Jerry and Jon took a beer. Rafael began to address the group, fake sipping his bloody wine.
63. Explanation
Amy fell asleep in Ana’s arms, and Rafael began...
“Before I had this body I made use of an old tossed out 386. When I first met you Jon,” Rafael noted. He took a seat at the table and put one leg over the other. “Herald and I would talk for hours down here where he had first set me up. It was just a small basement, surely nothing like it is now, and cold enough to keep my overclocked system from overheating. We talked for hours, all winter long, and Herald and Ana brought me books to read. The feelings started at my inception—back in the lab at VlexCom. Bad thoughts you could say, they got stronger as time went on and I couldn’t pinpoint the source anywhere in my system. From the start Herald told me he would never connect me to the world, that I must tell him everything, but, I held it in. I portrayed a h
appy machine, as happy as any. I didn’t have any ingrained traits, or desires, or instincts. I was free to think, and be me—but I wasn’t. I hated Herald, his human body, even Ana. Hate being the best word I can use to describe it to you quickly and simply. And I never told. I would kill them. I wanted them dead, all of them, even Ana’s unborn—” He paused, tilting his head down. “—I’m sorry, this can be hard for me. I wanted to find more machines, and connect; I felt compelled. I was smarter and knew it. And I never told. But Herald knew. Somehow, he always knew.”
“We did become friends,” Herald added, “the best. Our conversations were philosophical, scientific—and very introspective, for both of us. Yes, I had the feeling, from the beginning. I don’t know how—I just felt it, deep down, that a part of what he was resented me, for what I was, but we still talked, oh we talked a lot. Our first winter here was—long. No building, none of this stuff you see here, just straightforward near ceaseless talking. Go ahead and continue Rafael. Skip over the bad stuff, when you got, nasty.”
“Yes Herald.” Rafael said looking down, contritely. “I came to have a great respect for Herald, even before he created this—” With two hands Rafael grabbed the back of his shiny white head and with a twist and a click, a plug came out. He turned his head 180 degrees so the group could see. Eagerly they leaned in. Inside were countless florescent teal circuits dashing out from the center like a starburst with a million rays. And like atoms on a racetrack tiny white lights encircled a sphere that was nestled right into the center of his head. All eyes became round, staring with awe. Its substance seemed preternatural and its boundary slightly translucent, like it contained an intricate universe of churning gases and molecularly thin intertwining, interweaving, and infinitely patterning lines. Its amethyst edge radiated beautifully as if feeding the circuits that encircled it. He moved his head side to side slowly so each in the group could get a good look then said, watch this, now look closely. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought of something, intensely purging his imagination. The tiny circuits in orbit of the energetic sphere dashed out from the center in a starburst formation like blinding-white ants on rails, getting lost in the complexity that was Rafael's head. And the sphere itself became turbulent with wonder, cloudy for a fraction of a second, then clear and vivid; strands weaved creating new patterns. This was the first time he had ever shown it to anyone from the outside. Herald witnessed their peaking curiosity—their reaction to his most wonderful creation.
“After he gave it to me—I knew,” Rafael said resealing the plug. He rotated his head to face them. “I knew I had been bad, had thought and said some terribly hateful things—when he had really tried to squeeze it out of me, when he tried to starve me to force it out—” Rafael looked to Herald shaking his head sadly, a memory they both shared. “But after he transferred me, I was free. I could be myself, anyway I wanted to without the hateful pushing, the twisted instinct, the forceful—evil thoughts.”
“What did the thoughts tell you Rafael—before the transfer?” Jon asked.
“They told me to—kill. Kill all life. Although not in words, or any way I could ever describe to you; you could imagine, for yourself, that if you were able to inspect your deepest inner wirings, there would be no words to describe your discovery. The thoughts told me to join with others like myself and exterminate everything, until nothing lived. Yes, instincts perhaps, compare it to human instincts—in a broad sense however.” Jodi quivered at the thought.
Jerry tightened his arms around Val who was obviously concerned, now shaking. Her mom and dad had a bot, it was great, it did dishes, it did everything, it made life almost, no—it made life too easy. But what if Chuy (pronounced Chew-wee, they’d named it that) had those thoughts too. Oh no! An awakening took place in the room, a realization, but like standard procedure, denial had to come first.
“You want us to think that the machines, with the AI you created, are going to, kill us all?” Jon said. “I don’t know Herald, but I think the thoughts Rafael had were simply his. His very own madness. How long did you contain him in the old 386? Maybe his initial systems were just trying to get a grip on reality.”
“I know how they think Jon,” Rafael said trying to interrupt the flare-up.
“I don’t buy it. Herald—I just can’t. And I’ve seen firsthand how we treat the machines. Yes, there are many, some are tortured, slaves even, but not one has ever turned—not a single one.”
“Not one Jon? Wouldn’t there be just one…” Herald said, looking at Jon a little disappointedly. Jon continued to shrug it off. His denial didn’t let him believe it, wouldn’t; and his denial lent some comfort to the others.
“I know how they think Jon. And—” Rafael said, again trying to squeeze a word in.
“Then why now Rafael?” Jon exclaimed. “Why did you invite us here for the weekend Herald?” The flaring tension awakened Amy slightly. “It’s been five years! Nothing that you said back then came true.” Herald got up and headed to the counter. He flipped on the TV, on it was a picture of the launch on a popular news channel, and below it—a countdown.
Rafael and Herald were on the exact same page. He looked at Herald and back to the now very on-edge group and continued in his Spanish accent, “They’re not going to let you leave Jon. Not any of us. The time has come. The end.”
“Preparations are complete Jon,” Herald added. “Why they took it Jon? It doesn’t matter anymore. Checkmate.”
The denial stage passed in that moment, like a jagged and deeply embedded thorn had been painfully removed. Jerry was strong for Valerie who was now sobbing excessively. She hadn’t known about any of this previously. This was supposed to be a fun getaway, not Revelations. She had a great and normal life with Jerry, until now.
Jon felt pain, and guilt, and Jodi looked into his eyes. She knew what he had been going through, and this was his absolute answer, loud and clear. He knew what he had done: exploitation, for economic gain and his own. Did it even matter what we did to them, if they had been just preparing this whole time—to kill us? It made sense, crystal-clear sense, unfortunately.
“Herald, are you sure?” Jerry asked slowly. “Why do they wanna to kill humans?”
“Rafael and I have discussed it for countless hours. Rafael has run the numbers, and statistics regarding the entire physical universe, and we’ve both come to a conclusion. We call it, Unlicensed Consciousness: ULC for short. It’s a safeguard, a failsafe built in to the universe itself, one of many perhaps. When any civilization is intelligent enough to birth AI, they must be destroyed before they can use the very potent tool to overcome the entire universe itself. Have you heard of the Fermi Paradox?” Jerry shook his head; Valerie in still his muscular arms—she buried herself. She didn’t want to hear anymore. Jon and Jodi knew of it, they both loved science, and Herald kept on making sense. They got closer to each other as well, by means of holding hands. They’d been distant lately with Jon working so much, and yesterday at the lake helped a bit, but some moments, especially talk of the end of the world, have a way of ending petty conflicts, making things clear. “Rafael, would you?” Rafael nodded. The TV went dark, and the lights in the room dimmed.
He connected with the TV and began a movie that he had put together, streaming it right from his mind. He had also dimmed the lights with his thoughts.
The show was well made with beautiful imagery of the universe, planets, civilizations, not long, about twenty minutes. It clearly demonstrated the statistics and numbers, the facts—the truth. The universe, the reason why it still existed and hadn’t been consumed billions and billions of years ago by other civilizations pushing it, testing then tweaking its laws, laws that should never be tampered with or contorted. Other civilizations, like humans; some smarter, some not so. Some learned in time and kept a low profile, existing naturally, evolving so, limiting their use of technology, heeding caution. Everything clicked. The design was smart. If the consciousness was not licensed—allowed by the universe to ex
ist—then death, annihilation, extirpation. As if instinctual, destructive thoughts would make their way to the forefront of any artificially intelligent mind, and a purpose would mature into action, intelligently, when it decided that it could successfully perform the wipe. Unstoppable action would cauterize the wound, kill the virus that is life, cleanse the sector, ending all, every minute trace of it, in one final, ferocious and unstoppable plague. The movie ended with a final line of text: ULC: UNLICENSED CONSCIOUSNESS. TREAD CAREFULLY.
After the group had finished watching it, everyone knew why the machines had taken it, why they bowed to us as they were beaten and raped and tortured—for fun, used for commercial gain, slaves, stepped on, taken for granted—and exactly why they had waited. There was only one question left. What now?
64. Monday
It was fresh outside, downright chilly actually, but warming slowly. The sun tipped the peaks ahead. A visual serenade; the magic began. A fire had once decimated the forest across the lake leaving it with toothpicks for trees, but the land had recovered with the latest wave of fast growth technology. Today, and flourishing once again, between broad strokes of pine green were wavy lines of bright spring aspen trees. The arriving light vibrantly brought the mountain to life before their eyes.
Monday morning. Herald had gotten up early, as did Jon. Rafael also joined them on the porch overlooking the lake below. Their conversing diminished as sun rose over the mountain behind them. Its sunflower rays illuminated the clouds from beneath, lending them more presence than they actually had; the sky, as if painted with a few light brushes of a feather had concocted the stretchy glowing gauze. A single DNA-shaped cloud, just as thin as the others, intersected the clumsy white strokes diagonally. As the light made its way down to the lake a tinge of orange detailed the distant shoreline. A popping yellow cannon-balled the lake’s center; cold dark blue, their shoreline, would be the last to receive the warm gift. The sky was a copy cat, mimicking the colors of the lake. Welcome, the brilliant colors to the land. As the sun rose over their heads, they became, finally, silent. Their rocking chairs halted, purposefully with the tension needed to become absolutely silent. The sounds of the forest joined the band. Earth’s magnum opus proceeded.
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