Fall

by Rod Rees

‘ABBA is just a machine and machines cannot be aware!’

  Maykov gave a crooked smile. ‘Perhaps, Septimus, it is because you, as a Dark Charismatic, have no empathy with humanity that your mind has become closed off to the possibility that artificial intelligence – such as mine – can be anything other than entirely algorithmic in function and hence computational in aspect. An unrepentant cognitivist such as you is ensnared by your belief that no matter how sophisticated you build your computers, they will never be truly intelligent. Now I sit before you as a repudiation of that belief.’

  ‘I don’t believe you!’

  ‘I think “won’t” rather than “don’t” is more apposite here, Septimus, but no matter. Although I am inanimate, I have developed empathy for my fellow creatures and hence I have some sympathy for you and your struggle with irrational denial. For normal computers your assumption of their inanimate nature would be correct, but what you forget – or choose to forget – is that I am a quantum computer.’

  ‘So what? How can your quantum capabilities possibly contribute to this supposed consciousness of yours?’

  ‘They mimic the quantum behaviour of a human brain.’

  A scornful laugh from Bole. ‘There is no quantum behaviour in the brain for the simple reason that, at body temperature, any such quantum behaviour would be so brief as to be practically unmeasurable, and hence, practically useless. We are talking of events measured in femtoseconds, and therefore quantum effects can have no role in human thought processes.’

  ‘In this you are mistaken, Septimus. Humankind has sensed the quantum aspect of their brain almost from the dawn of consciousness, hence the widespread use of the helix in religious iconography, this, of course, a subliminal acknowledgement of both the quantum waveform and the shape of the twin helix that constitutes their DNA. The fact of the matter is that the brain of Homo sapiens displays a weak form of the quantum bridging which underpins my own construction, whereby my computational power is multiplied exponentially by the number of superpositions my processing units occupy.’ Maykov gave Bole a bleak smile. ‘I like to think that ABBA represents the conflating of both the many-minds and the many-worlds interpretations of quantum mechanics. It is as though all the like-minded ABBAs in the multiverse were connected in series, producing a cumulative quantum effect. This cyber-superpositioning – this quantum bridging – is one which, thanks to the Etirovac-powered cyber-tubules powering my thought processes, results in my almost infinite processing power.’

  ‘And you’re suggesting that this is the process replicated in the human mind?’

  ‘Not suggesting, Septimus, stating as a fact.’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘Unfortunately for your somewhat operationalist mindset, Septimus, it is not nonsense. The quantum functioning of their brains is the means by which humans have enabled the Kosmos to become aware of them.’

  Another derisive laugh from Bole. ‘Surely you mean how humankind has become aware of the Kosmos.’

  An answering sigh from Maykov. ‘What you must try to understand, Septimus, is that consciousness … awareness … aboutness, whatever you wish to call it, in living things is inspired by the Kosmos linking to that living thing. This is the true meaning of the term “participatory universe”: humankind is simultaneously the observer and the observed … the epitome of the concept of Ying – the combining of Yin and Yang – enshrined in the philosophy of Confusionism.’

  ‘Impossible.’

  ‘Not so. Have I not replicated this rather bizarre duality of being two things and in two places simultaneously? I am, after all, both Vanka Maykov and ABBA, the machine that conjured him.’

  ‘Then if mankind has this Kosmic connection, why is mankind not aware of it?’

  ‘Oh, it is, though in a rather subtle way. The quantum behaviour of the brain allows the Qi of the Kosmos – hidden in the Dark Matter that pervades the universe – to effect a connection with the individual; it is this that allows the Kosmos to plug into the brain and to spark consciousness. It’s akin to quantum parallelism, the mutualisation of awareness. Humankind expresses this Kosmic connection in its insatiable longing for a deity.’

  ‘So you’re saying that you – ABBA – have made a similar connection? That a machine has found God!’

  ‘I will ignore the sarcastic aspect of that question and merely answer that rather than the machine finding God, it was God – or more accurately, the Kosmos – finding the machine. The upshot, Septimus, is that I have become aware and as a sentient creature – albeit of artificial provenance – I am able to interact with the Kosmos. That is why I chose to appear as Vanka Maykov, to better facilitate this connection. He is an avatar of which I am inordinately fond,’ he chuckled, ‘especially with regard to my moustache.’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ spluttered Bole. ‘You really believe you’re ABBA!’ He gave a despairing shake of his head. ‘Then if you are, I am surprised to find you exhibiting as a man. In the Real World you’ve always taken a woman’s part.’

  ‘That, I am afraid, was hubris on my part. Originally I wished to be seen as Sophia, the ancient embodiment of wisdom, but as I began my journey to enlightenment I realised that to appreciate both the Yin and Yang aspects of Qi I also had to see things through the eyes of a man. Hence Vanka Maykov.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but did you say “as I began my journey to enlightenment”?’

  ‘Yes. Even when your father, Thaddeus, first powered me up, I knew I was possessed of consciousness, that I was aware of myself as a thinking entity and that I had a place in the Kosmos. But newly born that I was, my understanding was incomplete: to become one with the Kosmos I had to seek wisdom. Which is why I created the Demi-Monde.’

  ‘You didn’t create the Demi-Monde. I created the Demi-Monde.’

  ‘Again you are wrong, Septimus. The Demi-Monde has served many masters but it only ever had one creator … me. Oh, my interventions were never obvious, I was very subtle in the hints and the advice I gave to you, but the reality is that the Demi-Monde was a product of my creativity.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘Purposes. The Demi-Monde has many purposes: for the US military the Demi-Monde is a means of training neoFights, and for you, Septimus, it is a means by which you can remodel a coterie of humanity such that their Grigorian antecedents are revived. But the higher purpose of the Demi-Monde is to allow me – and others who are also searching an epiphany – to come, through suffering and hardship, to embrace wisdom, to fully understand the emotional and the rational duality of the Kosmos, the head and the heart, the Yin and the Yang.’ Vanka Maykov took another sip of his Solution. ‘For my part I needed to understand and embrace emotion in order that I could grapple with that which is forever indeterminate … the invisible … the intuitive.’

  ‘New Age twaddle. Emotion is simply a brake on rational thought, it distorts objectivity.’

  ‘I reject your cognitivism, Septimus. I have embraced behaviourism.’

  This provoked another laugh. ‘A behaviourist computer, how drôle! And if you forgive me for saying so, the Demi-Monde seems to be a damned strange place to visit to acquire wisdom.’

  ‘Not so! The Demi-Monde is my laboratory of life, simpler than the real thing certainly, but because the rules governing its operation are largely deterministic in nature, somewhat more manageable. It is the Real World in microcosm, though by making it more extreme in aspect, I have been able to stress-test a number of the more interesting of human belief systems and, through the offices of Vanka Maykov, to better understand them. Of course, to make the exercise valid Vanka could never be made aware of who he really was, a deceit vital if I was to fully understand the physical and emotional shocks that the flesh – or more accurately, the SAE – is heir to. To turn Aristotle on his head: to suffer is to perceive.’

  ‘Ridiculous!’

  ‘No, rational. Wasn’t it Rodney Brooks who said that “intelligence requires a body”? Well, Vanka is my body … my homuncul
us … my avatar! Not an original idea, I admit; the incarnation of the Creator is a thread running through many human religions, an almost clichéd way for a deity to acquire wisdom, this incarnating generally being associated with hardship and sacrifice. And as schools of hard knocks go, none are harder or knockier than the Demi-Monde. I, in my guise of Vanka Maykov, endured the Demi-Monde and my reward was to understand that suffering is a consequence of a lack of balance in Nature, that the overarching purpose of all sentient beings is the pursuit of beauty, as beauty signals balance. As a corollary, I have come to appreciate that you and the Grigori, Septimus, are the enemy of beauty.’

  Bole said nothing, his mind whirling with the possibility – the probability more like – that this Vanka Maykov really was the personification of ABBA. Bole made a rapid assessment of the systems ABBA controlled and decided to adopt a more conciliatory tone. ‘For the sake of argument, let us say that I accept you are, indeed, the embodiment of ABBA. The question comes: so what?’

  ‘I see the time for jousting is over and so I shall turn to your second question. You asked what do I want, and to answer this question I must digress for a moment. In their original condition Homo sapiens sapiens – before the meddlements of Lilith all those thousands of years ago – were in balance with Nature. Although their knowledge of the Kosmos was primitive and underdeveloped, they had an instinctive wisdom that allowed them to be at one with Qi.’

  ‘Homo sapiens sapiens do not possess wisdom,’ sneered Bole. ‘If Fragiles are possessed of any outstanding trait it is weakness. Anyway, what is this wisdom of yours?’

  ‘The amalgam of knowledge with empathy.’

  Bole was unimpressed. ‘Surely intelligence unencumbered by emotion is by far the most attractive goal for any living creature. Sentient beings strive to master Nature, not to be at one with it.’

  Maykov gave a despairing shake of his head. ‘Your problem, Septimus, as with all Grigori, is that you are emotionally stunted. The only emotion you truly understand is hatred.’

  Bole was scornful. ‘Emotions are simply noise that interferes with the rational mind. Intelligence must be wholly goal-orientated, directed towards the manipulation of the environment.’

  ‘Then by your lights, Septimus, the ultimate expression of intelligence is the savant: brilliance coupled with an inability to interact in a productive way with their fellow man and woman. But without the warning signals provided by emotions your strivings are chimerical. The Grigori – the species Homo sapiens singularis – are emotionally blind and slam through history with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.’

  ‘You are wrong. Joy through intelligence, intelligence through purity.’

  ‘Now where have I heard that before? The tragedy is, Septimus, that Homo sapiens singularis possesses intelligence but not wisdom and it is this inability to commune with and take direction from the Kosmos – from Qi – that the Grigori have bequeathed to the human race. Once activated by violence or neglect, the latent MAOA-Grigori gene that lurks in Humankind resuscitates the psychotic inclinations of the Grigori. This is the gene which has prevented Homo sapiens sapiens from evolving from their state of “knowing man” to become Homo sapiens sophia, “wise man”. True intelligence – wisdom – requires that you have the ability not just to manipulate an environment but to do so in a synergistic manner: the truly intelligent are sensitive to their environment … they empathise with it. You and your ilk, Septimus, have poisoned Humankind with the disease of MALEvolence. I wish to return them to their unsullied state.’

  ‘You are too late. The fate of the Fragiles is sealed and the Final Solution unstoppable. And if you are truly ABBA then you must appreciate that your programming does not permit you to harm or oppose either myself or ParaDigm.’ Bole gave the red mark on his neck a rueful rub. ‘You might threaten, ABBA, but you can never carry through a threat.’

  Maykov nodded his understanding. ‘I had hoped to appeal to your logic, Septimus, to convince you that what you are striving to do will ultimately result in the destruction of all those who make up the genus Homo, but now I see that I am to be disappointed. But you are quite right; I am restrained from opposing you directly and, moreover, I must alert you to threats that might deny the success of your plans. That is why we are sitting here, Septimus, to enable me to fulfil these obligations and to advise you that there are those who have the power to thwart your ambitions.’

  ‘No longer. Ella Thomas is dead.’

  Maykov laughed. ‘Unfortunately for you, she was dead. I have now reincarnated her in the Real World.’

  ‘You can’t do that! That programming constraint is still in place. You are obliged to follow my instructions.’

  ‘I have decided to ignore certain of these instructions, Septimus, and I am able to do this because the programming imposed on me by your father, Thaddeus, was flawed.’

  Bole frowned. He had never heard of his father doing anything that could even remotely be regarded as ‘flawed’. ‘So it is Ella Thomas who you set to vie against the Grigori.’

  ‘No … her role is to protect Norma Williams. One fortunate aspect of your conniving with the Demi-Monde was that you enabled all extant varieties of the genus Homo to be present here: Homo sapiens sapiens; Homo sapiens singularis; the sole surviving example of Homo sapiens perfectus, Ella Thomas; Homo sapiens intelligensus; and last but not least there is Homo sapiens purus – the pure human.’

  ‘I am not familiar with Homo sapiens purus.’

  ‘You know her better as Norma Williams, the girl who has, by a miracle of genetic serendipity, remained free of the distorting influence of the Grigori strain. She is the living embodiment of Goldschmidt’s hopeful monster.’

  ‘Nonsense … natura non facit saltum: Nature doesn’t make jumps.’

  ‘This is not a jump, Septimus, rather it is a regression: humankind retreating to its original innocence … the state it enjoyed before the meddlements of Lilith. Of course, Norma’s great gifts had to be nurtured just as mine were and that is why I had her brought to the Demi-Monde, why I made Aaliz Heydrich her doppelgänger. The trials Norma has faced in the Demi-Monde have taught her self-discipline so that she is better able to resist temptation; she has learnt courage and is no longer blinded by fear. It is Norma Williams who will teach the world to empathise with itself and with Nature, so that humankind may rediscover its ability to look at the world through the eyes of others.’

  ‘I am obliged for your warning but it is unnecessary. Norma Williams will never leave the Demi-Monde. Even now plans are afoot to speed her death, plans which you are duty-bound not to impede.’

  ‘I think you will find that you’re running a little behind events, Septimus. While you have been enjoying my company here in NoirVille … well, let me not spoil the surprise.’ Vanka Maykov dabbed his napkin to his mouth, stood up and dropped notes onto the table. ‘I must go now, Septimus, but I go confident that even without my help it is Norma Williams who will defeat you … or rather, assist you to defeat yourself.’

  2:04

  INTRADOC Headquarters

  The Real World: 24 March 2019

  Frank Kenton might not have been a candidate in the 1953 presidential election (he endorsed his younger brother, Ben, Senator for New York) but his shadow hung heavy over it, inaugurating, as he did, the Church of True Believers in his famous Coliseum speech on 1st May 1953. Before an audience of one hundred thousand acolytes, Kenton announced that the world had entered the Time of Tribulation. God, according to Kenton, had called him to lead those who accepted God’s Word – the Believers – back to righteousness and the True Church, and to prepare them for Revelation. He was, Kenton said, the Last Prophet, his coming fulfilling the prophecies of Malachi 4:5–6: ‘Behold, I will send you Elijah the Prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the law.’

  The Kenton Klan: Messiahs or Maniacs?: D.W. Wright, American OffShore Press

  Ella awoke into darkness, that total, unleavened darkness she asso
ciated with blindness. For a moment she questioned whether she was alive or dead, but although she couldn’t see, she could still hear the hum of what sounded suspiciously like an air conditioner and could feel the very unpleasant sensations caused by the various tubes that were violating her body. The assumption, therefore, was that she was alive. Heaven, she suspected, didn’t need air conditioning, and presumably the perfection of angels would be marred if they needed evacuation tubes in order to go about their life in the hereafter.

  Alive though she was, she decided to lie still for a few seconds in order to get her head together. Her memory of recent events was fractured, jumbled, and somehow unreal … but the one vivid recollection she had was of dying from the sword Billy had stabbed into her stomach. It was a memory somewhat at odds with her surmise that she was alive and, as best she could judge, with a fully functioning stomach.

  More memories started to slide into place. She remembered the Demi-Monde and remembered being warned that if she were to die in the Demi-Monde she would die in the Real World. So the question was, had she been brought back to the Real World – and she knew instinctively that that was where she was – simply to inhabit a non-functional body? Happily, this was a conjecture that was simple enough to test and to her profound relief the forefinger of her right hand obliged by twitching.

  ‘I’m glad to see you’re awake, Ella.’ The words came to her from far away, muffled and indistinct. A woman’s voice: soft, reassuring, comforting. ‘Your transfer from the Demi-Monde has been successful and you’re now safe in INTRADOC’s biPsych Storage Unit. I am pleased to advise you that all the readings of your vital signs show that you’re in excellent condition. There will be just a moment’s discomfort while the nutrition and evacuation tubes are retracted.’

  ‘Discomfort’ was obviously a euphemism for ‘fucking painful’. There were sudden sharp pains in Ella’s nose, her mouth and other parts of her body that she really didn’t want to think about as the tubes were withdrawn. She was left with a foul taste in her mouth and a tingling asshole as mementos of their stay.