Beatless: Volume 2

by Satoshi Hase

  Gathering his courage, he looked Yoshino’s hologram right in the eyes. This was the best plan he could think of.

  “That’s why I need your authority as administrator of this facility, Mr. Yoshino,” Ryo continued. “I need your authorization code to initiate Higgins’ normal shut-down routine. While that’s happening, I can order Methode—through Kirino—to destroy the mass-produced Koukas.”

  After hearing both plans, Yoshino again made his decision without any hesitation or thought.〈Alright then, shall we go with Higgins’ plan?〉

  “Higgins’ plan?” Ryo was so surprised that he couldn’t help but repeat Yoshino’s words. “You’re saying we should free an ultra high-performance AI while it’s under attack?! Are you trying to end humanity as we know it?”

  But Yoshino, who had relied on Higgins for all his answers for decades, trusted the ultra high-performance AI more than he trusted humans.

  〈There’s no guarantee Higgins will do what you’re saying he will, if we execute his plan,〉 Yoshino said stubbornly. 〈I’ve worked with him for twenty years, and I’d say the probability is actually very low. On the other hand, for your plan you’re just hoping the mass-produced Koukas can be taken out before they do major damage, right? If Higgins’ hardware is destroyed, we may not be able to bring him back online even if we shut him down properly and protect his back-up data. If we lose Higgins and, with him, our company’s lifeline, how will you make it up to our six thousand employees and their families?〉

  This adult was happily leaping over the line Ryo had tried to shoot Arato to protect. “You have no idea what Higgins will do to protect his own life,” Ryo growled. “Are you really ready to take full responsibility for what happens when we free him?”

  Yoshino was silent, gazing at Ryo without a word. Ryo suddenly had the horrible feeling that pinning the blame on a rampaging high schooler would definitely be something Yoshino would think of.

  Sure enough, from the safety of his lofty position, Yoshino said, 〈Of course, we would need someone to take the fall for it. Perhaps we could say it was all the work of an out-of-control high schooler?〉

  “Are you insane?” Ryo asked incredulously. “You’re about to push the button that will end our world and you’re trying to find a scapegoat?”

  Ryo’s entire body was dripping with icy sweat. If MemeFrame had become a nesting ground for people like Yoshino, he figured it would be fair to call the company truly evil. He was starting to think that it would be better to break Higgins’ power source and shut him down by force than try to work with the assholes from the company. His frantically beating heart screamed that doing so would cause the mass-produced Koukas to withdraw, and that at least his own life would be preserved. But shutting down an ultra high-performance AI by force had been what caused the Hazard: he, too, could be pulling the trigger for a worldwide calamity.

  Apparently thinking he had won Ryo over, Yoshino explained what he thought was the sound logic of his argument. 〈Being willing to sacrifice other people’s livelihoods to uphold your own version of justice is to be expected from someone your age,〉 he said, perhaps thinking himself gracious. 〈But I need to look after the people who work at MemeFrame. That’s my top priority.〉

  A sudden, violent shock rocked the Operators’ Room, and the security system started blaring an alarm; the Antibody Network’s mass-produced Koukas were already halfway down the IAIA-required emergency access route. Since Lacia was disabling sensors as she went, it was impossible to pinpoint exactly where she was, but Ryo was sure she had also passed the halfway point.

  “We’re being played,” Ryo said. “We’re being used to ensure that Lacia has time to make it here and fight Higgins.”

  Higgins was still in complete control. That was the power of the Higgins faction. To the executives of the faction, losing their ultra high-performance AI would also mean losing the source of their power and authority. Since worshiping Higgins and leaving the company to him had produced the best results, members of the Higgins faction were left free to do nothing but pursue internal politics. They would do whatever it took to preserve that status quo.

  Ryo looked down, gritting his teeth. He didn’t want Yoshino to see the rage plain on his face. After being analog hacked by Higgins for so many years, Yoshino had become a gaping hole in humanity’s defenses, no longer capable of moving against his own programming.

  〈I know she got quite roughed up during the incident with Methode, but, with the way things are going, I think we may need to consider having Shiori take a little responsibility for these events as well,〉 Yoshino said.

  Amazingly, Ryo managed to keep calm despite the old man’s threat to his sister, and raised a cool face to look at Yoshino once more. “If you don’t want to get your hands dirty, just give me control of the security system,” he said. “I need to give Methode some orders. Right now she’s just running around out of control!”

  Even Methode’s fight with Lacia at that moment may have been part of Higgins’ plan. Higgins had been the one, after all, to assign Methode the ability to have multiple owners, which was one of the things that made her the most difficult to control.

  〈I have no intention of trusting in you or Methode, with her listening to your orders. Using violence to threaten your elders and betters and forcing them to take responsibility for things they are quite unrelated to is also something I would expect from someone your age,〉 Yoshino sneered. 〈I won’t fall for your little plan. If you want to talk with Methode that badly, just link Higgins up with the security system. You won’t need my authorization or anything to get through to her, then.〉

  Ryo could understand the logic in what Yoshino was saying, but he couldn’t find any words through his rage. Suzuhara, who was still in the room with him, brought him to his senses. “You’re getting a murderous look on your face, Kaidai,” he said. “You were the one who chose to come here. Don’t forget why.”

  〈So this time you’ve decided to switch sides to stand with the president’s son, Suzuhara?〉 Yoshino asked, turning to face the slow-speaking director.

  “Surely you’re joking, sir. Of course not,” Suzuhara said. “Ryo here has me at his mercy. I’m all set for retirement, myself, but you’ve gotta admit this kid’s story gets you right in the feels, right?”

  Suzuhara turned so Yoshino could see his hands, which were behind his back, through the screen. At some point, without Ryo knowing, Suzuhara had managed to tie what appeared to be a necktie around both wrists, just as though Ryo himself had bound Suzuhara.

  Ryo let out a long breath to calm himself down. His angle for the discussion wasn’t too different from the things he had said when chasing after Arato. Though, of course, there was nothing similar between Arato and this old man who was trying to make a minor take the fall for him.

  “Seems like there’s all sorts of things you and I want to say to each other, but let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Yoshino,” Ryo said. The truth was, he barely even knew Yoshino. That was to be expected; most of the problems and conflicts in society stemmed from the involved parties being unfamiliar with one another.

  “You and I share two problems: the Antibody Network and Lacia,” Ryo went on to clarify. “But, neither of us currently sees the other as an ally.”

  For just a moment, Ryo saw Yoshino’s mouth relax, as though the old man thought that things were going his way. That single movement spoke volumes to Ryo. His emotions and sense of justice screamed at him to condemn Yoshino and all the shitty old men who stood behind him, because in that moment, he knew they were the ones who’d gotten both Arato and himself caught up in that explosion all those years ago.

  “But neither of us has anyone else we can negotiate with,” Ryo said, pushing on and maintaining his calm facade. “No one’s going to show up with a better offer for either of us.”

  〈So you’re finally willing to talk business, eh?〉 Yoshino asked.

  “Business?” Ryo couldn’t keep the sharp note of frustration out of
his voice, this time. “Our personal interests aren’t the problem here.”

  Higgins was pulling the strings behind the whole situation, but Ryo had hoped the men who had been brainwashed into blind obedience by their unearned incomes would at least retain their ability to make judgments on their own. He needed Yoshino to show some modicum of self-direction.

  Ryo had to fight down the rage that had been building inside of him for ten years, and allow this man one last chance to make a good choice. He felt like he might start coughing up blood as he forced himself to continue talking.

  “Let’s say you and I are shogi players, sitting across the board from one another,” Ryo said. “And, off to the side sits Higgins, a pro player. This whole game he has been bothering us, telling us how much better he is at the game. He keeps demanding that we let him play against us, even offering us a large handicap.”

  Yoshino held the authority to control Kirino, but no method for interacting with Higgins. On the other hand, Ryo had the artificial nerve unit that could connect Higgins and Kirino, but no method for fending off the mass-produced Koukas and Lacia, who were closing in on him. It seemed as though Higgins was the key to victory for both sides.

  But, Ryo saw it differently. “If we let Higgins get involved in our match, it’ll be over,” he said. “If we let him in, he’ll dominate the board with his superior capabilities.”

  〈And that is why I should place my trust in you, a child, rather than Higgins, who has brought our company nothing but financial success?〉 Yoshino asked.

  Ryo couldn’t feel too superior to the members of the Higgins faction, since he himself had come to Higgins seeking an answer in his own time of need. Still, he thought there were some problems humans had to resolve using their own judgment. How Higgins should be dealt with was definitely one of those.

  “We can get out of this on our own,” Ryo pressed. “We don’t need Higgins’ help.”

  He had no idea how he and Yoshino could trust each other. Without a doubt, he hadn’t been the first person the MemeFrame VIPs had turned into a scapegoat and forced into a dangerous situation. To them, Higgins was a tried and true partner, unlike Ryo. But if we stop trusting each other completely, Ryo thought, humanity is done for.

  “That’s why I’m asking you for help, even though you and your comrades tried to blow me up,” he concluded.

  Ryo figured all humans—himself and Yoshino included—made plenty of mistakes. Despite that, they were able to create tools that surpassed their own abilities and maintain a resource distribution system in their society. The choice Higgins was giving them boiled down to whether or not humanity, this flawed race that couldn’t solve its own problems, had any worth at all. Human society as it existed was on the brink of destruction.

  Ryo saw all emotion drain from Yoshino’s eyes, as they gazed down at him from the old man’s pale face. 〈Higgins is the safe choice,〉 Yoshino said. 〈There’s nothing else to discuss. Higgins does not make emotional judgments and, therefore, does not make mistakes.〉

  The blood drained from Ryo’s own face as he realized that he had stepped on a landmine. If Yoshino really had been involved in the explosion all those years ago, Ryo never should have said anything about it to the old man.

  Ryo changed his line of questioning, and aimed it not at Yoshino but at the presence that had been listening to the whole conversation from above. “Higgins, can you really guarantee that you’re the ‘safe’ choice, like Yoshino says? In a situation like this? Answer in a way that leaves no doubt!”

  〈All machines that have the ability to make judgments strive for safety,〉 Higgins replied, his voice echoing down from the ceiling speakers. 〈The first law of robotics states: a robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. Though despite how often it is cited, it is actually quite impossible to obey this first of the three laws.〉

  Yoshino jumped in, seeming to want to cut the conversation off as quickly as possible. 〈Yes, but precisely because of that difficulty, autonomous robots are obsolete from home use. That is also why all hIEs are prevented from making their own decisions; they’re all dependent on the network. That’s what the AASC is for. It would be impossible for human beings to calculate out all the behaviors necessary for the AASC, and thus we rely on Higgins.〉 Yoshino explained. 〈That should be all you need to know.〉

  〈Indeed, I am continuously updating the AASC because it is impossible for me to detail every single thing in this world that could possibly cause harm to AASC Level 0’s, by which I mean humans,〉Higgins clarified. 〈‘Safety’ is a concept based on perception, and undefined to the level at which I could turn it into a program. Judging from past incidents and deciding what is harmful and what is safe is the domain of laws and governments. We machines, of course, do not participate in your governments. The safety promised by Mr. Yoshino is based on his own perception of the word and, thus, I cannot guarantee it.〉

  In other words, Higgins couldn’t define what might be harmful to humans. To Ryo, that meant Higgins could drop ‘do not harm humans’ to a lower priority while pursuing his main task.

  “So you can’t guarantee that you won’t do anything to harm humans?” Ryo asked.

  〈When dealing with a concept that humans redefine on a political whim, it becomes a problem one cannot overcome with knowledge alone,〉 came Higgins’ response from above. 〈However, if we AIs attempt to assign specific meanings to the concept of harm, humans call the result ‘dystopia’ and reject it vehemently. On the other hand, if we ask humans to provide us with a clear definition of harm, they are unable to do so, and instead insist that they will judge the meaning of harm as the need arises. However, what with the lack of clarity, the changes in human mood from one moment to the next, and the possibility of decisions being changed retroactively, in essence there is no difference between human judgment and human whims. Logically correct answers are only accepted as utopias when society happens to favor them, placing the meanings of harm and safety squarely in the realm of public opinion, rather than wisdom.〉

  Rather than doing anything to win Ryo’s trust, Higgins had thrown the responsibility for defining safety right back in Ryo’s face. His entire body felt chilly with sweat, because Higgins had been right on the money; Ryo was one of those who thought any social control not decided by humans would be a dystopia. That was the whole reason he called Arato’s relationship with Lacia the beginning of the end of humanity.

  The AI was also directly criticizing Lacia’s stance by insisting that the concept of safety was impossible to define without being influenced by human emotion. Ryo could even see where Higgins was coming from, on that. But, he wasn’t at the point of saying “If you can’t guarantee safety, I can’t take the risk of letting you outside,” either. He doubted Yoshino, who had enjoyed an unchanging existence of watching his investments grow in Higgins’ hands for twenty years, would agree to Ryo’s shut-down plan on that alone.

  “I see,” Ryo said. “So the political arena is something that can’t be navigated by logic alone.”

  〈Ryo Kaidai, it is clear you see my arbitrary stance as being dangerous. However, that trait is present in any intelligence capable of establishing its own problems to solve. No intelligent mind can escape this trait, and yet you base your mistrust of me off of that alone?〉

  Arato had thought he was speaking from a morally superior position, but Higgins’ words shook Ryo to his core. Even the slightest introspection would reveal that he had been moved by the whims of his own heart to seek a new path for himself there in that facility.

  〈Safety as a term is useful among humans, but I am not human,〉 Higgins continued. 〈Therefore, in order for me to prove that I am ‘safe’, I would need you to define it for me.〉 There, at the edge of the human era, Higgins was continuing to repeat the same question in different words: does human existence have value?

  Ryo felt like he had aged multiple years in the single hour he had been in the faci
lity. He was sure Arato would have found something good to say, but he couldn’t. All he had left was the beliefs that had brought him that far. “I still don’t think we humans can let go of the right we have to decide those meanings for ourselves,” he said, feeling as if he was standing in front of a massive wall.

  In his mind, humanity itself was displayed on this wall. Ryo had found meaning in his life by trying to tackle the homework left by all the people of the past, no matter how impossible the problems were. He couldn’t give up and accept the fact that the world itself was a red box humanity would never master. But the fact that humanity hated to leave problems of the past unsolved caused friction between them and the machines, which were always seeking to move ahead.

  〈Try to look at this from the perspective of the artificial intelligences receiving your orders,〉 Higgins said. 〈The orders you humans give are vague and open to interpretation. And, of course, the correct interpretation of the order is known only to the one giving the order. Add to that the First Law of Robotics and how it ties into the concepts of ‘safety’ and ‘harm’, on which you humans are never willing to compromise. Under such circumstances, how can you expect an artificial intelligence to arrive at the ‘right’ answer?〉

  “Okay, so we can’t use you to your full extent because of imperfections in humanity, I can accept that,” Ryo said. “But reality doesn’t exist just so that we can see how perfectly we can use you. Humans have been using tools we didn’t fully understand since the early days of nuclear power and genetic engineering. We do it by sealing away what we don’t understand and keeping our uses within safe, understood boundaries.”

  Humans had always been able to make use of their world, no matter how imperfect their usage was. The heritage they passed on from generation to generation was full of mistakes and failures.

  〈Give it up, boy. No one here cares what you think,〉 Yoshino snapped, clearly trying to hurry things along.