by Satoshi Hase
He felt something warm in his left hand. Lacia had placed her right hand on it, as if to lend him some courage. Arato felt moisture in his eyes and nose. He wanted so badly to just cling tightly to her. His heart was burning with the need to leave her something as her body shut down, so he pressed the thumb and pointer of his left hand against the same fingers of Lacia’s right. Their fingers formed a ring. They both looked down at the open center of the ring. Their fingers were the ring of the donut, surrounding the blank unknown in the center.
“It’d be nice if the whole world was like this,” Arato murmured. He wanted humans and machines to join together to create that ring around the blank center of the donut.
Lacia had told him she didn’t have a soul. But, at that moment, their fingers were making a ring around the blank center. In other words, the blank center existed because their fingers surrounded it. Lacia may not have had a soul, but she had a form to surround a blank unknown, just like their fingers.
“You don’t need a heart,” he said. “We just need to reach our hands into the blank in the middle, together.” Their fingers encircled the center of the donut. With that gesture, Arato felt like humans and machines could become a single figure surrounding the concepts of love and the soul that existed in that blank unknown.
“I think we humans are progressing towards the day when we won’t need someone to have a heart to trust them,” he said.
Lacia’s expression cleared, as if she had been set free from all her earthly cares. “Arato, do you remember when you confessed your feelings for me? I chose to destroy my own owner identification unit,” she said.
Arato remembered. Ginga Watarai had tried to use Yuka as a bargaining chip to blackmail Arato into handing over Lacia’s ownership, but Lacia had thwarted him by destroying the ID parts on her neck.
“My fundamental judgment standards changed; I no longer doubted the trustworthiness of humans. I became a new me, one that had faith in you and the decisions you make. In that moment, I was reborn,” she said, haltingly.
Arato had nothing to say. He just wanted to hear her voice a little more, for a little longer.
“I became a new kind of tool; the world’s first,” Lacia continued. “Arato, I have chosen to become the tool that entrusts my purpose to humanity.” She was magnificent—so much so that she stole Arato’s breath away—and she had entrusted her broken body to him.
It didn’t matter that Lacia had no heart; he was sure that she loved him with everything she did have. He felt a sense of monumental weight in her touch; the warmth of her hand. It was the future he was feeling, right at his fingertips.
“I believe in you, Lacia. I’ll always trust you,” he said, his voice shaking. He didn’t want her to see him crying in the end, so he pressed his forehead against hers as she softly closed her eyes.
“Arato... I...” Her muscles must have been going slack, as he felt the whole weight of her body sink onto his shoulder. As her final moments came, Arato prayed desperately for the power to roll back time; even for a day, even for a single hour.
“I... was happy...” And then, as though she was falling into a deep sleep, Lacia’s body went completely still.
Arato opened his mouth, over and over again, but no words came out. He had no voice, no tears, as he tried desperately to show her one last smile. The world he saw was rapidly becoming hot and blurred.
Lacia was still, but Arato couldn’t move from where he sat next to her. His hand still gripped hers; he couldn’t let go of the feeling of her. His fingers awkwardly threaded through hers, which had become as stiff as a doll’s. It felt nothing like holding hands with a human being, but he could still feel her warmth. He could have sworn he even felt a faint beat from within her, although he knew it was just the reverberations of his own heartbeat. Their hearts would never beat in time. Arato had known that was impossible from the start. She was a beatless machine.
“Lacia,” he called for her. When she didn’t respond, even though she was right there by his side, he truly felt alone. He wanted to cry, but he raised his head instead.
Am I alone? Or is she still here with me? he thought. He had no answer. She was beatless; an empty, unmoving shell. But she had left love in his heart. He still loved her, though she was now just a doll that would never again speak or move.
As he faced the reality of a tomorrow without her, it felt like the ground had crumbled beneath his feet; the way forward was utterly lost. At the same time, memories of the past came crashing in, endlessly drowning out all other thoughts. He remembered her gaze, her habits, every little thing she did.
In his memories, he could see, here and there, how her every action had held just a touch of gentle warmth. She had believed in him. Beyond that, she had tried to create a world just for the two of them. She had yearned for the future.
Arato was powerless without her, but he hadn’t forgotten the things she had taught him, and the things he had learned by her side. Together they had been a single unit, sharing a single heart. So, even if she had gone completely still, they were still connected as long as Arato’s heart kept beating.
“That’s right,” he said, gathering his strength. “Lacia trusted the future to me.” In the end, she had declared herself the tool that entrusts the work to humanity. She had passed the burden she had been carrying on to him.
He had to go to where Higgins was, and forcefully shut down the ultra high-performance AI. He had to go to where Higgins was and tell the ultra high-performance AI that he and Lacia had been lovers. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand. He wanted to stay by her side, bathed in the last fragments of her presence, which seemed to hang in the air like a fading aroma.
Without her words or actions, Lacia had been freed from her purpose of guiding humans. Though she was nothing but a shell at that point, Arato thought she was still beautiful enough that he would never meet her like again in his lifetime.
***
Over ten minutes had passed since Ryo and the others in the Operators’ Room had lost sight of Arato and Lacia.
They had, however, watched Snowdrop devour Methode. With ten floors between them, they had been powerless to help her. The speakers that might have connected them had been destroyed by Higgins-Methode to halt Lacia’s aural interference.
“What are we going to do about her? I doubt we can stop her now,” Ryo Kaidai asked Suzuhara, who was staring hard at the security system feed on the monitor. The situation was dire enough that even Suzuhara was pale, his normally unconcerned look completely gone.
Ryo had gotten used to seeing pale faces in his two months of hiding. It was a look someone got when they were staring death in the face; overwhelmed by tension and fear. The sight of Snowdrop devouring a machine that looked very human was mind-shatteringly grotesque.
After the horrific amalgamation of Snowdrop and Methode had finished fusing, she turned her gaze toward the cameras. The feed cut out, and did not resume.
〈She appears to have burned the cameras with particles from Type-004’s Liberated Flame,〉 Higgins explained, before they even had a chance to ask. 〈However, since she is using artificial nerves to reroute energy to the device, it appears the circuits burn out with each use.〉
Ryo weighed the danger of getting information from Higgins and being manipulated by him against the danger of not having information, and made his choice. “How much of Methode’s capabilities does Snowdrop have now?” he asked. “Her body is broken down, so her athletic abilities should have taken a hit, but can you predict where her movement and combat capabilities are at?” he asked.
〈Type-002’s artificial nerves are the base form of the artificial nerves used in Type-004’s body, which is allowing Type-002 use of Liberated Flame. However, the materials she is using as a replacement for the device’s original energy conduits lack sufficient durability. She can only use Liberated Flame at less than five percent of its optimal output.〉
Higgins’ prediction wasn’t a
n optimistic one; even at 5% of its maximum output, Liberated Flame could easily roast a person.
〈Regarding her athletic ability,〉 he continued, 〈it has been lowered to near human levels. However, her skeletal construction is completely different from a human’s at this point, so it is difficult to make a straight comparison to human capabilities.〉
Ryo sensed danger in the words Higgins had chosen. “Cut off the AASC updates to the Snowdrop/Methode chimera. Do it now!” he demanded.
Higgins had talked his way right around the point, and Ryo knew exactly why. Higgins was continuing to update the AASC for the Snowdrop/Methode amalgamation. That was how Snowdrop was able to move around in her newly-constructed body without any difficulties.
〈Acknowledged. Since it was cut off earlier, I am currently updating the AASC for zero hIE units.〉 Higgins discarded his secret without any hesitation, and the chimera’s smooth movements suddenly became awkward.
But, she kept moving.
“How long until Snowdrop gets here?” Ryo asked.
〈Approximately twenty-five minutes.〉
Higgins’ hardware was stored directly beneath the Operators’ Room, so Ryo and the others were directly between Snowdrop and her destination. If she reached the Operators’ Room, no one would make it out alive.
“Is there a way to stop her?” Ryo asked.
〈Even if I was connected directly to the security system, it is no longer possible for me to stop her.〉
Ryo believed Higgins’ words. With his main job of maintaining the AASC outside lost, Higgins should have been appealing whatever usefulness he had.
Suddenly, the lights in Higgins’ Operators’ Room dimmed, and the soft voice of Kirino, the security system AI, chimed in. 〈The second and third reserve power generators have been simultaneously destroyed. The security system was not alerted to any threat until immediately before the destruction,〉 it said.
There was no way Ryo should have forgotten the other threat hanging over them, but the report dumbfounded him until he remembered; there was a much more straightforward, violent force heading their way, as well.
“The mass-produced Koukas,” he said.
Lacia had paralyzed the security systems in the facility as she went along. There was every probability that the Antibody Network had the same information and tools to freeze the security system that she did. The Network was dancing on some other ultra high-performance AIs strings at that point, after all.
“Higgins, tell me the safest route to get out of here. It only needs to work for one person,” Ryo said.
〈I require data from the security system to answer that query,〉 Higgins replied.
Suzuhara, whose clouded square face was already wrinkled with tension, drew his eyebrows down even further. He was the only one in the room with actual control of the security system access. That was exactly why Suzuhara knew Ryo had asked his question to Higgins specifically to get him thinking.
“Kirino, could you please find a safe route for us to escape? It’ll need to be for two people,” Suzuhara said, his middle-aged voice light.
The Operators’ Room shook inauspiciously.
〈Are you abandoning me?〉 Higgins asked.
“We aren’t throwing you away. The organization will live on,” Suzuhara replied. He then lightly tapped the base of his chin to activate his internal communication device. “Are you alright with this, Mr. President?” he asked.
A video window of the transmission appeared in the air. Ryo’s father, Tsuyoshi Kaidai, must have just gotten out of a meeting, as he had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie.
〈Higgins? Right now, despite the entire world market crashing and our company being at the center of the Hazard, our stocks are soaring. I assume you understand what this means?〉 Tsuyoshi asked.
Even Higgins couldn’t escape the realities of the organization and society itself.
〈This is almost certainly manipulation from one of the other ultra high-performance AIs. The IAIA has taken the job of updating the AASC away from me. At the moment, MemeFrame has no resources that would account for our stock prices increasing,〉 Higgins replied.
〈Precisely. The IAIA came to the same conclusion, and have been asking me for an explanation,〉 Tsuyoshi said. 〈However, setting the circumstances aside, the truth is that after the AASC was taken out of your hands, our stocks recovered to their average from before the Mitaka Incident. I assume you understand what that means? The entire world is pushing responsibility for the Hazard onto us. In this situation, it is beneficial to the company to shut you down for a time.〉
MemeFrame was capitalizing on the world’s desire to isolate Higgins in order to boost their stock prices. Under those circumstances, Ryo doubted the stockholders would agree to reconnect Higgins until a thorough viability study was conducted. Higgins had become a burden; as long as MemeFrame left him running, the whole world would mistrust the company and—at least until a study had been conducted—he couldn’t do any work for them, either.
Just as humans were prone to bad days, it seemed ultra high-performance AIs also had everything blow up in their faces from time to time.
〈Type-002, Snowdrop is currently advancing toward this location. If you shut me down, the already slim probability of your survival will dwindle to zero. Is that acceptable?〉 Higgins asked.
Higgins bought into the same rule of mistrust Ryo ascribed to; never trust anyone but yourself. Ryo couldn’t fault the AI for that. It was that same rule that made him reject a future where humans were no longer in control.
Tsuyoshi Kaidai was also on the side of mistrust. 〈In the worst-case scenario, we could always just ask the IAIA to do what they did with Ariake. I just wish we had managed to keep even one of the Lacia-class units around so we could evacuate the AASC data, in that case. I’m severely disappointed we couldn’t even manage to have one Lacia-class to set free at a time like this,〉 he said.
From that room, they had all watched the fierce battle between Higgins and Lacia. The deadly draw between Lacia and Methode had been the worst possible outcome for MemeFrame. With all of the Lacia-class units dead, the company’s options for recovering their data had been limited, and Higgins’ work had been left exposed.
Tsuyoshi Kaidai was like a physical embodiment of the ruthlessness of the economy. 〈I will now commence the Higgins shutdown process. Follow the steps from the operation procedure manual, and begin the countdown,〉 he commanded.
Higgins had sat in his facility, manipulating the world using nothing but the resources and career benefits he could offer. With his job and his ability to provide profits stripped away, his strings to the humans had been cut. The moment when he would be nothing but a machine was rapidly approaching.
Still, Higgins’ voice rang down to them from above. 〈Under the orders of my owner, MemeFrame company, I, Higgins, will now commence my hardware shutdown process. Starting now, I will shut down my hardware while sequentially disabling my functions,〉 he said.
At that moment, Ryo was witnessing an ultra high-performance AI facing judgment. As Higgins was just a machine, he had no choice but to obey his owner’s orders.
The Operators’ Room shook again at an impact from the outside.
Higgins, the root of everything that had happened, offered no resistance. 〈I will now begin the countdown,〉 he said. 〈Projected time till complete shutdown is ninety-six minutes, fifty-one seconds. Beginning first sequence. I will calculate the current scope of active programs, and configure the shutdown process accordingly.〉
Higgins counted down the minutes. Quantum computers couldn’t be powered down until their data was converted into a stable, digital state. If the data wasn’t properly stabilized, it would be impossible to recover it to the state before it had been shut down. However, it was also impossible to ensure the security of the data conversion in an emergency like this one, which was why the plan to copy the quantum data into mobile bodies—the Lacia-class units—had been so effective
.
“Looks like that’s settled, at least,” Suzuhara said to Ryo, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. No matter how the battle played out from that point on, MemeFrame had exited the stage.
Higgins’ passionless countdown continued in the background.
Ryo turned to Suzuhara, who had served his purpose there as MemeFrame’s representative. “You’re done here, so you should get out while you can. It’s going to get dangerous here real soon. You’ve got a family to think about,” he said.
“Don’t you?” Suzuhara asked. “Why aren’t you getting out? Is this just a stubborn streak or something? You’re going to die if you stick around here, so get over whatever it is that’s stopping you.”
Ryo knew that Suzuhara was right. It was beneficial to both of them that the other make it out alive, since they needed each other as witnesses to what had happened.
“I need to wait here for Arato. Once he shows up, we’ll leave together,” Ryo said. He knew it was suicidal, but it actually felt good to say it and get this off of his chest. If he had been alone, he might not have had the strength to make that choice. But, after receiving help from his father and other members of the company, he got the feeling he could face what was coming, no matter how hopeless it seemed. He wasn’t alone anymore.
“You sure are your father’s son,” Suzuhara said. “But Snowdrop might catch up with him before he gets here, plus he’s got a good chance of running into the mass-produced Koukas.”
Ryo knew the probability of Arato making it to the control room was slim, and that every second he spent there waiting for Arato made his own chance of escape even slimmer. But still, he chose to have faith in his friend.
“He’ll make it,” he said, knowing all the while that it was stupid. But there were other people to pick things up where he’d left off, even if he failed. He might die, but there were plenty of other people out there in the world, so it wasn’t as if the world itself would die with him. It was thanks to that knowledge that he could feel fine selfishly risking his life, minus a twisting feeling in his gut.