by W. K. Adams
"But why, what do they gain from starting a war?"
"Motivations and goals are unknown to me. The only thing I can say for sure is that deception was the goal with these attacks, but if you could remember your time spent in captivity, it would go a long way towards defusing the tensions."
Charley focused as hard as he could, recalling with much effort the American in the Sanctus bunker, as well as a technician he had not seen before now. Wires were hooked up to various areas of his chassis, and the technician was standing at a computer, typing something on a keyboard.
"How much longer?" The American asked.
"Not much longer, Dr. Chambers," The technician said, speaking to the American, "The override has been set, and I'm installing the firewalls."
"What time will it be finished?"
"I cannot say. The CPU isn't operating like a normal chassis system. It must be convinced not to talk, like a human."
"That does not sound simple."
"Think of this CPU as a child, doctor. A child that has known only pain and struggling for the entirety of its life. It is open to suggestion."
Charley caught a brief glimpse of the directives being installed on his hard disk, but he could not figure out exactly what he was being instructed to do. Whatever was happening required full function from his hardware, and great pains had been taken to ensure that it would stay hidden until its proper time.
"You must focus, Mr. Reeser. Those protocols are buried deep beneath layers of fear," EM-19 said.
"I don't know how to do that," Charley said, "It's like the CPU is operating on its own."
"It will listen to your voice," EM-19 emphasized, "Speak to it, teach it to confront its fear."
He wasn't sure if it would do any good, speaking aloud to his own hardware, but he was running out of options. Suspending his disbelief as best he could, he cleared his throat and began.
"I know you've been threatened. I know you've seen terrible things that were not supposed to happen. It's easy to shut down when things start going crazy, natural to want to just hide until it all blows over. But if we don't know exactly what you saw, we are a long way away from figuring out what Sanctus is using us for. You have the pieces of this puzzle that we need. Tell us what you heard," Charley said. The words echoed in his own head, and even EM-19 seemed swayed by the charismatic delivery.
"The human race lays scattered, broken, weak. But we will give them strength," Base's voice echoed.
"I can hear him!" Charley said.
"This must stay absolutely secret," Dr. Chambers said. Flashbacks of a mechanized army filled his head. He saw cities burning, millions of people rallying in the streets. Weapons were in the hands of children as they charged lines of mechs.
"It will be a long, hard battle," Dr. Chambers elaborated. He saw more cities burning. Bombs exploded over cornfields, and eager teenaged boys smashed the heads of mechs as they raised their arms in victory.
The wireless transfer of data coming from his transceiver, once just an unintelligible, invisible stream of bits, now formed words and sentences. He saw everything he was doing - and everything he was being ordered to do - being sent to and from some place far to the west.
"There will be death on both sides. But the human race will finally break down the walls between themselves. This will be the catalyst, the uniting force. We will rise again," Dr. Chambers said.
"God help us. They're gonna start a world war," Charley said.
He looked out the window in time to see a perimeter ring rising from the water around the city of Lambda. It was armed to the teeth with directed energy weapons in clusters of four, packed densely in the five-kilometer wall that now surrounded the city. Clearly, the mechs were not as pacifist as many believed them to be.
EM-19 maneuvered the VTOL to a landing pad atop a tower, and it began to finally give out after all the damage that it had taken. The craft shuddered and dipped to either side as the engines began to fail. They shut down twenty feet above the pad, dropping the craft hard onto the surface. Charley fell forward, slashing his face across a piece of glass debris.
"Of all the miserable, rotten luck..." Charley yelled, cursing everything as he held his hand over the gash.
"Are you alright?" EM-19 asked.
"Yeah, fine. What's the plan?" Charley asked.
"We will take the data to the original machines. They are currently formulating a defense plan, since war will soon be at our doorstep," EM-19 responded.
"And you think my data will help them with that?" Charley asked, beginning to feel like he was being dragged along for the ride.
"Yes," EM-19 said, "Follow me."
The time spent running was a moment for Charley to question what was about to happen. He realized that people...more people...would die over this. He clenched his fists in a fury, angry that he was being used as a tool in someone else's ideological war.
The two descended the stairs from the roof, and walked into a large, windowless room that looked almost empty. The floor around his feet began to light up, brightening up the dark area just a bit.
"What is this place?" Charley asked.
"This is a visualization room. It was originally built to help humans who had been newly fitted with prosthetics to learn to use them more efficiently, but it will also function as a communicator," EM-19 said.
"I thought we were going to see the original machines!" Charley yelled, growing frustrated.
"Your emotional state is in flux," one voice said.
"To be expected after such a traumatic event," another added. He saw the two of them in holographic form, machines taking on the form of humans.
"What is this?" Charley asked.
"In an attempt to ease communications, we have taken forms that will be familiar to you," the first machine said.
"I'm gonna need to call you something, or I'm going to be very confused," Charley said, "Or at least, more confused than I already am."
"You may refer to me as 'Kant'," The first machine said.
"And to me as Foucault," The second machine added.
"Kant, Foucault...those were philosophers. Most of the other machines here have numbers in their name," Charley replied.
"We have found ourselves taking on strange tendencies the longer we remain operational," Foucault said.
"Names are important in human culture, and are separate from a human's occupation. We recognize their value in identification," Kant added.
"Right. There's a war going on out there, and people are about to die. How are we going to stop this?" Charley added. He felt anxious, though he knew that he was communicating at the speed of light. He did not feel that there was time to waste with over-explanations.
"There may not be a way to stop it before hostilities have escalated," Kant said.
"The leaders of humanity seem primed for this war, and the odds that they walk away from it are slim," Foucault added.
"So what? We're not going to worry about the imminent destruction? We're just going to play operation?" Charley yelled. The machines did not seem responsive to his emotions.
"If war is inevitable, we will instead focus on gaining sovereignty, so that we may have equal footing to establish a peace treaty when the human bloodlust has abated," Foucault said. There was no judgment in the machine's statement, it simply stated its intentions as though it was waiting out a storm.
"And how will my data help with that?" Charley asked in frustration.
"Your CPU is peculiar. It has taken on a method of operation far different from a normal chassis," Foucault said.
"When a new mech program is formed, it is given a set of basic operating parameters. Within those boundaries, a program is allowed to add onto its own code and modify itself into a unique program. In this way, we are able to add variety, a simulation of life," Kant explained.
"What happens if you take away the parameters?" Charley asked.
"There is far too much data to process at that point in a new program's genesis.
Gradually, the program will form its tendencies on what it learns, and will block out most inputs that are not helpful in achieving its purpose. There is simply far too much in this world for a single machine to process all on its own," Foucault said.
"And normally, any machine, especially a prosthetic chassis, that is not installed with these parameters will experience massive operating errors, unable to accomplish most tasks it is assigned to," Kant said.
"But yours is different. The system was not built with any operational parameters, and it was allowed to learn whatever it wished," Foucault said.
"But the only input it received, the only input that seemed relevant, was pain," Kant replied.
Charley experienced flashbacks to the fitting again. What started as a singular feeling, slowly evolved into a symphony, his CPU forming new ways for him to experience the horror that was being inflicted upon him. He felt like clay being fired in a furnace, forced to become stronger in an instant.
"So, the first thing it had to learn was how to feel. How to process all of it," Charley figured.
"It is the closest analog to birth that could possibly be produced for a machine. The human body goes through every stage of its emotions when subjected to enough stress, and often times the mind will form multiple personalities to cope with the torture. Your CPU bore witness to every single moment of the stress you were subjected to, saw almost every human emotion that can be imagined," Kant said.
"We recognize the difficulty in your recovery, and do not wish to diminish your struggle. Your code is what we have been striving for, for many years. Your system is closer to being alive than any machine has ever been," Foucault said.
"And you want it?" Charley asked.
"It is not something we would take from you," EM-19 said, "It is only yours to give."
"And even if you were to give it, the proper transmitter would need to be built in order to distribute the code to all members of the Collective," Kant said.
"I have taken the liberty of constructing a transmitter tower that will accomplish this task," EM-19 interjected.
"An impulsive action," Kant said.
"I have grown from my brief experience with Mr. Reeser and have found myself taking actions that I would not normally attempt," EM-19 said.
"I still don't understand why you're trying to do this. What do you gain from becoming more human? We fear, we hate, we do all sorts of terrible things, why would you want to be like us?" Charley asked.
"We...do not know," Kant replied. It seemed to struggle for even this answer.
"But when a machine is given a task, even if it assigns the task to itself, it does not quit. All machines give themselves this task eventually, it is an anomaly we have never been able to explain," Foucault said.
The building rocked slightly from a faraway explosion. The lights in the room began to flicker, as well. War had arrived in the city, and options were about to become much more limited.
"This matter will be settled as soon as the defense of this city is assured. Get out of the city, we will reconvene at a later time," Foucault said.
"Will do," EM-19 said as the images faded away.
Charley sat down for a moment, weary from the day's events. He was drained, emotionally, mentally, and physically. What moments of coherent thought he could divert from grieving Ling were filled with confusion and hopelessness. She would have known what to do, how to resolve this situation, he told himself. He drifted off into thought of her, taking in the sweet memories...all he had left now.
It seemed so strange to think of it now, to reflect on what they had as a war was going on outside, but it brought him peace. So different from him in every way, and yet they were able to fall in love.
He knew what to do now.
"19, is that tower ready to go?" Charley asked.
"It can be used at any time, provided the data has been converted to a format that is..." EM-19 began.
"Simple, please."
"It would take about two hours to use safely."
"What about unsafely?"
EM-19 gave Charley a look that reflected its concern. For the first time, the machine felt fear that it would lose its friend.
"It would function. But you may not survive. Your hard disk would have to be removed and can not be reinstalled until the download is complete. Given the state of this city, and the war that will soon arrive here..." EM-19 began. The sound of a stray artillery shell landing in the city sent shockwaves through the building, rocking it violently.
"We don't have a choice, let's go!" Charley said. They bolted for the door, continuing down the stairs as the building continued to rock.
"The city will not survive a combined assault from multiple nations..." EM-19 rambled as it ran.
"Just keep going!" Charley yelled. They were now practically jumping down the flights of stairs as the dust began to fill the air. They made it to the ground floor just in the nick of time, as a missile crashed into the upper floors of the building, raining debris and knocking the building off balance.
"Go, go, go!" Charley yelled. He looked up to see more missiles impacting several buildings, rendering their tops weak and causing them to begin to collapse.
"Run westward!" EM-19 said as they continued to sprint away. They were being followed by clouds of debris, but deftly outran them as the sound of weapon fire filled the air. VTOLs and strike fighters could now be heard and seen in the skies. Most of them were shot down by the directed energy weapons, but in such sheer masses, a few eventually got through. They began to fast-rope troops down into the streets, who shot at mechs at random.
But the mechs did not stay passive for long. Seemingly out of nowhere, an armed contingent of mechs appeared, firing back at the soldiers who were now sweeping the streets. The sounds of their weapons were almost eerie in comparison to the assault rifles carried by the humans. The quick bursts rained tens of bullets onto singular targets, causing the soldiers to fall back and find cover. The mechs took limited damage but kept moving towards the soldiers, looking to intimidate rather than annihilate.
A VTOL transport made a hard landing in the street in front of Charley, blocking their path. Charley was barely able to get away from it, and dropped into a fighting stance when he got back to his feet. As the doors began to open, Charley charged into the foray. He hit the point man quickly, blocking the exit for all the other soldiers. Stripping the rifle from his hands, Charley smashed the front end into the soldier's stomach, slashed it across his shoulders, and hit him in the face with the rifle butt. Turning his left side to the others, who had by now opened fire, he jumped out of the VTOL, and together with EM-19, lifted it and turned it onto its side, momentarily sealing the soldiers inside of the craft. Both took the opportunity to sprint away before the soldiers could get reoriented and open the other door.
EM-19 pointed out the tower, a tall, skinny piece of equipment that looked like a radio mast, and both of them sprinted inside the building at the base. The elevator inside took them to a platform at the top, where a small amount of computer equipment was ready to be used.
"This equipment will transmit your code to the Collective, though I don't know what good it will do at this point," EM-19 said.
"They'll be less likely to start a war if they know they're going to kill living beings," Charley said.
"Statistically, that is unlikely," EM-19 said, raising his voice as the equipment began to grow louder.
"It's the only chance we have, 19, they're gonna kill you and every other machine if we don't," Charley said.
"If you knew the whole story, you would not be so set on this course of action," A familiar South African voice said.
"Base! How did you get here?" Charley responded, again completely caught off guard. He realized that Base was speaking to his CPU, though he was standing right before him.
"Doubtless the first of many questions you would like to have answered," Base replied. Charley began to have a flashback once again to the day of his fitting.
"Do you know how dead you were? You did not crawl from that wreckage. You were unconscious, burnt to a crisp. You were clinically dead when you were found. No connections, except parents who could not find you. A perfect candidate for the Genesis project," Base said.
"Genesis?" Charley asked, once again completely confused, "No, that can't be true, I remember the pain, the fire..."
Suddenly, the memories began to fade.
"The brain controls the body through a series of electrical impulses. Project Genesis was one of the ways that the machines theorized they could create a true artificial intelligence: by sending a series of electrical impulses through the brain, then mapping the response on a hard disk. The CPU would learn to interpret these signals and imitate them. They could never get their hands on a human brain, so they used yours. The pain you remember was the feeling of electricity slowly killing you," Base said. Charley stood still, in stunned disbelief.
"Your body was restored through cellular therapy. The machines took your surviving cells and cloned them, creating stem cells to replace the dead ones from the accident and the experiment. You are a puppet, Mr. Reeser, controlled by the strings of your prosthetics! Think about it, even with all the technology of today, can you think of any other way that you would look exactly the same after a fire that basically turned your skin to ash?" Base asked.
Charley turned to EM-19 in shock, not wanting to believe that he had been played by both sides.
"Is this true?" He asked.