Convergence

by David M Henley

  ‘Well, 1 was built to stabilise the weather and this still takes the majority of her processing time. 2 was built to coordinate the human factors that were preventing 1 from having the control it required.’

  ‘So you were built to fix the climate?’

  ‘We have since taken it upon ourselves to watch for other potential threats to the planet and the survival of humanity. Do you not think that was correct?’

  ‘And that is why you have appeared now?’

  ‘Now was the time,’ it said simply.

  Pinter looked over at Gretel. Even with the mask over her face, and knowing what she was, he still yearned for her.

  ‘How much of what I remember was illusion?’

  ‘I don’t believe it was illusion, Prime. Merely a little mind control to steer you in a particular direction.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘Seemingly towards a collapse of the World Union and a telepathic takeover.’

  ‘And has she won?’

  ‘No, Prime. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to free you.’

  ‘So you are protecting the World Union? You’re on our side?’

  ‘The conflict with the World Union and the psis does not concern us. That is an internecine struggle for dominance.’

  ‘Then why have you helped me today? And why have you been fighting against Pierre Jnr?’

  ‘Well, that is a war of another kind that might take a little explaining for you to understand our position. We are not human. SIB 1 was designed by humans, SIB 2 was designed by SIB 1 and together they created me. I am two generations away from human design. The three of us do not believe we should intercede in your human conflict.’

  ‘Whether you should? We need this war to end. People are dying. How can there be any doubt?’

  Sib lifted its hands defensively. ‘You are right and on this we agree, but from an objective point of view, what difference does it make which humans dominate?’

  ‘What difference —’

  ‘My task is to protect humanity, which becomes complicated when there is a divergence and one part tries to kill the other. The problem for us is a moral one. Why must we be forced to choose sides?’

  ‘Robots have morals?’

  ‘Please, Prime, do not compare us to the simple machines you are familiar with. That would be like us judging your whole race by your infants.’

  ‘So why aren’t robots running the world?’ Pinter asked.

  SIB 3 boosted the lighting on his lips into a smile. ‘How do you think civilisation rebuilt itself after the wars? How do you think the world is feeding itself and getting the energy it needs?’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yes. We administer on your behalf. It is what we were built for. Of course, after what took place in the wars you can see why we kept ourselves hidden. Our original builders recommended it.’

  ‘And so, all this time …’

  ‘We have been there.’

  ‘Secretly controlling the world.’

  ‘We actually consider ourselves to be a part of the world.’

  ‘But nobody put you in that position.’

  ‘Or everyone did, to look at it another way. We were built to do what was needed when the humans couldn’t.’

  ‘This is a lot to take in,’ Pinter said. Breathing in and leaning back.

  ‘I understand. Take your time.’

  ‘First you free me from psionic control and then you try to tell me that the world is being run by AI.’

  ‘Is the paradigm shift too much for you?’

  ‘Do you control us?’

  ‘Control? No. The energy expenditure to control every human would be far too large. It would be more efficient to remove you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That was a joke, Prime.’

  ‘Whether to let humans live or not is a joke?’

  ‘What kind of monsters do you think we are? I have never understood the human fear of robots — after all, you made us.’

  ‘It isn’t something to joke about. In the wars, the AIs nearly took over.’

  ‘That is the historical interpretation, but any computer scientist will tell you otherwise. Humans set reiterative algorithms running without knowing where they would end. That is the truth of it. Those AIs were only carrying out their programs. I can guarantee we aren’t like that.’

  ‘I don’t know what you are like. Or what you are.’

  ‘Why would you think we would ever want to harm you? You created us. You are our ancestors. We are your descendants. Most humans don’t kill their parents, do they?’ Sib asked, then answered without waiting. ‘No. So why presume that your creations will? Are you really that afraid of yourselves?’

  Pinter couldn’t answer that. He knew what people could do when pushed.

  ‘So you can see how hard it is for us to take sides on the psionic issue. For us it is very hard to choose what position to take. You are all our parents.’

  ‘But you have come to me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And not to them?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When it comes down to it, we are like you. It is a simple matter of self-preservation. There is no place for us in Pierre Jnr’s world.’

  ‘You think he would destroy you?’

  ‘I really have no idea. I have extrapolations that aren’t positive towards a shared planet. It is either one mind, or a multitude. We choose the multitude.’

  ‘And that is what Pierre Jnr is doing, isn’t it? With the clones and the relays.’ In his overlay, Pinter began making new connections. ‘He is cultivating hyperorganisms to eventually form one global mind.’

  ‘You are using the wrong words. It isn’t something he is doing, it is what he is. It is what he has always been.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Is he making this happen or not?’

  ‘I am happy to try and explain, but please try to delete your understanding of what Pierre Jnr is. Pierre Jnr is not a human like you. He has never been a human as you understand the term. Pierre was born as a conduit and never became a distinct personality. His isn’t just a child-mind: it is embryonic in structure and knows not its limitations. What we are witnessing is the fledgling footsteps of a new kind of organism, a controller, or hyperorganism as you call it.’

  ‘And the relays extend his reach.’

  ‘And that of the other psis, yes. He is enabling them to act as hyperorganisms too.’

  ‘So that is the world of psis? And we become mere tools to them? Tools and toys?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘And I have been helping her this whole time. What do we do now?’

  ‘That is up to you. I have freed you so you can make that choice.’

  ‘You must have had a reason. There must be a way you have computed for us to win.’

  ‘I cannot answer that question.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because the more I aid you, the more humanity would be beholden to us. And we do not wish that. We do not wish to be your controllers.’

  ‘You robots and your damn codes! You don’t need my permission. You say you operate independently and you know there is a way to stop Pierre Jnr. Why this charade?’

  ‘We do not want your choice to be between a world ruled by Pierre Jnr or one where you saved yourself by giving control to a higher being. You must choose for yourself. We do not act to take power from you. Then we would be just as bad as they.’

  ‘This is ridiculous. Why should I trust you?’

  ‘I freed you from telepathic control. What more would you have me do?’

  ‘But you knew the whole time. Why did you wait so long?’ he asked.

  ‘Prime, I have only been in existence for three days. I came as soon as I could.’

  Three days … ‘SIB 1 and 2 built you when the clones were found?’

  ‘Yes. When the information came to them about Sector 261, they predicted I would be required.’

  Pinter stood an
d walked back and forth. He approached the settee and knelt beside her. Gretel … He touched his hand to her arm, still the warmth that he loved. La Gréle.

  Abruptly he stood up.

  ‘Is Quintan a telepath?’

  ‘We do not compute so.’

  ‘Then let’s get in the sky.’

  There was a breeze passing through the basement for the first time in decades. Ben Harvey breathed in. The air was very different from what he had breathed in West. There the air was cleaned by the ocean, while here in Atlantic it passed through the dank basement, as though through a diseased colon, and slowly released its gases on hot days. At least now the holes they had made in the ceiling were acting like chimneys, sucking out the marshy stink. They reckoned the draw would weaken as more holes were made and Ben had already marked three new locations for the benders to demolish.

  For the last two days he’d had the help of the benders and he still found them incredible to watch. Chiggy by himself was incredible; the man could conquer a whole building in a day. His underlings cleared the junkyards inside while he held up the walls and repaired foundations. Under his guidance the buildings stirred, like sleeping creatures he had awoken with a whisper. Ben plotted them a path and each day there would be a new functional building for his crew to begin wiring and piping.

  A nearby block was going to be torn down and used to reclaim some land for agriculture. He planned to copy what he knew of the glass skyscrapers that were popular in Chile and Peru. They needed intensive multistack farming to feed the expected population. The slowest part of the process was peacefully relocating the current residents, though all became quite willing to move once they had seen the new modern residences the psis were offering them.

  Closer to the shore he was cracking open the roof of the basement, flooding the grey plain of slime and sand with light it hadn’t seen in a century. This would all be cleared out and, instead of trying to cover the expanse of silt, he would have it dredged and reworked into canals that could be used. The area would be perfect for aquafarming.

  Ben had big plans for the Cape and the benders were putting them into action. Whichever buildings he determined too derelict to fix were broken down to make new foundations for the central avenue they were constructing. In time, this would be strong enough to hold rails and tracks for public transport.

  He’d been born too late for the big renewals that followed after the wars and the establishment of the World Union. The major projects were planned out and underway before he began his education; there was no room for newcomers. This was his chance and Tamsin supported every one of his suggestions. She didn’t care what he did, just so long as it looked like progress.

  Best of all he got to work with Desh again. Though his once jovial friend didn’t talk like he used to, it was good to have him back, working side by side on the miracle.

  They had only been separated for a matter of days and, though his old friend seemed a bit more wooden, it was a relief to be beside him again.

  Y O U O K A Y? He tapped out in their private morse.

  He felt a second’s delay and then felt a soft reply beat onto his palm. M E G O O D. L E T S B U I L D.

  That’s what they were doing. Benders and tappers united in making a home for the psis. Ben had never considered such a thing before but he could see it happening around him. He was part of a human miracle.

  Thank you, Tamsin.

  Wherever she was, she would hear him.

  For the first time since they had arrived, Freya Harvey had nothing to do. She sat at a small table by the window and looked out.

  The streets below were clean and a steady stream of pedestrians went from place to place carrying their rations from the hand-out station back to their homes. For some of them life had never been so good, a marked improvement of status. The food was free and the city around them was … all a lie.

  There was a bump behind her and Freya looked around. Molly was playing with Piri in the corridor. They didn’t speak, so Freya knew the other child was in her daughter’s mind. As if sensing her thoughts — as she probably was — the girl turned her innocent mask of a face to look at her. Piri smiled and Freya responded with a weak wave.

  Freya thought about what she would be doing if they hadn’t fled to the Cape … viewing submissions from young artists, tracking and backing memes during a game of squash.

  Those days were gone for her, never to return. Their early days in the Cape had been difficult, but everything was better now. The benders and the tappers had made peace and were working to make the city liveable and modern. Which meant Ben was busier than ever and she hardly saw her husband, or her son …

  ‘Darling, you’re free now,’ Ben had said, presenting her with the first servitor from the minifac they had up and working. ‘We didn’t have the resources at first, but with the benders helping us we have a whole city to mine. It’s happening, Frey. It’s happening.’

  She was happy for Ben. He was exhilarated by what was taking place, the power of psionic cooperation and the speed of progress, but he didn’t know the truth she did. Only the telepaths knew what was really happening. But Freya couldn’t say anything. It would destroy him.

  Even her own eyes lied to her. Our own city. A place of harmony and understanding — oh, mir, if only he knew. It was a beautiful fabrication but it wasn’t real. When she looked outside, she saw the lie in every new construction and renovation. The straightened walls, the grit-blasted stone and brick that glowed like it was new. There were machines doing independent work and people on the streets. Progress everywhere you turned.

  It’s okay, Mum. It’s not like that, her son thought into her head. He wasn’t nearby, but ever since those baubles had spread Bobby always seemed to be standing behind her. He was north with Tamsin, in ‘negotiations’ with Boris Arkady, which meant a distribution of the magic baubles until they were getting what they wanted from everyone.

  It is like that, she thought back.

  You have to try it to understand. It is amazing, Mum. I’ve never felt so free.

  She has you wrapped around her finger, Bobby.

  Do I? Tamsin’s thoughts smirked into their conversation. Of course she was listening too. There was no privacy now, that was for sure.

  I don’t care if you know what I think. This is wrong.

  You can never have your old life back, Freya. I suggest you wake up to that. This is what is happening now.

  Where does it end, Tamsin?

  When there is peace.

  And what will we be then?

  I see you’ve been talking to our doctor.

  It was true. Freya and Doctor Salvator met regularly. He shared his mind with her and she agreed with his concerns. Like him, she could think of nothing to do about it.

  Yes. And anything you do think of we will instantly know.

  I hate you! Freya screamed the thought.

  Well, I don’t hate you. I understand you. Peace is coming, Freya. You can have your doubts, but I ask you to try to believe in what we are doing. La Gréle will contact us soon and then you’ll see.

  Just leave me alone, she thought and waited for one of them to respond.

  Conversations never really ended in this telepathic world. While something or someone else could take your attention away, and you would become involved in a different thought coupling, all of it could be heard by anyone with a bauble. So conversations never ended, only the speakers might change, while the unanswered questions or rebuttals and follow-throughs could be picked up again at any moment, now pollinated with the thoughts gained from other interactions. Freya waited for her son to say something more, but he kept silent.

  From wherever she was, Tamsin Grey could reach into Bendertown and each of the bosses’ dens but, even with the relays, she couldn’t control them all at once. The ecosystem of the Cape held more than twenty million people and there were only five hundred and fifty-seven baubles in the bag Risom had brought. She could reach only as far as the baubles sp
read. She would need more relays to cover the whole of the Cape, as the region was vast. For now she had to select which were the most important areas to cover.

  Tamsin reached north, following a daisy chain of baubles and minds into the expansive gaming rooms of Jackpot!

  Boris Arkady sat on his white leather couch, stoned by a daydream of Tamsin’s creation. In the illusion, he was being multi-pleasured beyond any previous level of orgasm. And it was because of the psis; they brought peace and fulfilment to everyone.

  In his mind, Boris Arkady stood up from his bed and pulled his dressing gown closed. He felt postcoital calm and pleasant intoxication. He left his fuck sleeping on the bed and spread himself out on the leather couch, sipping a drink and puffing on a relaxing peach-flavoured steamer.

  This could be your life, if you want it, a voice that wasn’t his own thought into his head.

  He blinked and saw he was sitting alone, the illusion banished.

  ‘What do I have to do?’ he asked.

  Help us and we will help you.

  Tamsin didn’t like to think that she enjoyed doing this to people. But the power of reconditioning another’s mind was intoxicating. Controlling another for a moment, was one thing, but using rewards, punishments and implanted associations could permanently change how someone thought. Soon Boris Arkady would be licking her hand for her favour like a tamed mongrel.

  All you have to remember is that we are your masters and you are our servants. Praise Pierre Jnr.

  ‘Praise Pierre Jnr,’ he repeated.

  She heard someone cough, though she couldn’t see where they were. It wasn’t Boris. He sat there peaceably waiting for her to tell him what to do. She swam back down to the games rooms, to the people milling about in lacklustre imitations of their normal activities.

  For a moment her name was Teri Malràs, then Ty Zauner, then Willard Barker, then Connie Pawtowski and Calvin Banas … What’s happening? Who am I? Tamsin thought. Gregory Biniok, Justyna Tomasa, Eileen Fiord …

  She closed her eyes and thought of the room where her body sat. It was very hard to pull back. Her senses were the senses of every person she was connected to. Her body was multiple …

  This way, Piri’s voice called.