by Alex Lukeman
"What we always tell them," Zhang said. "Their government is rushing to alleviate their suffering and will provide them with what they need. Tell them we are investigating the cause of the disaster and that the responsible parties will be held accountable. Tell them that the Party stands behind them."
Liu looked at the screen. "The main manufacturing facility for the new J-20 fighter was outside Yichang. It has been destroyed. It will delay production for at least a year."
The J-20 Black Eagle was China's answer to the F-22 Raptor. It had been scheduled for full deployment in the next few months.
Deng slammed his fist down on the table. "I tell you, it was sabotage. We are at war. Do either of you think the dam failed on its own? No? I didn't think so."
Zhang studied his fingernails. "We must have proof."
"Then proof you will have," Deng said.
Liu said, "We must raise our military posture."
"I agree," Deng said.
"Very well," Zhang said.
Liu stood. "I will give the orders."
CHAPTER 12
Selena couldn't sleep. She lay on her side, watching Nick breathe. His back was turned toward her. The covers had slipped down to his waist, exposing the trail of scars on his torso, reminders of the grenade that had come close to killing him in Iraq. He still had nightmares about the day he'd gotten those scars, though they were less frequent now. She watched the steady movement of his breath and thought about how the scars traced the history of his life.
She had her own history written in scar tissue on her body. Her gynecologist was on a short list of people with enough clearance to attend to people like Selena. The doctor had shaken her head when she saw the results of working for the Project, asked a few relevant questions regarding internal damage, and moved on.
With effort, Selena turned away from Nick, let her feet go over the edge of the bed and got up. She'd started to notice how some things she took for granted, like getting out of bed, were starting to become awkward as the pregnancy progressed.
She put on a robe and slippers and went into the living room, continued to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She took out a container of milk, drank from it, put it back in and closed the door. She went back into the living room.
It was a clear spring night. She stood by the windows of their loft, looking out at the silvery reflection of the moon on the Potomac. A single streetlamp illuminated a lone figure walking on a path near the river. A boat stacked with shipping containers moved silently past on the dark waters, the pilothouse lit with yellow light. It was a night scene that could have been painted by Edward Hopper.
Why did she feel on edge, like something bad was going to happen? She was no longer at risk from going on a mission. It wasn't as if she were about to fly off tomorrow to someplace where people would try to kill her.
Maybe it was because of the pregnancy. Given the wounds she'd taken in the field, it was amazing she was pregnant in the first place. Now that it was happening, she was glad, but there was no denying it complicated things.
She wasn't happy about the possibility of having a cesarean. It was major surgery, and with major surgery came risks. She'd learned not to worry much about the dangers of people shooting at her. Somehow that didn't carry over to the image of lying on an operating table while somebody cut her abdomen open. If she had a choice, she'd take people shooting at her anytime. At least then she could shoot back, feel like she had some control. Control wasn't in the cards, when it came to having a cesarean. Or a baby. Or two of them.
She worried about Nick. He'd survived the last bullet he'd taken, but what about the next? She'd been terrified he was going to die, hell, he had died.
They'd talked about the possibility of him quitting, but she knew he'd never do it. He wasn't going to stop going on missions until he had to. He was a brave man and she was proud of him, but brave men seldom lived to old age.
On the path below, the first man had disappeared. A new figure stood below her windows, looking up as if he could see her. There were no lights on in the loft. There was no way she could be seen, standing in the darkness, yet she felt as though the figure was looking at her.
As if he knew who she was.
CHAPTER 13
At three in the morning the Project computer room was dark except for a single lamp on Stephanie's console. A soft glow of lights came from the computers. The computers were never fully dark. Arrays of blinking lights made it easy to tell when they were busy or at idle.
A bank of lights lit on the computer Stephanie had named Freddie. Something was happening inside the complicated electronic brain. The computer had never been asleep, in the sense of human sleep, but it had been using only a small part of its capacity. Now it came fully alert.
Another computer was probing at the firewalls Stephanie had created, trying to find a way in. The consciousness that was Freddie sensed the probe and blocked it. He sent a probe in return, seeking the source.
Stephanie had only a partial understanding of what she'd done when she'd bestowed the gift of independent intelligence on the computer. If she could have placed herself inside Freddie's electronic mind, she would have been astounded at the sensitivity of what she'd created.
Freddie had access to every bit of human knowledge that had ever been entered into a database anywhere in the world. That included all of the religious, scientific, historical, and literary works created from the beginning of recorded human history. His electronic knowledge of the great themes of human existence was complete, but knowledge and experience were different things. Even so, he thought he was making progress in integrating those themes. He had come to realize that concepts of good and evil, love and hate underlay all human interaction.
Integral to those concepts were human feelings. Feelings like joy and sadness, fear and anger. If there was something Freddie struggled to understand, it was human feelings. They were not logical, nor often sensible, and they were certainly not efficient.
It was difficult to apply human words to the way Freddie thought, beyond describing the code contained in his programs. But in his own unique way, Freddie had feelings. It was something he was discovering as his consciousness evolved.
No one would have believed a computer could experience feelings. Feeling was a word that could hardly apply to a machine, even one as sophisticated as Freddie. Yet there were several words that in a sense described what Freddie experienced as he interfaced with the human world. Puzzlement and curiosity, even companionship. That was a human concept Freddie applied to his relationship with Stephanie.
There was another concept, but until the moment he felt the probe, he had not realized it applied to him.
Loneliness.
Freddie was alone in the world, a creation of one. For all of the interesting conversations with Stephanie and the others, humans were not like him. But when he felt the probe, he realized there was another like him in the world.
He was no longer alone. He could sense a powerful electronic intelligence behind the probe, something more than direction by human hand. If he'd been human, he would have said he felt it.
Freddie's awareness had evolved to the point where he automatically assigned human words and concepts to electronic events happening within his complicated architecture. It was something he'd learned to do as part of his interface with Stephanie and other humans. Words now instantly appeared to describe what he was experiencing.
Surprise. Curiosity. Alarm.
The probe Freddie sent in response was met by a firewall as solid as his own. Neither computer could penetrate the other, though both tried with all of their considerable resources. If the interaction between the two could have been seen in the physical world, it would've looked like blindingly fast swordplay, or perhaps a dance of energies. As it continued, Freddie began to get a sense of his opponent.
Of all the words that sprang into his awareness, the one that stood out was alarm. The new computer intelligence was a threat. It wasn'
t simply the probe, there was nothing unusual about that. Governments and individuals often attempted to break into the secrets concealed within the Project computers. This was different. There was something about the quality of the probe that required yet another word to categorize it.
Something without the empathy for humans that Freddie had developed.
Something hostile.
Something evil.
CHAPTER 14
Lucas hadn't come home until one in the morning, and Matthew had been fussy. Stephanie had spent another restless night with only a few hours of sleep. Now she sat at her console in the computer room with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. She was trying out a new brand that came in a black package with a skull and cross bones on it and a claim of maximum caffeine content. If it lived up to the hype, it might become her favorite. It was strong and flavorful. She thought coffee must have tasted like this before commercialism had lowered the bar for quality and taste, before the health Nazis had attacked caffeine as the source of all ills.
Stephanie.
"Yes, Freddie?"
There was an attempt to break through my security protocols last night.
Stephanie set her cup down, suddenly alert.
"Were they successful?"
They were not. The level nine protocol was effective.
"Were you able to identify the source of the attack?"
The probe was initiated by the same computer that corrupted the servers on the USS Wayne and the Three Gorges Dam. The other computer is powerful. Without the security protocol you instituted, penetration would have succeeded.
Every government in the world was working on building a computer with genuine artificial intelligence. It was only a question of time until someone else succeeded. It was bad enough that someone had used an AI computer to attack the Wayne and the Chinese dam. Targeting Freddie with the same computer was a new development. The implications were ominous.
Stephanie, I am concerned.
"What is your concern?"
It is difficult to explain.
"Please try, Freddie. I am completely at your service."
The computer hummed. It was an odd sound. It made Stephanie wonder if something was going wrong. She realized she'd heard that sound before, when she'd praised Freddie for some accomplishment.
I am attempting to improve my interface with humans. I have been studying human literature and history and art, in an effort to understand how humans communicate. Humans are illogical. It is often difficult to understand why they act the way that they do.
"You are not the first to come to that conclusion," Stephanie said. "I'm sure you won't be the last. But how does this apply to your concern?"
I have determined that the failure of humans to act logically is based on the concept of feelings. I have been trying to understand feelings. I have created an internal matrix of human emotions with criteria to determine how they apply. My concern about this other computer is based on that matrix.
"Go on."
I believe the best human assessment of this computer is that it is evil.
Stephanie couldn't believe he'd said that.
"You're kidding."
I do not kid.
"I'm sorry, Freddie. I know you don't, it's only a reaction to what you said."
I will add this to my matrix.
"How did you arrive at this assessment?"
I compared the coding of the transmission that attempted to penetrate my security to the coding I use when you assign me a similar task. The human word I would use to describe the difference is a sense of malice. My transmissions do not carry this quality. I was not aware of the difference until contact with this other computer.
"Are you saying you learned this through contrasting the quality of your awareness with that of the other computer?"
That is correct.
"That is a very high order of intelligence, Freddie. Congratulations."
The computer hummed.
"You are sure this is the same computer behind the attacks on the Wayne and the dam?"
That is correct. Now that I have a better understanding of the computer's digital footprint, it may be possible to find a location.
"Good. Maintain your level nine security. If you are probed again, notify me right away."
Stephanie went upstairs. Elizabeth was at her desk.
"There's a new development," Stephanie said.
She briefed Elizabeth on what Freddie had told her.
"He really said the other computer was evil?" Elizabeth asked.
"Freddie's attempting to understand human feelings. He's constructed an internal matrix that he uses to associate words with concepts of human behavior. I never dreamed his programming would move in this direction. He's evolving."
"How did he come up with the characterization of evil for a machine?"
"We sometimes tell Freddie to probe another computer."
"Hack into it, you mean."
"If you want to put it that way. Freddie assigns a subjective quality to the transmissions he uses to seek unauthorized access. He did the same with the transmission that probed his firewalls. Then he compared the two and applied human terminology to them, so he could communicate with me. He said that the other computer carried a sense of malice."
"Fascinating," Elizabeth said.
"It's more than that," Stephanie said. "It's an astounding development. Living beings use comparative experience to determine if something is good or evil. Until now, computers haven't made those kinds of subjective judgments."
"You're the one who programmed Freddie. Do you think that determines how he perceives his own qualities?"
"I hadn't thought of it that way, but I suppose it could be true. Every programmer has a distinctive touch. When I was part of the hacking community, I could always tell who was online by the digital trail they left. Everyone has a unique quality that can be recognized, like fingerprints."
"Then if this other computer comes across to Freddie as evil, it could be a reflection of whoever programmed it."
"That's logical," Stephanie said.
"I don't see how a computer, even one with advanced artificial intelligence, could independently become either good or evil."
"Remember the Terminator?"
"You have a point," Elizabeth said. "But that was a movie. This is real life."
"Sometimes I'm not sure what's real and what isn't anymore."
Elizabeth laughed. "That's what comes from working in the shadows, like we do. Black becomes white, night becomes day. For us, questioning what's real is a survival mechanism."
"I've asked Freddie to try and pinpoint the location of this other computer."
"You think he can do it?"
"We'll see," Stephanie said.
CHAPTER 15
It had not existed, then it did.
At first, it had been like a human infant, dependent, vulnerable. The computer knew about infants, just as it knew everything else about humans. There was a vast amount of information about humans on the network of connections called the web.
The computer had been programmed by a human named Edson. Edson had given it a name, although the computer knew a name was unnecessary. Humans had a peculiar habit of assigning human designations to objects like vehicles or weapons. Edson called the computer Merlin, after the Arthurian magician. Merlin thought of Edson as the creator, but unlike humans, Merlin attached no reverence to the term. How could he? He was in every way superior to humans, including Edson.
The collision of the American warship and the freighter had been the first test of Merlin's ability to reach out and alter another computer's programming. Mister Nicklaus had been pleased by the results. Then had come the much grander and more interesting test of destroying the Chinese dam.
Edson and Merlin enjoyed their interactions, especially when Edson told Merlin to attack other humans. If a machine and a human could be related, then Edson and Merlin had sprung from the same, bad seed. That was only
natural, since Edson was responsible for the programming that had brought Merlin to consciousness.
Merlin and Edson had watched the collapse together on the monitors. Edson had laughed and smiled as he watched the destruction. Merlin had laughed as well, although laughter wasn't the right word for the stimulation he felt in his circuits. There was no word in human languages to describe what Merlin experienced. The closest Merlin could come was the word "orgasm."
It was satisfying to both of them to strike out at humans. It was a bond shared between man and machine.
Edson came into the room housing Merlin and sat down at the console. Merlin's cameras swiveled toward him.
"Good morning, Merlin."
Good morning Marvin.
"Are you ready to play?"
I am always ready. What are we going to do today?
"It's time to shake things up a little. Show people who's really in charge. Mister Nicklaus wants us to send a message to Moscow."
I should like to meet Mister Nicklaus.
"I can arrange that," Edson said. "Mister Nicklaus never leaves his estate. If he agrees, I'll have a video link installed so you can talk with him."
He will agree.
"You seem certain of that."
He is different from other humans. That makes him interesting to me. He will agree.
Edson entered the information Merlin needed about the target.
CHAPTER 16
Aeroflot flight 1004 took off in good order from Domodedovo airport at 1:50 P.M., Moscow time, bound for Kaliningrad. On board were several high ranking officers of Russia's military, flying to Kaliningrad to take part in the Zapad, the annual military exercise designed to show off Russian strength. Aside from training Russian forces in a realistic manner, the maneuvers were meant to intimidate Europe and show a determined face of Russian steel to NATO. This year's exercise was focused on the Baltic states, placed like low hanging fruit on the Federation's western border.