Machines of Eden
Page 14
That gave him an idea. He hoped he could remember the sequence; it had been a while since he had played any games. This one was a throwback to the good old days, and had been perpetuated within coder circles for generations despite security protocols.
"Eve: command sequencing slash-slash universal,” he said. Then he launched into a sequence of directional command inputs, combinations of left, right, up, and down, and then ended with the two-letter executor “A-B”.
Eve’s response was instantaneous. It wasn’t actually Eve responding, technically; it was her underlying base structure. "Return-info command?"
"Previous ten edits to prime directives, please," John said. Bingo. Never mess with an old-school hackmaster.
Eve responded automatically. "Reset to main directive pathway, elapsed time eighteen minutes twenty-seven seconds. Verbal summary of newest directive updates, header only:
"Peace is useless. The Project is a weapon. Humanity is corruption. Janice is Gaia. Gaia is God-Creator.
“New schedule directory B7-219/g. Alpha sequence four of In Corpus Deo procedure. Threat prevention level Orange, secrecy protocol level Deep Hide, self-preservation level Provisional/Expedient. End get-info."
Jackpot.
There was silence before Eve spoke again. "What did you just do to me?"
"Something Glenn wanted me to do, apparently,” John replied. “A loophole he left in your brain. Sorry about the violation, but you’ll have to admit I was pushed into a corner."
"A neat trick… I wish I could explore it deeper with you, but unfortunately Janice is on her way, and I promised her I’d have you lying in a coma by the time she got back. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Eve."
Using the cutters from his pocket kit, John snipped three green wires off right where they connected to the terminal marked Surv. Covering his mouth and nose against the gas, he quickly flipped several circuit breakers, cut a fat bundle of cables tagged Lighting/Monitoring Lvl 3, and yanked a series of white data cables from the their sockets. Then he shut the panel, opened the closet door, and ran for it.
"You can sit down if you’d like," Eve said with gratifying melancholy. "I’ve flooded the whole level. There’s nowhere to run to."
Oh, but there is. Three’s my lucky number.
"Eve, I hope by now you know me better than to think I’d die sitting down," he called out through his shirt, coughing. "And by the way, don’t take the blinding personally. It’s for your own good."
"You temporarily disconnected a small subset of fringe functionality on levels two and three. What do you think you are going to try to accomplish? It’s all over."
"I’m going to set you free, Eve. And then… then we’ll party all over this island."
He jogged out of the lounge and found the stairwell that connected to Level Three, taking them two at a time. He was not about to get into another elevator contest right now.
The lights were all off on the middle level of the Facility, and John had to feel his ways along the walls until he got to a section that battery-powered floorlights illuminated. Heading down the hall to the left, he saw the door he had pinpointed on the diagram in the closet: 318 Robotics Lab.
Dodging inside, he shut and locked the door, then found and activated the emergency HVAC control. A clunk overhead told him the system had successfully engaged, and low-level emergency lighting came on. No more AI controlled air. Things are starting to swing my way.
"You’re very clever, I’ll admit. It's why I was drawn to you in the first place. But this only prolongs what must happen, and your stubborn resistance hardly makes a difference."
"It’s how I roll, Eve, babe. Stick with me and you’ll go places."
The robotics lab amounted to three interconnected rooms. The first was filled floor-to-ceiling with boxes and trays of supplies—spare parts for the bots. The second was a workshop with some advanced electronics tools and a computer array – Programming/Diagnostics. The third had several full- and partially-assembled bodies – Production.
Ahh. Here we are.
He took stock. Junk, mostly, or too dismantled to matter in the time frame. But there were two battlebots with weapons systems already installed, and a basic security bot that could handle small arms. The lab’s computer log showed him that all three fit-for-duty robots were in for small maintenance procedures involving secondary systems. Not for long.
It took fifteen minutes of tinkering and testing to get all three bots armed, powered up, and ruminating over their new programming: to attack all Mil/Sec-class bots except their immediate group. He threw in a command to target human aggressors with firearms as well, and booted them to life.
Once the three bots had initialized, he gave orders to search and destroy starting at the Facility entrance he had come in through, and off they marched. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but Janice wouldn’t be expecting resistance and one of his pets might get a lucky shot off. Stranger things have happened in a career like mine.
"Okay, Eve. I’m ready to play again," he said, slipping out of the labs and heading back through the darkened corridors to the stairway. Checking carefully for threats at each step, he reached the door to Level Four and broke in.
Now it would get harder. Eve lived on Level Four, if what he had pieced together from the diagrams was correct. She would not want him getting any closer.
The lights were on here, and he waited until his pupils were fully adjusted before moving in. Level Four was an maze of hallways and rooms full of equipment, computers, and labs. How many people were meant to work here? This must have been a big operation at some point, but now it’s a ghost town.
He cautiously peeked around corners before proceeding, and twice he almost ran into the path of security cameras. They were everywhere on this level. He had to double back and cut through a series of small single-occupant offices to avoid detection. Even so, she had of course detected his entry through the main door onto this floor.
"Now you are behaving more irrationally than Nut, Adam! Your attempts at espionage are irritating, and I'm losing patience."
John didn't reply; apparently she was reluctant or unable to flood this level with gas, but he still didn't want to encourage her wrath if he didn't have to. The only things on his mind to say were beyond flippant. That’s just who I am. But I know when to keep my mouth shut.
On the far side of the offices, all eerily empty and silent, he found an active computer console that was out of sight of cameras. He touched its power control and it came slowly to life. This type of console had been state-of-the-art ten years ago but was still in widespread use. The pace of technology growth had taken a serious hit as the wars came to a close, and upgrades would be infrequent in an out-of-the-way place like this. He sat down and began to work quickly, hacking into the facilities systems to gain control of what he could.
"I've changed my mind,” Eve said. “I'm going to help you."
Really? Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical.
"There's a chance for you if you do just as I say before Janice arrives. Run to the south-east corner of the hallway you're in, and you'll find a ladder leading upward. From there I can guide you to safety, but you must hurry!"
Um… no. Nice try.
A few minutes later he broke the encryption barrier to the administrator controls, and brought up a settings menu. A geeky thrill made him grin as he went down the list: Security Cams - Power Down. Fire Control - Disabled. Backup Surveillance Measures - Deactivate. Door locks - Manual Only. HVAC - Lock Current.
Save Manual Configuration and Run Commands.
He didn't hear anything, but a light on the powered door at the end of the hall turned from blue to orange.
"You are definitely the most stubborn human I have yet encountered!” Eve exclaimed. “If I were more prone to emotional outbursts, you would be earning one now."
Wait till I show you what an “emotional outburst” can mean. John was in the zone now, and wasn’t going to break concentration
with chatter.
He stayed at the computer long enough to bring up a more detailed floorplan of Level Four than what he’d seen so far. It showed that in the center of all the offices there was a large area labeled Cortex 1. It was only accessible through two doors on opposite ends, and in the corner of it there was an enclosure of some kind. Eve's brainhouse. Just what I’m looking for.
"Cortex 1? I hope there isn't a number two, Eve," he said as he logged off the console and walked toward the nearer entrance to the hallways outside the enclosure area. "It would make it harder to get intimately acquainted with you."
"I won't be sharing 'intimate' details like that with you."
As Eve spoke, he pressed the button to open the access door to the Cortex. It slid up into the ceiling with a hiss, and immediately John realized he had made a dangerous mistake.
Watch yourself! Sarge yelled in his ear. Get blown away for walking right into the fatal funnel, and it won’t be my fault.
"But you've shown that you're intelligent enough to understand," Eve was saying, "that if there is a Cortex 1 you could expect there to be a 2. Else, why would it be numbered at all?"
John stood exactly where he was, watching a small red laser dot move back and forth along the floor. Ten centimeters to the right, almost touching his toe, ten centimeters back to the left. He didn't dare look around the doorway, but if he did he was sure there would be a small wall-mounted turret gun moving back and forth on its gyros, primed and ready for action. He had disabled its cameras, but there had been no control for defense systems.
Eve was still talking, trying to distract him. "There are a few things you should know about me. I'm much more than you think I am."
"More?" he asked, looking behind him for a plan, a way to circumvent the Cortex's defenses.
"You're probably assuming that I'm like the other artificials you've known. Well, I'm not. I'm not even remotely like anything you've ever encountered, and if you keep pushing me, you'll find that out."
"I already think the world of you, Eve," he said. There was an office chair in a small room nearby that could help him see what he was up against. He left the door open to go grab the chair. "Are you telling me there are hidden layers to your charming personality?"
"Layers upon layers. I am more advanced in both programming, capability, and scalability than any other system I am aware of. And I am aware of everything."
He stuffed a huge bundle of cables upright on the seat of the office chair and wheeled it to the open doorway. Then he gave the chair a shove with his foot, sending it rolling into the path of the laser, and stepped back.
He wasn't disappointed; four rapid-fire shotgun blasts shredded the cables, the chair back, and the armrests, and knocked the chair flat on its back, leaving one wheel spinning in midair. Two more sent it skidding along the floor out of the gun’s range.
Shotguns, with a dumb targeter aiming. Not so hard to beat.
"You're not being very welcoming, Evie. Is there something in here I shouldn't see?"
He grabbed a swiveling desk lamp from the office and threw a plastic dustcover over it. Poking it through the doorway just enough to look like it could be a shoulder or back, he let it take the brunt of several more shots. Throwing it bodily into the little corridor inside the Cortex area got it blown into shards by two more blasts.
Figuring that the autogun’s ammo was nearing depletion, he poked a plastifoam seatcushion through. One more shot almost wrenched it from his hands. Then a click-click-click told him the gun was dry.
Not willing to take chances with such a clever opponent, he unbolted and carried the hardened aluminum surface from one of the desks over to the doorway, and turned it upright. Getting a good grip, he poked it through to check for more shots, then entered the corridor and rushed the gun emplacement to the left. It was a single-barrel swiveling gun high on the wall in the elbow of the hallway. He kept up his momentum and slammed the desktop into it, crushing it against the wall.
Coming around the corner of the elbow, he could see through partial-height windows into a much larger room. As he approached the open doorway that led into the room, he examined it. It was all there – processor stacks, spare data rods, the ceiling-mounted mechanical arm to move them around as needed. There were the redundant tanks of fire retardant, coolant gel, lubricant, and various gases that greased the wheels of a supercomputer setup this big.
John was impressed in spite of himself. She was as big an operation as he had ever seen. All this for brainpower added to the data capacity he’s seen at West Station could add up to what she was bragging about being: one of the world's real powerhouses.
"Knock, knock," he said. "You are quite a piece of work, Eve. I’ve seldom seen a setup this big.”
Eve didn't reply.
He had just started down the processor stacks when an enraged voice burst from the ceiling speakers.
"I’m coming for you, whoever you are!” Janice was breathing heavily as she spoke, and John pictured her jogging along outside. "The things I'm going to do to you--"
"Oh, shut up," he said, heading for the processing stacks and keeping out of reach of the mechanical arm. "If you can't say something nice..."
"Stop. Just stop whatever you're doing, and listen to me. You don't even know what you're messing with. If you want to understand before you die, shut up and stop touching things!”
He shut up. But he also began to unclamp the first processor stack.
13.5
The Dhaka Attack was one of the very earliest incidents in the chain reaction that came to be called the Green Wars. Although it wasn't the most shocking, it brought international attention to the depth of the malcontents' fervor.
Sixteen masked dissidents, moving ahead of a wave of destruction and chaos rippling across Bhurma, stormed the president's mansion in the early morning hours. Many of them were students, and they had video cameras with them. They were led and armed by older, more experienced radical thought leaders looking to score a quick and visible victory. They were disappointed.
In the video, the only resistance they encounter are automated systems. They quickly move past most of these using hacking equipment and explosives. A self-sealing door slows them for several minutes, but finally they gain entry to the mansion house and begin searching it for targets.
The mansion is empty. The masked intruders call to each other across the house, confused by the absence of people. One of the more seasoned guerillas suddenly begins yelling for them to withdraw, but is cut off and his body can be seen being yanked out of sight into a dark room on the second floor. Then a large battle bot, an early Demeter 3-series, steps out and targets the student activist holding the camera.
The student drops his weapon in terror and turns to run, but is caught by another bot emerging from its wall alcove behind him. The two bots open fire at once, cutting him down, and the camera is disabled.
Another camera on a lower level shows gunfire erupting throughout the interior of the house and a rocket-propelled grenade shattering windows and sending bodies flying. The videographer behind this camera climbs out a window and attempts to flee through the grounds, but is trapped by a garden wall and shot by two more sentry bots coming around the side of the house. His camera remains on, recording some of the slaughter from the ground where it lies.
Yells and screams account for many of the dissidents, and several more can be seen taking bullets to the head and chest. In perhaps the most startling scene, a young woman who has removed her mask comes crawling out of a doorway. Bleeding heavily from multiple wounds, she pulls herself along the ground toward the garden wall the camera is situated by. A bot follows her out of the building, walking slowly after her. It is joined by two others, and all three bots advance on the fallen girl, easily catching up to her as she gasps in pain and exertion.
The bots wait until they are all surrounding her, ostensibly communicating with a remote command party to see if a prisoner is desired. It has been speculated that t
he commander in charge would have been then-president Urashni, but this has never been confirmed. With the girl raising her hands to beg for her life, the bots receive their orders and open fire on her, riddling her body with shots. They then return to the house, and the camera runs down on a quiet, still garden with blood slowly pooling in different areas.
14
“Janice,” Eve said calmly, “He’s attacking Cortex 1. I told you I needed backup defense lines. This is why.”
“It’s your fault he’s here at all, you stupid machine!” Janice’s breath was harsh and labored over the comm system; she sounded like she was running. The rage in her voice also limited her ability to speak clearly. “But it doesn’t matter. He’s not going to be a problem for long. We can launch as soon as the systems are online again.”
“So soon?” Eve replied. There was a note of caution in her voice. “All protocols are not yet—“
“Now, Eve! I’m not waiting one hour longer. Have you gotten everything ready in room one-eleven?”
“Almost. It will be functional by the time you get there.”
John listened intently for Janice’s response, but the comm was silent. He unclamped another processor and started pulling memory cylinders. “I hate to interrupt, but what exactly are you doing in one-eleven? I noticed that the Rib contained some kind of surgical procedure.”
After a moment of silence, Janice spoke. “Even if I wanted to explain, I doubt your IQ would be up to the task. And whatever Eve told you about it is irrelevant now.”
“Try me. I’m curious about what the point of ‘In Corpus Deo’ is.”
“Eve, you fool.” Janice grated each word. “Did he manage to hack every byte in your brain?”
“Glenn left a back door in my system structure. I’ve already located and sealed it, but he saw the event log of your last instruction set. No details.”
John jumped in, bluffing wildly. “Oh, I know more than you’d want me to, Jannie. And I’m wondering: where do you get off calling yourself Gaia? I thought you were an earth-worshipper.”