They eventually made it home, and found evidence that the three boys had been there, dirty dishes left throughout the living room. They were somewhat comforted, thinking that if the three boys had been together, they were resourceful enough and smart enough that they’d probably be alright.
Then Leon told them his story, his voice hoarse from the many retellings of it, and yet he found fresh reasons to cry in the telling.
* * *
Mike felt uncomfortable in the uniform. His own clothes had been bloody and shredded from the battle in Switzerland. Apparently what passed for spare clothes in the Pentagon was a dress uniform, because that’s what he’d been given. Now a General escorted him from the Pentagon to the White House for a private meeting with the President.
Outside the room, he smoothed the clothes again. Funny, being nervous here. Maybe that was the effect of coming to the White House. Finally an aide in a black suit opened the door and ushered him in. Mike was a little disappointed to see that it wasn’t the Oval Office, but it was nevertheless impressively baroque.
President Smith stood and clasped his hand. “Sit down, Mike. We have a lot to talk about.” To the man in the black suit she said, “Please excuse us.”
The President poured a cup of coffee for Mike. He took a sip and grinned in shocked surprise at the flavor. “Tell me this isn’t the Peruvian coffee from Extracto.”
President Smith laughed, her old warm smile back on her face for a minute. “I’m afraid it is. I’ll never forget the first time I tasted the coffee you brought during the ELOPe emergency.”
Mike shook his head in bewilderment. “How does coffee from a boutique coffee roaster in Northeast Portland end up in the President’s office?”
She laughed again. “Oh, it’s hideously complex. You can’t imagine. It took three months of arguing with the Secret Service before they agreed. They have to send an undercover agent in to buy it. And then each bag has to be sampled and chemically analyzed for contaminants. But what’s the point of being President if you can’t drink the coffee you want?”
Now it was Mike’s turn to laugh.
“But, we have some serious topics to discuss, Mike.” Her expression turned sober. “First, the boy, Leon. What should we do about him? I know what my security advisors have said. But I want your opinion.”
“To do with him?” Mike asked, puzzled.
“One opinion is that he goes to jail, quietly, for the rest of his life. Another opinion is that he’s exposed. That the world knows who caused this disaster.”
“Oh, God. You can’t do that to him. He’s just a regular kid. An incredibly brilliant kid, but still just a kid. He never intended any of this.” Mike gestured, at what he wasn’t sure. The whole world, maybe. “Besides, his uncle coerced him into doing it.”
“Mike, the virus caused trillions of dollars in damages, millions, maybe tens of millions of lives lost. And the economic damages.” She shook her head. “We won’t know the full loss for months. It could be bigger than the impact of World War II, and it all happened in five days, Mike. Five days.”
“You know this isn’t just Leon’s fault. I tried to tell you ten years ago. If we could build ELOPe, an artificial intelligence, ourselves, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did it.”
“I thought that was what ELOPe agreed to do. To monitor and suppress any other AI research. That was what we agreed when I took office. I wouldn’t go after ELOPe, and you two would ensure that there wouldn’t be any more AI disasters.”
“And we did. But what happened is the consequence of that policy. It’s like the forest fire suppression techniques of last century. They tried to suppress every fire. Then brush and weak trees would build up in the forest. When it finally burned, instead of being a little fire, it would be a big fire.”
She gestured for him to continue.
“We suppressed any other AI from being developed in public. In large, organized research efforts. But meanwhile technology has moved forward. It took twenty-thousand servers for ELOPe to be created as an emergent intelligence. Ten years later computers are sixty times faster, and the smallest virus AI we saw was about two hundred computers.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that twenty-thousand computers are only within reach for large companies and big research organizations. Two hundred computers is within reach of a couple of motivated individuals. And in another ten years, an emergent artificial intelligence could run on a dozen computers. Then it’ll be within reach of any hacker in the world. ELOPe can’t monitor every computer and every individual on the planet. Then we’d be the worst kind of police state.”
“We need a long term solution to this.” Rebecca shook her head. “What do we do, ban all access to computers? Give security clearances to people before they are allowed to develop software?”
“I don’t think so. Even if you could, people have been jailbreaking their phones for twenty years to get around anti-modification restrictions. What we need is a new approach. Instead of suppressing AI development, let’s endorse it. Let’s organize it. We know now what can happen. The world will have seen it. Let’s get the most brilliant people in the world and put them on the task of developing the platform for AI to run on. One that has safeguards. One that incorporates a set of ethical behaviors for AI. And for the love of humanity, let’s put some hard switches on the military technology. We can’t have computers running away with our weapons.”
“And let me guess. You think we should recruit Leon for this effort.”
“Hell, yes. He’s a brilliant biologist. He doesn’t even realize how smart he is. Make him a principle researcher.”
“What do we do about his responsibility for all of this?”
“He’s carrying enough of a burden for his responsibility already. He’s crying himself to sleep. Get him a psychologist. And just tell the world it was a virus. Nobody needs to know it was him.”
President Smith was quiet. She nodded her head slightly, working out some internal dialogue.
He’d known this woman for fifteen years, but always at a remove. When he was a lead architect at Avogadro, she was the CEO. He became ELOPe’s caretaker, and later she became President. Two people, two different kinds of power. He sat quietly.
She turned back to him. “We’ll make it so.”
* * *
A few weeks later, Leon and his parents got ready to leave the Pentagon. The situation in New York had stabilized, and the military arranged a flight to bring them home. A military truck brought them to the airport through the quiet streets. Most civilian vehicles were still inert, but recently hackers had been distributing pamphlets on how to remove the computer controls in some cars to operate them manually. So they saw a few cars on the road.
Military programmers developed a firmware update for emergency vehicles and equipment, restoring them to operational status, albeit in isolated mode, with no computer communications.
The military radio mesh network was spread across the United States, providing low-bandwidth data communications. The Treasury department was kept operating at full capacity, printing cash and coins once more to enable commerce, and distributing money to every family. The finance department guaranteed any business-to-business transaction, so businesses could purchase supplies and goods on credit, until financial computer systems could be restored.
Leon was going home, for now. He was coming back in three months, and he’d be attending Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., on a full scholarship, courtesy of the United States Department of Defense. Georgetown would be establishing a new cross-specialization program in Artificial Intelligence and Ethics. He’d be not just a student but a lead researcher as well.
On the tarmac at the airport, a caravan approached with a limousine in the middle of four military trucks. The vehicle pulled up alongside the group and stopped. The door opened, and a man in a black suit opened the back door. The President of the United States of America stepped out, a
nd walked up to the group.
She shook hands with Leon’s parents, and complimented them on having such an intelligent, compassionate son. They smiled and beamed. Then she approached Leon.
“I expect good things of you,” she said. “The world needs your help.”
Leon gulped.
Author’s Note
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed A.I. Apocalypse.
As an independent author, I don’t have a marketing department nor the exposure of being on bookshelves. If you enjoyed A.I. Apocalypse, please support it by writing a review or telling a few friends.
Write a review on Amazon
Buy the first book in the series: Avogadro Corp: The Singularity Is Closer Than It Appears
Subscribe to updates on my blog at williamhertling.com if you’d like to find out when the sequel The Last Firewall is released.
Thanks again,
William Hertling
Acknowledgements
It takes many friends, readers, and professionals to write a book. A.I. Apocalypse would not be what it is without editing, proofreading, critiquing, encouragement, and more. Any mistakes that remain are all mine.
I want to thank my early readers, including Mike Whitmarsh, Erin Gately, Grace Ribaudo, Nathan Rutman, Gene Kim, Jeanette Feldenhousen, and Jeff Weiss.
For putting commas in their right place, ensuring that I don’t use the same words over and over, and fixing many language, grammar, and spelling issues, I want to thank Maddie Whitmarsh, Shelli Whitmarsh, Barbara Lawrence, and Deborah Wessel.
The cover design, book layout and yet more corrections are thanks to Maureen Gately.
I also want to thank my writing teacher, Merridawn Duckler, as well as the Hawthorne Writing Group: Jonathan Stone, Jill Ahlstrand, Debbie Steere, and Mary Elizabeth Summer.
Of course, I could not have written this without the support and encouragement of Erin Gately.
Finally, all my love to Rowan, Luc, and Gifford. Thanks for letting me write on Saturday mornings, even if that meant you had to go without chocolate chip pancakes.
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