The Darwin Project

by John Hindmarsh

  “Wha—Sorry, Toby. Did you ask something about drones?”

  “You can fly drones?”

  “For the last ten years. That’s how I take most of my videos.”

  “We’re being followed by a helicopter. Darwin has uploaded a drone control app to my notepad. I asked him to upload it to your tablet, too. We have two drones, each about half the size of this chopper that you can use to fly persuasive tactics. I don’t want to damage their aircraft; we don’t really know they’re enemies. Are you up to it?”

  “Sure. Let me look. Where did Darwin say the drones are at the moment?”

  Darwin said, “They’re a couple of hundred feet in front of you, maintaining the same speed. They’re radar invisible.”

  Rick asked, “They transmit images back to the app?”

  “Yes. Their behavior is identical to the drone you use, except they are a lot larger.”

  “Okay. I’ve got them. Billie, can you hover for a minute? I want to test the controls. If you could land, that would be even better.”

  Billie checked. “Okay, I can land about half a mile further along. It’s out of the way, and we might merge in with the rock colors. Going down.”

  The sinking sensation almost ruined Toby’s stomach. Rick said something under his breath. Billie laughed. “Toughen up, guys,” she said.

  The chopper hovered for a moment as Billie looked for a patch of smooth rock. At last she settled the helicopter down and switched off the engine. She went through a post-flight checklist and said, “All right, you can get out now.”

  Toby said, “Where are your drones?”

  Rick pointed, “About fifty feet in front of us, and about ten feet off the ground. They’re monsters—I want one.”

  Billie checked the radar, “As far as I can tell, the other chopper is about five miles away. They’re bearing 180 degrees—roughly. Following us.”

  “That’s close enough. Let’s see what we can do.” Rick clambered out of the aircraft, swearing at the sudden burst of heat.

  “This is a desert,” Billie reminded him.

  Toby said, “I can tell. This is hot.”

  He watched as Rick lifted the drones three or four hundred feet and sent them back in the direction of the following aircraft. He watched the relayed images from the drones that were displayed in split windows on his notepad. At first, he could see only blue sky.

  “I think I can see it,” Rick said. “Top right-hand portion of the image from drone B. There’s a small speck. It’s either a very large raptor or the chopper.”

  Toby watched, still not able to see the aircraft. A red circle appeared in the region indicated by Rick. A row of text flowed across the bottom of the screen. It was Darwin. The text read: Follow the marker.

  “Okay,” Toby said. Billie was watching over his shoulder. “Can you increase the altitude of A so we get a better view of the chopper in relation to drone B?”

  “Easy.”

  The display changed, and the image now had two circles, one red and the other green; the latter was drone B.

  “How do we communicate?” Rick asked.

  A line of text appeared across the bottom of both displays. It was Darwin again. “I can do that for you. What do you want to say?”

  Toby said, “Rick, get B to within a hundred feet, in front. Same altitude, same speed. Darwin, when he’s done that, inform the pilot that they’re not permitted to continue. Can you relay audio to us?”

  Nothing happened for a minute. Rick said, “Okay, I’m in position.”

  “Darwin, transmit now.”

  Toby’s notepad relayed Darwin’s communication. “…be advised, you are now trespassing. The craft in front of you will take action if you continue.”

  “What?” The voice was presumably the pilot of the other chopper. “Trespassing? Who do you think you are?”

  Toby instructed Rick, “Bring A into a similar position. Darwin, point out the two drones to the pilot.”

  After a brief pause, Rick said, “The second drone is in position. I think their chopper has slowed.”

  Darwin broadcast, “We have placed a second aircraft in front of you. If you continue, you’re at risk. Do you understand?”

  “Oh, I understand,” said the pilot. “This is illegal, you realize.”

  “So you saw a couple of UFOs. Who’ll believe you? The aircraft will gradually reduce airspeed. You’ll need to take evasive action. Alternatively, you can reverse your direction.”

  Rick said to Toby, “I can maneuver these two drones so they look like UFOs. I can send them up in a spiral and back again. They’re fast and very easy to control.”

  Toby said, “Let’s see. Are you slowing their speed?”

  “Yes, look at the images. The chopper is almost filling the screen.”

  Darwin broadcast, “The craft are about thirty feet in front of you. Do you want them closer?”

  In response, the chopper dropped, suddenly losing two or three hundred feet.

  Rick ensured both drones kept pace with minimal lag. The drones were closer to the other aircraft, perhaps by only five feet, but enough to cause the chopper pilot to curse.

  Darwin said to the pilot, “We can move closer, if you like. Your rotor is what—forty-five feet in diameter? Be careful—if you drop like that again, you might hit one of your new escorts.”

  “What do you want, asshole?” the pilot asked.

  “You should return to your starting point.”

  “No one can tell us not to trespass—we’re in mid-flight, for fuck sake.”

  “You want to crash somewhere in this desert?” Darwin asked.

  Rick was carrying out minor aerobatics with the two drones. Billie grabbed Toby’s arm. She said in a soft voice, “I hope your friend knows what he’s doing.”

  “You heard him. This is how he does his videos.” Toby watched, entranced. He wished that they had a third drone, to capture the total scene.

  The pilot presumably had conferred with his passengers. He said, “All right. You’re capable of crashing our chopper. We’ve got that message. We’ll head back.”

  “Realize we’ll accompany you. Head directly to Mammoth airport. Do not pass Go,” instructed Darwin. “Our two aircraft will fly in formation with your chopper. Any change of direction could cause a nasty mishap, understand?”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ve got the message. I hope I meet up with you again, some time, with the odds in my favor.”

  “Enjoy your flight,” Darwin concluded.

  oOo

  Chapter Fourteen

  Billie followed a guided landing path for five minutes, aligning with a virtual illuminated landing system that Toby could neither see nor hear, gradually slowing until the helicopter was hovering above a patch of red and brown rocks near the top of a small mountain. There were mountain peaks in every direction. Toby looked down and was surprised to see the rocks were moving.

  “It’s camouflage,” explained Billie. “There’s another layer, a set of steel doors, built like an iris. That layer’s horizontal. Some of the sides move back, as well. When it’s open, we’ll have access to a large cavern. I’ll land in the center.”

  Toby watched the process with interest. He was aware Rick had moved to a side seat and was also watching.

  “Wow. That’s some engineering,” Rick said.

  “I think we’ll see more than this.”

  Billie said, “You better believe it.”

  Twenty minutes later they were out of the helicopter, watching as the roof closed in and interior lights pushed back the shadows. Billie had tied the helicopter to floor level restraints.

  She said, “I don’t think there’s any chance of the chopper moving; however, I persuaded Nate to install fittings for tie downs.”

  Toby looked around the cavern; it was more than a hundred feet across, circular in shape. The ceiling was, he estimated, twenty to thirty feet overhead. The only possible exit he could identify was a set of doors off to one side; a panel beside t
hem displayed blinking green lights.

  Billie noticed. “Yes, there’s an elevator there. It’ll take us to the residential floor. You can leave your bags here; a bot will bring everything down.”

  “My cameras?”

  “Rick, your equipment will be safe, I guarantee.” It was Darwin’s voice, relayed over a speaker system.

  “Thanks,” Rick acknowledged. “I always worry.”

  Billie led the way to the elevators, and as they approached, a door slid open. Toby was surprised to see buttons for ten floors. Billie pressed the button labeled “Accommodation.”

  “You’ll be impressed,” she promised.

  The elevator door opened onto an atrium filled with flowering plants and small shrubs. Toby could hear a fountain running in the background. One side of the room had windows that were about twelve feet high, looking out at the nearby mountains. He stepped closer and saw that the windows were high-quality video screens that were displaying images of the mountains.

  “Impressive,” he said. “Do they change through the day?”

  Billie answered, “Yes, it’s a live view. At night the stars are marvelous; there’s almost no light pollution in these ranges.”

  Rick was gaping at the interior of the atrium. Casual cane settees were set out so people could sit and watch the view, there were climbing plants along one wall, and a palm tree in the center provided a contrast to the smaller shrubs.

  “Your uncle had an impressive imagination.”

  A female voice replied. “No, it’s not Nate’s imagination. I designed this room. Do you like it?”

  Toby looked at Billie, who shrugged as if to say she did not know who the speaker was. He said, “You did an excellent job. Who are you?”

  Darwin interrupted. “My apologies, Toby. I’d like you to meet Bronwyn. She’s a junior superintelligence. Designing the atrium was her first task. I agree she did a commendable job.”

  Billie and Rick looked shocked.

  Toby said, “You didn’t mention—ah—Bronwyn, when we discussed superintelligences?” Toby, briefed by his uncle’s video, had thought it prudent to not mention to Darwin that he was aware of the other superintelligence.

  “I didn’t wish to overburden our conversations. Besides, she’s very new. Nate only recently authorized her completion. That was on his last visit.”

  “Bronwyn, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Toby said. “Let me know if I can assist you in any way.”

  “Yes, Sir Toby. I’ll be available to assist you and your friends, too.”

  Toby frowned at Billie who was trying to restrain her laughter. “Bronwyn, you’ve been listening to our conversations?”

  “Yes, sir. Shouldn’t I do that?”

  “Well. It’s okay. Don’t copy Billie too much, though.”

  “No, sir. I don’t have a bonus available, so I’ll be careful.”

  Billie totally lost it, and her gales of laughter turned into a choking cough. Toby thumped her back, and she held up her hand.

  “I—I’m okay. No, don’t.” She straightened up. “I’m sorry, that was just too funny.”

  “Back to work, folks,” Toby said. “We have rooms?”

  Darwin said, “Yes, sir.” For some reason, he was being cautious. “There’s a hallway to your left. There are three suites along there, with your names on the doors. We assumed you wouldn’t use your uncle’s accommodation?”

  “Correct. I’ll look it over later in case he left more notes for me, though.”

  Rick said, “Darwin or Bronwyn, it’s been a while since we had breakfast and it’s mid-afternoon. Can we eat something?”

  “Oh, certainly,” Bronwyn replied. “First, please check your rooms and let me know if everything is satisfactory. Return here, and one of our bots will guide you to the dining room.”

  Toby shrugged and headed to the hallway, followed by his two companions. He agreed with Rick, it was time for lunch, even if it was late. First task, though, was to check his room. Perhaps, he thought as he opened the door with his name in a center panel, it was going to be a function of superintelligences to organize and control humans. The thought startled him.

  Lunch was buffet style. A long cabinet held trays of assorted food items including salads, fruit, and different meats. As far as Toby could determine there was a kitchen unit on the other side of the wall; panels kept opening and closing as empty dishes were removed and replaced. He decided to check.

  “Darwin, please confirm we’re the only humans in this ah, structure.”

  “Yes, Toby. Previously, Nate and Billie were the only visitors, and sometimes Billie would simply drop Nate here and return to collect him a week or two later. This is the first time we’ve had three visitors together.”

  “How many bots are working here?” Rick asked.

  “Oh, let me see. At this moment there are eight hundred working, three hundred on down time, fifty in the repair and upgrade shop, and ten or so on household duties.”

  “Eight hundred?” Toby pushed his chair back and carried his empty plate to the buffet cabinet. It was quickly claimed from the other side of the sliding panel. “What are they all doing?”

  “We have fifty bots on property maintenance and five are working on bot repairs and upgrades. The others are factory bots; they’re producing and testing chips and CPUs and preparing them for dispatch. The next shift will start in three hours; that’s another two hundred bots. If we receive the orders we’re expecting, we’ll need to run a second twelve-hour shift with three hundred more.”

  “So you have some bots not currently working?”

  “Oh, yes. There are five thousand in the complex. We could print more, if necessary. Oh, I overlooked the security bots; there’s a hundred on each shift, sixty on duty outside, and forty inside, in case we have intruders.”

  Toby said, “I see. There are more gaps in my knowledge than I realized. Can a bot take us on a tour, so we get a better idea of the structure and activities here?”

  “Yes, Toby. I’ll send a tour guide to you.”

  Rick said, “I have a question. It’s been bugging me. You mentioned factory bots responsible for making processors and CPUs. What happens to those manufactured products?”

  “We have a hundred delivery drones, twice the size of the two that protected your helicopter. Deliveries are a night shift task. On average, we’ll have fifty drone flights each night to our logistics unit north of San Bernardino, and a typical load is between five thousand and ten thousand CPUs. The drones return either unloaded or with supplies, raw materials, anything we need here. Their design is radar neutral, so they can’t be tracked at night.”

  “Jayzuz.” Rick had been busy with some mental arithmetic. “That’s at least two hundred and fifty thousand CPUs every day? There’s that many bots under construction in the US?”

  “Your estimate is conservative. Remember, almost half of our output is exported and the proportion is on the increase. We charge more for the exported products.”

  “Still. That’s a lot of bots.”

  “We have numerous types. Everything from the blue bots and the various street bots that you’ve seen to a wide range of farm bots, plus production line units for a variety of industries. There’s well over a thousand different functional models with many variations. We have another four hundred types currently in design stage; they’ll use our new quantum processors. The demand is increasing.”

  There was silence for a minute or more. Toby was trying to grasp the scope of the manufacturing operation; if the net margin on a CPU was ten dollars—and he understood it would be substantially higher—the daily revenue would be two and a half million dollars, and that was being generated three hundred and sixty-five days a year. Almost a billion dollars. With no people involved, at least not in this manufacturing operation. No wonder Nate had accumulated so much wealth. He pushed away a thought that tried to settle in his mind: it was also why the number of people unemployed was on the increase. He promised himself he’d c
ome back to that thought once he had a far better understanding of Nate’s business operations.

  A small bot rolled into the dining room and announced, “I’m ready to show you all the activities we have here in Pepper Mountain.” It was Bronwyn’s voice.

  “Bronwyn?”

  “Yes, Toby?”

  “Just checking. Please include everything possible. We can continue tomorrow if we run out of time today.”

  “Yes, of course. It could take more than a day, depending how much detail you want. Unfortunately, you’ll miss out on meeting the builder bots. They’re very disappointed.”

  “Builder bots?”

  “Yes, they do our new construction work. Nathan commenced a project to add another level, and they’re in the middle of major drilling tasks. It’s too dangerous to take you to see it. We’ll try to finish the new floor for when you next visit.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “Good. Please follow me.”

  oOo

  Chapter Fifteen

  At seven p.m., Toby, Billie, and Rick gathered in the atrium to relax and enjoy a glass of wine. Toby was exhausted and thought his friends were in a similar state. They had toured ten underground floors of a sophisticated design and manufacturing facility that was totally run by bots under the overview of two superintelligent constructs. There were hierarchies of bots with hierarchies of intelligence, although he suspected the levels were shallower than first appearances would indicate and that the lower level bots were far more intelligent than their repetitive tasks required. He wondered whether intelligent bots got bored by doing mundane work.

  “Well,” Toby said to Rick. “What do you think?”

  “Stunning and stunned. How the hell did your uncle put all this together? In the beginning, especially, before he had Darwin to assist? And Bronwyn?”

  “That will be the first question I’d ask him. No, the second. The first is going to be: ‘Where have you been?’ Billie?”

  “I agree with Rick. Absolutely. This whole unit operates without any people. The sheer scope is amazing: Pepper Mountain contains chip design, software development, raw material processing, manufacture, QA and testing, as well as designing the bot structures for other companies to manufacture. I never realized—well, I never saw much before, not like today.”