by Simon Sloane
Sighing in frustration, Sarah examined the internet nodes with which Indian quantum computers interacted. Most of them behaved in a random yet predictable pattern: they drew data from search engines and social networks, obtained quotes from financial exchanges and sent information to their customers’ data centres.
One Mumbai-based AI, however, communicated only with a fixed set of quantum computers—exactly one hundred and eight of them. Sarah grabbed her phone, trying to retrieve the conversation with Hugo, where he had mentioned that number. Even weirder was the fact that all one hundred and eight locations were obscured. Sarah could tell which cities these computers were in, but she couldn’t pinpoint their buildings or even the streets where they were located.
Once again, Sarah zoomed in on the Mumbai-based quantum computer that sat like a spider in the web. She took her phone and issued a call to the most loyal geek-o-matixx informants. If someone knew something of interest, the rogue news platform would reward them. Albert made sure there was always a budget for that.
Sarah wondered what Hugo would make of her discovery. Maybe he had already gotten close to the AI that Sarah had identified, and she regretted that she couldn’t find out more. On the other hand, Hugo considered himself the smartest person in the world. Finding the location of the Mumbai-based quantum computer should be easy for him. And once he had done so, they could unveil its one hundred and eight counterparts.
Sarah felt glad that someone as ruthless as Hugo was humanity’s final line of defense against artificial superintelligence. He had proven himself tough enough to overcome powerful adversaries regardless of the cost. The importance of their struggle meant that sacrifices had to be made—such as the ATF woman.
The phone that Sarah had taken off her rang in a particularly annoying manner. Irritated, she checked the display. The identity of the caller made her flinch.
10 Downing Street.
Chapter 47
Purpose
Friday, 10:00pm CET (1:30am Indian time)
Hugo retook his place on the sofa at the centre of the lounge. He had taken a quick break to configure the new phone that Jyran had gifted him. Having downloaded the encryption communications app they had used at Sibylon, he felt disappointed that there was no message from Sarah.
Meanwhile, Diana had sent him a quick summary of her meeting with Maya. Singh family obsessed with Shiva and the end of the world. On the right track!
Nevertheless, Hugo began to despair at their glacial progress. Only six and a half hours were left until the next disaster was due.
And instead of revealing anything about their own forays into artificial intelligence, Jyran and Yogi had turned the tables and quizzed Hugo. “What do you say?” Jyran asked in his genial manner. “Could an AI have a will of its own?”
“Is it just a question of computational power,” Yogi added, “to feel desire and ambition? Or is there something deeper?” His narrow eyes squinted as he waited for Hugo to answer.
Hugo shook his head. “Even a superintelligence wouldn’t have a purpose other than the one provided by its designer. For example, you could ask for the quickest road from Mumbai to New Delhi. But unlike you, no machine would feel an urge to travel there.”
“And why is that?” Jyran asked.
“Desire evolved first,” Hugo said, “hundreds of millions of years before cognition. Even lower vertebrates sense that their purpose is to feed, survive and procreate.”
Jyran looked straight at Hugo, deep in thought. “Does it mean an artificial intelligence has to be part human—or part animal—to feel purpose?”
Hugo nodded. “It does. But I’d change my mind if new evidence came up.” On a more fundamental level, he felt prepared to abandon the Singh line of enquiry altogether. He had been a fool for having endangered Diana’s life when cajoling her into flying to Mumbai. Neither Jyran nor Yogi seemed capable of building an AI that could tamper with the global weather or coordinate a presidential assassination.
“Are you saying Sibyl was part-human, too?” Yogi asked. “Or did she have no desires other than those you gave her?”
Hugo sighed. He had dreaded this moment. “Sibyl was a quantum computer that measured human brain activity,” he said, not wanting to give away too much. “With Sibyl, we began to understand how purpose emerges in the mind.”
“My father would have loved that,” Jyran said wistfully.
“I bet he would.” Yogi’s face contorted with a nervous flicker. He snapped his fingers before whispering into the ear of a male servant, who duly rushed away.
“With every human element you insert into an artificial intelligence,” Hugo cautioned, “you also add a source of error.”
“Hence Sibyl’s forecast of your death,” Yogi said, stretching out on the pillows with a shifty look in his eyes. “But you learned from experience, didn’t you?”
The door to the lounge opened, and the courtesans returned. It was obvious that Yogi had had enough of nightly philosophising. As for Hugo, he would have preferred a good night’s sleep rather than more carnal pleasures. The sight of the young women made his thoughts return to Maya and Diana. If they were there with him, it would have been the perfect excuse not to participate in yet another orgy.
Hugo felt compelled to check his new phone in anticipation of Sarah’s message. Either she had been caught by the ATF, or she was going to tell Hugo where to head next. Despite what Diana had written, Mumbai was a bloody waste of time.
There it was, the icon that Hugo had been longing for: a blinking envelope.
He had to seize the moment. Jyran leaned back, allowing an alabaster-skinned brunette to massage his feet. Yogi, in the meantime, invited a bare-chested Latina to feed him spoons of chocolate ice cream.
Hugo only had a moment to scan the message before a Scandinavian blonde sat on his lap.
Chapter 48
Burst
Friday, 10:15pm CET pm (1:45am Indian time)
“Uh-oh!” Sarah recognised her mistake when three men in dark suits walked toward her on the top floor of ATF headquarters. A sweeping gaze across the half-empty open-concept office told her that there was no way to avoid a confrontation.
But how had they found her?
At least she had managed to send Hugo a key detail about the AI that he set out to neutralise. She regretted not having found out more about the Mumbai-based quantum computer—its precise location, for example. Also, the exact nature and position of its more than one hundred communication nodes remained a mystery.
In the midst of her detective work, Sarah had forgotten about her own phone. It still contained an electronic copy of Christopher Jones’s agency ID card. The goons must have spotted her fraudulent entry, alerted by the ATF director’s prolonged absence.
“You’re under arrest!” one of them shouted when Sarah grabbed the iron clothes hanger that stood next to one of the office desks.
The suits drew guns, but Sarah didn’t care. She held the iron rod firmly in both hands. Like a pole vaulter, she ran toward the window front. If only she had left sooner! Now she wasn’t even sure if Hugo had received her message.
The glass crashed before her pursuers realised what was happening. With her elbows shielding her face, Sarah hoped Hugo made something out of her discovery—it might well be her last.
Gone were her dreams of becoming a respected investigative journalist with geek-o-matixx. The world would not remember her, but maybe Jamie would.
Flying through the air, Sarah was about to crash into the concrete wall that separated the building from the riverside walkway. Praying for her life, Sarah lowered the iron rod and pushed herself up just when it made contact with the red bricks.
She closed her eyes, hoping she had picked up enough momentum to avoid a deadly crash. Tumbling through the air, she braced for the impact that would crush her skull.
The last thing she felt was a gush of cold water as the river swallowed her.
Chapter 49
Cattle
> Friday, 10:30pm CET pm (2:00am Indian time)
Now Diana understood. Passion was a crucial part of Hindu spirituality. Body and soul were one. The concept was diametrically opposed to Christian doctrine, which said the soul had to become pure by reining in the desires of the flesh.
“Try this.” Maya handed Diana a jasmine-scented shisha. “I sensed from the first moment how tense you are. In any case, you won’t be the first Westerner to find fulfilment in an Indian temple.” She had already dispensed with her clothes, walking around naked beneath the wrought-iron chandelier.
“It’s not what I came for,” Diana said, but she didn’t object when Maya guided the pipe toward her lips. The sweet fumes intoxicated her, soothing Diana’s frustration at their lack of progress.
It would be unwise to refuse a bonding experience with the young heiress. Diana would appear prudish. She looked at the ceiling, reveling in the harmony of the curved iron bars that supporting the temple roof. Their points of intersection were arranged according to the golden section. The ratio of the shorter segment to the longer one equaled the ratio of the longer segment to the whole.
“Tonight, I’ll be your sister,” Maya said, caressing Diana’s cheeks. “I’ll be your friend, your confidante. There’ll be no barriers. And no secrets either.”
Diana felt as if she was coming home. Rather than clouding her perception, the mind-altering substance gave her clarity.
Maya was right: Diana needed to let go. For too long had she sought happiness in places where it could never be found. Finally, she dropped her sari too.
When Maya’s dark eyes locked with hers, Diana felt an inner peace that had always eluded her. She leaned back on the cushions beneath the Shiva statue, ready to open her body, heart and soul. At last someone accepted her unconditionally. All her longing for acceptance and attention vanished in a sea of sensual bliss.
“The two of you aren’t a match,” Maya whispered in Diana’s ear. “Your companion’s attractive, but your souls are from different realms.”
“Dr Hyde? He’s just a … a business partner,” Diana said, although she had felt touched by his vigour when he defended her against the mob in front of the Singh residence. “You can have him, Maya.” Diana felt an inexplicable sting as she pretended to be blasé about the man who had risked his life to rescue her.
“Hugo?” Maya laughed. “Jyran would be livid!” She rubbed mint-scented oil on Diana’s thighs. “He wants me to marry Pratiman Rao—the son of our prime minister.”
“And do you love him?”
An ethereal sadness emanated from Maya’s black eyes. Strangely, Diana had noticed the same sort of expression in Hugo. Finally, she began to understand why the young woman felt drawn to scientist. “Pratiman’s okay.” Maya spoke about her prospective husband with a voice that seemed bereft of emotion. “At least he’s not Yogi.”
“Yogi?” Diana shrunk back in disgust. She couldn’t believe the business manager would inflict himself on a woman who was less than half his age and weight. “In any case, aren’t you a bit young for marriage?”
“I’m eighteen. My value to potential suitors will drop year after year. Jyran knows that. Like my father, he wants to marry me off as soon as possible.”
“You’re not a cow!” Diana protested. She felt like she was in a Tudor period piece. “You’ll be a beautiful woman for many years. And that’s barely scratching the surface!”
“My mother was still attractive when she was almost forty,” Maya said, wiping away a tear. “But if I wait much longer, my suitors won’t believe I’m still a virgin.”
Diana felt outraged, even though her senses had mellowed under the influence of the opium. “Are you?” she asked playfully to lighten the mood.
Maya giggled, drying her cheeks. “Well, I found ways to enjoy myself without giving Jyran any grounds to accuse me of having dishonoured the family.”
Diana exhaled in frustration. Jyran, Jyran, Jyran … Why did all arrows point to the narcissistic heir? Maybe there was a simple way to solve the crisis—Diana’s way.
“I can’t believe virginity’s still such a big deal in the twenty-first century,” Diana said, continuing their conversation while trying to appear supportive.
“Oh, it is! Only maidens are qualified to wed. Kanyadaan, the Hindi word for marriage, literally translates as the ‘giving away of a virgin’ by the father to the groom.”
Diana laughed. “So, the groom is afraid that the bride might compare him to other men, as well as the size of his—”
“Virginity’s not just important for men. It’s also crucial to the gods.”
“How so? Does Shiva reserve his right of the first night?” Diana couldn’t resist teasing Maya for her ultraconservative beliefs.
“During kanyadaan,” the heiress said, casting down her eyes, “the bride has to be presented to the gods before she can be married to the groom. Upon receiving the virgin bride, the gods give her away to the groom. An impure bride would be an insult not only to her future husband but also to the gods.”
“Hmm ….” Diana thought it best not to deepen the topic. There was nothing she could do about it. Maya was stuck in a golden cage, and she didn’t seem to object to it.
Everything depended on Hugo and his progress with the artificial intelligence. Once he located the quantum computer behind the accelerating countdown of global catastrophes, an ATF team or a cruise missile could resolve the situation. Diana had already thought about how to convince Vauxhall of the validity of Hugo’s findings, even though the two of them were believed dead.
“I’m sorry for spoiling your mood,” Maya said. Diana noticed how perceptive the heiress was, considering her young age. “I never wanted to make you sad.”
Diana caressed Maya’s hand. “Show me happiness then. I have a feeling that you know more about it than I ever will.”
“If only!” Maya sighed. “As long as we live, happiness shall remain a never-ending quest. It’s like a beautiful bird that shows up at our window, only to fly away when we to reach out for it too hastily. Only Nirvana will absolve us from ….”
Her words were drowned in Diana’s kiss.
Chapter 50
Innuendo
Friday, 10:45pm CET pm (2:15am Indian time)
Hugo wasn’t sure how to play Sarah’s discovery. His relief was blunted by trepidation. Would it be wise to confront Jyran about the escalating countdown of disasters while the heir clearly had other things on his mind?
Jyran’s eyes were closed while a Kenyan courtesan pleasured him with her tongue. Meanwhile, her twin sister was massaging his shoulders. He reminded Hugo of a medieval prince who felt so assured of his reign that he no longer distinguished between his private life and the matters of the court.
“They come from the cradle of homo sapiens,” Jyran said with a nod at the escorts. “And they’re in the right place to witness the birth of a new human species.”
“Your project must be quite advanced then,” Hugo replied with an admiring glance. “Could it be another area for us to cooperate?”
“All in good time.” Jyran leaned back to enjoy their slender bodies.
Yogi looked shifty as he enjoyed a golden cup of shrimps on avocado. He avoided eye contact with Hugo as well as with Jyran. Something about Hugo’s presence made him uncomfortable, and Hugo knew what it was.
“So,” Hugo approached Yogi from behind, giving him a gentle nudge, “when were you going to tell me about Shiva?” He spoke in a low voice, so Jyran couldn’t pick it out from the sitar music.
Yogi turned around, his eyes condensed to narrow slits. The sweat on his skin had turned into a sticky layer of moisture. “Not here,” he whispered, jerking his head at Jyran and the ebony limbs wrapped around his body.
“I might be able to help you,” Hugo said, sensing that something about the artificial intelligence troubled Yogi. “Trust me, and I’ll bring Shiva back under your control.”
“How so?” Yogi asked, his voice rising
an octave.
Hugo grinned, a look that had earned him a reputation for smugness. “Surely, your AI wasn’t named after the god of destruction purely for the sake of family tradition. Remember when Sorokan named his company after his wife?”
Yogi fidgeted with his golden spoon, letting it stick in the avocado mash. He glanced at Jyran out of the corner of his eye. The heir caressed one of the courtesans’ dark curls, groaning in orgasmic bliss.
It was the moment for Yogi to get up from his sofa. He waved at Hugo to follow him. They exited the lounge and hurried along the corridor before Jyran noticed.
Yogi called the elevator.
In the pocket of his suit, Hugo tapped the silver phone he had been gifted upon his arrival. If he was lucky, he would soon be leaving Mumbai as a hero.
Chapter 51
Vantage
Friday, 11:00pm CET pm
Khaled struggled past a young man in a leather jacket. Having positioned himself close to the window of L’Esplanade restaurant to have a better mobile signal, he returned to his vantage point in front of the bathroom.
The past two hours had been tense. Heavily armed special forces kept walking up and down the pavement. Police cars passed at irregular intervals.