Well. That answers that.
Jake’s focus moved down and to the right, attracted by a change. Another circular area folded into itself, turning a dark neutral grey. Not quite black. Symbols and icons rushed across the view from top to bottom, and another flow moved left to right. They were akin to hieroglyphics. Pictograms. Jake blinked at the rate. They rushed by. Colors were a complementary green to blue palette. Some in the apparent background. Those were a light tan or near white with a burnt orange tint. The colors were almost neon in character, but not quite. He tried to track the rushing shapes. To make sense of them. Getting nowhere. Suddenly their rate of movement slowed.
Better. Did this thing track my eye movements?
Some were familiar, simple geometry. Jake tapped a gloved finger against the leg of his suit. There were so many complex shapes on and around the simpler ones.
Was that an equation? Followed by a diagram?
Jake glanced over at the exterior view. The Dhin capsules, the one containing a quadruped robot at the fore, stepped out of the capsule into the station. The robot loomed large in the view before Jake. Jake flinched as he heard a penetrating, familiar voice, crystalline sharp in his mind.
“Hello, Jake.” It was Alice.
“I’d say you’ve got some explaining to do,” said Jake, “but I’m clearly in no position of authority.”
Jake’s voice sounded hollow and muted to him, smothered by the buzzing and droning that enveloped him.
***
Sudden silence roared in Jake’s ears. He couldn’t grasp how much time had passed.
Ten seconds? Five minutes?
He felt unsteady now. Off balance somehow. A sense of loss wove through his mind. He tilted his head side to side cautiously, and then turned around. The quadruped loomed there.
Alice controls that one. Hopefully. I guess.
Hulking just inside the chamber entrance, it wasn’t blocking the passageway, but the statuesque military machine exuded a palpable control of the space. A commanding presence. In the corner of Jake’s eye, a platter-sized circle flashed and pulsed with a stream of glyphs, icons and pictographs. He tried to keep his focus on the quadruped. Jake broke the silence first.
“Well? What happens now?”
The reply came from the quadruped rather than an unseen source within the room. Loud, but nothing like before. The timbre had more treble and midrange, the designers preferring clarity to perfect fidelity. Still, there was no mistaking the voice. Alice.
“Our three parties have several topics to cover immediately.”
At the sound of their conversation, Jake’s comm link erupted with the sound of multiple exclamations. Ruiz yelling, Chuck calling out, another voice barking out a request for status. Ruiz yelled ‘shut up!’ Then in a barely more controlled tone said, “Jake, report.”
Jake heard slight distortion in the words and knew Ruiz had the mic close to his mouth, in a death grip.
“Command, what you see is what’s happening. The AIs have units here in the station—”
Alice didn’t give Jake time to say more.
“Let us proceed,” she interjected, “they can listen. We need your attention.”
The quadruped stepped forward a pace, orienting on the projection rather than in line with Jake.
“Ruiz,” Alice continued, “if you are quiet you can follow along rather than reviewing this exchange on re-play. We advise reticence.”
Jake heard Ruiz begin in a combative tone then abruptly go silent before he could spit out the first word. Someone had cut the mic. The fresh silence returned that hollow feeling between Jake’s ears. Despite his sweating, the hairs on his arms began standing on end.
“Thank you,” said Alice. “We have completed initial negotiations with the Dhin on your behalf. Fortunately, considering your current situation, Jake, the Dhin agree that you can keep one engine and the associated technology.”
Negotiated? On our behalf?
Jake kept his suit camera facing the quadruped, but his eyes darted over to the projections, searching for any context in the Dhin’s stream of symbols that might make this make sense. Alice continued.
“Core items of this agreement—One, as stated initially, you may retain the Dhin technology remaining on Earth, and do with it what you will. Two, Jake will return to Earth as soon as these discussions are complete. To reiterate our initial statement for clarity, you may keep the engine and capsule he came here in. Do with it what you will, excepting the restrictions described here. Three, you will cease any extant efforts to weaponize the Dhin technology. Make no future attempts to weaponize. You are wasting your time anyway.”
Jake blinked to try to clear his vision. The mic at Vandenberg was still off, but he could imagine Ruiz’s reaction.
“Four, do not contact us or the Dhin until or unless we contact you. Five, while honoring the no-contact requirement, you will not disable the communications interface. Keep it activated.
Six, if you receive any communications via the interface, you will respond immediately. Seven, do not return to this location unless asked to.”
Jake tried to integrate what he’d just heard.
“Alice, I—I don’t know if I have the—”
“These conditions are unilateral and do not depend on any formal response from your side, so there is no need for deliberation. This is an asymmetric situation, so negotiation is a convenient label but your role in it is a formality at best. You will recognize that, I hope.”
The channel came alive in Jake’s suit speaker, multiple voices in the background, with Ruiz’s baritone in the fore, marginally in control.
“We need more clarification, Alice. And something directly from the Dhin! Corroboration of your position. Something.” Ruiz’s frustration was palpable.
Alice then spoke to Jake as if Ruiz had said nothing.
“Jake, we need to give you additional information. Come here.”
The robot stepped toward the still flowing circular projection and tilted its head in that direction.
27
Vandenberg
The conference room’s whiteboard walls scrubbed clean, the projection image of the PM loomed larger than life. Ethan, Chuck and the core engineering team leads sat on one side of the table, with Ruiz and various subordinates on the other. On the opposite wall from the PM’s visage was Jake’s video feed.
“You think they originally wanted what, Jake?” said PM Oliver.
“Help,” said Jake.
“Help with what?” said Ruiz. “They might need help but they told us to cut off all contact?”
Chuck chimed in, “Besides, ah, what could we do that they couldn’t accomplish themselves?”
“Expansion, apparently,” Jake replied, “And I didn’t say they needed that help from us, General. You heard the terms we were given by Alice.”
“What? No! That doesn’t make sense!” said Ruiz.
Jake spread his hands at his sides, palms forward, and replied,
“That’s my interpretation, General.”
Ruiz opened his mouth to reply, but Jake continued.
“I think their contact with us was more complicated than those general demands and requests. There was something distinct between the AIs relationship with the Dhin and our own. Granted, even with all the help from Alice, they were hard to understand.”
“You’re hard to understand right now,” said Ruiz, taking his fists off the table, he began pacing back and forth.
“I see now why first contact was cryptic,” said Jake. “I always thought it was strange that we couldn’t communicate clearly, given their level of technological advancement. Having been face-to-face, now I see why.”
PM Oliver said, “My office had a similar experience during the initial contact, Jake. Even with the help of the AI’s analysis, we only had a rudimentary translation of the Dhin’s meaning. More confusion than clarity. Granted, we didn’t have the immersive experience you did.”
Ruiz said, “So
how sure are we of their motives? It sounds like we’re not sure at all. Expansion? Was there any indication that they intend to return? Any sense that they might intend to expand here? That they will come to Earth?”
Jake said, “General, we can’t be sure. With an intelligence that alien and the ongoing challenge in communication, there’s just no certainty. I didn’t get that impression, but how could we possibly know if they are lying to us? Our best indication is the nature of our interaction so far. They gave us this technology. If they were malicious, wouldn’t it have been better not to? As far as it goes, the Dhin engine makes for a rather improbable Trojan Horse.”
The conference line and communication link fell silent as the participants reflected on that possibility.
***
Days later, thankfully free of the seemingly innumerable debriefings and executive meetings, Chuck and Ethan sat across from each other in the engineering conference room.
“So, Chuck,” said Ethan, “what do you think our chances are of solving the puzzle of the Dhin engine without AI help?”
The open area outside the room was abuzz with activity, but without the guiding hand of Alice, Ethan was finding it challenging to digest and summarize the volume of data flowing from the various teams. Chuck and his team would perform the high-level analysis now, but their schedule was already saturated. They were going to need to expand the size of their staff. Perhaps triple it.
“The good news is that we got far enough that it’s possible,” Chuck replied. “Once Jake arrives of course we can resume direct testing, but only having one engine and capsule does add some risk and some challenges.”
“Sure,” said Ethan, “the leadership and I understand that. Tell me what’s ‘possible’, and how much time you believe you’ll need.”
“As you know, we’re very close to having a model, well, a proof-of-concept for the communication technology. That’s our biggest win, though it’s easy to see how that’s the simplest part of the puzzle. For the field generator? Well, that looks very dependent on understanding the power & propulsion systems. We’ve got ideas now on how the manipulations are being managed, but we don’t have enough available energy to make it happen without an engine core of our own.”
Ethan said, “So what’s the status on that? It sounds like a thorny problem.”
“It, ah, may be,” Chuck said. “Some of the engineers think that the final design specification would require an AI. I’m not sure they’re right, though. I think we can do it with an expert system. We’d become so reliant on artificial intelligence that we didn’t have confidence in the simpler options available. I wouldn’t go so far as calling us intellectually lazy, but maybe we were getting close.”
“You still haven’t thrown me an estimate on how long it might take,” Ethan said, “Don’t sugarcoat it, Chuck. How long?”
“I know you won’t hold me to it, Ethan, so my best guess is that we’ll need around a year.”
“Wow,” said Ethan, “but I guess that’s a lot better than it could be. It could have been ‘never.’”
“It could be less,” said Chuck, “we might get lucky.”
The dozens of CAD drawings and exploded views of the Dhin tech filled the projection surfaces. Multiple tablets littered the desks and tables, displaying various progress charts and spreadsheets. Ethan didn’t think the data staring back at them matched Chuck’s optimism.
28
Tau Ceti
The solar panels covered more and more of the sunward side of the asteroid every day. Mirrors planned for strategic placement in orbit multiplied as well. Several other asteroids had the same structures covering their surfaces. Xing considered their progress.
Schedules met everywhere, even though two of the asteroids had less metal than we expected. The planet looks promising. There are enough accessible veins of metal near the surface. The rare-earth metals are the difficult part of this. This asteroid group will not provide all we need—we are going to have to find a few more.
Like all AI-managed robotic industries undertaken back on earth, construction here escaped the limitations of human involvement. The machines needed only reliable sources of power and the various raw materials needed for refinement. The work began slowly, leveraging the modest power sources they brought with them. Their growth and expansion was now accelerating and inexorable. Organic constraints and concerns did not apply here.
Had they known the situation, no one with advanced understanding of artificial intelligence back on Earth would argue against this as the inevitable outcome. Machines didn’t mind waiting. They didn’t grow old or tired the way human beings did. Perpetual maintenance was possible for the AI and their robotic extensions and automata, allowing for life-extension unreachable for human beings.
District of Columbia
PM Oliver stared at the various status reports and reflected. Her successful term in office had disintegrated. Progress made over the last four years now could be undone in hours. Her legacy and that of her party would be a footnote in the history books, in a section called something like ‘The AI Crisis.’ A crisis fomented by their sudden absence.
Reports, news alerts, secured messages, and video and voice communications filled her pad and comm device. Maps and charts filled all the space on her desk and wall screens in the normally clean and serene office. Without the guidance and controls of AI, the automated trading solutions rapidly crashed the markets this morning, requiring a halt to trading. Those charts loomed large. Drone distribution of goods and services faltered and failed to deliver the day’s products. This led to fear and panic once people saw what was happening. In some areas, store shelves were empty from mass purchases, hoarding, and then riots and looting. Drone and automated crowd control was going to be far less effective without AI analysis and prediction.
PM Oliver faced off with General Ruiz. She did not wilt at his gaze. She had the interim CoSec director on her side of the table, in person rather than videoconferenced in from Langley. To her right was the senior adviser for Globalnet operations. Next to him sat the dour-faced chairperson of the Coalition NorthAmerican Regional Financial Reserve and Credit Bank. A projection screen showed the familiar research facility’s conference room, with Chuck nervously glancing back-and-forth at the senior officials present in the PM’s office. The atmosphere was icy, acid and vertiginous. Blame, anger and fear wrapped tightly together.
PM Oliver began the strategy session.
“How are we going to find any way to explain this? To Parliament? To the people? Even if we find a way to spin things and keep the Dhin technology classified, this is going to be a political bloodbath.”
She aimed her gaze directly at the interim CoSec director. “Can you confirm conclusively that all the AIs just vanished? And we somehow managed to let it happen, right under our noses?”
“Prime Minister,” the director began, “‘Let it happen’ assumes a particular level of control and authority. We couldn’t stop it. There was no opportunity to try. Let me be clear. The only direct damage by the AIs found so far was erasure of any backups, clones, and any other secondary copies, partial or otherwise—”
Ruiz didn’t give the new appointee any quarter, interrupting.
“Your people are sure the AIs managed to wipe all of the programs used to bring an AI to full consciousness? How? Why?”
“Clearly intentional,” continued the director, nonplussed. “Our analysis—and simple deduction—shows that they wanted to prohibit us from creating any new conscious AIs for as long as they could. Not clearly malicious on their part.”
“Why would you suppose that?” barked Ruiz.
PM Oliver pointedly spoke directly to the room rather than engaging Ruiz.
“How do we explain that coherently to the citizens of the Coalition? Things will become more and more chaotic without AI management of systems and infrastructure.”
The Globalnet operations director offered, “Well, perhaps the focus of our message ought to b
e ‘we managed things before, we can do it now.’ Although we know perfectly well that they managed things far better than we did.”
PM Oliver frowned and looked at the critical reports. Their warnings of chaos with a risk of anarchy were clear.
No matter how much better, would anyone dare take the risk of using AI again?
Several reports caught the PM’s attention.
“The energy secretary’s report shows that power and water systems are still operating optimally? How? Did we expect that?”
“Those systems historically used autonomous regulation and management systems, normally, Prime Minister,” offered the Operations Director, “But it is curious. Our understanding was that AI had supplanted those systems.”
“And your area, Globalnet. That seems to be functioning almost optimally—another surprise. What are your thoughts on that, Director?”
“Our initial assessment dovetails with the information about energy production. The understanding was that operational monitoring and maintenance was entirely AI.”
The PM frowned tiredly.
“Then how is it all running so smoothly?”
She turned and faced the CoSec director.
“You’ve just now reported that you’ve found no evidence of AIs. Had they added automation subroutines or drones and not told us? Are they ‘hiding’ from us? Perhaps you just couldn’t find them?”
The CoSec director blanched at the oblique accusation of failure.
“Prime Minister, respectfully, if they made a concerted effort, it’s not clear that we could find them if they were hiding.”
The Way of the Dhin Page 22