The Unlicensed Consciousness

by Travis Borne

  “But, how can I run this?” Jon freaked, his voice elevated. “It will take me years just to learn what you’ve done, much less be able to manage or fix anything if the need arises.”

  “Once the AI is activated it will handle itself. It will learn fast, exponentially. You’ll have—almost—nothing to worry about. You’ll have to decide what to do with the team, how to use them, and if they are still needed, although with the AI it is doubtful they will continue here.” He rotated to face Jon. “Jon—much will be doubtful after that.”

  “So, what’s the downfall? What’s going to happen? What’s your conclusion? I know how you think, especially after what you told us last night. So just tell me, what do you predict?”

  Herald paused and gazed again toward the grey city below, then sighed. “I see fast changes, Jon. I see life as we know it gone.” He waved his hand, scooping up an imaginary handful of the metropolis. Just waking minutes earlier, he could feel his sleep cycle was still locking onto the REM state—dreaming. Mixing with the Pro-Con, he saw a chunk of the city in his hand and destruction taking place below: fire, explosions, screams—death. “All of this, gone. It will start small at first and build faster. What we have created here will become smarter and more powerful than humans, and eventually, overwhelm us. We won’t be the smartest species on the planet any longer—not by far. But I do see it taking to our way of life, or helping us to support it, at first—using us.”

  He turned and walked back to the counter. “And you, Jon. You’ll have to go where your heart takes you during the transition that I know is coming, I feel it, but—I want to create something special for us. It’s something that might allow us, maybe even humanity, a chance. Hold on.” He went to the lab and came right back. “Here’s the file. Take it. You can read up on the details over the weekend then divvy the assignments to your team on Monday. Jon do not—I am trusting you—let anyone get word that this is anything different than another set of algorithms. I’ve designed it so the plans will appear no different from those on project Archeus. If it gets out it’ll blow the whole damn thing.”

  “Okay then, tell me, Herald,” Jon said, his excitement now completely squashed. “What is this other project?” He stood looking at the shimmering green file in his hand. It was not the standard black card used by Meddlinn.

  You’ll see when you read what I’ve sent you. I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Have a good weekend, Jon.”

  “All right, Herald. You too, and it was a great night. Like old—” Jon cut himself off, only whispering his last words because Herald crossed back into his bedroom, leaving him alone. He heard Herald’s bathroom door shut, then left the apartment. Passing through the LAB, Jon headed to his desk. Through the one-way glass he could see the team waiting anxiously.

  33. The File

  The six who came in were waiting for Jon at the round table. He approached his usual spot. “Okay, all set. I just wanted to convey a big congrats to everyone regarding the hard work you’ve done. I turned in the completed algorithms and we have another set to start. The project is coming along well. You all can take off now. Have a nice weekend and I’ll see everyone on Monday.” They anxiously left after saying their goodbyes, leaving Jon alone in the huge room. He plopped into his chair at the round table, leaned back, then pulled the file from his pocket and stared at it for a moment while spinning it around in his fingers.

  Jodi didn’t come in. He wished she was with him now. She usually accompanied him when he had to come in on Saturday but had toilet-hugger syndrome, the worst Jon had ever seen from her, even with hangover pills. Most of the team usually had Saturdays off. Some came when there was a project deadline, like today; they would rotate for the half day.

  Jon went to his desk—could’ve went straight home to Jodi but found himself unable to think of anything else; he wanted to see what it was. He dropped the file onto his reader and his screen lit up: VERIFYING PRESENCE. A little slower and far less powerful than Herald’s machine but it had the same Meddlinn Technologies patented SecuraSense process. It opened, taking longer than most files to do so. He noticed its creation date had been several months earlier, and began to read:

  BLOCKER V1.0 : Device protocols, blueprints and software proposals.

  FUNCTION : AI offset / translate all input / SCRAMBLE.

  This device will in effect scramble all input signals for any machine running project Archeus AI software, as well as most other standard sensors: heat, infrared, visual, sonic (for full listing see index).

  MODE 1: Standard power save = 2 meters +/- 1

  MODE 2: High power usage. Stealth area vicinity = 8 meters +/- 2

  MODE 3: SD-Stun (LAST RESORT ONLY)

  Prototype specifications and details are as follows.

  Boggled and eyes wide, Jon scrolled down to see the rest of the complex plans. He realized it must have taken years to create something like this—then he thought of Herald working; he thought of Herald working while he and the rest of the team had been on easy street since the project began. Partying, time off, weekends free, amazing workspace—easy street was an understatement.

  It was a small device no thicker than an old cell phone. The inner structure was complicated unlike anything Jon had seen previously and there were complete blueprints along with software outlines. The entire thing gave him an ominous feeling and he began to grasp what Herald was explaining, what he had shrugged aside mostly. It put a gloomy shadow over the entire project—the project he’d been participating in for almost a year—which now, he felt different about. He’s always ten steps ahead of us, Jon thought. He closed his computer and peered over his desk. The eerie feeling had him somewhat spooked.

  He realized just then, had Herald wanted, he could’ve had a larger team, or a full building full of teams working 24/7, but he didn’t. The truth was he never had needed anyone, at least not near as much as everyone thought. It wouldn’t look right to the board, he realized, that’s why things had to be lavish, un-resourceful, all-out extreme.

  If what Herald thinks is true, things really are going to get crazy. The AI we have been working to create is…not going to be friendly. It’s eventually going to kill humans, exterminate our race? Jon’s thoughts raced, which wasn’t normal for him because he’d always been such a clear-minded and stable thinker. I trust Herald. I have to stand by him and support whatever he has planned. And with that Jon calmed and took a breath. A reliance and trust in Herald relieved him; as an optimist, it’s just where his thoughts led, had always led. But anyway, Herald’s got it covered, he told himself. Not wanting to risk the file getting compromised, he slipped it into the WIPE SLOT of his notebook. If SecuraSense detected any other presence during power up, or an attempt to remove the file, a nanosecond flash would erase it. He lifted his notebook from the Meddlinn Technologies CHARGELINK Pad and the duo of screens on its right and left read DISCONNECTED then went black. Changing thoughts, and thinking of Jodi who always helped, he headed out for the weekend with a change of mood.

  As he pushed the elevator button he heard it.

  “Shit,” he said before answering—he knew from the ringtone. “Hello, this is Jon.”

  “Hello, Jon, it’s Nancy. I know you turned in quite a bit of work today. We’ve been keeping a close eye on your progress. Anyway, we’ve just found out that Korea added an additional ten billion to advance—”

  “I know, Nancy, I’ve been following that.” His eyes rolled up. Last week she’d mentioned China, making the ten-billion-dollar budget increase the Koreans added look like chump change.

  “—not to mention Sweden, Jon. Well, I figured you would already know but I don’t have to tell you the importance of being first to achieve this. If they get the job done before us—Jon it will not end up well for our company. Are you there, Jon?”

  “Still here, Nancy.”

  “Time is almost up on this contract you know.”

  “I know, Nancy. We are on schedule.”

  “Anyway, can you draft a
report for the board? They’re getting antsy and have doubts. And I must say, I’m beginning to wonder myself.” Jon could hear someone else breathing impatiently next to her. He imagined her naked, next to a few men who were getting eager. He heard her take a drag. “I worry if Rab, and your team can really pull this off.” He heard her blow out her smoke. Jon exhaled too. He knew it, Herald had predicted they’d do exactly this. And since he’d strictly told them—using kick-to-the-face words nonetheless—and had it in writing, not to be bugged, they were bugging him, number two. It was the worst part of the job.

  “He dumped the nickname, Nancy,” Jon said, changing the subject. “He’s going by Herald now.”

  “Ooh,” she said with a high swoop. Jon pictured her head jerking back. “Well, that’s—”

  “Nancy, I’ll be straight with you,” he said with a change in tone: direct, faster, and blunt—like Herald spoke, a quality he wished he could pull off as well. “I’ve seen firsthand what Rab, I mean, Herald—I’m still getting used to it myself. What I mean to say is, I think his gift extends far beyond what we can comprehend. Our entire team can only do so much, but I’ve seen glimpses of his work, and I have to say, it’s almost beyond—”

  Nancy peeped. Jon thought he heard a slap.

  There was an odd pause after the noise then he continued, “Herald outperforms our entire team by a hundredfold.” He lied to her. But, he couldn’t tell her the truth. It was more like a thousandfold, or a million, that would be closer to the fact. But that would sound ludicrous. “If anyone can do it—Nancy, we are going to pull this off.”

  “Thank you for the reassurance. I still expect a full report summary of progress on my desk Tuesday morning before our weekly board meeting. I’ll also pass along your optimistic words to the board this weekend so they don’t get any rash ideas. We would like this project completed soon. And I would have asked Rab—Herald, but I wanted a different perspective, and since you are second in rank for this—”

  Yeah right, Jon thought. Herald won’t have you bugging him. I’d actually like to see that again. Jon grinned to himself, about to start laughing out loud, remembering her atomic-red cheeks. Then he heard it again, more clearly, followed by another peep. It was a slap for sure and he could hear at least two others in the background.

  “—I thought it might offer some different perspectives on our progress if you put together a—on second thought, I would like for you to sit in with us for this Tuesday’s meeting, if you would.”

  Jon sighed. He had to let this one out so held a hand over the speaker. “Will do, Nancy,” he replied cheerfully with an insuppressible hint of sarcasm. “I’ll have that summary for you Tuesday, before the board meeting. Have a nice weekend, Nancy.”

  “And to you, Jon.”

  Jon already hung up a half second earlier. He thought, with this new baggage of burden, he loved coding, but hated… But he thought again how Herald worked so hard while they had it easy. He pressed the elevator lobby button and the doors closed.

  This project is probably the greatest undertaking of mankind and it’s treated like…just another company investment with little regard for the real implications. It is all about the money. And, if Herald is right, we don’t know what we’re messing with, we really are playing with fire. Oh well—his optimistic side came out like the sun from a cloudy day—not that hard, I can get it done pretty quickly. Jodi will help me with it. Maybe she’ll go in with me and do half the talking. Board meetings, though…ugh.

  The turbo elevator, halfway down, he felt himself about to float.

  But he had been watching the news, and knew very well what was at stake. Meddlinn had squeezed themselves thin, just like any company with wildfire ambitions, right in between the rock and the hard place. They’d invested millions, actually billions, into the project. And he knew something important was going on below, on floors he couldn’t access, not exactly what, but he guessed it all, everything, depended on their project. Meddlinn did have a lot on the line for this one and no business wants to get trumped. It’s just the way the world works. Winners come in first, at all costs. Losers, work under the winners, or just end up on the street.

  His thoughts took a turn as gravity returned to normal, the elevator slowed from its virtual free fall. It always feels weird to leave him way up there, alone on Saturdays and Sundays. He would probably work for 48 hours straight, more if he could. But at least he mentioned a change—this is good, no, great news. Some hope. Like old times. Old times…

  Jodi. Time to go, get home.

  He had left her at his place this morning, hunched over the toilet while she waved him away. He wanted to be there for her in case she needed anything for the hangover, and besides they had to celebrate. They’d decided to move in together as of last night at the club. And they could use the weekend, well at least Sunday, to get started.

  Herald’s talk had really jolted his thoughts, a lot to think about, but for now a little bit of life. Some rest, relaxation, and cuddle time with the girl he— I’m going to ask her, he thought, and smiled. I love her.

  Ding. The elevator settled onto the first floor and the doors opened. As he stepped out he couldn’t believe it. His eyes widened in exhausted surprise.

  34. A Change of Heart

  Ham and cheese mega burrito with onions and green peppers; Herald ate lunch soon after the late breakfast, he’d had in the company of Jon. Must restore balance, eat more—get healthy. He washed it down with vegetable juice. With a light tap the hexagonal dish went flat and he slipped it into the recycle slot then headed to the lab. He decided to get outside for a while, thinking a little sunlight would do him good, so he carried his mobile up the stairs to his personal overlook. He’d made up his mind about certain changes. He would take fewer naps, and so decided to ease himself out of the Uberman sleep schedule he had been on for nearly a year. He would also ease off the Pro-Con—something he knew would be easier said than done. The plan was to come back down and slide into a more natural rhythm. There was still work to be done but the project was in the bag and he knew it would be completed in about a week, even with a laid-back schedule. The back-end and core programming was finished. It was only a matter of joining some remaining code blocks, appending a few algorithms, running tests, then handing over the finished product—which would still be a month ahead of schedule.

  High and tall, another cloudless day in LA. There was a gentle breeze, just enough to shove the smog eastward. His mobile was lightweight and powerful with three screens that could optionally fold out from behind the main screen; he didn’t have them out. To get more sun, he moved from his personal area onto the peak of the grassy hill and faced southwest. Grabbing a padded wooden chair from the pool area, he sat upright and alone, feeling like the only man on earth. Clear-minded, he worked until the sun fell.

  As it began to set, he let his mind tinker with the beauty. He associated with it with good thoughts and feelings, making a point to remember the moment. He felt at ease and closed his computer; a perfect time to further rewire his mind, something he was getting exceedingly better at doing. The distant clouds had beautiful orange and red hues with every color in between, and all was being chased away by the blue, then purple, which ultimately won the push, dunking the sun. A few stars appeared, Mars in the south, a full moon was expected later. He infixed the picturesque visions permanently into his mind—and thought of tomorrow, Sunday—and wondered if she might be looking up at the same stars.

  The outside lights flipped on around the pool and bar. It was 8 p.m. and he’d managed to get a good deal of work done. Yet occasionally throughout the day, unlike any for months, his thoughts had wandered—he paused for a moment, gazing outward, thinking of her. They had set a time and place, and even shook on it. They were to spend the whole day together. His thoughts hovered with a sliver of dejection; doubt that he would actually see her again. Will she actually be there? Herald wondered. I looked like a bloodless vampire who had lost a boxing match, walking
death. But he fought the scintilla of pessimism, this time winning.

  He sat in silence on the top of the world on that chair, his computer closed. The screens at the bar showed no movement, the cameras had his back: Herald, high up on the hill just sitting there, now facing dead south, his hair lightly blowing in a cool breeze. Just there, thinking. Eight turned to nine, nine turned to ten. The breeze soothed his sunburn. Then he stood and reached for the sky with both arms.

  What can I do? Nothing? Powerless? The vastness of it, on and on forever. Billions of people. Building, infrastructure, control, economy. It will not stop. It’ll just keep going, on and on, forever, unless… The beautiful world devoured by the plague that is humanity, each and every one of us. All of it—gone, because we just can’t help ourselves. We can’t stop. We couldn’t stop. No! But maybe. Maybe there’s a way. Save her. She’s out there, somewhere. I—I—I can. I can save her.

  The idea that maybe he could do something led to a plan, changing things up. She made an impact for sure. Just the thought of her enabled him to headlock the Demon that resided within his mind. Her very being was now imprinted onto his thinking, and a part of the plan. Perhaps he wasn’t to be so alone, and the world was worth fighting for. At the time he’d taken on the project he had different ideas, some filled with hate and some for many other very wrong reasons. The proposal of this undertaking, in which he had confidence he would succeed, was in a sense his way of finishing things off quick, and with a boom. Simply put, it was like: fuck it, fuck the world.

  But with his newfound sensitivity, and his I-can decision, more importance weighed on the secret project he’d let Jon in on earlier. At first it was intended to save only himself, just long enough so he could sit back and watch it all burn. Then—maybe a few friends, now—her, and maybe even—at least a part of—the world. It was too late to go back now, or stop any of this shit from being developed, so the plan was, to complete it. The device he had been working on must now have a part in saving more than just a few, it had to save many. He’d still get Colorado, but it wouldn’t be for the purpose of sitting atop a mountain with a front row seat to: Endless Extermination, now in theaters—live around the world; last one breathing gets the best selfies. The building, coding, and creating would not simply end in a few weeks after the project was done. It would be back to the mental drawing board.