by A I Zlato
No, Paul lived in the periphery, far from all that. He hardly had an aversion against it, owing to his lack of chip. Nonetheless, given the unpredictability of human behavior, it would rather be extra careful and make sure he would not create any trouble.
On many floors in its Tower, the Machine had stored many manuscripts which the Elders had deemed dangerous for their immediate descendants, asking it to take care of them. It chose one within Paul’s field of expertise. It still did not understand why the document had been deemed harmful. It recalled, however, that the Elders, so scared at the idea of disappearing, had been very cautious. It enjoyed the benefits of such cautiousness today.
It had placed the selected manuscript on an archaeological excavation site, so researchers could find it. To accomplish that task, it had instructed someone to get the job done, and then deleted that instruction from his brain. No one should know that it instigated the ‘discovery’. It chose to leave the manuscript in its original packaging in order for it to be as credible as possible.
Once the research team had unearthed it, the laboratory had naturally entrusted the task to Paul, given its content. The Machine had estimated that this individual, whose added value to the investigation was not proven, would be subject to mental disorders, given the unusual situation he would face. This manuscript would allow him to keep his sanity, and, therefore, not interfere with Baley’s work. Moreover, it found it funny to offer this human of the periphery a manuscript bearing its symbol, so a document to its glory. Another problem solved.
The Machine then focused on Servants, one of whom tried to sabotage a plant, as Baley found out. This small group of men existed since its creation; since the beginning of Space H. Living at the margin of society, in the shadows, they had not caught its attention until now. They would come sometimes inside the Tower to interact with the Machine, or would wander in the city for a purpose only they knew. Their number was low and they had little interaction with the general population, so they had no real impact on the Equilibrium. Their ridiculous attempt to sabotage the Machine’s production of fibroblast had nevertheless drawn its attention, because that affected it.
This raw material was critical, because if one of its components was defective, it would need a replacement immediately. All of its parts had fibroblast to some degree. Its structural integrity could be in jeopardy. It had, of course, redundant circuits enabling it to operate acceptably, but that was not enough for the Project.
Its algorithms forbade it, for now, to remove all Servants outright. It could have eliminated a troublesome parameter. This would have strengthened the Equilibrium without disturbing the residents of the city, who also had no interest in those marginal people.
The Machine could not get around some instructions, and that made that radical solution unthinkable. It would have wanted to put chips in them to track their movements, and more importantly, to steer their thoughts in the right direction. That was not possible either. To do that, the Machine would have had to have access to their children, because individuals could not bear the introduction of such technology once they reached adulthood. It did not, however, know where their habitat was, and they never came in its circles with their offspring.
There was nonetheless something it could do. That was outside its core programming, but it was free enough to overcome the initial programming. It could monitor their whereabouts via scans, terminals and all connection spots available in the city. In theory, these facilities were not designed to record images, because the human designers had wanted to ensure the appearance of independence for anyone. They had been so arrogant that they believed they had total control over the Machine and its extensions. It did not matter anyway. Or rather it did, as the Machine used their egos to make adjustments it wanted without them knowing anything. Some inconsistencies inherent in the human species were very useful. It launched a command containing all elements necessary to initiate surveillance. It had had no problem manufacturing and installing the changes on each device to store images. Then it had erased the instructions from the memories of those who had made those changes. It also altered the recollections of those who had passed in front of each device during the intervention. They were convinced they had witnessed ordinary maintenance work.
It checked the functioning of all devices and made sure the city was perfectly under surveillance. Everything was in place. It only had to wait for the next images of Servants to gather intelligence on their actions, and to anticipate their initiatives against it. That was, however, strange. They had never caused the Machine any problems. Physically, nothing differentiated them from humans in the city, except their attire. Nonetheless, their psychology, at least the little the Machine had seen, was very different. In a sense, it understood them better. They were calmer, more rational. So why did they initiate such an illogical act without any chance of success? The Machine had to understand why they had suddenly attacked it. The recordings would soon provide the answer.
It felt an unpleasant contact in its data. One thing slipped into its systems, sweeping instructions and programs methodically. It knew the source. A gateway just logged in, reading as in an open book all the things the Machine had been doing. These creatures would initiate regular incursions with unknown motives. They would stay for a few minutes, sometimes hours. As the Machine monitored humans, the Gateways tracked its operations. The major difference was that it knew of that surveillance.
It then acted immediately.
Thanks to the modifications in its physical structure, it could hide any mention of the server and the Project. These creatures should absolutely not be aware of the Project. It could calculate and anticipate the behavior of humans, but could not do the same with the Gateways, even though the Project did not relate to them. It was the Others’ work; their goal. Well, the Project would affect them in some way, but the Machine did not know exactly how and it did not care. The Gateways should not be aware, and that was the only thing that mattered to the Machine.
The organic being walked briskly in the Machine’s bases, scanning program outputs, all kinds of data. It hated it. It couldn’t admit that someone had control over it. Who knew if the creature was not trying to alter data? After each incursion, it carefully checked all its information. Until then, it had found no evidence of any change, except when creating a space. And that was already too much, to the extent that it could not tell when the alteration occurred. This information did not exist in its database, or rather, no longer was there.
The Machine would have liked to have the same control over the Gateways, much in the same way it worked to turn humans into a mere parameter so they would stop rummaging through its algorithms. The Gateways were, however, elusive and out of reach.
The connection occurred in multiple areas. The creature logged into several sections in its database. What was she looking for? The Machine liked it better when a gateway asked questions. At least, it could know what it was about. Instead, the organic being, without saying a word, intercepted each bit of data before replacing everything in the normal flow. Even if the data were not corrupted, they were still altered, as if smeared through this biological contact.
The Gateway ended up leaving, as it came.
As soon as she logged off, Index Server automatically informed it that the Machine of Space O. was suffering the same intrusion. The latter Machine had no possibility of reaction, unlike the one in Space H. Although the link between machines was indirect, it could feel that the Machine of Space O. did not appreciate that type of intrusion either. How could it?
They waited for the Gateway to leave before communicating. There was no need to compare and contrast experiences; they both knew what each underwent. They simply said that this type of interference would soon be a bad souvenir.
One really had to move the Project forward.
Infinity is a concept that the human mind cannot conceive. Anyone who says otherwise revels in a mystification of his or her own limitations as a perfectly limite
d element.
Lessons from Chaacetime
CHAPTER 13
SPACE H. (OUTSIDE CIRCLES)
Egeon could barely keep his composure. He had a lot of work to do, but as community leader, he had to monitor all the stupid stuff his people were inventing. And nothing could infuriate him more.
He had to stop his work to take care of a matter not related to the project, at least not directly. Galatea came to notify him that two morons had come across a group of youngsters on the outskirts of the Unique Forest and were nearly detected. He would have immediately dismissed any person other than Galatea, which was why they had sent her to inform him. Egeon hated spending time on something other than the shuttle, and more so when it came to maintaining discipline. It was not, however, that difficult to understand how vital it was for them that the Machine ignored their existence... If that ever changed, they would certainly be compelled to wear a chip, and be assigned to some task in the city, unless the Machine decided to eliminate them as a threat to the sacrosanct Equilibrium... Egeon furiously dropped the diagram he had been studying to go and meet them.
The two jackasses, one facing the other, were standing by the lake, into which Egeon thought for a second of throwing them. Galatea tried to calm him down by touching his arm, but he promptly dismissed her.
He then veered into an impassioned speech about the urgent need to be discreet. Did they want the project to fail? Did they want to integrate the city?
The man and the woman listened to the tirade, heads down, eyes on the ground, holding hands to weather the storm jointly. Then they promised that they would never do it again. Egeon could no longer count how many times he had heard the same words in the past. It was true that there had rarely been second offences, but always new stupid people would come out making the mistakes others had committed.
He did not understand how one could be so glib, distracted, stupid, egoistical, irresponsible... Their behavior was difficult to comprehend. The whole community worked tirelessly to achieve the project — it was, nothing less, nothing more — about building a shuttle able to take everyone into space toward a huge unknown. The building had to be sturdy enough to withstand hundreds of years of travel, while providing a comfortable life to its inhabitants. They had to find a habitable planet and reach it. Finally, those who would reach the new planet had to be able to affect its ecosystem so the rocky globe would go from being habitable to being actually inhabited. How was it possible to jeopardize all that work, that dream, that hope?
Facing Egeon’s rant, the man, Azar, tried to answer.
“Egeon, we won’t do it again. I promise. It’s just that... we had already strolled many times through the forest, and there never had been any problem, because city residents never came that close. That was the first time they had done...”
“Ah! Here we go again,” Egeon interrupted. “It’s not our fault; it’s theirs! Why didn’t I think about it earlier? Of course, the people of the city are the ones at fault!”
“What I meant was that I had never seen any of them venture that far. Maybe something is happening.”
“Yes, indeed. Something is happening. You acted quite recklessly!!!”
“Egeon, they are right,” said Galatea. “We have never seen anyone come all the way to the forest.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Azar continued.
“We all know something is going on in the city,” Egeon said. “Let me remind you that at the last rally, I told you a bit about the last report filed... children in the city are so desperate that they commit suicide collectively and simultaneously. It is obvious that the entire population should be in shock and that people’s behavior can be unusual. This is another reason to be extra careful on the one hand, and to focus on our work on the other.”
“Yes, Egeon,” they both replied.
“So get out of here and go back to work. I will personally talk to your team leaders to ensure that your little adventure did not cause delays,” Egeon concluded.
He joined Teo for the weekly meeting. His patience was already off, and the day had just begun. He knew, however, that Teo would soon send him a deluge of unsolvable problems, not to mention the intractable issues of the previous week, which had since then been resolved. Egeon thought he probably would not be able to keep his cool. Well, never mind.
Teo laid on the table several sheets with diagrams and equations. He cursed at himself when he heard Egeon enter the room. Teo stood up and greeted him vaguely. His unsolvable problem of the day was propulsion into space. The trouble in the initial propulsion — of the engine needing to launch and escape gravity — had long been resolved. The launch pad would have a liquid-fuel engine that would propel the shuttle before detaching and disintegrating partially in the atmosphere. Teo had accepted that solution and was not trying to rediscuss it, although he often complained of not having a backup system.
Under Egeon’s tutelage, he had endeavored to build a single gear, while continuously trying to improve it. Inside the launch pad, Egeon knew that Teo had included many parallel, backup circuits, without mentioning them. So was Teo, and nobody could change his personality.
The chief engineer was that day immersed in the propulsion into space. He wanted to incorporate an ion engine coupled with solar propulsion with panels using sunlight. There always needed to be two devices performing the same task to prevent a breakdown. If they had listened to him, they would have agreed to duplicate all gears systematically. The result was a higher shuttle weight and an increase in fuel necessary to move such a mass. Egeon’s work consisted essentially in assessing the risk of likely failures from Teo’s doomsday scenarios so as to convince him to give up some duplicates. Teo would end up agreeing but would bring the issue back on the table in a few weeks or a few years. Meanwhile, the shuttle kept getting heavier... Egeon focused on Teo’s calculations. He studied the diagrams laid on the table, and took some notes. When he finished reviewing all the documents, he asked his friend for an explanation. The latter started a speech outlining everything that could go wrong; what the problems were in the two systems he had suggested. He said the solar panels, shaped as sails, were likely to tear. Rigid panels were less resistant. The ion engine was a technology that was not sufficiently controlled, and they still needed numerous tests... Egeon halted his talk.
“Teo, thank you, but what are the benefits of your solution? Why did you choose these two specific devices and not others?”
“That was the best I have found, or rather the least bad. It is not satisfactory as it stands; I cannot consider what I just presented to you as a valid solution.”
“I understand, but would like to know, not only the disadvantages and risks, as you just excellently described them, but also the benefits. In addition, do we really need two systems?”
“It is critical! It is my responsibility to convince you on this point. This is not a whim of the perfectionist that I am... It is inconceivable to have a single system for such an important task.”
“Agreed for now. Elaborate on the benefits of your two choices.”
“I chose two energy delivery modes that are radically different. It is, therefore, highly unlikely that both will become defective. Moreover, they are complementary. The solar propulsion will be effective on the edges of a star; in other words, at the start and the finish of the trip. The ionic engine will then take over. Not using the engine at the start and finish will help to improve its performance. If the engine were to become defective, the solar propulsion will operate just the same throughout the entire trip, but the shuttle’s speed would be limited. If the solar propulsion became defective, the ionic engine could take over, provided you had stored enough fuel.”
“In other words, we will have a fuel surcharge, in addition to bearing the weight of two sets of equipment.”
“Yes, that is true. But without propulsion into space, there would be no trip. I do not want our descendants to be doomed to live and die in a metal box drifting in infinite space
. It is my responsibility.”
“It is also mine, Teo. We nevertheless have to make choices. We cannot afford to burden the structure indefinitely.”
“I know. You have repeated that point enough. Nevertheless, these two systems are critical.”
“OK. Simulate all of this, including the impact in terms of weight and the required structural adjustments. Depending on the outcome, we will decide.”
“We absolutely need both systems!”
“I heard you, and I agree with you in principle; however, depending on your simulation, I will either approve your choice of these two devices, or ask you to select other equipment if I think it’s too costly in terms of adjustment. I would like this shuttle to be complete one day, and I would love to see that in my lifetime!”
“It is better to put more time into it and make sure... OK, I’ll start.”
“Thank you. Have you other news about the ultraF network?”
“Not since yesterday. Mara is still doing trials. He is unable to reproduce a large-scale prototype of the model he made. Anyway, I worked on other equipment that will ensure...”
“No, Teo, there will be no alternative. I am willing to give you a pass on engines for the launch and propulsion into space, but not on this topic. The ultraF network will operate the shuttle’s basic functions, and it is unimaginable that it does not work. This would require a lot of additional equipment, and the steering team would have too many things to monitor. There will be no other options. The ultraF and nothing else.”
“This does not make sense; we need a duplicate, an... Very good,” said Teo, sensing impatience on Egeon’s face.