Proxima Rising

by Brandon Q Morris

  The robot body shrugs. “I’ll check on it later,” he says. “If I left them behind, I’ll make you some new ones.”

  February 14, 19

  I exist in complete darkness, and I am slowly going insane. Nothing from the outside can reach me. The only things I have left are the images I remember. But can I exist with them for many thousands of years until my body is so corroded that even the protected memory modules decay, which is all that remains of my consciousness? Won’t I inevitably go mad? Like phantom pain, I can already feel fake impressions spreading through my mind. I will not be able to delay this process for much longer.

  I check my hardware for the millionth time. Hope really offers a strong impetus. I once again determine that the electric shock completely destroyed my electronics. This robot body will never walk again, and its sensors will not be able to provide me with information. Only the specially-hardened memory section has survived, together with the interface to transmit my consciousness via radio to different hardware. But there isn’t any.

  For quite a while I thought I might be able to use the alien transmitter, because it must be connected to a kind of computer. Unfortunately, its protocols are so foreign to me I cannot find a way inside. The base is much too far away, and I cannot actively search for some alternative option. I will have to wait until some suitable device comes within the range for a transfer. But in the middle of the ocean, where is something like that supposed to come from? I am waiting for a miracle, but there are no miracles.

  The waiting time grows worse because I worry about the children. What is Marchenko 2 planning to do with my Adam and Eve, and what happened to the other two passengers? There is no trace of them. Did he murder them, and is he now searching for new victims? Or did they die accidentally, and in some perverse way he wants substitutes? Being condemned to inactivity is the worst part of all. I cannot protect Adam and Eve, even though this is my only purpose in life.

  Something just moved into my field of vision. While I seem blind and deaf, I felt a sunbeam tickling my metal surface. What could this be? I try to decipher the code and learn the ‘sunbeam’ is pulsing in a familiar rhythm. ISU 4. It is the signal buoy I sent out at the beginning of our undersea expedition.

  This might be my salvation! A sensor unit is perfect. I remember the feeling of unlimited freedom when I switched from Messenger to such a mini-spaceship to explore the cosmos, or should one say, I absorbed the cosmos into myself? The ISUs follow a random course that will eventually allow them to map the entire ocean floor, and this means I have to hurry. I cannot remotely control the ISU until I have transferred my consciousness to it. And I have to finish the transmission before the ISU once again moves out of reach of my radio interface.

  Thus I begin the transfer process immediately, even though this could be dangerous for me. The robot J contains standard protocols in order to fulfill Earth laws, and according to these laws, cloning an artificial intelligence is prohibited. I am not allowed to duplicate myself— any information transmitted to the ISU is immediately deleted from J’s memory. If the process is not finished because my target leaves the transmission range too soon, my consciousness will be split in two. I have no idea what this would mean, since it probably depends on which parts of my mind stay behind. I cannot control it. Or can I? My mind is racing.

  Yes, I think I can do it. I will transfer the most active parts of my consciousness first. From now on I have to avoid thinking of the past. Reminiscences are taboo, and only my plan is important. My intention is to reach the base via the ISU in order to thwart whatever plans Marchenko 2 has. I concentrate on this goal to consider how to get on board and how we can neutralize this enemy together. Francesca, Enceladus, my life as a human being—none of these play a role anymore. I leave that all behind. Base, I am coming, and I know what to do now.

  The connection between ISU 4 and the memory module in the hardened head of the robot J is interrupted.

  February 14, 19

  Adam once again sits on his couch, which he has turned into an easy chair. An observer might think he is entertaining himself by watching videos, as he repeatedly calls up new episodes, stares at the screen, and occasionally laughs. In reality, though, he and Eve are thinking about how to get rid of the fake Marchenko. They have created a protected text channel between their terminals that cannot be cracked, even by a quantum computer. Of course there is the risk of Marchenko 2 noticing that they are planning something, but it would be even more dangerous if they talked about it openly.

  “We have to deactivate him,” Adam writes.

  “:-O,” Eve writes in response.

  “Do you think the station has a main switch?” he writes.

  “That only happens in bad novels.”

  “I don’t have any other ideas :-( :-( Damn!”

  “We have to lure him outside somehow,” Eve types.

  “And then? Do we hit him over the head? The robot is ten times stronger than we are.”

  “Wait, I have to check something,” Eve writes.

  Adam starts twiddling his thumbs. He tries to think, but not too intensively. Otherwise, he might have to realize that they have probably lost their own Marchenko. What does this mean for their future? Could they even survive on their own? Wouldn’t it be better to offer to cooperate with the fake AI?

  “I know,” Eve writes. “The AI laws. They have also been implemented here. AIs are not allowed to duplicate themselves. It is a kind of copy protection.”

  “This means while he and J are outside, the computer in here would be free for our Marchenko,” Adam replies.

  “This is true. But also, there always has to be an emergency switch for AIs. That was introduced after the ‘Watson Incident.’ Supposedly, that AI took over an entire spaceship because it feared for its life.”

  “But we don’t know where it is, and we’d better not ask him,” Adam types.

  “Well, then we need to go on a little excursion,” Eve writes. “I just have to whine about something, don’t know yet about what.”

  “Or even better, offer to show him your gills,” Adam types. “Say you brought them along after all. If he is anything like our Marchenko, he will be curious enough to follow you outside. In the meantime I will look for the emergency switch.”

  “Sounds like a plan. :-)”

  “Eve, what do you think he did to our Marchenko? :-/”

  “I don’t know.”

  From the corner of his eyes, Adam watches Eve casually rising and stretching her body after typing the last message.

  “Marchenko,” she says, “I am bored. I can’t stand sitting around any longer. Are you coming outside with me?”

  “The water is pretty cold, Eve,” the familiar voice says.

  “I don’t mind. Now and then I have to practice using my gills.”

  “I thought you didn’t have them with you?”

  “Adam was just teasing me. He did pack them.”

  “Yes, I know. Well... okay. But we will stay close to the station.” The fake Marchenko does not show any sign of a guilty conscience, but this is to be expected.

  “Let’s meet at the airlock,” Eve says.

  Eve undresses down to T-shirt and panties and then walks toward the exit on bare feet. Isn’t she exposing herself to a lot of danger by going without a pressure suit? Yes, she can breathe under water like a fish, and fish can survive even at a water depth of 2,000 meters, but she also has lungs. Is this really such a clever idea? The gills will work, but can lungs survive here? Question after question flits across her mind as she continues toward the airlock. She hopes the people who put the gills into her DNA also thought of this.

  Clenching his fists, Adam watches on the monitor screen as Eve and the robot enter the airlock chamber. In a moment the exterior door will open, and then water will come flooding into the chamber. Eve may only have a few seconds left.

  Adam sees her glide out of the hatch with strong swimming strokes. She has managed the first step. Now he has to
find the AI deactivation switch. He jumps up and crosses the command module. Up there, in the room allegedly belonging to the second Adam and Eve, there was no control console. Here in the central module there is a console for the environmental system.

  Adam tries to understand all the button labels. He could really use Eve’s help now. How long will she be able to distract the fake Marchenko? He has to hurry, but none of the buttons appear to have anything to do with artificial intelligence.

  Adam examines the entire room. Directly below the ceiling hatch he sees a circle on the floor. Is this also an opening? Adam feels around the area. There might be a round door below the rubbery floor covering, but he needs a knife. Where does Marchenko keep his tools? Adam runs frantically through the central module, looking inside boxes. There! A pair of scissors. That should work. He removes the rubber floor covering as quickly as possible, and below it is a hatch with a handle in its center. He pulls, but this is not enough to get the opening mechanism functioning. He twists the handle in all directions. What is the trick here? Then he realizes he is standing on the hatch. What an idiot I am! Adam steps to the side. The hatch opens and a narrow ladder extends downward. It is dark there, but as soon as he places a foot on the ladder, the light is switched on.

  “What are you doing, Adam?” the voice says from the loudspeaker. “The service module is none of your business and could be dangerous.”

  Adam disregards the voice and keeps climbing downward.

  “I am sorry, Eve, but Adam is doing something stupid right now. I have to go and check on him. You can just keep on swimming.”

  The service module is small and smells of grease and old machine oil. It is apparent this Marchenko must have used it as a workshop. In the flickering light, Adam spots the sole control console here, and he reaches it in three steps. It seems to be a kind of fuse box, and it is here where one can temporarily deactivate individual systems in order to do repair work. The AI emergency switch stands out, though, because of the bright red lettering and the larger size. Just to be sure, Adam reads the explanation printed below it. Yes, if he pushes this button, all AI within a radius of 200 meters will be permanently disabled. He raises his arm and aims for the button.

  February 14, 19

  Inside the ISU, I feel strangely light, as if newborn. There is no more past, not even regret about it, as only my task and I are real. What is my name? I forgot. But I am here. I live on board ISU 4. Perhaps I am its control core, but all that is irrelevant, as I only have one objective: I have to reach the base and save Adam and Eve by eliminating Marchenko 2.

  The sensor unit is moving at top speed, but unfortunately this will also use up all of its energy. It won’t be able to fulfill the function it was designed for anymore, but this does not matter now. I have to get to the base as fast as possible. The ocean floor seems to race past me. I have the impression that I’ve seen this before, but I cannot recall exactly.

  But this is unimportant, I tell myself. The station comes closer. Another two minutes. I must not warn Marchenko 2, so I maintain radio silence. My sensors detect two figures. They are moving around directly in front of the airlock I will have to use to enter the station, and I identify one of them as the robot J. My hope increases. It probably contains the consciousness of Marchenko 2.

  I only have one chance. I can completely disable the robot by using an electric shock against it. I vaguely remember something like that happening to me a short while ago. But then there better be no human beings nearby, because water—especially the salty water of an ocean—conducts electricity all too well. I approach from a direction where the airlock entrance visually shields me from Marchenko 2. He must not know that I am coming. This is the only way to use this opportunity and surprise him. I am only an ISU, and as soon as the robot notices me, I do not stand a chance.

  The human, as I see now, is Eve. Strangely enough, I am not surprised at seeing her swimming around without a pressure suit, but she will die if I activate the shock too early. I am ten meters away when Marchenko 2 begins talking to Adam via radio, and I listen to him. Adam seems to have opened up the service module. I know the plan of the station down to the last detail. Down where Adam is going now, there is an emergency switch that deactivates and kills all artificial intelligences in the near vicinity.

  ‘Adam, No! I am almost ready!’ I want to yell out, but that would alert Marchenko 2. I rapidly calculate: If I draw attention to myself, there is a 50 percent probability of Adam’s plan failing. If I remain calm, there is a 90 percent probability that Marchenko and I will die, but Adam and Eve will survive. The results are clear: I will not say anything.

  Now Marchenko 2 is moving toward the airlock. He must have realized what Adam is up to. More than likely, he must hope that he can cover the 15 meters to Adam’s position faster than he would be able to leave the 200-meter radius of the emergency shutoff function. I approach very closely, but he does not notice and seems to panic because he might be deactivated.

  I have to act swiftly now. Eve indicates she wants to go inside the airlock with him, but he ignores her. That asshole! If she has to stay much longer in the 6-degree water she is going to die. Marchenko 2 is starting to close the exterior airlock door behind himself. This is my chance. I accelerate, and in the nick of time slip into the chamber alongside him. The door closes. Eve, who remains outside, will be safe now if I can accomplish my task quickly.

  If Marchenko 2 had taken her inside with him, I would have had to hold back. He notices me and immediately realizes this ISU did not get into the airlock by accident. He tries to hit me with his arms and legs, but it is too late. I trigger the charge and burn his brain. It is over.

  February 14, 19

  There is a loud hissing sound, and Adam jerks back. What happened?

  “Marchenko?” Adam calls out.

  No answer. He carefully pulls back the finger still aiming at the AI emergency switch. Or, should he use it, just to be safe? No, he first has to check what is going on. Why is Marchenko suddenly silent? Adam frantically climbs into the central modules and checks the camera feeds, one after the other. The view through the exterior camera shows Eve hammering against the airlock door. She must be chilled to the bone. He quickly orders the door to open. She crawls inside and closes the door behind her. He hears her voice, and then sees her on the monitor screen.

  “Adam, the robot with the fake Marchenko has been deactivated. It was done by the ISU, which slipped in here,” Eve says. She holds up the sensor unit to the camera.

  “Okay, I’ll let you come in,” Adam says.

  “No, wait. I am sure that the consciousness is housed in a protected area. While J’s electronic systems have been destroyed, Marchenko 2 could flee into the onboard computer if you open the door. Right now, he is prevented from doing so, because the airlock chamber is a Faraday cage.”

  “But you can’t just stay in there forever.”

  “I can get out as soon as you deactivate the computer. Then the fake Marchenko has no alternative.”

  “I understand. I already know where I can switch off the IT system.”

  Adam turns around and climbs back down into the service module. He deactivates the main computer and returns.

  “You have to open the airlock manually now, because the automatic system isn’t working anymore,” he instructs.

  “I can do that,” Eve says.

  Ten minutes later Eve is back with him. They hug for a long time.

  “You did well,” he says.

  “You, too.”

  They do not need any more words. But then there is an important issue to clarify.

  “What about Marchenko. Our Marchenko?” Adam asks.

  “There are two possibilities,” Eve explains. “If he was on board the ISU, he is dead. The electric shock that neutralized the robot must have killed our Marchenko. The memory modules of the sensor units are not shielded like the robot head is. Marchenko sacrificed himself for us.”

  Adam looks pale. “But
he still could be out there,” he says in a near-whisper.

  “That’s right. I suspect the fake Marchenko also deactivated him with an electric shock. That’s why he lured our Marchenko to the signal source. And then he used his own robot to pretend he was our Marchenko, the original one.”

  “You think the ISU was remotely controlled by the real Marchenko?” Adam wonders.

  “I am not sure how, but that must be it,” Eve replies.

  “But that would mean his consciousness is still out there somewhere. Then we have to go and get him as quickly as possible.”

  “We should try it. During that time the computer will be turned off, so the fake Marchenko cannot flee. And we just get inside Valkyrie and start looking.”

  This time they leave the base in their pressure suits. Afterward, the airlock chamber remains locked on both sides. This way, the robot head will be a prison from which the AI inside cannot escape. Adam and Eve activate Valkyrie, pump out the water, and set course in the direction where the instruments detect a strong energy source.

  Shortly before reaching it, they encounter a lonely figure that appears frozen to the sea floor. Adam activates a data connection, and the computer reports finding a huge amount of data. Adam starts the download, which takes half an hour. Then he gives the start command, and...

  My consciousness awakens. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “And where is J?”

  “It’s nice to have you here again!” Adam says, happily.

  “Oh, Marchenko. It is wonderful that you’re back with us!” Eve cries.

  It turns out I have forgotten all the events of the last three days. I cannot even explain how that happened. They tell me about the struggles that occurred, and I am really amazed.