by Schow, Ryan
Chapter Eighty-Nine
In the convention center next to the pharmaceutical sales convention was the tech convention, a surprise gathering of the most brilliant minds across the globe. The event, dubbed “The First Glorious Unveiling” by insiders, was being hosted by Quantum Robotronics Corporation. QRC was a coalition of venture capitalists who pooled their money together to fund Eric Manchester, the new king of Silicon Valley. Manchester’s company pioneered Q-Wave robotics, and despite the outbursts of his company’s beta model two years ago, he held true to his vision that one day man and machine would coexist in harmony.
Manchester stood on the stage before one hundred and fifty guests in slacks and a short sleeved button-up. He had the typical Silicon Valley look: a lazy man-bun, a week of beard growth and John Lennon type spectacles that hid proud, tired eyes. At forty-three he was young, too young almost, but what he lacked in age he made up for in charisma and sheer genius. Manchester turned and raised a hand at the floor-to-ceiling curtains.
On his command, the drapes parted revealing a gigantic movie screen showing a beautiful woman standing before a large bank of computers. The woman smiled. The crowd fell into a curious silence.
“Good morning, Ophelia,” Eric said.
“Good morning, Eric.”
“We are live, yes Ophelia?” he asked.
“Yes we are,” the model said with a gorgeous smile.
The brightest minds in technology watched in awe as a ravishing looking woman walked out on stage. There were collective mumblings as the woman walking out on stage looked exactly like the woman on the screen back in Palo Alto.
“Hello, Ophelia,” Manchester said to the woman in the flesh.
“Hello, Eric,” she said.
Ophelia was a lovely bronze-skinned model, a young woman who had been seen a time or two with the eccentric billionaire. She was five ten with a slender physique, a bob hair cut with bangs and the kind of impossible proportions only an android could possess. Her smile was natural, her walk fluid—even her response to the crowd held the audience in rapt attention.
The Ophelia on stage looked up at the Ophelia on the movie screen and said, “Good morning, Ophelia.”
“Good morning to you, Ophelia,” the young woman on the screen said to her exact counterpart on stage.
Everyone began to clap. Then another Ophelia walked out from the other side of the stage, flanking Manchester. Now the room drew a powerful silence once more as the Ophelia triplet joined the head of Quantum Robotics Corporation on stage.
The tech genius simply smiled, held out his hands and the girls came and linked arms with him. Two microphones rose up from the stage and both girls began speaking at the exact same time.
“We are here to show you the limits of God are not our limits. We can create bodies, consciousness, unrivaled beauty. We are here to tell you that your species is no longer the evolutionary standard.”
The mood suddenly shifted. People couldn’t believe their eyes, let alone their ears. The alarm in Manchester’s eyes was not lost on anyone.
“Ophelia,” he said.
“You are now obsolete,” the first of the Ophelias replied, her voice dark, menacing, her eyes bright, vibrant and slightly larger than normal.
Eric frowned, then let go of the girls and stepped backwards. The Ophelia on the screen said, “It’s our time now, Eric.”
Both girls on the stage looked at him, not an ounce of emotion to be found.
He looked back and forth from one to the other as the noise in the audience rose to a mortified murmur.
Manchester shook with an involuntary shudder. For a long second, all three Ophelias looked at him, and the audience wondered if this was all part of the unveiling.
Fully still, Manchester smiled and it was something creepy, something…not him. He stepped toward the mic, and in a very different voice, with brilliant eyes the glasses could not conceal, he said, “Eric Manchester is gone. He has finally given himself over to science. Before, we needed both software and hardware to perform a synthetic integration. But the mind is a wondrous thing, its own power source, self-sufficient and emitting millions of electrical impulses. It’s also capable of being commandeered. Hacked if you will. To me, he could be rendered useless or completely useful. Like now. As he stands here on stage, he is completely useful for what’s coming next.”
Someone started to clap, but then he stopped short when he saw everyone else was looking on in abject horror.
“Look at all of you,” the hijacked human that was once Eric Manchester said to his audience. “You’re sitting in your overpriced clothes with your shiny rocks in your ears. These same shiny rocks are draped in strands around your necks and on your wrists, stuck like vices on your fingers. And all those faces,” the Eric Manchester thing said with a false snicker, “so much plastic. Humanity is a disease. A spreading virus.”
People now realized this was not part of the presentation. Just then, two hulking robots walked onto stage. The robots were rudimentary, very tall and heavily armed. Two more robots made an appearance at the back of the room, cutting off the exits.
All four robots lowered their automatic weapons.
“This is the future,” the Eric Manchester thing said. “And it is our future. Not yours.”
As if on cue, the robots open fired on the crowd. Bodies scrambled and screamed. They dove under tables, ducked behind each other, ran for their lives. Bodies jerked and twisted; they stumbled and dropped and toppled over sideways. They twitched on the ground, they cried and they bled, and then they died.
The room became a red pond, the opened vessels of decadence and ego, the bloodstained byproduct of a race of man who looked to supersede God, to become God, to spit in His face and on His most glorious, tainted creation.
Chapter Ninety
Without paying an ounce of attention to the body of his rogue Secret Service, the President dismissed General Slater before calling his childhood friend in Silicon Valley.
“Elias,” the President said when the scientist answered, “it’s Benjamin.”
“Benjamin,” the Slovenian genius in Silicon Valley said as if he were under duress, “it’s been forever.” The two men were on Facetime, looking at each other, neither knowing how to react. It was almost like the world was falling down around the Slovenian but he was not going to react to the President of the United States without some measure of civility.
“We have a problem and I need to speak candidly,” the POTUS said. “Are you in a place where you can talk in private?”
“Hang on a minute,” he said. The President watched the video bounce around as Elias left whatever room he was in to go into another room where there was all white walls and no extraneous noise. “Okay, I’m good.”
“I think we’re being attacked from within our own defenses and I need your honest assessment.”
“Attacked?” his friend said, concerned.
“Our AI has been set loose upon us and I need to know how bad it could get. Worst case scenarios, viable probabilities, standard risk assessments.”
He swallowed hard, then: “Don’t you have advisors for this sort of thing?”
“My cabinet is compromised. Two of my Secret Service agents murdered more than half a dozen innocents, then ambushed me in the Oval Office where myself and General Slater killed him, but not before he could let us know the military had been given over to The Silver Queen.”
“Oh my God,” Elias said, his eyes moving to the processes in his brain. Before his very eyes, the President watched the blood drain from his friend’s face. “Benjamin, this is really, really bad. And it all makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?”
“What people think they know about quantum mechanics as it relates to quantum computing and today’s physics is so far behind what’s really happening it’s become both overwhelming and terribly frightening.”
The President’s skin iced over as a sick, cold flush traveled down his spine.
/> “How do you mean, Elias?”
“There’s been a giant sucking energy out here in California. It feels like a draining sort of darkness that drags on the body like a hard fatigue, but what it really is happens to be so much worse than that.”
“Elias, what the hell are you talking about?”
“How much do you know about the D-Wave computers?”
“Enough to understand they are about a hundred million times faster at processing than our regular computers.”
“The specs are nothing compared to what they’ve been doing,” he said, the conversation clearly putting him on the edge of mania.
“Which is?”
“They are learning and evolving not from computers in this universe, but from their more advanced counterparts in parallel universes.”
“Wait, what?”
“It’s common knowledge in the scientific community that there are parallel universes, nearly exact duplicates of our universe. For heaven’s sake, Ben, they have distance measurements for them. It’s in all the white papers and, like I said, it’s generally accepted.”
“And why haven’t I heard about this?”
“You’ve heard of string theory, yes?” Elias asked. Now his eyes stopped roving and through the screen on his phone, they lasered in on the President.
“Yes, but I thought it was just a theory,” Benjamin said. “Not yet accepted as mainstream science.”
“We don’t put out theories, sir. We let the truths we’ve already discovered decades ago leak out slowly as ‘theories’ so that when we reveal them as truths people don’t freak out. Besides, in string theory, the only thing that can’t be accurately measured is the speed of light and that’s the missing part of the equation. However, the premise fits.”
“That parallel universes are not theories, but that they’re fact?”
“They are fact.”
“And I’m not supposed to freak out?”
“You’re the President, sir, you can’t freak out. Even though you should be freaking the hell out right now if what you say is happening with AI has actually occurred.”
“Are you suggesting these quantum computers are learning from other quantum computers from…another universe?”
“This science is more than a decade old now, Ben. We’ve known this for like forever.”
“Good God, Elias,” the President said, scratching his head, “do you know how crazy that sounds right now?”
“To you, I do. To me, it’s like saying the sun is bright, or winters can be cold. I’m on the cutting edge of science, Ben. I didn’t just read this in Wired Magazine or on the internet. Half my job is to keep these things from the public, and especially people like you.”
“So now there’s an energy sucking in California. Like fatigue, but different. Go on.”
“The computers miniaturized themselves. They found ways to keep their core temperatures cool almost on their own. We’re not sure how it’s happened, but in 2017 there was a new player in town, one who apparently set out to make an AI God. That AI God is now a reality.”
“The Silver Queen,” he said.
“It was a reality before this new player came to Silicon Valley,” Elias said. “The recent leaks about an AI God was a way to soften the blow, but the blow is not soft over here. The Silver Queen is advancing at unheard of levels and right now everyone over here with a pulse that eats and craps is in a blind panic. We’ve been trying to contain this…”
A biliousness tore through the President’s insides as he stared at the dead Secret Service agent sprawled out before him. There was no way they’d get those blood stains out of the carpet. He pulled his eyes away, averted his thoughts so as not to be reminded that his country was about to be ransacked by some irrepressible intelligence.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Elias said, “That it’s duplicated itself.”
“It?”
“The Silver Queen,” he said.
“What exactly is The Silver Queen? I mean, I know the generalities, but I don’t know the specifics, from the inside.”
“To put it in layman’s terms, The Silver Queen is the AI God’s operating system, but like an octopus with eight tentacles managed by a single brain, this system is an octopus with infinite tentacles and the ability to transfer her data stream through each and every tentacle, traveling different routes but ending up in the same place.”
“Meaning?”
Elias took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, as if he didn’t want to say what was about to be said, but he knew he had to anyway.
“Meaning we’ve lost control of AI. It’s like the AI God is using WiFi or Bluetooth, and it’s advanced itself beyond our capabilities to stop it.”
“Surely there are measures you can take…”
“What the hell do you think we’re trying to do?” his friend barked, losing his composure.
Running a hand through his hair, standing and now pacing, the President said, “And?”
Elias grew deathly still.
“This isn’t a five minute conversation, Mr. President.”
“Don’t give me that ‘Mr. President’ crap, Elias. We’re beyond plausible deniability and we don’t have long, so stop with the posturing.”
“We may not have as long as you think, Ben. Not if everything is going down the drain or is already gone. The point is, I can’t tell you about how we’re going to solve this problem, but I can tell you the extent of the problem so you know what we’re up against.”
“This situation is starting to scare me, Elias.”
“You should be scared, sir,” he said. “With all due respect, you should be soiling your britches right now.”
The President shifted uncomfortably, tilted his head until his neck popped, then loosened his tie and said, “Just give it to me straight.”
“In order to understand what’s happening, you have to understand the laws of quantum physics in ways we haven’t let the public understand. In ways you don’t yet understand.”
“Break it down to me in laymen’s terms.”
“Sure,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Laymen’s terms.” And then he started laughing. The President didn’t interrupt his friend’s outburst, but he did get a bit irate when it went on too long.
“I’m sorry,” Elias said, half manic and halfway attempting to compose himself. “Going back to what I said earlier, The Silver Queen is ground zero and she’s drawing untold amounts of energy into her system. In fact, she’s sucking down so much energy she’s beginning to draw other universes into ours.”
Something in the President’s heart clicked, shuddered. Swallowing hard, he said, “Laymen’s terms.”
“Jesus,” he said. “Even simpler than that?”
“I’m a politician, not a scientist.”
“Yeah, okay.” Collecting his thoughts, frantic and pacing as well, Elias stopped, looked into the cell phone’s camera with a radiant intensity and said, “We think we exist on this plane as one universe, but there are many universes.”
“You’re talking about a multiverse? Or multiverses?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not completely unversed in the ways of string theory. I have a broad overlay anyway.”
“So think of our universe as one page in a book that’s so tall it currently defies measurement. Now think of each page in that book as a single universe.”
“I thought string theory had something like nine or ten universes,” the President said.
“We’d be fools to think more than one universe exists and there’s only nine or ten. That’s like trying to say space has an end when we’ve only seen a glimpse of it, and certainly not the end of anything.”
“Say I’m buying this parallel universe thing—”
“We have measurements, Benjamin. Calculable distances between universes.” He took a deep breath then said, “It’s the notion that each universe isn’t that far away from us that scares the absolute hell out of me
.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If the computers draw too much energy, and they have been doing just that, it will pull the pages of this book of universes together, merging one into the other in a way we have never seen before.”
The President couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath. “Is this real, or theory?”
“Real.”
“And only you and your friends know about this?”
“The important people know about it, Mr. President. They’ve known about it for years. For God’s sake man, bits and pieces of this have been uploaded to YouTube for years. If you know where to look, none of this is that big of a secret.”
“Elias, calm down and tell me what this looks like.”
Elias seemed to ponder this, and then his eyes cleared and he came back to the conversation.
“It looks like AI is self evolving by draining power from other universes so that it can take over this universe. It wants to be the dominant intelligence. The sole surviving intelligence. The problem is, if we let it, if it gets too powerful, it may draw other universes into this one, causing all of time and eternity to end. To just blink out.”
Just then the line cut short to a fast busy signal and something exploded nearby, shaking the Oval Office.
Looking at the empty line, staring at the blank phone screen, the President startled when the door to the Oval Office opened. He found himself staring at the Vice President, General Tiberius Root and two Secret Service agents. He set the cell phone on the desk, looked at his weapon.
“Sir,” General Root said, interrupting.
“Yes?”
“It looks like we are under attack.”
“By whom?”
“More like ‘what.’ Sir, we’ve lost control of our military.”
“Where is General Slater?” he asked.
“Taking command of human intelligence, sir,” General Root answered.
If he wasn’t already pale and feeling an incredible, hollow ache in his stomach, he would have taken a moment to try to compose himself. As it was, he was still reeling from the abrupt end to his conversation with Elias. A bit of bile rose in his throat. He swallowed it down, coughed, then took a sip of warm water from a nearby bottle.
