by G.R. Carter
Chapter Two
Silicon Valley
Headquarters of International Business Networks
Four Years before the Great Reset
“That’s it! I’ve got it! Now I know how it’s happening and what to do about it!”
Rowan Shyam was considered around the Spaceship to be an eccentric – even amongst the largest group of eccentrics ever assembled. All were employed by IBN and housed in the corporate headquarters known as The Spaceship.
The Spaceship was built on a ridge overlooking Silicon Valley, and the view both inside and out was spectacular. All-white metal interior, with occasional bright splashes of color that made even the most cynical design snob gape in awe. High arches, multiple stories-tall great rooms greeted visitors as they walked through floating glass doors that slid up silently as they approached. Escalators criss-crossed the outer walls of the great rooms. There was even an outdoor escalator, for those wanting to enjoy glorious California sunshine on the way up to conference rooms and offices on the 14th floor.
The leadership of IBN encouraged meditation and reflection and provided private rooms that faced out to the spectacular views. That’s where Rowan, the Lead Vision Officer of the company formerly known as International Business Machines, spent many afternoons in a trancelike state. He believed that recurring visions were leading him somewhere. Not just somewhere, but to a solution that they could use to defeat the infernal Solar Storms wreaking havoc with his beloved internet connections and electronic devices.
That was his mission, and his dancing and shouting down the hall made clear to everyone that he had something figured out. Rowan sprinted down to the office pods holding the men and women programming and coding his vision into a reality. Grabbing a wipe-off marker, he began furiously scribbling a flow chart on the closest wall to illustrate his idea.
“It’s simple, really. Why didn’t any of you think of this before? We can use the NASA data to notify us when the Solar Storms are heading our way. Then we just tell the networks to shut down momentarily just before the storms hit, and then everything will start back up immediately after the storm passes. That way, they’ll be protected from the surge arcs and won’t have to be repaired,” Rowan said, nearly shouting with glee.
“We don’t have that kind of computing power, and there’s no way we can have enough people on hand to send out all of the signals manually,” one of the resident braniacs responded.
“We have GRAPEVINE, and she will be plenty powerful enough,” Rowan spit back.
Groans and shouts from the room struck a chord with Rowan.
Rowan held both hands up, commanding the crowd to quiet. “You simpletons don’t understand, now is the time to rollout the Vine. She’s the first true Artificial Intelligence in the history of mankind. We’ve kept her under wraps for years, worried about the right time to introduce her to the Network. She’s been learning everything about the world…every text, every email, every web search, even every uploaded document! She has understanding of it all! Now has to be the time. If we continue to wait, people are eventually going to lose faith in Continuity.”
Rowan stopped the groaning with that statement. Continuity was the core belief of the Church of Tomorrow founded by Rowan and a few other tech gurus from the Valley. Cherry-picking parts of Christianity, Zen Buddhism, and Hindu faiths allowed the Church of Tomorrow to appeal to a wide range of people. Rowan designed levels and paths called Progressions throughout Continuity to encourage self–enlightenment and self–improvement. Passing through each Progression, the faith became deeper ingrained in a person’s psyche. Business encouraged the growth of Continuity because the Progressions improved management and HR functions. Even mega churches, wanting to appear open minded and loving, hosted Fruit of the Valley meetings to find common ground with the faith.
Continuity was the ultimate final Progression of the Path. Belief in Continuity meant a person’s life would be on the Network long after their physical body died. Adherents to the faith built their Profile through actions. Self–improvement added to the Profile. The better the Profile, the more activity one would have on the network after death. Someday, a Profile would be downloadable to a new physical body. That way, you could live forever.
So as the Solar Storms affected Network accessibility, the primary focus of some of the greatest minds of the Valley focused on the safety of their eternal Profile. Billions and even trillions of dollars were diverted into creating a truly secure Network host so elite Profiles lived forever with no fear of power or data failure. GRAPEVINE was conceived as an artificial intelligence perfected to be the caretaker of the Network. She would be the guardian, tasked with shepherding Profiles forever. The Spaceship even had a small nuclear reactor built just offsite to supply steady power to The Vine for thousands of years. Long before the reactor ran short of fuel, The Vine and her protected Profiles could easily figure out a way to resupply the energy needed to keep going.
The ultimate goal of GRAPEVINE was to ensure Continuity, and now Rowan would ensure she proved herself to the world.
