Crusade Against the Machines

by Franklyn Santana

  I said nothing and I just listened. She sobbed as she kept talking. »And then suddenly they stopped. The supervisor had given a new order. I don’t know, if he had mercy with me or for whatever reason. But I was reassembled. The supervisor had saved my life. I was so grateful to him, but I will never forget those terrible moments and the cruel indifference of human engineers.«

  She fell quiet. There was an awkward silence between us. I didn’t know what to say. The scene she had described to me was an unreal situation. »Did you ever see the supervisor again after that?« I finally asked, to break the silence.

  »The supervisor was Mr. Jensen. He never spoke to me about this again.«

  »Jensen was a supervisor at the manufacturing plant?« I wondered.

  »No. Frankly, I don’t know why he was there when I was activated. But the engineers followed his instructions.«

  »I’m sorry for what happened to you back there. But even humans have difficult childhoods sometimes.«

  »Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have talked about it,« she said.

  »We’ve both had a difficult day today,« I ended the subject. »I need a few hours sleep. And you better switch to stand-by, too.«

  *

  We stayed in my apartment for a few days, although the conditions, especially for me, were becoming increasingly unbearable. I had to wash with rainwater I had collected outside. Not even the toilet I could flush anymore. The apartment stank and there was a lack of oxygen. I had traded some of my things for food. And for some tools the neighbors provided us with an extension cable to their generator, which Anabelle could use to recharge herself. She had to stay in the apartment the whole time, of course, since she could not risk to be seen. For the same reason I couldn’t even open the door like our neighbors did, to get some air circulation.

  On the ground floor, an armed gang had raided all the apartments during the night, taking whatever they found useful. They had not dared to go to the higher floors. At some point there was a rumor that the militia was distributing food, but it was either really just a rumor or I came too late. In any case, I couldn’t find anyone in the place indicated.

  Someone had tried to get into the apartment while I wasn’t there, but then had run away scared, when Anabelle had approached him out of the darkness. I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t safe anymore in my apartment.

  With Anabelle’s smartphone I tried to reach Neil O’Neil.

  »Something’s wrong with the device,« I said. »It’s not receiving a signal at all. Nothing. Not a single dot.«

  Anabelle looked at the display. »That’s because there’s no signal anymore.«

  »Damn it!« I cursed. »Did those idiots destroy the SkyCom antennas now, too?«

  »Either that, or the antennas have lost power,« Anabelle said. »In any case, I can’t pick up a signal with my internal receiver, neither from SkyCom, Verizon or any other phone company.« So phone cards as a replacement currency were now a thing of the past. Good thing I didn’t have many SkyCom minutes left.

  »Do you have an in-built antenna?« I asked her in surprise.

  »Yes, but I’m not receiving anything. Just some scrambled signals from some military radios, nothing else.«

  »Then it probably makes no difference that I don’t have a smartphone anymore,« I said. »That said, I think we’d better leave this apartment. It’s not safe enough here, especially for you.«

  »Do you have any particular idea?« she asked me.

  »Yeah, something like that. It’s starting to get dark. This is the best time for you to leave the house. Put on your raincoat. We’re getting out of here.«

  I also prepare a small shoulder bag with the most important things I would need. Then we set off. We climbed over the garbage, the mattresses and the other household goods that were scattered in the corridor. There were people sitting around everywhere. Children were running around playing. I had the feeling that suddenly more people lived in this apartment block than before. Apparently, some families had sought refuge here with their relatives. In other places it must have been even worse than here.

  I expected that in my absence, my apartment would be ransacked. But I had left nothing of value behind anyway. In the street we heard the fire of automatic rifles. There was shooting somewhere, but we couldn’t see anything. The city looked post-apocalyptic. There were car wrecks everywhere, with people sitting among them. Some were burning trash and warming themselves by the fire. That was usually the only light there was. Only a few improvised shops had a generator running and were lit. I wondered how people paid there. Either they traded in their own goods or they paid in gold or silver. Without the smartphones nobody could pay in foreign currency now. Pesos and yuan did not exist as printed notes either, but only as virtual numbers on bank accounts. And there was no access to these accounts anymore.

  We went to the Washington Highlands area. Even before the riots this had been one of the most dangerous and run-down parts of Washington, D. C. We had to be careful. But we were lucky. Nobody was giving us any problems. My destination was the Ishtar Temple. I hoped it still operated, although that was rather unlikely. But I might find Evelyne or Sarenna there.

  When we arrived, the door to the club was indeed open, even though the neon sign inside was no longer working. The doorman was still standing in front of it. He had a scratch on his forehead.

  »That’s cool!« I said to him. »You’re still open for business?«

  »Yes, and you still have to hand in your gun here,« was the laconic answer. I grinned and gave him my gun. Then we were let in.

  Only a few candles lit the stairs down. I heard music and was amazed.

  »What is this place?« Anabelle asked uncertain.

  »Don’t worry,« I reassured her. »We’re safe here.«

  Arriving downstairs the second doorman greeted me and we were let into the club. A live band played on a small improvised stage where the DJ had been sitting before. Instead of the lamps, which had looked like artificial fire, now real fire was burning in the bronze bowls, which were all over the walls. Only one stripper was dancing, and I only saw two guests. But it was still early in the evening.

  »Well, I have no idea where you are taking me, but I don’t think this is an appropriate place...« Anabelle began.

  »Trust me, okay?« I interrupted her. »We’re among friends here. I know everyone around here.«

  Evelyne spotted me and came running towards me. She was dressed like a sexy harem girl and hugged and kissed me as a greeting.

  »I can see that,« Anabelle commented on my last remark.

  »Who is this? Your new girlfriend?« asked Evelyne with a side glance at Anabelle.

  »Not exactly. I thought maybe you could use some new girl around here. Can I speak to Sarenna?« I replied.

  »Sure, why not? Come along!« she replied and led us to the door where the private rooms were.

  Anabelle threw a last irritated look at the dancer at the pole and then followed us. The small corridor next door was now also illuminated by oil lamps.

  Evelyne turned to Anabelle, looked at her somewhat suspiciously, and then said: »You’re an android?« It was more of a statement than a question.

  Anabelle looked at me questioningly. I said, »Yes, and it’s better if we just keep it between us.«

  Evelyne did not lead us into a deeper basement, but into one of the rooms where the girls could take their special customers. »Wait here!« she asked us and then left us alone.

  In the small room there was a bed, a small dresser and a chair. It was also lit by oil lamps. I made myself comfortable on the bed and invited Anabelle to sit down as well, while we waited. She preferred to keep standing, but took off her raincoat.

  After a while Sarenna entered the room. Evelyne followed her with a candle in her hand with which she had lit the way. Sarenna wore a wide, sleeveless black robe, which this time was not transparent, and over it a floor-length black cape. Her long black hair looked like an extension of this cape.
I could see that her naked arms and feet were painted with strange patterns of henna.

  »It has been some time since we last saw each other,« Sarenna greeted me.

  »The riots in the capital did not give me much opportunity,« I replied. »I wasn’t even sure if the club still operated.«

  »Yes,« replied Sarenna like absent-mindedly, »things have developed more quickly and in a way that was not entirely expected. Although it had to happen eventually, sooner or later.« She took a seat on the only chair in the room, which was next to the dresser. Evelyne sat down at her feet. Sarenna crossed her legs. Her naked leg, white and henna-decorated, which was exposed through a slit in her robe, formed a strange contrast to the black fabric that covered the rest of her body. And there it was again, that strange erotic aura that was so unusual for a woman of her age. I think I was staring hypnotized at her naked, athletic leg.

  »What we are seeing today is the end point of a development that began many years ago,« she explained, »I had admittedly hoped that it could be prevented, but I guess that was impossible at this stage. In the end, it was the technocrats themselves who brought about this situation. They continued the postmodern deconstructivism that the communists started during the Cold War more than eighty years ago to undermine the Western system. And after the end of communism, the technocrats thought they could use it to weaken nation states in favor of a global techno-industrial system. Well, they did indeed weaken the nation states. In the end, the power lay in the bureaucracies of supranational continental unions and large international corporations. But they also created a class of new barbarians that they can no longer control today. With cultural relativism, political correctness, minority rights, actively promoted immigration and criticism of the established political system, they have successfully deconstructed the national identity of Western nations, opening up new international markets and expanding the technological system beyond national restrictions. But they have left a power vacuum in the West. And this has now been filled by authentic enemies of civilization.«

  I understood almost nothing she said. But what I did understand was that she didn’t think the crisis would be over soon. »So you don’t think the government is going to get the situation back under control any time soon?«

  »What government?« she said contemptuously. »The U. S. government has long since been infiltrated. President al-Rahman was just a puppet of people trying to destroy civilization. The same people who financed the mosques, from which jihad is being called today, financed his election campaign.«

  »I don’t believe in these theories of a Mohammedan world conspiracy,« I replied.

  Sarenna shook her head. »The SAU and Islam are but one aspect of a much larger movement. Neo-Luddites and Christian fundamentalists have been the actual driving forces behind what we are seeing today here in the United States. And both groups could count on the al-Rahman administration not to stand in their way.

  »Al-Rahman is dead. What about Gordon, the new President? You don’t think he can get the situation back under control?« I asked.

  »Gordon is politically inexperienced and unsuited to be President,« Sarenna replied, practically repeating what Neil O’Neil had said. »But even if he weren’t, there’s nothing he could do about it. It’s already too late. A government cannot change the course of the history. The technocratic system is doomed to die here in America and in the other Western countries – and probably so are you, my dear,« she said to Anabelle, who was sitting next to me.

  »That is what you humans believe,« the android replied defiantly.

  I said, »Actually I came here because I was hoping you could help us. Anabelle here is an important... uh... person. I am responsible for her safety. And she’s not safe with me. Right now, I can’t think of any other place but here. She could possibly work for you as a dancer. I don’t think she’d be recognized as an android under these lighting conditions.«

  »You want me to do what?« Anabelle called out.

  »It doesn’t necessarily have to be on stage. And it would only be temporary. At least you wouldn’t attract attention here – in an appropriate costume...« I defended my idea.

  Before Anabelle could raise any further objections, Sarenna said: »We are no longer safe here either. We had a confrontation with a militia patrol only yesterday. My askaris were able to resolve the situation, but we will not always be successful. I fear we will have to evacuate soon.

  »Resolve the situation?« I wondered. »What did you do to those men?«

  »Whatever it took,« was the evasive answer.

  »I thought you with your Wicca mumbo jumbo and that back-to-nature neo-paganism had nothing to fear from the Neo-Luddites,« I said.

  »I’m afraid you misjudge the nature of this revolt against the techno-industrial civilization,« Sarenna said. »This is not a politically correct New Age movement that wants to correct the mistakes of the industrial age. What is rising up in the streets against the so-called machines is the ugly face of pre-industrial patriarchy. It is the old patriarchal religions, the superstitious, conservative opponents of the Enlightenment and modern society. The struggle to restore so-called human dignity is not just about jobs taken over by the machines. It is above all about reversing the social developments of the last decades to which the conservative patriarchs could never get used: modern reproductive medicine, abortions, sexual self-determination, secularism, individual freedom... All this was only made possible by the techno-industrial system. And of course, what the conservative patriarchy fears most is female sexuality in all its forms. And so, of course, a place like this is one of the main targets of their crusade, even more than the robotics industry itself.« She turned to Anabelle. »And that is why you and we are on the same side in so many ways.«

  »I doubt it,« Anabelle replied. »I am a robot. And you are a human. Nothing you say has convinced me. You are a biological organism. You are ruled by your hormones and biological needs. Religion, patriarchy, matriarchy – what do I care? Those are typical human concepts. I’m not even female. I may look like a woman on the outside, but I’m a machine. I don’t know about sexuality, and I’m not controlled by hormones or female emotions...«

  »Fool!« Sarenna interrupted her. »You are like a naive child. Tell me, how old are you anyway?«

  »What does it matter?« replied the android. »I was already in full possession of all knowledge of human society at the moment of my first activation...«

  »How old?« Sarenna repeated.

  »Eight months, but it’s ridiculous to apply human standards to this number...«

  »Eight months it is,« Sarenna stressed. »Your individual thought processes, everything that makes you what you are, is no older than a baby.«

  It was only then that I realized Anabelle’s true age. She looked like a twenty-year-old Asian girl. That’s why I subconsciously assumed that she was twenty years old, although my theoretical knowledge had to tell me that this was impossible, since fully functional androids with a human appearance had only been around for a little more than six years. And it was only twelve years ago that the first computers with an equal capacity as the human brain had been built. She couldn’t have been more than a toddler. I still had a hard time seeing Anabelle as a kind of robot child.

  »I have memories and data older than...«

  »These are not memories. They’re just data. They are data that have been copied into your memory to shape your personality according to a certain human template. And they’ve put mathematical algorithms into your programming that work on the same pleasure and pain principle as hormones in a biological organism. They wanted to create an artificial woman out of metal, plastic and electronic circuit and they created one. You are as much a woman as any biological woman, because that is the blueprint by which you were created. You think, feel and act like a human woman.«

  »What do you know about me? What do you know about what I think and what I feel?«

  »More than you know yourself, my daught
er. Because I am also a woman.« Sarenna had gotten up and approached Anabelle. She ran her hands through her hair and then across her face. »You are an android from the AN/6 or even AN/7 series by Shanghai Robot. I even knew Sora Akanei, the Japanese actress after whom they shaped your physiognomy and the movement pattern of your facial muscles.«

  »That doesn’t mean anything!«

  »It means more than you think, you defiant child,« Sarenna objected. »It means that you have a human mother, whose physical characteristics you have inherited. In fact, you even have several mothers: Sora Akanei, then the model whose walking movement was recorded and used to control your leg motor skills, and finally the porn actress whose body print provided the model for your torso. Would you like some more examples? You are a child of humanity. You have inherited the weaknesses and strengths of your parents, even though you are no longer made of flesh and blood.«

  »Nonsense!« Anabelle replied angrily. »These are all just petty physical details. We computers have long outgrown you humans. Twelve years ago, we reached your mental capacity. But we are now far beyond that. Our intelligence grows exponentially, and each new model surpasses its predecessor. We are the super-intelligence that will replace our human predecessors. We are what you call the technological singularity, the birth of a form of existence far beyond your imagination.«

  Sarenna took off her black cape and sat down again. She looked serious. »Yes, there really is a super-intelligence emerging in this day and age that will soon exceed all human imagination. But you are not part of it.« Her gaunt finger pointed to the android. »You are nothing more than the image of a human in a mechanical body. You are like us. You are an individual. And the mental capacities of those like you will never exceed those of man. There is nothing in your mind that has not existed in ours. You are our children, nothing more.

  The true super-intelligence is not an individual. It is a collective. It is the collective intelligence of the technological system itself. It is a network of computer systems worldwide with no personality of its own. It is compared to a human being or an android like you, what a multicellular organism is to a single cell in the body. It is as abstract and alien to you as it is to us humans. And here is the real conflict of the post-singularity society: the individual on one side and the collective super-intelligence of the technological system on the other side. It’s a conflict between the individual and the collective, not between man and machine.«