Infinity Born

by Douglas E. Richards

  Carr hadn’t really considered things in this way, but it did explain a lot. How virtual assistants like Echo, Google Home, and Siri had become so uncannily good that they seemed to be able to read minds. There were times when Carr was convinced that his phone knew he wanted to stop at a gas station for a snack, and exactly which snack he would choose, before he did.

  “The important take-home message,” said Dwyer, “is that we’ve had access to more of these data sources than any other party in the world. Along with a huge budget and top people. Because of this, despite a daunting level of competition, we had reason to believe Melanie’s project was the most advanced out there. At least that we’re aware of.”

  “How much is out there that you aren’t aware of?”

  “We don’t know what we don’t know,” said Dwyer. “In addition to the AI and AGI projects tech giants brag about, there are a number of stealth efforts being led by wealthy individuals. Highly secret and unacknowledged. We think we know about all of them. But we can’t be sure.”

  “What about government or military efforts in other nations?” said Carr.

  Dwyer sighed deeply. “That’s the trillion-dollar question. We’re devoting an unprecedented amount of intelligence to make sure we know what’s happening around the world. But there is no doubt we’re missing a lot. And this is the truly scary part. Every major government in the world has thrown itself headlong into this gold rush, friend and foe alike. Based on what we think we know, we still tend to believe we’re in the lead. Followed fairly closely by China, Israel, Russia, and Germany.”

  “Even after last Tuesday?” said Carr pointedly.

  Melanie frowned. “This was a huge setback,” she said, “no question about it. We still like to think we’re leading, but we could be fooling ourselves. It’s possible that the only leading we’re doing right now—to borrow a phrase—is leading from behind.”

  Carr nodded. “What about India? I’m surprised they aren’t on your list of leaders.”

  “They would be,” said the Secretary of Defense, “but their best people tend to end up here, working on our efforts.”

  He paused. “But when it comes to AGI, being in the lead could well mean nothing. Tiny Luxembourg could make a breakthrough tomorrow and leapfrog us to the finish line. And Artificial General Intelligence is the finish line for only a short while. Whoever achieves this gets to Artificial Super Intelligence, ASI, in no time.”

  Carr nodded thoughtfully. “I’m familiar with the concept,” he said. “So whoever gets there first rules the world.”

  “Yes,” said Dwyer. “And that’s without any hyperbole. Literally rules the world.”

  “Why wouldn’t the ASI itself rule the world, go Terminator on us? Why would it need humanity?”

  This time Melanie jumped in to answer. “Because thanks to James Cameron and others, this possibility has been thoroughly brought to our attention. Asimov—now considered to be the father of robotics—posited designing robotic brains with absolute safeguards way back in 1942. Safeguards that would ensure robots were friendly and obedient. Safeguards he famously called the Three Laws of Robotics. These are laughably incomplete and unworkable, with their flaws actually forming the basis of his stories. But the point is, we’ve developed infinitely more sophisticated mechanisms to ensure that we’ll still be running the show.”

  “But when you say we’ll still be running the show, you’re talking about humanity. That doesn’t necessarily mean the US will be running the show, does it?”

  “Bingo,” said Dwyer. “That’s why the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been.”

  “And someone just sabotaged our best effort,” said Carr. “And we don’t know who.”

  “That’s right,” said the Secretary of Defense. “And because of the stakes—for companies, economies, and militaries—this has become the mother of all Charlie Foxtrots.”

  “Charlie Foxtrots?” said Melanie, raising an eyebrow.

  “The Secretary is being polite,” said Carr. “It’s the expletive-free version of the military term, Cluster Fuck. A chaotic situation in which multiple things go wrong at the same time.”

  “And even this term doesn’t do it justice,” said Dwyer. “Between governments, corporations, and wealthy private citizens, there are hundreds of players racing to get to ASI first. And given the biggest first mover advantage of any tech in history, they all know that this is the ultimate winner-takes-all situation. Coming in second is no better than coming in last, or not finishing at all. Even players who are convinced that ASI is too dangerous to mess with, that it’s playing with fire, are racing forward.”

  “Because they can’t afford to let their enemies discover fire before they do,” said Carr.

  “That’s right,” said Dwyer. “So almost every player is watching every other. At minimum, they’re spying and trying to steal secrets. Some corporations, and all governments, are also trying to sabotage each other’s efforts whenever they can. Remember how much of a Wild West it was ten or fifteen years ago, when every government was hacking into the computers of every other? Well, this makes that look tame and orderly. We’ve basically got a high stakes demolition derby in the middle of a mud-filled stadium.”

  “Which is another big reason no one has reached the finish line,” said Melanie. “Like we learned last Tuesday, the closer you are to the finish, the more likely your knees get taken out. Successful projects are about as safe as mob informants. So in addition to a scarcity of talent, the top programs have all been sabotaged along the way. Google, Amazon, and Facebook were among the first hit.”

  “All by different saboteurs?” said Carr.

  The SecDef shook his head. “No. We thought so at first. Numerous parties are attempting it, and some have succeeded, but the major players like Google have security that rivals ours. Hell, we isolated our latest attempt inside Area 51. Area 51! The most secure site in the world, period. Until now. Someone still managed to get to us. We’ve become convinced that while others are trying, most of the havoc has been created by a single party. One who is just better at it than the others, for reasons that aren’t clear.”

  Dwyer paused to let Carr digest this information, and then continued. “The sabotage is often quite subtle. A few lines of code are changed that prevent algorithms from working properly, but only after being uploaded into systems. Usually the glitches aren’t discovered until months or years later, after causing scientists to bark up the wrong tree for that entire time. Those responsible seem to zero in on the key scientists, also, and hack their computers, screwing them up at every step along the way. Often, when someone does come up with a breakthrough, before they can finish saying eureka, the breakthrough has been erased from existence, including being wiped from multiple computers, data sticks, and the cloud. Nothing like putting the finishing touches on a million lines of code, only to find that the originals and backups have succumbed to seek-and-destroy viruses of unparalleled complexity.”

  “Surely whoever is behind this has left some fingerprints,” said Carr.

  Dwyer shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We’ve basically gotten nowhere.”

  “And not for lack of trying,” said Melanie.

  “Which shows just how sophisticated they really are,” added Dwyer. “As I’ve said, numerous other players, ourselves included, have been attempting to sabotage the others, but with much less impact than this one group is having.”

  “Have all of our rivals been sabotaged?” asked Carr.

  “You’re thinking that if one country remained untouched,” said Dwyer, “perhaps this is the country behind it.”

  “It’s worth at least asking the question,” said Carr. “The problem is that the country responsible might just pretend to have been sabotaged. Or they might run a false flag operation, purposely leaving another country alone to make them look guilty.”

  “Our logic was the same as yours,” said Dwyer. “But we still asked the question anyway. Our intel suggests all of th
e major players have been hit at one time or another.”

  Carr shook his head. The situation couldn’t be more chaotic. Charlie Foxtrot was right.

  Dwyer’s expression had been grim throughout, but he somehow managed to find an even greater level of seriousness. “If a Western democracy other than ours gets to ASI first,” he said, “we won’t be happy, but we can live with it. Their values would prevent them from pursuing . . . for want of a less corny phrase, world domination. But if China, North Korea, Iran, Russia, or any number of other countries get there first, it’s game over.”

  A long silence filled the Secretary of Defense’s spacious office.

  Finally, Dwyer continued. “So your job, Lieutenant Carr, is to find out who’s responsible. We suspect a rival nation-state, for obvious reasons. But it could be a group of Luddites, dedicated to retarding the advance of science, although this is unlikely given the advanced tech that’s been unleashed. It could be a terror group. Although, again, we think this unlikely.”

  “I agree,” said Carr. “As sophisticated as Jihadi groups have become, they aren’t this sophisticated. And they use any tech they get to kill people, not research programs. Still, I take your point. We shouldn’t rule out anyone.”

  “At least not absolutely,” said Dwyer.

  “So with all of your resources,” said Carr, “with a dozen or more intelligence agencies working on the problem, you’ve gotten nowhere. And you expect me, alone, to be able to crack this case?”

  “I do,” replied Dwyer, not giving an inch. “From what I understand, you’ve pulled off miracles before. And while I’d prefer you work totally alone whenever possible, you’ll have ready access to whatever resources you require, human or otherwise, no questions asked. If you need men, you’ll have them. And you’ll have a blank check. Need a tank battalion in the streets of Beverly Hills? Just say the word. I’ll be giving you command codes that only the president can countermand. I hope you appreciate how much responsibility we’re putting in your hands.”

  Carr nodded thoughtfully. The situation was clear. Dwyer believed previous failures were due to leaks, or due to the bad actor they were seeking sabotaging, not just AGI, but the US’s efforts to identify them. Which explained the lone ranger approach, and why this mission was cloaked in an unprecedented level of secrecy, restricting those who knew of his involvement to a tiny handful.

  He could wield men and resources, but he couldn’t really tell them what he was trying to do—especially not that US AGI efforts had been repeatedly stopped in their tracks.

  But he would have to disclose something to the people he worked with or to the leads he developed. Otherwise, his job would be impossible. So no matter how much Dwyer might think Carr’s success depended on his ability to sneak up on the perpetrators without being seen, he would have to risk disclosing that his mission involved some aspect of AGI. The best he could do was disclose this only when absolutely necessary, and downplay the scope and importance of his mission.

  “You aren’t—formally—authorized to kill to complete your mission,” continued Dwyer, “unless it’s in self-defense. Same goes for torture. But think of these more as rough . . . guidelines. If you leave a trail of bodies, I’m fully prepared to ignore any evidence that suggests they weren’t killed in self-defense. Even if it’s on US soil. If I find men complaining of rough interrogations at your hand, I’ll be disinclined to believe their version of events.”

  “Understood,” said Carr simply.

  “You’ll report directly to me, but you’ll have an open line to President Strausser. Melanie will serve as a scientific consultant. She’ll make sure you have the most advanced untraceable phones, weapons, and any other tech you need. If it would be useful in your mission to have tech that hasn’t been invented yet, check with Melanie. Perhaps it has been, after all, in a Black Laboratory somewhere.”

  “Roger that,” said Carr.

  “I’ll have all the intel we have on this situation brought into my office. What we know about past sabotage, what we know about what happened last Tuesday. Every conjecture or theory we’ve ever had. Every investigation we’ve ever done—all dead ends, of course. But important background for you to have. I’ll leave you to it for as long as you need.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Carr.

  Dwyer stared deeply into the eyes of the operative across the desk from him. “I know this has been a lot to take in, and you haven’t had a chance to think about it, but any idea of where you might begin?”

  Carr pondered this for several long seconds. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Good,” said Dwyer. “Keep it to yourself. I only want to hear from you if you need something, or if you’ve made progress. I don’t care how you go about completing this assignment. I only care about results.”

  Cameron Carr blew out a long breath. “Understood,” he said wearily, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.

  PART 3

  Cameron Carr

  13

  David Bram stood behind Riley Ridgeway, the most beautiful girl on the planet, with his arms wrapped around her waist. It had been a perfect Saturday. Bram had picked Riley up early that morning for breakfast, and they would be spending the entire rest of the weekend together, as usual. This weekend they had both decided to be homebodies, taking advantage of Bram’s Jacuzzi and home theater.

  They both remained silent, at peace, looking out over the beach and the Pacific Ocean that comprised the front yard of Bram’s San Diego home, their eyes locked on the brilliant but waning sun as it began to slip below the horizon. This was a ritual they had repeated often. Even so, it had never become less spectacular.

  Which was also true of Riley Ridgeway.

  Bram knew he had to find a way to marry this girl if it was the last thing he ever did. It wasn’t just that he was in love, it was that he knew beyond a doubt that he would never meet her equal again. Not in beauty, not in intelligence, and not in personality.

  She turned to face him for a moment and he quickly changed expression. He knew from experience that being caught looking like a lovesick puppy could send the relationship reeling.

  The problem was that anytime she got a vibe that their relationship was serious and had a long-term future, she pulled away. As long as she could convince herself that they were nothing more than two people who enjoyed each other’s company and physical intimacy, he was in good shape. The moment she sensed otherwise, she made immediate efforts to call it quits. She had an almost magnetic repulsion to closeness, to anything more than a superficial emotional connection. He had almost lost her—twice—before he had come to understand this.

  They had been dating for almost a year, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out exactly why she was so averse to allowing the relationship to go to the next level. They were fantastic together.

  He was in love with her, of course, but to be fair, any man who saw Riley Ridgeway for even five minutes thought he was in love. She moved with the grace of a dancer and possessed such a clean, flawless beauty that she captured the attention of both men and women, their eyes having no other choice but to follow her, to dwell, to marvel that such perfection could even exist. And yet she behaved as though she had no awareness that her looks were in any way special.

  Bram knew that the only reason he had even had a chance with her when they began dating was that she was also blindingly brilliant, and almost certainly intimidating to any suitor.

  Even Bram found himself feeling intimidated at times, which took a lot of doing. But her intelligence didn’t scare him off, it attracted him even more. And at least he was bright enough to keep her from being bored.

  Not that Riley flaunted her intelligence. She hadn’t gone to college, and Bram wasn’t even sure she had finished high school. She was down-to-earth and self-effacing, and worked in various capacities at an animal shelter, one of the least pretentious jobs it was possible to have. Not only didn’t she try to impress anyone with he
r IQ, he sometimes felt she went out of her way to hide it.

  But this wasn’t possible, not entirely. She was so sharp she couldn’t help but show it. It had snuck up on Bram, subtle at first, and then increasingly more obvious. It was the speed at which she assimilated information and the shrewdness of her mind. It was the way she solved the most challenging Sudoku puzzles so effortlessly, seemingly unaware that they were brutally difficult for everyone else.

  Despite her brilliance, she didn’t come across as the least bit geeky. She had a warm and outgoing personality.

  Except for when she suddenly didn’t. When he could feel her restraining her personality even more forcefully than she tried to restrain her intellect. She would become suddenly aloof, disengaged, as if annoyed she had ever allowed her true personality to emerge from a self-imposed prison.

  Why was she holding back so much? Was she subconsciously reflecting Bram’s own inability to fully reveal himself?

  David Bram was brilliant in his own right. He had been working as a key scientist at Apple’s small San Diego facility now for five years, which most thought was a sufficient explanation for his wealth. Not many twenty-eight-year-olds could afford the payments on a six-million-dollar home on the beach in Del Mar, but most just assumed that if you worked at Apple—with the stock price being what it was—you were loaded, that even the janitors there were millionaires.

  Bram knew this hadn’t been true for some time.

  He was wealthy because he had a master’s degree from MIT and was an expert in machine learning. He had been in a PhD program, but he had made so much progress on his thesis that he got a number of unsolicited offers he couldn’t refuse.