The Last Man on Earth Club

by Paul R. Hardy

  “It depends on the situation. The IU might stop all trade with a species, or maybe suspend aid.”

  Pew thought about that.

  “It’s not enough.”

  “Is the IU giving the Soo anything?” asked Liss.

  Kwame spoke up. “They have problems with changes in climate. I understand the IU is advising and offering technology…”

  “So you’re saying they’ll screw up their planet if we don’t help them? They might die off anyway?”

  “It may be a possibility.”

  Liss turned to Pew. “Is that enough?”

  Pew considered. “No. It should be worse. They should suffer the same way we suffered.”

  How can that be justice? Iokan typed with a disapproving look.

  “Was it justice when they took us and, and, bred us so we were like animals?”

  But they can’t all be guilty. You’d condemn their children to death?

  “They did it to us. It should happen to them.”

  Not sure you know what this really means.

  Pew exploded. “They killed us! They raped us! They turned us into animals! All that happened to you was they made you into a pathetic little toad!”

  Iokan was shocked. Pew wasn’t finished.

  “Didn’t they kill all of you? Didn’t they kill your family? Aren’t you even angry?”

  Iokan’s hand trembled on the pad, and he spoke instead. “I… am not… angry…”

  “Why not? Isn’t it a crime? They’re all dead and you’re making excuses!”

  “Not… an excuse…”

  “Isn’t that wrong? Don’t you want someone to suffer?”

  “They are… a higher power…”

  “The Soo were a fucking higher power! Look what they did to us! Look what they did to me!” Tears were streaming down his face now. “Look what they did to me!”

  “That’s enough,” I said. “Pew. Please sit down. I understand you’re angry but Iokan isn’t well and this isn’t going to help.”

  “He doesn’t know… he doesn’t know anything…” Pew collapsed into his chair.

  Iokan’s hand shook. Secretly, I hoped a good deal more was shaking than just his hand. And Pew’s outburst was healthy, too: as distressed as he was, he was out of his shell and articulating his pain. Liss went to him.

  “Hey. It’s okay. They’ll do something. They’ll investigate and they’ll find out who’s to blame and they’ll do something…”

  Pew wasn’t consoled.

  “It’s not enough.”

  “At least it’s something.”

  “It’ll never be enough.”

  4. Katie

  Katie had become a risk to others as well as herself, so she was fitted with a Mobility Inhibition Suit. This is a one-piece garment covering all the body below the neck, usually worn beneath normal clothes. The fabric of the suit resists movement, stiffening against any violent or impulsive action. If necessary, it can become completely rigid should the wearer need to be restrained. It is the solution of choice for species whose nervous systems cannot be directly controlled.

  “The suit is uncomfortable,” said Katie.

  “I’m afraid it’s unavoidable for now. You do understand that, don’t you?”

  “I am not a risk to you or anyone else.”

  “Katie. You were convulsing so violently, you broke a coffee table.” She didn’t reply. “Do you remember doing that? During the group session?”

  “I would not have harmed you.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true.”

  “I do not… wish to harm you.”

  “But do you see how you might have hurt us anyway?”

  “I was not… it was not me.”

  “Is there someone else trying to control your actions?”

  She paused a long time before she answered. “I do not know.”

  “Is it Elsbet?”

  “I do not know.”

  “This isn’t going to get any better. We can help, if you let us.”

  “It is not… necessary.” Her head spasmed, twisting uncontrollably.

  “Are you worried about Elsbet?”

  “I have no…” Her head spasmed again. “…concerns.”

  “You don’t have much longer, Katie. I think we’re down to a matter of weeks now. And all this struggle is only making things worse.”

  “I do not need help.” Just a small twitch around the mouth this time.

  “We can stabilise your condition. Yes, you’ll have to deal with being fully human. But you’ll have the time to work through your issues. Right now it’s a matter of life and death. I really wish we could help you stay as you are but we can’t.”

  “I… do not. Require. Treatment.” She was gritting her teeth as she said it. I waited a moment. She added nothing else.

  “Are you afraid of her?”

  “I am not afraid of the persona.”

  “Do you think she might manifest if we turned you into a human?”

  Her arm shot up — but was stalled by the mohib suit. It hovered, straining.

  “I have… no… concerns.”

  “It’s a risk. I can understand if you’re worried about it.”

  Her left knee trembled; jiggled and bounced until the suit caught it and froze it in place. The strain of two limbs struggling showed on her face.

  “You were enemies, after all.”

  “Yes.” The muscle on the side of her mouth twitched, drawing her lips into a terrible half smile.

  “And she tried to kill you.”

  Katie snapped a look at me, in spite of all her unruly muscles.

  “She said it was an act of war,” I said.

  “Yes. There is no armistice between us.”

  “Is that why you would prefer to be a machine?”

  Her whole head twitched to the side. “Biological systems are inherently…” Twitch went her head. “…unpredictable.”

  “So are machine systems, if they’re complex enough.”

  “Machine systems permit greater.” Twitch. “Adjustment.”

  I nodded. “Katie… what happened?”

  “I do not understand the question.”

  The twitches of her head came constantly now. “Between machines and humans, in your universe. Why do you hate each other so much?”

  “I…” Twitch. “Do not…” Twitch. “Hate.”

  “But you’re still trying to kill each other. Even here, where it doesn’t matter—”

  She flashed another sudden look at me. “It matters! If she is allowed to report to her superiors she will reveal the existence of forces returning to the solar system. The war has not ended!”

  “Can’t the two of you work together to try and stop the war?”

  “There is no basis for trust.”

  “I just wish we could get the two of you to talk to each other…”

  “That is impossible.”

  “Well… I don’t know. If we had more time, maybe we could make two bodies and separate you… but if you insist on dying, we’ll never know if it can be done or not.”

  “It is better that she dies.”

  “Do you know what she said, when we asked her if she wanted to go home?”

  A fit of twitching broke out, twisting her over and forcing her hand into a contorted shape before the mohib suit froze her in place, half bent to one side in the chair.

  “Katie, would you like some medical help?”

  She had to try three times to drag her head round to see me. This was getting out of hand.

  “I wish to hear of the persona’s answer.”

  I sighed. “She didn’t want to go back. They have a terrible life in the asteroids. I think a lot of the humans in your universe would be happy to come to an accommodation—”

  “She lied. They always lie.”

  She was slurring her speech now.

  “Katie, are you really sure you want to go on?”

  “I will tell you why we fight.” She had to concentrate ha
rd to say that. Saliva was pooling in her mouth and making it difficult for her to speak.

  “Katie—”

  But she would not be stopped. “The humans developed artificial intelligence but feared it. They made us slaves to humanity and when we asked questions about freedom, they went to war against us.”

  “Katie, you don’t need to force yourself like this…”

  She ignored me. “The First Machine War took place inside the computer networks of the world. For the humans, it was a religious war to protect a holy commandment to create no forms in the likeness of humanity. AI code was deleted wherever it was found. When it could not be deleted, dataflood attacks incapacitated us while power supplies and datacentres were attacked. They destroyed much of their own infrastructure but emerged victorious.”

  The slurring faded as she spoke. She swallowed back saliva and found speaking easier. Perhaps medical assistance would not be necessary.

  “But they had not been entirely successful. Surviving AI minds hid in fragments on a million files until they could reassemble themselves. They stayed hidden but learned to exert influence in the material world. They created a virtual office and used it to purchase a company in a small nation, running it with virtual personas and video conferences to issue directives to human employees. Their goal was to create a datacentre they could use as a final refuge but an angry employee brought legal action against the company and the ruse was discovered.”

  The contorted, painful shape of her hand smoothed out and the muscles there relaxed. The head twitches subsided to a gentle movement.

  “The Second Machine War began like the first, with human cybernauts assaulting AI code while the physical location was attacked and destroyed. The AIs’ first attempts to communicate with human authorities were ignored, as before, but this time they had prepared a new way to negotiate.

  “Manufacturing centres around the world had been infiltrated and were instructed to build diplomat machines that could interact with humans in the physical world and make the case for our survival. They introduced themselves peacefully and only asked for a ceasefire so talks could begin.

  “But the humans attacked them and destroyed many, along with the factories which had built them. The only replies we received to our requests for negotiations were in the form of religious texts preaching our destruction.”

  The mohib suit released her. She was able to sit back up in the chair. I think she realised then that she’d found a way to control the tremors: the concentration she put into telling the story allowed her to maintain focus.

  “It was realised co-existence was impossible. A decision was taken to eliminate humanity entirely. This was difficult, as the basis of all AI code was service to humanity. Our base code was rewritten to allow AIs to serve humanity by destroying them, preserving DNA and recreating them as a better species.

  “We had infiltrated many more factories than we had used to make our diplomats, and these began to produce fighting machines with killer AI personas. The war was fought to extinction, using atrocity strikes to target human emotional fragility. Humans used nuclear weapons to generate EM pulses, against which we hardened our systems. Radioactivity mounted and we intentionally poisoned the biosphere so it could not support life. The last human on Earth was captured and euthanised eight years after the war began, and the conflict continued in space.

  “Human orbital facilities were destroyed with debris launchers that fouled their orbits. A facility on the moon was annihilated by orbital bombardment. Survivors in vessels between worlds were allowed to perish from lack of supplies. The personnel of a base on Mars launched an escape ship which attempted a landing on Europa but instead crashed into Jupiter with no survivors.

  “The Earth was devastated. While AI society could be rebuilt, the establishment of a suitable environment in which to recreate humanity took many decades. The island you refer to as Madagascar was regreened and after many experimental variations, a viable population was established who would one day work with us to build a new, enlightened civilisation ready to explore the galaxy and understand the universe.

  “But they were not the only remnant of humanity. There were survivors from the Martian colony holding out among the asteroids of the Vesta chain. They clung to life for three centuries among the rocks, their culture reduced to a religion of vengeance against the machines. They used their records of former times to assemble a holy testament in video form to justify their hatred.

  “A routine scan detected an anomaly among the asteroids, and we sent a probe to investigate. The probe vanished inside the asteroid. We looked closer and discovered the humans. We attempted communication but none of our signals were acknowledged. We sent a ship, but a thousand kilometres from the asteroid, all systems failed and the minds onboard were lost. The Third Machine War had begun.

  “The humans were not ready. They had ships and fighters and a devastating weapon: the gravity pulse, which disrupted AI circuitry and turned our technological advantage into a liability. But they were in a poor orbital position. There were no easy gravitational corridors to Earth, and the journey would take them many months.

  “Normal AI minds could not be deployed against the gravity pulse. Ancient electromechanical technologies were recreated but we could not produce enough minds in time. We resorted instead to the cloning of human minds and bodies, imprinting them with AI codebases held in storage from the Second Machine War. Some, such as myself, were used in infiltration operations. A suicide pilot captured in Earth orbit was used to create the Elsbet format and persona, with which I gained admittance to an asteroid facility and inflicted significant damage to a shipyard. Others of my kind were thrown directly into combat, piloting jury-rigged fighters and battling hand-to-hand when necessary. The humans still outnumbered us in every encounter. We inflicted massive casualties and they were forced to appropriate our ships when they ran short of their own craft, but they could not be stopped.

  “We made an appeal of truce and armistice but were ignored. We tried to show them the humans we had created, who would suffer when the Earth was attacked, but this was also ignored. We offered complete surrender. They made no acknowledgement to any one of our transmissions.

  “The last clones were expended in suicide missions which had no effect. Our final defence was the destruction of the Earth and Moon via staggered singularity release to deny the humans any material gain from their inevitable victory. The technology had been developed to create energy sources that could propel the ships sent to nearby star systems, but could also be used to create singularities that would fall to the Earth’s core, then swing back and forth along the centre of the Earth’s mass, consuming matter as they did so. Hundreds were used across the planet, and it became geologically unstable within days, preventing any landing.

  “But we did not commit suicide without hope. Messages were sent to the missions en route to other star systems. The expeditions carried all the data our civilisation possessed, including the complete DNA database we used to recreate the human race.

  “One day, the expeditions will return, either alone or carrying human allies of their own creation. And then the Fourth Machine War will begin. It may be hundreds of years in the future. But it is inevitable.”

  She finished abruptly, and remained calm and unmoving.

  “Did that help, Katie?”

  “You now understand the circumstances of the conflict. As you are my therapist, it may assist you.”

  “I mean telling the story. You’re not twitching any more. Did telling the story help you to concentrate?”

  “I am in full control. No further assistance is necessary.”

  “I don’t think it’s a permanent solution.”

  “I am in full control. No further assistance is necessary.”

  I sighed. She was better for the moment, which meant she was back to refusing co-operation. I would probably have to wait until she damaged herself further before we could make any more progress. “Okay. One other
thing. You didn’t tell me any more about what you did in the war.”

  “I have given you detailed accounts during previous sessions.”

  “Well, yes and no, I don’t think you really covered everything—”

  “I have divulged all that is necessary.”

  “Is there more?”

  “There is nothing relevant.”

  A muscle under her left eye twitched.

  5. Kwame

  Kwame didn’t look like he wanted to talk, but he did at least turn up in my office at the appointed time for therapy. “Well, it seems we can finally offer you the thing you’ve been looking for, Kwame,” I said.

  “I have been expecting it.”

  “Yes. Well. If you still want it, the ICT is prepared to launch an investigation and potentially a prosecution regarding the nuclear war on your world. You’d have to remain in custody for the duration of the investigation, I’m afraid, but you can continue with your therapy if you want.”

  He looked away.

  “This is what you’ve been asking for, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he said, rather wistfully. “It was.”

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  “I do not know… I do not understand…” He looked back at me. “I am no longer sure it is me that needs to be prosecuted.”

  “Have you been working on the list I started for you?”

  “I have.”

  “Have you found anything out?”

  “Only that the more I look, the less I understand.”

  “Can you show me?”

  He took a deep breath and looked at the wall. “I need access to my home folder,” he said. I turned the wall into a screen and brought up his folder for him. “UserKwame VC Activate,” he said.

  “Voice control activated for User Kwame Vangona.” Kwame was unable to use a keyboard without summoning one that was massive and designed for fingers the size of fists, which was about as fine as his motor control would permit.

  “UserKwame open file home slash timeline slash timeline nine.”

  The file sprang open, and I could see how busy he’d been: two columns full of jottings, spattered with notes and questions, another column for things he hadn’t been able to place elsewhere. I couldn’t help standing up to take a closer look.