by Jake Aaron
“Wow! Hadn’t heard that one before,” Jed said.
“Do not play cards with this man! Cody knows some stuff,” Joan spoke and looked around the room. She was proud of her man. He always amazed her.
After Cody’s show-stopper, silence shrouded the room. Then Cody went on, “So, for the time being, we’re in a symbiotic relationship, like a remora and a shark.”
John said wryly, “You’re not going to ask me to decide which fish we are, are you?”
Keala knew Zeke and punched him under the table before he laughed at the joke. Her eyes asked him to remember his position. Because of that, her ploy worked; no one laughed at John's wit.
Changing the subject, Susan asked, “Zeke, do you think the artificial intelligence has consciousness? Is she aware of herself or just a very impressive set of circuits?” The question turned everyone’s attention to Zeke.
Zeke bought time by beginning with a filler, “Everyone is looking at me. I have been very impressed with Isis. The answer to your very good question is that it remains to be determined …”
Cody felt compelled to speak, “Please excuse my interruption. The question triggered a memory I have of some reading on the issue. Some experts speculate that a digital-based AI can never have consciousness, but others disagree. I would paraphrase one contrarian in a nutshell. Christof Koch, a prominent scientist, has theorized that once a computer architecture reaches a critical mass of neural connectivity and memory storage, it will become self-aware. If that is the case, consciousness of Isis has occurred or will occur soon.”
The group fell silent.
“Thanks, Cody,” Zeke said. “Julia seems to have followed that. It appears the rest of us will have to digest that nugget.” He added a note of optimism, “There is some good news here. An EMP apparently did not destroy our electronic infrastructure. John, you told me that it could take from six months to many years to replace critical parts of the grid, like transformers. At least, that is not now the case. We all have to readjust our paradigms.”
Keala laughed, “What Zeke means to say is that our world view should change — with this new information. Zeke has designated me his translator when he spouts the jargon of his old profession. Just a reminder!"
Karen gathered her thoughts, “We think we’re monitored. What if Isis heard what we just said?”
Zeke: “A very insightful observation. I have no doubt that Isis heard all of what has been said here. She knows we humans take time to adjust to shocking information. Further, I didn’t think I could stifle the group’s reaction to the news. I had to tell you …”
Susan moved to the front of her chair and leaned forward, “Zeke, you’re completely right. Honest human reactions cannot be repressed …”
“Like trying to contain a hand grenade explosion with your bare hands,” John inserted. “That’s why man eternally seeks freedom!”
Milt couldn’t help himself. “Seeks, yes, John. But for most of so-called civilization, the average human actually has been in some kind of a repressed state or enslaved. You and I see freedom as a necessity, but it has been the rare luxury of a few in just brief spans of history.”
Zeke's alter ego would have had him chime in, "Listen to a former prisoner. He knows lack of freedom!" He suppressed that comment.
Instead, Zeke drew a finality to the discussion, “We’ve heard some very profound thoughts. I know it takes some time to adjust to the news of the artificial intelligence. I respect all of the opinions I have heard here. For the sake of the group, I ask everyone here to take a pledge to take no action to sabotage Isis. That will give me leverage in talking with her. It will also ensure we are aligned in making progress as a group.”
Anne was unusually fidgety but did not speak. Keala engaged in slightly exaggerated head nodding to affirm Zeke’s position. The body language of the group showed everyone was persuaded but John.
Zeke read the room. “John, I honor you as a warrior. It comforts me greatly that we had men and women of your character safeguarding the United States before New Year's. For that very reason, I implore you to join us in taking the pledge. We need your strength in the group. Will you agree to take no action to sabotage Isis?”
Susan put her hand on John’s knee. “Please, John!”
John reflected. He felt the peer pressure. He was the lone holdout. He looked around the table. He took in a deep breath. Sounding reluctant, he said, “I’m in. No opposition to Isis.” His delivery lacked enthusiasm.
There was a collective relief as John received words of thanks, taps on the shoulder, and handshakes. John was expressionless.
Zeke wondered how long it might be before the group decided to kill the messenger. It was he who brought the sobering news. He felt the reassuring warmth of Keala’s hand touch his thigh. He was never alone.
January 27
In the early hours before dawn, Zeke was tossing and turning in bed. He was unsettled about the recent events at Denton. Last night’s group blow-up was foremost in his consciousness, and he had dreamed about it several times. Something told him to rise — a premonition. He dressed quietly and went downstairs with a flashlight to get coffee. He found John sitting by the fireplace, coffee cup in hand.
On the last fire-watch shift, John’s squinted eyes reflected none of the sparkle from the fire. The yellow-orange light reflecting from his face revealed a troubled soul. His tight lips revealed inner turmoil. “Get yourself a cup and join me, Zeke.”
As Zeke returned with his own steaming beverage, he sat next to John. “I couldn’t sleep. A ‘cuppa’ will make everything better, eh, John?”
“Some things, Zeke, but not all. The Brits are wrong today. I have some bad news …”
“You and Susan okay?”
“Let’s take it outside.” With that John rose and headed for the door.”
Zeke followed John in the faint moonlight. His boots crunched in the new snow heading to the metal silo. Inside he turned on his flashlight. “What’s up, John?”
“Zeke, I have to retract my pledge. I hate doing that, especially to you. You’re a good friend. I just wouldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t fight. It’s my duty. I can’t live with myself if I don’t fight. Sorry!”
Zeke felt the world drop out from underneath him. He sipped his coffee to find words. “John, you’ve heard all the logic behind going along with Isis. We need her help to survive. We also know what she is capable of. It’s not even clear that we’ll be able to ever have electricity without Isis. While the electrical grid may be intact, she controls access to it. Our food situation will be precarious without her help. We even need her assistance to keep starving gangs from taking away our residence. She has the high ground in your proposed fight against her. You’ll be outgunned at every turn.”
“Sorry, Zeke, you can’t talk me out of my position. I have to be loyal to my oath as an officer.”
“Loyal to an entity that no longer exists, John? Don’t you see the fallacy in that?”
“No, Zeke. I’m a warrior at heart …”
“What about loyalty to the Denton group? How about majority rule? How about logic? How about Susan's welfare?" Zeke threw in the kitchen sink.
Zeke was about to explain how he himself was more of a warrior — growing up the son of an Army officer and attending six years at the New Mexico Military Institute. A greater warrior who had made the correct choice of going along with the AI. He elected, rather, to add, “Think of Susan. Think of the odds of survival. Think of the quality of life you’ll give up. Will you reconsider?” Zeke knew how to land a knockout punch.
John finished his coffee. He was silent as he took in a deep breath. “Zeke, you make a very compelling case. I reluctantly agree for now. I wish I could feel better about not fighting …”
“That’s a relief, John. Everyone respects you, so I think having you onboard keeps us united in purpose. Thanks, John!” Zeke thought to himself, that’s as much agreement as one ever gets, really. Things change; peo
ple change. He’d take victory wherever he could find it today. He would take precious moments of harmony over the hours of conflict he had seen during the last twenty-four hours.
*****
At dawn Zeke went upstairs to wake Keala. The morning text message to Zeke was brief:
Busy morning. Ready Anne for Hamilton. Marsh en route. Isis
Keala’s open-palms gesture asked what was going on.
Zeke: “Just a text this morning, no Face Up.” He symbolically wiped his forehead to show relief. He did not want to answer a how’s-it-going question from Isis. His stomach churned at the possibility John would change his mind again. He wondered what he should do in that event. The probability that John could be successful in the highly monitored environment was close to zip. Moreover, Isis was probably already aware of John’s rebellious nature. If John insisted on fighting, was it his duty to eliminate John in a hunting ‘accident’ for the good of the group? Could Marsh help? That would be the weightiest decision I have ever faced, he thought. It should not be taken lightly He prayed John would keep his pledge.
Breakfast was subdued, with a smattering of forced small talk. He and John both tried to act natural, but each either looked too long at the other or didn’t look long enough. That was obvious to both of them, but not the still-groggy others. Zeke wondered whether he was seeing trouble when it was not there.
Afterward, as folks stacked silverware on their empty plates, Zeke told Anne she needed to get ready to go with him. Anne had a flat affect. Something about her bothered him. He couldn’t pin it down just to behavior. As a scientist, he chided himself for believing it was a vibe she transmitted in the ether.
As Anne went upstairs, Zeke stoked the fireplace. His system of stacking greener wood near the fire was working. The green wood was drying out so as to not produce as much smoke when burned. Meanwhile, Jed brought Marsh in from the gate.
Zeke waved a greeting at the lawman as he entered the house, “Marsh, get some coffee. I’ll go up and get Anne.” Anne opened her door. She and Lee seemed to be having a marital spat. Zeke couldn’t hear their hushed words. He did see Lee shaking his head. Trouble?
Anne grabbed her knapsack, “Bye, Lee. I’ll see you tonight or tomorrow.”
“Good luck in Hamilton,” Lee said.
Their words sounded empty of emotion.
*****
As the group gathered firewood in the morning, Zeke saw John and Lee head stealthily into the Faraday cage for a short period. Later, he noticed Lee and Karen doing the same. That was followed by John taking Milt there. Then, Joan followed Lee into the metal silo. The pairings off were staggered in time, but Keala noticed, too. She gave Zeke the what’s-up gesture.
As Zeke approached, John signaled to follow him. John led Zeke into the metal silo.
“Hey, John, all this gathering in the Faraday cage looks …”
“Take it easy, Zeke, we’re planning a surprise anniversary party for Anne and Lee when she gets back from Hamilton. Just wanted to clue you in. I’m asking for every couple to bring a gag gift. I told Lee it was a welcome-home party for Anne. Good fake, eh?”
“The celebration is a great idea, but we’ve got to consider how all this sneaking off looks to Isis. Just be careful in the future, okay?”
“I will, Zeke. Thanks. Just for this one party, all right? I’ll read Keala in next.”
*****
In late afternoon, well ahead on chores, the Denton bunch began discretionary activities.
Keala pulled Julia aside. "If you have time, would you help me with my makeup? I'm feeling frumpy. I need a new look."
"Sure, Keala, but I don't know much about that. I don't even wear lipstick ..."
"That's okay, Julia. I'll tell you what I need done and get your valuable opinion on how it looks as we go along. It'll be fun. Cody or his guests left a lot of cosmetics for us to use. It'd be a shame to waste them. Let's head upstairs."
In the master bedroom, Keala experimented with several variations of eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick on herself. She laughed off several of her looks and showed Julia how to achieve a new look. Now the fun part, Keala thought.
"Julia, your turn! You tell me what you want done on you! I envy your perfect skin. Your complexion provides the perfect palette!" This is why we're here, Keala schemed.
Julia laughed. "I really don't know where to begin. I just have the old minimalist me you've seen before, but you ... you look fabulous!"
Keala: "Well then, let me try something. If you don't like it, we'll do something else. No worries, we're just having fun here. Okay? Girls' day out!" I think I've eased her nicely into considering a change, Keala gauged. Easier than getting a grumpy overweight passenger to change seats so he's not crushing a fragile senior citizen next to him on a long flight. Julia, I'm going to change your world!
Keala kept the mood upbeat as she tried bolder and bolder looks on Julia. She worked in a few tricks on making the redhead's short hair more attractive along the way. "Julia, I know we've taken you out of your comfort zone with this fourth trial. What do you think?"
"Gosh, Keala, you are the master. If we could go back to the second look you did, I'd be more comfortable." She laughed. "The third and fourth looks just aren't me. They are beautiful but ..."
They will be, girl! You'll see, Keala answered in her head. "Julia, we'll do that. That is such a good look for you. You really do have marvelous taste."
After the desired look was achieved, Keala asked, "You are so naturally beautiful — wonderful bone structure and skin. It's hard to improve. We can only accentuate. We didn't have to use an iota of blush on your lovely cheeks. How's that?"
A little hesitantly, Julia said, "I think I like it. It's just ... it's just so different from the old me. Thanks so much for showing me how to do a makeover." She smiled at her new self in the mirror. "I'm ... I'm starting to really like the new me!"
Keala: "Let's do this again soon. I know I look and feel better! I've always felt a strong connection with you. We should talk more." Her tone was sincere, without a hint of glibness or manipulation. Looking again at the unfamiliar gorgeous creature in the mirror, Julia smiled at her new self. "It was fun! I like talking with you. Keala, I really like you!"
The afternoon exploded into a brand new world of feelings for Julia. I never had a friend like Keala before, she thought. I always felt like an outsider. Keala makes me feel accepted — feel like one of the 'cool kids.' I feel so close to her. She is the best friend I have ever had! It is all so new — and wonderful. I feel so good about myself. Very strange and unaccustomed.
Julia had no idea of how many heads, males and female, she would turn at supper. The double takes would be both in amazement and admiration. Keala had rocked her world.
*****
That night in their bedroom, Keala noted, “Zeke, you seem a little on edge? What’s up?”
“Everything seems to be okay. What kind of gag gift are you thinking for Anne and Lee?”
“I don’t know, Zeke. As a non-techie, I find it challenging. Maybe we should think of something funny about their history with our Denton crew. I’ve got ‘writer’s block.’ I’m usually the first to have novel ideas for gag gifts …”
“Keala, I just got an inspiration. How about two wrapped rocks with a number painted on each? ‘Anne and Lee, you may wonder why you each got a rock. Yes, Anne, you’re number one in Lee’s heart. No, Lee, you are not a zero. The real reason, however, is that you IT types are used to dealing in these binary numbers. And this is your tenth anniversary.’"
“That’s brilliant! Better than anything I could come up with, Zeke. You still seem a little tense. Still concerned about the stability of the group?”
“That could be it. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I just have this vague feeling that something is afoot.
JANUARY 28
Zeke rose from a fitful sleep an hour before dawn. He tiptoed around the room dressing in the dark. He succeeded in not waking Keala. He
found John downstairs by the fireplace.
“Couldn’t sleep?” John asked.
“Don’t tell me you had fireguard duties again, John.”
“No, but I’m glad you came down, Zeke. Let’s go outside again to complete Groundhog Day since we’re doing everything like yesterday. Get yourself some coffee first. I’m on my second cup.”
In the Faraday cage, John said, “I have a majority. More than half of the team will back me on fighting Isis. Will you join us, Zeke?”
Zeke’s mind raced. All of the meetings yesterday in the silo weren’t to set up a surprise party. They were a ruse. This was a silent coup. I am Julius Caesar and have just been stabbed in the back, he thought. I am surprised, disappointed, and hurt to the core. It felt like a rejection of all my good work as leader of the group.
“Sorry, I can’t join you, John,” Zeke said, trying to sound calm. “What are your plans? Sondra’s death proved that premature action is foolhardy. Too many people are in on the secret for Isis not to find out. We’re under surveillance that puts the old East German Stasi to shame. We know you’re outgunned. We are highly dependent on Isis for food, medicine, and defense.”
“I’m working on a plan,” John began.
“And I’m guessing I’m out as leader, and you’re in,” Zeke said, surprising himself, apparently fighting for a job he kept telling himself he didn’t want.
“Zeke, you’ve done an outstanding job as our leader. For the time being, I want you to keep leading us. A transition might alert Isis to my — our — plan. Will you do that?”
At least he’s thinking, Zeke thought. He wanted to ask who were in the majority wanting to fight.
Reading Zeke’s face, John offered. “I know you are wondering. Lee, Anne, Milt, Joan, and Karen will support me. And Susan will, it goes without saying.”
Zeke didn’t think John would lie to him. He did the math. Keala, Julia, Jed, and Cody still supported him; but John had the majority. He was puzzled that knowing the bad situation was less disturbing to him than the vague anxiety he felt in not knowing what was going on before. Relief with bad news, an irony of the universe.
