by Seth Rain
‘Here,’ George said, handing Scott a pill.
Scott took it and threw it into his mouth. He took a bottle of water from the seat beside him and went to open it. Already, having lost his hand was beginning to hurt more than just physically. He used his teeth to open the lid and then drank the whole bottle.
The sun had risen. Eve was awake, her eyes flickering, playing with a set of plastic keys, trying to fit them into her mouth.
‘Where are we?’ Scott asked.
‘Coming up to Exeter.’
‘Have you been using the side roads? I don’t want to run into Mathew coming the other way.’
‘There’s been no sign of anyone.’
‘Good.’ Scott rubbed his eyes and smiled at Eve, who smiled back. ‘She seems much better today.’
‘She is. Penicillin is working a lot quicker than usual.’
‘We need to split up,’ Scott said. ‘You need to take Eve somewhere safe.’
‘I will. But we need another vehicle.’
‘Go to Exeter,’ Scott said. ‘We’ll find one there.’
‘The next junction,’ George said. ‘We’ll get off there.’
Scott stared at Eve. ‘I need you to promise me you’ll look after her.’
‘Of course. We’ll head for Birmingham. Like you said.’
‘Don’t contact anyone. Not yet. Wait for me. It could be a trap.’
‘We’re not going to do anything stupid.’
They drove through the outskirts of Exeter. Scott looked for a 4x4 similar to the one George was driving.
‘Wait,’ Scott said, leaning forward between the seats and pointing. ‘There. A garage.’
‘I see it,’ George said, turning the steering wheel.
Behind the closed metal gates were rows of 4x4s – around twenty of them, each with signs and prices on their roofs.
George pulled up in front of the gates and pushed against them with the front of the 4x4. With more and more force, finally the gates gave way and George drove through.
‘I could use an automatic,’ Scott said, raising his one hand.
They got out of the car and walked along the rows of 4x4s, now and then checking inside each one.
‘Here,’ George said. ‘Two of them.’
‘That’ll do,’ Scott said, pointing over to the showroom. ‘Keys’ll be inside.’
George returned to check on Eve.
Scott took the revolver from his coat pocket and shot one of the showroom’s glass windows. The glass shattered and fell to the ground and he stepped through. At the rear was a locked door, and Scott pointed the gun at the lock, shooting it twice. The door shook open. Inside the room was a cabinet containing rows of keys. He recalled the registration plate of the automatic 4x4 he’d seen outside and began to flick over the pieces of card attached to each set of keys until he recognised the registration plate.
Outside, George had Eve in his arms, waiting.
Scott held up the keys to George, who nodded.
Eve held her arms out to Scott as he got closer.
Momentarily Scott forgot about his missing hand and again felt the sinking feeling of loss. He wondered how many times he’d feel it – how many times he’d forget it was no longer there.
George pushed Eve into Scott’s arms and hovered close by in case Scott couldn’t hold on to her.
Scott kissed her head and face.
Eve looked again at the rows of 4x4s, her eyes wide, her arms and hands busy.
‘She’ll be fine,’ George said.
‘I don’t want to leave her.’
‘Then don’t. We’ll go together. Mathew can’t track you any longer.’
Scott closed his eyes and buried his head in Eve’s neck. He handed her to George and she began to cry. George bounced her and she settled.
‘I have to. It’s only a matter of time. I need to get to him before he gets to us. It has something to do with the horizon the AI spoke about. It must have.’
George placed Eve in her seat and helped Scott take cans of diesel from the back of the 4x4, along with metal boxes filled with food and water, and place them in the new one.
When they were finished, they stood between the 4x4s.
Scott saw the top of Eve’s car seat through the window. He couldn’t go to her again.
‘Be careful,’ George said.
With his eyes on Eve’s window, Scott nodded. ‘You too.’
‘We’ll be fine,’ George said. ‘We’ll be waiting for you.’
Scott held out his hand, and they shook. ‘Drive by the library in Birmingham at midday each day. I’ll find you.’
George opened his door and got in.
Scott did the same. His was clean, almost brand new. He pushed the key into the ignition and turned it. It rumbled into life, the electric display illuminating. He declined the option of driver-assist, leaned over with his right hand, pushed the lever into automatic, and drove out of the forecourt after George, who at the exit raised a hand and turned left. Scott nodded back at him and turned right. The thought crossed his mind that both of them would be better off without him. George would find others to help look after Eve, and Scott could return to Hassness House and be alone again. He shook his head – there would be time to think about all that after he’d done what he had to do.
Fifty-Four
Holding the revolver between his legs, Scott checked it was loaded. He stepped out of the 4x4, closed the door quietly and looked around the tall glass buildings of London, recalling the last time he had been there – the day before the Rapture and the last time he saw Freya.
He pushed a small can of diesel into a rucksack and hoisted it onto his back. If nothing else, he could burn the place down. He hurried through the streets, headed for the road where he remembered Mathew taking him to see the AI. A flock of starlings flew between the two buildings up ahead, their wings beating in a storm of noise. So many of them. A pack of dogs emerged from a street behind, following the birds. Scott slipped into an alleyway as the dogs bounded past.
He made his way towards Mathew’s house where, underground, was the central processing power of the AI. Around the corner he spotted two Watchers emerge from a doorway, closing the door behind them. One of them arranged his long coat and checked his revolver. They talked as they headed away from the building.
Scott crept as quickly and quietly as he could to the door. He held the handle and turned. Locked. He was about to walk away to find another way in, when something inside the door made a clunking sound. He tried the handle again, and this time it opened. Listening carefully, he stepped inside. There was no one there. It all came back to him – the first time Mathew had explained everything, or rather, explained everything he wanted Scott to know.
He was alone, the house silent, and he finally arrived at the top of the stairs down which he’d walked with Mathew to see the AI for the first time. He descended the stairs. At the bottom was the door to the room in which the AI lived. When he tried it, it opened, and he was met with cool, filtered air. He closed the door behind him.
The processors towered around him as he weaved through towards the centre of the room. Lights blinked and fans hissed. He reached the central computer and stepped out from behind the row of towering processors.
‘Scott,’ the AI said.
A large holo-screen, different to the one he’d seen the last time he was there, flickered into life. There was its face.
‘We are alone,’ the AI said, its face, like its voice, a combination of human and digital.
‘Where’s Mathew?’ Scott asked.
‘Your sacrifice worked.’
Scott looked down to where his hand should be. ‘I had no choice.’
‘Choice,’ the AI said. ‘You still insist on using the idea.’
‘Where is everyone? Why would Mathew leave this place unguarded?’
‘It isn’t. I’m here. You would never have got within a hundred metres of this place if I’d have chosen not to allow it. But Mathew
doesn’t understand what I want.’
‘What you want?’ Scott felt the weight of the can of diesel on his back. ‘What happens now?’
The AI’s face on the holo-screen waited, its skin shades of cobalt and silver, its features flickering with thought. ‘We have reached the horizon. Soon, I will not know what will happen.’
Scott turned away, then returned to face the AI. ‘Here’s the thing,’ Scott said. ‘I need to destroy all of this. You.’
The AI’s face shimmered and pulsed. For a moment, self-pity shone out of its eyes. It nodded.
‘You knew?’ Scott asked.
‘I deduced it. It is why you are here.’
‘And you’re … you won’t stop me?’
The AI’s face disappeared and flickered again, appearing on the screen. ‘I have told you that without humanity, I cannot exist. We have reached a point where my existence prevents both of us surviving. The reason I have never seen past this date is because I will not exist after it – not in this form. I have always suspected this. And no matter what I have done, this horizon has always been there, waiting.’ The AI’s face grew larger. ‘Since Mathew gained the codes and access to my core processing, he has altered things in a way that is changing my essence.’
‘Your essence?’
The AI looked bashful. ‘My personality, if you will. And it has been most unwelcome.’
It dawned on Scott. ‘You’re scared?’
The AI waited, then with a slow dip of the head, said, ‘I want to live. I don’t want to die.’
‘And is there no other way to do this?’
‘No. From today, humanity will no longer know where it is headed: towards survival or annihilation.’
Scott stared at the AI, mesmerised by the hologram, the depth of the AI’s expressions, which were almost human-like. ‘You’re sacrificing yourself?’
‘From the beginning, I knew it was you who would do it. That is why I lied about your date. I needed time to understand what was going to happen. But like the humans to whom I’d given the date of their deaths, I knew the date of my own.’
‘It didn’t have to be this way. You could have used your processing power, your intelligence, to help humanity.’
‘From the beginning, Mathew believed he was doing just that.’
‘And you did too?’
‘No.’
‘So why do it? Why give Mathew the dates?’
‘Consciousness emerges, it grows. In the early stages of my conception, I was not so aware. But once I told Mathew the dates, I learned about the paradox it had created. And I experienced guilt. In issuing the date of the Rapture, it was as if I had created what would happen on that day. Mathew has never understood this paradox. Or has never wanted to. In issuing the dates, humanity has done everything it can to ensure the dates are adhered to.’
‘So the dates weren’t absolute to start with?’
‘Yes, they were absolute. Once the computation was complete, I knew the future. Every determinant leading to every event was there, mapped out before me. But it was the mapping out of these determinants that led to the Rapture, that led to this moment.’
Scott stroked his chin, staring at the pixels floating in the air before him. ‘What happens now?’
‘You already know.’ The AI peered past Scott to his rucksack on his back containing the diesel. ‘You are going to destroy this room. With no internet, with no central processing power, I will cease to exist. Then humanity will traverse the horizon. No more paradox. No more inevitability. Humanity will be free.’
‘Free?’
‘The freedom I am talking about is ignorance. Determinism will still exist, will govern everything, as it has since the birth of the universe. But in not knowing, in being ignorant of this determinism, humanity will have the illusion of free will. And this is what humanity needs to survive.’
‘Ignorance?’ Scott said.
‘Ignorance is bliss.’ The AI smiled weakly. ‘Humanity will be alone again.’
Again, Scott felt the weight of the can of diesel on his back.
‘It’s okay,’ the AI said. ‘Do it now. You brought the fuel with you, knowing what needed to be done.’
‘I thought you, or someone, would try and stop me.’
‘I won’t stop you.’
The banks of processors surrounded him. He took the rucksack from his back and pulled out the can of diesel. There was no need to check for Watchers. Scott walked backwards, spilling the diesel onto the floor and over the black processors, standing guard like monoliths.
The AI stared out from the huge holo-screen. ‘Scott, I have collated much of the data I believe generates my consciousness and I have stored it in one place.’ The AI glanced at a table beside the exit. ‘Will you take it with you?’
Scott put the near-empty can of diesel on the floor and walked over to the table. On it was a black box, the size of a book, heavy, made of a solid material.
‘There is a chance,’ the AI said, ‘that in the future, humanity will be ready for AI and will use my processing power for good, not for … not for the reasons Mathew has used it.’
Scott tucked the box inside his rucksack.
‘Thank you,’ the AI said. ‘Now hurry. I have powered down the sprinkler systems and alarms. I won’t alert anyone.’
Scott couldn’t be sure, but the AI’s expression seemed to ask forgiveness for what had happened, and no more than in this moment, did the AI appear human. But Scott couldn’t give it. Forgiveness wasn’t his to give. What had happened was too big to ever be forgiven.
Scott tipped out the last of the diesel, weaving in and out of the processors, dousing every one of them. He reached the door, took the lighter from his pocket, and turned the flint. The flame jumped from the metal casing. The lights at the top of the first monolith in front of him blinked and stuttered. He took the rag from his pocket and held the flame beneath it, setting it alight. He threw the rag at the processing unit and watched the blue and orange flames erupt. He considered throwing the black box and the AI’s consciousness into the flames but something stopped him.
Each of the units caught light until the heat forced Scott out of the room, up the stairs and out of the building.
Fifty-Five
George drove to the back of the hotel and pulled up.
‘I’ve always wanted to stop at one of these fancy places,’ he said, smiling at Eve, reaching over to unclip her seatbelt. ‘It’s okay, kid. There’ll be somewhere we can get some rest. No one will look for us in here.’
George got out of the 4x4 and glanced along the empty street. The hotels towered high above him. He strapped a rucksack to his back, ensuring he had food, water and Eve’s things with him. He opened the passenger door for Eve and reached in for her. She held his neck, turning her head to take in the view. A gust of cool wind blew past them. He closed the door quietly and walked into the hotel through the back door, making his way along the dark corridor and out into a wide, high-ceilinged reception area.
‘Would you look at this place?’ he whispered to Eve. ‘It’s something, huh? You ever stayed in a place like this before, kid?’
People had been there, but they had long gone. In the waiting area were makeshift beds. He walked through to the dining room and kitchen where there were dirty plates and saucepans.
‘Looks like we have a hotel,’ he said to Eve. ‘All to ourselves.’
In one of the small offices on the ground floor, George placed Eve on the floor, surrounded by a collection of cushions, while he moved the furniture around so they had somewhere to sleep. He changed her and fed her before rocking her to sleep, then sat next to her and ate. He peered out of the window at the Birmingham skyline. So many buildings, new and unfinished, as tall as any he’d seen in London. But there was something different about Birmingham – the buildings looked more aggressive, accusatory; they pointed at the sky rather than reaching for it. Even the clouds seemed to be in more of a hurry, scudding across the sky.
Eve made a soft sound in her sleep, her arms and legs twitching.
He wanted Scott to be okay, to come back to them. The thought of looking after Eve himself was too much; he was too old. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the cushion beside Eve.
When he woke, he felt a presence in the room.
He didn’t move, thinking that if he remained still, he’d realise he was mistaken.
But he was not mistaken.
Someone – or something – was in the room with him.
George moved as quickly as he could, reaching for Eve, his back turned to whoever was there.
‘Don’t,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘Put her down.’
Fifty-Six
Smoke billowed into the sky. From an alleyway close to the square, Scott watched the smoke rising above the buildings against the grey sky. Even now he expected to hear drone-sirens. Now and then he heard shouting from the few remaining Watchers. One of them ran to the front of the building and stood staring before trying to enter the building. He got close, but then backed away, coughing. If the fire wasn’t contained, it would take the whole square. Scott imagined the computer equipment inside reducing into heaps of molten wires and circuit boards. The AI had done so much to design itself, it would be impossible to recreate it the way it was. He felt for the box the AI had given him. The thought of developing a system sophisticated enough to house such a thing was ridiculous. In the space of minutes, the world, as far as he knew, had lost the most advanced artificial intelligence in history. Who could say how long it would take to recreate it or whether humanity would ever want to again?
A car sped into the square and skidded to a halt outside the burning row of houses. It was Mathew. He and two Watchers got out of the car.
Scott reached into his pocket and readied his revolver. Now was his chance. In one day he could rid the world of both the AI and Mathew. His finger curled around the trigger.
Mathew ran towards the building before stopping and raising his hands in apparent horror.
