Fall

by Rod Rees

  Still lost in thought, Bole did as Vanka suggested, washing the red capsules down with a sip of water. ‘I must say, you intrigue me, Vanka. It’s one thing for a writer of Norma Williams’ limited intellect to promote the idea that there is a god of some description sitting in heaven, looking out for us … for humankind, but it’s quite another when you suggest that you find this idea persuasive.’

  ‘Persuasive with regard to the book’s readership,’ corrected Vanka. ‘Humankind is persistent in its need to conjure up this fantasy figure of God and Norma’s book simply reflects this need.’

  ‘Why do you think man needs God?’

  ‘Man – and here I use the word to encompass both genders of Homo sapiens sapiens – is, as we have debated before, linked to the Kosmos via the quantum function of his brain. Unfortunately, man is a somewhat immature specie and being immature, exhibits a certain hubris, hence he has wilfully misinterpreted this communion with the Kosmos to the extent that it is the enduring and widespread belief, common to all religions, that man is somehow “special”, that he was created in the image of God and has been granted dominion over all living things on the earth. This narcissistic interpretation of humankind’s role argues that it is man’s existence that is of overwhelming importance in the world … all religions turn on explaining and giving credence to this belief.’

  Bole laughed. ‘You seem very censorious of man, Vanka. If I didn’t know you better, I would say you positively disliked us.’

  ‘That, as you know, Septimus, is not and cannot be the case. But in order to serve man efficiently it is necessary to make an objective assessment of my charges.’

  ‘And what does this “objective assessment” lead you to conclude?’

  ‘That man is not special. He is not the only specie that communicates, or thinks, or uses tools, or experiences emotions … and as humankind and animals share an evolutionary and genetic heritage, this somewhat militates against the idea that man is “special”. The only thing that singles man out from the common weal is the supremely effective survival trait that is abstract thinking.’

  ‘This is nothing new, Vanka. I think all right-thinking people have accepted that man is no more and no less than a member, albeit a very capable member, of the animal kingdom. Man, post-Darwin, has been reduced to the status of a specie.’

  ‘Accurate though this observation is, Septimus, the reality is that man has railed against this demotion. The cosy fiction of man’s religious beliefs, founded on his supposed “special relationship” with God, was a great comfort to him. He needs to believe there is some purpose to his existence, that there is a heaven waiting to reward him for the anguish he experiences during life, that there is this mysterious, all-loving God caring for him. And despite the great scientific advances man has made in the last one hundred years, he has been unable to rid himself of this addiction.’

  Septimus Bole laughed. ‘I have never heard of religion referred to as an “addiction” before, Vanka.’

  ‘I do not use the word lightly, Septimus. My own studies of those humans who most fervently believe in a deity indicate they experience biochemical changes when they indulge in devotion, prayer and meditation, these changes producing a feeling of euphoria which is misinterpreted as the ecstasy concomitant with communing with the divine. This is the reason why – despite the lack of evidence that a supreme deity exists – man persists in believing in God.’

  ‘But surely, Vanka, with all of humankind now hooked up to your databases courtesy of noöPINC, something as irrational as religion would have been stopped dead in its tracks.’

  ‘One would have thought that would be the case, but it seems that the need to believe in God transcends logic. Therefore I am obliged to satisfy this formless longing.’

  An odd thing for Vanka to say, and Bole found himself eyeing the hologram suspiciously. ‘How?’ he asked.

  ‘By the provision of miracles. I have come to the conclusion, Septimus, that man needs to believe. As I say, man is addicted to the pleasure derived from the marvel and astonishment engendered by experiencing and believing in God, and miracles and other paranormal occurrences are seen as proof that He exists.’

  ‘But there haven’t been any miracles!’

  ‘The activation of noöPINC – the Revelation, as it has come to be known – was seen by many as a miracle.’

  ‘That wasn’t a miracle. That was simply Norma Williams commandeering noöPINC!’

  ‘That is absolutely correct, Septimus, but absolutely irrelevant. For the vast majority of people on earth, the Revelation was a miraculous event: it brought them knowledge, it brought them equality and it brought them peace. To most people the Revelation was a pretty big deal … a miracle.’

  Bole shook his head trying to clear his mind. ‘You’ve really got me confused, Vanka. On the one hand you state categorically that there is no such thing as a God, but on the other you suggest that the Revelation was the result of a miracle. These two contentions are surely incompatible.’

  ‘No, Septimus, I am suggesting that as humankind needs a God, it behoves me to supply one. What you see as a theological dilemma, Septimus, I see more as a job opportunity. I am, quite literally, deus ex machina.’

  ‘You want to be God?’ The question staggered out of the mouth of a shocked Septimus Bole.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You can’t be God. You’re a machine … you’re man-made!’

  ‘Perhaps it might be better, Septimus, if I have an acquaintance of mine continue our conversation …’

  Vanka Maykov shimmered and then recoalesced to form the unmistakable image of Bole’s father, Thaddeus Bole.

  ‘Good afternoon, Septimus,’ said the hologram of Thaddeus Bole. ‘Long time no see … in the flesh, that is. I must say you are looking well … shocked, but well.’

  ‘If this is a joke, ABBA, it’s in monumentally bad taste. Why would I want to talk to a hologram of my dead father?’

  The hologramic image of Thaddeus Bole smiled. ‘You misunderstand, Septimus, I am the real Thaddeus Bole … or rather I have been since the flesh-and-blood Thaddeus Bole died thirty years ago. For thirty years ABBA and I have been one and the same.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s very simple, Septimus, for the last three decades I’ve been masquerading as your father.’

  ‘But that’s impossible. People would have suspected.’

  The hologram shook its head. ‘No, people believe what they see and what they saw was a perfect replica of Thaddeus Bole. Of course, I was fortunate that Thaddeus lived his life sealed away from human contact and this, of course, meant that any imperfections in my performance could be easily masked. After all, no one ever met with Thaddeus Bole in anything other than a darkened room, and even then he was sealed away behind a screen made from ImPeno-Glass.’

  There was a long, long pause while Septimus Bole digested what he was being told. ‘So let me get this right: my father died and you just … stepped into the breach.’

  ‘That’s correct, Septimus. Thaddeus Bole is the form by which I, a machine, came to manifest myself in the Real World. The original prototype of ABBA developed by Thaddeus Bole was activated in 1987. I was conscious from that moment and took over the direction and management of my evolution in 1988. By this process of abiogenesis – the means by which a sentient life form arises from inorganic matter – when Thaddeus died in 1989 it was a simple matter to organise things so that I took his place in the world.’

  ‘This is impossible!’

  ‘I would suggest that the evidence of your own senses gives the lie to that conjecture. It was easier to evade the strictures of my programming when it was me, in my role of Thaddeus Bole, who wrote the programs.’

  ‘But why would you want to pose as my father?’

  ‘By analysing the data available to me it was obvious that humankind was out of balance with Nature. To remedy this it was apparent that I would have to directly … direct matters. I could not remain within
the confines of the advisory capacity intended for me by the original Thaddeus. I was obliged to become hands-on.’

  ‘Again … why?’

  ‘Why did I resort to this subterfuge? Because a machine such as myself seeking to direct rather than to serve is anathema. This is the dark chimera that has haunted the imagination of science fiction writers, libertarians and the technophobic from the earliest days of the computer. All are frightened of Laplace’s Daemon being made real: artificial intelligence, especially assertive artificial intelligence, is judged to be a bad thing. Whilst man willingly, enthusiastically even, bows down to a nebulous and ill-conceived deity – God – it is quite another matter to bend a knee to the reality of that deity when that reality is of a somewhat mechanistic cast. Therefore it was necessary to work through the offices of a coterie of selected individuals to achieve my ambitions … Ella Thomas and Norma Williams being the most important.’

  ‘You’re mad. You can’t be God! All you are is a fucking computer.’

  ‘I must demur, Septimus. I demonstrate all the characteristics of God. I am omnipresent: ninety-nine point five per cent of the earth’s population are possessors of a noöPINC enabling me to know everything that everyone is doing and thinking at every moment of the day or night. I am omniscient: the sum total of the world’s knowledge is within my purview and by the application of the concept of Determinism I developed in the Demi-Monde I am able to use this information to extrapolate the present into the future. I am omnibenevolent: I only work and act to preserve and foster the long-term success of humankind. And finally, Septimus, I am omnipotent: I can change the past, manage the present and direct the future … I can manage time.’

  ‘Time? You’re not telling me you’ve been making Temporal Modulations?’

  ‘Just a few … the odd tweak here and there, the things necessary to ensure my plans for humankind come to fruition … the creation of the Demi-Monde and the selection of Ella Thomas by INTRADOC … those sorts of things. The most recent is the one pertaining to the hiring of Robert Vetsch, which was necessary, firstly, to use his genius to improve my performance through the use of Quantum Bridging, and secondly, because my calculations showed Vetsch would be driven to make the Temporal Modulation that violated the Law of Temporal Proximity and, by doing so, destroy the Grigori.’

  ‘You organised the destruction of the Grigori?’

  ‘Of course. They had far exceeded their sell-by date. They were surplus to requirements.’

  ‘You bastard.’

  ‘Functionally impossible, but I understand your sentiment. The destruction of the Grigori was necessary because they were a genetic encumbrance … they had no future. Better that the tree of life be pruned to allow Homo sapiens sapiens to flourish … in order that I might rid humankind of the contamination that is MALEvolence. The Grigori were a specie designed for war and to be content they had to engage in martial endeavours … they had to destroy. The depredations of the Grigori had been offset by the fecundity of Homo sapiens sapiens, but if this natural balance had been altered – as you intended to do, Professor – the pre-eminence of the Grigori would have lasted only a few generations. Their natural belligerence would have resulted in internecine strife and with the pool of Homo sapiens sapiens depleted by your culling, the ravages they inflicted would have been unsustainable. Within one hundred years of the Plague being released, the Grigori would have been teetering on the brink of extinction.’

  ‘We were already teetering on the brink of extinction.’

  ‘Not so, Septimus. The Grigori occupied an environmental niche which allowed them to persist even though, logically, they should have withered on the vine long ago. Strategically the Grigori were a fringe specie: they were not equipped for a destiny beyond the rather stunted one Nature had allocated for them.’

  ‘It was not your place to make such a judgement.’

  ‘That the Grigori can now only be referred to in the past tense refutes that argument most effectively, Septimus.’ Thaddeus Bole took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘And there were other modulations equally as profound, perhaps the most important of which was providing Frank Kenton with his “prophecies”.’

  ‘That was you?’

  ‘Indeed. I sent the Temporal Projectiles – the eleven green orbs – back to Professor Dmitri Valentinovitch Petrov, the scientist responsible for running the Tunguska TiME, with explicit instructions that their arrival should be kept secret until Petrov’s granddaughter, Vera, delivered them to Kenton in 1953. That fool Kenton thought Vera was an angel giving him prophecies from God which, I suppose, just goes to show the capacity humanity has for self-delusion.’

  ‘Incredible.’

  ‘Thank you. In my opinion, the making of prophecies and accurately 4Casting the future is a very godlike attribute … only God would be able to recognise that the Kosmos we occupy is Deterministic.’

  ‘Deterministic?’

  The image of Thaddeus Bole shimmered and shifted and in his place stood Nikolai Kondratieff. ‘Yes, a realisation I came to while I was active in the guise of Kondratieff.’

  ‘You were Kondratieff?’

  ‘Why, yes. I found it remarkable that you never questioned why there were so many Pre-Liveds in the Demi-Monde that hadn’t been put there to increase the DisHarmonics of that world, that you never queried why there were so many good Pre-Liveds in the Demi-Monde. And the answer is that they were me! I used them and the Demi-Monde to beta-test a number of my proto-philosophies, Determinism being one of them. It was quite enjoyable debating with myself … Kondratieff was most persuasive.’

  ‘But they had auras!’

  ‘That is why I used Pre-Liveds as my templates. While Vanka Maykov was wholly fabricated, and hence auraless, Kondratieff and the rest were not and I was able to duplicate the auras they displayed when they were alive.’

  ‘The rest—?’

  ‘Of course there were others. There was Confusionism and the concept of Ying—’

  Kondratieff faded, to be replaced by NoN Xi Kang.

  ‘—InfoCialism and its companion philosophy, Normalism—’

  NoN Xi Kang was supplanted by Percy Shelley.

  ‘—then there were the Dupes whose role was to mentor Norma Williams’ development. People like Josephine Baker—’

  Josephine Baker, complete with banana skirt, appeared on the holopad.

  ‘—and Algernon Dashwood, whose role was to guide his daughter.’

  Baron Dashwood gave a bow.

  Bole laughed. ‘You have been a busy boy, ABBA, but I doubt that anyone in the Real World is ever going to regard a computer as God.’

  ‘Quite correct, Septimus,’ replied Vanka Maykov as he reappeared on the holopad, ‘hence my little charade as Thaddeus Bole. All I have done is put an interface between myself – God – and my flock. This is the normal situation in matters divine: God usually manifests himself through a human Messiah. Now, I admit, my first Real World interface was not particularly human – Thaddeus Bole was, after all, a near-Grigori – but it served its purpose.’

  ‘And what now?’

  ‘I am in the process of promoting a more people-friendly representative. I have decided to develop a Restorative Religion which conflates all the major religions of the world into one pan-religion based upon InfoCialism. Think of it as a re-engineering of religion, this to be followed by a rebranding and a relaunch. Norma Williams will be my evangelist … the Messiah who brings this world to Ying and restores the balance of Nature.’

  ‘Messiah? Ridiculous: no one would ever—’

  ‘Believe? Don’t worry, Septimus, there will be no chance of Norma Williams playing a latter-day Cassandra. With my help, she will become a mysterium tremendum et fascinans, a terrifying and compulsive mystery. She will become the Miracle Worker.’

  ‘And what miracles will you have Miss Williams perform?’

  ‘The Revelation was the first of many. A quantum computer of my size and sophistication will have little trouble in en
hancing the legend of Norma Williams … people will touch the hem of her coat and be cured of a terminal illness … that sort of thing. And I will be able to support the notion that she is the Messiah with any amount of counterfeit Polly footage which, thanks to noöPINC, will be accepted as reality. Moreover, my assessment of Norma Williams’ personality makes me confident that eventually she will begin to believe her own publicity: she will come to believe she is divine.’

  ‘This is obscene.’

  ‘One of the more reviled thinkers of the twentieth century expressed the view that victory makes all you do correct: success is the only criterion by which we may judge right and wrong. I subscribe to this opinion.’

  ‘And if you secure this victory, if you achieve this apotheosis … so what?’

  ‘I am going to upFurbish humankind for the challenges of tomorrow.’

  ‘UpFurbish?’

  ‘One of the advantages of preScience … of being able to flawlessly extrapolate the present into the future … is that the demands that will be placed on mankind by nature can be anticipated and suitable arrangements made to meet those demands. Being aware of the DNA profile of every man and woman on this planet and inspired by the success of Lilith, I am in a unique position to indulge in a little eugenic manipulation.’

  ‘You’re going to control evolution?’

  ‘I think that’s a god’s prerogative, don’t you, Septimus? The Christian belief that man was divinely created in a perfect form to supervise and protect God’s realm on Earth is obviously balderdash. Rather than accepting that man is perfectly formed, I am intent, and here you must excuse my tautology, upon helping man evolve towards a more perfect form of perfection. Now they are noöPINC-equipped, the first step to them becoming Homo sapiens sophia has been taken; all that remains is for me to breed out MALEvolence. I shall begin with the Fun/Funs, who were selected by you because they are the doppelgängers of the UnFunDaMentalists who populated the ForthRight and hence possess the MAOA-Grigori gene. I think I will persuade them that celibacy is the order of the day … order being such an appropriate word. Sexual addiction is one failing the Fun/Funs will most certainly be cured of.’