Doug shook his head at the accomplishment, while at the same time cursing the machine for dooming the people of his world to an eventual existence little better than extinction.
Something nagging at Doug finally rose to the surface, something obvious, as it should have been. For all its immense power, Doug thought, Mekhos seems to be unsophisticated. Why just take the Moon and offer only an Envoy as compensation? Is the machine’s programming or design flawed in some way that prevents it from seeing the value of a stable Earth as an ally, and a means for FLO and Earth to become something uniquely great together? That sort of ignorance seems unlikely. Which may mean that there was a conscious decision to ignore Earth’s fate. But why?
Though the public had become aware of FLO and knew it was somehow responsible for the Moon’s disappearance, they had not been informed of the grave fate that lay ahead for Earth. Some biologists and astrophysicists that were interviewed by the media insisted that there would be dire environmental consequences. The governments of the world downplayed their warnings, insisting life would adapt. They were buying time in an effort to avert panic, trying to keep a lid on fanatics and doomsday cults to avoid fueling the rise of despotic leaders that might use the crisis to seize power. It was probably a fundamentally useless effort because the Internet and every social network were seething with facts, lies, manipulations, fanaticism, conspiracies (some of which were real, for once), religious fanatics and every conceivable rumor.
The dispassionate actions of Mekhos infuriated the nations of Earth. But the cold, hard light of reality clearly showed that nothing on Earth could be done to right the situation. Still, high-ranking security and foreign policy experts from all the major world governments were holding regular meetings, asking questions and proposing unworkable solutions. Some of them simply wanted revenge, though with Earth’s technology being at least a generation behind that of FLO’s, there wasn’t much chance of success.
Doug had been in some of those meetings. He was amazed at some of the panicked proposals that ranged from building an arsenal of nuclear missiles capable of reaching FLO to the culling of Earth’s population so the elite of society would survive. Extreme suggestions demanded to be shouted down. Doug, along with the other sensible advisors, had succeeded in humiliating more than one extremist panel member into silence. Fortunately the majority agreed with Doug and were committed to reason and logic. Despite the support of rationality, they still weren’t getting very far.
Doug was taking the morning off. After weeks of working non-stop, the shock at seeing the alternate Cheryl McBride, and the revelation that she was the bearer of the news of the coming worldwide catastrophe, Doug had taken some time to recharge.
He got dressed quickly and went into the kitchen. He toasted a bagel, spread on more butter than was strictly healthy, peeled an orange and brewed some coffee. He ate quickly, then poured the last of his coffee into a travel mug. He left Janet a note explaining he would meet her at Andrews later and then drove the two hours to the cemetery where Cheryl McBride, the woman he had planned to spend the rest of his life with, was buried.
He needed to reassert that she was the individual he had been in love with, not the alternate Cheryl McBride. “Nobody can replace you,” he said out loud. “The damn copy that arrived on the ship is not the woman you were.” Doug was doing what was necessary to anchor and re-stabilize his own reality. Visiting the finality of a grave site snapped him back on track. I will not be confused about any of this again, Doug thought, as he stood next to Cheryl’s grave. There is far too much at stake for me to be sidetracked by emotional weakness.
He looked up in the direction of some noise nearby and saw a family visiting the cemetery, laying flowers for departed loved ones. There were three children with their parents. The older child stayed with the parents but the two younger ones ran among the headstones, playing hide and seek, oblivious to the situation, just as their parents were oblivious to the real danger posed by FLO. Then the ground trembled slightly under his feet. A faint aftershock. It was enough to stop the kids playing. They ran back to their parents and quieted down. As he watched them, Doug wondered about their future, about Janet’s future, and his own future. He walked quickly back to his car. He had to get back to work. To deal with FLO.
– 41 –
“Destroy Mekhos?” The Commandant shouted. “Mekhos is saving their planet from an environmental catastrophe! Why would anyone on FLO interfere with that, even if their privacy was being completely eroded? Why would they choose death instead? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Leach replied. “Mekhos is constantly evolving, growing more powerful every year. At first its global policies were designed to help humankind on FLO, but it is becoming ever more distant from its people. It implements policies without consultation. It punishes dissenting states severely. It has command of mass media and their internet, and it’s gaining control of power utilities and oil refineries and all sorts of other infrastructure.
“Mekhos is also taking control of hospitals, genetics labs and food production. Analysts on FLO have concluded that Mekhos will eventually oversee their evolutionary development. Many would say this is not necessarily a bad thing, since it may eradicate disease, but some speculate that Mekhos has already surreptitiously instituted sterility programs to reduce and manage the population.”
“Interesting if true,” the Commandant said flatly as he regained some composure and leaned back in his chair. “Sounds more like the internet rumor mill and conspiracy cults are just as foolish on FLO as they are here. It’s a straw man argument. It has nothing to do with why anyone would choose mass extinction over a regulated birth rate. We’re getting all sorts of information from the Envoy without any balancing information from other groups on FLO. That’s not what I call reliable intelligence. There must be some other game afoot.”
“I agree,” Leach replied. He was pressing his right hand into the small of his back to relieve the ache of stress. “We believe Bertrand and his associates on FLO haven’t been entirely truthful with us about their ultimate goal. They want our help to attack the quantum supercomputer, but we believe once that is accomplished they will continue the theft of the Moon, while gaining control over a disabled Mekhos.”
“So we will have helped them get rid of their autocratic machine while we are left in the same situation, without our Moon. I’m assuming you are about to tell us that some of the response scenarios we discussed earlier are now in play.”
“That is correct. But some of you have been pushing for answers while withholding key personnel and resisting cooperation with your counterparts in other nations. Covert Operations has been involved from the beginning but can only do so much, given the scope of what is required. We need all resources at our disposal. Now that you are aware, we trust your respective branches will stop putting up roadblocks. The President expects your cooperation, and as always, your discretion.”
Leach stared directly into the eyes of each man and woman at the table, locking his stare on each one in turn for a few moments. No one moved or spoke. There were no other options.
An aide who’d been standing off to the side stepped forward and placed a cooperation and confidentiality document and pen in front of each Joint Chief. They all signed without hesitation.
– 42 –
Alfred Chan was afraid. He had been through several interview sessions with the interrogation experts. Each session had been respectful, polite even. He had not seen his fellow Envoy members since they were separated, when the Mekhos plan was revealed. But then one day when he was being escorted to breakfast he saw his colleague Peter Morris being wheeled into a room. Barely conscious, Peter’s left eye was bruised and swollen shut. Chan looked to his agent, hoping for an explanation. The agent did not react as he expected.
“There’s a new chef in the kitchen starting today,” he said. “They say the new menu will be much better.”
After breakfast his han
dlers were their usual respectful but firm selves.
“As we’ve discussed, you will probably not see your home again. But we want you to be as comfortable and secure as possible. We will do our best for you and your colleagues. You’ll continue your research, working for the US government. You will be assigned your own apartment on the base. Eventually you will be given escorted day passes to various nearby cities to shopping and take in the sights, or even the occasional game of golf, if you wish. All we ask is that you apply yourself to the best of your ability to your new mission.”
“Thank you,” Alfred replied as politely as he could manage. “You have been more than kind. What is this new mission you speak of?”
“It involves a new project for which your special skills will be required.”
“I still don’t understand. Would you be more specific?”
The man nodded towards an agent. “He’ll show you where you’ll be working from now on.”
Chan suspected that his handlers were treating him well because they thought he could provide them with something they wanted. Peter Morris had been assigned to keep the Envoy crew healthy for their seven-week journey to this Earth. But now that they were here his skills weren’t required. It seemed obvious that Morris might be regarded as expendable, at least in the minds of their captors. Although FLO’s medical knowledge had progressed beyond that of Earth, Morris was a Navy GP, not a specialist that could provide anything of much use.
Given the current circumstances, Chan thought, Earth wasn’t very interested in medical progress anyway. The people of this Earth are behind us culturally. Look at the way they treated Morris. What if they want me to betray my own people? What will they do to me when I refuse? Do they not understand that my Raim hears everything they’re saying?
Chan was escorted to an area he had not been to before, into a large computer lab. Arthur Leach and Dr. Brian Nayar, a computer engineer whom Chan had met briefly after giving a presentation on Mekhos a few weeks earlier, were waiting for Chan. Leach smiled and shook his hand.
“Hello Dr. Chan, welcome to your new job. I’m sure you remember Dr. Nayar.”
Chan nodded to Nayar.
“Dr. Chan, the presentation you gave on your world’s quantum computer breakthroughs was inspiring. We had only just begun to turn our own research in the area to very simple prototypes, but we were thrilled to understand how far you have gotten in the field. As far as we can see, Mekhos is the ultimate supercomputer.”
“I appreciate your interest Dr. Nayar,” Chan said as he turned his attention back to Leach.
“Just what is my new job?”
“You are going to work with Dr. Nayar. My government is putting an enormous amount of resources at your disposal. You and Dr. Nayar will collaborate to build a quantum supercomputer. You will create for us our own version of Mekhos.”
“Do you know what this is, Mr. Leach,” Chan said, as he held up his left wrist, the Raim clearly visible.
“Yes,” Leach replied tiredly. “We all do, Dr. Chan. But your isolation here on Earth also means that Mekhos can’t reach out to you either. So, a Mekhos of our own is what we need. You will help us build it.”
– 43 –
Norman Stravinsky hovered the tip of his index finger above the rook. He thought for a moment. He was four moves away from winning the game. He was a master chess player, but he rarely won against his opponent. Stravinsky was sure Mekhos let him win those very few times. The ultimate example of the protégé surpassing the teacher.
Stravinsky moved his finger at a square. The virtual rook moved to the spot he had indicated.
“Excellent move,” the voice of Mekhos articulated in the large, nearly featureless chamber. It sounded at once authoritative and comforting, the pronunciation impeccable. Stravinsky had supervised the creation of Mekhos’ voice characteristics but the supercomputer had added its own tonality, removing the flat quality that one associates with voice synthesis.
Mekhos did not respond to Stravinsky’s move right away. “I appreciate these pauses. I realize you don’t need more than a nanosecond to calculate all possible scenarios.”
“It is part of the game,” Mekhos replied. “All good chess players need time to formulate a response, including you, Norman.”
Stravinsky stared at the pieces, the holographic rendering flawless, the board even showing simulated wear marks.
“I read that the visitors will be arriving soon. They find themselves in quite a predicament, don’t they?”
Mekhos did not answer. The King moved behind its Bishop.
“Have you exhausted all possibilities with regard to their plight?”
“Yes. Their situation cannot change.”
“Pity, that. I wonder how long they will be in turmoil, once the effect starts.”
“Equilibrium will be reached in thirty years.”
“And then?”
“Life will be comfortable for the remaining population of 500 million. Resources will be available for our use.”
“Of course,” Stravinsky said, as he moved the Rook once again. “But logically it makes sense to develop a relationship with these people.”
“They are reacting in the predicted way. They may appreciate your presence while they are here, Norman.”
“I would be delighted to engage with our guests.”
Mekhos made the final move. “Checkmate.”
– 44 –
On his way back to the Pentagon Doug dialed Leach using his secure phone.
“How are things going with Chan,” asked Doug. “Is he cooperating?”
“Alfred is slowly opening up to us, but he’s still tentative. I believe he thinks helping us to develop a thinking quantum computer similar to Mekhos would be treasonous, but he’s also pragmatic. He can see that we are in a desperate situation and we expect him to come around. The problem is, nobody else here has any advanced knowledge in his field.”
“It might help Chan if he were able to bounce ideas off of someone that thinks like he does. Another scientist in addition to Nayar, even if they don’t share the exact same background.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?”
“The clear choice, if he exists,” Doug said, “is Alfred Chan’s counterpart here on Earth. If he’s alive and if he’s in the computer science field, we should bring him on board.”
Leach was speechless.
“Haven’t you checked this out already?” Doug asked.
“No,” Leach said, almost sounding angry, “and I don’t know why we didn’t think of that sooner. I suppose we’ve been preoccupied with the bigger picture, planning a dual mission to FLO. Thank you, Doug, I’ll have someone look into it immediately.”
– 45 –
An hour later at 1300 Doug arrived at the Pentagon to chair a presentation for high ranking military commanders and civilian science experts assembled from the US, Russia, the UK, France, Germany, Japan, China and Brazil.
Every major power resented the fact that the Envoy had made direct contact with the US only, and had made no further attempt to contact any other nation directly. They also resented the fact that there was no evidence that the US had in any way tried to prevent the Envoy from making contact with other nations, although they did accuse the US of not sharing enough information. Germany and France were making the loudest noises even though they couldn’t ignore the fact that none of the US scientists who’d gotten in on the ground floor had held anything back from their colleagues in countries all over the world, including Germany and France. Everybody was attempting to get in on everything they could. Arthur Leach was at the back of the room, reading and responding to emails on his laptop. Dr. Miekela Persaud was the first speaker.
“Machine psychology. Up to fifteen days ago it was considered theoretical. Now it is fact.” Dr. Persaud was standing at a lectern addressing the science experts. The audience also consisted of the Secretary of State, the Secretary of Defense, a computer engineer from MIT, a psychologist on the Wh
ite House staff, a representative from the Psychiatric Institute of Washington, and several Joint Chiefs. There were at least thirty other representatives from various countries packing the meeting room. Doug stood off to the side as Dr. Persaud continued.
“Mekhos. We are dealing with an intelligent machine entity, something utterly alien. Despite being created by our human counterparts on FLO, the Mekhos thought processes are completely different from ours. It does not experience feelings or emotions. Its motivations will be difficult to understand from our perspective. But clearly it has purpose. It has goals, and self-interest.”
“Yes, we understand that it is an advanced, thinking computer,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs interjected. “But how can it have self-interest if it lacks emotion? Human self-interest, I gather, comes primarily out of love for our families, our country, and a desire for survival and to live a comfortable life. Those are powerful motivating factors that no computer can have.”
“Correct,” Miekela replied, as the lights flickered for a moment. A tremor had probably tripped a breaker or rattled a power line loose somewhere. Somewhere close by an uninterruptible power supply started beeping.
“However, the motivations Mekhos demonstrates seem to come out of the desire to accumulate knowledge, Mr. Chairman. Dr. Alfred Chan of the Envoy believes that Mekhos looks upon itself as an ever-growing library of information. It values knowledge and problem-solving above all else, and has a programmed imperative to preserve that knowledge. So in a sense, it has an instinct for self-preservation.”
Dr. Jack Wilson entered the room through a door directly behind the row of chairs at which the Joint Chiefs were sitting and made his way over to Doug, who tapped his watch while giving Wilson a sideways glance. Wilson shrugged his shoulders. Some colleagues regarded Jack Wilson as a loose cannon, prone to emotional outbursts when dealing with people who didn’t understand his work. Doug had quickly realized Wilson was brilliant, and his outspoken nature was sometimes an asset, as long as someone was there to rein him in if things got too heated.
Dark Nights Page 13
