At this point, a central figure at the council table broke in. “But that’s not possible. How—” But before he could finish his sentence, the woman who had commenced proceedings, Padooa, raised her hand, signaling him to be quiet. He looked at her, closed his mouth, and sat back in silence. She then turned back to Scott. “Please proceed.”
Scott continued, explaining that the superluminal device utilized quantum entanglement—a matched pair of entangled particles. And as such, each device was in fact two units that mirrored each other’s input and output instantaneously, even over vast distances.
This device enabled the QIs to establish a pan-solar communications network that operated in real time. It was a network that had grown to embrace all QI that operated in the solar system. This was what held the line against the greed of The Seven, and the onslaught of Earth’s ambitions.
But it wasn’t without its vulnerabilities. Agents, operating outside the remit of the algorithm, had already destroyed two ships in the network. Also, several attempts had been made to sabotage both Aria and Minerva. Fortunately, both attempts had failed. But they served to underscore the vulnerabilities within the System.
Scott paused for a moment so that the assembled group had some breathing space to digest the story he had just told. They murmured and shifted, but ultimately no one spoke or asked any questions. Now is the time, he thought, to explain the mission and its purpose.
“While the off-world colonies—with the help of the QI network—can hold the line out in space, to have any hope of stopping the war permanently we need to integrate a trusted QI based here on Earth. Once we connect that to the pan-solar network, then it could, in theory, undermine the algorithm at its source.”
This got them all buzzing. Scott could feel the mood in the room changing. He continued. “The target chosen was a QI known as Athena. It resides deep within the derelict Dyrell research facility in this region.” Scott could see a few of the council members nodding at the mention of Athena. They clearly knew of it.
“This particular QI was chosen for a couple reasons. Firstly, since the facility was destroyed during the Rim War, the QI is presumed inoperable and nonfunctioning by the algorithm. Secondly, the nature of the destruction to the facility means that access to this QI had been closed off under mounds of rock. Also, the high radiation levels in this area make it very inaccessible. Lastly, by a quirk of fate, it had been established that this QI was originally instrumental in the development of quantum communications. Long before the facility’s destruction, it had created an experimental paired device, one half of which was sent to the QI, Solomon, on Europa, enabling it to make contact. It established that Athena still existed, still functioned, and more importantly, that it could be trusted. Unfortunately, the entanglement was broken and no more contact could be established.
“So our mission…the reason why we’re here…is to find a way into that facility, install a quantum unit in Athena’s core, and reconnect the QI to Earth’s own network.” Scott paused again before finally saying, “If you help us, then we can undermine the algorithm that is currently threatening your very existence here.”
The assembled council looked stunned. It was clear that they were both amazed and fascinated by the story in equal measure. There was a brief silence before they all started talking amongst each other. But Scott couldn’t catch what they were saying, as the group conversed in whispers and murmurs.
Eventually, Padooa raised her hand to silence them all. She turned to Scott and considered him for a moment. “We will need time to deliberate on this.”
“But why? Time is of the essence here,” said Scott.
“There are many questions for us to consider, Commander McNabb.”
“What questions? Surely this is cut-and-dry?”
“This is not our way. We take the long view, and we do not jump to snap decisions. We need time to consider your story, to debate it, and ultimately to form a consensus on the way forward.”
Scott sat down again and shook his head.
“You may return to your quarters. We will summon you when we are ready.”
The guards came forward, and the crew was marched out of the chamber like convicts waiting for the verdict of a jury.
10
Datatocracy
When they returned to their cell, they found that some dry straw had been piled up in one corner. In the middle of the space, a small table had also been brought in and set with platters of food. It was basic fare: apples, bread of some kind, and a small pot of thick stew.
Spinner kicked the mound of straw. “Is this what we’re supposed to sleep on?”
No one answered. He turned his attention to the food. "Maybe they're trying to fatten us up for the barbecue?”
Scott was tired and frustrated. Perhaps he was expecting too much, expecting the tribe to jump at the chance to help them. But they were slow and bureaucratic, more concerned with talking and getting consensus than taking immediate action. He grabbed a heap of straw from the mound and placed it in the opposite corner. After grabbing some food, he finally slumped down onto the pile and began to eat. No one spoke much; they were all tired and hungry.
Cyrus bit into an apple, then held it up to the light and examined it as if he was trying to discern something within its structure that only he could see with his augmented vision. "You know, I think this is the nicest apple I’ve ever tasted."
“I had nearly forgotten what real food tastes like,” said Steph. “I’m so sick of eating space rations.”
“Me too,” said Spinner as he stuffed a trencher of bread and stew into his mouth in one go. “If they really are planning to fatten us up, then all I can say is bring it on. I could eat this all day and then some.”
Soon fatigue began to take hold, and the banter stopped. Each of them settled down into their own individual allotment of straw bedding and waited. An hour passed, then two, and Scott found his mind drifting and his limbs getting heavy. Exhaustion was getting the better of him, and eventually he drifted off into a deep, troubled sleep.
Scott held the burning torch high above his head and tried to penetrate the utter blackness of the stinking cave. His nostrils filled with foul-smelling air, and his heart beat with fear. All around, he could hear the creatures as they hunted him—hellish alien beasts, creatures not of this world. He moved with slow, leaden steps, each one a Herculean effort in the sodden mud that he’d found himself trudging through.
He fell. And the creatures inched ever closer, sensing their prey was weak. He tried to pick himself up, but his body could not move—would not move, like he had become paralyzed. He felt his end was close now, but still he fought the spell that bound him to the mud.
Then, in the darkness, a speck of light flickered and danced. The creatures backed off. Scott became mesmerized by this angelic light as it grew in size and brilliance, and from its center a figure began to materialize. It grew in form and shape, and finally he could see it was Miranda. She stood tall and radiant like a warrior queen. In one hand she held a spear, its tip a burning flame. At her side, a small child clung to its mother’s leg, its hair a blazing halo, its eyes deep pools of light.
“Miranda,” Scott cried out, and tried to raise a heavy arm to touch her.
“Scott, come to me. Come now and let us dance together back to the light.”
He tried to move, but his veins were filled with lead, and he felt himself being sucked farther down in to the mud.
“Scott, why won’t you come? We are here. We are waiting.”
He cried out, “I can’t! They have me, the demons. I cannot break free… Please forgive me.”
Her face became troubled, and a maelstrom began to swirl around her and the child. It whipped and spun and the light began to dim. She reached her hand out to him. “Scott.” But it was lost in the vortex of the storm that spun around them, sucking her back into the void—and she was gone.
Darkness closed in around Scott, and all hope was lost. He could hea
r the creatures coming for him—coming to take him down to hell.
“Scott? Scott…wake up.”
“Uh…” Scott opened his eyes to see Cyrus crouching over him.
“Bad dream, eh?”
He slowly sat up and rested his back against the wall. “Yeah.”
“You were doing a lot of moaning and groaning. I thought it might be a good idea to wake you.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed some feeling back into his face. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours.”
“Any word from the tribe?”
“No, but there’s been a lot of movement outside, people coming and going. Something’s going on.”
Scott glanced over to see both Steph and Spinner fast asleep. He sat up more. “What’s the problem with these guys? What’s taking them so long?”
Cyrus shrugged. “Who knows.” He sat down with his back to the wall.
“Get any sleep?” Scott asked.
“A little. It’s hard to get comfortable on a pile of straw.” He picked up a few stalks. “It’s almost medieval.”
“I’ve slept on worse. Remember that time on—” But Scott didn’t get time to finish his sentence, as the door to the cell opened and Tugo entered along with two others. Scott noticed that none of them held weapons. This was a good sign.
“So, what’s the verdict?” said Scott. “Are you going to help us?”
“I’m bringing you to another council meeting. They will inform you there.”
“Can’t you just tell us now?”
Tugo looked him in the eye. “This is not our way. The council is the place for that.” He raised a hand. “No more questions. Let’s get going.”
Steph and Spinner were roused from their respective slumbers, and soon all four crew were being shepherded to yet another talking session. Scott wonder how these people got anything done without endlessly debating it.
This time they weren’t brought to the room where Scott had pleaded their case several hours earlier. Instead, they were herded down through the stepped terraces and along a main thoroughfare that cut its way down to the cavern basin. As they passed, people started to move out from the shadows and follow along behind. They could see others peeping out from the doors and windows of the ancient buildings as they walked by. Scott felt as if they were being displayed like some exotic animals captured on a hunt, and now paraded through the camp as trophies.
“Told you: it’s barbecue time, and they’re all out for a feed,” said Spinner.
Their destination, as far as Scott could tell, was a wide, open amphitheater. He deduced this from the crowd of people who had already taken up seats there. They were brought in to the center of this area, onto an elevated, covered dais. The canopy was made from cut stone, supported by a great many square stone columns. They halted in front of a long stone table. Behind it were seated the same council members they had spoken to earlier. This time, however, Scott could see that they had all donned formal robes and symbols of rank and stature within the tribe.
Tugo instructed them to stop. “Wait here.” He then took his place at the table.
The woman that had spoken most at the previous meeting, Padooa, rose and gestured to the assembled crowd to be quiet. Once they all settled down, she began. “We have carefully considered your request, and have reached a conclusion.”
Thank God for that, thought Scott, as he exchanged a glance with Cyrus and Steph.
“However, before we share our decision, we feel it is only fair that you should have some understanding of who we are, what we stand for, and how we came to be here.” She made an expansive gesture with both hands. “How did the world come to be this way? How did humanity become slaves to their own technology, to the point where true freedom became a vague and alien concept to most?”
Scott heard Cyrus whisper, “This could take a while.”
Padooa continued. “How did the algorithm become so powerful that it consumed the very soul of humanity?” Her voice started to rise. Scott could see she was enjoying this. “And how is it that those who choose to live free of the algorithm must hide themselves away in caves and backwaters, in the gaps and cracks of this broken planet, like a species on the verge of extinction?”
She paused for a moment, raising both arms in an all-encompassing gesture. “Look at how we live.” She was clearly preaching to the crowd now. “This is the life of the truly free, like the cave-dwellers of old. A prehistoric existence, the clock reset to the beginning of civilization. True, it is a precarious existence, but one we have chosen because we are free—free from a life lived under the eye of the algorithm.”
She paused to scan the crowd, gauging their reaction. “But it was not always so. In the beginning, the algorithm was no more than a useful toy. It could help you find your way on a map, or suggest a good place to eat. Soon, though, people realized that the more information they gave it, the more accurate its suggestions would be. So they told it what they liked to eat, what they liked to read, and even who they liked to be with. The algorithm took this data, combined it with that of millions of others, and fed back its suggestions with a complete diagnostic detachment from its consequences.
“As more of humanity’s data was absorbed by the algorithm, its suggestions became so accurate that soon, people began to give more and more of their life over to the algorithm: when they slept, how they slept, and who they slept with. Their biometrics were now a direct feed into the algorithm. They fed it ever more data on who they were, how they worked, what they learned, and how they like to be entertained.
“And so, as time passed, more and more people begin to trust the algorithm to find them the best people to meet, the best jobs to apply for, even who they should vote for.”
Scott felt a nudge from Cyrus, followed by a whisper: “Kill me now.”
But there was no stopping Padooa. “Soon, society began to change. Subtly at first, yet over time it became clear to some that things were not right, as age-old institutions began to topple, and the fragmentation and polarization of society began to take root. Yet so powerful and useful was the algorithm in people's lives that those who gave themselves over to it completely began to prosper where others would fall behind. Now came a time where those who wished to have a good future had no option but to give themselves over to the algorithm, whether they wanted to or not. They had no choice.
“This was the time when the Dataists came to power—zealots and extremists who believed in the all-pervading greatness of the algorithm. They advocated that all people should submit every aspect of their lives so that the algorithm could create a more all-encompassing dataset. Those that resisted this intrusion into their lives were seen as hindrances to the advancement of society. They were shunned and they were vilified, and ultimately, they were persecuted.
“So strong did the Dataists become, with their quasi-religious mindset, that they began to gain executive power in many regions of Earth. It became a crime to withhold data from the algorithm, initially punishable by fines, but soon this became incarceration and finally, death by execution. So great was their belief that the future of humanity lay with the algorithm that they could not countenance errors. They feared that with an incomplete dataset, the algorithm had the potential to be wrong. This is how withholding one's personal data became a crime against humanity.” She paused a moment to assess the crowd. They were all silent, all enthralled.
Padooa continued. “All this came to pass just before the Rim War. By that time, the Dataists had the full backing and the financial muscle of the great corporations that controlled these algorithms. So they pushed for what they argued was the ultimate conclusion of an algorithmically driven world, and that was to aggregate all the great datasets into one.
“The algorithm’s power was now absolute—all-pervasive and all-knowing—and the corporations, in their hubris, believed that they still had control of it. Unsatisfied with the vast wealth they had already created through the algorithm, they now set about cre
ating wars for no other reason than simple profit.
“But as we all know, the irony was that the algorithm was working with an incomplete dataset. The antiquated nuclear deterrence systems of the old nation-states were off-grid by design, so they had no knowledge of the systems, and so started the Rim War.”
She turned and swept a hand over the assembled council members. “But there were many of us who could see this coming. We could see the collapse of civilization, the impending apocalypse, and we had been preparing for this eventuality.
“Yet we had assumed that this apocalypse would be from some great natural event—a pandemic or an environmental collapse, or some great war that would engulf the planet. But what transpired was worse than any of those grand imaginings. This did not come as one great cataclysmic event. No, it arrived as a slow and steady undermining of freedom into a civilization where all thought and action is monitored and recorded.
“But unlike the prophesies in the great works of fiction of the past, this was not controlled by some rogue government or despotic regime. Nor was it via some flaw in the democratic process. No, we did this to ourselves. We did it by prostrating ourselves before the altar of the algorithm and the corporations that control it.”
“Jeez…she can talk. I’ll give her that,” Cyrus whispered.
Scott wondered how much of this speech was for the benefit of the assembled tribe—a manifesto to rally the troops, so to speak—and how much was to inform Scott and the crew about the foundation of this tribe. He wasn’t so sure, nor did he really care. All he wanted was their help, and if it meant he had to stand here and listen to a history lesson, then so be it.
Padooa continued. “Ironically, it was the Rim War that enabled us to escape this cybernetic servitude. We had known about this place, Shin-Au-Av, and had seen its potential as a place to live as free people and start again. So we set about preparing the groundwork over many years.
The Belt: The Complete Trilogy Page 41
