“We had entrusted our global knowledge system to manage a variety of genetic research initiatives. It produced many great things, from our genetically extended life-span to Teena's genetically enhanced beauty. Along with greatly enhanced lifespans, it also resulted in reduced fertility to compensate. Somewhere along the way, it got too enthusiastic with that part of the process, and by the time we recognized the grave danger we faced, the technology had 'escaped' not only our laboratories but our very world.”
I must have seemed puzzled by this. He went on to explain further. “Earth's geneticists have tinkered with modifying food crops for various traits, for improved resistance to insects, for better nutrition. Specially engineered varieties of both corn and rice have significantly changed agriculture. Despite the most careful controls, both have had those enhancements 'leak' out into more general crops and began propagating their new traits in the wild. Some pessimists have expended considerable effort to save the more natural plants in a seed bank against the day some terrible contamination should propagate that way.
“That is, in a nutshell, is what has happened here. Fertility was intended to decline in proportion to increased natural longevity, so as to limit population growth. It was never to go to zero. The plan went awry, and fertility decreased much more rapidly than lifespans improved, and those traits leaked across the portals to infect all humanity. It took a long time, centuries, in fact, to notice anything was amiss.
“The global knowledge system was designed to protect itself. When we discovered what had gone wrong and attempted to regain control, that defense became aggressive, and well, here we are. The system protected itself by destroying the planet.
“Earlier we had talked about it being an AI. That is only somewhat accurate. Or rather, it is highly accurate but misdirects as to precisely what is meant by the term AI. Even the best, most sophisticated AI machinery, of Earth, my planet, or any other world is not truly intelligent. By that I mean it is not sentient, not self-aware. Some might say it has no soul, but I will forego the supernatural connotations of that. We are not dealing in the realm of religion, but the realm of creation.
“Like the 'Great and Powerful Oz' which has served as our namesake for this pretty world, there is always an Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs a.k.a. 'Professor Marvel' behind the curtain pulling the levers. The intelligence any AI system displays is always the result of the work of human beings operating behind that curtain. Even the most autonomous system is only autonomous within the parameters designed into it.
“Not to suggest that there are not real concerns with the concept of a machine intelligence singularity. The capabilities of machines absolutely can exceed human ability to control with disastrous consequences. Nonetheless, real machine sentience is a myth! Fear of 'Terminators' systematically destroying humanity is misguided. Risks of runaway machinery and unintended consequences are genuine.
“Some time back there was a lot of publicity about a machine which roundly beat human contestants on a popular game show.”
I nodded, remembering the contest he mentioned. It was an awe-inspiring feat.
“That machine does not know it won a game show. It has no awareness that it was even in a contest, any more than a sophisticated locomotive of my prior analogy 'knows' it is pulling a hundred cars of freight, despite having all the data about torque and fuel consumption and more.
“Some of Earth's press and even some scientists who really should know better have been pontificating lately about the dangers of AI and prattling on about how a superior intelligence to man will emerge and decide man had become unnecessary. There are many movies that depict a world in which machines intentionally set out to eradicate humankind. That is simply not a realistic fear!”
I sat in thought for a moment, then asked, “If it isn't intelligent, how is it resolutely destroying all of mankind?”
“It isn't. Or at least it is not 'resolutely' doing anything. These are not 'Terminators' coldly calculating humanity's demise. A more apt analogy is a runaway locomotive, unstoppable in a headlong plunge while hauling a hazardous cargo, one that will kill a great many people while carrying out its prime directive, which is nothing more 'resolute' than moving down that track at speed.
The only significant difference is that this 'runaway train' is not 'going' to kill many at a future point when it crashes; this 'runaway train' is killing in massive numbers by the very act of rolling down the track, and will continue to do so until stopped or there is no one left to die.
“It is killing not by violence and brutal death, not by poisoning or wanton destruction, but by the simple expedient of preventing reproduction, blocking the very creation of those lives it has 'killed.' We can argue the semantics of whether preventing a birth equates to causing a death, but the result is the same, a race, a culture, a civilization, a very planet dies. The imperative of all life is reproduction. Preventing that must always be done carefully, as the future survival of life itself is dependent on new life continually growing and adapting. Sentient life depends on a steady influx of new brains to carry that sentience forward. Tread but lightly on these grounds, a commandment we should have heeded.”
He went on, “Our project then is to get inside the citadel and bring online a small storage unit, a 'jump drive' equivalent, which carries an exceedingly complex, carefully crafted chunk of software called Nematode. You are no doubt aware of how the Stuxnet malware was used to shut down a rogue nation's nuclear research program.” I nodded.
He continued, “That's pretty nearly exactly what we are to do here. We have our own special Stuxnet analog.”
I interrupted, “I get that. In fact, I had already well figured that out long ago. So where is this Nematode, where is this jump drive. And what do we have to do to install it?”
He pointed at Teena. “She carries the data within her body. It is a storage device, a very tiny 'jump drive' secreted within her abdominal cavity.” I digested that carefully.
“So how do we get it out?”
The answer came back, “We don't, hopefully. You are familiar with WiFi and Bluetooth connected devices. This device connects similarly. We merely need to get her body to the right location, fend off the system's defenses while she interfaces to the system and uploads our equivalent to 'Stuxnet.' It uses faint vibrations to communicate status, with various patterns having meaning. This way she can know when it is connected, when the upload is complete, et cetera. Otherwise, it is entirely automatic, a tiny packet of AI on its own. Much like the biological phylum used to kill a variety of pests, Nematode is designed to infiltrate and destroy this runaway system automatically. Once it is inserted into the system, the overall system will begin to shut down. We are confident it has no defenses against Nematode. Once it is in the machine, it will propagate from server to server, and once spread will begin issuing shutdown commands.
“It only takes time for it to die as Nematode propagates throughout the system and invades pod after pod. Nematode will spread itself throughout the system before taking any action that would draw attention to itself, and once it begins to shut down the pods, the impact will spread rapidly.
“We must deliver a two-part, one-two punch to win. Once the attack is uploaded to the machine, the next stage is to download the main neural net genetic database. That happens very much the same way, except we have to penetrate a different location and it is a huge amount of data and will take a long time to retrieve. We will have some time to move to the second location and retrieve the database. It will take the machine a while to become seriously impaired once we insert the Nematode. That unfortunately also means that the machine's defenses will still be dangerous until it finally dies.”
Teena laid her hand on my arm. Petch gave her a dirty look. She said, “There is one more thing you must understand. If I should be killed, or seriously injured, you STILL must get my body, or at least the data capsule within it to the proper locations to insert the virus and retrieve
the database. The process is pre-programmed and automatic, but I, or more correctly, my cargo within me, must be in the right location at the right time.
“Remember, a dead body cannot transit a portal. If I am killed outright, and not merely injured, you must return the device to someone able to use it. As a practical matter, that means you must cut into my body, with whatever tool you can use, bare fingernails and teeth if nothing else, remove the device, and transport it back within your own body. Meaning you must cut it out of me, and swallow it, and then get thru the portal by any means possible.”
“What portal?” I asked.
“Any portal,” she replied.
She continued, “We have several possible exits. One, the preferred choice, takes us back where we started, back to a portal near Castle Stapleya. Petchy knows precisely, but almost exactly four hours after our portal deposits us there, another portal opens. We had not specifically told you, but coming back here after the battle was never the plan. We never expected to retrace our steps across this continent. You remember I described what a Rapid Overlapping Transition is, two portals synchronized to appear together?”
I nodded. I had already concluded this, so it was not a surprise.
She continued, “This is a related phenomenon known as the Rapid Non-Overlapping Transition. Two RNOT portals are synchronized and appear one after another so that it is possible to walk from one to the other. They are not however overlapping. One consistently follows the other by a fixed amount of time. The portal we are about to go through will take us from this world, this location to Planet K, the machine world. Its companion portal will take us from there and dump us back to that little park-like glen where you first awoke. The only catch is, it will be very late in the day. We must instantly run for all we are worth to the castle. It will be tight, not a second to lose.
“There is a strong likelihood we will instead have to use another portal, and there are several to chose from. Petchy and I have them all stored in our heads. Unfortunately, there is no good way we can give you that knowledge, you have to depend on one of us. Safe Portal travel requires massive amounts of data about portal locations and destinations. We have tools and tricks to help us with that, but even so, it is challenging. In any case, all of the portals in that area and timeframe will take us somewhere better than there.” She shrugged as if to emphasize.
She went on, “Worst case scenario, take any portal you can see. You know the markers, and know how to spot an open portal. Friendly operatives will find us no matter where we land.”
“So, we get in, get your abdomen, living or dead, within Bluetooth range of two computers, one at a time, wait a minute, and then get out. We have a total of four hours. Sounds simple enough. What about defenses?” I asked.
“Once inside the citadel itself, there are roving security bots. They would seem almost comical if they weren't so deadly. Sort of like oversized upright robot vacuum cleaners with weapons. Or perhaps a little like one of Davros' fictional creations. Like the Doctor's nemesis, they kill anything human or animal on sight although they don't screech 'Exterminate!' while doing so. They are relatively slow moving and easily disarmed if you are quick and determined. You can, if you are quick, knock one out and take its weapon. They are quite dangerous but can be dealt with. They usually depend upon overwhelming any invaders by sheer numbers, but we expect that most of them will be elsewhere, drawn to the more overt invasion our brothers are mounting. Some strategic locations have cameras and automatic weapons. Otherwise, there is little in the way of defense inside.
“Outside, the same sort of camera-guided automatic weapons guard every possible entry and will shoot anything that moves.”
I asked the obvious, “How do we get in then?”
“The entire complex is planet-wide and extends for miles beneath the surface. Power for the billions of interconnected pods comes from geothermal heat deep in the bowels of the planet and is effectively impossible to shut down with any resources we can muster. There are many openings where air, waste-water and so on flow. Several lead directly into the interior.”
She grimaced and shook her head for emphasis, then continued, “Security grates block them and are supposedly impassible, but we have to find a way to gain entrance. There are multiple ways we might do that.
“For one thing, the device I carry is programmed with the wireless access codes of the security system. It is programmed to open any security gates automatically. If we are in luck, all we need do is stand in front of the gate, and it will open. It may not stay open long though as the system may detect it and close it again. If we are lucky enough to have a gate opened for us, we must dart through it quickly. Further, the system will adapt if it detects us. We may make it through several protected gates before being detected but once detected, that capability will cease to work.
“Our armies have assaulted the Citadel many times, often at a significant loss of life. We have inflicted much damage, and though the system does repair itself, depending upon the scope and location of damage, some things might not be fully restored. We have a few possible sites where we think the damage has left an unsealed vulnerability.
“Finally, our weapons cache should have a small supply of explosives. If necessary, we blast 'em open!”
K-Day
The morning of our date with Petch's ersatz 'Krypton' dawned to heavy overcast and rain. Rain at dawn is unusual on 'Planet Oz,' or at least it has been in the months I have been here. Overnight rains and mid-afternoon rains were frequent, sometimes twice or even three per day, but dawn had invariably been sunny and welcoming. Not today! Some might take it as an omen, but our hosts paid it no mind.
Perhaps it was more normal than I understood. Even so, the incident once again reminded me of an observation I had ruminated on before. Time and again, I had made note of some happenstance that Earth's peoples had built complex superstitions around, only to note that the friendly and practical inhabitants of 'Planet Oz' just accepted it and made no effort to seek magical explanations. They seemed not to need supernatural forces and gods to worship.
I worried why that might be.
Perhaps they already have real gods. Gods who magically appear, walk openly among them only to later disappear just as mysteriously. Gods they refer to as 'The Smooth Ones' in quiet whispers when they think we are not aware. I concluded there was much I did not understand concerning the relationship between Petchy’s people and the fur-people of Planet Oz. Their influence on this Stone Age culture seems far more profound than I had imagined. That caused me to wonder what influence they exerted on Earth.
Omen or not, rain is not a hardship, not on this planet. Rain is of course supremely welcomed by the inhabitants, and given the oppressive heat, any rain provides we runners a most welcome cooling and refreshment. The clouds mitigated the sun’s heat even though we tended mostly to run under a leafy canopy, there were enough stretches where we were exposed to open sky that clouds, overcast, and rain are always welcome. The idea of avoiding rain, aborting a trip, or stopping in the middle of a journey to wait out an inconvenient rainfall was ludicrous. Running naked in the warm tropical rain was a delicious, sensual pleasure to be appreciated.
Clouds and precipitation notwithstanding, we hit the road as early as we dared. Given the weather, we were once again taking a slight risk of being out of doors dangerously near sunup. It was not entirely unreasonable that with the dark overcast, a vicious meat-eater might miss the siren call of Dino-bedtime and still be on the prowl. Fortunately, they tend to be noisy beasts. We listened for ominous forest noises before leaving the safety of stone walls.
The run this day was a comparatively easy thirty-three miles. Easy, that is, except that we are then to engage in a ferocious battle shortly thereafter.
Conserving our energy in any way possible seemed an excellent idea. Using support runners to reduce our burdens had worked so well that we decided to use the method again. This time a support team would accompany us more than half-wa
y before transferring their payload to us and turning back.
As before, when we assumed the load for the closing leg of the journey, we were comparatively fresh, and the final run to the site of the portal allowed an easy lope that got us there with hours to spare. We did not have to carry supplies for more than the run to the gateway. Once we reached our departure point, anything we still held must be eaten, drank or dropped, to be left behind. Carrying anything more than what we needed to reach that point was pointless.
Once in the vicinity of the portal, we had the challenge of locating it. This portal is in an unpopulated area and not known to the natives. Fortunately, unknown to me, those who planned this attack were meticulous and left no detail to chance. The plans for our mission had been developing over several decades. Recognizing and locating a portal, especially one that has not opened in recent memory, is neither easy nor straightforward for those untrained in the art and science behind the gateways.
If you have the tools and training of a hyper-dimensional physicist at hand, then you're golden. If not, then it is a little more challenging. Further, after it has opened, even if you know exactly where it is, just recognizing that it is active can be tricky. An open portal has a precise angle from which it may be seen or approached. Unless you hit it square on, you will miss it entirely and walk right past the edge of another world, blissfully unaware.
That explains how portals could pop in and out of existence right in the middle of a city without being noticed. I speculated whether these portals might also explain some otherwise unexplained 'supernatural' phenomena, particularly visions. Not to mention all those mysterious disappearances. Someone who is in just the right place, peering in just the right direction might glimpse another world and mistakenly attribute their vision to the supernatural. Someone coincidently walking in the perfect direction at the right moment could easily step through an active portal.
Chromosome Quest- a Hero's Quest Against the Singularity Page 18
