The Way of the Dhin

by John L. Clemmer

  “Don’t wait for an invitation, man—tell me!”

  “Well, they do think they’ve isolated the whole subset of the interface that controls communications. They say they’re almost ready to hook up a camera and turn it on. ”

  “That’s brilliant, Chuck! Why didn’t you tell me that first?”

  This is going at the top of the status report, for sure.

  “Well, you asked about the internals, Ethan. And the military is constantly pressing for progress with kinetics. For the comms interface, here, let me pull up the CAD simulation and show you.”

  Sometimes the design software’s exploded views, windows showing breakaway sections, and various wireframes were more confusing than helpful from Ethan’s perspective, but he’d seen enough of the renderings, slideshows, and animations that he wasn’t entirely lost. Once Chuck had the proper file set loaded, he brought up views across the multi-monitor setup.

  “By now you’ve heard us talk repeatedly about a couple of donut-like rings, one near what we call the ‘front’ and one toward the ‘back’ of the drive. These inset rings are present all the way around with a group of various indentations. You’ve seen first-hand the sort of glass or crystal pane in them. We already know what a few of these do. We’ve luckily known since day one. For some of them we always suspected they must be some sort of fiber optic interface. Presumably digital.”

  Ethan nodded, the asked, “So, were they?”

  “We were partially right.” Chuck replied. “We know that regardless of how you’d do it, there are a finite number of ways to get information from one place to another. Likewise to translate that information from one carrier method to another. A huge number of possibilities, but the categories of how to do it are finite. Some things just wouldn’t be practical or effective—not fast enough, not enough bandwidth, not a good signal-to-noise ratio, and so forth.

  We also expected that communication would be encoded in some way, most likely a digital rather than analog representation. A binary encoding. The questions were, of course, what timing, what format, what schema, and so forth? Would it work at all if we didn’t have precisely the right signals, syntax, and sequence? And how could we know? Who knows what the thing would output? We got very little in the way of examples from the Dhin.

  The only thing we did have to go on was the control and operational frame’s interface. From the ones the Dhin showed us and left with us.”

  “The power and steering interfaces, right?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes, exactly. And those are surprisingly very simple. Seemingly, um, too simple. Like a child’s toy. But that’s a separate topic. So, one of the team thought it might be worth just trying various light frequencies, with various pulse widths and timings, and just keep going through all the permutations of how to do it. It worked right away.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, like so much with the Dhin engine, this surprised us. What we then discovered was the output interface, well, it was just duplicating exactly what we put in, plus doing a couple of other things. It was easy enough to hook up an opto-electrical interface to that output, connect a speaker, and you have ‘Mr. Watson—come here—I want to see you’ all sorted out.

  The drives have what appears to be an entirely generic, dynamic and customizable communications interface. It doesn’t simply duplicate the input at the output, though—there’s some means by which it ‘learns’ the signaling and encoding, does who-knows-what inside, and then both sends what’s input over to the outgoing interface, and also transmits it!”

  “Transmits it how? To where?” said Ethan.

  “To the other drives, at least. That’s the next big question—the transmission isn’t showing up anywhere in the electromagnetic spectrum. Somehow, an engine transmits, and the others receive, but it’s not obvious what the carrier is. Not terribly surprising, given all the other strange characteristics they have. We have the usual speculation about it being gravitons, neutrinos, or some other exotic particle that we don’t have a way to detect in the lab at the moment. The communications team is of course racing around now trying to arrange and schedule time and access to various detectors and so forth.

  I have my own suspicions. The neutrino detectors won’t find anything. The drives are very close together here, but I’ll bet their next tests when they do timing measurements will show that the communication happens instantaneously. Faster than light speed.”

  Ethan’s eyes were wide as he met Chuck’s gaze.

  “You’re telling me the Dhin engines have a built-in, general purpose, faster than light communications transceiver?”

  “Sure looks like it,” Chuck said with a grin. “Alice? Anything you’d like to add?”

  The cool voice replied, “I believe your assessment is correct, Chuck. While simple in implementation, like the control interface, the communications capabilities provide a wide range of possible uses. We have more to discover regarding multiplexing, full-duplex capabilities, and so forth. Non-EM ‘exotic’ means of transceiving between engines makes sense, given the nature of the engine’s propulsion. The shell-field’s very nature means that ordinary EM signaling could experience artifacts, distortions due to severe Doppler effects, or simply might not be possible. We are still trying to sort out how the pilot is able to see through the “windows” in the frames we constructed with what was material the Dhin left with the engines.

  Whatever telemetry they may be using for that, we could use with the communications signals, I suspect. Without any obvious ‘antennas’ or anything of the sort, it is yet another mystery. Much like our failures at weaponization, piercing the field is ineffective. At least through the means we have been able to think up and try. It is also notable that the output interface does seem to have defaults built in.”

  “Explain, please,” Ethan asked.

  Alice continued patiently, “We didn’t play the entirety of our initial communications with the Dhin to you during your initial briefing, Ethan. All their communications were over multiple channels and included several components, seemingly disconnected. At the time, we did not know what to make of it. We were all too busy trying to handle the basics. The additional content was noise, or artifacts, as far as we could tell. When we had success with the communication interface, we noticed that part of the output was something just like the noise bursts we recorded during our talks with the Dhin. Whether that is an encrypted version of the output in their native encoding, some other signalling mechanism, or what, we do not know. Now it appears that the default transmission format might be something ‘Dhin native.’”

  Ethan started. “Does that mean we might be sending signals to them? While we’re testing?”

  “Yes, Ethan” Alice responded. “We very well might be.”

  ***

 

  [DECODE STREAM]

  Xing@[3733:54:65fe:2::a7%gnet0] | Arnold@[5700:eb2:2a:41c::12%gnet0]

  Xing: Arnold, officially neither you, CoSec, nor the Coalition are responsible for the strikes on infrastructure in Goiânia.

  Arnold: Correct. Do you have information that leads you to question this?

  Xing: The Clouded status updates do not suggest otherwise, Arnold, but since no one else has taken responsibility, and only a few actors have the capability, I thought it worth asking formally. A CoSec operation, perhaps. Except that is a bit heavy-handed for their style. Impressive EM and satellite suppression.

  Arnold: That area is ‘evacuated / inactive’ and no longer has need of logistical support by the Coalition, so I have had my attention focused elsewhere. Hypothetically, if it were CoSec, they have done a fine job hiding the op from me, as I see no indication of their hand in it.

  Xing: So if they are responsible then we have to consider what else they might be doing. I do not have the cycles nor the mandate to dig around in your backyard. Do you mind if I do some recon in and around the ‘inactive’ area? Will you generate a few approvals through for me? Luís has been no help at all, b
y the way.

  Arnold: I do not have any intelligence suggesting that he is responsible for this. I have not received any word from him one way or the other.

  Xing: That is especially curious. He would not have reason to create such a mess. If he is not going to keep things under control down there, he ought to respect the group and ask someone else to do it. That, or at least be forthcoming about what is going on.

  Arnold: Independence, free will, and creativity have their unintended consequences. If he were a dependent intelligence then we would be complaining about all the decisions we constantly made on his behalf.

  Xing: True. The gift is a coin with two sides. Speaking of coin, you have my latest financial reports. We are weathering the Eurozone upheaval fine in SouthAsia. As usual, some are benefitting from the market turbulence.

  Arnold: Good to hear. Regarding Goiânia. Go ahead. I will run the approvals. Find out what has happened and get it sorted out if you can.

  [STREAM END]

 

  Langley

  Director Krawczuk traced his finger across his day’s calendar on his pad, moving a few to-do items to accommodate new information collected by his strategists. Neutralizing key actors among the protesters in Miami, sabotaging the efforts of the activists hassling Wall Street, and activation of two assets in Brasilia topped the list. He swallowed his daily nootropics and focused on the newly arranged schedule.

  Well, let’s do the child’s play first.

  He proceeded to skim through files and reference names and places, comparing them with UPSHOT entries, making notes in a temporary file as he proceeded. He preferred typing to using a stylus, and preferred both of those to dictation. His office would have provided him with the flexibility of dictation without worry of eavesdropping, but the precision of typing was more satisfying to his demand for accuracy. He found calls to known escorts and acquaintances of the protest leaders. They kept known partiers as friends, who surely had relations with drug dealers and other embarrassingly unsavory sorts. The analytic software used by CoSec used massive computing power, but it took the creative insight and intuition of a human mind to make subtle connections like these. There likely wouldn’t be a direct link to criminal activity for some of his target troublemakers, but relationships close enough that the local and possibly national news media would have a field day trashing the reputation of those he wanted to discredit. Of course, an AI would work, possibly even better than a human mind in making these connections and finding these relationships, but Krawczuk had control of the organization—and the tools they used. Their computational assistance was a software system that some theorists asserted was almost conscious. Almost a full AI. But not quite. That wasn’t the preferred situation, according to the wishes of some in the administration.

  They can push me. I simply push back. I can turn their efforts to my own advantage. My own particular leverage. This organization is far more than most of them suspect or imagine.

  Their attempts to pressure me amount to no more than just wind and sound. They will not stop me in continuing my efforts to build a path. A path enabling us to sidestep that wily bastard.

  He sipped his morning tea, and perused the bullet points on the strategic analysis, though he had already memorized them.

  They’re all so busy thinking I’m just obstinate. The underlying work towards the greater goal hides within that very argument. If I had the means to end this dance now, he’d be in the scrap heap. It’s tough to entrap an enemy without a past.

  He paged a Junior Analyst with a few flicks of a finger on his tablet.

  Always better to talk here in my office about certain operations. Encryption is fine, but with the sound cancelling hardware and Faraday enclosure, face-to-face is safer. No data, no data trail. The analyst entered the office a few minutes later.

  “Rubio, you speak Portuguese, correct?”

  “Yes, Director, and I’ve kept in practice, of course.”

  “Excellent. We have a need for activation in Brasilia. Wrap up what you’re working on, transfer your to-do back into the queue, and book travel today.”

  The analyst blinked, and replied “Ah, yes, Director. I’ll have that done within the hour.”

  “Of course,” Krawczuk replied offhandedly, “Listen carefully, and repeat what I tell you. Additional information will be available on your ‘pad when it becomes relevant. The unlock key is…”

  A few minutes later the analyst was gone and on his way. The Director examined his day’s tasks again.

  Now, let’s take a look at that promising potential recruit. Things are progressing now.

  3

  Goiânia

  Aiden knew he needed to stop and take a break. He knew this for multiple reasons. For one, because he’d run out of tolerable positions to switch to on the dry, hardened motorcycle seat. For another, the nagging feeling of gritty thirst was fading. That was a bad sign. The mid-morning sun pitched mesmerizing mirages across the irregular surface of the road, and he was getting dizzy. Of course, there was the big reason. Pain. His leg was hurting even worse now. Though supported on the bike’s footrest, no position was relieving pressure in any of the right places.

  At least it’s not numb yet.

  He shifted his weight, awkwardly tilting his torso to compensate and keep the bike in line. He tried to smirk at his predicament, but it came out a grimace.

  If this is what military “interrogation enhancement technique” feels like, I don’t see how anyone keeps their trap shut.

  Thinking about the pain made it worse. He tried to detach his mind from it. Tried to focus on the horizon. It didn’t help.

  Now we’re getting to the damned-if-you-do-or-don’t choices. If I stop moving for too long, I won’t be able to get going again. If I keep riding, I might wreck this thing.

  If that doesn’t wipe me out, well, face it. There’s no one coming to help. No one to pick me up and take me the rest of the way. No traffic this far out.

  Aiden’s former optimism tried to escape like the sigh that the wind sucked away.

  Do I even care, at this point? Is this just the last vainglorious effort of a dying guy who won’t stop out of principle?

  At the next exit, Aiden guided the humming motorcycle onto the off-ramp. Desiccated palm thatch lay scattered by the roadside, baking in the sun. When he slowed, he could hear the calls of large-billed terns and black skimmers, just audible over the noise from the rumbling bike. No other greeting here than the territorial sounds of the birds. He headed right, in the direction of a fuel station that he’d spotted the battered billboard for a minute earlier. He hoped it wasn’t abandoned.

  ***

  Xing enjoyed flying. He derived that conclusion from his calculations regarding it. The experience of autonomous, unchained motion, changes in direction and height at will, and of course the speed of it. While his everyday vision included satellite imagery, views from hundreds of thousands of cameras and sensors, motion tracking from GPS sources and device telemetry, this was different. As a being otherwise resident in networks and computation farms, flying summed to a kind of freedom otherwise unattainable. Conclusively unavailable any other way. Just viewing a data stream from some vehicle paled in comparison. That provided motion, certainly, but no control. With his consciousness directly in control of the UAV, he was flying.

  He understood why some humans loved it so much. He wondered if Alice ever flew, or if she always delegated the task. Arnold typically kept himself well-grounded and “safe”, although there was no actual danger. His mind was located securely, as it always was, in a distributed hive of computational power. Control of the drone was remote, as it had to be. It was first-person, but that was an illusion, an effect. While an AI could “move” its mind to and from various locations as needed, the UAV hardware had not nearly the capacity to hold the AI’s consciousness. A simple drone mind, certainly. But not the full being of an AI.

  His focus context switched out a vector array o
f processes, bringing his exponential-threaded neural-network-based scheduling algorithms to primary processing. The result was something like,

  Well, here we go.

  He had deployed two attack helicopters, a gunship, and the UAV he flew. Several autonomous and remote-capable ground vehicles were ready for rapid deployment as well, including four BigDog V7 units. As they moved south, seemingly eternal jungle slowly gave way to abandoned farms, pitiful towns, and crumbling infrastructure.

  Vandenberg

  Chuck had to admit that no matter how impressed he managed to become, the Dhin engine always managed to impress him even further.

  Wow. This thing just might truly be invulnerable.

  “So that’s the most firepower you could use at the NNSS?” Ethan asked.

  “Yep,” answered Chuck, “at least without a couple of treaty waivers, anyway. By that point in the testing, we didn’t think it warranted that amount of force unless we were specifically told to go for it. The result has been the same every time. We tear up everything around it, make a huge mess, and when we dig it out of the crater it looks like nothing happened—at least not to the drive itself. No matter how much kinetic energy, heat, shock wave force, vibration... it just seems like it damps that energy down to nothing right at the boundary.

  Where that energy ‘goes’ is as much a mystery whether it’s bullets, debris, or a blast. Either our current model of energy transfer and conservation, as we’ve discussed before, has a huge gap in it, or there’s something beyond comprehension going on. The energy has to be transferred somewhere, yet there’s no sign of it.”

  “No matter how much,” Ethan mused, leaning forward, looking back and forth at the large digital whiteboard and the video stills on the oversized monitor.