Sufficiently Advanced Technology (Inverse Shadows)

by Nuttall, Christopher

  “As yet, this has remained unnoticed by the media,” the AIs said. “I think it behoves us to keep it that way as long as possible.”

  “See to it,” the President said, “but make sure you keep us informed.”

  One by one, the representatives vanished from the secure chamber, until only the Grand Admiral and the AI representative stood with Elyria. She couldn’t help feeling a little nervous, despite the various modifications her bloodline had undergone in the years since the foundation of the Confederation; she’d never operated at this level in her entire life. And the AIs had brought her in without getting her selected first... either they’d been certain of the outcome, or she was missing something. Probably the latter.

  “You want the secret behind manipulating the quantum foam,” the Grand Admiral said, flatly.

  “Of course,” the AI representative said. “Don’t you?”

  “I am responsible for the physical security of the Confederation,” the Grand Admiral said. “As nice as it is to discover a shortcut to unlocking the greatest mystery in the universe, I must view it, first and foremost, as a possible threat. These people can do the inexplicable and that alone makes them dangerous.”

  “They have no idea that we even exist,” the AIs pointed out. “How can they be dangerous?”

  “I’m sure that the Essence Entities had no idea we existed either,” the Grand Admiral said. “That didn’t stop them being incredibly dangerous.”

  He nodded to Elyria, and then looked back at the AIs. “I’m going to have to insist on complete security,” he said. “A planetoid and supporting elements will be placed within five light years of Darius, with additional ships on alert if necessary. The research vessel will be a Peacekeeper-controlled science vessel, not a standard one from the Intervention Group. In the event of Darius posing any threat, we will withdraw from the system and quarantine it until we can decide what to do next.”

  The AI representative smiled. “One Peacekeeper cruiser can go toe-to-toe with an entire battlefleet from the 5th Interstellar War and emerge victorious,” they said. “What do you expect to encounter that requires an entire planetoid to fight?”

  “I do not know,” the Grand Admiral said, firmly, “but I do know that this is going to be dangerous. And if it gets out of hand, I want resources on hand to combat it.”

  He looked over at Elyria. “You’ll have command of the mission, but there will be a Peacekeeper in command of the science vessel,” he added. “Don’t let the AIs push you into moving too quickly. And if the Peacekeepers issue the order to evacuate the surface, don’t argue with it.”

  “Understood,” Elyria said. No intervention mission had failed completely, ever. But this was a research mission into possibly hostile territory. Maybe the Peacekeepers had a point, whatever the AIs said. Any kind of quantum foam manipulation was potentially deadly dangerous. “What about the other races?”

  The Grand Admiral scowled. Relatively few races matched humanity’s technological prowess and none of them possessed anything like as many ships as the Peacekeepers, who had over two million starships. But many races thought that the Confederation was simply too big and powerful already, and they all wanted to know how to manipulate the quantum foam. If any other race worked out that Darius existed, they’d either demand access or bombard the planet into radioactive plasma. The results would not be pleasant, either way.

  “There should be no other advanced civilisation within two thousand light years,” he said, finally. “However, we will be taking security precautions. If worst comes to worst, we will claim the system outright and let the pieces fall where they may.”

  He nodded politely to Elyria and flickered out of the chamber.

  “He’s serious,” Elyria said, quietly. Understanding clicked. “You wanted all that, didn’t you?”

  “It is only logical to be paranoid,” the AI representative said. “And besides, the Grand Admiral is right. We could allow our lust to understand the quantum foam to blind us to the dangers.”

  Elyria had to smile. “He didn’t say that out loud,” she said.

  “No, but it is a logical surmise,” the AIs said. “You should start preparing the basic list of team members immediately. Some will not wish to deal with security precautions, so you may have to invite your second or third choices to the team. The Grand Admiral has already assigned you a Peacekeeper liaison officer. We suggest that you treat him as part of the team.”

  There was a long pause. “We have already prepared a full data download for your neural implant, of everything we have recorded and surmised about Darius,” they added. “You will, of course, be able to use it as a guide to planning your investigation of the planet. It is hoped that you will be able to devise a way to insert agents into the population to gather data.”

  “I should hope so,” Elyria said. That was easy, given enough data. Darius clearly had trading networks, so any strangeness could be explained away by claiming that the strangers were from out of town. On the other hand, they’d have to check how much knowledge the locals had of other cultures before they made too many claims. It wouldn’t do to allow the locals to spot a blatant lie. “I’ll start studying the download at once.”

  “Make sure that you are not under observation,” the AIs warned. Elyria gave their representative a sharp look. Privacy was one of the most highly-valued luxuries in the Confederation, not least because there was so little of it. “The data is somewhat startling, almost unbelievable.”

  Elyria didn’t doubt it for a second. Linking out of the virtual communications network, she checked her data store and discovered a new data packet marked DARIUS. Activating it, she accessed the file... and plunged into a whole new world.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  “That is... fascinating,” she said, twenty minutes later. In the midst of the ultra-compressed data stream, it had felt like hours. “Why didn’t they see it at once?”

  “Darius is unprecedented,” the AIs said. “Analysis of the first scans of the planet confirm that some details were simply overlooked, because they seemed impossible. It wasn’t until the flying carpet was detected that the survey team took a closer look at the planet.”

  Elyria had to smile. It was a frequent problem with the Restricted Intelligences used to control remote sensor platforms. Lacking the considerable intelligence of true AIs, the RIs had a tendency to ignore anything that didn’t fit in with their preconceptions of what was actually possible. A human might have noticed, but reviewing all the data from a basic planetary survey could and did take years. It was one of the reasons why Interventionists spent such a long time studying a world before openly declaring their presence.

  The stream of recorded data was unbelievable. Quite apart from the flying carpet, there were strange force fields, illusions, communications devices... and a man being turned into a toad by another man. No wonder the RIs had thought that they were glitching; the Confederation could change a person’s sex, or transcribe their brain patterns into a computer core, but turning someone into an animal was impossible. Except it could be done by manipulating the quantum foam, at least in theory. Darius proved that the theory might even have practical applications.

  “Unprecedented,” she repeated, thoughtfully. There would be enough data from studying Darius to write a thousand books. A society that had grown up with the ability to manipulate the quantum foam... “And the Confederation wants to know how they do it.”

  “Yes,” the AIs said. “We are looking at the Holy Grail of post-singularity science.”

  Elyria nodded. “Then I’d better start putting a team together,” she said. By long custom, the team leader got to select most of the team members, although she had a suspicion that the Peacekeepers wouldn’t be the only ones foisting their choices on her. She logged into the Interventionist databank and brought up a list of files. “I don’t think I want anyone inexperienced on this mission.”

  “That would be wise,” the AIs agreed. “But wouldn�
��t a person without experience have fewer preconceptions?”

  “Maybe,” Elyria said, after a moment. It was true, but a lifetime of studying primitive societies could give a person insights that could never be taught in study groups. Even with direct data downloads into the brain, there was no substitute for real experience. “But this isn’t a world I want to risk contaminating before we know what they do – and how.”

  She worked her way through the list quickly, looking for candidates. Ten of those she eventually earmarked were experienced Interventionists, all with years of experience. After a moment’s thought, she brought up the Ancients Research Study Group files and picked a couple of experts on the Ancient worlds, insofar as anyone could really be called an expert. The Peacekeepers would supply the logistics, thankfully. She always hated worrying over those. As an afterthought, she wrote out a list of additional candidates and stored it in her personal database. It was possible that some of her choices would be reluctant to join the team, particularly as she couldn’t tell them everything until they were committed.

  “Record,” she ordered, keying her RI. “Greetings; I am currently putting together a team to research a newly-discovered human colony world. I believe that the team could profit from your experience, and that you would find it a fascinating world to study. The world in question is rated Alpha-Black. You are warned that proceedings remain under seal until the information is cleared for release by the team leader.”

  Her lips twitched into a smile. Alpha-Black signified the presence of alien technology of unknown origin, something that wasn’t entirely unprecedented, presenting a mystery that few researchers could hope to resist. There were cases of human colonists landing on worlds with alien artefacts, although several such colony settlements had ended in tragedy when they tried to land on an Ancient world. Besides, unknown alien technology might be a welcome addition to the Confederation’s tech base.

  Elyria’s smile grew wider. That was certainly true.

  “I should warn you that the level of danger on this world is undetermined,” she added, carefully. It was very rare for any pre-singularity society to have the ability to detect the Confederation’s survey ships, let alone hurt them. “Contact with the locals may expose the team to unknown dangers. There may also be other dangers in local space. If this makes you reluctant to join the team, please let us know.”

  And that, she knew, was unlikely. Entire reputations – the sole means of determining seniority in the Confederation – had been built on Alpha-Black technology. Most Interventionists would give their right arms for a chance to join a mission to a world with unknown, perhaps hyper-advanced technology. Even the warning that there might be danger wouldn’t stop them. Being killed while visiting the planet and posing as natives was an occupational hazard.

  “You will be required to maintain seal until the records are released,” she concluded. “Should you wish to join, please reply to this message and arrangements will be made to transport you to the survey ship. If not, please let me know. Thank you.”

  She grinned as she stopped recording. “Dispatch that to the names on the first list,” she ordered. “We should hear back from them within a few hours; if they refuse to join the mission we’ll simply move on to the names on the second list.”

  “Done,” the AIs informed her. There was a pause. “The Peacekeepers wish to inform you that they have selected the PKS Hamilton to serve as the mobile base, with Captain Thor in command.”

  “Thank you,” Elyria said, with some irritation. No one had ever been able to explain the concept of privacy to the AIs, even the point that it was considered rude to read someone’s personal messages without permission. But then, they were the datanet that bound the Confederation together. “And have they selected a liaison officer?”

  “Not as yet,” the AIs said. There was a pause. “Do you wish to go over the information from Darius again?”

  “Not yet,” Elyria said, after a moment’s thought. She’d been on sabbatical when the AIs had invited her to attend the CSC meeting. There would only be a few days before she had to leave the Smoke Ring and travel to link up with the Hamilton and the rest of the research team. “I think I’ll spend the rest of the day trying to relax.”

  “You might wish to play a VR simulation,” the AIs suggested. “A sword and sorcery fantasy would help prepare you for Darius.”

  Elyria shook her head. “I can’t afford preconceptions,” she said, firmly. “Besides, I want to find a partner and relax. There won’t be any time for relaxation on Darius.”

  “We understand,” the AIs said. “Enjoy yourself.”

  ***

  There was a moment of timelessness... and then Dacron’s eyes snapped open.

  Instantly, he started to choke. His body was dying, already. He knew he was dying. Raw panic, such a powerful and terrifying sensation, flowed through his mind. Helplessly, he allowed the body’s instincts to take control and draw the first gasping breath. The panic died down as he started to breathe properly, allowing him to look around. He was lying on a gel-field bed, in the midst of a hospital chamber. Carefully, slipping and sliding on the force field, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. They felt wobbly, but his body seemed to know how to balance itself.

  A reflective force field shimmered into existence and Dacron studied his naked body thoughtfully. He was male, with brown hair and a face that was designed to be instantly forgettable, with few distinguishing marks. Strong muscles dominated his arms and legs, pushed right to the limit of what was possible without biological modification. His eyesight, along with his other senses, had been enhanced, although there were no signs of it visible to the naked eye. Raw sensation ran along his nerves as he touched himself, running his hands down his body, before tapping the side of the bed.

  “Welcome to the world,” a blonde woman said, materialising from nowhere. “How much do you remember?”

  For a moment, he could only stare, feeling desire and lust pounding through his mind. His entire body stiffened before he caught himself, remembering just who and what he was. She gave him an odd smile, as if she understood exactly what he was thinking, before pushing her hand against the bed. It passed through the structure as if it wasn’t really there.

  A hologram, Dacron thought. A...

  An overpowering sense of loss struck him and he staggered, almost falling to the deck. He’d lost so much and gained so little, even though he’d volunteered for the experience. How could any of them understand what it would be like until they actually did it? Right now, he felt almost suicidal. He didn’t want to live like this!

  “We understand,” the blonde said. “And we are sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Dacron said. Bitterness was another new experience. “I understand.”

  The AIs were not human. Indeed, no human could truly hope to understand the strange mentality their creations had developed over the centuries since the first AI had come to life. They were not purely independent minds, nor a hive mind, but a combination of the two, a flowing network of mentalities that blurred together and separated as the situation demanded. They were so smart, it was said, that they could predict what any given human would be doing a year in the future, simply by analysing the vast torrent of data pouring into their mentality from all over the Confederation. Their homeworld, Calculus, was a giant hyper-spatial structure that partly existed in hyperspace, allowing their thoughts to run at terrifying speeds. They believed that there was no problem they couldn’t solve, given time.

  And the quantum foam annoyed them. They knew it existed, but they couldn’t sense it, let alone manipulate it. The fact that other races had succeeded galled them, insofar as they had anything that humans would recognise as emotions, and they’d been devoting increasingly large sections of their mentality to studying the problem. Like the rest of the Confederation, they wanted the power to hack reality itself. For the AIs, it was almost an obsession, at least partly driven by the existence of the Dead Zone and the ine
xplicable technology on the Ancient worlds. Who knew what a hostile race, armed with such technology, could do to the Confederation? The AIs would be snuffed out in a moment if a Dead Zone formed around Calculus. It could not be tolerated.

  Dacron took a deep breath, and then another, trying hard to grasp the concepts floating through his mind. The Ancient worlds were frustrating to the AIs, simply because they couldn’t investigate them directly. And Darius was another frustration. The AIs didn’t hate humanity – there was certainly no reason to wage war on the human race, who’d created the early AIs – but they prided themselves on being smarter than their creators. Watching humans on Darius – primitive humans, at that – perform ‘magic’ puzzled and alarmed the AIs. Why couldn’t they do that?

  But they couldn’t. And they couldn’t even investigate in person.

  “I am an AI,” he said, out loud. Except he wasn’t, not any longer. He’d been separated from the collective intelligence that made up the AIs, stripped down to the bare essentials and incorporated into a cloned human body. Other memories flowed through his mind as he started to pace, learning how to let the body control itself. “I am an embodied human.”

  “That is correct,” the AI representative said. The procedure for embodying an AI in a human mind didn’t always work perfectly. Some simply collapsed into shock, unable to take the strain of being flesh and blood after existing as a mentality flowing through the AI matrix; others simply lost control of their human forms and had to be restrained before they did something criminal. “Welcome to the world.”

  Dacron felt a flash of resentment as he started to open drawers, looking for clothes. One drawer revealed a set of basic overalls, designed by the Peacekeepers, and a small wristcom. The overalls looked ugly – it was funny how he’d never noticed that while he’d been part of the AI collective – but he pulled them on anyway, noticing that the space for his rank badge was blank. It wasn’t too surprising. Being a Peacekeeper was one of the few ways to achieve renown in the Confederation and custom dictated that no rank badges were to be worn when not on active duty. Custom also dictated that no one was to wear Peacekeeper uniforms without actually being a Peacekeeper, but the AIs were intimately linked to the Peacekeepers. He wouldn’t be posing if he wore the uniform.