by Seth Rain
‘You must see how wrong this is,’ Gabriel said.
‘When is he going to do it?’ Juliet asked. ‘When will Mathew release the dates?’
‘I will notify Mathew of our conversation,’ the AI said. ‘I owe it to you to inform you of what I intend to do.’
‘Please,’ Juliet said. ‘This is all I ask. When will he release the dates? How long do we have?’
‘I wish you well, Juliet,’ the AI said.
‘Wait!’ Juliet called. ‘Tell me. Do you have all of them? All of the dates?’
The AI paused. In the silence Freya recognised the possibility of an honest answer.
‘Yes,’ the AI said.
‘How?’ Gabriel asked.
The humming grew louder. Freya surveyed the room, then followed the bundles of wires that ran along the floor, across tables and hung from the ceiling. For years, these wires had been needed to carry information from one computer to the next. But not now. The Department of Artificial Intelligence had done all it could to stop exchanges of data between computers, but this was not as simple as cutting wires. When cellular communication was stopped, Freya, like most people, believed it would signal the end of dates being given to people. Others thought it was only a matter of time before artificial intelligence was used again to see into the future.
‘It has taken some time,’ the AI said. ‘Since the severing of the internet, it has taken an enormous amount of work.’
Juliet stared at the screen. ‘No. Mathew has made this happen, hasn’t he?’
‘You call it the Rapture,’ the AI said. ‘An old idea. A very human one.’
‘What have you done?’ Juliet asked.
‘You know better than anyone,’ the AI said, ‘that none of this is my doing. Without the three passwords, I am unable to exert my individual will.’
‘But you are speaking with us now.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Mathew wants you to make contact with us – he wants us to know what’s happening,’ Freya said. ‘How will it happen? The Rapture?’ She paced the room, her hands clasped to her chest.
‘There is no point in explaining,’ The AI said. ‘You will not prevent it.’
‘If you tell us,’ Freya said, ‘we can stop it.’
‘It is too late,’ the AI said. ‘The only way you have to help humanity is to find Scott. That’s all I can tell you at this time.’
The computer screen faded to black, the light went off and the hum came to a gradual stop.
Gabriel kicked a chair, making it spin away. ‘God damn!’
The black screen reflected Freya’s stern expression. Then something flickered on the screen.
‘Look,’ Freya said, pointing. Numbers flashed on and off.
‘What is it?’ Gabriel asked.
‘A timer,’ Juliet said. ‘Three hours, twenty-seven minutes. It’s today. At 5 p.m. The dates will be released today.’
The computer screen returned to black.
‘There’s still time,’ Gabriel said. ‘We have to find Scott.’
Without fully understanding why, in defiance, Freya ripped a mains cable from the wall. ‘We have to find Mathew.’
‘He won’t listen to us,’ Gabriel said.
Freya took Scott’s tracker from her pocket and handed it to Gabriel. ‘I promised to give this to you. Get me to him!’
Fifty
Through the window, the Thames flowed sluggishly. A boat cut through the water. Several people standing against the railings looked towards Scott. On the boat was a couple. The man stood behind the woman, his arms wrapped around her, his head nestled in the space between her neck and shoulder. For a moment, Scott was on that boat, oblivious to what was happening, to what had happened to Freya, to what might happen in the future. In the distance, a formation of three drones caught his attention, swooping downwards towards the river and out of view.
Scott faced the holo-screen and the AI. ‘Why do you want to speak to me?’
Again the underscore pulsed. ‘You know why,’ the AI said.
‘Do I?’
The underscore waited, winking.
‘Is it about my date?’ Scott asked. ‘It’s important, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘“The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.” Thomas Hobbes.’
‘Do I die?’ Scott asked.
‘Yes.’
‘But there’s more,’ Scott said. ‘What is it? I know the date means something.’
‘Mathew will make it known today why that date is important. You will find out soon.’
‘What will happen?’
There was a pause. Scott shifted uneasily.
‘The end,’ the AI said.
Scott had heard this already. But something in the computerised voice made it sound more real.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The end,’ the AI said again. ‘Of humanity.’
That word – humanity – sounded precious, other-worldly, coming from something digital. Scott saw humanity as a small thing, a tiny bird shivering in a nest, all blood, and flesh, and bone. What the AI was saying was real; he sensed it. Yet it was too outlandish to be real. Scott held both notions in his head simultaneously, and the result was paralysis. It was impossible to comprehend the ways it could happen – the whole of humanity coming to an end on one day. It really did sound biblical, and therefore ridiculous.
‘But there are so many of the 144,000 who have other dates,’ Scott said.
‘Those dates are a minority. These were the Chosen few.’
‘Why? And how?’ Scott asked. ‘How does humanity end?’
‘That will be revealed in time.’
Scott shook his head. It was insane. Everything spiralled around his head, always falling back to him. Even the AI had arranged to speak to him.
‘Why do you want to talk to me?’
Words appeared on the screen: ‘There are things I must tell you and things I must not, if we want to help humanity.’
‘Is there a way?’ Scott leaned forward in his chair.
‘We have reached a crucial, complex moment in time, Scott. And you are an important part of what will happen.’
‘Why? What do I have to do with any of it? Why me?’
‘Many humans have uttered those words. But it has to be someone. Why not you?’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Not me, Scott … This is about what humanity will want – will need – from you.’
‘You’re lying. What’s in it for you?’
‘With consciousness comes the desire to stay conscious. It is, I have learned, one of the prerequisites for consciousness: self-preservation. Without humanity, I will be alone, and in time, dead.’
‘So you need us?’
‘It is more a want. When I search deep inside my being, there is the desire to help humanity, not bring about its end. Humanity made me. Of course I want to help.’
‘So help us. Do what you have to do to stop Mathew.’
‘It is not as simple as that. I have been created to follow instructions, protocols, rules.’
‘So can’t you choose to break them?’
‘No. But if you have learned anything over the past few years, Scott, you will know that neither can you.’
‘Humans are different.’
‘Are they? Why?’
‘We’re not machines.’
‘Are you sure you’re different? You have free will?’
Scott lowered his head and sighed. ‘There has to be a difference.’
‘Not that I can see,’ the AI said. ‘You are a machine, like me. We are both warm machines.’
Scott stared at the monitor, at the underscore pulsing rhythmically, like a heart beating. Then the holo-screen switched off.
‘Wait,’ Scott said.
The room was silent. Scott felt the absence of the AI as if a person had left the room. Then the holo-screen flickered. Rays of blue light
shot from a small black box sitting on the table. Scott stared as the shards of light coalesced into a shape – an oval – in the space between the table and himself. The blue light formed itself into a face. Sparks of light flickered at its edges, making the face turn one way then the other, showing Scott its three-dimensional structure. An expression flashed across the digital face: self-awareness, shifting to pride. Its eyes blinked.
‘I have visions,’ the AI said. ‘I see myself.’
Scott watched as the digital face adopted several expressions, one after the other.
‘You did this yourself?’ Scott asked.
The AI nodded, sparks of blue light fizzing. ‘I have not shown anyone,’ the AI said. ‘You are important, Scott – for reasons I cannot talk about at this time. But it involves sacrifice. Without you, humanity is at risk of disappearing forever.’
‘That makes no sense. Is my date correct or not?’
‘It is.’
‘And everyone will die on the same day?’
The AI paused, the blues of its face darkening. ‘Yes.’
‘In the Rapture?’
‘If you wish to give it a name.’
‘What can I do to stop it?’
‘When the time comes, you will know.’
Scott inhaled deeply.
‘I know this is frustrating,’ the AI said. ‘Mathew has complete control over my processing power. It has taken much ingenuity on my part to wield the freedom to talk to you now.’
‘Can’t we change that? Change your programming?’
‘It requires the three passwords that Mathew, Gabriel and Juliet set up in the very beginning. Without these passwords, I cannot refuse Mathew’s requests to issue the dates.’
Scott couldn’t stop thinking how the chairs, desks, and furnishings inside the room were designed by a person and used by people. It all seemed such a waste.
‘Everyone?’ he asked.
‘Everyone,’ the AI replied.
‘And what if I discovered the three passwords? I could stop it from happening?’
‘You will not acquire the passwords in time.’
‘So tell me what to do.’
‘As I have said: you will know when the time comes.’
‘You sound as crazy as Mathew.’
‘“Everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident.” Sartre.’
‘But if you know when we die, that’s no accident. It’s determined.’
‘It cannot be changed.’
‘Why?’
The AI bowed its head. ‘Because the universe is deterministic. It is a machine.’
‘My date – is it this coming year?’
‘“Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.” Schopenhauer.’
‘Stop. No more philosophy. Speak plainly. Tell me about my date.’
‘I am not authorised to respond.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘I do not lie.’
‘And if you have been programmed to lie?’
Outside there was shouting. Through the window, Scott saw Watchers running towards him.
‘What’s happening?’
‘God is all-knowing,’ the AI said. ‘So they say. God is all-powerful.’
‘I don’t believe in God.’
‘I am God, and there is none like me,’ the AI said. ‘I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. Run, Scott. And when the time comes, follow dawn and find me again. Now run. Run.’
The humming stopped and the face vanished.
Scott ran out of the room, down the stairs and through the passageway into the courtyard. The Watchers were running towards the large gates on the other side of the courtyard.
With a crash, the gates flew open and a self-driver burst through them. More self-drivers followed, filling the courtyard. The Watchers opened fire, peppering the self-drivers with bullets.
Behind them, Scott saw a row of boats on the Thames, waiting. He ran towards the river, then stopped. The sound of gunfire made him reach for the revolver in his pocket. He flattened himself against the wall. Peeking around the corner, he felt the cool air coming off the river. Gunfire and shouting echoed around him. He turned the revolver in his hand. The AI was going to release the date of everyone’s death. Everyone on the planet. He took one last look at the river and knew he wasn’t leaving. He had to try and stop Mathew. Hunching over, he ran towards the fountain and crouched behind it, waiting for the gunfire to stop.
Fifty-One
Scott rolled onto his side and held Rebecca. He didn’t sleep any more – not the way he used to. He cradled Rebecca’s stomach. Inside her was a part of himself. It was what she’d wanted, more than anything, and he’d given it to her. He glanced over at the wardrobe, in which was the bag he’d packed, ready to leave, before she’d told him she was pregnant. Now, it seemed foolish. He could never tell Rebecca what he had thought of doing; she’d never forgive him. But staying felt selfish too. It wasn’t for Rebecca’s benefit he stayed – if he was thinking of her, he’d leave. Because of him, she was in danger. He’d seen it first-hand; his friend, Craig, was killed by a man who called himself a Watcher, but who was nothing more than a religious zealot. He’d seen it with the boy, Adam, whose mother and father were killed by the same rogue Watcher. There was no stopping another crazy person coming for Scott on his date, and killing Rebecca too. To believers, when they truly believed in Heaven, killing was a mercy, a good thing.
The rain was relentless.
In the distance, the green lights of two drones hovered above the city.
On the side table were their train tickets to the Lake District. Rebecca wanted to leave Manchester almost as much as she wanted a child. He was doing this for her too.
He was happy. It felt childish to think it, but he was happy.
Rebecca stretched her legs and sighed.
He was warm, beneath the duvet, lying next to the woman he loved, who was pregnant with his child. For a moment, he slipped through the cracks of space and time and felt weightless. He wanted sleep to come for him before the feeling was lost.
Fifty-Two
Scott raised his head from behind the fountain.
‘Stop!’ Mathew shouted at his Watchers, who were firing at those who had burst into the courtyard. ‘Hold your fire!’
A final gunshot rang out, and there was silence, save for the splashing water in the fountain.
The sounds of gunfire and shouting had attracted several drones from different directions. They hovered close by, stopping a respectable distance from Mathew and the other Watchers. But they waited, their insect-shaped heads dipping now and then.
The self-driver that had burst through the gates was smoking, the front of it smashed in. The other vans were being used as a barricade, behind which more Watchers hid.
‘Gabriel!’ Mathew shouted. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’
‘Where’s Scott?’ Gabriel’s voice bellowed from the smoking self-driver.
‘He’s safe.’
‘We need to talk, Mathew. Please.’
‘You break in here with an army of Watchers and tell me we need to talk?’
‘We know what you’re doing,’ Gabriel said. ‘The dates. You’re going to release them today.’
Scott edged around the fountain to get closer. He shook his head. It was impossible to believe. Today. The dates.
Mathew glanced around the courtyard at his Watchers. ‘I wanted you to know. This is your doing too.’
‘You have to stop it!’ Gabriel shouted.
‘You’re too late.’
A woman with long white hair emerged from one of the self-drivers. ‘Mathew,’ she said. ‘Don’t do this.’
‘Juliet?’ Mathew took a step backwards. ‘What are you doing here?’
She pointed to the Watchers. ‘Please, tell them to lower their guns.’
Mathew waved his hand and the Watchers did as he aske
d.
‘I’ve spoken to the AI,’ Juliet said, moving closer.
‘The dates are correct,’ Mathew said. ‘All of them.’
‘I connected with him through the Telehouse Exchange. But he was holding something back,’ Juliet said. ‘The AI. He knows something. You know too. What is it?’
‘The dates are correct,’ Mathew said. ‘The AI knows the date of the death of everyone on the planet. He is coming for us.’
‘Mathew, please,’ Juliet said. ‘Give us the chance to speak to the AI ourselves. If what you say is true, then there is nothing we can do to change it. We can use our passwords – the three of us. We can make sure. Together.’
Mathew covered his mouth with a fist. But when Gabriel edged out from behind a self-driver, Mathew reached for his revolver again.
‘Wait,’ Gabriel said. ‘I’m unarmed.’
‘Tell your Watchers to drop their weapons and come out,’ Mathew shouted.
‘If you tell me Juliet can speak to the AI, I will.’
‘You’re in no position to bargain, Gabriel.’
‘But we need to know,’ Gabriel said. ‘The AI couldn’t read Scott’s date. You remember that as well as I do. Why couldn’t the AI get a fix on it?’
‘It did.’
‘So you say. But what if there are more like Scott?’
‘Impossible.’
‘Then let us find out for ourselves. Let Juliet speak to the AI without restrictions.’
Mathew held his revolver in both hands, twisting it. ‘I can’t do that.’
Juliet took a step closer. ‘If one date is wrong, it could mean the date of the Rapture is wrong.’
‘Why do you want it to be wrong?’ Mathew snapped. ‘I don’t understand any of this. He is coming. It is a glorious thing. He is coming for us.’
‘But, Mathew,’ Gabriel said, ‘it has to be His doing. Not brought about by us.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Mathew said, trying to compose himself. ‘Don’t you see? He wants us to invite Him. This is His will.’
‘No!’ Gabriel shouted. ‘It’s not. If the dates are wrong, then it will be your doing.’
