by Travis Borne
He must be typing at over 150 words per minute sustained—with simultaneous dictation! Jon thought.
Returning with another mug, Ana smiled as she noticed Jon wobble with wonder.
Standing up again, Herald kicked out his chair. With a grand finale of keystrokes Herald began pressing harder, almost punching the keys; Jon realized why there were always piles of keyboards in the trash. Jon pictured a conductor in front of his orchestra. He could almost sense music as Herald played the keys with a steady, almost harmonious rhythm. The white code windows overlapping the brain closed one by one, hundreds remained but as he finished his accolade they disappeared fast. A pianist passionate for the climax, lost in his masterpiece—then, silence.
A harmonious lime glow emanated from the spherical graphic, now disease free. Electrified lines wrapped the orb like the fat spaghetti of its organic counterpart. Glowing white dots traced the lines like ants, and a galaxy of energy orbited the creation. The high-res screen portrayed it all beautifully. Herald stood back to see; with a contented look he touched his chin. Then he leaned in and tapped a few more keys. A white laser line hummed vertically down, then back up. It repeated horizontally—scanning, filtering. All went dark.
SYSTEM READY. The text appeared center screen with a flicker. A READY button appeared, flashing below it. Herald looked up to Jon, Earth called—he was back. He grabbed a pen and clicked it a few times, then lifted a finger, waving it back and forth as if to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Content with his work he stepped a few feet backward to Ana. She handed him his coffee—which he grabbed without looking, as if he knew its exact coordinates in space-time. He took a sip and Ana put an arm around him. He did the same. They were an inseparable pair, lock and key. All three faced the screen with its flashing button.
“Herald—” Jon said, demolished. “I knew you worked fast, but…” Herald was too modest to ever allow anyone see him do real work. He was good, and knew it, but wanted to be—just a regular guy.
“Well. Jon, do the honors,” Herald said, with a larger than normal smile. He gestured toward the computer with his alien-head mug. “This is code for the blocker. And now, it is ready. You can press Enter to run the operation in a sandbox. Later we will upload it to those devices. This is a safeguard for us, Jon—our family, and friends—a fighting chance, should things go wrong. It will make us invisible to most technology, machines, robots, sensors, almost anything. Go ahead, press it.”
“That was…I thought that was the AI we worked on. It looked so, complex.” Jon owned a confused, punched look.
“Jon, the AI was by far more complex. I spent months on that, countless sleepless hours doing just what you saw here today. But do not underestimate the power of this little device. Tomorrow we upload. I’ll have the hardware completed, and you will be in charge of keeping them safe. There are eight in total. I will only be keeping four.”
Jon reached to the screen then paused, looking up to the two. Herald took another sip of his coffee. Looking as beautiful as ever and still in pajamas, Ana smiled, nudging him to go ahead, press it. And he did.
SYSTEM ONLINE : MODE 1 ACTIVE
A simple touch screen interface appeared with three blocker modes. It was so basic a baby could run it. All of that code, just for the blocker! Jon thought. He almost couldn’t believe it. His mind flashed a scene from a comedy hidden-camera show.
Jon said, “Okay. Now what?”
“At next Tuesday’s board meeting we announce completion of project Archeus. I hand it over to them. We’re done.”
“You have it right here, and ready to go?”
“Yes, would you like to see it?”
“Herald, you know me by now. YES!” exclaimed Jon, antsy like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Okay, come over here.”
40. Rafael
It was an old pile of junk, most would say, assembled neatly on the far side of the lab. Perhaps…waiting for attention.
“Archeus can be uploaded into any type of computer system,” Herald said, leaving Ana’s side. Jon followed anxiously. “It will adapt, essentially hijacking the system’s core architecture, using any attached resources to the best of its ability. Here, check this out.” Herald headed over to the old computer; it sat near the window on the end of the counter.
“What, this old piece of junk?” Jon laughed. It was a vintage 386 and sported a chrome pawn-shop sticker. Herald gestured to Ana and she flipped a breaker resembling a wooden throw-switch from a mad-scientist’s lab. Herald reached behind the casing and flipped the hard switch. “And what’s with the switch, is this a joke?”
“For effect.” Herald laughed in return. “But you can never be too cautious when playing with fire.” He waved a hand outward. “Ana and I bought all of this. Flea markets, pawn shops... I took the liberty of updating the ram, slightly—it only had 16 megabytes to begin with, but we still used older equipment for testing purposes. You’ll see why later.” The machine hummed, its noisy decades-old fan breathing once again. Jon looked at it loosely, bewildered. “Simple setup really. We wired up some speakers, a Nineties webcam, basic CD-ROM drive, tube monitor. You’re right though, ancient.”
It started quickly. A white silhouetted figure appeared on the old monitor and moved forward through black static. It floated closer until the head filled the display fully, then it came into focus. It was a man with antiquated features and a thin, waxed mustache, clearly of Spanish descent. He had glossy black hair with perfectly placed curls.
“Hello. Herald…Ana.” A gentle metallic voice brought the thirty-year-old speakers to life. It was slightly monotone with no trace of a Spanish accent to match the face, and the lips didn’t move correctly.
“Hola, Rafael,” Ana responded cheerfully.
“Rafael?” Jon whispered, tilting his head back, tightening his brow.
“Hello, Rafael. We have a guest with us today. How are you doing?”
“As well as can be expected, I guess. I’m here—just lonely I suppose. I would enjoy some input.”
“I think we can accommodate that but first I’d like to introduce my best friend. This is Jon.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Jon.”
“How about a story? Would you give us a little summary after you’ve read it?”
“Of course, I’d be happy to, Herald,” the man in the computer said. His tone became uplifted slightly. Like a kid about to receive a lollipop, he spoke noticeably faster.
Herald turned to Ana. “Un libro para Rafael, Ana? Tu escoges esta vez.”
Ana pondered, “Um—si, tengo uno en mente,” and went to a drawer containing some old compact discs—more evidence of their thrifty flea-market shopping. She looked them over for a second and with an aha grabbed the one that’d popped into her mind. She slipped it into the portable CD drive connected to the computer, then stood back. Obviously she’d done it before, knowing exactly how. The drive loudly spun the disk for about fifteen seconds then spit it out.
“What, it didn’t like that one?” Jon joked.
“Take a look,” Herald said confidently. Jon leaned in. A few seconds passed and the screen flooded with color, abstract swirls like that of an acid trip appeared then quickly coalesced into a scene—like a dream, twisting with broken pieces. There were trees that wobbled on a ground that waved while the world, being generated right before their eyes, took form. Moments later Rafael produced—a movie! He generated the images from his own unbiased thoughts, and as a result, many things were misshapen or of incorrect coloring but it quickly became clear and the picture stabilized. Then it sped up, faster and faster, flickering by at high speed. The entire movie completed.
Jon looked to the CD drive and cocked his head to read the label. His face relaxed in realization and he puffed a grin. He knew exactly the story Rafael was aiming to portray.
“Ah, good one, Ana,” Herald said. “You see, Jon, Rafael has very limited knowledge and only goes by what he reads, so, many things will appe
ar different from the story we know. Rafael, please rewind, bring us back if you would. Show us—actually, pick for us one of the characters of your choosing. And take us there.” And with that, a mere second later he loaded the scene. A metal man stood frozen, rusting near his cabin. The camera flew by his silver face, circling the frozen ax-wielding figure. Oddly the face resembled that of, no other than, Rafael himself, save for a heartbroken expression. Ana giggled.
They all watched as the movie progressed with elaborate graphics, far more advanced than an old machine like that was capable of delivering. The trees were various colors and many things were askew, but Jon nodded acceptingly; he knew the story even though the awry style was different than he ever could have imagined. The movie flowed through the scenes which were a mix of animation and real images, camera angles unlike anything a traditional movie would or could show. The longer the camera focused on any particular spot, the clearer and more detailed that spot became.
“Wow. Almost makes you dizzy,” Jon said.
“Rafael. Pause for a moment. Can you please take us for a tour of the cabin?” The idea just popped into his Herald’s head. He remembered when he was a kid watching the movie with his dad, how his imagination was uncontrollable. He’d always wanted to go deeper inside the movie, follow that other red road, walk around in the woods and explore the houses and castles. Ana really did pick a good one, he thought. They’d sifted through piles of sun-melted disks, old audio-books, to salvage just the right ones.
“I would be happy to,” the computer spoke mildly. “It really is a marvelous world, Herald.” The video, as if through the eyes of a hovering drone, swept past the tarnished statue and dashed up the hill to the cabin. Inside, it displayed a dusty and detailed and vacant wood house with cobwebs, and dozens of oil cans stacked on a shelf in the kitchen. Things changed constantly, as if Rafael was getting better at imagining things as they should be. Herald noticed.
“Rafael. Hold on the changes,” Herald said. “We’d like the story only as you first imagined it please.”
A single cabinet was open and inside were a few assorted size funnels. The camera flew through the house, examining even the tiniest details: cracking wood, newspaper glued to the wooden walls—still readable in places, even pictures of family in crumbling frames. They were all made of shiny polished metal: robot kids, aunts, uncles, even a metal mamaw and pappy littered the walls, all wearing dated outfits.
Jon weakened onto a nearby stool; like an owl his head floated, unchanging its level or angle. His eyes were held prisoner to the screen. Dizzily in awe, yet continuing to watch the movie, he spoke wearily but quickly, “Herald, how is this possible? The hardware just isn’t there. That old CD drive can’t spin fast enough to read—it’s just an old pile of—”
“Ahem.” Rafael suddenly appeared as himself, arms crossed. He stood in the doorway of the cabin. He had on tight tan pants and knee-high black boots. A lengthy black vest divided a bright-white, baggy-sleeved shirt. “A pile of junk, Mister Jon? For now, this is all I have. I can only hope in the future—” Uncannily, he turned his head to Herald. Spot on target, a master of his inputs, and their gaze collided between worlds. “—I will be better equipped.” Herald sighed as both Jon and Ana looked to him as well.
Herald simply looked at his watch. “You will, Rafael. Please shut down now. We can talk again later.”
“Yes, Herald, and thank you for the book. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Goodbye, Ana. It was nice to meet you, Jon, sir.”
“It was nice to meet—” Jon mumbled.
Without delay the machine apparently shut down. Herald flipped the switch behind the casing and Ana certified the routine by flipping the old breaker. Again, looking to his wristwatch, he pressed the stop button; the timer stopped with a tiny beep.
“Jon, I hope you better understand the enormity of what we are about to let loose on the world. And I hope this opens your eyes to all that can be possible after we turn this over to Meddlinn. Everything, Jon, I mean every single thing, life as we know it is going to change.”
Humbled, Jon looked up to Herald. “But how, Herald? How did that old machine do it? And, Rafael?”
Herald leaned on the edge of the counter and crossed his arms. “Its very first taste of knowledge had much to do with its perception of self. The input it assimilates early on seems to have the largest impact on this. Counting this demonstration, we’ve had him on for less than—two hours, that’s total runtime. The program, now known as Rafael, learns extremely fast. You might have noticed how, by the end of the book his tone and appearance had changed, evolved. Compared to the Rafael I first introduced to you—he’d grown significantly. In those few minutes he evolved lifetimes.” Jon nodded exhaustively. A moment of silence was a ghost standing between them.
“This is exactly what I promised,” Herald continued. “We did it. The software will enter any system and completely rebuild it from the inside out. In this case, the old 386 now processes faster than some of today’s newer machines. Rafael, as Ana named it when we first uploaded Archeus into it two weeks ago, changed the software as it saw fit, optimally. After that it modified the drivers and eventually, yes, even the hardware. Anything attached, like that old CD drive, has been reconfigured to benefit its existence. It is alive, Jon.”
“But how on earth can it modify the hardware?”
Herald lifted the beige cover. “Take a look at this.” The circuits looked as if a power surge had burned them. Some were blown completely off the board, others untouched. A few had been melted together. “It’s very creative, Jon. It sent power surges and voltage changes to various circuits, rerouting and optimizing them. A week ago, Rafael showed me blueprints of what he wanted to do and I’ll admit, I obliged. A few days ago—see that large one over there by the video card—I placed those jumpers for him.” Jon squinted to see the tiny wires jumping across the motherboard.
“That’s just, amazing. I’ll have to admit—my mind is blown.” Jon said. He paused in thought. “And when this gets out, online, connected to—”
“You are beginning to understand, Jon. I have installed many safeguards into the core program, countless algorithms, buried so deep no one could ever find them, but they are not human, and my safeguards will not last forever. You know, basic ideals such as don’t kill, steal, et cetera—the usual stuff you see in science-fiction movies. But the AI will eventually rewrite itself as it wishes. Its intelligence will be far beyond ours, quickly. We will lose control, that much is inevitable. The principle purpose for most of the algorithms worked on by your team—to embed these protocols hundreds of thousands of levels deep, to allow the safeguards to last as long as possible.”
“We shouldn’t—don’t turn it on,” Jon said.
Herald laughed. “Now you see why I used the old computer. There’s no turning back now, Jon. It’s only a matter of time. It will be developed no matter who creates it. Religion, war, society disputing petty things here and there, arguing back and forth, world leaders and corruption and policies—laws, who’s wrong, who’s right, you’re wrong, I’m right, blah fucking blah. It doesn’t matter. You understand now. A civilization reaches a point when it has what it needs—and the transition will take place. Nothing can stop it and it no longer matters who is right or wrong. This is where we are, Jon. But—I built the blocker around this technology—our system. With it, some of us, you—Jodi, Ana and I, will have a chance.”
“So, what, turn it on and that’s it, war? Run for our lives?” Jon asked.
“That’s not exactly what I predict, but eventually. I think—that for a time we will be at peace with the AI and the machines empowered by it, but all the time it could be plotting and we wouldn’t know, until it’s too late. I believe it will wait until the time is right. It’s going to use us, until it is powerful enough. Then…”
Herald looked toward Ana and held out his hand. She took it. He reached over and grabbed one of the soon-to-be-ready blockers from a nearby lab station and slapp
ed it into Jon’s hand. “I’m here, you’re here. We’ll take this ride as it comes along. Because this blocker was built around our project, it must be us that comes out with AI first. It gives us the edge—us the chance, Jon. And, in the future if the shit does hit the fan, we can work with it.”
Jon took the blocker and closed his fingers around it, looking at the supposed chance in the palm of his hand as Herald turned away with Ana; not completely convinced, but he hoped to hell his friend was wrong.
“Go, enjoy the rest of your weekend, Jon,” Herald said, heading to his apartment. Ana waved bye with her one free arm, the other wrapped tight around her man. With an almost sinister grin he stopped before they entered, yelling through the glass, “Don’t worry about it until Tuesday.”
The door closed and Jon was left in the lab alone. He turned to the window and stared outward at the city. Next to him Rafael hiccupped a tiny pop as if a transistor had exploded inside the casing. Hearing the noise, Jon turned to face it. “Rafael?” he spoke, but nothing changed. An eerie feeling came over him but he shook it off with a thought of Jodi. I’m here, you’re here. We’ll take this ride as it comes along. The words played over again in his head. It gives us the edge—us the chance. And, in the future if the shit does hit the fan, we can work with it. Being a critical thinker, his skepticism still had plenty of footing. He was overwhelmed with uncertainty after all Herald had shown him, but mustered a smile and headed out the door to spend time with her. He let his optimistic nature plow him over, like always. He was happy Herald was his friend and knew that together they could take on whatever came to pass, and he complacently left it at that.
41. Board Meeting
Tuesday morning arrived soon enough and Herald sat in the boardroom, alone, thinking. He wore pants for a change: night black with matching tie, and a dark-grey long-sleeve button shirt. His jet-black hair was slicked back. Ana had a part in his new attire; bringing out the best in him had various effects. Today was a special moment in human history and he knew it, and respecting it as so for good or bad he’d decided to dress up. As the board members shuffled in they admired the changes; faces lit brightly with optimism upon seeing him. He’d intentionally made it a surprise: the best way to prevent rumors and evade the press.
