La Trascendencia Dorada (74 page)

“We can write off the energy shapes living above the solar north pole; they’re as good as dead; and we can assume almost complete destruction of the people living at Mercury Equilateral.

“Also, the form cities on Demeter, and the shadow clouds living in Earth’s penumbra don’t have any defenses hardened against high radiation; we can expect more deaths there when the Demeter grid goes down.

“Expect communication and power failures along Earth’s ring city, and many more deaths from anyone who relies on continuous energy sustenance, like a download, or a deep-dreamer. The atmosphere will protect Earth herself from the worst of the storms.

“The Earthmind’s intelligence will drop considerably when she is cut off from her remote stations, and orbital-based Sophotechs will be killed.

“The moons of Jupiter will still be in good shape, though, and the Jovian magnetosphere has enough dikes to dampen out the worse of any particle floods the enemy might throw their way. That’s the first eight to sixteen minutes of combat.

“Then, over the next six hundred years or so, the Jovian equatorial supercollider might be able to make enough material to create a fleet of smaller sun-diving vessels like the Phoenix here, and by that time, whatever population the enemy has produced inside the sun or throughout the wreckage of the Solar Array could probably be brought down by sheer weight of numbers. This assumes that civilian morale and support for the war effort will not instantly collapse after the first few permanent deaths when the noumenal resurrection system goes down, which, of course, is an assumption that is … well… false.

“It also assumes that the enemy would not receive any reinforcements from out-system, and would not receive any help from treasonous elements in our own system.”

He was looking at Diomedes when he said this. The unspoken thought hung in the air: the Outer System would be greatly advanced by the war-damage to the Inner System, and the Neptunians, far beyond the range of any battles, untouched, and perhaps glad at the weakness of their hated rivals, the Sophotechs, would be the dominant powers in society during any postwar reconstruction.

Diomedes saw that look or guessed that thought. One of his side comments in the discussion grid was issued in a mild tone: “Do not underestimate the members of the Tritonic Neuroform Composition. We accept lives of wildness and privacy and danger, and yes, the price we pay for that is a certain amount of vandalism and good-natured chaos. But we are not insane. No Eremite of the Outer Dark would steal a gram of unwatched antimatter from a millionaire, or a block of air left unattended in a park, even if he were dying of energy loss, smothering, and about to freeze. We may be poor, but we are not barbarians. And even if we hated you silly, pompous Inner System people, we would not express that hate by aiding in a violent invasion, spilling blood, and trampling your rights: because our rights would be trampled next, our home-selves invaded, our ichor spilled. Why do you Base people all have such a bad opinion of us?”

Daphne offered, “You’re blue and cold and icky and sticky, and you think too fast for us to keep up; that’s my guess.”

Diomedes, sardonically: “Well, thank you.”

Phaethon formed a conversation branch leading from the war speculations back to the main thread.

Had the talk been live, he would have leaned toward Diomedes and asked: “But you wouldn’t, would you, Diomedes? Steal something no matter how badly you needed it or wanted it? Would you, Diomedes? You just take it for granted that people should and will uphold a standard of proper moral conduct. What about attacking civilians without provocation, negotiation, or declaration of war. You never would. Why not?”

Diomedes spread his hands. “I’m a civilized man living in a civilized age. I suppose if I had been matrixed, born, and raised in the Silent Oecumene, I would behave differently.”

“Father? What about you?”

Helion smiled. “What about what? Would I assault an innocent victim like some cleptogeneticist or pirate from an opera? Oh, come now. The way I have lived my life is a sufficient testimony to how seriously I cherish my integrity, I hope.”

“Marshal Atkins?”

He looked bored. “Sneak attacks are useful only in certain limited-engagement situations, or under certain political circumstances, such as a guerrilla campaign. It has to be done to achieve some defined military goal, and with full knowledge of the repercussions. It is more characteristic of primitive warfare or nation-state warfare than modern warfare. Usually, it’s better for both sides to agree upon rules of engagement, and only to break those rules if no diplomatic solution, no retreat, and no surrender, is possible. If that is what you are asking. But there are plenty of times I’d think it was moral and justifiable to strike without warning. The sophistication of modern weaponry makes any open, frontal attack cost-prohibitive. What’s the point of the question? Do we all think that what the Nothing Machine has done is wrong? I certainly hope we do. Do we think that you and your virus bug can convince the Nothing Machine, in a single conversation, to give up, say it’s sorry, and just surrender? You’ve already heard me say that I did not think that that was very likely.”

Phaethon looked at Daphne. “And what about you?”

She blinked and smiled. “I believe in you.”

He smiled at that. “Thank you. But do you believe what I am saying?”

Daphne thought about that for a moment. Then she said: “If reality is real, if the universe is coherent, and morality is objective, then all sufficiently advanced minds will all reach the same conclusions. If that is the case, then I do not see how you can fail. But if reality is subjective, I do not see how you can succeed.

“My love, you are taking a gamble. A philosophical gamble. Philosophers since the Era of the Second Mental Structure have debated these issues. No one knows the ultimate nature of reality. The universe is always larger than the minds inside it.

“Is a gamble worth taking? We all heard Marshal Atkins’s plan for a more conventional war. I would take the risk, if it were me. But you’ve already made up your mind. Why ask me?”

Phaethon said, “But I do not see it as a gamble. It is no bet to bet reality is real. It is a tautology. A equals A.” Had the conversation string contained gestures he would have simply spread his hands, as if to show that nothing could be more obvious.

Helion said, “Son, where does this line of thinking lead? Are you trying to prove that the Earthmind thinks morality is objective? We know that. She has said so often enough. But so what? You’re giving an argument from authority. The mere fact that she holds that opinion, in and of itself, is not convincing. If you cannot convince us, we who are your friends and family, then how are you going to convince an enemy Sophotech, a machine who does not even think like a human being?”

Atkins said, “Give us the argument you will be loading into the gadfly virus. Let’s look at it. If it is sound, we should go ahead with Phaethon’s plan. Not like I have much choice: Kshatrimanyu Han and the Parliament have already ordered me to give my full cooperation to the venture. And we will need help from Helion—he and I can act as meteorological support crew, guidance, and ranging from the Array Tower—if this is going to have any chance of success. Which I doubt it has. So let’s listen. Besides, even if it would not necessarily convince us, it might convince a Sophotech. Remember, they do not think like us, do they?”

A diagram of a philosophy file appeared in the Middle Dreaming. There were thousands upon thousands of branching conversation trees, created by Rhadamanthus Sophotech to anticipate every possible combination of objections and counter-arguments. There were hundreds of definitions, examples, and a compendium of cross-linked metaphors and similes.

The summary of the proof read:

Axioms: A statement that there is no truth, if true, is false. Nor can anyone testify that he has perceived that all his perceptions are illusions. Nor can anyone be aware that he has no awareness. Nor can he identify the fact that there are no facts and that objects have no identities. And if he says events arise from no causes and lead to no conclusions, he can neither give cause for saying so nor will this necessarily lead to any conclusion. And if he denies that he has volition, then such a denial was issued unwillingly, and this testifies that he himself has no such belief.

Undeniably, then, there are volitional acts, and volitional beings who perform them.

A volitional being selects both means and goals. Selecting a goal implies that it ought be done. Selecting a means that defeats the goal at which it aims is self-defeating; whatever cannot be done ought not be done. Self-destruction frustrates all aims, all ends, all purposes. Therefore self-destruction ought not be sought.

The act of selecting means and goals is itself volitional. Since at least some ends and goals ought not be selected (e.g., the self-defeating, self-destructive kind), the volitional being cannot conclude, from the mere feet that a goal is desired, that it therefore ought to be sought.

Since subjective standards can be changed by the volition of the one selecting them, by definition, they cannot be used as standards. Only standards which cannot be changed by the volition can serve as standards to assess when such changes ought be made.

Therefore ends and means must be assessed independently of the subjectivity of the actor; an objective standard of some kind must be employed. An objective standard of any kind implies at the very least that the actor apply the same rule to himself that he applies to others.

And since no self-destruction ought be willed, neither can destruction at the hands of others; therefore none ought be willed against others; therefore no destructive acts, murder, piracy, theft, and so on, ought be willed or ought be done. All other moral rules can be deduced from this foundation.

Helion dismissed the text. “I do not need to see this again. I wrote this argument.”

Daphne regarded him with a surprised and skeptical look, “And now you say you don’t believe it yourself?”

Helion spread his hands: “I do believe it, but I believe it because I place a high value on logic and come from a scientific and advanced culture. Sophotechs are creatures of pure logic; so naturally they would be convinced of the same thing. But the Silent Oecumene, from everything we can tell, was a culture that placed a low value on rationality. Their machines were programmed not to listen to reason. So it is futile to use reason to convince them. That’s my point. Logic is a human construct. Humans can ignore it.”

Phaethon answered: “Sophotechs cannot.”

Atkins objected: “This argument here just looks like a word game to me. I could poke a dozen holes in it, or pick flaws in your ambiguous terms. And I’m just a man. If I had the mind of a Sophotech, I’m sure I could find a million exceptions to it, a million reasons why it just so happens not to apply to this particular situation.”

Helion made a mild reply, “Captain, that summary has volumes of continued argument, definitions, and clarifications behind it. It is internally self-consistent. If you agree with any part of it, you have to agree with the rest. Perhaps you should study it more before you decide.”

Atkins answered, “You’re missing the point. Phaethon said this is a question of fixing a broken machine, and you, Helion, are talking like this is a debate society, where whoever breaks the agreed-upon rules of logic will bow out like a good sport. That’s all hogwash. The enemy is not going to stand still and let himself get fixed, not if getting fixed will lose him the war. The enemy is not going to play by any rules if those rules require him to lose.”

Phaethon said, “I am not sure that this thing is actually an enemy at all. This may be merely a fellow victim of the insanity of the Second Oecumene. It is not aware of the meaning or the implications of its own actions. It is broken. I can fix it. As soon as it knows that everything it knew was all a lie, it will be burning to find out the truth about itself. Once anyone finds out that the truth is being kept from him, he tries to find it out.”

Atkins said, “You’re reading your own desires into it. Not everyone puts truth above all things.”

Phaethon said, “And you are reading your own desires into it. Not everyone puts winning above all things.”

“Survivors do.”

“Sophotechs do not.”

Atkins said heavily: “But you are the one who says this thing is not a Sophotech. It’s not entirely self-aware. It’s not entirely a creature of pure logic. You actually don’t know what it is, what it thinks like. You know nothing about it. None of us do.”

Phaethon said, “I know one thing. And I know it with an unshakable certainty. Just this: Reality cannot lack integrity. That is the nature of reality. One part of reality cannot contradict another part, not and be real. Likewise, one thought cannot contradict another thought, not and both be true. One desire cannot contradict another, not and both be satisfied.

“If reality contradicts your thoughts, that’s delusion. If your thoughts contradict your actions, that’s madness. If reality contradicts your actions, that’s defeat, frustration, self-destruction. And no sane being wants delusion, madness, and destruction.

“And here, with this philosophy given me by my father, the courage given me by my wife, the technique given me by the Earthmind, and this great ship I have made myself, I have the tools and abilities and equipment I need to correct the delusion and madness and destruction which the Silent Oecumene has unleashed upon our peaceful society.

“Gentlemen, believe me! This is an engineering problem, a problem of applied logic! All the eventualities have been prepared for. I do not care how much smarter than I am this Nothing Machine might be: I have closed off every other avenue available, except the one which leads to my success. This plan cannot fail!” Phaethon saw that all the men around the table were staring at him as if he was doomed. Atkins said, “And what if it is not sane?” Phaethon saw no point in trying to answer that. It seemed so obvious to him, so clear. He merely compressed his lips, shook his head, a sad look in his eye. Atkins got up, looking grim and disgusted, and left without a further word. Diomedes said to himself, aloud, “Well. We’ve heard Phaethon say he knows where madness and delusion come from. I wonder where overweening pride comes from?” With a gentle smile, he excused himself, and wandered away.