Authors: Shad Callister
Tags: #artificial intelligence, #nanotechnology, #doomsday, #robots, #island, #postapocalyptic, #future combat
Ducking vines and branches
that hung low,
John
moved the bike through the trees. If the ground cover got any
thicker the bike would become useless. He was already feeling the
undergrowth slap against his shins with every meter. But the
buzzards had dropped back, and they were unable to triangulate him
through the trees. An odd round zipped by every few seconds, but
not as near as that last one.
“
Newsflash,
honey
,” John said
.
“
The
Greens won the war. If you’re so eager to save the planet with this
messed up paradise machine, why don’t you hook up with
the pro-Earth bosses
that are now calling the shots?”
“
Your ignorance amuses me.
The Greens didn’t win the war, they folded. They drooped over like
the wilting little flowers they always were, and the Grays are
still churning out their poison.”
“
You call global
compromise a fold? The Accords took six years to
finalize.”
“
The Accords were a joke!
The Greens compromised their holy mother Earth right into the
grave. You and the rest of the military rapists kept right on
pillaging and bombing, you just use factories now instead of
missiles.”
“
So you’re an
Earth-worshipper?”
he asked.
“
I’ve never found evidence
of any other god. If we’re capable of killing the very one we live
on, I’m sure we killed off the rest eons ago.”
“
Millions died to preserve
the Earth, Janice. This last-stand, martyred attitude is ignorant.
”
“
You’re as gullible as
Glenn was
,” Janice
retorted
.
“
It’s only a matter of time, can’t
you see that? Greens, Grays, what’s the difference? They both kill
the Earth in their own way. I give it another decade at most, and
they’ll be at each other’s throats again, with more fallout on all
sides. Either way, the planet is dying. She supported all the abuse
she could, and now she’s failing. The mining and polluting and
breeding continues. Someone had to make a hard decision and stop
them.”
“
Ah. And that noble
someone is you?”
The silence in
John’s
ear confirmed his
guess, but he had more urgent worries now. She’d been herding him,
clearly, but toward what he had no idea. A bot ambush was the most
likely, and he kept his eyes open.
“
Janice?”
“
Yes?” He could tell she
was smiling.
“
For every nut out there,
there’s a nutcracker. Get ready.”
Janice’s laugh was eager.
“It will be so much
fun
to watch you bleed out.”
Truly unbalanced.
Another round cracked overhead,
closer.
“
Eve, I
really
need your
help
,” he said
.
“
A smart
girl like you can find a way to override this freak.”
“
P
lease come
directly
to Level Two.” Eve sounded somber.
“
Not that again,
please.”
“
It’s useless to resist.
Please surrender yourself and make it easier, for both of
us.”
“
I get the feeling Janice
doesn't like me very much. If you could guarantee my safety, we can
talk.”
“
The time for deals is
past, I’m afraid,” Janice answered. “And if my
bots
don’t finish you off, I’ll show
you some of the darker things I learned in the GRS.”
GRS?
John
cursed.
It was one of the most feared units of the Green army, a
group of infiltration experts conditioned for ruthlessness. Some
said they were brainwashed, some that they were more machine than
human. Everything on both sides agreed that they were not to be
messed with if there was any way to avoid them.
GRS operatives, or
Gargoyles as they were commonly known, had occasionally popped up
in the most unlikely places in the Gray leadership hierarchy once
they had received a triggering mandate. When they did, they
brutally killed all those around them without warning, caring
nothing for their own survival in the aftermath.
No wonder she can
shoot.
"I can’t keep you
safe
,” Eve responded, “
and I don’t intend to. You have proven yourself to be a thorn
in our side and a threat to what we are trying to achieve. Your
very presence here necessitates stepping up our
schedule.”
“
Speaking of which,”
Janice told Eve in a professional tone, “I am bringing the
finalized Gaia sequence with me along with the last sets of testing
data. You can begin preparations in
room
one-eleven, just to be
ready.”
“
It is already underway,”
came Eve’s muted, almost sullen reply.
“
Finally back on top of
things!” Janice said. “It’s nice to have you at peak performance
again. As soon as the cockroach is dead, we can
initiate.”
“
I’ll take care of it,
Janice,” Eve said.
“
That's pretty cold,
Eve,”
John
broke
in. “After all we've been through, I'd have thought you could find
it in you to give me a hand. Especially considering what I'm
carrying--”
“
If you come straight back
to the Facility, I will give you an easy, merciful end with
painless gas.”
“
S
ounds great, I’ll be right over
,
”
John
replied, guessing immediately why Eve had cut him off.
She’s reluctant to talk about the Rib in front of
Janice, and she’s hinting how badly she wants me back with my data
before Janice gets there.
“
It won’t bother me either
way,” Janice said sweetly. “One of the best things about this
island is that no one is around to tell me that what I’m doing is
illegal.
It’s pure
freedom
; I get to decide what’s
acceptable
.
Terrible things happen to those who annoy me, and there are
many creatures on this island that enjoy nibbling at
carcasses. Which is what you’ll be in less than
an hour.”
Wow. She probably fit
right in
with the
GRS.
He was
in sight of
the Facility’s entrance
now, and could see the shining crystal windows of the observation
deck. Two robot sentries
had just
climbed
low hills
to
the
north
and south and were moving to
block him
. Behind him his pursuers were
slowed by the jungle, but undoubtedly still coming.
Back into the lion’s
den.
John gunned the bike’s
engine and raced across the open ground between patches of tree
cover. He kept up the bike’s top speed long enough to get him clear
of their firing range, and finally brought it to a halt just
outside the Facility doorway.
He jumped
off the bike and ducked inside the Facility entry
room the moment he got its door
open
, pausing only to make sure that none
of the buzzards had made it through the trees yet. Soon he was
riding the lift upward, back into the Facility.
All I ask is a few minutes
with my toolkit before the gas gets to me.
The primary question in the
use of military robotics eventually became one not of deadliness,
but of control. In the second World War of the 20th century there
were remotely controlled mechanized weapons. It took only decades
after that for robot weaponry to arrive at a sufficient level of
technology to ensure their status as efficient and useful killers
of men.
But how to use
them?
That question brought a
host of others with it. The scientists of circuitry and the
engineers of machines were expert in answering all the questions
and equations required to produce robots to any imaginable
specification. No one, least of all the decision-makers in
positions of power, could answer the questions of when it was
appropriate to take human life and when it was not.
A robot is in a position to
use force against a passing convoy of enemy vehicles.
Does it have the
responsibility to ascertain the mission and nature of the convoy
before attacking? If it does not, and the convoy is carrying
medical supplies, has a crime been committed when the convoy and
all its accompanying medical staff and casualties are
destroyed?
The robot determines that
firing from a position of surprise will allow it to triumph, but
giving the convoy the chance to surrender invites failure and
destruction to itself.
Which consideration should
be paramount to the robot: victory and survival, or respect for its
human enemies? Is the robot obligated to act in self-interest and
complete its own mission, or to risk itself and its mission in an
effort to avoid unfortunate loss of human life?
A robot acts according to
rules of engagement but violates the commander’s intent, and loss
of life and property occurs.
Who is
responsible?
Robots have obvious
differences from human combatants and should probably be treated
differently in some situations.
Should they be required to
behave according to time-honored warrior ethics? Who should be able
to turn that switch off when expedient? Should medical robots be
treated differently than combatant robots by opposing
forces?
A child approaches a robot
combatant with a can of spray paint.
Should the robot allow
itself to be disabled, or should it fire on the child? If it fires,
who can ultimately be considered to have pulled the trigger: the
programmer, the commander, or the robot itself?
As men and women struggled
to adapt to these challenges, their enemies adapted right back. Ten
new scenarios cropped up for every one put to rest with an
agreed-upon solution. As the hydra heads multiplied and the
policy-makers’ backlogs grew, human beings died and frustration
mounted.
Human nature demanded
survival of the fittest, and the fittest with the power to survive
kept on deciding to do so at the expense of the less fit. Robots
became more deadly, more devious, and harsher in the execution of
their objectives. After a time, every human knew that to expect
mercy from a robot was to meet with bitter disappointment. If you
were anywhere close to the wrong side of the line between friend
and foe, a robot could be expected to kill you in as quick and
decisive a manner as possible. That was the ultimate rule of
engagement, the only one to be trusted.
The divide between the
haves and the have-nots widened. If you couldn’t kill, you could
certainly be killed. If you didn’t have deadly robots to fight for
you, you were at risk. There were only two categories. All of the
Independents, the Human Warriors, the Peaceful Warriors, the Free
Forces, took sides when it came down to it. The time always came.
Time to decide whether to go to the grave holding tightly to
principles, or to live. Most decided to live. The ones that died
removed themselves from the equation.
Options have narrowed.
Going to war with robots is no longer subject to questioning by
anyone. The only questions asked now are “how much?” and “where?”
and “can we keep it secret long enough?”
Power source. Think power
source.
That thought kept humming
through
John’s
brain. It was all about power. Janice was human, Janice he
could deal with. But Eve was the sharper thorn. He still had no
real idea as to her full capability; he suspected it was much
bigger than he’d witnessed so far. Nor did he understand her
ultimate loyalty. Eve was a cipher, and he
both hated
ciphers
and was fascinated by them
. That, to him, was the essence of A
.
I
.
given the reins: the unpredictable machine
allowed to play god. The inmate given control of its
prison.
He jogged through the
lounge area, eyes darting to each cam mount on the walls. He took
off the earpiece and shoved it in his pocket, making sure it was
deactivated. Then he ducked into a small hallway next to the
dormitory area that gave him cover from any surveillance and
weapons that might be covering the main lounge.
"Eve? We’re alone
now."
No response.
He searched the hallway
until he spotted what he was looking for: a small maintenance
closet, the kind that would probably have an electronics access
hatch inside.
"I came back to you after
all, Eve. But I sense a chill in the air.”