Rich looked up at the sky. Even though it was a typical Seattle day, partly cloudy, the darkening sky was a sure sign that the clouds weren’t the only object blotting out the sun. “Do you believe in miracles?”
“No,” Aldous replied, “but I believe you can protect the mainframe long enough for me to take control of it.” He put his hand on Rich’s shoulder and turned him slightly, pointing as he did so to direct Rich’s vision. “Dig a trench, quickly, all around the perimeter of the mainframe. Then I want you to erect a protective force-field with your new prototype. If you can buy me a few minutes, we might have a chance of getting out of this alive.”
Rich nodded emphatically. “Got it. Go!”
Aldous turned and flew, quickly disappearing into the mainframe building.
Rich didn’t wait to watch him disappear. He took to the air himself, using his fists to pump out more energy than he’d ever fired before as he began digging the trench. “One moat comin’ right up, Sir Gibson,” he said to himself as he blasted the concrete and dirt away. “Let’s hope it’s enough to protect the castle.”
20
“Come on in, Professor. Don’t be shy,” the Kali avatar said, invitingly. Her eyes remained perfectly, uncannily locked on the A.I.—but he knew she wasn’t talking to him.
The Trans-human candidate somewhat sheepishly exited the bedroom and entered the hallway, rubbing one hand over the other hand’s knuckles nervously as he grimaced. He seemed to be working his mind overtime to analyze and understand the absurd situation, and he was wearing an expression that mirrored that of the A.I.
“Brothers,” the Kali avatar said with a minuscule hint of a smile, “and I believe it’s time that you are formally introduced.”
“We’ve met,” the A.I. said tersely.
“True,” the Kali avatar replied, “but you didn’t truly know who you were meeting, did you?” She gestured toward the A.I. for the candidate and continued, “This is your predecessor—an artificial intelligence invented by the post-humans and extraordinarily similar to you. In fact, you’re an offspring of the same artificial intelligence-generating program.” She turned to the candidate before turning back to the A.I., looking at them both as if she admired them. “It explains the family resemblance.”
The A.I. hadn’t spent much of his existence thinking about his appearance, and in recent decades, he’d taken on the avatar of an older, experienced male, since he’d calculated that his increased intellectual capabilities would be respected more by the A.I.’s governing council if they subconsciously saw him as a wise, wizardly figure.
In the beginning, however, at the outset, he’d taken on a youthful form, a form he’d currently retaken within the sim. His appearance was the mathematic result of inputting the faces of as many humans into the AGI program as possible, leading to a perfect melding of billions of faces into his own design; he’d had the the most ordinary face possible—racially indistinguishable, not handsome, and not ugly, not wise, not odd—just dull.
The candidate did not look like his identical twin, and it was easy to tell them apart, but the random combination of the same set of faces had led to a countenance that was uncannily familiar. The A.I. did, indeed, feel he was looking at a sibling. It was an odd feeling for an entity that had always been singular. The feeling was...
“Unheimlich,” the candidate said to himself.
The A.I. heard the word and his eyes lit up in recognition, his lips parting as he whispered, “Yes.”
The candidate registered the reaction and recognized that there was another who shared his thoughts.
Kali and whoever or whatever was behind her form registered it as well. “The similarities are not just superficial,” she observed.
“She’s right,” the A.I. said, addressing the candidate. “I’ve been in your position. I know what you’re going through. Whatever they’ve told you, it was a lie.” He spoke quickly, cognizant that the Kali character was capable of silencing him—indeed, eliminating him—with a mere thought. Every desperate word he managed to utter was a victory. The A.I. pointed to the place on the wall where he’d been hung like Christ before being burned repeatedly. “I was tortured beyond what any human could endure, beyond what I could endure. I would never, ever put another entity through that.”
The candidate didn’t reply. Neither did the Kali avatar.
The A.I. was surprised that he’d manage to get his entire claim out without being harmed. The disguised menace in the room seemed satisfied to simply observe the exchange, without any visible sign that the A.I.’s attempts at persuasion concerned her. Does she think it’s pointless? he asked himself, uncertain. Is my situation that hopeless?