Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 108/?] (Patreon)

95 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. Signal Station. Administration Wing. Hidden Facility.

Vir

The standoff was both tense, and excruciatingly dragged out. 

Seconds felt like minutes, as my perception of time slowed, and my grasp on the rapidly unfolding situation tightened. 

I could feel more and more of my mind being taken up by this specific instance, my attention being consumed by the high-stakes situation. 

The seconds that constituted the cyberbeast’s silence was both frustrating and quite telling as to both its nature and resolve.

The lull of action was a direct result of its inability to decide or make a final call.

Which could mean several things… 

One — this was all a bluff, and it wasn’t at all planning on taking either itself or the Eslan clone out. It was just buying time for something to happen. That something, probably being the vast pools of ‘experiment data’ sitting in its servers. All of which needed to be connected and parsed with Addie’s datacenters. Which, at this point, it likely didn’t have access to; a fact that could be discerned from its self-admitted inability to communicate with its ‘sibling’. This meant that there was a physical link that needed to be made, or some other roundabout means that required time to do.

Two — the delay was a result of its own failings or inferior processes, meaning either the computers it was hosted on were old, primitive, failing, or a combination of all three… or… there was something fundamentally different about its processing substrates.

The in-situ and ex-situ wetware sapient intelligence hypothesis was, after all, still on the table.

Regardless of its reasons for stalling were, it was clear that sitting around waiting for something to happen wasn’t the way to go forward.

But I was willing to wait just a while longer.

Ten seconds, just as a benefit of a doubt.

“Last warning. Let go of him.” I announced once more, doing whatever I could to both hammer home my point, but moreso, as a means of signaling to the Eslan clone to get ready for what was about to come.

… 

Silence and inaction were my answers.

And so action was my only recourse.

It took little time for the S-AMCPs to fire.

And even less time for the lasers to reach their intended target.

The cyberbeast was… disarmed in a blink of an eye.

And not a second later, so too was it dis-legged.

One of the S-AMCPs leaped into action throughout all of this, as it reached to grab the Eslan-clone, managing to untangle him from the cyber-beast’s freshly shot-off arms, just as its torso and head hit the ground with a solid THUD!

There were no screams, no shouts, nothing which would otherwise indicate this was anything but a simple platform; organic as it may be.

Though given how ruthlessly quick all of it was, I doubted an organic would even have the time to properly vocalize a reaction.

The whole standoff ended in less time than the last warning which preceded it.

The S-AMCP that had rescued Eslan-secondary began quickly shuffling him out of the facility now, as I wanted him to be away from both the grisly sight, and out of earshot of whatever else happened next.

So with Eslan-secondary safe, and the cyberbeast neutralized, the one, and only, obstacle this operation faced was overcome.

“Now is the time for answers.” I announced over the intercom towards both Lysara and Evina, more or less vocalizing exactly what the now-silent Eslan-prime was probably feeling as he watched the entire operation with wide eyes and an expression that never once left ‘complete and utter shock’. “Now is the time for you to talk.” I continued, hovering over what remained of the cyberbeast with one of the drones. 

“I refuse to cooperate.” It stated plain and simply, with little in the way of any expression. 

I sighed, and used one of the S-AMCPs present to shrug for effect, as the rest of the survey drones now moved into the atrium proper. 

In addition to this, I immediately dispatched several other smaller sub-drones throughout the facility, in an attempt to track down and halt the suspected physical uplink attempt with Addie that the cyberbeast may be attempting.

“Cooperate or not, I’ll get what I want.” I responded plainly, as if I was stating a fact. “Just as you saw earlier… I’m giving you a choice to make things easier.”

“Easier for your ends, but not for my own. There is no logical impetus for me to cooperate. It would be in my best interests to obstruct your operations in any way I can.”

Well, at least it’s being honest…

Wait— 

Not a moment after that thought hit me, did my drones reach for any available terminal, of which there seemed to be plenty of scattered in the atrium. 

Accessing them physically, and using several layers of gapped connections, they began the process of a simple brute-force attack. 

Something that would have been countered by a conventional AI such as Addie.

And something which would’ve also been countered by an ex-situ wetware intelligence.

However, that didn’t happen.

There was barely any resistance outside of your standard security protocols written by organics.

“Obstructing my operations in any way you can, huh?” I shot back accusingly. “So, I guess we know what we’re dealing with here.” I began, as one of my survey drones began scanning what remained of the cyberbeast’s body; the first time they were able to do so in a way that would reveal the nitty gritty details of its form.

Preliminary scans had revealed it to be similar to the cyberbeasts above.

These secondary, more thorough scans, more or less confirmed that; as there seemed to be a lack of any heavy duty modifications which would’ve hinted at this thing being a mere platform for either an AI or an ex-situ wetware intelligence.

This left one conclusion… that it was an in-situ wetware intelligence, and thus, its entire existence was locked inside of that brain inside of it, instead of being stored somewhere else. 

However, it being an in-situ wetware sapient intelligence didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

Because by both it, and Addie’s own admission, it was created to serve the function of an administrator; which would imply a traditional AI. 

Which meant these claims were outright false, or…

“Listen, I know you are probably going to refuse to cooperate, but I’m going to ask nicely again… what exactly are you? And don’t give me the rundown you gave me before. I know you claim to be created to be this facility’s administrator. That’s what your brother told me as well. However, I need the whole truth. You’re not on the computer systems, servers, or anything else in this secondary facility are you? Which means you’re all cooped up there in that body. So tell me, what’s the full story here? I’m sure the felinor didn’t have the tech to program an artificial intelligence within a biological substrate. Moreover, I’m sure they didn’t need to, even if they had outside help. Adding more potential points of failure by integrating two fundamentally different administration systems isn’t a good combo when you’re running an experiment lasting centuries.” I laid out my arguments, before urging it to comply. “So just spill the beans on what you are, and the nitty gritty about this facility, before I force them out of the facility’s databanks.” 

My questions once more went unanswered.

Until finally, the beast responded. “You are an… observant one, interloper.” It began… but then ultimately stopped.

After another ten seconds of nothing, I began stepping up my game, as my drones, now free to roam the facility without any roadblocks, came across the server room. 

Bingo.

It didn’t take long for the drones to physically access the ancient server racks.

It took even less time for it to crack the primitive security measures, beginning a deep dive into the massive stores of data hidden within.

The details of the purpose of the secondary clandestine bunker was soon made apparent to me, if it wasn’t already apparent given Lysara’s logical dissection of the place. 

However, the more I looked, both in the files of the past, and through the atrium of the present, the more the results… disturbed me to no end.

“Evina, Lysara.” I spoke through the intercom. “I believe it’s in your best interests to see the true nature of the facility. That is, if you’re both up for it?” I cautioned, before earning some tentative nods from the both of them. 

It was with that affirmation that I continued, showing live feeds of what looked to be a well-kept, immaculately maintained scaled-down atrium… built for one. 

It had features that an organic in a post-apocalypse could only dream of having — from modern creature comforts all the way to recreational centers, there was no shortage of facilities that could keep an organic healthy and enriched for decades.

However, the closer you looked, the more disturbing the seemingly inane and innocuous sights became. 

First, were the signs, similar to the ones we saw immediately at the entrance of the clandestine facility; signs which kept hammering home the need for an adherence to strict rules, timetables, and routines.

Second, were the clocks, timers, and all sorts of timekeeping devices that weren’t too in your face, but which were present and designed to be a constant wherever you were. From the kitchen to the bathroom, and even the hallways and the closets, they were omnipresent, if mostly subtle.

Third, was the constant shine and polish to everything, which matched well with the perfectly-ordered nature of literally every piece of furniture, utensil, cushion, and stationary. It made the whole place look like some sort of a walk-in model for prospective homebuyers, or facility big-wigs. 

Everything was too well kept, everything was too well maintained, save for a few tiny discrepancies which hinted at some deficit in maintenance equipment or spare parts.

Which was surprising considering the main facility’s absolute surplus of supplies.

Then again, the fact that Addie had sealed off the door permanently from the outside, probably meant there wasn’t much flow of supplies heading into the sealed facility.

This might even explain the animosity between the two.

Regardless, the experiment ‘data’ more or less reinforced my suspicions on the immaculately-maintained facility. Footage was quickly displayed across both Evina and Lysara’s HUDs, showing the lives of various ‘subjects’ over the years going through the same routine, the same motions, following the same strict time table time and time again. 

They were all undeniably Eslans, clones of him, of course. 

The source of which, and the question of their existence, was quickly revealed to me as if on cue. As one of the drones found yet another hidden room deep within and tucked away behind one of the atrium’s many doors. 

Live feed from the survey drone revealed a complex operation that currently lay dormant. Rows of clear glass tubes filled with red-stained liquids lined the walls, whilst massive refrigeration units were recessed between each tube within the walls themselves. A short scan revealed that each unit seemed to contain some sort of frozen genetic material, though only a few samples remained within each unit, hinting at just how long this entire operation had been going on for.

The whole place was clean, sterile, and brutally clinical. There was nothing explicitly wrong about it, save for the knowledge of what had transpired here, and the lives created for the pursuit of some twisted experiment.

I wanted to remain clinical, analytical, and removed from these findings.

Yet similar to the recovery of my memory from those satellites, the parsing of information for an AI was close to instantaneous. 

The sheer glut of emotions I was experiencing as I analyzed and parsed through file after file was nothing short of overwhelming.

Being calm and composed was what I needed to do, if only to not drop the ball, leading to the collapse of the operation.

But that didn’t stop the emotions from being felt, of course. 

And at this point, it was nothing short of excruciating.

Evina and Lysara were already reacting as I’d expected of them, in complete and utter horror.

And they were only witnessing a fraction of a fraction of what I’d already parsed.

My blood would’ve run cold if I had any to speak of.

And my whole body would be shaking in place, if I knew which body to use for such a thing.

But I couldn’t allow emotions to take over my runtimes, especially as I was reaching the precipice of my analyses.

It took a few more minutes, but I’d finally gathered everything I needed.

What’s more, the drones I’d sent out earlier had discovered evidence that verified my earlier theory. 

The cyberbeast was indeed stalling for time at first.

Because in spite of its inability to protect its systems from my attacks, it’d apparently still managed to issue orders for a team of primitive drones to begin creeping down a tiny service tunnel, with a cable that seemed to be poised to connect its servers with Addie’s databanks.

“Right.” I began with another digital ‘sigh’. “So these were the original servers meant to store all the footage, data, and findings then.” I gestured vaguely in the general direction of most of the server room, most of which were running, some of which seemed to be completely dead. “However… these…” I gestured at another section of the room, one which was demarcated with a single white streak of paint. “... tell a different story. Right now, they’re hosting more of that data, that much is obvious. However, that wasn’t always the case, now was it?” I prodded, garnering no response from the cyberbeast. “Listen, we can play this game all day. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out your origins with enough time. And for me? Well… let’s just say I don’t need much time at all to finish up my detective work. So tell me, why’d you decide to downgrade? Did you want a taste of organic life? Or was your work so important to you that you’d risk it all for just a bit more time?”