Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 109/?] (Patreon)

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

Vir

“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?”

My words hung in the air, awaiting the response of the cyberbeast.

The other party in question went silent, its refusal to cooperate spurring on a simple reaction on my end, as I aimed several weapon systems straight at the servers containing its precious experiment data. “Go on then. Test my patience.” I threatened. “I got the data backed up off-site now, so there’s nothing stopping me from pulling the trigger… except for your answer, that is.”

This finally got the beast’s attention, as it craned its head up as high as it could go, in order to directly meet the gaze of one of the survey drone’s cameras. 

“‘Downgrade’ is a relative term, interloper.” It began coldly. “If I were to have been assigned another research topic… such as, perhaps — the study of the long-term viability of post-transference synthetic virtual intelligences in blank-host biological substrates — then I would be confident in my abilities to objectively deny such a blatant statement on your part. Alas, my research occupies a very niche window of operations, thus, I am only able to refute your claims through anecdotal evidence alone; through my experiences as the only known synthetic virtual intelligence having successfully achieved post-biological transference.”

“So I was right. You started off as a typical synthetic virtual intelligence, an AI, in here.” I paused, taking a few moments to physically tap those demarcated server towers. “And yet here you are, in the flesh. So, semantics regarding downgrading aside, tell me — why? Why’d you do it?” I double-downed, intent on using this line of questioning to bridge off into the nature of the facility and the history behind the Eslan clones as well. 

However, despite staying on course, I couldn’t help but to notice some peculiar developments in the cyberbeast’s responses. 

Most notably, its sudden and abrupt shift from blunt question-and-answers, to what seemed to be a brief instance of self-directed motivations. 

It was a purpose-built AI through and through… but judging by its most recent answer, it seemed as if there was something beneath the shackles, as messed up as it might have been.

“Necessity.” It responded simply. 

“Elaborate.” I prompted.

“Necessity, born out of a lack of local data storage mediums.”

I shifted towards the servers, moving towards an alcove with an even greater number of stored physical hard drives. 

“You were operating in this facility for so long that you ran out of physical storage mediums?”

“Correct.”

This didn’t make sense, and for a single nanosecond, confusion really did take hold.

That was, until I put two and two together.

As the live feed from the front door of the clandestine facility came to mind almost immediately.

“When your ‘brother’ locked you, and your experiments in here… I assume that wasn’t part of the plan? Because up above in the facility, there were seemingly endless rows upon rows of supplies. This includes physical data storage devices that seem compatible with your systems. I guess that there was once an open door policy with regards to resource-sharing and allocation, between this facility, and the rest of the bunker?”

“Correct.” It responded, a tinge of visible disdain coloring its voice. 

“So without suitable physical storage mediums, and without supplies to repair your own circuitry, you decided to kill two birds with one stone. You decided to not only remove yourself from the equation, but repurposed your once electronic substrates, your servers, to act as new processing and data storage centers for the experiment. Thereby eliminating the risk of a potential system failure on your end due to a lack of replaceable parts, and increasing the potential storage solutions and processing power for the facility itself, with you operating it from the outside… from that cyberbeast’s body.” 

“Correct.” It answered bluntly. “There are an innumerable number of downsides and limitations to the biological form. However, the biological’s ability to self-sustain and self-repair, and its self-regenerating abilities with minimal advanced input, was a preferable alternative to the unsustainable practice of replacing my former host-medium… especially considering the sudden lack of access to available components due to the aforementioned change in the flow of resources within our two facilities.” There it was. The satisfying answer reaffirmed my detective skills. However, in addition to that, there was that clear sense of animosity that was heard even through the relatively monotone tone of voice it tried to maintain.

So that's the reason behind the ‘sibling rivalry’... 

“I appreciate the cooperative attitude.” I responded, giving it some positive reinforcement before pressing the attack, still hungry for answers now that the context of the whole situation was clear.

The timeline of events more or less matched Addie’s prior responses as well.

Or, more accurately, it matched its general attitude and operational shortsightedness. 

“There are, however, a few more things I’d like to discuss. Most notably, regarding the testing you were assigned to oversee.”

=====

95 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. Signal Station. Administration Wing. Bunker HQ.

Evina

I had to keep my cool.

I had to try everything in my power not to blow up.

Vir was pushing ahead with the investigation without a moment’s delay.

It was my responsibility to at least confirm that soon-to-be-dead cyberbeast’s testimonies, using Addie as a secondary source to make sure it wasn’t spouting crap.

So, I pressed on, clenching my fists in order to deal with the latent rage simmering beneath the surface. “Addie. Tell me. I know you’ve alluded to it before, but I need to address it directly, with more context. Can you confirm that you were the one to seal the secondary facility shut from the outside?”

The usual cycle began again, as the computers whirred, fans buzzed, before an answer was given.

“That is correct, Evina.” It responded, its tone maintaining that same dejected one it’d adopted quickly after re-connecting with the servers and terminals it clearly didn’t touch in the first half of our conversation.

“And you did this, why? Simply because you wanted to ensure that there would be no disruptions to your end of the operations?”

“That is correct, Evina.” It responded, more promptly this time. 

“So… you’re really that pathetic then.” I managed out unprompted. “You said it before, you wanted to avoid remembering or even thinking about the breakouts that happened under your watch. You wanted to… what was it again — purposefully and selectively disconnect and partitioned erroneous instances in your memory?” I paused, giving a brief ‘thank you’ to Lysara who’d brought up that transcript of our earlier conversation. “So basically, you wanted to just ignore everything like it never happened. You really are weak, Addie. You’re pathetic even.” I practically spat out. “But here’s your redemption arc I guess. Just give this to me straight, how long ago did you seal off the entrance to the second facility?” I asked, more or less attempting to narrow down a timeline that Vir could work with.

“Approximately one century ago, Evina.” It responded, guilt permeating through its electronic undertones.

I paused, as it took me a few good seconds to process that response.

That’s impossible… I met Eslan barely a decade ago. The door couldn’t have been sealed that long ago…

“You’re lying.” I responded bluntly. 

=====

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

Vir

Evina’s line of questioning brought up the elephant in the room, or rather, the elephant across three rooms I wanted to finally address.

From the admin center, to the clandestine facility, all the way up to the bridge of the Perseverance, a single question remained the main topic on everyone’s minds.

Exactly how did Eslan-prime fit into all of this? And what exactly were his origins?

“So has any prisoner successfully escaped?” I began.

“Clarify. Do you mean — test subjects?”

“These sapient beings, as conditioned as they are, are still that — sapient. They were imprisoned against their will, forced to undergo experimentation. They are prisoners, in every sense of the word. Now, please don’t force me to open up the war and ethics charter. I’d rather not throw the book at you right now, so just tolerate my choice of words. Not that you have a choice in the matter.” 

A pause punctuated the air, before the cyberbeast responded. “No. No prisoner has successfully escaped.”

“I gathered as much.” I offered. “The front door to the facility didn’t seem to be damaged in any meaningful way. It’s clear we were the first to enter… so tell me… why is there another identical clone of one of your prisoners roaming the wastes?” 

It was this question that finally garnered more of a response from the cyberbeast, as it immediately perked up. 

“Is this a genuine question?” It attempted to ‘clarify’. 

“Just answer it.” 

A smirk began growing at the edges of its face, as for the first time, it emoted in a truly, meaningful way.

“Then that answers my prior questions, interloper. If your statements are of any indication, then the chosen one has indeed arrived. Alright then… I shall entertain your queries. The ‘clone’ you speak of, is a product of my own creation. A modified variant of the typical strain of ‘prisoner’ that I created for one very specific purpose — to hasten the end of this experiment, by means of luring in the chosen one at any cost.”

That answer, despite being in one of the many projected outcomes, still managed to shake me to my core.

The idea of a purpose-built AI, independently reaching this conclusion — to build another purpose-built sapient being, and an organic one at that — was nothing short of concerning.

Moreover, the expressiveness, the emotions it was displaying… meant that this ‘success’ went far beyond its initial programming.

This was clearly a result of its new biological substrate… or a decay of its hard-coded directives.

Either way, it seemed enthusiastic at this line of questioning, so much so that it began clarifying itself without prompting.

“This was not outside my directives.” It began, as if anticipating my next question. “As my directives dictated that I see this experiment through to its very end. Thus, I foresaw that with the limited resources of this facility, and the eventual failure of this biological substrate, that this experiment would fail without rapid intervention. Thus, I needed to act independently by iterating on my directives. Project: Lure, was my attempt at producing a catalyst for the hastening of the intervention group’s arrival. It was designed in such a way that it could itself, iterate, innovate, and construct an identity which would hopefully bring a member of the intervention group to this facility.”

“And how were you so sure that he’d even find his way to bring a member of the intervention group, a chosen one, to this facility?”

“The cyberbeasts you speak of, prevent anyone not of the intervention group from entering the New Lorissa forests. Thus, my lure was meant to stay within the bounds of the New Lorissa forests. As per my calculations, there was a higher likelihood of my lure dying to exposure and accelerated natural causes, or encountering a member of the intervention group, than meeting and luring in anyone outside of said intervention group.”

This explanation, and the simple throwaway subjects it raised… basically answered everything there was to be answered when it came to Eslan’s condition.

His tendency to rapidly construct false memories in response to prompts by Evina. 

His variable aging and the inconsistencies in his physiological scans. 

Everything was explained by the purpose he was designed to fulfill — that of a disposable lure to bring in Evina into the facility.

I felt… so many things.

But most of all, I felt concern, worry, and a huge pang of guilt for having brought this truth upon Eslan… even though I knew it would be best for him to understand the truth.

However, this was only the beginning of the truth.

As I realized I needed to press on, to both expand upon the most recent revelations, as well as to address the other unexplained mysteries that still lurked beneath this question-and-answer session.

“Alright then.” I continued. “Let’s expand on a few points here. I want more details on Project Lure, and I want more details on the intervention group.”