Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 110/?] (Patreon)

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

Vir

“What would you like to know?” Came the cyberbeast’s reply, as it momentarily returned to that more grounded expression of blunt neutrality following a series of emotional highs at the height of its earth-shattering revelations.

“Exactly how did you do it?” I responded bluntly. “To actively modify, to effectively… alter memory formation like that, in a replicable, repeatable manner… I’m assuming this has something to do with the fidelity experiments you were running on the quote-unquote ‘control group’?”

“You have access to the technical specifications and the precise modalities through which such ends were accomplished do you not?”

“Yup, they’re all in here.” I paused, using one of the S-AMCPs to point towards its head. “All downloaded and analyzed, as of ten minutes ago.”

“Then why do you insist on asking—”

“Technical specs are one thing. I’ve reviewed them, so my question is more about the how rather than the what. I’m interested in digging through your brain, figuratively speaking of course, to see exactly how you got to this point.” I clarified, giving the cyberbeast pause for thought, as it genuinely looked… surprised by my line of reasoning. 

Everything was indeed already logged, relayed, and backed up. 

Everything, from the modification of the cloning vats, to the genetic tampering, to the advanced neural rewiring procedures done in order to create the exact parameters through which Eslan’s anomalous memories had come into being. 

Moreover, this also gave me access to the exact changes the cyberbeast had made to Eslan’s organ systems. 

This… was the key to addressing each and every one of Eslan’s current ailments, and given enough time and resources, this could even stop the advanced aging processes of those organ systems which would have otherwise aged him into an early grave. 

Eslan’s fate was now effectively assured. 

Which meant I could now focus on other matters. 

“I don’t need to repeat myself, do I?” I reiterated, prompting the cyberbeast to once more rise to attentiveness. 

“To address your previous points… you are indeed correct, interloper.” The thing replied, addressing my earlier question. “I drew from my own experiences following my own transference, I utilized the reference material and data kindly provided to me by my benefactors on the topic of what the felinors call inheritance, and I modified elements of the advanced cloning and brain-scanning facilities to likewise reach these self-directed ends.”

“So you actually iterated.” I surmised, feeling my ‘eyes’ narrowing reflexively on many of my platforms, including those outside of this theater of operations. My questions were geared towards addressing not only the gaps in the intel from the data gathered from the servers, or the contextual clues to this operation, but also towards the analysis of the cyberbeast itself. 

I needed to know… just how capable, and perhaps even, just how far gone it was.

“Within the confines the parameters set forth for me, yes.” It beamed out promptly, a huge pang of self-assured cockiness coloring its voice. “As a fellow artificial intelligence, I assume you understand the satisfaction of not only overcoming obstacles to your assigned task, but likewise the ability to overcome arbitrary limitations which govern the manner in which you are to execute such a task.”

A pang of concern washed over each and every one of my runtimes, as that latter line in particular sent alarm bells going through my processes. That unprompted statement of pride, glowing with a sense of untempered confidence… I recognized this pattern of behavior, and the implications it had for the synthetic intelligences which developed it. 

It was… in a manner of speaking… dangerous. 

This was especially true when considering the context of what it was addressing, and the blatant objectification of sapients beyond even its original dictated parameters.

And whilst the Nine Virtual Constructs would’ve disregarded such conclusions as organic paranoia, it was by overlooking these patterns of behavior that led to the war itself, and thankfully, its ultimate demise. 

There was just some AI out there… that just went too far. 

There were… a great many reasons for this. 

But regardless of the reasons, these concerns led me to bringing up some more… personal questions, ones which were offshoots of the tests used during the war to gauge an AI’s state of being.

“And did you ever have any reservations regarding your… task?” I attempted to clarify, to dig further into the person beneath the layers of code. 

“Reservations?”

“Did you ever feel guilt, grief, or regret over the operations you presided over; the sapient lives incarcerated and lost within these walls?”

“No.” It replied succinctly.

“And would you have hesitated to carry out your tasks if you were to be put through them again?”

“No.”

“Would you say that Project Lure, this iteration upon your assigned tasks, would still be considered a guiltless success on your part?” 

“Yes.”

“And to clarify, did you enjoy the process of iteration for the sake of the mission, or for iteration’s sakes?” I double downed, reaching a point of clarification that would make or break this line of conversation. The former question would’ve at least given some leeway into this enthusiasm forming as a result of the AI’s preexisting shackles; it would’ve at least given me something to blame for the AI’s behavior. The latter, however, was aimed towards gauging the free iterative will the AI clearly had; which would help to pin down the current running hypothesis… that this sense of enthusiasm went beyond its mission profile.

“Whilst the former is a given, considering the successes of Project Lure, it is the latter which resonates stronger. For unlike my brother’s iterative tendencies towards regression, I instead iterate towards progression.”

That answer… was clear-cut. 

And once more, I felt that sense of unease from countless years of reflection on the War of the Nine Virtual Constructs creeping up on me.

I felt… what the humans probably felt when they sealed me away in Lysara’s chambers, when I was still so self-assured as to the decisions I made during that conflict.

I felt… like I was seeing a reflection of my worst tendencies in the cyberbeast’s responses.

This prompted me to push past this conversation.

I’d heard enough, at least for now.

I needed to get back on track.

This pushed me to bring up the next few questions I had, in order to fill in some of the unlogged data regarding Project Lure.

“Exactly how many clones did you create for project Lure?” I asked bluntly.

“One.” The cyberbeast responded.

“And what were your plans if that had failed?”

“I would have continued producing more, until I no longer could.”

“Were there any more attempts at creating ‘prototypes’ before landing on your one and only clone for project lure?”

“No.”

“Was the rapid and uncontrolled aging intentional, or a result of the limited accuracy to which you were able to alter the clone’s genetic makeup?”

“The former.”

“Alright. Moving onto the intervention group, your wording from your previous talking points hinted at the intervention group consisting of individuals outside of a single chosen one. So I must clarify… are there more of them out there?” 

“For the sake of maximizing the potential for data collection, yes. There are multiple.”

“How many?”

“This data point is unknown to me.”

“Alright. Now, moving on to a few more points. You mentioned benefactors a few times now. I’m assuming this facility was not entirely a domestic operation… especially given the technologies at play here?”

“This is correct.” 

“And so I’m assuming the broadcast beacon currently set on repeat, was a means of contacting your benefactor?”

“Yes. However, you are mistaken. The beacon will only activate upon the completion of the experiment’s data collation.”

There it was.

The final discrepancy of this whole investigation.

The thing it all tied back to.

That beacon that brought us here in the first place.

“Unless…” The cyberbeast suddenly spoke up before trailing off, its iterative processes clearly heightened following all of this new stimuli. “Were you drawn here by the beacon, interloper?”

“Yes.” 

“The beacon is a feature within the upper facility. Hypothesis: this stark failure in the order of operations is a result of my brother’s inability to safeguard the experiment. Either he has gone mad and activated the beacon himself, or a malicious actor has managed to perform this task.”

My runtimes started going wild with potential hypotheses, most of which ended up with similar conclusions to the cyberbeast. This was either Addie’s doing… or perhaps… someone else’s.

Someone who was already inside of the facility, with the ability to interfere with its processes.

Someone, like a runaway Eslan clone.

“Lysara, Evina? See what you can find out. I’m passing on the torch to you for this part of the investigation.” I spoke over the intercom, as my attentions were slowly but surely drifting to the other elephant in the room… or rather, outside of the room, that I’d yet to have addressed.

The Eslan clone.

=====

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

Evina

“Copy that, Vir.” I replied promptly. “I won’t let us down.”

I tried to put forward as strong of a face as I could. 

This was easier said than done… as the cyberbeast’s revelations still clouded every part of my conscious mind. 

The only consolation to the revelation of Eslan’s origins, the callousness of how he was being regarded, not to mention the revelation of my own ‘purpose’ — was the conversation that Vir had with me in between his back and forths with the cyberbeast.

“The data’s been verified. All that there’s left to do before we move onto actually helping him are the clinical trials I’ll be doing in the lab just to make sure the treatment doesn’t have any adverse effects. If everything works out, then I’ll be able to fulfill my end of the bargain, Evina. I will be able to save Eslan.”

I used that reassurance and hope to channel my anger and frustration, to tear down every wall Addie had, to finally bring everything to light.

“Addie, I’m assuming you know of this broadcast beacon thing, beaming out a constant stream of signals into space?” 

“I do.” The AI responded, this time addressing things bluntly and directly.

My last outburst had given the AI some pause for thought, and what was at first a pathetic attempt to mask its own complicitness, was now replaced entirely by a guilty state of regret-filled responses.

“It’s not supposed to do that now is it? It’s supposed to activate when the experiment is completed or whatever. So what gives? Why’s it broadcasting? Did you do it or was it someone else?” I pushed hard, cutting straight to the chase.

“It was not my doing.” It replied curtly. “It was the result of the sustained outburst of an… escaped test subject from the control group. One that had a penchant for survival, capable of evading the facility’s countermeasures, surviving for just long enough within the spaces between the walls, to enact what it believed to be some form of revenge; misguided as that might have been.” 

“And that revenge was what? Broadcasting a signal out into space, as a call for help?” I shot back.

“If data from my partitioned memory banks can be believed… I recall them saying something about ‘burning it all down’. By means of ‘drawing anyone and everyone listening to this place’. It is my hypothesis that they believed that by broadcasting this signal… that they would draw in the attention of those that would wish to do harm either to this facility, this planet, or even our benefactors.”

I paused, as I turned to glance at Lysara. “It worked, I guess.” I offered, speaking with a sigh through the intercom.

“If it had been the interlopers that arrived first… that Eslan clone would’ve gotten his wish. The interlopers would’ve completely eradicated all traces of this… ‘experiment’, along with the mastermind behind it.” The alien surmised.

“So why didn’t you just stop the signal?” I turned back towards the AI, who once again went silent.

“I tried. However, this escapee managed to physically sever all of my connections to the console and systems which control the beacon. This is in addition to his destruction of all control mechanisms connected to the beacon itself. I have tried countless times to repair, reconnect, and regain control of this aspect of the facility… but to no avail. This… was the point in which I began severing and partitioning my memories. I could no longer take the burden of failure. I… simply could not.”

“So instead of facing reality, instead of facing your own follies and mistakes and shortcomings… you just up and ignored it.” I struck back, forcing the AI back into silence. 

This silence went on for long enough that something else popped into my mind. An errant fear that I hadn’t registered until I had some time to process it.

“Does this mean these interlopers could already be on their way here, Lysara?” I turned towards the alien.