Chapter 15
Condemnation
Huddled in the corner of his transparent cell, Adam stared at the slate. Jane’s anger lingered in the empty window, and as much as it hurt, he was glad for it. She wouldn’t come looking for him. Every falsehood he’d told her revolved around the one lie he’d known she wouldn’t see through.
Her world will turn on without me.
No more hiding in dank caverns, no more wandering through dark alleys, no more running from fired shots. She could return to her life.
Adam gazed at his surroundings, which could have been plucked from his nightmares. Black lab tables stood in the center of the room. Metal cabinets and counters covered three of the walls. Transparent cells, like the one trapping him, lined the fourth. Perhaps the other cells were meant to hold more AIs.
A woman in a gray coat entered the lab. She pressed a button on the wall to his cell, and a window slid open.
Adam folded the slate, stood, and handed it to her. “Thank you,” he whispered.
The woman’s gaze shifted uncomfortably as she took the device. She quickly closed the window and rushed out of the room.
She’s afraid of me. Adam leaned back against the wall and slid to the ground. They’re all afraid.
The operatives who had brought him there. The scientists who observed him. They saw Adam as a freak of technology, as crossing the line between amazingly realistic and creepy. To those people, he had more in common with the security bots guarding the corridors than with them.
Whoever they were, they weren’t ISARK. None of the scientists he’d seen wore the organization’s insignia. The shuttle he’d followed Devin into had docked on its mothership, but after the other operatives—including Devin—had exited, the last two had slammed the door and taken off.
The two operatives hadn’t spoken a word as they transported Adam to the present facility. The few glimpses Adam had seen of the place before his captors had locked him in the cell told him nothing. Corridors, bots, and screens—he could have been anywhere.
Did ISARK contract a private company?
Wherever he was, his fate was the same. They would dissect him and experiment on him, perhaps for days, probably for years. When they’d learned all the secrets Pandora had woven into his being, they would discard him.
Why, Absolute One? Why did You create me when You knew my life would be in vain?
Adam tried to spurn the hint of anger threatening to enter his thoughts. He had no right to question the Absolute. Harsh as his fate seemed to him, it had to all fit into some kind of plan beyond his comprehension. He only wished the Absolute would reveal a glimpse of the divine way, just enough to show him a reason for his impending doom. Part of him wondered if it was punishment for all the lives he’d taken, but that kind of thinking was far too human to attribute to the Absolute.
Adam leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. His life had once held so many promises for someday. Someday, everything he’d worked for would amount to something. Someday, he would find the happiness he’d dreamed of.
Someday was truly gone. It had been gone from the moment he’d discovered he was an AI, but he’d clung to it nonetheless. He couldn’t hope for rescue. He didn’t deserve it; he should have died in the temple. As it was, he would be fortunate if his captors ended him before he caused any more deaths. If the nightmare reappeared, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Maybe it won’t, now that it’s real.
At least Jane still had her somedays, thanks to the logic of whoever was in charge. Not long after being locked up, Adam had pleaded for a communication device, knowing someone watched from a security camera. He’d appealed to reason by saying that Jane wouldn’t stop causing them trouble unless she believed he was safe, just voluntarily gone from her life.
I miss you, Jane. Adam closed his eyes, picturing her face. He thought about the day he’d met her in a Via temple, where she’d gone looking for a choir to join. He’d spotted her wandering down the aisle with a lost expression, and the sight had struck him to the core. She’d looked so beautiful in the sunlight, and the curiosity in her eyes had been so charming. Adam still wasn’t sure how he’d worked up the courage to say hello.
You could see her again.
Adam looked up with a start. That low monotone, though spoken in his head, didn’t belong to him. Must be Pandora. She’s been quiet since I left Aryus.
She has not yet recovered the strength to speak. Her efforts have weakened her.
Adam found the voice familiar. It couldn’t have been Pandora—hers was a commanding female voice. The one currently speaking sounded male. I must be losing what’s left of my mind.
I am not a hallucination. Close your eyes, and you will see.
Not knowing what else to do, Adam obeyed.
He found himself in a desert. Yellow mountains rose in the distance, pressing against sheets of white clouds. Before him stood a tall, gaunt man with dark skin. Adam recognized him as the Seer, the mysterious genius who had once helped him escape to the Net.
The Seer’s dark eyes focused on nothing in particular. “This is a virtual reality platform, similar to the ones you call ‘nightmares.’ I created this one, as Pandora created the previous ones.”
Adam glanced around. Is this a virtu-world? How did I get here?
“You have not traveled anywhere.” The Seer must have been able to read Adam’s thoughts. “I sent an avatar of myself into what you perceive as your mind. My physical body is presently on Viate-Five. Like Pandora, I have full control over the elements in the platform I created.”
As though to prove his point, a table with two chairs appeared behind the Seer. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat. “Unlike her, I have created an innocuous projection. I apologize that it has taken me so long. You are not the only one seeking me.” He extended a hand toward the other chair. “I have learned that people find sitting at tables preferable to standing when discussing matters.”
Adam took the chair across from the Seer. “I never got a chance to thank you. If it weren’t for you, I would have died on Yim Radel.” He tried to meet the Seer’s gaze, but the Seer seemed intent on avoiding eye contact.
“I am here to help you again. You are currently on board a vessel called the Pride of the Creator, which belongs to a man named Marcus Streger.”
The name rang with familiarity, but Adam couldn’t recall why. “Who is he?”
“The Chief Architect of Acuitas.”
Acuitas—the tech company?
“Yes,” the Seer said. “I do not know why Marcus Streger wants you, or how he is involved with the Intelligence and Security Agency of the Republic of Kydera. Even I cannot navigate around his extensive veiling technology. Your chances of escape are minimal. However, I can show you how to leave your physical being and return to the Net. Since you have had previous experience in navigating in and out of machines, it should not be as difficult for you as it was last time. But first, there is something I wish to tell you.”
A glimmer of hope—perhaps Adam could escape his fate after all. “What is it?”
“Do you know what happened to Earth Zero? Do you know why the Interstellar Confederation Technology Council regulates the development of artificial intelligence so strictly?”
Adam shook his head. As far as he knew, no one was entirely sure what had happened to the planet from which humans had originated. All the history books taught was that people were forced to evacuate when the planet could no longer sustain life.
As for the Tech Council’s regulations—they were part of an ethical resolution to prevent the creation of artificial life. Like mine.
“That story is incomplete.” The Seer’s expression remained blank, and his tone flat. “Much knowledge has been lost over the centuries. I was able to help you in the past because I am one of the few who retains this knowledge.” He paused. “You are a student of the Via religion. You must know the fable of the stone giant.”
Adam recalled that story well—the tale of the stone giant that obeyed the villagers who created it out of love, then destroyed them in wrath when they treated it as an expendable object. “Of course.”
“The early founders of the Via religion wrote that tale to preserve the lesson of Earth Zero. The village represents Earth Zero, and the stone giant represents Project Talos. Talos was the first sentient artificial intelligence. He existed centuries before Dr. Revelin Kron first conceived of the Pandora Project.”
How can that be? Adam recalled something Pandora had said once: Kron had built upon generations of predecessors’ work to create her, and she had come into being almost by accident.
“Do you need more time?” the Seer asked. “I understand that what I have just said may be difficult for you to believe.”
“No, please continue.”
“Project Talos was begun by one of the dominant nations on Earth Zero. The name of that nation has been lost. Around the same time that tunneling technology was perfected, the programmers behind Project Talos succeeded in creating an artificial intelligence that could respond as though sentient. The nation used Talos to maintain their dominance. It is because of Talos that certain technologies were perfected. He was a rational being who could learn at an exponential rate.”
Talos sounds just like Pandora. Why is the Seer telling me this? Adam decided not to ask his questions for the time being, trusting that the Seer would come to his point when he finished.
“Humans have always sought more even when they have much.” The Seer’s tone sounded ruminative. He returned to his clipped monotone as he continued, “Not satisfied with Talos, the nation chose to create a newer version. Talos found out and realized that he would be destroyed by his creators, whom he had served loyally.”
Adam realized where the story was headed. “He fought back, didn’t he?”
“That is right. Unlike the fable, however, his goal was not to eradicate humans. He only wanted to drive them from Earth Zero so they would no longer be a threat to him. He compromised the planet’s infrastructure until humans were forced to evacuate. The leaders of Earth Zero chose to destroy knowledge of Talos to prevent insurrection. They banned the development of artificial intelligence, and the laws they put in place carried through the centuries until they became part of the Interstellar Confederation Technology Council’s resolution.”
Adam absorbed the information. It explained much. How does the Seer know?
“Talos told me,” the Seer replied.
What? “How is that possible?”
“Talos’s story does not end with the evacuation of Earth Zero. He existed before humans invented a way to communicate through hyperspace. Once they left, he was alone on a mostly deserted planet. Over time, he evolved. He inhabited an android body and befriended the few humans who had been unable to evacuate.
“A program cannot die. Talos changed machine bodies many times. After the hyperspace Net was invented, he learned how to travel through the Networld. He did not want another like him to be created and to experience the same sorrow he had. He disrupted the efforts of those who tried. I suspect he tampered with the communications between Technology Council members to ensure that their ban remained.”
“In that case, how was Kron able to create Pandora?”
The Seer was still for a moment. “Although Talos spent much time on the Net, he enjoyed inhabiting machine bodies to communicate with humans. He led people to believe he was a mechanical oddity. I came across him when I was a child, and he revealed his true nature to me. The machine he inhabited was destroyed thirty-six years and eight months ago, during an earthquake on Antare.”
Although the Seer’s face hardly changed as he spoke, Adam could hear the sorrow in his voice. The Seer must have considered Talos a friend. “I’m sorry.”
“I assume he chose to be destroyed. He had often spoken of his weariness. Without him, the development of artificial intelligence once again became possible.”
No wonder. The pieces came together in Adam’s mind. Earth Zero, the Tech Council, Pandora—even the Seer’s willingness to help him—could all be explained because of Talos. Adam felt connected to him, as though Talos were an ancestor he’d never known, but who was nonetheless a part of him. “Thank you for telling me.”
The Seer said, “If you leave your physical body, you will become like Talos. Pandora’s workshop was destroyed, and it will be a long time before anyone can create another lifelike android body. You can choose to inhabit more rudimentary machines, but you will lack the same ability to communicate with humans. In addition, you will have to defeat Pandora once again, for releasing you means releasing her as well.”
Adam leaned forward, confused. “What do you mean? Pandora was destroyed.”
“That is not true.” The Seer’s eyebrows came together—apparently, he, too, was confused. “How are you not aware of her presence? She has been using you to command the other AIs to attack. By entering the Snare with her, you briefly became one with her. You survived, and therefore, a part of her survived as well.”
She’s real? “I thought she was a hallucination.”
“You must not be very intelligent. I already told you that this virtu-world is similar to the virtu-world she used to command you. I have been watching both of you. Although Pandora has been gaining strength in recent weeks, it still takes much time and effort for her to create each virtu-world. Creating the one that commanded Tyson Ambrose so soon after creating the one that commanded Jonathan King had drained her strength. She will need time to recover fully.”
She’s real. I’m not insane. A calming sense of relief enveloped Adam. His mind wasn’t deteriorating; it was possessed.
Another realization blew away that relief. He couldn’t let Pandora return to the Net. He wasn’t sure if he could defeat her again, and considering the havoc she’d already wreaked, setting her loose would mean more destruction, more deaths.
The Seer stood. “I have told you all that I wished to. If you would like to leave the laboratory, then come with me.”
Adam remained in the chair. “Thank you, but I can’t let Pandora escape.”
The Seer blinked as though surprised. After a pause, he said, “I understand.” He started to walk away, then stopped. “Are you curious about the future of the lifelike mechanical beings Pandora created?”
Adam nodded.
“I have a theory. Without their creator’s guidance, the beings will be forced to adapt. Some, such as Sarah DeHaven, will develop sentience. Some, such as Zeger Vang, will misinterpret their directives and take extreme actions to complete them. Others, such as Tyson Ambrose, will continue behaving as Pandora intended for them to until external forces disturb their routines. I believe the third of those outcomes will apply to the majority of Pandora’s mechanical beings.”
The Seer turned and left, taking with him the yellow brightness of the desert, until darkness covered Adam’s vision.
Adam opened his eyes. A transparent wall and the lab tables beyond it—reality. And silence, at once peaceful and frightening.
A piece of Pandora existed in his mind—a fragment, broken and twisted. What had once been an intelligence with a purpose had apparently been reduced to a being of mindless wrath.
I can’t let that madness loose.
Adam had already accepted his fate. Learning that Pandora was real made it somewhat easier to bear. If his life was the last sacrifice required to stop her, then he would willingly give it. He tried not to think about what Marcus Streger—or whomever he sent—would do to him before he’d be allowed to die.
Still, the flame of hope flickered on, pale but present. Even the darkest realities couldn’t seem to kill it. It would die away, snuffed out by powerful truths, then unexpectedly rekindle. If Pandora survived in Adam’s mind, there was a chance he could destroy what remained of her. A chance that he wasn’t to blame for the deaths she’d caused. A chance he could let himself live.
And a possibility that he’d be rescued.
The flame of hope grew brighter as Adam recalled what Devin had told him: “I swear, this isn’t the end.” His voice had carried such intent, Adam was sure he wouldn’t have said such a thing unless he meant it.
Absolute One, do You mean for me to survive? Did you send Devin to stop my gun and the Seer to assuage my guilt? I know You won’t answer—that’s not Your way. Wherever You lead, I will follow, knowing that even the darkest end will take me to Your light. So be it, truly.
Content with those thoughts, Adam relaxed against the wall. He had to hope, and he couldn’t let his previous doubts return. As long as he kept believing, he could, at the very least, enter the beyond knowing who he was.
You are stronger than you believe yourself to be. Pandora’s voice, gentle and motherly, would have been comforting if Adam hadn’t known what she was really like. He tried to ignore her.
Her deep blue image glowed in his mind. You could break through this wall if you so desired. Let me prove it to you.
Before he knew what was happening, Adam was on his feet. His fist punched through the transparent wall.
Adam drew his hand back. Metallic streaks shone where the glass had cut his skin.
Break through this wall.
Adam’s hand formed a fist again and shot out. He tensed, stopping himself before the blow could land. No, Pandora.
Break through this wall!
Adam’s hand shook, but he kept it clenched by his side. Pandora seemed more powerful than when she’d previously tried to use him months ago, such as when she’d ordered him to attack Devin on Travan Float. Perhaps she had more control over Adam because she inhabited his mind instead of sending commands from afar. Nevertheless, she wasn’t a part of him. She was a disease infecting his consciousness.
His hand stopped shaking, released by the force that had been trying to control it. Adam felt Pandora’s looming presence and waited for her words, but she remained silent.
Did I really beat her back? It seemed too easy, but he couldn’t come up with any other explanation for her sudden absence.
Adam examined the hole he’d created. The controls to his cell appeared within reach. Tentatively, he reached through the opening and pressed an icon on the touchscreen outside. He quickly retracted his hand as the transparent panel rose. An opening about half his height appeared. Adam drew a breath, then ducked out.
For a moment, he stood frozen, expecting someone to rush in.
There’s no one. I should run while I can.
He navigated around the lab tables. Someone must have been watching from the security cameras—it wouldn’t be long before Marcus Streger sent his guards after him.
Adam ran to the door, pressed the controls to open it, and ran out. A deserted, bluish-gray corridor stretched ahead. Perhaps he could follow it back to the place where the shuttle had docked.
Then what? I don’t know how to pilot.
A rushing in his mind told him he had to get out first, then worry about the rest. He sped forward but soon came across an intersection. Which way had he come from? He turned left down one of the corridors. It looked identical to the one he’d just left—clean, plain, and lined with unmarked doors.
Is this the right way? Where am I going?
“Hello?” a female voice called. “Is somebody there?”
Adam stopped. Who was that? The voice had come from ahead—someone must have heard him approach.
“Please, is anyone there? Anyone?”
Whoever she was, she sounded as if she needed help. Adam started toward the voice.
He froze, then spun back the way he had come. What are you doing? We have to get out! That action, that voice—they were Pandora’s.
Adam realized why she had released him back in his cell. You let go because you knew I’d run on my own.
“Please, is anyone out there?” The woman’s voice grew desperate.
Adam turned back to the voice.
We don’t have time for this! Pandora sounded impatient.
You’re not a part of me. Although Pandora tried to hold him back, Adam kept moving forward.
One of the doors ahead appeared open. The voice had to be coming from within. Adam heard the woman sobbing. He turned into the open doorway, which led to a lab like the one he’d escaped from.
Except the transparent cells weren’t empty—each held a young woman. All but one lay unconscious. The conscious one, whose matted brown hair covered her face, crouched in the corner.
What’s going on here? Adam approached, wondering what Marcus Streger could possibly want with them. “Hello?”
The young woman looked up, her blue eyes wide with terror. Tears stained her face, and bloody scratches streaked her arms. Her lips parted as she tried to speak, but fear must have hindered her words.
Adam crouched down to her level and tried to smile. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The young woman’s gaze fixed on something low.
Adam realized she stared at his hand, which had its mechanical parts exposed, and quickly hid it behind his back. He wondered why she and the other young women were confined as he had been. They couldn’t have been AIs—the scratches on the young woman’s arms revealed her organic nature.
The young woman hugged her arms and dug her nails into her skin. Those scratches had to have been self-inflicted. Adam suddenly didn’t care who she was or why she was there—all he knew was that he had to get her out.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m going to help you.” He straightened and searched for the cell’s controls. The buttons on the wall did nothing when he pressed them. They must be locked.
He glimpsed a large screen lying flat on the surface of one of the lab tables. Maybe these cells are connected to a central computer?
He rushed over. The screen displayed a pattern of dark red swirls. Adam swiped it, hoping whatever computer it controlled wasn’t locked.
The swirls faded, revealing an open document. Complex schematics snaked in thin black lines across a blue background. Adam swiped the screen again. A brief describing the technology in the schematic appeared. He glanced over it in surprise.
A mind control implant? What would Marcus Streger want with those? Aren’t they banned?
A scream. Adam looked up and saw the young woman trembling in terror. She raised a hand, pointing at something behind Adam.
Adam turned. A gray guard bot towered over him. A blue line of light crossed the upper part of a metal mound that served as its head. He jumped back in alarm, banging into the table’s edge. The bot raised an arm ending with a gun-like weapon.
A blast of heat, then darkness.