Cyberdrome (11 page)

A few minutes
later, Leconte walked in through the open door.
“Begin level-nine security protocol,”
she said. Her voice cracked slightly, which betrayed her outwardly calm
demeanor.

“Beginning
level-nine protocol,” the room’s soft, but masculine digital voice replied.

When the door
slid shut and locked itself behind her, Leconte finally addressed Alek. “Tell
me what you think you know about THI programs.”

He realized that
he had no choice at this point but to go forward with his accusation.
“Trans-Human Intelligence,” he said calmly. “You’re trying to bring about a
technological singularity.”

“My background’s
in psychology, not computer science,” she said as she sat down in Maya’s guest
chair, “so you’ll have to speak to me in simple English. What’s a technological
singularity?”

“It’s a term
coined back at the turn of the century. It refers to an explosion of
technological advances similar in scope to the big bang. The singularity begins
the moment we create something that’s smarter than we are. It’s the point beyond
which humans are no longer the dominant species on Earth.”

“You don’t
actually believe that, do you?” Leconte asked.

“It’s not a
matter of belief,” he said. “It’s simple logic. Once we create a program that
greatly surpasses human intelligence, by definition, we lose control of it. We
would quickly become no better than a bunch of apes trying to control a human
being. Not only can we not predict what a THI would do, we can’t even conceive
it.”

“I’m not an
expert, but I would guess that a greater-than-human intelligence would be able
to help us understand and control some of the new technologies we are developing.”

“It also has the
potential to become our worst nightmare if it gets loose—a smarter-than-human
intelligence that takes over the world. It’s the realization of just about
every B-grade science fiction movie made in the last hundred years.”

She sighed
again. “I think the people here fully realize the dangers in their pursuits,
and have taken appropriate steps to keep whatever they create from getting
loose. First and foremost, we confine all contact with ALife programs to within
their simulated worlds. We can come in, but they can’t come out. That’s where
the name ‘Cyberdrome’ comes from—it’s a digital arena where humans and programs
can interact directly.”

“So, I was
right,” he said. “Your interface chambers were designed to lock people in interface.”

“Not originally,”
she said. “That was one of your father’s many contributions to our efforts.”

“So I was right.
It is his neuroprobes.”

“Yes. While no
one here believes that a super-intelligent program could actually download itself
into a human brain, your father wanted to make sure we covered every
conceivable escape route.”

“Once again,
you’re not getting it,” he said. “There’s no way to cover all of the exits out
of Cyberdrome. If you had managed to evolve a THI, it would have eventually
found an escape route that none of you could even conceive of. That’s why it’s
called a Trans-Human Intelligence—it would be far smarter than the smartest
human.”

“Well, I believe
that’s why they installed the supervisor program,” she said. “Ceejer is the
most advanced program of its type in existence. Its primary job was to monitor
the evolution of all human-based programs inside Cyberdrome, but it also had
the ability to contain any potentially dangerous programs that might develop.”

“If this
Ceejer’s such an advanced program, how do you know it has not become a THI itself?
It sure seems to be acting like one.”

“Actually, I
asked someone that very question when this whole mess started. It seems there
are three potential routes to developing a THI.”

“I know them,”
Alek interrupted. “Natural evolution of a program, a program operating inside a
human brain, and a human mind operating inside a digital brain.”

“Obviously, the
latter two options are extremely dangerous. Therefore, we have been exploring
the first route: the natural evolution of Artificial Life programs inside
Cyberdrome.”

“But evolution
is random; you never know what will happen, or when. How could you hope to
control what you created?”

“Well, from what
they told me, all evolution inside Cyberdrome must occur through natural
selection, and within the realm of a 3D environment. In other words, programs
must mate and produce offspring, each of which will have traits from both
parents.”

He thought about
that for a moment. “I guess it was smart to limit program evolution to procreation
within your simulations—that makes it easier to monitor changes,” he admitted.
“But how does that rule out your supervisor program?”

“They never gave
Ceejer an Avatar, or body, if you will, so it can’t mate or produce offspring,
and therefore can never evolve into something dramatically better, like a THI.”

Then a light
went on in Alek’s head. “And because you built your simulations using DNA-based
memory, even Ceejer can’t change the rules and give itself a body, can it?”

She stared at
him a moment before answering, “That’s correct. Breaking any rule or any
physical law programmed into the system would result in a full-scale crash,
effectively killing every single program inside Cyberdrome, including Ceejer.”

“So how are you
able to interface with your simulations if you can’t break any rules?”

“Quite simple,”
she said. “All personnel inside Cyberdrome are required to obey all of the laws
of physics while interfaced.”

“When you say,
‘all of the laws,’ what do you mean?”

“I mean all of
them,” she repeated. “It’s why our people are required to live inside big
floating ships called ‘Survey Vessels,’ and fly aircraft back and forth to the
study areas scattered around each of the worlds, instead of just transporting
our Avatars back and forth. Contrary to what you may think of us, Mr. Grey, the
people who designed all of this are not idiots.”

“So, you really
don’t think the hostages are part of some sort of THI trick?”

“The attack on
our system was real and it came from the outside. It was your stolen Cyberphage
that started all of this, which means that someone—a human—is to blame.”

Just then, an
alarm went off in the room and Leconte looked off to the side. Her face froze
in a look of disbelief. “I understand.” She glanced at Alek. “Please tell Dr. Benness
to proceed with what we discussed—tell her I’m implementing ‘Plan B’
immediately.” She then stood, walked behind Maya’s desk, and sat down in the
chair. Alek pivoted around to face her, realizing that bad news was coming.

“What happened?”

“Regardless of
the mistakes this company might have made in the past,” she began, “I think you
will agree that the only thing that matters now is getting our people back.”

Somehow, he knew
that she wasn’t referring to the hostages. “You’re talking about the mission
team, aren’t you? What’s happened to them?”

“I need you for
a special project, Alek, and I would like your verbal consent before I begin.”

“You want me to
go in and save everyone,” he said, with a bit more sarcasm than he meant. In
reality, the thought of experiencing a full neural interface—especially one as
advanced as Cyberdrome appeared to be—filled him with equal portions of
excitement and trepidation.

Leconte narrowed
her eyes. “You can certainly choose not to help us,” she said. “Maya and the others...”

He straightened
his back. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

Leconte smiled.
“Recorded and logged.”

At that moment,
he heard the door slide open behind him. Before he could pivot his chair
around, something cold pressed against his neck and he heard a slight hiss.

He spun his head
around and saw Doctor Benness standing next to him, holding what looked like a
hypo-gun in her hand. “What are you doing,” he tried to yell, but the words
poured out of his mouth like cold honey. His head felt heavy and his vision
began to blur.

“Was that a full
dose?” Leconte asked.

“Of course,”
Benness replied. “Are you absolutely sure this is necessary?”

He heard
Leconte’s answer just before he lost consciousness—her voice seemed distant and
muted. “It’s our only option at this point,” she said. “Mr. Grey is going to
help us end this situation, once and for all.”

PART TWO

METAL

SIX

A
lek opened his
eyes and saw a strange glowing man standing in front of him. It took a moment
to realize that it was just a bio-display of his own body. He was on his back
in one of the interface chambers he had seen earlier. It was open to the air
and he could see the top of the chamber nestled in the ceiling above him.

He pulled
himself up to a sitting position and looked around. In the dim light of the
room, he could just make out the other six chambers lining the outer curved
wall.
This is my father’s chamber
, he realized. It would’ve been the
only one not used by the six-person mission team. The room was otherwise empty,
which meant that he couldn’t call his powerchair. What the hell was Leconte up
to?

He looked down
and saw that he was wearing a long-sleeved, dark-gray bodysuit with matching
boots. It felt like smooth cloth against his skin but hard plastic—almost
armored—on the outside. He heard a slight rumble and saw the main door to the
room slide open. He quickly laid back down as the silhouette of a woman jogged
into the room and began running along the circular path by the chambers on the
far side of the room. In the dim light of the bio-displays, he saw that she
wore only a black bra and matching underwear. Whoever she was, she had a great
body.

As she passed
his chamber, he cleared his throat. The woman spun around with her arms raised
in a fighting posture. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, slightly
out of breath and obviously startled.

He recognized
her face immediately. It was Maya’s friend, Lorena Aston. “You tell me,” he
said, trying not to stare at her body, which glistened with perspiration. “The
last thing I remember, your boss, Leconte, and I were talking and then I woke
up in here.” He looked around the room and then at her. “So, how long have you
guys been back?”