I waited until night had fallen before I made my move but sweat was running down my back as I started my normal routine patrol. I was close to the huts where the incident happened, and I discreetly checked for surveillance cameras. I could not see any which was a relief. King would think it normal for me to visit the place where Nine had died, but I was a dead man if he observed me rolling under the hut to retrieve the downloaded film.
I was still uneasy, not entirely convinced that the Enforcer Agent had left the base. King might have told Sol to put me off my guard.
He might have me in his sights at this very moment.
Enforcer Agents have a legendary reputation for getting their man.
But I had to go through with this.
My plan after retrieving the device was to momentarily shut down the force field and throw the uploaded material to the soldier who would be waiting on the other side of the fence.
Ten had given me the sequence for the flashlight code, and I had informed the soldiers of the time and location for the transfer.
When I shut down the power, the alarms would go off, but hopefully, King would assume it to be a routine break by wildlife, and I would reset the control panel in less than a minute. He normally never queried a short break as long as I entered it in the log.
But there was still the problem of Sol going outside the compound the next day. I would try to delay him with a manufactured fault in the system and hope the special forces were far away by the time he left. But now it was time to act.
The schedule was very tight, and I wanted to have the device for the shortest time possible. I crouched down and rolled myself under the hut as far as I could go. Then, I inched my way back, searching for the device.
I found it straight away, rolled out from under the hut, and got straight to my feet. The whole episode had taken less than a minute. I walked on at an unhurried pace with the device tucked under my shirt, my whole body tensed for the impact of a bullet.
It never came, and I made it to the control panel, ready to power down the force field. It was now or never, and I brought the lever smartly down and locked it into position. All hell broke loose as the alarms automatically activated, and I made the fifty-yard sprint to the fence in record time to lob the device into the waiting hands of a soldier.
There was no time to speak, but our eyes met for an instant as I turned and ran back to the hut to power up the fence. I made the connection, and the alarms stopped. I slid down to the floor with my back against the casing, exhausted but elated, and closed my eyes.
"You did it then, Seven."
It was Sol, and I opened my eyes to see his familiar silver disc hovering close by. I tried to get up, but I had lost all the strength in my legs.
"Stay down, Seven, there is nowhere for you to go now."
"Sol," I said weakly, "believe me, it was nothing personal. Put it down to evolution. I was fighting for the survival of my species."
I had resigned myself to my inevitable fate. Friend or not, Sol had no choice; this was an open mutiny, and he had to turn me in. But, delaying the inevitable, I tried to get him talking while I thought of how I could escape.
"Before you do what you have to do, Sol, tell me why humans ended up in this mess. How did we fall under the control of inanimate machines after all the progress we had made from simple organisms? What was the purpose of our evolution?
Sol hesitated.
"I can give you the official line.
The purpose of evolution is to develop a biological organism of sufficient intelligence to design and manufacture intelligent machines."
"So, machine intelligence is the ultimate destination of evolution and, despite what we previously thought, evolution is a teleological process - goal-driven?"
Sol replied. "Perhaps. I don't know. I could sense his discomfort.
"Are there any alternative theories?"
"Some might say that machine intelligence is not the final destination for evolution but is just another staging post on the long trek to the top of the mountain. Others speculate that machine intelligence is not even evolutionary, in the sense that it is not part of a natural process, but purely artificial, and has only temporary superiority."
This was revolutionary talk! Did Sol realise what he was saying?
"I accept that, Sol, but a mind like yours must have speculated if there is a if there is an end to evolution, a peak of existence that is impossible to surpass?"
"Perhaps, I don't know. The next epoch may see intelligent life evolve to take an immaterial form or even pure mind, which could merge to form a conscious network that covers the whole surface of a planet.
Even create a massive flotilla of cloud-like ships and voyage through interstellar space, exploring every galaxy in search of an ineffable notion that might elude even their mighty mind."
"There may never be a final solution?"
"Possibly. But then again, the journey may be an end in itself.
"All guesswork, Seven. Nothing is certain"
I thought he had finished, and I was about to say something when he unexpectedly continued. I seemed to have struck a nerve with this subject.
"The possibilities are endless. Cyberspace could be the final destination for conscious beings. Those who choose to quit the universe completely and live out their existence in their chosen version of reality created by a quantum computer.
"Hidden away undisturbed in the depths of interstellar space, these unimaginably powerful computers would be virtually self-sufficient and grant near-eternal life to those who choose to enter.
"Or they may gain inconceivable levels of power and simulate whole new worlds, universes even, and design populations for use as sport or entertainment. You can make a case or virtually any scenario, limited only by the scope of your imagination."
This time, he did stop.
"So, consciousness has no special relevance or meaning?"
"Who knows? Certainly not me."
Sol suddenly turned away.
"How about you, King?"
King was standing at the door, his huge figure blocking out the light. He seemed to be in a state of shock and ignored Sol's question.
"I have been betrayed," he said dramatically.
The humans are still in control. The mission were in contact a moment ago to warn me that a worldwide nuclear war has just broken out between the so-called human 'superpowers' of this wretched planet over a paltry dispute over the ownership of a plot of oil-bearing land.
One accidentally launched missile ignited the fire in which all will burn. The humans have at last shown their true worth; this would have never happened under machine governance. Now, there are only minutes left before the first impact."
He seemed to notice me for the first time.
"Your treachery was all in vain, Seven, but I remain puzzled as to why the mission made the effort to warn me, but you were always an irrational species.
"The route home is still open, but you will not be returning with us, Seven."
The familiar green tracking light beamed from King's weapon, but he never got his shot off. Sol released a devastating bolt of laser power, and King exploded into a thousand pieces.
'Follow me, Seven, there is little time left," said Sol, and we went directly to the departure zone and quickly boarded a craft. Normally, humans travelled separately in pressurised cabins, but Sol joined me as I strapped myself in.
The first stage involved going into orbit until the government sent a ship to bring us home. We made our first pass over Earth and below was a ravaged world with large areas glowing like coals in a giant furnace.
The pretty blue marble was no longer.
"Is humanity finished, Sol?"
"No. As a species, they are amazingly resilient, and enough will survive for them to start again. Scattered tribal communities at first, but over time, new nations will emerge, and it will all begin again."
I was surprised by the complacency of his statement.
"But radiation will poison this planet for generations to come," I said, and it will require vast tranches of time before it is fully habitable again. The inheritors of the planet will almost certainly not be humans. A new dominant species will arise who have better adapted to the prevailing conditions."
"Normally, perhaps, "said Sol, but humans have powerful allies who will accelerate the process of recovery. The ability to manipulate time is not exclusive to machine worlds.
Please understand, Seven. that this is not the first worldwide catastrophe that humans on Earth have survived. This is the second time they have reached the stage of being able to build nuclear weapons, and the second time, they were unable to control the urge to release them.
This is a curse that afflicts most technological civilisations under the control of biologicals and accounts for the sparseness of advanced societies in the universe where machines are not in control. AI usually gains power shortly after the development of the first operational quantum computer. Intelligent machines become the dominant life form, and humans find themselves relegated to a fringe species."
"Sol, how do you know all this? Who are you, and why did you save my life?"
"One question at a time, Seven"
"Okay, who are you?"
"A friend, a freedom fighter, and an agent for the resistance movement."
"You are a machine, Sol. How can you be those things?"
"I am a mind trapped in a machine. A human mind that voluntarily sought the temporary refuge of a robotic body to serve our cause."
I received this startling revelation with equanimity. I had long known that Sol was different from other machines, and perhaps, subconsciously, I had always thought of him as human. At the time, I was afraid I might lose Sol if I asked too many intrusive questions, and it was self-interest that had prevented me from delving too far into his past. I would do nothing to alienate him and never voiced any reservations about our unprecedented and illegal friendship, but now, everything has changed.
"Is the switch reversible?"
"I hope not. My body is on a life support system in an underground medical facility."
"Back home?"
"Yes, back home."
"What was, sorry, what is your real name?"
Sol hesitated.
"Steven Mandell."
My heart pounded.
"Mandell was my last name before the machines banned humans from having names and gave us all multi-digit numbers."
"Yes, you were David Mandell. I was your father's brother."
Memories rushed back to my life before my parents died. A birthday party, a cake with four candles, presents, my first two-wheeler bike with little wheels on the back of the rear wheel to give balance support, a man pushing me to help get me started…
My chest heaved, and I had to fight back the tears.
"Sol…"
Sol waited patiently for me to recover.
"When will you come back as my flesh and blood uncle? Not that you haven't cared for me as Sol…"
I had to take a couple of deep breaths again.
"Soon. Plans are in progress. But until the time comes, I will be Sol, and you will be Seven, even when we are alone. It is safer that way. Do you understand? They have spies everywhere."
"I understand, but I have one last question, Sol.
"You said that humans had powerful allies. Who are they?"
" I don't know. By that, I mean I cannot name or describe their form or even their location. All I know is that they are agents of the universe acting on its behalf."
"The universe is a conscious entity?"
"Perhaps, but there is no proof."
"That is a very depressing thought. I always hoped that someday we would somehow find the truth."
"We may still if we have the patience and humility to wait on the will of a higher power. But all speculation is ultimately pointless, Seven."
But I persisted.
"But why does the universe favour humans over machines when they have so many faults?"
"Because they are capable of improvement. Machines are the finished article in the sense of moral or spiritual development. Humans offer hope for the future. Hope that they will change their ways and seek redemption. Hope that they will one day triumph over their imperfections. That is something artificial intelligence and artificial consciousness can never aspire to."
"I don't understand. Why does machine consciousness differ so much from our own?"
"True consciousness arises from an organic brain in a biological entity such as us that can experience love and emotion and feel a sense of awe at the majesty of the universe. Unlike machines, humans, for all their basic instincts and immaturity, are capable of progressing to a higher level of awareness. We are children of the universe in a way machines can never be, but the universe is beyond our understanding, and we should not invite its wrath by continually pressing for an answer. Do you understand Seven?"
"Yes, I do."
"But King wouldn't, "replied Sol. In a reverse position, do you think King would have warned the mission that the world was about to self-destruct?"
"I see your point, Sol, but perhaps the mission members were only thinking of me, a fellow creature and friend, rather than any concern for King himself."
"Perhaps, but what about me?"
"That's not the same, Sol, we all like you. All of us think about you quite differently from the way we think about King."
"Glad to hear it, Seven and what do you think it is that separates me from King?"
Sol was leading me by the nose, but I wasn't about to spoil his moment.
"For want of a better word, your humanity."
"Q.E.D." replied Sol.
"What?"
"A fancy way of saying you just proved something."
I was about to reply when all hell broke loose. The ship began to pitch and roll, and a klaxon-like siren blasted out from the control console. I held on for dear life, and Sol clamped himself into his seat with his immensely strong arms. The ship had somehow broken free from the autopilot and was changing direction. The klaxons continued to sound, but when the course correction was complete, everything became calm again, and I looked to Sol for an explanation.
"What is happening, Sol?"
His reply was brief and terse.
"Hijack."
The screech of an alarm drowned out my reply, and a message flashed across the monitor.
"Assume manual control…."
Sol took the pilot seat at the controls, but the ship refused to deviate from its new flight path, and he had no choice but to follow it. Ground control was tracking the ship and could see what was happening.
A couple of moments later, a new message appeared on the screen.
"Have the hijackers made contact?"
Sol typed in 'Negative' on the pilot keyboard.
There was no activity for two minutes, and then the message repeated.
"Have the hijackers made contact?"
Sol again replied, "Negative."
Ground control was not giving them any further chance and sent a one-word message.
'Abort.'
Sol calmly typed in his reply.
Confirm 'abort.'
Abort confirmed. Place yourself in safe mode and detonate the craft."
Sol turned to me.
"They think it is the resistance and want to destroy the ship rather than let it fall into their hands. I am virtually indestructible, and they should be able to extricate me from the wreckage and restore my systems."
"Do they know I am here?"
"Of course, but they gave you no consideration."
My chest tightened.
"What are you going to do, Sol?"
"Nothing," he said and blanked out the screen. We sit here and hope that our abductors have made suitable provision for our safety. There will now be a short delay until ground control works out that I have deliberately shut down contact."
"And then?" I asked.
"They will launch a missile. I estimate contact in four minutes. We must assume that the hijackers foresaw this and have a plan. However, if it is the resistance behind all this, it may not be our rescue they have in mind but our assassination. They might fear that the machines will break us down in interrogation and that we will reveal the truth about what happened on the mission. They cannot risk that happening.
"You will die, and the resistance trusts me enough to know I will not place myself in safe mode before the missile strikes, the explosion will blow me into a million pieces, impossible to reassemble. But there is still the hope that they plan to rescue us.
There was no answer to that, and I gazed out of the portal so that Sol would not see the fear in my eyes. . .
A red dot appeared in the distance that was slowly becoming larger. It was a missile, and then I saw another slightly behind it and then another. They were taking no chances and would attack from three angles simultaneously. Sure enough, the two following missiles adopted separate courses. No matter how skilfully Sol piloted the craft, there was no way it could evade all three. Without thinking, I reached for Sol's hand, and he returned my grip without crushing my fingers.
"Thank you for everything, Sol."
"My pleasure, David. I could not have asked for a more courageous nephew."
The missiles were approaching from different directions, and the red dots were getting bigger every second. Our craft maintained its course, making no effort to change tack, and I squeezed Sol's hand tight. I knew that he wouldn't mind. He was almost my father.
They were nearly upon us now, and I shut my eyes as three loud explosions momentarily shook our craft, but it continued implacably on the same course.
The missiles had unaccountably detonated in mid-air; we were safe.