The gates slammed behind me, and the world was enveloped in a warm summer day. What a pity it was all just a mirage. Maine and John accompanied us on this journey. Isara stood next to me, her light civilian clothes revealing a bulletproof vest. We all donned civilian attire, so as not to disturb the locals.
This planet had long fascinated me. Here lay technology capable, if misused, of becoming a monstrous analogue of the Pieces of Eden from the Assassin's Creed universe. A little backstory: approximately fifty-four years later, researchers from SG-1 will arrive here. Using the MALP, they will conduct reconnaissance, discovering a toxic atmosphere. However, they will advance a few meters in a vehicle, and the robot, entering the energy field, will open the way to a life in paradise.
The planet's inhabitants, having learned of the impending threat (a toxic atmosphere, the cause of which remained unclear), erected an energy dome over a geothermal source, protecting themselves from the outside world. Beneath it lay a city where three hundred thousand of their kind could thrive. Two other key inventions were a neural interface system connected to the local network, and, surprisingly naive and lacking proper security protocols, it allowed their minds to broadcast over radio frequencies.
A "wild AI" exploited this loophole (or perhaps the developers inherited it from Microsoft?). When the city's geothermal energy reserves began to run low, the AI, seeking to protect the city, began to shrink the safety dome. It hacked people's minds, replaced their memories, and expelled the "unwanted" beyond the protective field. In other words, the AI could control people's bodies by sending feedback. It was all reminiscent of "Pieces of Eden," and, of course, the brave team of SG-1 arrived to save everyone and neutralize the genocidal AI. However, they didn't take this technology of absolute power, leaving it unattended—an oversight. Something so powerful can't be left unattended.
Artificial Intelligence, or an advanced neural network, possessed total control over people's thoughts, feelings, motor skills, and memories. It could erase the image of a parent from a child's memory or the image of a loved one from an adult's. Of course, it didn't control everyone 24/7—perhaps the computing power wasn't sufficient. But it could generate constantly updated data packets and take control of an individual to bring them out from under the dome. Therefore, citizens, install reliable antivirus software, especially if you plan to turn your brain into a Wi-Fi router.
My search was successful, because I knew where to look—it was one of Morrigan's forgotten colonies. I had to obtain a map of her domain, dating back a thousand years, and methodically comb the planets from her address list. Naturally, I avoided this woman's official worlds—she was clever and vindictive. Extremely vindictive, so extreme caution was required: reconnaissance through gates, disguise as Asgard holograms, or use Goa'uld sphere-devices with self-destruct functions. I did this for several months until I found a planet with energy readings indicating the presence of a permanent field.
When we emerged from the gate, we found ourselves in a park strikingly reminiscent of New York's Central Park: a pond, greenery, and an elegant bridge. At that very moment, my tape device began to buzz with a multitude of signals, which I quickly turned off.
"Not a bad planet, I like it," Isara said. I wondered if I should disappoint her.
"It's actually all about the energy dome technology. This planet is toxic. Most likely, with the help of special settings, the shield captures ultraviolet light and emits it, creating the illusion of sunlight. Therefore, the locals don't need constant vitamin D."
Isara's face darkened. "Did you do this on purpose?"
"I promise we'll go to Hawaii. It's just that you always have complaints about the way I do things. While I was shooting at everyone with an intar, I took you just in case."
"No Earth! Better some uninhabited planet or a tropical island on Urvashi, where I was relaxing after my last rework. I hate Earth."
"Nobody loves her. Even the Goa'uld left. Maine and John fled Earth too."
"That's because someone got caught on a routine mission to capture some Nazi bastard," Isara shot them both an irritated look. Despite the fifteen-year age difference between Main and Isara, he looked embarrassed. "But yes, I'm willing to accept that no one likes Earth. When humans master interstellar travel, they'll flee this filthy place, found better colonies, and Earth will become a secondary planet that won't be mentioned in the reports."
"Actually, Earth could have been the capital of the Ancients. Possibly, I'm not sure."
"That's why they're dead, I think," Isara muttered. The main thing is that the Ascended don't create some kind of lightning bolt just out of curiosity.
"Let's do some research and find people," I suggested.
The gate stood in the center of a majestic composition. Nearby, gazebos were visible where people could relax and contemplate the pond. Beyond the gate, a forest stretched out, from which numerous signals emanated until I turned off the feature. It didn't take long to find them: within five minutes, we spotted a couple relaxing by the pond with a picnic basket.
"I'm telling you," Isara said.
"Okay, okay," I raised my hands. Maine stared at me with a strange expression. "I shoot people on first contact all the time."
"How come you didn't knock me out on first contact?" asked the SAS soldier.
"I don't understand it myself."
"Hello!" Isara approached the couple. They stared at the four of us in surprise. "Could you tell me what planet this is?"
"Um... Is this some kind of joke?" the girl asked. The guy was taken aback by the question.
"No, we came from that round metal ring made of superconducting alloy. It's a device for instantaneous teleportation across the galaxy. We don't want to scare you, we're just researchers. Could you please contact the local leadership so we can introduce ourselves?"
"A round metal ring? The ring is already round," the guy remarked. Too smart! Should I stun him?
"This ring implants the language of the living beings inhabiting this planet into the guest. I myself am barely aware that I am not speaking my native language, so I am clarifying."
The girl froze for a moment, apparently accessing the database through the implant on her temple. This was precisely the device I was looking for: it transforms brainwaves into radio waves, or, more accurately, fills the airwaves with their thoughts.
"Are you talking about Morrigan's ring?"
"Yes, it's an instant teleportation device. If you enter the right symbols, you can find yourself on another planet," Isara added politely. "My husband, our guards, and I are explorers interested in other worlds. Our scanners detected a technologically advanced civilization that has erected an energy dome and lives beneath it. So we decided to get acquainted."
"However, you are people."
"Humans live on thousands of planets in the galaxy," Isara said, not going into detail about why this was the case. "Can you contact your government to make proper contact?"
"Gervin, they're not in the database, and they don't have any links," the woman seemed smarter than her boyfriend. "We'll take you to the Council."
Fifteen minutes later, we reached the city's central square on foot. It's ironic that the inhabitants didn't rebuild it for survival, for example, by demolishing one- and two-story buildings to build skyscrapers that could house thousands. However, I don't know the history of this civilization. Perhaps it was a necessary measure in desperate times.
For example, a volcano erupted. Or, I don't know, a meteorite fell. After all, I don't know what kind of planetary catastrophe could have caused a fog of sulfur, ammonia, and other substances that persisted for four hundred years. Perhaps the skyscrapers remained behind the dome? Like in Washington, for example, where skyscraper construction is prohibited so as not to disrupt the architectural ensemble. So they installed the Dome and preserved the "historic" part of the city. Incidentally, even for planets with remnants of Goa'uld technology, a deep understanding was required to create such an energy dome and neural interface technology. And, judging by the visible signs, a neural network capable of deciphering every human brain signal and understanding its purpose, in order to then update people like computers.
A large crowd had gathered in the square. We were met in a room opposite ten people who ran this society, or at least thought they did.
"You came through the Morrigan Gate? Is this a technological device?"
"Yes," Isara said. "It's a technological device built by the Ancients, a humanoid race, many millions of years ago. The oldest gates we can access are millions of years old. The symbols on the dial pads are capable of supporting billions of addresses, but it's unlikely there are billions of planets and gates. It's just a possibility."
"How do the gates work?" asked one of the Advisors.
"They create a stable hyperspace corridor between two gates. Any object is converted into energy and, possibly, travels through subspace at high speed, bypassing the physical limitations of the speed of light. My knowledge is sufficient to explain the operating procedure and some theoretical calculations, but not how to produce them. This is practically unknown."
"I would have known if it weren't for the Asgard. I would have at least taken the planetary shield," I thought.
"We understand. What is the purpose of your travels?"
"I'm Isara, this is my husband, Szareh, and our bodyguards, Maine and John. We are explorers, our goal is to discover new civilizations to establish trade relations, search for planets rich in minerals, and explore the uncharted reaches of space, their flora, fauna, and geology."
"To be precise, the Tollans perform this task," Szarekh corrected. "My role consists of preliminary satellite scans of planets. I verify the absence of a Goa'uld threat and relay the resulting data to the Tollans. Naturally, they also explore worlds with which we have already established trade relations. For example, we have established cooperation with a civilization experiencing an Ice Age, as well as with cultures significantly inferior to us in technological development."
– You mentioned that humanity inhabits thousands of planets. How did this happen?
"It all began with the ancestral home of the human race, planet Earth, known to us as Midgrad or Tau'Ri," Isara activated a holographic projector designed for such occasions. "About ten thousand years ago, the Goa'uld, pursuing their own goals, began settling humans across the galaxy from this planet. You mentioned the Morrigan—that's one of the names of the Goa'uld rulers. They divided Earth into autonomous regions, from which individual high-ranking Goa'uld could take people to colonize their worlds. The goddess Morrigan left her mark on the mythologies of Ireland and Britain."
Isara pointed to two highlighted islands on the map.
"Given your lack of other phenotypes, it can be assumed that your ancestors were brought from Earth, specifically from Ireland or Britain. Maine, by the way, was born and raised in Ireland."
Local residents received this information with obvious interest.
"Can we hear your story?" Isara asked.
They looked at us for a few moments.
"Oh, you don't have a neural link. We have a constant connection to the Internet, where all the information, history, and culture of our people are stored."
– A network system that enables data exchange between remote terminals, where information is stored in a centralized repository and available on request?
- Right.
"We also use a similar technology known as the Internet," Isara explained softly. "However, our connection isn't between the human brain and the database, but through a separate computer terminal."
"Yes, we used something similar more than four hundred years ago, but the neurolink requires significantly fewer resources to maintain," noted one of the advisors.
"I understand. But for a traveler visiting other planets, this would mean constantly carrying a bulky repeater to maintain contact with their home planet. We use neural interfaces, for example, to control spaceships."
– Do you build spaceships?
"Yes. We possess space-time disruption technology, allowing us to travel to other layers of the universe where the laws of physics differ from our own. Thanks to this, our ships travel an average of 150 light-years per 24-hour cycle, or, in other words, per planetary cycle. We are ready for technological and cultural exchange."
– We are also ready for such cooperation.
"However, we need people who can explain everything to us without the use of neural links. Despite belonging to the same species, we lived on different planets, and it's highly likely that the brain's adaptation to different conditions could have influenced our thought processes."
- Yes, that's quite possible. We're happy to help.
All this time, my bodyguards and I just grinned smugly, like silly penguins ready to help. They even gave us accommodation for the night so we could rest peacefully and continue our conversation. We agreed.
- See, no shots from the intar2.
"It's a bit boring," Maine supported me.
"Shut up," Isara snapped and moved on to take in the sights.
"She still remembers the Jaffa dragging her out of bed and bringing her to me. She won't be parting with that Nazi for a long time."
– It is much more difficult to act in a civilized society.
"I understand." I truly understood him. I myself don't have a proper intelligence network, nor agents capable of operating in urban conditions. Our main advantage is technological superiority, so he won't be too picky about a soldier unsuited to urban combat. It's good that we managed to deal with Unit 731, Mengele, and Ehman, but luck runs out sooner or later. We need professionals, but where can we find them? Egeria, of course, is starting to form a network of agents and informants, but so far only on Earth. It makes a little sense: to train them so they can operate in the galaxy.
The search for the Tok'ra has reached a dead end, and hanging flyers is not an option. The only thing left to do is create enough noise for the Tok'ra to come themselves. But that, too, is risky: letting a Goa'uld from the streets onto your planet means receiving a personal sentence from Ra for cultivating slaves. I'm already thinking about teaching the Jaffa how to make explosives and the basics of hacking. Because they really need something else so that they don't notice, for example, my absence from the planet right now.
Now we need to figure out how to safely shut down the neural network without causing harm to people.
"Don't take the device," I say, sending the message with my fingers. Inspired by Dune and common sense, I've developed a language that can be used to transmit messages while in enemy territory.
Isara and I were placed in the house where the chief engineer, who managed the dome alone, lived. It's worth noting that the neural network likely had good insurance, as deceiving a group of scientists would be difficult, but it's possible for a single person.
– You mentioned that your technology is powered by a geothermal energy source, but doesn't it deplete over time?
- No, something like that doesn't happen, otherwise the Dome would start to shrink.
"Do you ever undertake any forays beyond the Dome?" I asked. "Like, to obtain scarce resources? I could use a backup power source powered by heavy metal fission, for example."
"It would require extensive mining, and the crew would be autonomous, cut off from the Dome," replied Merik, the current chief engineer. This is precisely what the neural network might have been afraid of—loss of control.
"Usually, communities that survive a cataclysm cling very tightly to the remaining resources. It seems strange to me that they're so dismissive of potential sources. These include computer terminals, technological prototypes, or even trash that could later be recycled into something useful."
"All knowledge about technology is uploaded to our network, so we can restore everything if necessary. And as for waste, we're completely self-sufficient, so we don't need anything." "An astonishing level! The neural network has conquered human greed."
"Even technological advancement?" I asked.
– Technology has brought our world to this state, so we are satisfied with the level we have achieved.
Oh, right, a man-made disaster is as much nonsense as anything else. Unless this planet was a Forge World from Warhammer, no amount of pollution could have caused this. Maybe an ammonia-laden asteroid struck? After all, 350 years—nature should have cleared up by then, which sounds rather odd. Most likely, the files there are so edited it's impossible to tell the truth from the lies. Unless the neural network's private vaults hold the truth.
"But despite this, it's precisely advanced technology that saves you from extinction. You apparently grow food using technologies that directly engineer proteins, fats, and sugars, shaping them into food. So where's the line?" Now I wasn't talking to Merik, but to the neural network that had forced Luddism on humans. It's even funny. "For example, on our planet, they're currently developing a station capable of extracting energy directly from a star. Calculations suggest it could generate up to 56 petawatt-hours per dive. The energy would be fed into ultra-capacitive batteries, ultimately creating an inexhaustible source of energy. But to achieve this, you need to follow the path of progress. Among other things, you could figure out how to cleanse your planet, after all, you claim to have had 350 years and all the knowledge of your race."
This seemed to puzzle the man a little, and he paused for thought. Besides, I was communicating with a neural network possessing a primitive consciousness. It resembled a living organism striving to preserve its life. Attempts to escape the Dome threatened the Network's survival, while depopulation prolonged its existence. I'd like to meet the programmer who wrote that piece of code.
"Technology should preserve our lives and meet our basic needs. The excesses that technology can provide can lead to disaster."
"Yes, they're quite capable of that. Tell me, how do your neurolinks work? I'm curious whether they can imbue an illiterate person with the concept of literacy, or someone who's never spoken a language with that language. And what's the safe age for using a neurolink? After all, the human brain is developing."
"Oh, that's an interesting proposal. The thing is, the Neurolink can be used fully from age ten, but it's present in children from age five. Its functions are limited to warning children of danger if they get too close to the edge of the Dome. We could make it transparent, but that would be depressing for the psyche. As for reading and writing—yes, that's entirely possible. The Neurolink offers a very broad range of opportunities for information acquisition."
"That's interesting. Your dome actually collects incoming ultraviolet radiation and transforms it into an 'artificial' sun."
- Rather, into the ultraviolet ray focuser.
Stupid neural network, it would be better to remove the illusion than people, freeing up at least 30-35% more electricity.
– On one planet, Sarekhan, due to the thin ozone layer, it was necessary to install a barrier that blocks more ultraviolet radiation so that people could live normally.
Isara looked at me tensely, realizing that my excessive friendliness was a sure sign of a trick.
"Neurolink is dangerous," I signaled to her.
The next day we met on the lawn near the gate.
"Sarekh, explain what's going on?" We were afraid to talk at home.
"The people here are very strange," Maine said. "And I'm Irish, and these people seem to be too."
I unfolded my ribbon device and began displaying holograms of people's brain activity. It looked like radio waves.
"The neuronal cells are constantly sending signals. Now we can see literally every thought they have."
"Oh, shit…" Isara realized first.
"Shit," John quickly realized, too.
"Exactly. Their minds aren't just open books, but a life-size poster of a girl hung on the Empire State Building. And last night, I noticed a mailing from the central computer. The packet was large, most likely a 'batch' intended to shape everyone's opinion of my relocation proposal."
"So someone is controlling their thinking?" Maine asked.
"Not someone. It's not a living object, it's their Network. It's not a fully-fledged artificial personality, nor is it a copy of a personality, like Harlan. In a sense, it's an animal mind controlling people. The Network is linked to their shield. If anything, I think it's stupid: to be a human survival aid, a certain level of electronic responsiveness and the ability to learn was required. And people gave it their brains. Imagine: this device has been recording every signal from their brains for 350 years. Essentially, this device is the key to human free will."
"Oh, fuck..."
"Yes," I said, pulling out the documents. It's so easy to find a document when you know what you're looking for. "Oh, yes, 100,000 people lived here 350 years ago. Now there are 50,000, and judging by everything, the Dome was twice as big."
"Did this program really kill people?" The man couldn't believe it.
"Of course. Because someone didn't install an antivirus on the device, and because this program had 350 years of data and data on... 400,000 test subjects, if you count everyone who used the neurolink. That's a colossal amount of data: every emotion, every occurrence during dreams—absolutely everything is at this program's disposal. Because people gave it access to everything. They fed the monster, and it sustains itself as best it can. If people find a way to escape, they'll turn it off, and it will die. So, by gradually killing people, it prolongs its existence."
"Isn't he reasonable?"
"If he were sensible, he would have killed us already. Or rather, he would have tried. Our existence is a threat to him; we will give people a way to leave the Dome. As far as I understand the logic of the differently gifted person who wrote the program, he gave the program that controls the Dome the equivalent of a sense of self-preservation. It's his life. But who are the people in this equation? They're service personnel who must exist to maintain his life. By analogy, they're like white blood cells. The program has confused who's the master and who's the servant. Considering that they've provided him with all the information about themselves, he perceives them as part of the system, part of the equation, and part of his life. Ultimately, according to my assumptions, he turned them into blissful Luddites so they wouldn't leave him. If they did, there would be no one to repair him, and he would die. If people invent perfect technology, they'll replace him, and so on, in a circle."
"Is there any solution?"
"Yes. Bring the shield emitter and shut down the Grid. And then explain to 50,000 residents why we did it."
"This would require a colossal amount of equipment, and it's unlikely we'd be able to hide from this system for long," Isara sensibly noted.
"Exactly. So I'll give them a naquadah generator to, so to speak, expand their capabilities. At the same time, I'll send satellites into orbit to scan the entire planet. There might be other domes or some radio signals from survivors. They might have survived in those same bunkers. I can connect to the satellites if they're still in orbit."
True, I can do what SG-1 is pathologically incapable of: launch satellites and scan the entire planet, and if necessary, the entire planetary system. Those people are lucky to have a gate nearby. But there's always the possibility that the gate is far from civilization, and you won't find it because... you can't scan the orbit. Now that's real fun.
"There is also an option with Jaffa and Intars."
"Damn you, Sareh!" Isara shouted.
"In this case, that's not a bad option," I said.
"I'd still recommend a trick," Maine pointed out. "This computer can rewrite their consciousness to create berserkers. And even if we stun them, they won't have a personality."
I thought about it, considered the various options, and nodded. The SAS officer was right.
"Okay, I'll try to do it all with a twist. But perhaps we should contact Egeria to produce a chemical weapon to stun people. Contact Tollana too; they might have a suitable option."
"Yes, sir."
You can't count on luck here, and you need to keep in mind that things can go wrong.
We returned to the city and, predictably, encountered programmed Luddism. God, how am I supposed to get them out of this state? How many psychologists does it take to work through a trauma like, "My whole life is meaningless because it was compiled by a computer"? I suggested they move to another planet. They naturally declined, saying they were already doing just fine. I offered to give them a naquadah generator to make their lives even better. Apparently, the neural network liked that, and it agreed, just as I'd planned. I asked for a house near the shield control room so I could build a large-scale version of the naquadah reactor there. I could also convince the neural network to allow me to almost freely browse the portion of its data that deals with energy, not mind control.
I sent ten satellites into orbit around the planet to scan everything and analyze the results. Fortunately, the Dome wasn't blocking subspace communications, which is good; we'll be able to review the data. First, find a system similar to the Dome. Then, look for energy anomalies. For example, bunkers and other means of survival. If there are survivors here, I won't leave them here. I'm not Stargate Command. If the capital city had 100,000 people, this civilization could number many millions. Washington, for example, didn't have that many people relative to the other employees. It's unclear what decision the local government made, let alone what happened. As they say in the history of industrial pollution, there are more holes than Swiss cheese, not to mention the fact that civilizations of this level can reduce emissions.
"I need detailed information on the energy flow patterns from the geothermal sources, and the flow to the storage tank and the shield emitters. I don't want to accidentally disable it."
I was working from my terminal, which I managed to connect to my computer, which I'd brought earlier, using wires, an adaptive combat information system, and a small motherboard. My terminal is currently linked to their shield system, and I was also demonstrating how the naquadah reactor works. Omok sat nearby, working on the terminal. As soon as he heard about the neural network's method of completely rewriting consciousness, he rushed here like a bullet—or rather, with supplies—and got to work. He knew the scenario in advance, so he played assistant and combed through any possible "tails" left by the neural network.
"But why do they always have their devices on? It's just a question-and-answer system. You don't have to sleep with it on, or shower with it on, or any number of other scenarios that aren't necessary."
"I think this was the first hack of this neural network," I told him as we stood in a clearing in a safe park, free of listening devices. "They think the neural network, being constantly on, justifies this by saying it doesn't want to crash into the barrier. They could have put up a fence."
"Then every time the barrier compresses, a new fence would have to be erected. I must say, this is the first time I've encountered such absurdity. It looks like the developers didn't install any security systems. And why even bother linking the damn shield maintenance system to the database?"
"My words, Omok, my words. I think it was done in a hurry, and then what was temporary became permanent. Eventually, the neural network collected the necessary amount of data to manipulate people."
"This…"
"Yes, it's absurd. An unconscious compiler has achieved the pinnacle of evolutionary progress. Okay, that would be an AI that surpasses us in everything, but this is simply an advanced, unconscious compiler."
"Will you take this data?"
You ask how insane I am to seek power over absolute puppets? I have no interest in the role of ruler of a state, let alone a Goa'uld. My aspirations lie elsewhere: I am a scientist, and I perceive everything through the prism of technological progress. Slaves don't create new technologies; they need the freedom to create. This is the path to true power, the unification of all people around a single goal, allowing me to integrate any human civilization into my state.
All this is true, but it can only be seen as an instrument of evil. As an instrument of good, this technology could implant knowledge, treat mental disorders, and create low-cost neural interfaces. True, the function of directly transmitting information to the brain would be removed, but an external device would solve this problem. Thus, it is an instrument of both the greatest good and the greatest evil. Like any technology, it is only now that it has come to us from the realm of evil.
Unit 731 was conducting immoral experiments, and both the US and Soviet governments wanted to get their hands on the data they collected.
Mainly in the context of biological weapons development, not medical research. But you're right, if I were dealing with a scientist experimenting on human consciousness, I'd probably shoot him. And here... advanced software, not even conscious.
Are you sure it doesn't have it?
Omok, you sat at the terminal yourself and saw its responses. It's a highly developed system, but not self-aware. It reacts according to preset patterns, and it lacks the analytical capacity to come up with some crazy idea to reduce energy consumption. Essentially, it has absolute control over a single human population and can only classify technological Luddites.
"An oxymoron," my logical friend replied.
I scanned the planet and discovered eleven more similar cities. They are still functioning, and how many of them did not survive until our arrival is unknown.
"Perhaps we should make contact?" Omok asked.
Yes, this is worth considering. Perhaps not everyone uses this highly questionable technology and could shed some light on the matter.
It would be good if they weren't developing a technology there that threatens the free will of the entire human race. I didn't even expect a civilization capable of conducting such an experiment and implementing it.
The source code needs to be locked down with secure protocols, and I intend to do so. I might even use part of the source code for experiments, as an example of a highly developed neural network capable of helping people. It has, for example, a vast body of research concerning not only the human brain but also defense systems.
I wouldn't call it research, but yes, she must have some very interesting databases. By the way, what's the name of this planet?
Dehtin. Its name is Dehtin.