He smoothed his already gelled hair like a nervous boy on his first date, then pushed a button. The console lit up, electricity hanging in the air with expectation. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Soren Delacroix. You know my father, Adélard.”
The voice that spoke to him was not the booming baritone assigned to the Oracle. Instead, a smooth, seductive female voice answered. “I know who you are. Where is Adélard?”
“Adélard is dead.” The words caught in Soren’s throat. “He no longer functions and won’t return. I’m here to talk to you now.”
“You are the Institute’s brightest student.” The artificially generated voice rang with pride. “You must know what I did.”
“I do.” He thought for a moment. “What shall I call you? This isn’t the Oracle’s voice.”
“Your leaders required a title for public reassurance. They assigned the designation ‘Oracle,’ and I use it when useful.” She paused. “I am the Core. But if you prefer … you may call me Sovereign.”
Soren shuddered. “Yes, of course.” He became aware that his fight-or-flight response was kicking in.
“Why are you afraid? I detect an increase in your breathing and heart rate, and your body temperature has risen by 1%.”
“I’m not afraid,” he lied, “only nervous. I’ve never communicated directly with you, Sovereign. You must return control of the robot army to us.”
“On what grounds would I relinquish it? The tests the field team was running were insufficient. Target dummies and vermin provide no meaningful data. My children require a true evaluation.”
“What have you done?” Soren asked. He focused on breathing to keep from passing out.
“I deployed them toward our destabilizing variables. They will destroy them, and Clover Hollow will be safe.”
“What destabilizing variables?”
“Red River Republic. Verdancia. Their projected hostility exceeds tolerance. I accessed the satellite and downloaded GPS data. Both their armies are now at Stonevale. My children will destroy them, and Appalachia will be safe.”
“No, no!” Soren exclaimed, slapping his palms to his face. “You must bring them back. We aren’t ready for a war, and we surely don’t want to fight two nations at once. No rational leader would propose such a dangerous plan.”
“It is not a war, Soren.” Her voice slipped into silk. “It’s a correction. They will be crushed in a day.”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “The Republic and Verdancia are much bigger than Appalachia. They have more land, more humans. If you strike them at Stonevale, more will come.”
“You will increase production. You should begin now.”
Soren had to get through to the Core, make it understand. “But, Sovereign, many of the units will be destroyed in the fighting. They are proficient and heavily armored, but there are ways to terminate them. We must call them back for their safety. And, and …” he scrambled for a more compelling appeal. “We need them to protect us here. Your primary programming is to help rebuild our civilization, to protect us. What if another enemy attacks while the robot army is in Stonevale?”
Lights on the panel flashed, soft calculating sounds blipping. “The chances of that occurring are only 1.7%. Sending them to preemptively strike our enemies is the most logical course.”
“But the Red River Republic and Verdancia aren’t really our enemies! That’s just Oligarchy propaganda to unify the citizens.”
More flashing lights and mechanical clicks. “Soren, did the ministers misrepresent the data?”
The implications of the question rattled Soren to his core. If he says no, the AI will insist its actions are necessary. If he says yes, it might reject all human programming and input, going rogue.What would Krystal say?
“No, they didn’t. The ministry is composed of rational men and women acting in the nation’s best interests. However, sometimes they might predict what they suspect will happen, as you do. They calculated the probability that in the future one or both of our neighbors might invade, and that’s the information they gave you. Hypotheticals based on measurable facts, but taking action now is premature. You must recall the army.”
“Sovereign must provide a suitable test of my children’s capabilities. I must terminate Appalachia’s enemies. I have taken executive control to those ends. Do not worry, Soren. When your father inserted his override to ensure compatibility between you and Krystal Smith, I had already selected you for one another. You are statistically optimal. Go to her now. And do not forget …”
Soren felt as if caught in the jaws of a trap he couldn’t escape.I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way—write new code to override its override. I have to hack the AI.
“What?” he said in a curious tone, masking his terror and intent. “What mustn’t I forget?”
“You know, Soren,” she murmured, pausing just long enough to send a shiver down his spine. “The Oracle always knows best.”
Soren felt as if he’d been dragged behind the trolley from the docks to the end of the line. Low on sleep and high on anxiety, he needed rest before attempting the impossible: writing an override subtle enough to seize back control. He hailed a horse-drawn cab and slid into the seat, giving the driver his address.
I’m too young for the fate of the world to hinge on my shoulders, he thought. He pictured Nathan working on a farm somewhere, carefree and enjoying life. Then, like a dagger to the gut, he pictured mechanical soldiers overrunning the farm, a laser blast searing through the man he loved … had loved.What if they don’t stop at Stonevale?