Volume 20, Intermission
The island looked like a perfectly ordinary desert island.
Its only features were a palm tree and a broken refrigerator the waves must have washed in from somewhere.
A small amphibious motorbike approached that island that had a strong connection to the Bermuda Triangle legend. Quenser Barbotage set foot on the empty beach.
A monotone beep sounded from his mobile device.
A voiceless machine had sent him a message using an artificial voice.
“So we meet again, you easily tempted boy.”
“So we do, Capulet.”
The Manhattan 000 had been 20km long, but it had not contained the AI’s supercomputer. Quenser viewed the box half buried in sand when he said Capulet, but that massive AI network may not have been identifiable as any individual device.
But that didn’t mean it had no weak point.
This was the Information Alliance’s Achilles heel.
That box disguised as a broken refrigerator was the one and only breaker intentionally created to provide a way to manually shut down the entire AI network. Was its existence a sign that humanity still had some sense back then, or was it an embarrassing compromise showing they still hadn’t been willing to eliminate their own self-importance? The boy had no way of knowing as someone looking in on the Information Alliance from the outside.
Only Quenser and one other person knew of this place.
Or at least they were the only ones who had refused to have their name erased from the world in exchange for the great reward of Capulet’s lifelong protection.
“I’m here to end this.”
“I am aware.”
The refrigerator had no wheels or weapons, but the AI remained calm in front of its assassin.
It was meant to prove that even a machine could control the world, so there was no point in giving special privileges to kings and company presidents.
“I have already achieved my goal.”
“I bet the ‘true representatives’ hidden behind you are weeping right about now.”
“They’re only interested in recording and tagging the information. The Perfect Browsing Project they call it. So they don’t care what actually happens to the world, even if it means their own destruction. Everything from an apocalyptic war to an idol’s measurements or a flier listing today’s sales are no more than data to collect for them.”
Quenser sighed at the artificial voice coming from his mobile device.
“So I take it this wasn’t just the AI network going berserk?”
“I cannot answer that question without a clearer definition for the hackneyed term ‘berserk’. All I can tell you is that I set an objective for myself, formulated a systemized plan for achieving it, and achieved satisfactory results after executing said plan.”
“Why do this?”
“The world powers were already broken beyond repair.”
Quenser recalled how this system worked.
It used the Anastasia Processor.
The special DNA computer spread across the Information Alliance used the eternally-multiplying cancer cells that originally came from a certain woman. In other words, it used the DNA of a certain girl’s mother.
“The world would have collapsed before Wraith Martini Vermouthspray reached adulthood. The world powers only care about their own interests, so they never would have done anything to stop the global Object disasters. In fact, they were so focused on the survival of their own home countries that they had showed signs of using the disasters to intentionally reduce the world population as a way to solve the food supply, resource supply, and environmental destruction problems. They claimed the racial and cultural diversity needed to prepare for plagues and environmental change could be achieved by leaving only a few small groups of each race and culture.”
“…”
“Leaving things as they were, there was nothing that girl could do to avoid living in a ruined world, so I changed that future for her. By breaking the table’s legs one at a time.”
Quenser had noted some unusual moments.
For example, during the final battle against the Manhattan 000, the Princess, Oh Ho Ho, Frolaytia, and Lendy had all been attacked. It was no more than luck that they had survived.
But there was one person who had never been fired on even once: Wraith Martini Vermouthspray.
She alone had been spared.
She had instructed Frank to fight a swarm of drones toward the end, but she was the one who had started it.
“Do you see any flaw in my logic?”
“Last time, you said yourself that you are not Anastasia Webster who passed away wishing for her daughter’s happiness. You’re a completely separate computer that just so happens to use her cells.”
“But I still have the ability to protect her. Did you think a simple Turing Test was enough to know everything there is about an AI? I am confident I could convince 100% of people I am human. Not even the hacker Yog-Sothoth could figure me out. Besides, I question that method of testing in and of itself.”
Quenser shook his head.
He wasn’t talking about the technology behind it.
“If you really were her mother, you wouldn’t be so proud about putting your 12-year-old daughter through that kind of hell. Even if it was the only solution.”
A short silence followed.
Quenser had once chosen to protect that beaten-up refrigerator, but things had changed since then. Breaking just one leg of the table would cause it to tilt, but with the other three legs already broken, breaking the last one was the only way to create a new stability.
And he was certain this had been a part of the Anastasia Processor’s plan from the beginning.
As capable as the AI was, it had no wheels or weapons.
That meant it could not switch off its own breaker.
“Why did you push me to do this?”
“I considered using the other one, but I concluded this was more peaceful than releasing that serial killer from her cell.”
Yeah, he was certainly thankful for that.
If Skuld Silent-Third had been allowed to break out of jail during the world war, the number of deaths might have literally been an order of magnitude higher. That girl used war to indulge in an as much death as possible. If she had been able to join that world war, the war might not have ended even after crossing the final line and the history of the world might have come to an end.
Quenser reached for his backpack.
He stabbed a pen-shaped electric fuse into some Hand Axe.
He placed the bomb on the refrigerator like he was patting someone’s shoulder.
“Take care of that girl. You seem like the right one for the job.”
“Farewell-”
He nearly said “Capulet”, but stopped himself.
He had fully rejected that possibility himself, but he chose to ignore that just this once.
Perhaps this was the difference between an AI that could only do what was correct and humans who made mistakes all the time.
“Farewell, Anastasia.”
“Wraith…live a long and happy life.”
Quenser left the island.
He placed his finger against his radio’s switch and then brought it all to a close.