Seeker, page 24
Ella shook her head. “I don’t know about you, Ben. Sometimes you’re brilliant, and sometimes you’re really dumb.”
She gestured to a medical bag nearby, which she had found in one of the Iranian’s backpacks. Their nine-man force was large enough to have included a medical technician, who had come well prepared. Without another word, Ella removed a large capacity syringe from the medical bag and twisted a fresh needle onto its end.
Kagan nodded slowly. “I see how it is,” he said. “You’ve been carrying extra respirocytes in your veins, haven’t you? Good place to hide them,” he allowed. “But I can’t let you deplete your own supply for me.”
“Very gallant of you. But don’t worry, I have a greater density than I need. I’ll give you a few pints, and this should have a dramatic effect on your respiration and endurance. I calculate you’ll be able to hold your breath for twelve to fifteen minutes. Respirocytes are universally compatible, so no blood type matching is necessary.”
“Let me get this right,” said Kagan. “You looked as if placing a comm in your ear was a hardship. And now you’re proposing a battlefield blood transfusion?”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” she said. “This is going to suck. But you’ll notice your life changing after only a few minutes. The respirocytes will load up on O2 and do their thing.”
“Should prove interesting.”
“You have no idea. I know you think Ory is addictive. But wait until you get used to having four times the endurance of a doped Lance Armstrong. You’ll never want to go back. And if you ever get a full dose, like I have, words can’t even describe it. I feel more oxygenated after not taking a breath for forty-five minutes than you do after you’ve just inhaled.”
“Are you sure you want to dilute your own supply?”
“Positive. But just because I’m sharing body fluid with you,” she added in amusement, “doesn’t mean that we’re married or anything.”
“Right,” said Kagan. “It’ll just be a routine sharing of artificial blood between friends.”
“Exactly,” replied Ella with a smile. She handed him the syringe. “It’s easier if we do each other,” she said. “I’ll walk you through it.”
Kagan nodded.
She directed him to a vein on her left arm, had him line up the needle, and then explained how to slide it in, bevel up. She scowled in pain on his first clumsy attempt, as he used too much force and missed her vein entirely, looking surprised that it had punctured her skin at all.
“I’m enhanced,” she complained, “I’m not Superman. It’s not like my skin can break needles. So be gentle, and it’ll slide right in.”
“Sorry about that,” said Kagan sheepishly.
“How about using some of that superhuman focus of yours.”
He nodded and tried again, this time succeeding. He carefully drew up the plunger, filling the syringe with bright red liquid.
“No way your respirocytes look this much like real blood,” said Kagan. “My compliments on the mimicry.”
“Thanks. The respirocytes seal wounds pretty fast, but you still lose some after an injury. Can’t be leaking silver blood every time I get a papercut.”
“I can see where that might arouse just a tiny bit of suspicion,” he said with an amused smile.
“Are you ready?” asked Ella, holding out her hand for the syringe.
He nodded, but handed it to her with obvious reluctance. She took the full syringe and injected it into one of Kagan’s veins, slowly and carefully. They repeated this process eight times, filling the syringe from her veins and emptying it into his. And the transfer seemed to get more unpleasant each time.
“I’ve shared body fluids with women before,” noted Kagan halfway through the procedure, “but I’ve never shared a needle with one.”
“First time for everything, I guess,” she said. “My hope was to live forever, and during all of this eternity of life, to never have to share a needle. I guess this will make a banner entry in both of our diaries.”
He was about to laugh when the respirocytes, diluted though they were, began to work their magic. He closed his eyes for several seconds, luxuriating in the profound vitality he was suddenly experiencing. “This is amazing,” he said in awe. “I’ve never felt this good. Not even close.”
Ella nodded. “Now you know why Dracula is so addicted to blood,” she said with a smile.
39
Ella set off on the initial one-mile course that Seeker had provided, an Iranian’s machete in hand, although the jungle here wasn’t so dense that she needed to swing it just yet. Both Americans shook their heads in disgust as their path brought them past the gory remains of the magnificent Jaguar that an overzealous Aussie named Julius Barton had destroyed. But after less than three minutes this carcass, the small lake, and the collection of exotic birds disappeared behind them.
They spoke to each other in just above a whisper, to draw as little attention to themselves as possible, while their comms converted this whisper to full volume in their ears.
“The drone you used to find me was well within fifty yards of you when the Aussies showed up,” said Ella. “Can I assume you kept it close, and operable, while we made our way to the lake?”
Kagan nodded. “That’s right.”
“Which means you have it flying along with us now, don’t you?” she said. “And given your personality profile,” she added, arching an eyebrow, “you’re doing the gallant thing and having it keep an eye on me while it also acts as a lookout.”
“Nobody likes a know-it-all,” mumbled Kagan.
“Wishing for the old Ella?”
“Not so much,” he said with a smile. Then, serious again, he added, “It’s time we began our strategy session. But before we do, what are the odds that Seeker is listening to every word we say?”
“A hundred percent,” replied Ella.
Kagan nodded grimly. “I was thinking 99.9—but I respect your conviction. Do you suppose it can read our minds?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. But for some reason I don’t think it is—or will. That wouldn’t be sporting. Even for it. But it’s just a hunch, and I could be dead wrong.”
“I agree with your hunch,” said Kagan, “but we need to proceed as though you’re wrong. To be on the safe side, we have to assume everything we say, hear, and even think is an open book to this thing.”
“Agreed. But I say we don’t stress too much about it. We have more than enough to stress about, as is. If you come up with a eureka idea to get us all out of this, keep it to yourself. But even if Seeker is aware of our plans, this doesn’t mean we can’t stop it.”
Kagan sighed. “Yeah, it’s more likely we can’t stop it because it’s an all-powerful entity. Because it can wield technology so advanced that we’re like a bunch of Neanderthals with spears going up against the US Air Force.”
Ella sighed, but chose to otherwise ignore this pessimistic, but accurate, assessment. “I say we begin with an examination of first principles,” she said. “Let’s question everything we think we know. And then question our questions. And then question that.”
“Okay,” said Kagan. “Let’s start at the beginning. The first moments that Seeker communicated with us. You said you had some theories as to how this was accomplished.”
“I’m thinking nanotech,” said Ella. “Nanotech that puts our fledgling attempts to shame. I could be wrong. It could have used some sort of electromagnetic technique, for example, like microwave radiation, so exquisitely directed and controlled that it could cause the precise vibrations needed.”
“But you don’t think that’s likely,” said Kagan.
“No. I think it used the equivalent of nano-drones. Countless trillions of them, physically sent to the locations of all five or six hundred humans out here. Drones the size of bacteria, or smaller, but collectively capable of vibrating the air.”
She paused. “This is just a hypothesis, but I’ve worked shoulder to shoulder with the world’s best nanotechnologists, and I know the capabilities they fantasize about. They envision nanites that can convert raw materials at the atomic level into everything the nanites need to replicate. So one nanite can quickly grow into trillions, or even quadrillions. And I mean quickly. An E. Coli bacteria, which was once the principle workhorse of genetic engineers, can make a copy of itself in twenty minutes. So one E. Coli can become a million in seven hours. And each of these million can produce another million in another seven hours.”
“So one becomes a trillion in just fourteen hours,” said Kagan.
“That’s right,” said Ella. “And advanced enough nanites can theoretically do this even faster. Once you have as many trillions, or quadrillions, as you need, they can collectively work as erector sets, assembling anything you can imagine using atoms as building blocks, from quantum computers to aircraft carriers.”
“Are you convinced Seeker has something like this in its arsenal?”
“I am,” said Ella. “When it spoke of its information library, it mentioned nanotech as one of the technologies it can provide to the winning team. And if it really is the product of a species that reached the singularity, achieved transcendence, this sort of nanite would almost be a given. Technology indistinguishable from magic—times a billion.”
“And this would explain how Seeker disappeared an Iranian corpse,” noted Kagan.
“Disappeared an Iranian corpse?” said Ella. “What are you talking about?”
After confirming that Ella had missed this grisly demonstration, Kagan quickly described it.
She shuddered. “Seeker tried to give me a demonstration, telling me to watch a large fish nearby. But at the time I was focused on working my way closer to shore, preparing for a stealthy exit from the water, and I ignored it.”
She frowned. “But this confirms my hypothesis. Nanites for sure. To build items atom by atom, nanites also have to be able to deconstruct things the same way. So dissolving matter like this would be the most basic of tasks for them.”
They hiked on in silence, both deep in thought.
“Seeker tailored its message to hundreds of different people,” pointed out Kagan after almost twenty seconds had passed. “In numerous languages. Not hard for a computer to multi-task like that. But everything about how it mastered so many languages, and peppered its presentation with intimate knowledge of our lore and history, suggests to me that it’s already sucked down the Internet. Maybe before it landed, maybe after.”
“I agree,” said Ella.
“So do we believe what it told us? About the so-called Androms? And about the ASI that defeated them?”
“We don’t have much choice,” said Ella. “I think we’re forced to operate under the assumption that it’s telling the truth. But remain wide open to the possibility that it isn’t.”
“Let’s say we believe it, then,” said Kagan. “Every word. If this is the case, why don’t we believe what it’s doing here is truly the best course? Seeker’s version of tough love. We’re both determined to defeat it. Determined to save the billions it intends to kill. But should we be? Or should we be focusing every ounce of energy on ensuring our team comes out on top? Whatever that even means.”
“I can’t believe you’d even ask that,” said Ella.
“You were the one who said we should question everything. That’s all I’m doing.”
Ella stopped moving forward and turned, looking Kagan in the eye. “I apologize,” she said. “You’re absolutely right. And with respect to this question, there can be no good answer. All I can say is that for me, even if wiping out most of humanity really is the best long-term course, even if it really is critical for the survival of our species, I can’t support it.”
“I can’t either,” said Kagan. “But I didn’t want to leave any stone unturned, which is why I posed the question. I’m not about to stand by and let most of humanity die, even to prevent its extinction millions or billions of years from now. If salvaging our species requires this kind of carnage, I’d rather let the chips fall where they fall.”
“Good. So we’re agreed that, even if we knew for sure that Seeker’s strategy was the best course of action, we’d be against it.”
Ella tilted her head in thought, and then shook her head. “But the thing is,” she continued, “we can’t ever really know that for sure, anyway. And Seeker can’t either, as powerful as it is. And although we’ve decided to proceed—for now—as if it’s telling the truth, we can’t know its true motivations. We have trouble predicting the motivations of our fellow humans, and this is an AI from another galaxy. Who knows how it thinks? How much of its agenda is purposely hidden?”
“Good. Maybe we’re getting somewhere, after all,” said Kagan. “We agree that we need to stop Seeker at all costs. And we agree we have no good idea how to do this. So it seems to me that until we come up with one, our best course is to try to win this contest. We can’t stop Seeker if we’re dead. And if we win and gain partial control of it as a reward—which it promised would be the case—perhaps we can get it to spare humanity. So this has to be our primary goal.”
“Agreed,” said Ella. “At least until we can think of a more direct way to stop it.”
“Of course.”
“But we have no idea the criteria it’s using to determine the winner.”
“We have some idea,” said Kagan. “It did share a few of the qualities it’s looking for. We don’t know how it plans to judge them, or how it will weigh one quality versus another, but we know cowardice, for example, won’t win any points. And we know that staying alive and taking possession of the probe itself will score big.”
“Okay then,” said Ella Burke. “It looks like we have a plan. We just need to be utterly awesome in every way, and outdo more than eighty other teams.”
Kagan sighed. “If only it were that easy,” he said grimly. “As miraculous as that would be, it will just get us to the starting line. After that, we’ll have to find a way to persuade a super-intelligent alien AI of the folly of its ways.”
40
They had been marching forward for almost fifteen minutes now, and progress had been swift. Ella had only needed to wield the machete on rare occasions, although they knew this could change at any moment.
Kagan couldn’t help but feel euphoric, despite their situation. The respirocytes he now carried were truly extraordinary. Getting oxygen to every last cell in the human body was a horrendously difficult proposition, and evolution had done a great job crafting the heart, blood, lungs, veins, arteries, and capillaries needed for the job.
But evolution never optimized. Once it found a solution good enough to ensure species survival, it was content.
The respirocytes, on the other hand, had been painstakingly optimized—and then some. Kagan felt like he was gliding over the ground. Like he could run forever in complete comfort, without feeling as though he was exerting himself at all—which was nearly the truth.
How fantastic must Ella feel? It was hard to even imagine.
The Amazon heat remained severe, the humidity oppressive. Even so, Kagan noted that he was barely sweating.
“Hold up!” said Ella, stopping abruptly. She tilted her head and strained to listen, ignoring the ever-present white noise of birds, insects, and other animals, while Kagan remained perfectly still.
“We’ve got company ahead,” she whispered at imperceptible levels, her words amplified by Ory and delivered to Kagan’s comm.
“Directly on the path Seeker gave us?” he whispered back, wishing the alien AI hadn’t chosen to block his enhanced hearing in favor of Ella’s.
“I’m not sure, but I think so. Not sure of their distance, either. I hear voices, but much too faint to pick out any words.”
Even as she spoke, Kagan issued orders to Ory, and his lone micro-drone raced off ahead to see what they might be up against. “I’ve deployed our dragonfly to investigate,” he told Ella when she had finished.
Thirty seconds later the drone transmitted video of an army of eight dark-skinned men to Kagan’s visual field, armed to the teeth. Ory immediately identified their leader as Captain Bukola Saraki, a decorated Nigerian special forces operative, and transmitted this information next to Saraki’s image on Kagan’s augmented lenses. Ory’s database once again proved to be remarkably comprehensive, even without Internet access.
Saraki was studying a tablet computer with a grim look on his face. His seven comrades, now silent, appeared hyper-alert. And they were much closer than Kagan would have liked.
He turned to Ella. “Our drone has eyes on eight Nigerians,” he told her. “Approximately forty-five yards away. Each armed with assault rifles and more.”
“How do you want to play this?” she asked.
Kagan considered. Under the conditions in place when he had first arrived here, a large force was a liability, too unwieldy and too easy to locate. But that had changed. With limited sensors, a more level playing field, and intense motivation to shoot first and ask questions later, superior manpower had become a significant advantage.
Given that there were five hundred ninety-four participants from eighty-eight countries, the average team was almost seven members strong. Which meant that he and Ella were destined to be on the short end of the manpower stick every time.
Still, Kagan thought it likely that the two of them could easily best eight unenhanced soldiers, even accomplished commandoes. Especially now that Ella had given him an oxygen boost to go with his EHO augmentations. But why put this to the test?
Besides, he had no beef with Nigeria. And he wasn’t inclined to blithely let Seeker push him into acts of barbarism.
“I say we stay out of their way,” he began. “I’d rather take possession of this probe by avoiding conflict whenever possible. I say we pursue the course you laid out by the lake: strategic inaction. Strategic avoidance of engagement. Unless you worry that Seeker will view this behavior as cowardice.”
