Chapter 1: Meetings
It was a cold day outside when MacLeere woke up. He had been having nightmares about the subjects who had died again. For the life of him, he could not say why. They had all agreed to go through the surgery, and those who declined went to loving homes. Besides, that was over eight years ago. Still, out of the five hundred who went through the operation, only fifty remained... Were these losses truly necessary?
MacLeere bolted out of bed when he looked over at the clock. He only had twenty minutes before he was supposed to give a presentation to the government officials! He would never make it on time... So, skipping the shower and coffee, he put on a relatively clean shirt and pair of pants, a somewhat-dirty lab coat, grabbed his glasses and car keys and rushed out the door.
By the time he arrived at the Cube he was fifteen minutes late. The Cube was a military complex located about thirty minutes outside of town, and was called the Cube for it’s shape and color, which was jet black. This was the most noticeable building in the area, and one could even see it from space. It was surprising that no one had thought of attacking it during the war of 2037, thought MacLeere. He was cleared through security inside, and was walked down a long, narrow hallway to the board room. After some more security check, he was ushered in, and every bit of chatter ceased. There were some government officials, military officers, and a handful of scientists seated around a large table. All the seats were exactly the same color, red, and there was a screen at the far end of the room which was completely transparent. Connected to it was a small computer tower whose humming was the only thing that broke the silence in that room.
“Gentlemen”, said a man in a suit, “I would like you to meet John MacLeere, Assistant Director to the DARWIN Program. Mr. MacLeere, thank you for joining us.”
“Yes, thank you for having me, sir. I am truly sorry about the delay.”
“Well, sir, it happens to the best of us, Please, begin”, replied the man.
MacLeere plugged in his DDU into the little tower at the other end of the room, and instantly a slide showed up on the transparent screen. It had a blue and black background, and there was text in the middle that read “The DARWIN Program”. MacLeere cleared his throat.
“Firstly, I would like to thank everyone on behalf of the DARWIN program for allowing me to be here. As you all know, the DARWIN Program prides itself on-“
“Could you please speed this up a little?”, someone in the back row interrupted.
“Uh... Yes, of course”, John replied. “Well, let’s skip to the real question: why am I here? I am here, gentlemen, to propose financial and military involvement in the DARWIN Program. But what exactly is the DARWIN Program, you ask? Allow me to explain:”
The slide changed.
“The DARWIN Program was conceived in the year 2043 by the well-known scientist Peter Galahay in order to study the evolution and betterment of the human species. Over the course of the following year, it expanded to be involved with the federal government, and it then branched into the study of child development, which is what we are currently undertaking. Needless to say, there have been many points where our scientists have been in awe of their discoveries, but none so much as the most recent breakthrough that we have had.”
The slide changed again.
“We were exploring the human mind, you see, and we wanted to see how memories were stored. You’ve all heard the regular jargon: memories are electrical signals stored in the long-term memory of the brain. But that doesn’t account for how they are stored; that simply say where and what they are. We were puzzled for quite a long time, until we thought of something brilliant.
We often equate brains as being computers, processing information in an input-output fashion. Our brain, however, is much more than just separate parts of a computer: it’s the entire computer put together. It’s the processor, the RAM, the hard drive, it’s everything; everything, including a display, which goes relatively unseen since we can only view pictures in our mind by some odd way. But that is beside the point: The real heart of the matter is... We have found that memories are exactly like computer files in every regard.”
A couple of the scientists in the back were, unsurprisingly, astonished, and their gasps told the whole story. The rest of the people in the room, who knew nothing to speak of about computers or how they worked, were unwavering in their cold stares.
John continued.
“Now, this still doesn’t answer the question that ensues after this is discovered: how much data can the mind store? Well, this is where things get a little technical, so I will try to do my best to explain it in terms that everyone can understand.
Let’s first examine a memory: what exactly is it? Well, a memory is the way our mind recounts an event, often with picture and sound. It sounds a lot like a film when put into that context, but it doesn’t quite hit the mark: you all should know that often times, memories are vague, sporadic, and are sometimes false. We also forget many things until we have been reminded of them, and sometimes have to dig very deep to remember certain things. Other things are forgotten completely, and some ‘memories’ are fabrications of the mind and dreams. We often only remember specific details of certain events as well, such as the woman who wore a particularly grotesque sweater, or something of the like. Why is this? The answer lies in the amount of data that a mind can hold. To get all of the memories of a human being of the age of 70 onto a computer in uncompressed format would take years, as the amount of data is about seven Yottabytes of data. For those who don’t know, if we took all the information from all the computers in the world, it would amount to about one Yottabyte of data. This means that the mind can hold a virtually unlimited supply of data. However, there is a catch. You see, the mind can only truly hold about six to seven kilobytes of data. We tried this experiment on monkeys who have a one to six ratio compared to human beings. The bottom line is, humans must have a great archiving and file compression system available that can compress terabytes of information into mere bytes of raw data. We thought this impossible, until we found out how to do it.”
Everyone in the room was now listening intently, and all eyes were fixated upon John. The slide changed once more.
“The breakthrough came out as a sort of accident, since we had been trying to do this for months by using random data compressed to very small amounts by replacing the binary values of the files with smaller values so they could be compressed. We started by using a four megabyte music file, which was already compressed to as small as our conventional methods would allow. Of course, this failed, since we could never get the file small enough to be workable in the human mind. We were lost on the compression part, since the file needed to be readable by the mind, and couldn’t be reconstructed because of the high compression system we were using.”
Blank stares enveloped the room. MacLeere realized that he had just said everything in an extremely complicated way.
“Basically,” he corrected himself, “what I mean is that since we were compressing the files using a computer, they couldn’t be read by the human mind. We had to change our way of thinking. Essentially, our way of compressing files was replacing the data which had some constants with smaller bytes which could be translated into the original sequence. Sort of like saying that ‘72’ represents ‘Alberta’, or something like that. Anyway, one of us thought that it would be fun to try and see how much you could compress something before it lost all its original data. The answer amazed us: You can compress a four megabyte file into one one thousandth of a byte without losing any original data. This is how the mind stores information: it compresses it by storing the data with things it already knows, and interpreting them in this way. So when you think of the expression ‘raining cats and dogs’, you automatically think of cats and dogs falling from the sky, since this is what you relate cats and dogs to, and the word rain as well.
The minute we knew how this worked, the rest of the program was simple. We were able to make files f
rom a computer that could be read by a human mind with ease. The only problem was that the mind eventually forgot these artificial memories, since it had no point of origin for it to equate to. You see, if the mind doesn’t think of it, or if someone doesn’t take something in, learn it, it won’t accept the new file. It forgets it, and can’t recall ever using it. Selective amnesia is the mind’s defence against hacking, it would seem.
It was then that the DARWIN Program changed direction: what if we could make a way to keep the artificial memories separate from the brain, but still be able to access it? We decided that the most viable solution lied in making an external hard drive, if you will. So, we created one megabyte external drives that were inserted surgically into willing patients. The drives have the same read speeds as the mind, which is exponentially faster than a regular hard drive. I won’t get into details about them, but rest assured that they work. Our research is advancing very well at the moment, but we have hit a snag. This is where you all come in.”
The men in the room seemed to be on the edge of their seats. What they were hearing was incredible!
“The government would like the involvement of the military in this program, but the higher-ups said that they would only do it if they, meaning all of you, unanimously gave your approval. This is not an order; since the nature of this experiment is questionable at best, it seemed only logical for there to be a democratic decision. It is for this reason that, given the information presented, I will now take leave of you all and await your decision. You have until the end of the month to reply. Thank you all for your time.”
And with that, the screen turned off, MacLeere took his DDU back, and he exited the room. The silence as he left the room was almost unbearable. John knew that this was all surprising to people new to the program, but since he had been there from the beginnings of it, he found nothing particularly pertinent. He was interrupted by a single scientist running down the hall after him.
“Mr. MacLeere!”, he shouted. “Mr. MacLeere!”
John turned around to face the gentleman.
“Sir,” said the other man, “I would just like to congratulate you on your presentation! I mean... wow... that was simply incredible! Listen, is there anything that you want right now? Anything that you need?”
MacLeere thought for a moment, and then spoke.
“Well, I could really use a coffee, actually.”
With that, the scientist guided him towards the nearest coffee machine. Well, thought MacLeere, it looks like that military training idea that Peter had is going to come true after all.
Five Years Later
The fact that he had been woken up at five in the morning wasn’t the thing that made Jae so mad. It wasn’t that he hadn’t even had time to dress properly, or that he had hardly slept in two weeks: no, it was the reason why they had called him. Another rookie that got caught among the drones and would have to be repaired… Such a waste of time.
Jae slipped his Memory Chip into his PMB, and instantly was aware of everything around him. He never kept it in while he was asleep, since remembering every aspect of a nightmare didn’t sound like such a fun time. He brought up the HUD that he had programmed for himself. He was the only one who could see it, of course, since it was all in his mind. He calculated the shortest distance to the hall, and instantly a red line appeared on the floor to guide him. He ran as fast as he could, dodging everyone who stood in his way. They had little to no reaction; this was common since the new models came out.
Through white hallway after white hallway with uncountable doors on either side, he ran through the Military Complex that had been his home for the past four and a half years. Ever since the military training, people just seemed to get injured right and left. Everyone, that is, except the original 50 who had seen the first leg of the program through. Jae, being one of those 50, had a sort of immunity to this sort of dealing: it was just routine.
He finally arrived at the Holographic Combat Training room, where he found a small child, no more than 12, curled up in the foetal position on the floor. The room vaguely resembled something from the movie Tron, which made it one of the rooms which most would avoid whenever they could. Jae walked over to the soldier who had reported the lad.
“What happened?”, Jae asked shortly.
“Well, sir,” the soldier replied, “I was teaching him how to use a sniper rifle, and he didn’t notice a drone coming up behind him. Then he… well, you can put two and two together.”
“Great… Just what we needed: another counselling session. You’d better take him to Madeline, private.”
“Yes, sir!”
With that, the soldier took the young boy with him and exited the room. Jae was left alone to ponder the situation.
He had often thought that the use of fear as a weapon was completely uncalled for. Sort of like the use of landmines is inhumane, in a way. Drones that, when possible, won’t shoot back, but try to make you submit by showing you your greatest fear: that was ethically questionable, at best. But Jae was always assured by his father that the government had cleared the use of fear, and that it served the best interests of everyone involved to confront those fears. His father! He used the term loosely. He was more like a teacher than a father. He had even been told that the only reason that he had been adopted was because MacLeere needed a subject from an orphanage. Never directly by his father, of course, but Jae had always suspected this, even before the others had told him this.
A two-tone ring was heard in the room.
“MacLeere calling Subject 238. Please respond.”
Jae instinctively headed to the front of the room and touched the COMM pad. He knew he was communicating because of the lower two-tone ring he heard as he touched it.
“238 here. What is it, sir? I’m a little tired, you know.”
“Yes, I realize that, Jae, but I need you to come to my office immediately. There is something that we need to discuss.”, the reply came.
“Very well, sir. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Jae left his thoughts alone for the moment. He usually had the entire night for thinking about what to do with his father, so he left the room without any remorse. He yawned and passed his fingers through his black hair as he started down the hallway. He had forgotten to shave, too, it seemed. Fantastic. Jen would just love seeing that in the afternoon.
He arrived presently at the end of a long and wide hallway. There was a door that had the words “John MacLeere, Executive Director” on a plaque, and a glazed window in the middle. He knocked on the door, and went in. The knocking was more of a formality than a must, as MacLeere would already be expecting him. He was once again struck by the sharp contrast of the room compared to the hall outside; a bright red room compared to the bleak white halls was hardly expected in this facility. It took some getting used to.
Jae noticed that there was a general sitting in one of the chairs next to the bureau, where John was seated in his dark green seat. Jae instantly snapped to attention.
“Sir!”
“At ease, soldier”, said the general without looking up from his papers. “You don’t have to worry about formality in this room.”
Jae, although uneasy, tried to settle himself down as best he could. John now took full control.
“Jae, please, sit. I’m afraid we have some rather… Unpleasant news.”
Jae sat down next to the general, and gazed directly into his fathers’ eyes. This usually served for him to get right to the point.
“Well, Jae, I was just informed that the government’s Artificial Intelligence Initiative has been approved by the higher powers, and they are scheduled to start construction next month. I know how much you’ve supported the Initiative, so I wanted to make sure you were the first to know.”
Jae was speechless for a moment.
“Why… That’s fantastic!”, he exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for three years for the Military to finally accept my proposal!”
“Yes, it took us
a while, but we did see the light”, said the General. “But there is one thing that we’d like to ask of you, 238, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything! Name it, and I’ll gladly do it!”
“Now, Jae, this won’t be easy for you to accept”, said MacLeere. “This was the only way I could get them to accept, and I did think about this a long time.”
Jae was confused.
“What exactly do you mean?”
The General cleared his throat before John could intersect.
“He means that we’ll only start the program if you allow us to use your Memory Chip, son. That was the term we came to.”
A silence enveloped the room. What the General didn’t know about the program was that, once inserted, the subjects of the PMBs were addicted to the storage for life. The addiction was only supressed during sleep cycles, and even then, the symptoms showed. There were some flaws that were present in the first generation of the DARWIN Program, and MacLeere knew it.
“Well…” Jae was hesitating, because he knew how hard it would be to cope without his Memory Chip for any length of time.
“Rest assured, it won’t take more than a week to completely copy the content of the chip to the AI. We also guarantee that any personal memories can be screened by yourself and be deleted at your own convenience.”
MacLeere could see that Jae was seriously debating this in his mind. He knew that he was the least addicted out of the others, since he would willingly take out his MC when sleeping, and also that he felt strongly about the project. This would work.
“Alright…”
And it did.
Jae slipped out the Memory Chip from his back, and handed it to the General.
“I trust you can take care of this for me.”
“Yes, I certainly will. Thank you for your time.”