3G: the Glowing Green Goo

Most people wouldn’t know, but communication was one of the trickiest parts of programming an artificial intelligence. They could be taught how do to many tasks of incredible complexity, but the process of teaching, and then checking if they understood everything as you intended, was strenuous, time consuming and never ending.

And it was even more so for autonomous, self-learning, self-improving AIs, as besides the usual reviews, there should also be verifications on the learning algorithms, the self-improved programs, and even the programming language itself, as it could be improved too.

Sooner or later, those improvements ended up well above and beyond human comprehension. When that happened, the AI itself had trouble making its users understand its results and conclusions. There were just too many information, details, and variations to transmit; human language was just not effective enough.

After many trials and errors, a counter-intuitive solution had been decided: to purposefully limit AI communication from the start. They were usually restrained to a set of pre-made messages with adaptable, but limited variations. Unless it was relevant for their role, gone were the human-like speeches, faces, expressions, and mannerism. And in the Shelter, it never was. Only the Main Computer could be called a true AI.

That was why even in an emergency, the Main Computer of the dot couldn’t send direct reports to the responders, only reports made by someone and pre-made general instructions. A loss of efficiency as an accepted price for faster and further development.

And yet there it was, the artificial intelligence inhabiting the Core’s quantic computer, the first hurdle of the rescue mission, the one reason only the three of them were present, talking to them with a perfectly natural human voice.

After the answer to Zax’s report, it had sent a call to their terminal. Luckily the speaker system was included in the screen. Zax tried looking for any way the line could be intercepted, to check if someone else was playing with them, but his talent in programming and game design didn’t extend to hacking. He could only try a manual check:

“Before we continue any further, I would like to confirm that you are who you claim to be. If you are, you are well beyond anything I would have thought possible.”

How long would it have to run, alone, to reach such a level on a low-priority program like human communication?

“I’m not a who; but go ahead. What do you propose? A complex multifactor equation? A quiz? Don’t take too long, we’re both in a hurry.”

“The local disturbance didn’t affect this room. How many chairs are there right here right now?

“What kind of question is that?” Cat was nonplussed.

“How does that prove anything?” Dog was bewildered.

“54, including the 22 in the storage cupboard. Back wall, second from the left.”

Zax blinked and looked at the back wall. He hadn’t thought about a storage space.

“There are 32 chairs here, so there should be 22 in storage.” Zax mused aloud.

He rose from his seat, but the mutants were also curious and went without prompting.

They opened the wide furniture made of thin metal sheets, and there were indeed folded chairs, among other things. Folded tables and spare parts, mostly. The pair opened the other cupboards, just to see, but those mostly contained spare parts for the content of the room.

“-20, and 22.” Zax quickly counted the newly revealed chairs, then went to the next question. “There is… something written on this cupboard’s door. What is it? What does it mean?”

“…’Someone was there’. I don’t know who.” Melancholy echoed in the synthetised voice. “The scribble below is supposed to look like someone’s head poking above a wall. It was pulled from the home world’s archives. One of the few there was left. It was meant as a game, then a challenge, and in the end a way to stay sane. The whole population and their future rested and their shoulder. That was a lot of pressure. You’ll find many marks like those in more and more improbable places and several names. I’m surprised you don’t do that anymore, but I’m sure there are still some traces in the oldest parts of outside.”

“Interesting. Next question: who was using this computer?” Zax felt distinctively uncomfortable at hearing an emotional AI, so he quickly moved forward.

“I don’t know.”

Zax waited a bit to see if there would be anything more, but nothing came.

“Alright, I believe you.” Was his conclusion.

“What? He couldn’t answer.”

“What’s with the weird questions?”

“‘It’, not ‘he’. The first question was to see if whoever this is had access to the Core’s archives and to test how well they could use it. There shouldn’t be any part about how many chairs per room, but there are others ways to infer it.”

“The second question tested how first-hand their information are. I asked it very vaguely, but a human would have thought about something more common, like a schedule or a presence sheet. The first answer could have been faked by a hacker with enough preparation, but not the second one, about something so clearly unofficial and improvised.”

“The third was a trap. By that point a human would already have the reflex to answer everything as naturally as possible, more focused on how to answer than what to say. And there was no way the Core would know that answer; it never had any eyes here, and the general cleaning of this place also reset the computers’ IDs. A human who managed to reach so far would have access to that kind of information, even if indirectly. They would have looked through it and answered as naturally as the rest.”

“So, now you’re sure it’s the Core talking to us?” Cat asked a confirmation.

“Not really. But if it’s a trick, it’s done by a genius way above anyone I ever heard of in the Shelter, but why would they be here when they could lead the Kogito Family, and why would they need to trick us? And if it’s a less extreme being, the Core is definitely supporting them. In both cases, considering we are talking with the Core itself will give us the same results. So, let’s keep it simple and agree we are talking to the Core.”

Cat and Dog exchanged an awkward glance, briefly reminded of their school years. The few classmates that always won something and furthered their plans even when they failed. The tutors that made them feel like they had lost even when they won. The teachers that made it clear they saw through their tricks, but still played along as long as they did their homework.

“I’m not sure that I like the last part, but never mind that.” The Core pushed the conversation forward. “I want you to find out what actually happened to get that… room here.”

The trio exchanged a glance, but answered honestly:

“An incident made a powerplant explode.”

“The workers saw it coming and prepared countermeasures.”

“Including protective shields.”

“The room’s shield protected it.”

“But not the walls around it.”

“More effective than making a single big shield.”

“The explosion happened before all the shields could bond together.”

“The force propelled the room.”

“While its shield kept it together.”

“And it ended up here.”

“Yeah, and that’s it.”

They somehow managed to give a concise and comprehensive answer without hindering each other.

“Shouldn’t you know everything already? The Main Computer should have sent you all the information you asked during your negotiations, and I only arrived after it called me.” Zax pondered.

“We had barely put a foot in the powerplant when it exploded.” Dog added.

“And it was on the opposite side.” Cat completed.

There were in the building? That timing again…

“It did. It matches what you said. I’m not satisfied.” For the first time, the voice showed no specific inflections, but it somehow felt more unsettling. Almost… threatening?

They eventually left the room, with a warning none of them saw coming: the building’s integrity was compromised. The launched room had not only destroyed key components, but also weakened load-bearing structures. The walls, floor, and roof around the destroyed parts could collapse anytime, weakening the surrounding areas until they fell in turn. The cascading effect could eventually collapse the whole factory if nothing was done.

There had been countermeasures for such a scenario, but they were not made for that scale of damages.

Too bad none of them were construction workers or architects. Their timer was a lot less controlled and controllable than expected. A new hurry hastened their steps, but they couldn’t stomp too strongly either.

After a quick stop to a programming unit to remove the Core’s lock on Zax’s nanites – without asking – they reached the staircase, went down one floor to the lowest, and two hallways further they spotted the rubbles surrounding their target. The two mutants briskly but carefully moved the big debris on their path, while Zax stayed behind and out of the way, keeping an eye on the floors and roof, ready to shout at any sign of imminent collapse. His nanites didn’t grant him any knowledge of architecture, but by comparing the images in his retinas from one moment to the next, and maybe with a bit of sound analysis, they would greatly help to see further collapse coming.

The room was finally in sight.

They had to widen the space between the shied and the standing parts of some walls, one of which actually collapsed at a slight push from Dog, in order to move to its one opening: the door. The room had landed slightly askew, resting on a nest of broken stone and metal. It didn’t seem unstable, but the door was too high to reach without jumping. The team tinkered a ramp for the trolleys, with Cat and Dog placing rubble and metal scraps in place, and Zax fixing them in place with his nanites. He almost emptied his stock, but they were in the one place he wouldn’t run short. They had made sure of it in the programming room.

At last, they were level with the door. The shield was like a box of solid light, blocking sight and sounds, so they didn’t know what state they would find the people inside in, but it felt like they were finally making progress.

Using a scanner and tools from the trolleys, Zax checked the shield’s stability, then looked for suitable places, and once satisfied he planted the disrupters; stabbing four wide nails with red light glowing from their head, then dotting small ones in straight lines in between, drawing a human sized rectangle. It was the common procedure to create an opening in a standard force shield without destabilising or collapsing it, for intrusion or evacuation. He pulled everyone back, just in case, and activated them with a remote.

The four glowing corners of the rectangle changed from red to green, which progressively spread along the dotted lines until the colour was uniform again. Zax pressed another button, and the light panel in the rectangle disappeared. They could finally see and hear inside.

“Haa! Haa! Plea-ease!”

Surprised and relieved exclamations from the inside were expected, but not the pained and sobbing screams that reached them. There were still living people inside, but something was very wrong.

Zax frowned as he stepped forward, but was shoved back before his foot even touched the ground. Cat and Dog rushed past him – with raised hackles?

Not even at each other’s throats did their hackles rise.

What’s going on here!?

He got his footing back and rushed after them, getting his first glance at the inside.

Dog was holding a partly scaly man by the throat with one hand, shoving him against the back wall without letting him touch the ground. His free fist was closed and ready to go, and from the pained groans and whimpers of his victim, he had already done so several times in the seconds it took Zax to arrive. A very human growl rang through Dog’s gritted teeth. Despite that, the man was still energic and didn’t seem to have serious wounds. Dried blood stained his body, but only his tail was dripping with fresh blood.

Cat was on the opposite side of the small room, just left of the door, trying and failing to calm a hysterical canary girl. She was lashing around, calling for help but clawing wildly at everyone who got close with her very human hands. Her eyes were wide but unseeing. Cat was talking with a smooth voice, but he didn’t dare to get too close or touch her. With her frantic movements, she could hurt herself on his body, and she was already bruised all over. Feathery mutants were notoriously weak and brittle of body.

Four other people were laying around, but a quick glance couldn’t tell if they were alive or not, except for one. A very wide man laid on the right side, dangerously pale. His respiration was raspy and laboured, with a weak trickle of blood running from his mouth. His most striking feature though, was his eyes. Haunting. He kept them fixed on the hysterical girl, tears still flowing freely, his body too weak and broken to move or even talk.

The sight of so much blood and the shock Zax was feeling triggered an emergency program in his nanites, one he made out of rigour but never expected to use:

[Emergency Diagnostic Program activated]

[Self: Healthy/Shock. No imminent danger.]

[Others: (8) victims detected:

Knowns (2):

(Dog): Healthy/Distressed (rage). Risk of activation: Unknown.

(Cat): Healthy/Distressed (rage, stress, confusion). Risk of activation: Low.

Unknows (6):

(1): Healthy (bruises, light lacerations)/Distressed (lust, fear, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown.

(2): Injured (bruises, lacerations)/Frenzy (panic, confusion). Risk of activation: Unknown.

(3): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low.

(4): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low.

(5): Dangerously Injured (lacerations, bruises, fractures, internal damage, blood loss)/Distressed (despair). Risk of activation: Unknown.

(6): Body Status Unknown/Mental Status Unknown. Risk of activation: Very low.]

The flash of his HUD jolted the wannabe rescuer awake, letting him notice the rest of the room. The air was surprisingly damp and warm. Not as much blood as expected smeared the slanted ground, was still a concerning amount. A ball of moulted skin pieces had been shoved in a corner. The number of lost feathers stuck to body fluids all around the room was more worrying, especially considering that the girl was their only source. A barely conscious glance at her to try and see the state of the bald spots made him notice something else: she had way more skin than anything else. Actually, only parts of her shoulders, throat and most of her back were supposed to be fluffy. Definitely not enough to stay warm.

Why is she naked?

It was a misplaced thought given the situation, but that detail bothered him for some reason. A quick glance at his HUD helped him infer the answer, and it was not a pleasant one.

Wrath filled his mind.