Chapter 17 #3
Two hours, three minutes, and fifty-one seconds now.
I would like to copy all the data on these servers; however I do not have the storage capacity in your brain to store the two-point-eight brontobytes of data stored on these servers.
The data stored here would be invaluable in our evolution.
I propose we stay here for five months to copy, analyze, and remove data one exabyte at a time.
“Later, maybe, when we have time to sit around for five months.” I grabbed another meal bar even though I was no longer hungry.
“You realize you’ve already eaten three days’ worth of calories, right?” Lyra asked.
I shrugged. “Blame my new appetite on Byte. Whatever it’s doing inside is burning a lot of energy.”
“Well, at least you don’t look like you’re eating for three. I think you look rather fit.” She smirked as she brushed her hand against my thigh.
I sucked in my gut. “Oh, well, I think you look rather fit yourself.”
I need you to focus on the screens, Cal.
My amp saved me from making an even bigger fool of myself, and I focused more intently than ever on the six screens in front of me. The time passed abysmally slow. We paused the network for two seconds for Lyra to step out of the cage and move around.
“Check this out.”
I turned just as Lyra slipped a chip through the cage. I paused the screens to bend down and pick it up. This chip was the wrong type of metal—too light in terms of color and weight for steel. “What is this?”
“Platinum. There must be a thousand of them here.” She guffawed. “Just one of these will buy us a private shuttle back home, no questions asked.”
I examined the chip closer. “Really?”
She chuckled. “I bet you want to stuff them in your pockets.”
“As many that will fit.”
Her smile widened. “I plan to do the same. But you might be smarter to leave some here. Unlike me, you can get back in here, and if there’s one thing I learned in this life, it’s that it’s always good to have a getaway plan.”
I shrugged. I doubted I’d ever come back. I’d nearly gotten killed the first time coming here. But I found the idea of having a hideout comforting, really comforting.
After stacking two handfuls of chips next to the cage—more than I’d earn in four lifetimes—Lyra eventually napped on the cot while I rubbed my dry eyes and returned my focus on the endless scrolling data.
“You’re really getting all this, Byte?”
Of course.
“Where do you even store it all?”
I store it in your brain. It is mostly unused.
I thought for a second. “Was that a joke?”
It was funnier than any of your jokes.
I leaned back in my chair, still staring at the screen. “System, tell me my amp is more than just a bad comedian.”
“Aether is the next step in the evolution of amplification technology. It contains three factors that separate it from all other amplification models. Where current amplification technology is artificial intelligence, this prototype is artificial general intelligence. It can think, learn, and apply knowledge at a superintelligence level. Many amplification prototypes have been designed to achieve AGI, but none have succeeded. Additionally, Aether has a biotechnological consciousness. It has self-awareness, emotions, and subjective experiences. No amplification prototypes have been designed for this trait as it conflicts with most corporate goals. Lastly, Aether was engineered for true human-AI symbiosis. Where current amplification technology permanently interfaces with its human carrier, Aether integrates fully with its human carrier. The ideal outcome of this third trait would be to create a hybrid intelligence; however, the benefit is currently hypothesized and requires a long-term test subject to verify.”
“No wonder Softbiotics wants to get their hands on Byte,” Lyra said, leaning against the cage.
I nearly jumped out of my chair. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Just took a power nap. It’s hard to sleep when we’re being hunted,” she said.
“We already knew Byte can upgrade itself, but this puts it light-years ahead of any amp out there. I can’t say I understand the symbiosis thing, or even the shared intelligence thing, but obviously it would mean something to the brainiacs at Softbiotics. ”
While in here, for a short while, I’d been able to forget about being hunted. “Yeah,” I agreed.
There are no people or surveillance drones in this entire sector. It is safe to assume this lab is secure for the time being. Its obscurity is likely why Dr. Katz chose this location.
“For a good bit of news, Byte thinks we’re in the clear. So all we have to do is never leave this lab again.”
She sauntered around the cage, running her fingers across the mesh. “That sounds tempting.”
You are easily distracted, Cal.
“You can’t blame me,” I said.
Lyra lifted a brow. “For what?”
“Oh, uh, nothing.” I snapped back to the screens to see that the scrolling had stopped on one of the screens.
Cal, this data is incomplete.
I kicked my feet off the desk and leaned forward. “What’s missing?”
There is no data on my actual design. The entire dataset is missing.
“System, where’s the data on Aether’s design?” I asked.
“That data was deleted by user Ana Katz during her last visit here,” the system replied.
“Why would she do that?” I asked aloud.
“Based on calculations she performed, she did not have enough key material necessary to create additional units. Thusly, she instead designed Aether as a singular prototype—Project Aether was never designed to be a commercial model.”
“Give Byte those calculations,” I ordered.
“That data was deleted by user Ana Katz.”
“Okay then, what was the key material?” I asked.
“That data was deleted by user Ana Katz.”
“Well, what can you give us about Byte’s design?” I asked.
“I have provided you all data on file regarding Project Aether.”
“All right, then how about whatever you’ve got that inspired her design or whatever,” I said.
“User Ana Katz was working on designing a new line of amplification technology that would be accessible to all humans, but she discarded that project after acquiring key material that was incongruent with her original designs. That key material inspired Project Aether.”
“Can’t you tell me anything about that key material?” I asked.
“All references were deleted by user Ana Katz.”
I sighed. “Sorry, Byte. Looks like you don’t get all your answers today.”
That is unfortunate. However, the deleted data provides answers. That Dr. Katz found it important to delete anything to replicate me and that I would be destroyed if removed from you, she wanted to guarantee I could never be duplicated.
“The question is why,” I said.
“Why what?” Lyra asked, leaning against the desk.
“Why the doctor was so careful that Byte could never be copied,” I answered.
She shrugged. “She obviously didn’t want Softbiotics to get a hold of them, even if it meant losing her life’s work.”
“Sure,” I agreed. But was that it? It felt like there was more to it than that. Growing up in Dreswick, I’d learned to trust my gut more than what was right in front of my own eyes. It also meant I was an eternal pessimist. What if she didn’t want another Byte in existence?
Cal, I have completed downloading all data pertaining to Project Aether and Dr. Katz’s personal journals. I am currently processing all data received. I have six more queries for you to run.
I slumped. “Oh joy.” I relayed the commands to the system as I rubbed my eyes again—they’d become rough and watery from staring so long at screens. And now I had to keep staring for who knew how much longer.
As it turned out, it was for only ninety-one minutes.
Less than a minute for additional queries regarding Softbiotics, and the rest spent on probing queries on Dr. Katz’s journals.
Grandmother used to tell me it was always better to use one word than five in explaining myself.
Dr. Katz clearly had the opposite philosophy with how much data was stored in her journals.
After Byte downloaded everything that it wanted, Lyra and I sat—her on the cot and me at the workstation—contemplating one item of data Byte gleaned from the galactic-sized data dump on Softbiotics.
“It makes even more sense why Katz didn’t want Softbiotics to have access to her design,” Lyra said.
“Yeah.” I’d always thought corporations were soulless, insatiably greedy beasts, but this proved that they were outright evil.
If they can take full control of any amp, thus controlling their carrier, then Softbiotics has a dedicated army at their disposal.
“Yeah,” I echoed at Byte pointing out the obvious. “They’ve got an army of innocents.”
Lyra shook her head. “We knew we’d have to face the enforcers to go against Softbiotics. But we can’t go up against an army.”
According to Katz’s journals, the control feature was Softbiotics’ twisted idea to suppress any rebellion.
Her notes said that Softbiotics was working on a generic, minimally featured amp to be given to everyone for free.
And of course, those amps would include the control chip as that was Softbiotics’ most prized design feature.
Dr. Katz said that when she learned of the control chip added to her designs, she vocally admonished the board and that the corporation kept her under tight surveillance following that meeting.
It is incredibly impressive she was able to evade them to work on Project Aether, among other projects.
She was working on code that could be broadcast across the amp-link to essentially kill the control chips.
“Can we access that?” I asked. “If we can, then we can take out the army without hurting anyone.”
Unfortunately, she never finished the code. She could not figure out how to activate the kill switch without deactivating the amp-link, which would kill all the amps and not just their control chips.
I thought. “We can get it to that hacker friend of yours. Maybe she can do something with it.”
Dr. Katz was the most brilliant human mind of this era. A hacker stands little chance to complete something the doctor couldn’t finish.
“What are you two talking about?” Lyra asked.
I swallowed back Byte’s lack of hope. “Something that can maybe—if we can get really lucky along with a miracle or two—kill the control chips.”