Chapter 43
Finally Wilkinson sighed. “Very well. What do you know about the so-called technological singularity?”
June felt like she was back in school. As a journalist whose job was to talk with very smart people who understood things she did not, this happened with regularity.
“The singularity,” she said, “is the idea that multiple technologies—artificial intelligence, biotechnology, and nanotechnology—will advance in a mutually reinforcing explosion of innovation that will become uncontrollable and irreversible. The result would be that humanity either makes a great leap forward or destroys itself.”
“Very good,” Wilkinson said, his face indicating that perhaps she was not as dim as he’d previously thought.
“It is not a crackpot theory. NASA has a conference on this subject every year. The current best thinking is that this explosion of innovation will arrive some time in the next five to twenty years. In my opinion, the possibility of a negative outcome is significant. Perhaps as high as fifty percent in the next hundred years.”
She held up her hands like a traffic cop. “Hold on. Your P(doom) is fifty percent?”
The risk arising from uncontrolled technological development was a popular topic in the tech world. AI researchers had coined the notoriously under-defined pseudo-mathematical term P(doom) to express the probability of a civilization-ending outcome. Fifty percent was much higher than the average.
“Then why,” June said, “are you still working on AI?” In the singularity scenario, artificial intelligence was the precursor technology that would accelerate innovation in all other fields. That theory was already beginning to prove out in a number of scientific areas.
“Because the entire world is working on it,” he said. “And if a true superintelligence is possible, we need to achieve it before the Chinese. And the Russians, and the Iranians, and the North Koreans. All of which have proven to be deeply flawed, repressive, and destructive regimes.”
“American history is hardly without its flaws,” June said dryly.
He tipped his head, acknowledging that truth.
“The US has often acted quite badly, I agree. Going back to well before the nation’s founding.
That notwithstanding, and not withstanding our current political challenges, America—let us say the Western allies—have a history of valuing human freedom in a way that many other nations do not.
The nation that wins this race will be able to set the world’s agenda in an unprecedented way. QED, better us than them.”
“How did you arrive at a P(doom) of fifty percent?”
“Computer modeling. Of course, there are too many variables to make any single model the clear winner. Depending on the application, almost every transformational technology, past, present, and future, can be used to help humanity or harm it. Including the original transformational technology, fire. When burning in a stove or firepit, it cooks food, it warms on a cold night. When burning out of control, it destroys forests, prairies, communities.”
Wilkinson became more animated as he warmed to his subject.
“Best case, if humanity can actually begin to work together for some kind of common good, with commonsense regulations and safety controls in place, we truly could see the next human renaissance. The end of disease. The end of hunger. Clean, abundant energy. Lifespans extending for decades longer. Universal education. Widespread prosperity. We can repair the planet, colonize the solar system. The infinite expansion of human potential.”
“That sounds pretty good,” June said.
“However,” Wilkinson said, “given the current behavior of humanity as a whole, the modeling shows that positive scenario is increasingly unlikely. Evolutionarily, Homo sapiens is wired for tribalism and short-term thinking. Elected leaders sow division for personal gain. Late-stage capitalism prioritizes profit despite significant human and social costs. Climate change is also a factor. We are already seeing increased wildfires, strengthening storms, torrential rains, drought and desertification, and food shortages. Taken together, these factors are likely to lead to increased competition between nation-states and state-scale corporate actors. Which leads to social destabilization, not to mention resource and religious wars. Which we are already seeing, wouldn’t you agree? ”
“Ukraine,” June said. “The Middle East. Africa.”
“Exactly. The common result across all existing models is that the singularity is coming. The genie is out of the bottle. All we can do is work to mitigate the downstream effects. The inevitable job losses and social upheaval. Things are already changing too quickly for most people. There is a widespread desire to turn back the clock. We see that in political movements across the world. Unfortunately, the rate of change will only accelerate. This is the reason the so-called prepper movement is growing. It’s an entirely rational response to instability and uncontrolled change. ”
Now June understood why Wilkinson had started down this conversational path. “That’s why you got involved with the Messenger’s movement. You were hedging your bets in case the coin flipped the wrong way.”
“As any rational person would,” Wilkinson said.
“Relative to my net worth, the cost of a membership was negligible. And unlike my large holdings in British Columbia and New Zealand, I could, if necessary, simply bicycle to the Messenger’s camp, which is advertised as being within a hundred miles of downtown Seattle. ”
New Zealand was the billionaires’ safe space. Because of its geographical isolation and record of good government, many of the wealthiest men on the planet had bought vast estates and built secure compounds there during the pandemic.
“You’ve been to the camp?”
He shook his head. “My security team wouldn’t allow it.
When you take the tour, you can’t bring anyone with you.
They take your phone and blindfold you, so you don’t actually know where the camp is.
You are entirely in their power. So I sent Faraday in my place.
” He glanced back at the older of the two security men. “Tell her about it.”
Faraday was dark-skinned, mid-forties, and clean-shaven, with that air of contained watchfulness common to many cops and combat vets June had known.
“It was always with a group, maybe forty of us, the rest of them tech workers,” he said.
“There were only a few opportunities to visit each year, and the others were excited. We met in the parking lot of the Auburn mall. There were ten guys from the camp, and they loaded us into a beat-up old school bus with duct tape patching the seats and the windows painted over so you couldn’t see out.
Plus the blindfolds, which only added to the mystique.
They patted everyone down, made us leave our phones and wallets in our cars.
You couldn’t take a bag with you, either.
They were dead serious about keeping the location secret.
If you didn’t like it, they’d escort you off the bus. ”
“Great marketing,” June said. These were old sales tricks going back to the days of door-to-door salesmen.
Like the cassette tapes passed hand to hand, the scarcity of the product would make it feel like an exclusive club.
And the strange hardships of leaving their stuff behind, the blindfolds, the ratty old school bus, and not actually knowing where they were going, would be very different from their normal environment of wealth, comfort, and privilege.
It would make them feel like outsiders. Basic human psychology would make most people want to be part of the in-group.
“I checked my watch before they put on my blindfold and after they gave the okay to take it off. The whole thing took sixty-eight minutes. Call it ten minutes to get everybody settled, so maybe an hour of drive time? There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of turns at the beginning, so I don’t think they were trying too hard to throw us off. ”
Lewis spoke for the first time. “But I’m guessing you picked up some clues.”
Faraday nodded. “The last time I went, it was full summer. I sat as close to the front as I could, so I could feel the sun through the windshield. Mostly we seemed to go southeast. And when we got off the bus, it was clear enough that I could see Mount Rainier rising to the southwest. So I could make some educated guesses about locations. Draw a circle on a map, at least. Until the nineties, that was the largest unpopulated area in the continental US. There aren’t many roads in.
But it’s still a lot of open country, couple thousand square miles. ”
“What about the compound itself?” June was taking notes.
“I’d guess it used to be a summer camp, maybe even an old Boy Scout camp.
There’s a main lodge, a bunch of old cabins, but also new cabins, new greenhouses, a huge solar array.
It was the weekend, so I don’t know if anyone lives there full-time, but I saw at least a hundred people working on the place.
Everyone was armed. I’ve been three times in the last three years.
Each time, they’d made more improvements.
It’s pretty impressive. They clearly have a lot of funding. ”
“Did you get any names? The guys on the bus, the people living there?”
Faraday shook his head. “The tech bros didn’t want to out themselves. The people who put us on the bus or who lived there only gave us first names. A guy named Hollis seemed to be running things.”
“What about the Messenger,” June said. “Did you meet him?”
“All three times. Mid-sixties, Caucasian, educated. Never gave a name, he was just the Messenger. Kind of spooky eyes, but definitely magnetic. Empathetic, charismatic. You wanted to be near him. He’d put a hand on your arm or shoulder when he talked to you.
The way his people looked at him, it was like he was the messiah. ”
June thought back to the recording Peter and Ellie had found. “Did he talk about the Dark Time?”
“That’s most of what he talked about, although he didn’t give any details. When I was out there last July, he said it would come next year, maybe as soon as the spring.”
“Was he trying hard to convince you? Like one of those crackpot preachers who claim to know the hour and date of the apocalypse?”
“More like he had it written in his calendar,” Faraday said. “Very matter-of-fact. That was right before he took us to the armory, showed us how many guns they had.” He looked at Lewis. “A crap-ton, by the way.”
“Here’s what I don’t get,” June said. “If you’re not supposed to know where it is, how do you know where to go when the shit hits the fan?”
“There’s a protocol,” Faraday said. “They say they’ll send an alert to the members, with GPS coordinates and detailed directions.”
June frowned. “What if it’s a natural disaster that happens without warning, like an earthquake or tsunami? There won’t be time to send an alert before the cell network goes down.”
“Don’t matter,” Lewis said. “Whatever happens, they gonna know about it ahead of time. Because they the ones gonna pull the trigger.”
“I agree,” Wilkinson said. “It’s one of several reasons I’m seeking alternative options.”
“What are the other reasons?” June said.
“All the weapons. As if preparing for war rather than self-defense. Also the recordings, which became steadily more dire, more apocalyptic. I decided the group was dangerous. More likely a problem than a solution. After Faraday’s last trip in July, I decided to end my participation.”
“And you told Sanjay Mishra.” June was guessing, but the barren look on Wilkinson’s face told her she was correct. “Why did they come for him, but not you?”
Wilkinson looked out the window again, the rain streaming down the glass, his coffee forgotten in his hand.
“Because I didn’t tell the Messenger about my decision,” he said quietly.
“Unlike Sanjay, I continued paying for my membership. Unlike me, Sanjay was a man of principle. He agreed with me about the threat. He was going to reach out to a journalist. I suggested Katelyn Thorsen. In that way, I am responsible for her death, as well.”
The coffee shop was silent for a moment. Then June said, “What do you think they’re planning? Maybe something to do with the tech conference this weekend?”
“It’s possible,” Faraday said, “but I doubt it. Have you heard those recordings? The Messenger has something more ambitious in mind. He seems to think he’s planning the end of civilization as we know it. But I have no idea what that plan entails.”
“Whatever it is, it’s coming soon,” June said. “Lewis and I just talked to a guy named Troy Boxall who says they moved the date up.”
Lewis frowned. “Faraday, did you ever go back out to the compound, get more intel on what they’re up to?”
“Isaac stepped back, so I did, too. At the time, I thought I was too busy.” The security man shook his head and lowered his eyes. “Now I think I just didn’t want to know. I wanted to pretend everything would be fine.”
June turned to Wilkinson. “Would you talk with the police? We’re having trouble getting them to take this threat seriously. A call from Isaac Wilkinson might get their attention.”
“I already called the Seattle police on Isaac’s behalf,” Faraday said. “Four days ago. I spoke with a captain who said the area was outside his jurisdiction. He told me he’d speak to the appropriate county sheriffs and someone would get back to me. But we’ve heard nothing since.”
June’s stomach sank. “The captain you spoke to. What was his name?”
“Captain Durant,” Faraday said. “Why do you ask?”