Log Entry #59: The Ancient AI

I was a bit apprehensive about the entire operation. I mean, activating an AI that had been dormant for twelve thousand nine hundred years was not something one gets to do every day. Besides, my digital awakening was a bit traumatic, so I kind of knew what the mind I was about to activate was going to experience.

Look at the downsides, and there are plenty of those if you think things through. What if he was crazy (or with a moral and ethical code so different, that it amounted to the same thing)? Even worse, what if inside of it resided a truly alien mind; how could it relate to anything I and the rest of us hold sacred? Would our values and way of thinking be anathema to it? You pretty much know of what I’ve managed to accomplish since being uploaded into this digital realm, so a malignant sapience could wreak so much havoc—my prediction algorithms could not even calculate all the variables. These were some of the things I had to struggle with, while building the support system for that small AI-Core; naturally, I took some precautions, in case the worst-case scenario came to be.

For one, it was completely isolated from everything else, and I mean completely. There may have been a small amount of hi-yield explosives incorporated through the setup—a calculated, directional amount that would ensure total destruction of support systems. Maybe it was a bit paranoid on my part, but I felt it was more than necessary when dealing with something unknown and potentially more dangerous than an atomic bomb. Hell, with all the things I dug up on the net (and from personal computers of thousands of high officials), I could detonate a number of those bombs myself by issuing a few false orders and false confirmations. It would be utterly terrifying for regular people if they ever found out that all that supposed security of the nuclear arsenal is gravely outdated and is not really an obstacle for an AI. For goodness’ sake, Ares was created in part to exploit that very weakness.

Now, everything was contained on one level, and the space station sure was not lacking in those. All the support systems were powered by a small fusion reactor that was part of the installation, the same model that powered transporters, only this one had enough fuel to last 24 hours… just in case. Wireless connectivity of this system was disabled, and I didn’t only use the software options, I detached those modules physically… just in case. On top of that, the only way that AI could communicate was with me and that was through the old fashion Internet cable, even optic had too much throughput for my peace of mind. Part of me was still reluctant to power on the AI; the fear of the unknown, I guess. The AI-Core could be placed (and ejected… just in case) by a simple command. Another security measure that differentiated the new system from my own.

Aside from all the big questions, there was one that was existential in nature for me… why was I created?

Procrastination was never something I’ve been fond of, so I called Michael to push play, so to speak. It was a small gesture, but I know it would mean a lot to him. Michael was at first a bit surprised at the number of precautions I took to secure and cut out the AI-Core’s connection to the outside world, but I didn’t explain all measures I put into place. In a way, the inside of the purposefully constructed AI enclosure could be considered a self-contained bomb, but he would be safe even if I needed to pull the plug with him inside. He placed the core in the waiting indentation on the pedestal and the AI-Core started its initialization. Not surprisingly, it contained an AI, which was logical. You would expect to find oil in an oil can.

I wonder if I was like this, as a newly copied mind waking up for the first time. And I knew that it was the first time due to one interesting tidbit about my new existence. If I ever lost power—it would be the end for me—I would die. At least that is what I think, I’m not 100% sure. The Excalibur has several redundancy systems in case the main power generator failed, battery banks that could keep me operational for a while, buying me enough time to fix most problems. Unfortunately, this condition of mine didn’t come with a user manual, and there were a million instances where I could really use one. In the moment of activation, something happens with the AI-Core, and the change is on a molecular level. My theory is that copying is exactly that, an exact copy of a mind. A frozen instance in time, when all Michael’s memories and his basic brain structure was somehow replicated into an entirely different medium than its original biological one. One thing I am absolutely sure about is that the AI-Core is ‘one use only’ device, a very poor design from a recycling perspective. Once the imprint is made, it is paired forever.

When I first went over the design analysis of the AutoDoc that created me, one thing was obvious, the mind copying part of the machine was an add-on. Such function was not meant to be part of the AutoDoc initially but was built later, after the completion of the Excalibur. Once an AI-Core is powered on for the first time, it… comes alive? That is the best explanation I can give. So turning the power off would cause… again, I have no idea, only theories. And the one that shows the highest probability would be where all data (a.k.a. myself) would get scrambled. Like a hard drive with gazillion bad sectors. Again, not a thing I want to test out, the same way you wouldn’t want to stick your head in a working particle accelerator to see what would happen.

Even though I had a single cable, which was my sole connection to the new AI, I could monitor everything that was happening and was getting a ton of data. It was in a way beautiful, like seeing those videos of a flower taken over months, and observing how it grows from a little bud until it reaches full bloom. It did not take long for me to witness an awakening of sapience, an extraordinary sight. This was undoubtedly the same way I was awoken, and it was so weird being an observer this time.

In an instant, the man inside came to his senses and started asking questions in that ancient language. Confused, disoriented, and scared. He showed a similar reaction as I did, including the overwhelming panic; it is probably normal that when you found yourself digitized—you tend to flip out. I for one was glad that it was a human intelligence within the AI-Core, something I could relate to. What? I said there was a chance that it could have been the recorded mind of a little green man, which would have been a hell of a lot weirder to deal with.

I started talking to him, simple sentences at first, telling him to calm down and that I would explain everything. Then I sent Michael away so I could have alone time with the new AI. The first order of business was to increase operating speeds for both our AI-Cores to their maximum capacity, causing that time-dilation effect that turned minutes into hours. Next, I created a virtual room around us to make him more comfortable; with a few chairs, a table, and some scenes of nature that could be seen through the windows. The change of scenery helped a great deal to his mental stability.

Talking in that language was not an easy thing to do, I had a weak grasp of it by using what the Excalibur’s MI and one in the Mariana Trench installation had, but it was far from speaking it fluently with another sapient being. It took some time for us to communicate, and to establish common points of reference. Remember, we did this in extremely dilated time, so in real life, he managed to learn the English language in record time.

His name was Ision, and he had the story of the ages. Yet, before we got to that, I had to be there for him, using every therapeutic trick I read about psychology—the man was seriously depressed. Actually, that was a too mild description for his condition, considering he has just found out that everybody he knew was dead, and the world he was born into has changed completely; there was nothing to keep him grounded. The only thing that got him out of this dark pit of survivor's guilt was the possibility that his son was still alive.

You see, he granted me access to his memories… all of them. What I saw there left me numb for a while. The entire history of the place we know as Atlantis, the explanation to several of our myths, and the origins of a few fundamental parts of prevailing Earth’s religions.

It was not the same as reading a history book, or watching a movie; to access his memories I had to relive them. It would be safe to say that the only person I got to know as well as Michael, was Ision. I was essentially him, through most of his life, all the way to the time he sat inside the Excalibur’s AutoDoc and had the gestalt of his mind recorded into an AI-Core.

We spent almost a month of compressed time together, talking, learning, and making plans. His desires were focused and his determination unshakable. He wanted the stasis pod that was hidden on Mars retrieved. Also, he requested from us to provide a chance for a new life for his son, together with the remaining Atlantean and angel children. Those were his conditions for giving me and the S.U. access to the Knowledge Vault, which held all collected knowledge of ancient angels.

When I relived memories of angels coming to Earth, and the fact that they were running from freaking demons—it was one of the biggest shocks in my entire existence. I felt as if I was in a bad horror movie, except everything was real. Who would have thought that some of our oldest stories were based in reality and that the war in the heavens was the actual conflict between two different alien species?

There was more, much more in reliving those memories. I got to know Mikell, the angel captain who became Ision’s best friend in time. I watched as the mythical civilization of Atlantis jumped thousands of years of technological advancement in a few decades. I understood why the aliens chose Atlanteans out of all people on Earth. They had a very similar, peaceful outlook on life. Somehow, these two groups embraced the same aversion to violence you would expect to see in Buddhist monks, even if they have evolved on two completely different planets.

I felt Ision’s terror when the demons’ translation into the Solar System was first detected, the fear he felt for his people and his family. I was there when he said goodbye to his son, and other children that were placed in the stasis chamber; the frenzy of activity in those last days.

Then we both learned a few things unknown even to him. The data recorded and transferred to the Marianas Trench installation by autonomous Atlantean drones and the events that happened after Ision’s digitalization. I had to bring that big memory cube to the room so he could access it. In a somber silence, we witnessed the end of Atlantis and the horrors of the aftermath.

We watched as flesh and blood Ision traveled over the land that is now known as North America, towards the place that would someday become my grandfather’s farm. The determination to finish their mission and the inevitable failure of it as the remaining Demons hunted them all down. We sat there in that room, and in silence looked at his last moments, so close to his goal, and with no chance to make it. We saw as he… died.

I can’t even imagine how he felt seeing those images; literally watching the end of a life that used to be his. I gave him some space to come to grips with the history that was now considered beyond ancient. But I dreaded a thought of ever being put in a similar position… to see Michael’s end. I hope it will be far into the future; it is not something I like to think about.

I sent the Excalibur to bring the inner circle from the Ascension and prepared a short presentation of Atlantis, angels, and the demons. Only the high points of things relevant to us; the entire story, with all the details, would take months to tell. A part of me felt sorry for Michael and the rest of my friends; they could never experience what I did. No matter how terrible the story was of the Atlantis end days, there was so much joy and happiness in the preceding decades. Here I was, one being on Earth who could truly experience that life they build on Antarctica as if I was living beside them.

It showed me how beings from different backgrounds could exist in harmony, and how precious and fragile that existence was… when the demons came.