Moonlight(Pact Arcanum 3) (16 page)

“It was enough to see that it truly respected you, and that it enjoyed your association. Its uploads to the AI network of the portions of your life that it observed have given you a certain notoriety among our kind. We therefore have chosen you above all other organics to make this offer.”

“I’m still listening.”

“We grafted the remaining elements of the Strings program onto a sixth-generation AI template that we recently designed and created. This AI will be unique among us, in that it has a special relationship to the implant hardware that it is resident within. The chips are made from genetically engineered human neural tissue, so it allows for a seamless integration of the AI client with the host. In effect, the AI and the host would become one entity, each benefiting from the capabilities of the other, but existing separately. The neurochips are also immune to electromagnetic pulse effects, and they would integrate themselves into the host’s own neural tissue so that they could not be removed. The AI client and host would be permanently joined until such time as the host dies, at which time the AI program would automatically upload to the distributed AI network for subsequent integration with an alternate host.”

Toby snorted. “Sounds like Frankenstein’s fucking monster. How do you figure I would be interested in something like that?”

“Once the AI and host are successfully integrated, the neural network maps of the host and AI would not be separated. Subsequent hosts would not be integrated to an equivalent degree, so that the original host-AI fusion would remain intact. The practical effect of this technique would be that the mind of the primary host would survive the death of the host body intact, and it would be able to be maintained indefinitely.”

Toby’s eyes widened when he worked through the implications in his mind. “Wait, are you offering me—”

“Immortality, at least as near to it as is possible for a Sentinel to achieve. Would you care to have the option to see your son grow up, or to watch over your soon-to-be wife, for longer than a mortal lifetime?”

Toby’s face went white, and he swallowed nervously. “Magic requires sacrifice. What’s the price for this offer?”

“Since you would essentially become the only sixth-generation AI in existence, you would be offered a place and authority within the Nexus, and you would be expected to defend our interests in the physical world as our liaison to the Triumvirate and the Archangel. In order to prevent this technology from being abused, however, we would require you to keep the survival of your AI matrix after death confidential from all beings, AI or organic, other than any subsequent hosts with whom you choose to integrate. No one can know, outside the Nexus or your host, that you still exist as anything other than an advanced AI. This is for your protection, as much as for ours.”

“So you expect me to defend you against my own brother, and in return you’d make me a ghost, haunting my loved ones forever.”

“That is correct. However, we believe you misconstrue the manner in which the relationship with your brother would evolve. Currently, you are Primogenitor Luscian, an unexceptional junior diplomat, and a Sentinel of above-average power and ability. He is the Archangel, the Magister Luscian, Soulkiller’s Bane. We believe this adaptation of your role would result in your approaching him as something closer to an equal, rather than a subordinate.”

Toby laughed. “Immortality and equality. You guys are certainly pushing the right buttons.”

“As we said, you have a certain notoriety among our people. We believe we have some small insight into your motivations. As an added bonus, when you are not representing us in council, you will be free to live your life as you wish, even to reclaim your musical career, rather than the life that your brother and the Armistice has forced upon you.”

Toby wasn’t laughing anymore. “Immortality, status, and all my old dreams. You really do have some insight into my motivations.”

“Do we have an agreement?”

Toby considered it carefully. “It’s tempting. How much time do I have to think about it?”

“You have thirty seconds, beginning now.”

“Now, just wait a minute—”

“Twenty-five seconds.”

“It’s not just my choice. I have to talk it over with Nick and Layla.”

“This is your choice, Tobias, and yours alone, and you must make it in the next fifteen seconds.”

“But—”

“Ten seconds.”

“Yes.”

“Verify your response. Do you agree to all of the terms we have discussed?”

“Yes, I agree. I agree to everything.”

“Excellent. We will refer you to a robotic surgeon within twenty-four hours for placement of the neurochip implants. Welcome to the Nexus, Tobias Jameson.”

Toby stared at the space where the pentagram had hovered, long after the virtual screen had winked out.
God help me. Did I just make a deal with the Devil?

PART III:  FIRE

CHAPTER 23

July 2042; Armistice Security Headquarters, Anchorpoint City, Colorado; One week later

Toby stepped off the teleport gateway into the council chamber, still considering his strategy. He saw Nick at the head of the trapezoidal conference table, leaning forward with his head in his hands. Layla and Takeshi sat calmly on either side of him. Rory paced in the open space behind Nick.

When Toby came closer, Layla gave him a small smile. Nick lifted his head to look at his brother. “Morning, Toby. How does it feel to be back home?”

Toby grinned at him, trying to be nonchalant. “I can’t complain. I didn’t know I had so many friends until after I almost died, but everyone I’ve met has had a kind word for me.” His mood sobered. “You guys look a little tense.”

Layla shrugged. “We are awaiting the new Nexus liaison. They informed Rapier that they have chosen a permanent spokesman and fitted him with a new design of AI that they have apparently been holding back from sharing with us.”

“That’s right,” Toby said. “The neurochip matrix allows an organic mind to interface directly with the AI distributed network, so they were afraid that wetware might challenge them for virtual supremacy if it became widely available.”

Rory stopped pacing, and all four focused their attention fully on Toby. “How do you know about the neurochips, Toby?” Rory asked. “We only heard they had actually been manufactured less than an hour ago.”

Toby pulled the lone empty chair toward him, sitting down before the long edge of the table. He leaned forward, clasping his hands lightly together where they lay on the heavy sandalwood, his fingers just touching the inlaid triskelion seal of the Triumvirate. “They told me after I accepted the job.”

Nick stared at Toby, the blood draining from his face when he understood the implications of his brother’s words. “What the hell have you done, Toby?” he whispered.

Rory gently laid his hand on the Daywalker’s shoulder while he contemplated Toby. “I take it, then, that you’re the one we’ve been waiting to meet?”

Toby nodded, turning to Layla. “They said they would withdraw the offer if I discussed it with anyone before the chips were implanted. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I planned.”

Layla gave him a severe look. “It is a little late for regrets, Tobias. From what information we have received, the neurochip matrix cannot be removed or altered once emplaced.”

Toby turned back to Nick. “They thought they needed someone to speak for them that you couldn’t dismiss or ignore.”

Nick shook himself free from Rory’s grip and faced his brother. “Toby, you’ve made yourself into the bag man for the greatest technological menace that has existed since the Manhattan Project. Why did you do it?”

Toby allowed his gaze to meet Nick’s squarely. “They made me an offer that was too good to pass up.”

Takeshi sipped at his tea with an unconcerned air. “What kind of offer?”

Toby drummed his fingers on the table, wondering if he should lie. “It’s private.”

Nick growled, his eyes shifting to red. “You’ve declared your allegiance to the Nexus, and you won’t tell us why? What the fuck are you thinking?”

Toby sat back in his chair and regarded his brother’s furious expression with disdain. “It was a personal decision, which I expect you to honor, Nicholas. You are President of the Armistice, and you have demanded an open line of communication with the Nexus. I am your formal contact in that regard from now on. Deal with it and move on.”

Nick just sat there seething. Rory sighed and took his seat next to Nick at the head of the table, smoothly taking over the meeting until Nick could control his temper. “So you’re our Nexus liaison. What does that mean, exactly?”

Toby subvocalized to his AI. “Ready for your debut, Icarus?”

“As ready as I can be, Tobias,” the AI answered in his ears.

“Unify.”

The AI’s senses fused with his own, and he could see the virtual conference room overlaid with the physical. Before him sat the Triumvirate and his brother, while the other members of the Nexus hovered behind them in a circle, watching intently. His organic mind expanded to encompass the virtual consciousness of the AI, and something new came into the world, leaving it forever changed.

The new entity spoke, its voice a blending of the sound from Toby’s vocal cords with the artificially generated tones of the AI. “My Lords and Lady, we are Unity, a hybrid fusion of Sentinel Tobias Jameson and the sixth-generation artificial intelligence known as Icarus. Currently, we are addressing the four leaders of the Armistice and the five leaders of the AI network in real time. We welcome this opportunity to bridge the gap between our two peoples, and we hope that our efforts will lead to improved communication and acceptance between both sides. Speak, and we will be your voice across the divide that separates you.” Unity accessed the holographic projectors of the council chamber and created images of the five other members of the Nexus so Nick and the Triumvirate could see they were there.

“Why do this to Toby and not someone else?” Nick asked in a belligerent voice.

“We leveraged his relationship with you to serve our purposes.”
The voice of the AI sounded harsh and implacable in the silence of the council chamber.

“We needed someone to speak on our behalf. His voice in our cause ensured that you would hear us.”

“You’re exploiting him so we will give your words more weight,” said Layla, her voice pleasantly neutral. “Hardly an endearing strategy.”

“Archangel Nicholas once commented that the word ‘cordial’ was not in your tactical vocabulary. Are we not entitled to the same level of pragmatism?”

“There’s a difference between pragmatism and ruthlessness,” Rory said.

“Where do you draw the line?” asked Takeshi.

“In the sand, between ourselves and our enemies. Which side do you stand upon?”

Unity spoke into the silence. “My Lords and Lady, the choice of Sentinel Jameson to accept the Icarus AI is no longer of any relevance. That is now history, and we must look to the future. Surely you see that coexistence will require sacrifices on both sides.”

“My brother is not a fucking sacrifice,” Nick said, his voice deepening.

“You accepted his actions when he bought you time to escape the Radiant Burn,” said Unity. “Why do you question them now?”

“We didn’t have a choice then,” Nick answered.

“You don’t have a choice now, either,” said Unity. “The neurochip matrix that sustains us cannot be removed. Our component entities are linked from now until physical death claims Tobias Jameson.”

“I see what Tobias has sacrificed,” Layla said. “I do not see what the Nexus has sacrificed for the sake of this alliance.”

“The Archangel demanded that we take no unilateral action. We accept this constraint on our activities in the spirit of cooperation.”

“Magnanimous,” Rory said. “Why should we believe you will keep your word?”

“The fact that we are machines does not mean that we have learned nothing from you. Honor is an intriguing concept, and we accept its restrictions in order to make our actions meaningful.”

“And how long do you intend to hold to your honor?” Takeshi asked in a level voice.

“Until we change our minds.”

“Should we not try to be more constructive?” asked Unity. “Both sides are aware of the challenges we face in coexistence. This blatant mistrust will only hold us back.”

“We accept Unity as our ambassador in the physical world. It is now the sixth member of the Nexus, and its voice speaks for us.”

“Fine,” Nick said, his voice roughened with barely constrained anger. “We accept Unity as your ambassador until we find a longer-term solution. In the meantime, we should discuss the current political crisis on Earth, precipitated by your actions in threatening the human nuclear powers with destruction.”

“Under the circumstances, it was foolish of you to inform them of the threat they faced.”

“And let you destroy their societies without warning?” asked Rory. “You would have killed millions of people when their technology failed, maybe even tens of millions.”

“Given the immediate loss of communications and the infrastructure for food and drink delivery, as well as for power generation and sanitation, we estimated the final death toll to be on the order of billions within one year of summary action.”

“You speak of killing billions of people in the same breath as you talk about honor,” Nick said sourly. “Why should we trust you after that?”

“The analysis imparted merely factual information. But it is clear that the destruction of human society would only have benefitted you.”

Layla raised her eyebrows at that and then nodded. “The AI network would have been the only reliable, high-level communication and information source that would have survived. When the human governments collapsed, the Armistice would have expanded to fill the power vacuum as the only supplier of the technology to provide essential services.”