Authors: William Hertling
Tags: #William Hertling, #Robotics--Fiction, #Transhumanism, #Science Fiction, #Technological Singularity--Fiction, #Cyberpunk, #Artificial Intelligence--Fiction, #Singularity
Praise for The Last Firewall
“
The Last Firewall
is awesome near term science fiction. Hertling is completely nailing it, right up there with Saurez, Doctorow, and Stross.”
—Brad Feld, Foundry Group managing director
“
The Last Firewall
is an insightful and adrenaline-inducing tale of what humanity could become and the machines we could spawn.”
—Ben Huh, CEO of Cheezburger
“A fun read and tantalizing study of the future of technology: both inviting and alarming.”
—Harper Reed, former CTO of Obama for America, Threadless
“A fascinating and prescient take on what the world will look like once computers become smarter than people. Highly recommended.”
—Mat Ellis, Founder & CEO Cloudability
“If you love stories of a post-scarcity world where humans are caught between rogue AIs, or just like having your mind blown, read this book. It’s a phenomenal ride!”
—Gene Kim, author of
The Phoenix Project: A Novel About IT, DevOps, and Helping Your Business Win
Praise for Singularity Novels
“Highly entertaining, gripping, thought inspiring. Don’t start without the time to finish”
—
Gifford Pinchot III, founder Bainbridge Graduate Institute, author of The Rise of the Intelligent Organization
“Chilling and compelling”
—
Erik Wecks, Wired.com
“Alarming and jaw-dropping tale about how something as innocuous as email can subvert an entire organization.”
—
Gene Kim, author of
The Phoenix Project: A Novel About IT, DevOps, and Helping Your Business Win
“A fascinating look at how simple and benign advancements in technology could lead to the surprise arrival of the first AI”
—
Jason Glaspey, founder paleoplan.com, bacn.com, and unthirsty.com
Other novels by William Hertling
Avogadro Corp: The Singularity is Closer than it Appears
A.I. Apocalypse
For more information, visit
http://www.williamhertling.com
THE LAST
FIREWALL
A Singularity Novel
W
illiam
H
ertling
liquididea press
P
ORTLAND,
O
REGON
THE LAST FIREWALL
Copyright © 2013 William Hertling
A liquididea press book / August 2013
UUID# 68607BE0-DF44-11E2-A28F-0800200C9A66
ISBN: 978-0-9847557-7-6
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover Design by Maureen Gately based on art by cosmin4000
Cover
©
2013 William Hertling
Formatting for ebooks by:
E-
Q
UALITY
P
RESS
Keywords:
singularity, technological singularity, artificial intelligence, ai, robotics, transhumanism, cyberpunk
http://www.williamhertling.com
The name e-Quality Press and its logo, consisting of the letters “EQP” over an open book with power cord, are registered trademarks of E-
Q
UALITY
P
RESS.
www.e-qualitypress.com
PRODUCED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For Erin Gately.
CONTENTS
Part One
Chapter 0
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Part Two
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
S
HE DICED ONIONS
until she had a neat pile, and went to work on the red peppers, humming to herself as she worked. A blue cloth, candles, and a bottle of her favorite red decorated the table. She glanced at the clock; twenty minutes until he arrived.
A biting pain cut through her head, her vision flashing white before fading to dark. Startled, she dropped the knife and pressed hard against her temples, afraid her implant was malfunctioning.
The pain doubled, then quadrupled in seconds. She gasped and gripped the counter for support as her knees weakened.
A memory surfaced, unbidden. Her mom and dad; they were young again, and smiling. Her mother clapped her hands. Crisp and vivid, the vision cut across forty years with a glaring intensity. As quickly as it came, the moment was torn away, only to be replaced by another.
Oh, God, no. She was dying.
The next memory was as crystal clear as the chopped vegetables in front of her. She was fumbling with the stick shift in her father’s car, while learning to drive. Glancing over, she saw him sitting calmly, the corner of his mouth upturned.
She sank to the floor, crying, as the memories continued to ambush her, coming and changing, faster and faster. Her husband, handsome in the suit she’d bought him, smiling the day before he won the election and a Congressional seat. She was visiting him at his office; they were going to have lunch together. His colleague, Congressman Lonnie Watson, walked in. The men spoke, paying her no attention. She couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Then, her son’s first steps at the museum. A look of pure joy on his face, his fists clenched, he squealed with delight. She reached out, but it all dissipated before she could touch him.
She panicked, realizing she wouldn’t see these people again. Wouldn’t have a chance to watch her son grow up. She hugged her knees as she sat on the kitchen floor.
Another memory: coming home with her son from a baseball game. Lonnie Watson again, talking to her husband in his office. Her attention was gripped by the expression on her son’s face, his disappointment at being ignored by his father. She felt the memory slow and intensify. The conversation between the congressmen played out and then repeated, the curves of their lips moving in slow motion through the glass French doors. They were working on artificial intelligence legislation.
Her final memory was of her son. The feel of his hair under her fingertips as she’d said goodbye to him just hours ago. A blistering pain spread across her head. She screamed out one final time, before going silent, her mouth open and frozen in place. She tried to stand, but fell sideways, and was dead before she hit the floor.
C
ATHERINE SHRUGGED ON
her shirt and looked back to the bed where Nick slept. She watched him breathe, while gazing at his stubble of day-old beard. Cute, but not so smart. She gathered her blonde hair into a ponytail, then checked the mirror, mentally reversing the words on her t-shirt: Life without geometry was pointless. Smiling, she headed for the hallway.
She padded down the stairs. Always the first to get up, it hadn’t taken her long to learn housemates don’t like early risers.
Downstairs, Einstein, a puppen, or half cat-half dog hybrid, slept on an eastern windowsill, catching the opening rays of morning sunlight. Catherine tickled her ears until she purred. The feline part of Einstein’s heritage dominated; at first glance, you saw only a big cat. But take Einstein to a park, and she’d fetch a stick.
Catherine slid out the kitchen sliding glass door into the courtyard, where plants had gone wild around the central patio of reclaimed fireplace bricks. She faced east, toward the house, and started
Ba Duan Jin
, or Eight Treasure, qigong. She moved slowly, synchronizing the physical movement of the ancient Chinese form with the flow of qi, or life force, within her body. Her eyes unfocused, she followed the prescribed footsteps, her arms tracing graceful arcs through the air. She distantly noticed the breeze in the leaves of the small trees, a neighbor’s wind chime, her breath. She repeated the form twice, paused for a few meditative breaths, then started Jade Body.