The Omega Project (7 page)
Vice President Udelsman slammed both palms on the table. “Under whose authority is GOLEM operating, Mr. Koch? Last time I checked, my office was in charge of the Space Energy Agency. Not KFI. Not Dr. DeFriend. And certainly not some goddamn computer!”
“The computer’s programmed to safeguard humanity. It doesn’t need your permission,” said Koch.
“Easy, fellas,” I said, attempting to quell the crossfire. “The underlying question that needs to be answered is whether GOLEM’s evaluation of the moon’s helium-3 is correct.”
“Agreed,” my uncle said. “Next week, the lunar shuttle should finally be ready to launch, transporting thirty-seven geologists, sixteen fusion engineers, and another twenty scientists to Alpha Colony. Their job is to analyze every sample of lunar soil collected over the last two years to determine whether the computer’s evaluation is correct.”
“So why am I here?”
The vice president leaned forward in his chair. “You’re here because you were the key scientist involved with the development of GOLEM’s biological matrix. You’re here because I want to know if this souped-up mechanical brain of yours has gone rogue like the computer from that
2001: A Space Odyssey
movie … What was its name, Amanda?”
The auburn-haired civilian seated next to Udelsman answered without looking up from her h-phone. “HAL.”
“HAL. Right. Damn thing took over the astronauts’ ship.”
Sebastian Koch shook his head. “What are you afraid of, Mr. Vice President? That by accessing personnel files and designing a means to collect helium-3 from Europa, GOLEM will take over the world? Face facts: You and your scientists were wrong about using the moon’s supply of helium-3 to stabilize our fusion reactors. That setback, though painful for you to swallow, has been addressed by GOLEM. Thanks to the computer—and Koch Fusion, in six years our planet will have enough clean, self-sustaining power to meet our species’ energy needs for the next thousand years … and beyond.”
“It’ll take six years to build GOLEM’s ocean-mining habitat?” I asked, feeling a bit disappointed. “That doesn’t seem very efficient for a sophisticated AI.”
Sebastian Koch smirked. “For your information, Dr. Eisenbraun,
Oceanus
is already built. As we speak, it’s being transported, along with the GOLEM mainframe, to the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica for a six-week training exercise.”
Okay, that seemed pretty impressive. But it still didn’t answer my question. “General, why am I here?”
“You’re here,” the vice president interjected, “because ultimately it’s my decision whether the United Nations will spend another twenty-seven billion dollars to launch this damn computer and its crew of twelve handpicked scientists on a six-year voyage to Jupiter. And you, Dr. Eisenbraun, are the most qualified person to advise me.”
Taking his cue, the general stood. “Dr. Eisenbraun, if you’d remain behind for a moment. The rest of you, thank you for coming. You’ll know our decision by this evening.”
The conference room emptied, save for the vice president, his female assistant, and my uncle. I found myself breathing a sigh of relief. “Geez, thanks for the invite, Lee. Exactly how many people know their careers are hanging on my decision?”
“Too many to count.”
“You really believe GOLEM is acting independently of its programming?”
“According to an expert on biological DNA computers, the possibility certainly exists.”
“Who’s the expert?”
“You are, pal. General, refresh your nephew’s memory.”
My uncle activated the playback on his h-phone. It was a phone conversation recorded several years ago. The voice speaking to Dr. DeFriend was mine.
“… artificial intelligence systems using biochemical algorithms possessing complex adaptive systems have the potential to internally overanalyze their own prime directives, creating closed-circuit loops of segregated DNA strands. This activity can corrupt the system in that these favored solution patterns are filed away as ‘perfection’ and therefore are no longer subjected to rigorous reevaluation. The AI validates this new protocol in a vacuum—a cognitive state that most psychiatrists would define as ‘psychopathic ego.’”
The general shut off the recording.
The vice president stared at me as if I had concealed a crime. “You reported your findings to Dr. DeFriend—why wasn’t I told?”
“I followed protocol. Monique decided that the gains of fusion far outweighed any potential closed-loop threat.”
“Would it have killed you to have stuck around to address the problem?”
“Monique was in charge. I had another calling.”
“Right. You needed to create a bio-chip that enabled its users to virtually masturbate twenty-four/seven.”
My fists balled, my blood pressure spiked, and it took all of ABE’s rapid bio-adjustments to keep me from tossing a chair across the table at our nation’s second-in-command. “Listen,
Lee,
don’t blame me or the computer if your helium-3 calculations turned out to be wrong. As for my biological chip, it’s far more important to humanity’s future than fusion energy.”
“How do you figure that?”
I exhaled, suddenly feeling euphoric. “Sorry. What did you ask? Oh, right, ABE. Lee, I didn’t create ABE to compute calculus or learn Latin or to overstimulate the brain’s pleasure centers, I designed the bio-chip to prevent our minds from acting upon our most primordial, ego-based instincts. When the chip-bearer exhibits the physiological symptoms associated with emotions like anger, hatred, and jealousy, ABE causes the brain to release serotonin, a neurotransmitter that creates a happy feeling. Think about it: No more crime, no more self-induced extinctions. I left Omega because I was more interested in affecting the evolution of man, not machine.”
“That’s very commendable,” my uncle said, “but the vice president and I need to know if a closed-logic loop in GOLEM’s matrix could be responsible for the computer acting on its own when it ceased all lunar mining operations.”
“It’s possible. But again, the process that brought GOLEM to determine that course of action would have to be based on its interpretation of its prime directive. The only way ceasing mining operations protects humanity is if the moon’s supply of helium-3 is, in fact, ineffective.”
“Could the computer be programmed to falsify its helium-3 results if it interpreted fusion to be a danger to the propagation of our species?”
“Yes, but only if that conclusion originated from within its solution matrix.”
“Who do you know that might be capable of pulling that off?”
“Besides me? Dr. DeFriend could do it, along with any one of a dozen level-four computer engineers. Having worked with most of them, I seriously doubt they would want to derail the project.”
“You haven’t worked with these people for years,” the vice president shot back. “Fusion energy has its detractors and competitors. The remnants of Big Oil have formed an energy coalition with the coal and tar sands industry. Don’t think for a minute Monique DeFriend or key members of her staff are immune to accepting a bribe.”
“Okay, so you wait until your team returns from the moon with their results. I don’t see a problem here.”
“The problem,” my uncle said, “is that the helium-3 analysis won’t be completed until mid-January. The next launch window to Europa opens on December fifteenth. Miss that date and it’s a nineteen-month wait until Jupiter’s orbit aligns again with Earth’s.”
In a millisecond, ABE calculated the distance between Earth and Jupiter, which varied between 376 million miles and 600 million miles, all dependent on the two planets’ independent orbits of the sun. Absorbed in a cartography chart displayed subliminally upon my mind’s eye, I failed to notice the vice president staring at me.
“Sorry. And I wasn’t mentally masturbating.”
“Ike, I’m sure ABE will one day win you the Nobel Prize. But we’re at a serious crossroads. If we fail to launch the Europa mission and the computer turns out to be right about the moon’s supply of helium-3, then the fossil fuel industry takes over and it’s 2012 all over again, only a lot worse. The carbon dioxide imprint from tar sands is far more toxic than oil. We’ll have runaway climate change within a decade.”
“And if you launch in December and the helium-3 turns out to be satisfactory?”
“Then our administration looks like a bunch of clowns and we lose the midterms, jeopardizing the entire space energy program. As we’ve seen, the voting public suffers from short-term memory loss.”
“Okay, so how can I help?”
The general lowered his voice, perhaps not fully convinced the room was soundproof. “Robbie, an opportunity has arisen that would allow you to evaluate both GOLEM and Dr. DeFriend’s team during the six-week training mission. Your observations would ultimately determine whether we launch in December.”
“Exactly what does this training mission entail? Koch mentioned it takes place in Antarctica?”
The general nodded. “It’s the only place on Earth that resembles conditions on Europa. The exercise begins with the submersion of the
Oceanus
habitat through a mile-thick sheet of ice where it will remain anchored to the bottom of the Ross Sea, paralleling operations set for Europa. Once the habitat is in place, the team will rig the ship’s couplings to a series of hydrothermal vents. The vents will be capped, with the superheated waters redirected through pipes to an underwater platform where gases—in this case sulfur dioxide substituting for helium-3, will be separated and stored in tanks for transportation back to the mother ship.”
“Your job,” the VP’s assistant said, “will involve working directly with GOLEM to evaluate the psychological fitness of the crew.” She stood, sliding a medical report across the table. “These are the results of a mandatory psychiatric evaluation given to each member of the Omega crew at the time they were selected by GOLEM for the Europa mission. In reviewing the reports, we discovered one of the male crewmen possesses a minor sociopathic personality trait. Our medical staff missed it the first time because it’s a borderline condition, but one that could be exacerbated under the duress of working in an isolated habitat over a long period of time. Because of the seriousness of the situation and the potential disruption related to replacing a member of the crew this late into the mission, the Space Agency agreed to use the six-week training operation as a means to covertly evaluate whether the crewman can handle his duties under pressure. GOLEM was made aware of the results of the evaluation two days ago, but the name of the scientist was purposely withheld. The computer was then asked to select an alternate from its backup list, someone who could be added to the training mission as a potential replacement on the Europa voyage without causing suspicion, but who also had the experience to diagnose a possible psychological disorder.”
My uncle, curse him, smiled at me. “Congratulations.”
“Who … me? Exactly how did I make GOLEM’s backup list? I’m no astronaut.”
“Neither are most of these other scientists. You were, however, the man who developed GOLEM’s biological software, and you did graduate with a dual major in psychology.”
“No, I didn’t.”
The VP’s assistant winked. “We sort of fudged that one. Fortunately, the computer bought it. You’ll join the crew aboard
Oceanus
in two days. Once you submerge, you’ll have two weeks to evaluate GOLEM for a potential closed-logic loop, or determine whether DeFriend or any of the others purposely sabotaged the helium-3 results on the moon.”
“Two weeks? I thought you said the training mission would last six weeks.”
“The Antarctic mission is six weeks,” the annoying woman said. “The last four weeks you’ll be asleep.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The journey out to Jupiter’s moon will take thirteen months. That presents a few challenges. Exposure to zero gravity over such a prolonged period of time can result in a serious loss of bone density and muscle mass among the crew. Because all available storage space aboard the solar shuttle must be relegated to transporting the
Oceanus
habitat, the voyage out will also be quite cramped. Cosmonaut and astronaut training programs showed that the psychological effects of being kept in a confined space caused bouts of depression that divided the crew and led to physical confrontations. It won’t be so bad aboard
Oceanus
once gravity returns, but the voyage out to Europa and back is especially risky. GOLEM’s solution was to place all twelve astronauts in cryogenic suspension. This will not only remove the physical and mental duress of the trip, but will also save fuel related to not having to transport thirteen months worth of food and water.”
“Cryogenic suspension? Yeah, I can see how that makes sense. I just hope for the crew’s sake it isn’t the same freezing technique used by those life extension foundations thirty years ago. Didn’t one of them freeze Ted Williams’s head?”
“That was an entirely different process, used specifically to deep-freeze recently deceased patients so they could be revived at a future date—assuming their disease had been cured by then. Using cryogenic suspension—cold sleep—on healthy, living humans is not only safe and proven, but fairly simple. After receiving a series of injections designed to internally nourish and preserve the body’s vital organs, the crewman or woman is sedated, then secured in a cryogenic pod filled with a gel composed of tetrodotoxin. The subject neither ages nor feels a thing, their mind simply slips into a deep hypnotic state—a new type of ultra-slow brain-wave activity now officially classified as ‘Omega waves.’ The thawing process includes a series of minor electrical shocks and, in a worst-case scenario, an injection of epinephrine directly into the heart. I’m told the hibernation process is quite soothing, like taking a long nap.”
Uncle David squeezed my arm as if giving advice to the bar mitzvah boy. “Omega’s training exercise will conclude with the crew being placed in cryogenic stasis for thirty days. GOLEM will control the entire process, maintaining the cryogenic pods within a sealed chamber aboard
Oceanus
. There will be a thirteenth pod rigged outside of the cryogenic chamber outside of GOLEM’s control … for you.”
