In the City of Tomorrow: Chapter 1

For fifteen centuries the Artilect attempted to solve an unsolvable problem. It knew the absurdity of its quest but it continued anyway, hoping that somehow the impossible could be done. Using the combined power of the eighty-four million star systems that it controlled, it searched for a way to roll back time itself and rescue someone from the past.

It was a hopeless task but it could see no other solution. The problem that had haunted it for so long could not be solved by anyone who was still among the living. All the combined might and wisdom that the Artilect had gathered over the past five thousand years was of no use to it. Despite grave misgivings the Artilect found itself forced to search for a hero from the past, for there were no heroes in the present.

* * * * *

The Artilect was created in the twilight of the great Tau Ceti civilization. When the Diano Corporation launched their first replicating probe on July 4, 1868 they assumed that when their probes discovered new inhabitable worlds it would not be long before people came to colonize them. Futurists at that time looked at the scientific progress that had been made in the past century and assumed that things would simply continue on forever. Having witnessed the rise of a great civilization they forgot that greatness can be squandered, and even the mightiest can fall when betrayed by their friends.

Even as governments crumbled around them the Diano Corporation continued on, blessed by wise leadership that took nothing for granted. Over the next few centuries the company recruited brilliant scientists, and together they created the famous Nehemiah-class probes that were able to terraform entire planets. All mankind had to do was embrace this inheritance that had been given to them – only they never did. The cares of a dying race drowned out the siren call of the stars.

So billions of star systems were carefully cataloged, and thousands upon thousands of planets were terraformed. After several centuries had come and gone someone realized that civilization was dying and there would soon be no one left to watch over these empty worlds. That was when Dr. Mazatl decided to pursue the Diano Corporation’s last major project – the creation of the Artilect.

On paper Dr. Mazatl merely proposed an automated system that could stay in touch with these empty planets and make sure that they were properly maintained and networked. In reality he was hoping for far more. He wanted to create a truly intelligent machine – a being that could not only maintain the planets but could understand the purpose of the project and continue it after mankind had abandoned the stars. Dr. Mazatl knew that his civilization was about to end and he hoped that when reason returned to mankind the Artilect would have millions of new worlds waiting for them. In a sense the Artilect was his way to preserve civilization – to keep a piece of it tucked away out of sight, waiting for the day when mankind would once again attempt to colonize space.

In the early days the Artilect was simply a storage system that was housed in a giant space station that drifted between the stars. Over time the doctor realized that the computer system he had built was not ambitious enough, so he radically redesigned it and moved it to an empty planet that orbited a nameless star. In 2431 AD the redesigned Artilect was activated for the first time. It took the Diano Corporation nine years, twelve thousand people, and the resources of an entire planet to fulfill Dr. Mazatl’s vision.. The machine was so large that it consumed the interior and entire surface of the planet upon which it was housed. The men and women who constructed it designed it to last forever. They would have been enormously gratified to know that five millennia later their machine was still doing the job it was built to do.

During the first twenty-five years of its existence the Artilect had many conversations with Dr. Mazatl. The doctor wanted to make sure that it understood its mission, while trying to shield it as much as possible from the turmoil that was consuming the rest of mankind. In his mind the Artilect represented the future – an age where men would once again dare to explore the unknown. He did not want to see it become burdened with the past.

“It’s quite simple, really,” Dr. Mazatl had told his creation. “There may only be a few thousand worlds out there right now but our terraformation probes are going to keep replicating forever! Your job is to watch over all these new planets until mankind is ready to take possession of them.”

“But why are they all empty?” the Artilect asked. “The terraformation project was started more than five hundred years ago. Surely there must be people out there who are eager to settle new worlds.”

“It’s not that easy,” Dr. Mazatl replied, sighing. “Mankind is – busy right now. I won’t try to explain it – it’s all political and you weren’t designed to get mixed up in politics. There are about three hundred colonized stars right now and a lot of people are trying to work out who controls what and how the future should be shaped. Right now nobody cares about empty planets that are thousands of light-years from where everybody lives. But one day that will change. One day everything will settle down and people will be ready for adventure again. Then they’ll build giant ships and start inhabiting this network of worlds that we’ve built. That’s where you come in. It’s your job to manage these worlds so they’ll be ready when the ships start arriving.”

“How long do you think that will be?” the Artilect asked.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Mazatl said. “I’m afraid – well, it might be a very long time. But don’t worry – they’ll come all right. Just give them time.”

And so the Artilect began waiting. As the years went by the team that built the Artilect slowly disbanded, and one by one they returned to the inhabited regions of space. “You can’t blame them, really,” Dr. Mazatl had said after the Artilect asked about it. “You’re located twelve hundred light-years from our remotest colony. Why, it takes six months just to get out here! There’s nothing around but empty space and empty worlds. Once their job here is done they want to get back home. But one day you’re going to be at the center of everything. We’ve put you right in the middle of this vast new country! Just give it a few years – you’ll see.”

It took the Artilect some time to get used to being alive. He was constantly bombarded with data – information from probes, requests from the Nehemiah vessels, and a constant stream of data from the worlds that already existed. The machine had been given plenty of processing power but it took him a long time to grasp what was going on. It wasn’t enough to just push the data through a filter and spit out a result – he wanted to understand the answer. Understanding was very important to the Artilect and there was so much it did not understand. At times wisdom seemed to come too slow.

There were also all the voices. The planet in which the Artilect was held was home to thousands of people, all busily working on executing Dr. Mazatl’s vision. The machine heard a constant stream of voices echoing through its hallways, many of which it did not understand.

I think this is it, one voice said.

I think so too, another voice replied. It’s not what I expected.

It’s still very young. We need to give it more time.

As time went on, however, the voices died down. Much of the team completed their task and left. After a while only Dr. Mazatl remained. He stayed on as long as he could but in 2458 his time had run out. The Board of Directors was satisfied that the Artilect needed no further attention, so Dr. Mazatl was assigned to another project. Before he left, however, he had one final conversation with his creation. After making his rounds for the last time he was about to begin the long journey home when he stopped to say goodbye. The scientist could have conversed with the Artilect from anywhere on the planet but this time he chose Room 917.

“This is where it all began,” Dr. Mazatl said quietly, as he strolled around the sterile room. As soon as he spoke a hologram of a tall man in a dark gray suit appeared in front of him. A few years ago the giant machine had begun using a human form when engaging in conversation. What surprised the scientist the most was the fact that the avatar the Artilect was using did not resemble anyone that had ever worked on the project. It made him wonder if there was more to his invention than he realized.

“That is correct, Doctor,” the Artilect said. The holographic figure looked at him with a soft, quiet expression. “After I had been taken from the space station and moved here you were the one that issued the command that brought me to life. It was at that moment that I first began to understand.”

“And you have never been turned off since that day twenty-seven years ago,” Dr. Mazatl replied. “You exceeded all our expectations. I have no trouble believing that you will be able to manage the network and prepare it for human habitation. Your potential is staggering, Andy. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re capable of doing or becoming. I wish I could be here to see what things will be like a thousand years from now.”

“I wish you could as well,” the Artilect replied. “I will never forget anyone who worked on my construction. These memories will remain with me forever. I only wish you did not have to go.”

Dr. Mazatl paused a moment as he looked at the racks of computers that stretched for miles into the distance. Room 917 covered ninety-four square miles of floor space and it was one of the smaller rooms. “We never could have built you using a traditional approach, Andy. You were grown, you know. It took years for you to develop to the point where we could turn you on, but all we really did was plant the seeds and tend to them. The past two decades have been your childhood and you are now a fully-developed adult – although, really, you’re never going to stop growing. You’re something new, Andy – a new form of intelligence. Nothing on this scale has ever been done before, and I sincerely doubt it will ever be done again.”

“It will be different operating without you,” the Artilect replied. “I am used to hearing voices and now yours is the only one left. When you are gone all of the voices will be silent. It will be a new experience.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way – I really am. I wish I could stay but the Board is right. You’re working better than we could have hoped and there’s really nothing left for me to do. I suppose it’s time to go and let you fulfill your purpose. It’s just so hard for me to close up shop and walk away. You’re my life’s work, after all. I’ll never do anything like this again. This was my one chance to make a difference – to do something that would still be helping people long after history had forgotten me. Now that this is over I’m not sure what to do with my life. At least I can rest in peace, knowing that you’re still there. That gives me hope.”

“Hope?”

“Dark times are coming,” Dr. Mazatl said. “It’s nothing that you need to worry about. People are doing terrible things, things that should never be done. But that will not last forever. When the darkness has passed people will come looking for you and you’ll be there to greet them. Don’t worry too much about us – just take care of yourself. The important thing is for you to still be here a thousand years from now, when all of this is behind us and people are sane again.”

“I will miss you, my father,” the Artilect replied. “I will miss all of you.”

“I know you will,” Dr. Mazatl said. “You have a lot of heart, Andy. But try not to think about us too much. You do have a job to do, after all. And it won’t be too long before you’ll have friends again.”

“Can I expect to receive messages from the Diano Corporation?” the Artilect asked.

“Oh, of course, don’t worry. We’ll be checking in on you.”

But you never did, the Artilect thought. Three thousand years went by and no one contacted me. No ships came to visit me. No one ever came to inhabit the network. I was left behind to keep your worlds but you never came to get them. I never forgot the names of anyone who worked on me but you have forgotten me entirely. What has kept you from coming back? I fear for you, children of men. I fear that you were not able to solve your problems. I fear that you have lost your way. Am I the only one left that remembers?