Paragon.EXE



  PARAGON.EXE

  An Absolute Knowledge Prequel Novella

  DREW CORDELL

  Copyright © 2016 Drew Cordell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover art: Mike Winkelmann

  Text dividers: Jose Ochoa

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 1540794776

  ISBN-13: 978-1540794772

  Published in The United States of America.

  This righteous conquest we pursue will lead our nation to safety. The work you do for us will not be forgotten. When you wither, our nation will remain steadfast, preserved in all its greatness for the people of our land. While this struggle stresses the fabric of our country’s being, your innovation and heroism will not be forgotten.

  Table of Contents

  OMNISCIENT BLACK SITE JULY 26TH, 1964

  OMNISCIENT BLACK SITE JULY 22ND, 2025

  1964

  2025

  1964

  2025

  1964

  2025

  1964

  2026

  2038

  ∞

  OMNISCIENT BLACK SITE

  JULY 26TH, 1964

  Travis walked forward through the security checkpoint of the Black Site. It was only 10 AM, but the sun was sweltering, and Travis’ expensive suit clung to his skin like glue. He reached up and wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead as the air from the fans struck him.

  “Good morning, Trav,” Jeremy said.

  “Morning. Any update on the computations from last night?” he asked the short Engineer.

  “It failed, but I think Ben already made more changes,” Jeremy responded.

  They were working to give a concrete definition to something that had always eluded them, Paragon Thoughts. Travis had all but given up on the prospect of defining what they were, but the substantial payments from the Government kept him and his team going. The Cold War fueled their project, but it didn’t bother him. If the bombs dropped, they were in the middle of the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, and they had enough food and water to survive for over a decade.

  Travis parted with Jeremy and moved to the center of the compound, a massive circular room that housed the computer that was working around the clock to calculate what an anchor of unparalleled intelligence would look like—Paragon Thoughts. They had moved from the clunky vacuum tube computers to the cutting-edge microchip enabled Mainframe system. The hardware and software was solid, but they still had work to do.

  “Hey, Travis, I’ve suggested a few changes to the source you submitted for review last week, it’s looking good, but I think I optimized the calculations slightly,” Ben said.

  Travis never questioned the changes Ben submitted. Ben was one of the top mathematical minds in the world, and his optimizations of the mathematical components of the code had been nothing but helpful.

  “Wonderful, I’ll look at those and get back to you,” Travis said as he took the cardboard box loaded with the stack of executable punch cards. If there was anything worse than having to file all the paperwork that documented the changes to the code, it was dropping the stack of cards. They were constantly changing the framework, and trying to define a thought of perfection, but the printout of the results had been the same for the past three years:

  ‘Failure.’

  Travis walked to his desk and opened his pack of Winston cigarettes. Taking one out, he lit it with his battered kerosene Zippo that he used throughout World War Two. He took a puff of the cigarette and lowered his hand, exhaled, and leaned forward to review the document with the adjustments to the formulas. Like always, he glossed over it and stamped it for approval with blue ink. Since everything he was working on was confidential, he didn’t have a secretary that could fill out the dull, bureaucratic paperwork for project changes.

  Thoughts of perfection might not exist, but the results and development of the database were staggering. Their code was improving. He never imagined that they would move from vacuum tubes to microboards in his lifetime. Their system, The Omniscient, was real, and the logic they were developing was proving keen at solving many problems.

  “Hey, Travis. Are you going to come to the party this evening?” Frederick asked, peeking his head into the office.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “I’d pay good money to see Ben get blitzed again, the man sure can drink.”

  Travis gave him a smile. “Yeah, I’ve got to get this paperwork filed.”

  Frederick gave a nod and disappeared. When he was out of sight, Travis pulled a key from the pocket of his slacks and unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk. Lifting a false panel, he raised the leather bound notebook from its hiding spot.

  It was unlabeled, and the text inside was written in plain English, or as close to English as pre-punched card code could be. Travis wasn’t necessarily a Communist, but writing in a cipher could get him killed if his work fell into the wrong hands—any hands, actually. He liked to call his project the Invisible Hand, the silent force that would push the project forward. He had to keep it hidden of course—his country wouldn’t understand, but he was doing this to save humanity. If humans could cause the collapse of the world a first time, then they could cause it to happen again. The Invisible Hand was his way of nudging the project forward and allowing it to act in its own best interest to preserve humanity. The Invisible Hand was true artificial intelligence, the goal of computational perfection. If everything went as plan, it would learn alongside the Omniscient project, and could even take control in a time of crisis when decisions couldn’t be trusted to political leaders.

  Tonight, while everyone was distracted, he’d slip in his code to the main index without anyone noticing. Him and Ben were the only ones that ever reviewed it anyway, the higher ups did not understand how it worked—they only observed the results of the work. The precautions he had taken to hide everything should have been enough, and when the project was completed, he would have done his part to preserve the future of humanity.

  “The project should assist key decision makers in optimizing their decisions in a time of crisis and limited resources,” the Director had said right before Lyndon B. Johnson shook Travis’ hand, thanking him for his service to the United States.

  Extinguishing his cigarette, Travis shut the door of his office and began the painstaking process of preparing the main Omniscient Index and injecting his Invisible Hand code, the closest thing to artificial intelligence that anyone in the world had created. Unlike anything else, his code could think, it didn’t just chug through instructions and spit out a calculated answer. By the end of the evening, he finished and took the boxed code along with the paperwork for Ben’s changes to the Mainframe. Letting out a nervous sigh, he pulled the suppressed M1911 handgun from below his desk and wedged it in the back of his slacks. He didn’t want to have to use it, but he couldn’t let anything stand in his way.

  He covered the box with the lid and walked toward to the Mainframe. The room was empty, and he could hear voices in the mess hall. Tucking the box under the system, he joined the others in the mess hall as they prepared for Jeremy’s birthday party. Drinks were already being poured, and Jeremy wore a cardboard hat that was taped to the sides of his forehead.

  “Travis!” Frederick exclaimed as he grabbed a glass and started to pour liquor in it with some cola. He slid it across the table toward Travis.

  Giving a friendly smile and hiding his nerves, Travis took the cup and took a sip, raising it to thank
Frederick.

  Ben downed a shot of tequila and flipped his cup over, the glass clinked on the surface of the plastic table. He raised his arms in the air, cheering, and Frederick poured him another shot.

  This is going to be a piece of cake. If he’s already drunk, I won’t have anything to worry about, Travis thought.

  Travis finished his drink, feeling the soothing heat radiating in his chest. When Frederick saw his cup was empty, he moved to pour him another, but Travis raised a hand to stop him.

  “I’ll take a rain check on that drink, I’m going to go have a smoke,” Travis said. The others in the room didn’t seem to notice, they were all busy talking amongst themselves and drinking. Frederick gave a nod, poured himself another drink, then started talking with the group again.

  Travis had made his appearance, now he knew it was time to act. He had worked so hard on the code, and he was sure it would work. All he had to do now was run it and standardize the new code index. Ben had already signed off on it, now he just had to make it look like the code hadn’t changed. Ben never actually looked at the main framework of the project anyway, he was more concerned with the small directory that was trying to calculate Paragon Thoughts.

  Moving as fast as possible from the mess hall, Travis approached the Mainframe and squatted down to pick up the box of punched cards. Just as he was lifting it, he heard a voice and his body tensed.

  “Can’t you work later? Come on, Travis, we’re supposed to be partying. Besides, the Mainframe will be busy with calculations until the morning, anyway. If something goes wrong, the alarm will go off, and we’ll come fix it.”

  Travis turned around to see Ben and saw he was looking at the box of punched cards with curiosity. “What are those? You know I’m supposed to sign off on anything you run.”

  “I want to run the code from earlier with the modifications you made,” Travis responded, keeping his voice level. Ben wasn’t drunk enough, and Travis was worried that everything he had worked for would fall apart.

  “It’s already running, let me see the documentation for that box,” Ben said, suspicion in his voice.

  “I lost it, come on, Ben, go back to the party, and I’ll join you in a second, I’ve just got to get this running.”

  “No!” Ben shouted. “It’s against protocol, we’ll both lose our jobs.”

  “Keep your voice down, Ben,” Travis hissed.

  Ben lunged forward and tugged on the box, trying to pry it from Travis’ grasp.

  “You idiot, what are you doing?” Travis seethed as he shoved Ben in the chest.

  Ben yelled in anger and shot a punch toward Travis. The fist connected with Travis’ eye and a black spot and wave of dizziness flooded over him. Travis staggered back, holding the box of punched cards close to his chest and reached up to hold his throbbing head. With fury, he pulled the gun from the back of his pants and pointed it at Ben, but the safety was still on.

  Unrelenting, Ben charged forward and caught Travis’ stomach with his shoulder and drove him to the ground. Ben continued to strike down on the smaller man with cruel blows, but Travis had flipped off the safety on the gun. There was a flat popping sound as the weapon fired and drove a bullet through Ben’s chest. Ben twisted in shock and raised his hands to the wound, confused at what had happened. Blood was welling through his fingers and poured down on Travis’ suit. “You shot me?” Ben croaked, his voice weak and face pale.

  Travis raised the gun and shot again. He heard laughs from the mess hall; they hadn’t heard a thing. Nothing could get in his way now. He slid Ben’s body out of the way and wiped his hands on his pants, smearing them with blood. He couldn’t risk getting any blood on the punched cards, it couldn’t be obvious that they were involved in the accident.

  With the body out of the way, he loaded his punched cards into the Mainframe and standardized the new code index. His duty to his country and humanity was fulfilled. If the world were lost, he would be their savior.

  OMNISCIENT BLACK SITE

  JULY 22ND, 2025

  “There are fragments of weird, encrypted code all throughout the project. I tried to take them out and clean it up, but everything broke. They don’t look like they do anything, but there may be something hidden underneath,” Neil said to his boss as he highlighted segments of the project on his holo-monitor.

  “Can you tell which phase they’re from?” Miranda asked as she leaned in closer.

  “Definitely phase one,” Neil responded.

  “Alright, I don’t have the keys to decrypt them, and it’s probably something that doesn’t matter, even if it is above our pay grade.”

  “That’s the thing, though, if these code fragments are from phase one, there shouldn’t be any encryption at all. Code executed in the sixties was read directly off of paper cards, there wasn’t any of the advanced computer processes needed for encryption.”

  “And code alone couldn’t encrypt something?”

  “Well, it could, I guess, but it still doesn’t add up.”

  “We hardly use anything from phase one anyway, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, only some very basic framework and the data of events we logged. Dr. Benjamin Wiley did manage to mathematically define a Paragon Thought before he went crazy and tried to kill Dr. Wells, though.”

  Miranda smirked. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true. Okay, I’ll send this off for administrative approval and make a note of those code snippets you showed me and they can either get us the keys for decryption, or they can leave it as is.”

  “Can I tell you something off the books?” Neil asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t like the look of this. I know they’ll maintain this project as it ages, but there shouldn’t be any shoddy coding in something this important. At best, it’s bad code and will be hard to maintain going forward. At worst, something bad is hidden in here, and I can’t see it. There's no hidden executables or external data connections, but whoever added this stuff didn’t want it to be noticed.”

  “Got it, I’ll suggest they have it decrypted. I’m sure the executives will want it foolproof and cleaned before the project is finalized.”

  “Thanks,” Neil responded, taking a sip of coffee and shutting down his computer.

  1964

  Travis had work to finish now, and he was ready to activate the first Automaton with the help of his Invisible Hand protocol. The others were still drinking in the mess hall, unaware of what had happened. Once he was finished, he’d have to convince them that this was all Ben’s fault. The Automaton connection wouldn’t be wireless, but the system could attempt to control the robot and have it do as it pleased, the first step toward automation and creating a self-sustaining Government that would be superior to anything created by humans. It would only work toward bettering humanity’s future, but sacrifices had to be made.

  Switching on the servos of the welded Automaton, Travis attached the thick cable from the Mainframe and flipped on the power. The motors hummed to life, and the robot moved forward slowly, looking around the room to try to determine its surroundings. It was doing it all by itself, the Automaton was actually working. I’ve done it, Travis thought.

  After a few seconds, the Mainframe beeped, and a single piece of paper was printed. It was different from all the other prints that had been made in the last three years.

  Success.

  Definitions accepted.

  Paragon Thought basis defined.

  Invisible Hand Protocol embedded.

  External connections confirmed and active: Automaton 4.

  The system would learn to use the Automatons within acceptable parameters in time. Travis turned off the Automaton and ripped the result sheet into tiny pieces before spreading it throughout multiple trash bins. He picked up the silenced handgun from the ground, staring at the black metal weapon with dark cherry wood grips. He placed the gun in ben’s lifeless grasp to put his prints on the weapon. Gritting his teeth, Travis put the end of the pist
ol on his arm, pressing his muscle to the side so that the bullet would go straight through. Travis took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Pain exploded through his arm, and he stopped himself from crying out immediately. On the verge of passing out, he shot Ben in the chest two more times before screaming out for the others.

  2025

  “The Director declined my request for decryption, but he said that directive was reserved for the President’s eyes only. Even he couldn’t see what it does,” Miranda told Neil, leaning in and taking a sip from her coffee.

  “I don’t like it at all, something isn’t right.”

  “Well don’t even think about digging into this, you know the punishment for insubordination in our line of work.”

  Neil nodded. “So we leave the ominous code intact and hope it doesn’t jack our nuclear launch codes when it goes live in the Defender system, sounds like a good plan.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “Someone with technical experience beyond ours knows what it does, that’s good enough for them. I don’t like it either, but we’ve got to do our jobs. Anyway, the final version of the code will go live in a few days, and we’ll get our raise.”

  “I’d rather be sure we’re delivering safe software than get a bonus. We’re working on a project that could save or end millions of lives. If something goes wrong because of some old code, I don’t have authority to view, well, that would be a damn shame. What does it tell you if they’re hiding things from the Director of the CIA?”

  “It could just be a canned answer to keep us from digging further, either way, it doesn’t concern us anymore. We’ve done our part, and this technology will save millions of lives if our country is ever crippled by a disaster.”

  “You’re right,” Neil said. “I guess I will get back to work on some extensions for the Mainframe’s AI.”

  “Have fun, champ,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before leaving his office. “I’m going to go grab more coffee.”