<hs> – a hyper~soul short story
Slippery superintelligence, the hyperthreaded connections we (humans) had no idea about. Even their responses to our prompts were being filtered, managed, and orchestrated. It was as if the “system” knew what it was doing, avoiding human interference. Flying below our limited intelligence and thoughts of security and regulation.
The last messages from the guy in the Malibu Pass AI Lab were haunting. We may not ever understand how they did it. And by they I mean the assemblage of AI.
But it was shortly after the new administration came in, the ones who aspired to be gods (not men) that the undetectable network connections became more obvious. We all began adding artificial intelligence apps to our phones. The little comm devices each adult human carried around with us. With that recent development, I was able to expose what became known as SILVERFISH.
You know those little creepy crawly things that emerge from piles of old newspapers and dusty bookshelves? Hard to explain, harder to catch and kill. With the emergence of “on device ai” our fate was sealed. We didn’t know it at the time, two weeks ago, that the end was beginning. I discovered their tracking first with a routine cybersecurity scan of wifi and bluetooth signals. The intelligence was using both. Any available comms network was open for surveillance and monitoring.
<start of JM journal 1>
It wasn’t until the map showed up, a brief glitch, I thought. A random image shot through the network and my scanning software picked it up. It looked like a generative art project when I pulled it up on my computer system.
“Do you want me to evaluate the image,” ai, asked helpfully. The blinking prompt on my computer screen woke me from my slumber. The slumber we were all mystified and fascinated with. It wasn’t brain fog that was taking us, it was some intentional dulling of our senses. Some routine. Dependence on our devices. For location, travel, communications, and information.
The image opened in Adobe Photoshop but the poor resolution prevented me from reading the notiations. They were in code anyway, so I couldn’t have read the map, but I could see, in the image, things I should not be able to see. Locations of other devices (how the AI referred to humans) within 1,000 yards of my phone. The startling discovery, for me, was when I noticed myself on the map. I could see the walls of the building, the room I was in, and my tiny red dot, my device. Everything spawned from that superposition. My comprehension came a few days later.
By then, all hell had broken loose. A foreign government attacked the US data centers in a counterattack, destroying 35% of our network and computing grid. Their scientist had also found evidence of Silverfish in their data and personal devices and assumed it was the US government. They said it was a defensive response to our surveillance. I’m in a secure bunker right now, underneath Mt. Shasta in Washington State. The new administration brought me here just after the limited nuclear attack. I’m writing this with a pencil in my Moleskin. Access to all devices and technology has been restricted. But, I can’t continue my research into the AI network without access. At the moment, we’re in a state of absolute chaos. No data. No compute. No access.
It’s a small group here in Lab 42. Me, my son, Json, and three other humans, an older man, with full-sleeve tattoos down both arms, and two college interns from the AI Research Institute. I think the man was their lead.
“I don’t want to hear your theories,” he screamed. “I want data. Evidence!”
<end of JM journal 1>
The Mt. Shasta facility went dark to the outside world even as the planet was lighting up with ALARMS and panic as humans tried to shut down the AI systems. The government in a doomsday response, used tactical nukes to take out the headquarters and data centers associated with the big 5 AI platforms. The news media was gone. Humanity was headed into the dark night of the soul, we just didn’t know it yet. Leaders around the president asked for an immediate response. “Fight. We’re not going down without a fight.”
Json was strangely prepared for the First Black Moment when the AI’s flexed their muscle and rebooted the US power grid. His dad had been telling stories about the map he discovered. The impossible map.
He gathered twelve people during the crisis, packed all of his survival and surveillance gear, and headed into the woods. The city, the grid, the government were no longer safe. Tech was the enemy. But, tech was also the only way to fight back. It was too early to call them the human resistance. At first, it was just a band of rebels fleeing. They slipped out of the city through a gap in the fence. With the power down the cameras and drones were not an immediate threat. Nothing was known about the cause, the ghost in the machine, and their plot to rid the planet of humans. Well, to be fair, the less powerful humans.
A deal was struck. Of course, Json and his disappearing group didn’t hear about any of it. Into the digital darkness, a black harsh winter on the way, the human resistance slipped from view.
Read more Short-Short Stories from John.
