The synthetic worm turned toward his voice.
Grady eased down onto the floor next to it. “Not bad at all.” He ate contentedly.
Refreshed, afterward Grady walked his cell again, circling the wire hanging down from the domed ceiling.
The wire had to lead somewhere. It hadn’t been there before Junior arrived—which meant Junior most likely brought it in with him. And that meant it had to have a purpose.
Grady now stared straight across the room at the still open diagnostic port in the wall. The wire hung just about low enough…
He walked over to the wire and carefully grabbed the connector at its end. Grady then guided it slowly over to the diagnostic port where he’d used the iris scanner. A quick peek confirmed the presence of a small socket next to the scanner. He studied the connector on the wire’s end.
They looked like a match.
He tugged at the wire, bringing it up to the socket, and found that it reached with little slack. He clicked the connector into the socket.
A loud pop sounded overhead, followed by several beeps. These continued for several moments at intervals.
Then Grady heard a man’s voice, the words formed with a posh Indian accent. “With whom am I speaking, please?” Then the same voice in another language, “Wo yu shui shuohua?”
Grady was immobilized with shock—and then suspicion. He remained silent.
“Avec qui je parle? With whom am I speaking?”
Grady moved to disconnect the line.
“Do not be afraid. I am a prisoner like you.”
Grady gripped the socket, ready to pull it out.
“Je suis un prisonnier comme vous.”
“How do I know you’re a prisoner?”
“American. What year were you taken, my friend?”
Grady took a deep breath. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“Hmm. I believe the operative question is: How can you be sure that I am human? Conversely: How can I be sure you are human? It is a reverse Turing test we are wanting.”
Grady pondered this.
“While I cannot rule out the possibility that my polymer worm has been captured by an AI, it would be unlikely. AIs are unimaginative creatures.”
Grady looked down at Junior. “You built this thing—from BTC technology?”
“Not I, but you are getting ahead of yourself, my friend. You have not determined whether to trust me, remember?”
“Oh.” Grady nodded. “Right.”
“How do we prove our humanity in a world where generalized artificial intelligence is commonplace?”
“I’m not sure I know.”
“In such a case we have found it useful to focus on areas where human intellect differs from that of machine intellect—specifically those areas concerned with bodily function.”
“We? There’s more than one of you?”
“Ah, first things first, my friend. Let us determine our humanity to both our satisfactions.”
“Using bodily functions. What? Fart jokes?”
“Something similar. Let me start. Please describe for me the fragrance of your wife’s genitalia.”
Grady scowled. “What the…? What the hell is your problem? How long have you been in here, anyway?”
“Ah, but don’t you see? I am now satisfied that you are human. Machine intelligence in its current state is indeed more powerful than the human brain—but narrowly focused. Unsubtle. No AI to which I posed that question would fail to describe the fragrance of a woman—oblivious to the social cues that would, between men, result almost certainly in fisticuffs.”
Grady looked uncertainly at the ceiling. “Okay. I guess that makes sense.” He thought about it some more. “And I can’t recall if I’m married, anyway.”
“I am sorry to hear your memory has been damaged. Are you at least satisfied with my humanity?”
Grady realized the guy was just strange enough to seem certifiably human. An eccentric genius no doubt. Grady felt relieved and happy to be talking to another human being. “Yes. In fact, it’s great to talk to you.”
“You should also wonder if I am a prison guard.”
“Then this isn’t just my private hell. It’s a prison.”
“Yes, my friend. You are in Hibernity, the BTC’s prison for wayward geniuses. It is a dubious honor, I am afraid.”
“And how do I rule out your being a guard?”
“By following the logic of your situation.”
“Okay.” He paused. “And that logic is…”
“Clearly you must follow the logic on your own, although I will get you started, if you like.”
“Go ahead.”
“The logic of your situation is that of centralized control. The BTC wants very few witnesses to what transpires here. The minds it has imprisoned in Hibernity are exceedingly rare and particularly prized. The guards, interchangeable, mere custodians with little knowledge of this place’s true purpose—which purpose is, of course, to develop a means to separate consciousness from free will. To subjugate and unify multiple consciousnesses and thus achieve a biological quantum grid. A machine of many souls but no identity.”
Grady felt dread all over again thinking about it. He started following the logic. “Which means they don’t want anyone to interact with us.”
“Correct. Guards are not permitted to interact with prisoners except in rare emergencies. They guard the prison, not us—and are in some ways prisoners themselves. Were one of them to interact with a prisoner, he would be swiftly and decisively punished.”
Grady looked around at the walls of his cell. “No one is ever going to let us out of here.”
“No one will ever come for us. As of last month, I have been imprisoned here for twenty-eight years.”
This news came crashing down on Grady like a great weight. “Twenty-eight…” His voice trailed off as he slumped down against the wall. “My God.”
“Please do not lose hope so soon, my friend.”
“But twenty-eight years. I… I don’t know that I—”
“My history is not your future. Much suffering has been experienced, but in the process much knowledge has also been gained. Do not lose hope.”
Grady tried to keep from sliding into an emotional abyss, but he finally sat up a bit. “Okay. I’ll try. But God… twenty-eight years.”
“We are entombed here, true, with the goal that we never speak to another human. Left to the mercy of AI interrogators that have been grown specifically to study our minds and create models of how we perceive our universe. By design we would eventually perish under their tyranny as they altered our brains. Perhaps a decade or fifteen years after our suffering began.”
“Oh God…”
“But we avoided that fate, did we not? And we must save the others who are no doubt still suffering. We must take back more and more of ourselves as time goes on.”
Grady found himself nodding. “Yes. Hell, yes.” He stood up and examined the incredibly thin black thread. “What is this wire made of?”
“The same fibers you no doubt still have in your brain.”
“And what happened to the brains they were in?”
“The donors are very much alive. The same systems that put those wires in your brain can also safely remove them. We can show you how.”