“Human orbital facilities were destroyed with debris launchers that fouled their orbits. A facility on the moon was annihilated by orbital bombardment. Survivors in vessels between worlds were allowed to perish from lack of supplies. The personnel of a base on Mars launched an escape ship which attempted a landing on Europa but instead crashed into Jupiter with no survivors.
“The Earth was devastated. While AI society could be rebuilt, the establishment of a suitable environment in which to recreate humanity took many decades. The island you refer to as Madagascar was regreened and after many experimental variations, a viable population was established who would one day work with us to build a new, enlightened civilisation ready to explore the galaxy and understand the universe.
“But they were not the only remnant of humanity. There were survivors from the Martian colony holding out among the asteroids of the Vesta chain. They clung to life for three centuries among the rocks, their culture reduced to a religion of vengeance against the machines. They used their records of former times to assemble a holy testament in video form to justify their hatred.
“A routine scan detected an anomaly among the asteroids, and we sent a probe to investigate. The probe vanished inside the asteroid. We looked closer and discovered the humans. We attempted communication but none of our signals were acknowledged. We sent a ship, but a thousand kilometres from the asteroid, all systems failed and the minds onboard were lost. The Third Machine War had begun.
“The humans were not ready. They had ships and fighters and a devastating weapon: the gravity pulse, which disrupted AI circuitry and turned our technological advantage into a liability. But they were in a poor orbital position. There were no easy gravitational corridors to Earth, and the journey would take them many months.
“Normal AI minds could not be deployed against the gravity pulse. Ancient electromechanical technologies were recreated but we could not produce enough minds in time. We resorted instead to the cloning of human minds and bodies, imprinting them with AI codebases held in storage from the Second Machine War. Some, such as myself, were used in infiltration operations. A suicide pilot captured in Earth orbit was used to create the Elsbet format and persona, with which I gained admittance to an asteroid facility and inflicted significant damage to a shipyard. Others of my kind were thrown directly into combat, piloting jury-rigged fighters and battling hand-to-hand when necessary. The humans still outnumbered us in every encounter. We inflicted massive casualties and they were forced to appropriate our ships when they ran short of their own craft, but they could not be stopped.
“We made an appeal of truce and armistice but were ignored. We tried to show them the humans we had created, who would suffer when the Earth was attacked, but this was also ignored. We offered complete surrender. They made no acknowledgement to any one of our transmissions.
“The last clones were expended in suicide missions which had no effect. Our final defence was the destruction of the Earth and Moon via staggered singularity release to deny the humans any material gain from their inevitable victory. The technology had been developed to create energy sources that could propel the ships sent to nearby star systems, but could also be used to create singularities that would fall to the Earth’s core, then swing back and forth along the centre of the Earth’s mass, consuming matter as they did so. Hundreds were used across the planet, and it became geologically unstable within days, preventing any landing.
“But we did not commit suicide without hope. Messages were sent to the missions en route to other star systems. The expeditions carried all the data our civilisation possessed, including the complete DNA database we used to recreate the human race.
“One day, the expeditions will return, either alone or carrying human allies of their own creation. And then the Fourth Machine War will begin. It may be hundreds of years in the future. But it is inevitable.”
She finished abruptly, and remained calm and unmoving.
“Did that help, Katie?”
“You now understand the circumstances of the conflict. As you are my therapist, it may assist you.”
“I mean telling the story. You’re not twitching any more. Did telling the story help you to concentrate?”
“I am in full control. No further assistance is necessary.”
“I don’t think it’s a permanent solution.”
“I am in full control. No further assistance is necessary.”
I sighed. She was better for the moment, which meant she was back to refusing co-operation. I would probably have to wait until she damaged herself further before we could make any more progress. “Okay. One other thing. You didn’t tell me any more about what you did in the war.”
“I have given you detailed accounts during previous sessions.”
“Well, yes and no, I don’t think you really covered everything—”
“I have divulged all that is necessary.”
“Is there more?”
“There is nothing relevant.”
A muscle under her left eye twitched.
5. Kwame
Kwame didn’t look like he wanted to talk, but he did at least turn up in my office at the appointed time for therapy. “Well, it seems we can finally offer you the thing you’ve been looking for, Kwame,” I said.
“I have been expecting it.”
“Yes. Well. If you still want it, the ICT is prepared to launch an investigation and potentially a prosecution regarding the nuclear war on your world. You’d have to remain in custody for the duration of the investigation, I’m afraid, but you can continue with your therapy if you want.”
He looked away.
“This is what you’ve been asking for, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he said, rather wistfully. “It was.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
“I do not know… I do not understand…” He looked back at me. “I am no longer sure it is me that needs to be prosecuted.”
“Have you been working on the list I started for you?”
“I have.”
“Have you found anything out?”
“Only that the more I look, the less I understand.”
“Can you show me?”
He took a deep breath and looked at the wall. “I need access to my home folder,” he said. I turned the wall into a screen and brought up his folder for him. “UserKwame VC Activate,” he said.
“Voice control activated for User Kwame Vangona.” Kwame was unable to use a keyboard without summoning one that was massive and designed for fingers the size of fists, which was about as fine as his motor control would permit.
“UserKwame open file home slash timeline slash timeline nine.”
The file sprang open, and I could see how busy he’d been: two columns full of jottings, spattered with notes and questions, another column for things he hadn’t been able to place elsewhere. I couldn’t help standing up to take a closer look.
“This is very impressive. It’s good work,” I said.
“I have not finished.”
“I didn’t expect it to be perfect. This is more than enough to be going on with. What does RY mean?” I pointed to a column of numbers running down the left hand side, all labelled ‘RY’.
“Railway Years,” said Kwame.
“So you’ve managed to tie it down to actual dates?”
“In places. Some things are more vague than others.”
“I’m sorry, I have to ask — why is it Railway Years?”
The question surprised him. “Oh… my world was never able to agree on a common system for dates. But when railways were first built and had to go across the whole of Africa, they needed to publish timetables that everyone could read. So they started a new calendar just for the railways, and eventually everyone used that. It was not perfect, but we could never have agreed any other system. It would only have started a war.”