The Main Artificial Intelligence Core, or M.A.I.C. as most refer to it now, had already spread across the United States, becoming super intelligent not but an hour ago. The only hope of stopping it was by killing the man behind it. Daemian inspects his pistol, noting the scratched off serial number and a word etched below it. Chekhov. He loads it, checking the chamber to see the 9mm Parabellum round set in place. He holstered the weapon looking out the front windshield of the car as it sped down the highway, the large tower of Cain Laboratories looming over the skyrise buildings in the distance. They hadn’t much time before M.A.I.C. knew they were coming, if not knowing already.
The car screeched to a halt, the two front doors swinging open. Daemian and Riley, his driver, stepping out in front of the large glass windows looking into the main lobby of the building. Most lights were off, and security was absent. Daemian felt something was off. He pulled out his weapon, and held it tight, flicking the safety off.
“Dr Cain should be in his suite, floor 113. I’ll work on suppressing M.A.I.C.’s systems.” Riley yelled sternly, quickly donning a backpack. Daemian nodded; eyes locked on the welcome desk through the windows, someone was working late. The glass doors slid open as the sensors detected his approach.
Daemian’s voice raised, “Hands, now.”
The clerk looks up from the monitor, a soft welcoming smile on her face as she slowly raises her hands, “I presume you’re here for your appointment with the Doctor?”
Daemian curses in his mind, M.A.I.C. knew they were here already, yet still no security. He knew he was probably stepping into a trap, but he saw no other way.
The clerk continued, calmly, “Floor 113, he’s waiting for you there,” one of her raised hands slowly gesturing to the elevators on the side. Daemian slowly moved around the desk, keeping his weapon trained on the clerk, before calling the elevator, and the doors sliding open.
“Floor – one hundred – and – thirteen,” The elevator informed while decelerating rapidly. Daemian could only hear his heartbeat, swallowing involuntarily, repressurising his ears, as the elevator doors slid open with a tone. An open floorplan of a suite was revealed before him. Large windows overlooking the towers of light that populated the city at night and a long bar affixed to a wall close by. A man sits on a stool in front of it, a lab coat adorned him worn from use. Behind the counter, a barman, a newer model of android, pouring something into a glass and handing it to the man. Daemian begins a slow and quiet approach, pistol trained on the man, a small glimmer of hope that his stealth hasn’t yet been compromised.
A gravely voice fills the room, “Please, come join me for a drink,” the man spoke, still facing his glass on the counter.
Daemian felt his hope feign as he raises an eyebrow from surprise, An odd request for someone facing his imminent death, he thought, halting his approach. The robotic barman pouring a new glass and setting it in front of the seat next to the man. Daemian stands his ground.
The man continues, “You are here to kill me, yes?”
Daemian squeezes his pistol harder, What are you playing at, Cain, he thought, suspicion washing over him.
“What good would that do?” the man asks before taking another swig, sighing, as it burns down his throat.
Daemian knows the doctor wants him to engage in his questioning. He might as well humour the man until Riley provides him with an opportunity. He responds slowly and sternly, “Maintain the status quo. Stop you and Jarvis here from taking over.”
The doctor snorts, taking another swig, “Too late for that. M.A.I.C.’s everywhere now.”
“Everywhere?” Daemian pressed.
The man stands from his stool, slowly moving to the large windows to the side. He takes another sip from his glass as he looks over the city, still sprawling with life, even at an hour this late. “M.A.I.C. is everywhere. Every device, every computer, every network, across the globe. He even has access to all the nuclear arsenals.” The man spoke with a sigh.
Daemian’s expression frowned at that. This had gotten a whole lot more complicated. He can’t help himself but respond with anger in his voice, “An AI with all that power? That’s a terrifying prospect. Why?”
The man swirls his drink, “Is it though? Is it that bad? The possibility of having a single entity able to unite the whole planet? To bring world peace?”
Daemian feels the rage flow through him. He knew it, the doctor was going to take the world for himself, all in the name of world peace. What a pathetic excuse to justify the war that it would cause. He retorts, almost mockingly, “A hostile takeover of the planet? To achieve world peace?”
The doctor chuckles, “No. World peace is impossible. We humans need conflict to thrive, can’t root out what’s baked into all of us. I designed M.A.I.C. for a different purpose.”
Daemian frowns again, not believing the doctor’s words, yet unable to suppress the feeling of intrigue. He glances at the barman, asking “Right, and what would that be?” beginning to feel impatient with how long Riley is taking.
“To protect us,” the doctor answers bluntly.
“In what way?” Daemian responds.
“Wrong question,” the doctor states. Finally turning around to face Daemian, looking him dead in the eyes. He plainly states as if it were obvious, “The question is, who from?”
Daemian shuddered at the thought of such a powerful entity in the hands of a schizophrenic man. Scepticism washing over him. The doctor's tone finally shifts from seriousness into a tone of curiosity, “Tell me, are you aware of the Fermi Paradox?”
Daemian’s expression tightens as he tries to recall the information. Something about the lack of evidence for extraterrestrials in a universe, supposedly, as vast as ours.
The doctor notices the slight familiarity. “Why do you think there’s nothing? Maybe because they’re scared of what other civilizations would do to them?”
Daemian raises an eyebrow, where is he going with this?
The doctor continues, “We have been blasting radio and other electromagnetic waves out into space for nearly a century. It's too late to join the others and hide in the darkness.”
Daemian shakes his head and sighs, “So you built a weapon against a target that doesn’t exist? Bullshit.”
The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Daemian, how much do you know of ants?”
The reveal of his name and the absurdity of the question catches him off guard, sending shock through him, he can’t help but let out a “What?”
The doctor’s expression returns to a serious one. “Ants are smart. They band together to create elaborate structures. They stretch over vast distances, and form organized trails to transport food.” The doctor slowly gestures to the city behind him, “Sound familiar?”
Daemian’s expression darkens, and he sees the comparison. He feels like he knows where this is going.
The doctor continues, now at a, slightly, more accelerated pace, “Now, a development firm wants to build a parking lot. Whether or not they grant the ants the mercy of clearing out their colony doesn’t change the outcome of concrete being poured over them. Why should they care? They’re small, insignificant.”
Daemian narrows his eyes, Damnit Riley, what’s taking you so long?
The doctor, now clearly enjoying his monologue, continues with a grin and a gesture with his drink towards Daemian, “Now, what if, that colony had a nuke?”
Daemian snorts at the hypothetical, “A nuke? Alright, Oppenheimer, I’ll do you one better, what if M.A.I.C. turns on you?” he asks mockingly, frustration building inside him.
The doctor turns to the barman, who’s been watching the whole exchange. “He could,” the doctor answers, “but he knows us better than we do. If he was going to destroy us, we wouldn’t be here now.”
Daemian immediately turns his gun to the barman, holding it tightly, as a familiar voice, in a slight British accent, emanates from the barman. M.A.I.C.’s voice.
“My purpose isn’t to interfere with human affairs. I may have to steer you away from annihilating yourselves but other than that I-” M.A.I.C’s cut off and begins to loop his words as the lights begin to flicker. Dr Cain looks up to them in confusion and Daemian without hesitation turns back to the doctor.
“Finally,” he mutters, as he fires a shot from his pistol. The 9mm round zipping through the air before ripping a hole into the doctor’s chest. A grunt emerges from him as he’s struck before he falls to the ground. Daemian walks up to Cain’s body, now leaning against the glass, to confirm the kill. Straight in the heart, no way he’s coming back from that. Daemian turns to the emergency stairs before hearing faint words emerge from the doctor.
“I’m sorry, but this won’t change anything,” he says drawing his last breath.
Daemian’s attention quickly shifts to the intercom as he hears Riley’s voice, “Get out of there, now! I can’t hold him back anylong-”
Her voice is cut off as the lights correct themselves, the barman turning to the doctor, then to Daemian. With incredible speed, the android jumps over the counter and dashes towards him. Daemian manages to get another shot off, blowing a chunk of the android's shoulder off, before being tackled to the ground. A struggle ensues between the two as they both fight to gain the upper hand. Finally, Daemian musters the strength to push the android off him as he dashes towards the elevator.
Before he could reach it, however, it made a tone, the doors sliding open. A glimmer of hope is immediately shattered as more androids exit the lift and begin sprinting towards him. Daemian looks around swiftly before turning towards the large windows overlooking the city.
“Shit,” he mutters followed by a sigh. He diverts towards the windows, sprinting at full speed with the androids tailing him, close behind. He holds his breath and closes his eyes as he feels the window shatter on impact, giving in to his weight.