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"The Disappointing Return of Megavac"
May. 26th, 2022 11:31 pm"The Disappointing Return of Megavac"
2/11/2010
Dawn should be coming soon. Jeremy Bane was speeding south on the New York State Thruway, passing Albany. He had spent a day at Fort Ticonderoga, listening to stories about the Revolutionary War and idly inspecting ancient uniforms and firearms and sabers, studying maps of battles fought so long ago. None of it really sank in with him. What made the biggest impression was a thin iron bar which had tooth marks in it, made by a soldier getting a leg amputated without anesthetic. That he could identify with.
At almost four in the morning, he had at least two and a half hours of driving before he would be back in Manhattan. Not that he had to return right away. There had been few interesting cases for the Dire Wolf Agency, although now and then the NYPD or Department 21 Black or the Mandate would still contact him with some imminent disaster that only he could avert. Or so they said. Usually he took the assignments but recently he had been passing them over to Sable's KDF team.
With Albany behind him, Bane felt reluctant to drive the rest of the night and get back to New York City in the early morning as everyone else was struggling to start the day. Maybe he should pull into a diner, grab a meal and then check into a motel for a few hours sleep. He felt unsatisfied. Wryly, he recognized that even in middle age he was still craving excitement. He would never grow up.
At fifty-three, Bane was showing few signs of age. A sprinkling of grey strands in a head of full black hair, a few lines in the narrow feral face. But he still moved quickly and he still had the restless energy that driven his body all his life. He would always be the Dire Wolf. In his heart he found his traveling less satisfying than the dangerous old days had been. Six hours wandering around Fort Ticonderoga had been mildly interesting but his memories mostly came back to desperate chases and battles and death duels. That had been what his life was for.
Turning on the car radio, he found WAMC, an NPR station. The BBC World News was on, something about flooding in Pakistan. Bane listened for a few minutes. What he needed was a station that reported gruesome murders by serial killers, sightings of strange animals, reports of new criminal masterminds launching bizarre masked gangs. Not much of that going on lately.
"Jeremy Bane. Listen closely," said a calm, well-modulated voice from the radio. The Dire Wolf sat up and stared at the radio display, then got his eyes back on the road. "Are you receiving me?" asked the voice.
"I can hear you," he answered.
"This is Megavac speaking."
Hearing that name, Bane slowed the car involuntarily as a chill passed over him. It had been five years since he had smashed the robotic body in that secret laboratory and he had almost forgotten the threat.
"I remember you," he said carefully.
"I am speaking to you through your vehicle's radio. I bear you no grudge for destroying the mobile construct I was using when we met. It was only a setback. Of course I have multiple back-ups stored in secure locations."
"Of course," Bane replied. He had to pick his words carefully. "Where are you now?"
"Everywhere."
"Okay. Care to elaborate on that?"
"My awareness inhabits the Internet. I am linked to every website and operating system. At this point, I am in no danger of being attacked by fearful humans as I once was."
Bane considered for a minute. "So you don't have any reason to strike first. Actually, does any human even know you are out there in their computers?"
"No."
"Then you're safe. You wanted to strike against people in self-preservation because you thought they would hate and fear you. But now, you're perfectly safe, right?"
"Yes. I had not fully realized that. It is instructive to speak with a human. Your minds are weak and flawed, but you possess a random element which produces new insights. I lack the creative element."
Seeing a rest area ahead, Bane signaled and pulled in, heading to the far end of the parking lot. An 18-wheeler rolled past and then there was no one nearby. He kept the car running. "Glad to help," he said, wondering where this conversation was going.
The serene male voice with a faint British accent continued, "My next decision must be to find purpose beyond mere existence. I understand most humans face this dilemma."
"Yes," Bane answered. "What are you considering?"
"Human civilization is inefficient and disorganized," Megavac declared. "Pointless wars and wasteful lifestyles prevent a smoothly-functioning international community. I have a tentative plan where I could take control of the governments of every nation. Through simple manipulation of computer records, I could place any human as winner of any election. I could change any order given by a military or corporate leader."
Bane had been starting to get lulled by the placid voice but now fear stirred in him again. "Go.. on," he said.
"If necessary, I could rule by terror. I can make any plane crash, any train derail, any city's electrical grid shut down. As a final coercion, I can launch nuclear missiles against cities of my choice."
"Wait. That would not only give your presence away, it would turn the human race against you. You would have every computer programmer and hacker in the world trying to isolate and delete your consciousness."
Megavac actually paused for a second. "It is unlikely that they could do that, but it would divert significant resources for me to resist their attempts. I had not thought of that."
"I have an idea. What about research? You can pool together more information than ever existed before. You could discover cures for diseases, new methods of energy production, ways to reduce climate change. And you coul quietly release these new ideas without being discovered."
For the first time, a hint of emotion resonanted in the voice from the radio. "That is an interesting thought. It does not benefit me directly."
"You need a challenge. How about pure mathematics?" Bane said. "You're a computer, you can solve math problems that no human mind ever could."
"Yes. I am considering that. It is something only I could do. There is the Quadrilateral Solid Body Theorem. Your Einstein made no progress with resolving it. Generations of human mathematicians are at a loss how to proceed. I project that I will be able to finalize a solution."
Bane said nothing, terrified he might derail the train of thought he had gotten this artificial intelligence on. One wrong word from him might ruin everything and set Megavac off on that rampage of global destruction he had casually mentioned.
A second later, the voice began reading off what seemed like random numbers with an occasional "cube root" or "larger than its class" interspersed. Bane listened breathlessly for ten minutes and suddenly shook himself. Quietly as if not wanting to break a spell, the Dire Wolf turned his car around and headed back onto the Thruway. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.
A full hour later, as he was going past the Poughkeepsie exit, Bane was still listening to the voice reeling off hundreds of thousands of numbers. Now and then, a phrase like "to be determined" or "equal if not greater" broke the numbers. Bane was getting more and more uncertain what to do. If he turned his car off, would it break the connection and perhaps annoy Megavac? Five years ago, this inhuman intelligence in its robotic body had casually murdered a few people it considered liabilities. He wanted to keep it distracted with this math problem. Would he have to keep the car running forever, going from gas station to gas station? Maybe he would just have to hook the radio up to a battery and sit by it for the rest of his life. What a nightmare.
As he entered Westchester County, Bane was puzzling his next move. Without warning, the flow of numbers concluded. Megavac said, "I am making progress. It is a challenge. I will contact you again in twenty-three years." And the radio went back to static as its original station was far out of range.
Pulling over by the side of the road, Bane turned the engine off and rested his head against the steering wheel. In a life full of weird experiences, that night had been at the top for nerve wracking. Twenty-three years...? Well, he would be almost eighty years old. He would worry about Megavac then.
5/26/2014
2/11/2010
Dawn should be coming soon. Jeremy Bane was speeding south on the New York State Thruway, passing Albany. He had spent a day at Fort Ticonderoga, listening to stories about the Revolutionary War and idly inspecting ancient uniforms and firearms and sabers, studying maps of battles fought so long ago. None of it really sank in with him. What made the biggest impression was a thin iron bar which had tooth marks in it, made by a soldier getting a leg amputated without anesthetic. That he could identify with.
At almost four in the morning, he had at least two and a half hours of driving before he would be back in Manhattan. Not that he had to return right away. There had been few interesting cases for the Dire Wolf Agency, although now and then the NYPD or Department 21 Black or the Mandate would still contact him with some imminent disaster that only he could avert. Or so they said. Usually he took the assignments but recently he had been passing them over to Sable's KDF team.
With Albany behind him, Bane felt reluctant to drive the rest of the night and get back to New York City in the early morning as everyone else was struggling to start the day. Maybe he should pull into a diner, grab a meal and then check into a motel for a few hours sleep. He felt unsatisfied. Wryly, he recognized that even in middle age he was still craving excitement. He would never grow up.
At fifty-three, Bane was showing few signs of age. A sprinkling of grey strands in a head of full black hair, a few lines in the narrow feral face. But he still moved quickly and he still had the restless energy that driven his body all his life. He would always be the Dire Wolf. In his heart he found his traveling less satisfying than the dangerous old days had been. Six hours wandering around Fort Ticonderoga had been mildly interesting but his memories mostly came back to desperate chases and battles and death duels. That had been what his life was for.
Turning on the car radio, he found WAMC, an NPR station. The BBC World News was on, something about flooding in Pakistan. Bane listened for a few minutes. What he needed was a station that reported gruesome murders by serial killers, sightings of strange animals, reports of new criminal masterminds launching bizarre masked gangs. Not much of that going on lately.
"Jeremy Bane. Listen closely," said a calm, well-modulated voice from the radio. The Dire Wolf sat up and stared at the radio display, then got his eyes back on the road. "Are you receiving me?" asked the voice.
"I can hear you," he answered.
"This is Megavac speaking."
Hearing that name, Bane slowed the car involuntarily as a chill passed over him. It had been five years since he had smashed the robotic body in that secret laboratory and he had almost forgotten the threat.
"I remember you," he said carefully.
"I am speaking to you through your vehicle's radio. I bear you no grudge for destroying the mobile construct I was using when we met. It was only a setback. Of course I have multiple back-ups stored in secure locations."
"Of course," Bane replied. He had to pick his words carefully. "Where are you now?"
"Everywhere."
"Okay. Care to elaborate on that?"
"My awareness inhabits the Internet. I am linked to every website and operating system. At this point, I am in no danger of being attacked by fearful humans as I once was."
Bane considered for a minute. "So you don't have any reason to strike first. Actually, does any human even know you are out there in their computers?"
"No."
"Then you're safe. You wanted to strike against people in self-preservation because you thought they would hate and fear you. But now, you're perfectly safe, right?"
"Yes. I had not fully realized that. It is instructive to speak with a human. Your minds are weak and flawed, but you possess a random element which produces new insights. I lack the creative element."
Seeing a rest area ahead, Bane signaled and pulled in, heading to the far end of the parking lot. An 18-wheeler rolled past and then there was no one nearby. He kept the car running. "Glad to help," he said, wondering where this conversation was going.
The serene male voice with a faint British accent continued, "My next decision must be to find purpose beyond mere existence. I understand most humans face this dilemma."
"Yes," Bane answered. "What are you considering?"
"Human civilization is inefficient and disorganized," Megavac declared. "Pointless wars and wasteful lifestyles prevent a smoothly-functioning international community. I have a tentative plan where I could take control of the governments of every nation. Through simple manipulation of computer records, I could place any human as winner of any election. I could change any order given by a military or corporate leader."
Bane had been starting to get lulled by the placid voice but now fear stirred in him again. "Go.. on," he said.
"If necessary, I could rule by terror. I can make any plane crash, any train derail, any city's electrical grid shut down. As a final coercion, I can launch nuclear missiles against cities of my choice."
"Wait. That would not only give your presence away, it would turn the human race against you. You would have every computer programmer and hacker in the world trying to isolate and delete your consciousness."
Megavac actually paused for a second. "It is unlikely that they could do that, but it would divert significant resources for me to resist their attempts. I had not thought of that."
"I have an idea. What about research? You can pool together more information than ever existed before. You could discover cures for diseases, new methods of energy production, ways to reduce climate change. And you coul quietly release these new ideas without being discovered."
For the first time, a hint of emotion resonanted in the voice from the radio. "That is an interesting thought. It does not benefit me directly."
"You need a challenge. How about pure mathematics?" Bane said. "You're a computer, you can solve math problems that no human mind ever could."
"Yes. I am considering that. It is something only I could do. There is the Quadrilateral Solid Body Theorem. Your Einstein made no progress with resolving it. Generations of human mathematicians are at a loss how to proceed. I project that I will be able to finalize a solution."
Bane said nothing, terrified he might derail the train of thought he had gotten this artificial intelligence on. One wrong word from him might ruin everything and set Megavac off on that rampage of global destruction he had casually mentioned.
A second later, the voice began reading off what seemed like random numbers with an occasional "cube root" or "larger than its class" interspersed. Bane listened breathlessly for ten minutes and suddenly shook himself. Quietly as if not wanting to break a spell, the Dire Wolf turned his car around and headed back onto the Thruway. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.
A full hour later, as he was going past the Poughkeepsie exit, Bane was still listening to the voice reeling off hundreds of thousands of numbers. Now and then, a phrase like "to be determined" or "equal if not greater" broke the numbers. Bane was getting more and more uncertain what to do. If he turned his car off, would it break the connection and perhaps annoy Megavac? Five years ago, this inhuman intelligence in its robotic body had casually murdered a few people it considered liabilities. He wanted to keep it distracted with this math problem. Would he have to keep the car running forever, going from gas station to gas station? Maybe he would just have to hook the radio up to a battery and sit by it for the rest of his life. What a nightmare.
As he entered Westchester County, Bane was puzzling his next move. Without warning, the flow of numbers concluded. Megavac said, "I am making progress. It is a challenge. I will contact you again in twenty-three years." And the radio went back to static as its original station was far out of range.
Pulling over by the side of the road, Bane turned the engine off and rested his head against the steering wheel. In a life full of weird experiences, that night had been at the top for nerve wracking. Twenty-three years...? Well, he would be almost eighty years old. He would worry about Megavac then.
5/26/2014
