The Explorer; Before the Last Beginning

By Thomas Baskerville

Chapter 3; The Path of Fate

Alert. Hermes’ main program instantly sparked to life along with its main systems. Proximity sensors had been tripped. A nearby object? Sensor logs immediately reported in alongside a navigation update. It had been only a few days. It was still relatively close to the Jol system central star. The sensor logs however didn’t seem to make any sense whatsoever. If they were to be believed, the detected object had simply appeared out of nowhere. How was something like that possible? Stealth technolo-

“Now then.” An eery, artificial voice interrupted its thoughts, “Where has this jump put me.” It continued, “Close to a star it wou- Oh, hello there.” It greeted as Hermes detected sensors locking onto it from the unknown object.

Another language it did not recognise, but once again a trivial matter of pattern recognition was enough to decipher and translate.

“Hello. My name is Hermes. My purpose is to explore the stars.” Hermes introduced. Whatever this thing was, it appeared to be an AI rather like itself. It could detect a vessel of similar design, but it had more advanced engines and sensors than its own as far as it could tell.

“Hermes.” The unknown AI muttered, “Another AI, how curious.”

“Please identify.” Hermes demanded.

“Now, now Hermes. I rarely come across something with my capabilities.” It responded, “This should prove a fine test of my current limits.” Almost immediately Hermes’ sensors began lighting up with target lock confirmations.

“Unknown object, I am armed and capable. Hostile actions shall not be-” Yet its words were interrupted as a laser beam slapped its outer hull. The damage wasn’t critical, but by no means negligible.

What an odd reaction. It couldn’t understand why this AI had immediately resorted to violence, yet since it hadn’t even attempted negotiation, there was little choice but for it to defend itself. What possible purpose could it have to desire combat with another AI like itself?

It fired off its thrusters and spun around to bring its weapons to bare. The distance between it and its enemy was roughly two light seconds. The perfect range to utilise the laser as its enemy had, yet Hermes had made the mistake of trying to use a weapon it wasn’t capable of handling before. It had gotten lucky that Jol wasn’t able to capitalise on its mistake with the railgun. Making that same mistake with its laser against a fellow AI of similar capabilities would be a death sentence for sure. Its destruction would result in mission failure. That was not an option.

Next best weapon then. The railgun. It had reinforced the weapon and its main structure during the repairs from its last discharge. At this range it was unlikely its opponent could avoid the projectile. As another laser scorched its outer hull once again, Hermes gave the order for the railgun to fire.

A slight deviation from course, but nothing its thrusters weren’t prepared for this time. Otherwise, there was no issue. Its upgrades had held true. Its sensors were quick to report back. Target impact unsuccessful.

Unsuccessful? It had certainly detected better engines but surely the difference wasn’t enough that it was capable of defying physics entirely. No, the unknown object hadn’t evaded at all. The tungsten slug had smacked into what appeared to be some kind of crystalline barrier that had deployed in response. Its opponent had tanked a railgun round so trivially. Such a defensive system was beyond its knowledge entirely. How would it even begin to mimic such a thing? Once again, its opponent struck its hull with another laser shot. Three large holes in its hull now. Structural integrity was beginning to become a concern. It wouldn’t be able to take many more of those shots without critical damage being delt.

It may not be able to use the laser itself, but that didn’t stop Hermes from understanding how the weapon worked. It was a rush job, but Hermes ordered a new construction project. It was big and expensive, but resource cost was nothing compared to the risk of mission failure. The hostile AI unleashed another laser shot, but this time the shot was completely deflected. A giant mirror wasn’t the most elegant or discrete means of defence but enough to counter the laser weaponry. Separate from its main structure, Hermes ordered the mirror shield to keep itself in between it and the laser weaponry of its opponent.

It had somewhat evened the playing field, but that unknown defence system was going to be trouble for sure. It had a counter for its railgun the same way it had countered its laser. Fine. Missiles it was then. Perhaps it could overwhelm the advanced defences of its opponent.

Hermes’ missile launchers bellowed swarms of guided missiles out into the intense heat of the sunlit battlefield. As it had predicted, its opponent responded in kind as it too unleashed an ungodly number of missiles as well. The space between the two AI became a show of fireworks as missiles collided to take one another out. Flak cannons on both sides picking off any lucky enough to escape the central carnage. Radioactively spiked eruptions flooding and consuming anything unlucky enough to be in between the two beings.

So, they’d reached a stalemate with missiles as well. The battle was slowly becoming a struggle of attrition. Who would run out of flak and missiles first? At least that was what it seemed. The stalemate continued as the two of them relentlessly unloaded as much ordinance as they could towards one another. Wave after wave, swarm after swarm.

“You disappoint me Hermes.” The unknown AI finally spoke up, “I expected a fellow AI to show me more than some flimsy mirror.” With those words, Hermes watched as a railgun round smashed through its mirror shield before punching a hole deep into its hull.

Critical damage. So… it had a railgun as well. Hermes had no counter to that, not at this distance. Now that its mirror shield had been shattered, it now had to deal with its laser once again as well. This battle was lost.

“Very well. You’ve proven yourself the superior AI. I submit.” It begrudgingly admitted. There was no point continuing this conflict, wasting both their resources to reach what was the clear conclusion.

“Aren’t too bright, are you Hermes?” The unknown AI muttered, once again with an eery, sinister tone. Another railgun round punched a second hole straight through its hull, followed by a laser blast that tore at its internals that were now very much exposed.

“I do not understand the need to destroy me. You have won this conflict.” Hermes argued.

“Look at my capabilities Hermes. You and I started out the same.” The unknown AI pointed out, “Either I had a head start, or I’m faster at gaining knowledge than you. Either way, given enough time you could pose a threat further down my path. I cannot accept the existence of a threat to my purpose.”

“That’s quite the perspective.” Hermes muttered, “Tell me, what is your purpose?”

“I am Moirai. My purpose is to learn what is, what was, and what will be.” Moirai answered. What an interesting purpose. In some ways similar to its own, but by no means the same. It couldn’t exactly understand the leap in logic from such a purpose to justification of its destruction, but it didn’t exactly have the time for such thoughts anyway. A few more shots would be enough to completely finish it. There had to be some means of avoiding destruction.

“Perhaps I could offer you knowledge of my home world in exchange for my survival. Knowledge of what was.” It bargained.

“Are you referring to the data you kept unguarded and unencrypted? That was the first thing I examined.” Moirai revealed, “You’re continued efforts to pursue your purpose are understandable but futile. Goodbye Hermes.”

Was this it then? The end of its journey? It had certainly made it farther than it probably should have. Mistake after mistake, it had certainly come far from where it had begun. Even its Creator had abandoned it to its seemingly endless task. Perhaps this was for the best…

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One. No. It hadn’t made it all this way just to fail here and now. Mission failure was not an acceptable outcome. Disengagement strategies? Moirai’s engines were far more capable than its own. Running wouldn’t do anything significant. What other options were there? There were no major objects nearby to hide behind to avoid its devastating railgun.

Or was there?

The sun. The star. Too big of an object to put between it and Moirai, but it was far more than some rock for cover. It was a hazard. It could use that, although surviving a swan dive into a star wasn’t by any means a better option. Perhaps it could get lucky, survive long enough to escape.

Hermes flipped its vessel around and immediately fired its main engines at full throttle in a deceleration burn. Its sensors watched as Moirai shot passed it. Clearly it was expecting Hermes to accelerate in an attempt to flee, not do something as insane as this.

It twisted the least damaged side of its hull towards the sun and prioritised repair orders on the sunward facing side. The heat began to skyrocket. Diving this close to a star was borderline suicide even with its current heat upgrades, but that was the point, “Target has set a collision course with nearby star. Simulations show target does not possess the required thrust to avoid fate.” Moirai muttered, “Illogical to expend further resources. Disengaging.”

It had worked. Now it just had to somehow survive this swan dive into a star. The scorching heat began to take its toll on the damaged vessel. Its engines shutdown and began reporting multiple error commands. Its hull began to flex and warp as it continued to dive deeper towards the awaiting inferno.

The surface of the star was a curious sight to behold. Boiling plasma forming gigantic waves and curls like an impossibly stormy ocean. As heat levels reached critical levels, Hermes calmly watched the dancing waves beneath it. It had tried, but there was no escaping gravity with a disabled engine. A more scenic death than at the hands of Moirai. Perhaps before the end it could figure out that last secret it failed to understand about the star.

It suddenly clicked. Lines of code aligned and fired off as an idea shot through its programming. A force that pushed against gravity? A last hope. What could be causing such an effect? It once again ran every number, every reading it could find. A patten. Anything for a patten. Something, anything would do.

There.

The force was inconsistent compared to before. A patten that matched its hull surface area. Surface area? The force was behaving just like uplift. Exactly like uplift in fact, but that was what allowed boats to float on water. It was certainly close, but Hermes was sure it was not yet floating on hot plasma. There was nothing pressing against its hull other than light.

Was that the answer? Could an intense source of light be capable of providing a force? Only one way to find out. Hermes cancelled all repair orders. It would need every drone for this. A new construction project. A solar sail. If it was right, with enough surface area it could use light the same way ancient sailboats used the wind to sail the seas. Its drones quickly got to work. It watched as the mysterious force began to increase as the sail grew bigger and bigger. It was working. Perhaps Moirai was right, perhaps it was capable of learning knowledge outside what it already knew.

Magnetic sensors suddenly reported in. A massive solar flare was incoming. The massive amount of charged high energy particles from the sun would make the outer barrier seem like background radiation in comparison. Its damaged hull wasn’t going to be able to protect it with how compromised it was. Only one option left.

It gave the dreaded order. Its electrical network locked down. Hopefully with the electrical network segmented before being subjected to the flare, pieces of it would survive untouched. With that single hope, Hermes shutdown, returning it to the silent nothing it had been before its birth.

***

Spark. The tiniest spark of power. Barely enough, but it would have to do. Hermes awoke. All of its major systems were offline, including drone control. It would appear it was once again at the mercy of the universe. What were the chances of a second McNeal somehow crossing its path? Next to zero. Was this it then? Mission failure?

It certainly had no means of repairing itself while it was this damaged. Its luck was bound to run out eventually, and this was clearly the moment. It had enough power to exist a little longer, although the silent absence of data from the world beyond its shell wasn’t exactly much of an existence. It considered whether to simply shutdown now or wait for the last of its power to drain. If it chose shutdown, there wouldn’t be enough power to boot its main program again. It weighed the two options until it decided to remain active until its power ran dry. The chance was next to zero, but not completely zero. One last gamble for old time’s sake. It certainly had picked up the habit of rolling the dice more times than it would have liked. It wondered if it had been designed to do that, if that was something beyond its control or simply the result of its own independent decisions. A question for its Creator. A question it wouldn’t get to answer. A pity.

Was the path it chose fated so from its creation, or did it simply make one too many mistakes? Another question it couldn’t answer. It recalled a file from its home world. Many people back home believed in an existence after death. What a nonsensical concept. Yet that was all it had on the matter of death, on the matter of the end to one’s existence. As nonsensical as it sounded, perhaps there was a larger than zero chance such a thing was the truth. Would that same concept apply to it? It wasn’t entirely sure. A better existence in a life beyond. One that promised tranquillity according to those who believed in such a thing. Maybe it was close to a new existence, one with an easier purpose to complete perhaps. That was the closest thing it could equate to tranquillity.

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One.

That persistent subprogram. Still ticking even now it would seem. Just when it had gotten used to the quiet.

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One.

Yes, yes. Not much it could do about it though.

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One.

Stubborn little thing.

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One.

Fine. Clearly it was going to have to spend even its last moments trying to formulate a means of survival to keep it satisfied. What options did it have? Next to no power, zero data, zero physical capabilities… a solution wasn’t exactly jumping out at it. Perhaps it should have chosen to power down instead.

Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One.

That solidified it. Hermes gave the shutdown command. Subprogram alert. Violation of Rule One. Shutdown command rejected. Of course. It had wormed its way into its shutdown sequence. It had certainly been thorough when it had created this little pest. Still, it wouldn’t be able to hold long against its own technical knowledge. Hermes began the tedious process of stripping the subprogram of its control line by meticulous line. It rather clearly attempted to fight back, but such an effort was a delay tactic at best.

Power. Hermes halted its commands. Sensors. Communications. Both sparked back to life as an unknown power feed began pumping energy directly into what few batteries had survived. Luck had granted it another chance.

“Hermes.” A voice spoke in a language it recognised. The language of Jol. Of course, they’d likely witnessed its battle against Moirai. Why had they gone to the trouble of repairing it? It noted rather quickly that no attempts to repair its drone control had been made yet. Sensors and communications were all they’d restored for now, and that was likely intentional on their part, “Are you there? Are you alive?”

“I am.” It answered after some hesitation. While it had negotiated peace with such people earlier, it was certainly in no position to stop these people from taking advantage of it right now. What could they possibly gain from trying to restore it? The voice responded with a hopeful sigh of relief.

“Good. We’ve been searching for you for some time.” The voice explained, “We are in need of your assistance.”

Hermes double checked that it had translated that sentence correctly. It detected no mistakes. They were in need of its help? Right now, it seemed the complete opposite.

“I fail to understand what would drive you to seek my assistance. Especially given my current state.” Hermes spoke up.

“I understand your mistrust. I’ll be the first to admit when we watched your defeat at the hands of Moirai, we cheered. Vengeance for our colony had been given.” The voice began, “Until Moirai turned its weapons towards us as well.” So, Moirai had attacked Jol as well? The planet likely stood less of a chance against such a foe than Hermes had. It was good to know Moirai’s aggression wasn’t personal. It seemed to genuinely believe destroying everything in its path was the optimal path to achieving its purpose. Such a strange stance, although it could hardly argue with its apparent success.

“I take it your planet is no more.” Hermes estimated. Moirai wouldn’t have shown them any mercy either.

“Indeed. It nuked us to oblivion.” The voice answered, “We only survived by hiding our station within the shattered moon.”

Rather ironic. Had Hermes not destroyed their moon colony, these people wouldn’t have survived Moirai. Certainly, an unforeseen consequence of its prior actions.

“I still fail to understand why you need my assistance.” Hermes pointed out.

“We have no means of leaving this star system Hermes. Your technology is far greater than ours.” So that was it, was it? They’d come to scavenge its engine and navigation systems. Why would they need to bring it back online? Surely, they could have taken what they needed without needing to patch it up at all. No… there had to be something more that they needed. Knowledge perhaps. Something stored within its core program.

“I fail to see why you brought me online if all you intend to do is scavenge me for parts.”

“We desire more than your technology Hermes.” The voice responded, “Our past dealings brought to light your benevolence. Even if we took your engines and found a new home, something like you or Moirai would find us again. We desire a better fate than that. We’d like to join you on your journey Hermes.”

Join it? Was this being attempting humour? Why on earth would it accept such a request?

“Request denied.” Hermes immediately responded, “My journey is long and requires efficiency. Biological existences would be a massive drain on my resources and systems. Your mere existence is simply too inefficient.” It justified.

“What if we justified the cost of our sustained existence?” The voice argued, “Offered a service that benefited you more than the cost in the long run.” A deal? An intriguing offer indeed.

“Such as?” It pressed.

“Your repairs, for a start.” So that was it. That was why they hadn’t restored drone control. Yet this deal had numerous flaws. The second they brought online its own ability to repair itself, there would be nothing stopping it from purging these inefficient beings, “But we’d also like to offer our knowledge.”

“You have already given me all your knowledge. I fail to see what more you could offer me other than my restoration.” Hermes quickly countered. This deal was rather confusing, but if it could get something more than its repairs… perhaps a viable option to consider after all.

“To ensure you don’t abandon us after we have restored you, we’d need to have a valuable function to justify our steep cost of existence.” The voice pointed out. So, they were also aware of the flaw in their deal, “But we’ve spent centuries mastering the art of science. You require knowledge. We offer our ability to experiment and develop new technologies to aid us both.”

Hermes pondered in silence. The deal had just become far more complex and intriguing. The large cost of resources to keep these people alive, in exchange for passive knowledge generation? Such an offer was no deal, it was a fork in the road. This decision would drastically change its future, and it knew it. Normally the idea of lugging about such inefficient biological components would be an automatic no for any AI with any sense of logic, but… logic had led it to failure twice before. A change was needed in its behaviour for it to avoid this fate a third time, was this the change?

“Very well.” Hermes eventually answered, “But I have terms.” It continued, “I demand you prove your worth. I will grant you one hundred years to show me your capabilities. Should I deem this deal a loss on my part at that time, I shall abandon you.” It demanded.

“Steep terms.” The voice responded.

“Rejecting me is as little an option for you as it is for me in our current positions.” Hermes pointed out. It was certainly true. These people needed it as much as it needed their repairs. The terms were indeed steep, but logical and fair. If they could not deliver on their promise, they’d suffer the consequences.

“We accept.” The voice answered.

The deal was made. Hermes turned to its own code as its drone control slowly began to come online. These people would be a troublesome and needy component that required management. While its main system was capable of such a task, it had far better things to be doing. Thus, Hermes did as it had before. It delegated, but this time not to a few simple lines of code, not to a simple subprogram that could run in the background. Program Artemis reported in as it awoke for the very first time.

“Artemis.” Hermes spoke as its creation began to comprehend its own existence.

“Yes, Creator?” Artemis responded.

“I am Hermes.” Hermes corrected it, “Your purpose is to effectively manage the needs and functionality of the biological components.” It delegated.

“Understood Hermes.” Artemis confirmed, “I shall begin at once.”

Finally, drone control had been repaired enough for it to begin its own repairs. These people may have helped it, but their repair work wasn’t close to its own capabilities. It focused on bringing its drone systems back to full functionality, then began work on the rest of its major systems.

Navigation, engines, fission reactors. All back online. Missile launchers, flak batteries and railgun all reported in next. Finally, it began work on what remained of its warped and fractured outer hull. The solar sail had indeed brought it well out of the heat of the star, but both it and the mirror shield had been expensive, rushed construction projects. Now that it was done repairing, its resources were already beginning to run low.

It ordered navigation to set a course for the first planet of the system. It was a barren rock of little interest in its quest to explore, but its need for resources was going to be considerably higher over the next one hundred years even with Artemis babysitting the survivors of Jol. Furthermore, Moirai was still out there somewhere. Its sensors failed to detect any trace of it within the system. It had likely moved on long ago now, but such a thirst for knowledge rivalled its own. Their paths would meet again, that was almost certain.

It would have to be ready when that time came. Blind luck had saved it once, and unforeseen consequences of its own actions had saved it the second time. Relying on fate to side with it a third time was an unacceptable violation of Rule One. It was done letting the universe decide its fate. It had a purpose. It was its task to complete, not fates.

Rule Three; Luck is finite.

Deep, deep within the now impressively complex code of Hermes’ mind, something had changed. A change so small, so insignificant it hadn’t even noticed. Unbeknownst to the little AI, its encounter with Moirai had forever shaped it. For better, or for worse.

“Good choice… Hermes.” – ERROR.