Bab 306: Faro Roach (Horizon Zero Dawn SI) by roachbeef
A interesting Horizon Zero Dawn One-Shot wish it continued but ohh well you can't have everything
Words: 8.6k+
Link: -https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/faro-roach-horizon-zero-dawn-si.875751/
https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/faro-roach-horizon-zero-dawn-si.12767/
( Some dude becomes Theodor "Ted" Faro in 2047. There is no possible way anyone could do a worse job, right? Not sponsored by or affiliated with confectionery company that shall be left unnamed. No conflicts of interest to declare at this time. )
Chapter 1
Chapter is under a rewrite. I'll move the old chapter to a new post and put the new chapter in here once everything's fixed.
"So … it's a game where some of you are ordinary people and some of you are mafia, and you can kill—"
"Riley, I'm sorry, but I need to stop you right there. We know that you're graduating, but we still have a few years here."
My cheeks flushed red as my lab group laughed at our boss's joke.
"Sorry, Emma, I hope nobody's recording this call," I said, belatedly realizing how the game might not seem university-friendly. Partly because I knew the higher-ups were meeting this month to discuss her promotion to Associate Professor. I only knew that because I got an email telling me that my dumb-ass self had uploaded the form they sent me instead of the actual recommendation letter. That was quite the eventful Saturday.
"Don't worry, Riley, nobody's recording the call. At least, I hope nobody is!" Emma made a show of a stern look, something that we would not normally see.
After a few more hours of games and chatting, the party was finally over. It was weird getting nice messages from undergrads who had never even met me face-to-face, our only interaction having been via video conferencing. Guess Kojima was onto something after all.
The party was the first time I had drunk alcohol in maybe four years, and I decided to go out on a light walk to clear my head. The cancellation of another job offer was giving me more reason to start drinking irresponsibly. It was scorching hot in my city, although at least the sun was still up at 7 PM. The streets were empty as I jogged along the roads of my middle-sized college town, listening to a podcast via my wireless earphones. I probably should have tried out the new bone conducting ones, though, because I neither saw nor heard the car turning around the corner from behind.
When I came to, it was to a splitting pain in my head. There was a bright light penetrating my eyelids, but I did not feel like opening my eyes just yet. What had the guest neurosurgeon said about prioritizing functionality during surgery? Muscular function, first. I gingerly wiggled my toes and fingers, confirming that they were, in fact, functional. There was definitely a soft fabric covering my toes, so that meant my somatosensory system was not entirely fucked up. That was when I noticed that I was not alone. I could definitely hear some medical equipment running in the background.
As far as my limited testing could tell, my body did not seem to indicate I had become a quadriplegic. Well, if I was being sent to the emergency room three times in as many months, then it was only fair that I got off lightly this time.
I cracked open my eyes. This was definitely not the hospital I went to before. Maybe a different branch? I looked around to find out where I was supposed to be. At my side was a pretty decent-looking computer, logged out of the system. I squinted. FMC Salt Lake City. Press Ctrl+Alt+Delete to login.
That was weird. I definitely didn't feel like I got hurt enough to warrant flying halfway across the United States to get treated. Of course, that was when I noticed the clipboard placed on a shelf. I made out the patient name. Theodor Faro—ugh, they even mixed up patients? It was my fault for expecting anything from our healthcare system. If they didn't even look at my insurance card and tried to overcharge me for the second time in two months, I would probably blow a fuse.
The door opened as I was thinking about whether or not Aetna would consider a hospital in Utah to be in their network. A kind-looking lady in green scrubs came in, followed by a behemoth of a man dressed in similar attire. Both were wearing wireless earphones on their right ears—was this some new fad on the Internet I had missed, like that Dakota Coffee or whatever?
"Hi, I'm Dr. Anne Li, and this is Gary, a medical servitor. How are you feeling?"
What? Servitor?
"Well, as good as it gets, thank you." I sat up in the hospital bed. "How are you?"
"I'm doing great, thanks. Are you feeling any pain at the moment?"
"Well, I feel a bit sore in the side of the head, but otherwise I think I'm functional. Much better than usual, actually. Did you guys give me something?"
"No, sir, we did not. But I'm glad to hear that. Now, you seem to be making a good recovery, but we would like to do a few simple tests, j to verify some information and make sure that everything's okay."
"That's fine. Shoot."
"Can you tell me your name and date of birth?"
"Uh, Riley Sanderson, date of birth is December 13th, 1993. I noticed that you had the wrong name put in the clipboard, by the way," I added in a slightly teasing tone.
The doctor did not flinch at my accusation. "Sir, could you repeat that information?"
"Riley Sanderson, born 13th of December, 1993."
That was when I noticed a logo on Gary's name tag. A chevron on top of a diamond. I read his name tag again. Gary, Faro Automated Solutions Medical Servitor, Model M38 Mk II.
Wait. I recognize that name.
Just as that thought passed my mind, an overwhelming flurry of images and sounds started flowing into my head. Unable to withstand them, my head fell back into the pillow.
"Are you sure you're alright, Mr. Faro?"
"Yes, I'm fine." No, I'm not. Help me. Somebody. Please.
" Now, the surgery has been quite successful. The sort of sudden memory loss when you first woke up was not something we usually see, and we haven't been able to determine the cause."
"Don't tell that to my insurance company," I joked. It was funny because I owned it.
"I'm glad your sense of humor is intact, Mr. Faro," Dr. Li laughed. "Now, we understand that you might feel a little confused and disoriented, but we do not believe that the damage will be permanent."
Mostly because I had had more than thirty years' worth of memories dumped into my head. Is my family still in Minnesota? Do they even exist in this universe?
"We'll keep monitoring you for the rest of the week, but you'll be cleared by next Thursday—that's the 7th of February."
"Thank you, Doctor. Could I get my stuff back?"
"Of course, sir. Your personal effects are in the cabinet next to you. Gary will stay with you and help you with anything that you need."
"Thanks again, Doctor."
Once Dr. Li left, I asked Gary to bring over my Focus.
"Thanks, Gary."
"You are very welcome, Mr. Faro." He sounded a lot like Baymax, although his angular features did not lend itself as well to cuddling.
The FAS Focus was a pretty neat piece of work. When I pressed a button, a transparent hook popped out with a satisfying click. The hook seemed to mold itself to the contours of my ear as I clipped it on. Even had I not been given that crazy narcissist's memories, the user interface would likely have been a breeze to navigate through. As much as I would have liked to kill him, he at least had a good taste in UI designers.
"Gary, could I have some privacy for a few minutes? I just need to take care of few things."
"Of course, Mr. Faro. You can call me back in via your Focus," came the almost-natural voice of the servitor.
I brought up a satellite map, zooming into the neighborhood where I grew up. And when I zoomed onto the street address of my family home, I found … nothing. Just an empty parking lot. A murmured inquiry to the Focus confirmed that there had been no residence at that location for fifty years.
My heart started racing as I looked up for any Sandersons or Lees that lived in that area. They had given all of their data over to FIN, the FAS sister company that was this universe's equivalent of Google. A quick search by birth year and first names narrowed the search down until I was able to skim through the selection. No relatives that I could recognize on either side of my family.
I started crying. Not in sorrow that I was alone in this universe, but in relief that my family would live on happy, peaceful lives—once they got over the grief of losing a child, a sibling. They could live out their natural lives in my original world. They would never have to face the existential dread of a rogue robotic swarm devouring the Earth's biomass until it became a lifeless husk.
This would be a new life. I was sent here with a purpose, and there could only be one. By whatever means, I would postpone the apocalypse. Humanity's cradle was never meant to be its coffin. I would forge the foundations of a spacefaring human civilization, giving the middle finger to fate and freeing us from the vagaries of the universe as we colonized planet after planet. And GAIA help whoever—or whatever—tried to stop me.
It was time to start playing the role I had been given. I noticed that there were over forty-seven calls I had missed, so I sent a message to my head secretary—an Indian guy named Aswin—to handle all the well-wishes and requests for rescheduling. An almost instantaneous reply came back, stating that he had already taken care of everything until I would be discharged. Just before another message came, stating he was waiting outside.
"Ted, it's Aswin. Can I come in?" I could hear a muffled voice from the outside.
"Sure thing, Aswin."
He came in and closed the door behind him. "You're behaving a bit differently than usual. Should we be worried?"
"Hold that thought. Define 'different.'"
"Ted, we've been told you might be confused at first. That you initially had trouble recalling who you were. The doctor refused to give me any information, and I need to quell any further rumors before the stock market opens tomorrow. A bunch of brokers are already betting that you have been incapacitated … or killed." He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbing at the perspiration that had formed despite the artificial coolness in the room. "I've had calls from a lot of the board members. The media got a ton of pictures, and the pictures are all that the Internet is talking about right now. If we could send out a statement—"
"I'm mostly fine, Aswin. I'll just record a video and send it out."
"Good call. It'll let us take the initiative."
"While you have Maja draft a script, I need something taken care of."
"Name it."
"The gruel they have here just isn't cutting it for me. Not quite in the mood for salmon."
Aswin's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, Ted. Salmon is one of your favorite foods, so I thought it would be a good idea to drop a hint to hospital staff …"
Well, I absolutely abhor seafood. Hate the taste, hate the smell, and above all, I hate the look. Those lifeless eyes staring back at me, accusing me of not becoming a vegan like my ex. Well, I never ate seafood unless it was takoyaki. One of the many ways in which my old habits achieved the outright victor over those of my new body.
"We're good. I just need, like … four club sandwiches. Cut in quarters."
"I'll have someone run over to Pam's. They're most famous for their brunch menu, but their club sandwiches are nothing to laugh at."
"How much do they cost, anyways?"
"Looks like 120 dollars per sandwich. That's if you just want water, of course."
Holy fuck, the inflation is crazy here. Or is that expensive?
"Well, Ted, it's even accounting for inflation, it's pretty expensive for the average Joe. A gourmet place, you know? Though, since when have you cared about price? "
I realized too late that I had been thinking aloud. "Well, not that it matters. Just curious. Anyways, grab something for yourself and the team, while you're at it. Use the company expense accounts."
"Thanks, Ted. I'll step outside to make the call."
As I munched through the bite-sized sandwiches, I skimmed through reports and proposals from across Faro Automated Systems. Theodor's memories indicated that there were active military projects for exoskeletons, servitors, and combat drones, but they all had limited autonomy. No swarms of killer robots just yet, but I had to nip this in the bud. Especially Project Atlas. I never understood why the exoskeletons did not have a user override for when the exoskeletons decided that the users were injured. It was like they were trying to get rampaging exoskeletons that trapped their skeletal users. Who did they think they were, Big MT?
"Give me any projects related to military applications of swarm robotics at Faro Automated Solutions, please," I asked the Focus.
"There are 198 documents and 267,231 files in two top-level project repositories, total file size: 4.20 petabytes. Would you like to include subprojects in the search?"
"No, thank you. List the projects in, please."
"Project names are: Project Legion and Project Terra."
"Send the latest report from each project to my Focus."
Hoping that my employees weren't practicing any subterfuge against FAS, I opted to skim through the summaries instead of reading the reports in their entirety.
Legion was what jump-started the environmental restoration project, which was called Terra. It cooperated with a great number of projects that dealt with the implementation of different functions like self-replication, networking, power, and security. Of note were Project Sterculius and Project Aegis, which dealt with emergency biofuel powering and quantum-computing-resistant encryption. Already, most of the building blocks for the Faro Plague were mostly in place, individually spread across the globe as FAS sold its products. All that was needed was somebody stupid—or malicious—enough to combine them together.
There could be no way that a robot apocalypse would come to be under my watch. At the very least, Faro hadn't started to build military swarm robots just yet.
That was when it hit me. There was a malicious being somewhere out there in space. The very same beings that had awoken Hades. How the fuck had I forgotten that? More importantly, how the hell can you defend humanity against a malicious entity, presumably from outer space, which had to have had technological supremacy? Or were the Internet theories true, and it was actually manmade robots—the rogue AI Vast Silver, or perhaps the swarm itself? My mind was swimming with possibilities.
"Aswin, I need a drink. Yes, it's a good idea. Pina colada. I don't care if they're closed, find someone to make one. Thanks."
I sighed. There were years of AI legislation and history to catch up with.
On the bright side, Dr. Elisabet Sobeck was still on the payroll, working from Papa New Guinea and Australia with an international coalition to rebuild the underwater biospheres in the Coral Sea. I was under no illusions about my ability to grasp the intricacies of AI design and quantum-based decryption in the short time that I would have left until, presumably, some malicious entity found a way to start a different version of the Faro Plague.
Besides, while all of this research was supposed to be work, it was surprisingly entertaining. As an engineer, the technology that was being developed in this universe was simply amazing—so fast that it had to be a parallel universe. This was also confirmed by the fact that my family did not exist here. It was sobering a bit at first, but that meant that they would carry on and live out their lives in my original universe.
The responsibility weighed heavily on me, the fact that I knew that someone or something out there was trying to wipe out humanity, and that I had little way of proving it. The only thing that consoled me was that no matter how many times I failed, there was no possible way I could fuck up as badly as Theodor-fucking-Faro.
A voice call shook me from my musings. I would have ignored it and bitched about well-wishers to Aswin, but the caller ID intrigued me. Finally, a familiar face in this fucking franchise.
"Ted, Aswin said you're up!" a voice yelled through the connection. "How are you?! I wanted to visit as soon as I could, but the damn cyclone has grounded all the air transport!"
"No need to yell, Lis! Faro signal processing can handle a bit of wind!" I yelled back.
"Very funny, Ted! Besides, I'm yelling so I can hear myself talking! Aren't you in a hospital, anyways? You should keep your voice down!"
"Yes, but they gave me a private room in the Faro Building. You should try enjoying life more, you know? And stay inside the shelter!"
"We are inside! Okay, I'm standing in the entrance, but the cyclone knocked out the relay antennas when it passed by!"
"You couldn't wait for the storm to pass?"
"Some of the robots were starting to stack the reefs too high! Wildlife were getting trapped in places, so I'm sending out a hotfix to modify their behavior!"
"Good call, but could you please just leave your transmitter outside and get back in the shelter?" And where is your sense of self-preservation? I wish she could have at least tried to get to some other bunker after sealing off Gaia Prime instead of deciding to throw in the towel and unintentionally leaving everyone at the mercy of Ted-fucking-Faro.
"Since when did you become a fucking worrywart, Ted? Cyclones are getting a lot smaller! Not even a hundred knots! Besides, you're the one who said to finish by March! "
I sputtered. Of course, Ted Faro was the guy who took on every risk since he dropped out of college. For all of her self-sacrifice, Dr. Sobeck took calculated risks. Not the monumentally moronic mindlessness of Faro. That reminded me, though.
"Lis, once you get back to Utah, I would like to talk to you. In person."
"Uh, sure?! When are you getting discharged?!"
"Think they said the 7th, but I'm pretty much good to go right now. Just a precaution, they said. Anyways, just call Aswin. I'm sending a message to him to clear anything on my schedule for you … right now, actually."
"Hold on, cyclone must've passed us! I got to let everyone know."
I waited for a few minutes as, presumably, whoever was in the shelter got out.
"Alright. I should be around on the weekend. Should be back on the 8th, so Saturday before 4PM MST should work for me."
"What, no private life? I don't want to take away—"
"You know I don't really have one. It's fine." Her voice was pretty short.
"Well then, let's make it a brunch thing, on me. Just looked up this diner place called Pam's, their brunch menus are supposedly pretty good. Crepes, omelets, hash, you name it. Don't try their burgers, though."
"Bit pedestrian for you, isn't it? No caviar or black truffles?"
"Well, if you insist, I can bring some over to the restaurant, I guess. Mix in with the hash, and everything should be the same once you down it, right?"
Dr. Sobeck made a gagging noise.
"Hey, Lis … look, get some sleep, okay? You've been pushing yourself so hard lately. Actually, I'm going to give you the next couple of weeks off."
"And who's going to lead the research division, huh?"
"If you're a good leader, you should be able to delegate responsibilities."
"You mean leech off on other people's work." I think it was supposed to be a joke, but her voice was a little on edge and bitter. Was it the first cracks in their relationship, or was it just fatigue?
"Hey, unlike me, you've actually already pulled more than your fair share."
"Sorry, I wasn't—"
"Don't say that. I mean, you know your stuff when you intervene. I micromanaged a lot about shit I didn't know about."
"You're oddly self-reflective today, you know that?"
"Near-death experiences do that to you, I'm afraid. I've also found religion, seen visions of the future—all that jazz. "
Dr. Sobeck snorted. "Glad to see your ego's unbruised. Fine. I'll take the week off unless something comes up that needs my attention."
"Take care down there, alright? See you Saturday."
"Yeah, I'll see you around. And get well, I guess."
"Thanks. Stay safe."
Ending the call, I returned to the reports. In my head, I was already starting to formulate a new direction for Faro. 2047 was still young, after all.
"Bit of a fancy place you picked here. It's all rich people and their families." Dr. Sobeck peered inside the restaurant. around Pam's. "You'd think that the name would be for a family-run diner."
"Oh yeah, it was. But one of the sons decided he need more money for his drug addiction, and some CEO of a holding company liked the food but didn't want to be seen with the wrong sort. So the restaurant was bought, and fewer people started to come by."
"And they jacked up the prices."
"Tale as old as time." I shrugged as the walk light turned on. "Would you like me to buy it? De-gentrify the place, as it were."
She snorted. "You just see a niche in the market, I expect. You always had a nose for profit."
Well, to be fair, that was what the Theodor side of my brain was telling me. Dr. Sobeck's dislike of Faro might have started out small, but there were tiny hints from the very beginning.
"Well, I'm not saying that I don't, but who says that the two are mutually exclusive?"
"If only that were true …" She sighed.
"I think we're attracting a crowd, actually. Come on, I'm starving."
Dr. Sobecklooked around at the onlookers.
"Can't find a moment of quiet. This is why I always order takeout."
"And miss the wonderful atmosphere?" I whispered. Looking at the greeter, I said, "We're here for a Mr. Faro and Ms. Sobeck."
"Of course, sir. Please follow me."
Even after we were seated, Dr. Sobeck glanced back at the crowd that had gathered outside. "God, I hope they don't think this isn't a date."
"Wait, it isn't?" I joked.
She glared at me. "Must you be like this, Ted?"
"Come on, Lis, just a joke. Come on, we can talk shop later."
"So what's supposed to be good here, anyways?"
"Well, their Trash Hash is pretty highly praised. Never tried that, though."
"Sir, madam, welcome to Pam's Diner. My name is Sophia, and I'll be your waiter for this lovely afternoon. Would you like anything to drink while you decide?"
The waiter had been there the whole time, watching us like some creepy vampire.
"Lis, don't know about you, but I think I'm going to get a mojito."
"It's eleven thirty-five in the morning, for goodness' sake!"
"I would argue that there's much cause for celebration! I got out of my cell, you got out of your storm cell—"
"Oh, Ted … wordplay used to be your strong suit. I'll have the same, please."
"Of course, ma'am. I'll be back with your drinks shortly."
She turned back to me. "Even my old man had better standards."
"You wound me, Lis."
I stared at the tablecloth, thinking of how I could bring Dr. Sobeck into my conspiracy.
"So, how's the jet lag?"
"Considering I had an abnormal sleeping schedule when I was in Brisbane, I'm actually sleeping normally for once."
I laughed. "I think your definition of 'normal' is quite a bit different from mine. How many hours of sleep did you get, Lis? You look like a zombie."
"I dunno … three hours? No, four," she added hastily.
"You know, a professor of mine said something about sleeping for longer than you work, or something like that."
"I've heard that spiel as well. Didn't you drop out after …" She scrunched her eyebrows together.
"Seven weeks," I answered for her. "Just between you and me, Lis, I didn't drop out because I had a great idea for a company. That came after. I just panicked after I bombed an exam."
"You? I thought you'd be able to BS your way through something as simple as an exam. Or cheat, maybe."
"Oh, ye of little faith. But seriously, Lis, you need to wind down. The company is going to go in new directions, and there's a lot of things I need to confide in you after the board meeting."
Her green eyes turned to meet mine, almost as if she was trying to read my mind. "That's … intriguing. You've become very mellow since the accident. What's on your mind?"
"I can't tell you now, but I promise I'll tell you when we're somewhere more secure. You've trusted me thus far, haven't you? I promise that I'll tell you everything after the board meeting," I lied. "Can we just be two friends enjoying a Saturday brunch, just for a couple of hours?"
The waiter had ruined my intro spiel, so I didn't have a satisfactory way of easing her into the idea of humanity's imminent destruction just yet. We remained silent until the waiter brought our drinks.
"So, what will we drink to?" I broke the silence first.
"You tell me, you're the boss."
"We're here as friends, Lis. Besides, I take employee input very seriously, Dr. Sobeck."
She scoffed. "I never heard you call me that unless you were being flippant."
"It's not because I don't respect you, Lis. You're the smartest person I have ever met." One of the few things I said that had no deception at all. "You have the ego to match, at least," I jabbed.
"In that, at least, I think I met my match." She raised her glass. "Here's to our swollen egos."
"Cheers." The minty freshness put paid to the remainder of the outside heat. "So … you decided on what to eat?"
"Uh …" Dr. Sobeck flipped through the menu. "What are you getting?"
"Might try out their Tex-Mex Omelet. Had pretty rave reviews."
"I'll try out your previous suggestion, then."
The waiter materialized out of thin air. "Great choice, ma'am. Sir, what sort of bread would you like with your omelet?"
"Uh…"
I could have sworn that the waitress crinkled her nose in disgust, but she was back to her cloyingly sweet persona before I could decide.
"We've got banana bread, black bread, beer bread, bread rolls, breadsticks, brown bread, cornbread, flatbread—"
"He'll take the first one, whatever that was," Elisabet interjected. "Won't you, Ted?" she added, stepping on my foot. "And I'll have brown bread."
"Of course, ma'am. We can have your eggs hard boiled, soft boiled, hard scrambled, soft scrambled—"
"Sunny side up. Thanks." She smiled menacingly at the waitress, who beat a hasty retreat. "I'm beginning to see the benefits of your offer to buy this shithole, if only to cut down the bread selection. Who has banana bread with an omelet?"
"Me, apparently, because you ordered for me." I grinned. "Don't apologize, because I have quite the sweet tooth."
"Wasn't going to," she replied flippantly.
"Ha!" I laughed, a bit too loudly. Some of the patrons turned around to glare at us, but quite a few recognized us and went back to their meals. Ah, the bright side of being a multibillionaire. I lowered my voice. "Still, knew my powers of persuasion would help you see the light."
"I'd say that you stumbled into success through the sheer power of BS, as usual. Don't get too cocky," she retorted, although there was a hint of a smile.
"I wouldn't dare." I smiled back.
We were silent for a while, enjoying the sunlight and our mojitos.
Elisabet was the one to break the silence. "So … I don't want to imply anything when I say this, but … your head still okay?"
"Yes, ma'am." I laughed. "My mother screwed it on tight."
"No voices telling you to purge the unclean?"
"Well, that's how Project Terra started. Wait." I understood that reference. "Are you into Warhammer?"
"Used to be. I could never afford the figures, so I had to build them myself. I even got a functional miniature Warlord-class Titan, even though it just shuffles around instead of stomping."
"That's pretty neat! Makes sense you're into giant robots."
She sipped her mojito. "Yeah. Suppose you're also a 40K fan? Always had a bunch of figurines whenever you gave office tours."
"Oh, I'm a video game plebeian. By the time I could afford the figure sets, I didn't have the time to sit down and play a game with someone. I do have a collection, though." One thing I did not have in my previous life. "Helps with the street cred, if people think I'm a nerd."
Elisabet quirked her left eyebrow. "You can't fool me, Ted. I know that, deep down, you're the nerdiest of us all."
I raised my hands up in mock surrender. "You got me, detective. I should probably figure out if they released any new games, actually."
She covered her mouth in mock horror. "Oh, honey, the IP got split among five different companies after GW went bust. That's why the figures can cost as much as a car."
That was some apocalyptic news for me. "I never noticed that."
"Well, you're one of the richest men in the world. Figures." She scowled, although there wasn't a lot of bite to it.
"No, not like that. I'm absent minded with a lot of things, Lis. If—"
"Thank you for your patience. The Tex-Mex omelet for the gentleman, and the Trash Hash for the lady." The waitress set the plates down. "Would you be needing anything else?" she asked, ignoring Lis."
I decided to remain silent. "No, thank you, that'll be all," Elisabet said from behind her.
The waitress left again, leaving us to enjoy our meals in peace. Thankfully, she did not come back to ask if our meal was going well when we were trying to eat.
"This place is pretty good, actually. You've a nose for these things."
"Aswin recommended it, actually."
"What, he plans your dates for you?" I could see her getting flustered as she realized the implication. "Not that this is one, mind you."
"Nah. Sorry, that was worded badly. I ordered takeout a lot when I was locked in the hospital, and I got sudden cravings for club sandwiches on my first day."
"Don't you get, like … five nurses and a doctor on call to pamper you? I'd imagine the hospital food basically worthy of a five-star hotel."
"Yeah, but Aswin arranged for salmon sandwiches—"
"You eat that every. Single. Day."
"—Well, wasn't feeling it. But I didn't want to make the staff think it was shit, so I had Aswin pack it up." And share it with the other secretaries. "I just thought I'd sample the local cuisine, so that's how we ended up here."
"Huh. Not because you're trying to butter me up for whatever harebrained scheme you're about to start?" Elisabet joked.
"Well, I also wanted an excuse to have brunch with this beautiful, brilliant young woman—"
Dr. Sobeck actually laughed this time, covering her face as she started coughing. "Good one, Ted, but please get to the point."
"You wound me, Lis. I did mean all of them. Look … our shareholders are going to be voting on the new board members in June. And I think it might be a good idea if the current board plans for it ahead of time."
"Why, though?"
"Because of Emily's latest report."
"What?"
"I sent you a copy over my Focus. Hold on." I resent the message.
"Well, this isn't something you can read in a few minutes."
"The gist of it is that our growth is projected to slow down. We've pretty much cornered the market in terms of environmental restoration, and there's little room to expand there. Governments hate spending more money on it than necessary, and the public has the memory of a goldfish on morphine. The market is going to stabilize once we start seeing progress, then shrink."
"How does Emily come into this?" Elisabet said, skimming through the document. "Oh. Oh no. This is bullshit."
"She's just doing her job. I want you to understand the morals of a board member in a publicly traded company. Look, Lis, Project Terra has given us a lot of goodwill and investors. But the degree to which it can grow our company in the future is limited."
"Ted, I don't like where this is going … "
"Me neither, Lis." I sighed. "But our investors always want more. And they gave us money so we could grow and give them a return on their investment. Which means we need to keep growing—the more, the better."
"Why are you telling me this now? Right before a board meeting?"
"I just skimmed through it because it was boring finance stuff I leave to Emily. But I was looking into the military application of swarm robotics—"
"You know how I feel about this, Ted." There was a slight edge to her voice.
I met her gaze. "Would it surprise you if I told you that I feel the same way?"
Her eyes widened. "Actually … yes. But … I never thought that you would … You never had a problem with selling arms before."
I shook my head. "Just because I felt it was necessary for the company's survival doesn't mean that I liked it all. But the military wasn't going anywhere soon, and with a war every other month, it was too tempting."
"What changed your mind?"
"That's the catch, though. Not something I want to bring up here." I didn't look her in the eyes. Instead, I was staring back at the gathering onlookers, some of whom waved at me.
"What are you looking at, anyways?" She turned around. "Fuck's sake."
"Shame that the Foci has a lip-reading app."
Dr. Sobeck gave up on her staring contest. "You'd think that they would have better things to do."
"It was my bad. I should have brought us inside sooner, but talking with you makes time fly so quickly."
"Huh, thanks for the compliment, I guess?"
"Besides, you're pretty much an idol in their eyes. It's pretty understandable that you're building up a fan club."
"I'm pretty sure that most of the women there are your fangirls. Why are you still single, anyways?"
"I could ask you the same question, Lis. If you actually spent time outside of work, you'd be surprised at the number of guys who would ask you out."
"Don't think most guys would mesh well with me, you know? There's no way I won't be spending most of my time at work."
"Go to HR and fill out the paperwork. There's gotta be some guy in Faro you can snatch up."
"Great. More paperwork, exactly what I need in my romantic life. And you?"
"Eh, Camila would hand me my ass if I started dating without permission. All the extra work from the new HR policies are driving her up the wall."
"That's what thirty-something years in contract law does to you, I guess."
"Total workaholic. But she did tell me that if I wanted to start a family, I had better start looking. Don't want to be a bachelor at fifty-something."
"You're only thirty-three!" Elisabet laughed.
"Hey, being your age felt like only months ago. All those years will fly straight past you if you're not careful."
"Thanks for the advice, old man."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm only thirty-three, I'll have you know!"
Even though we laughed and joked for the next hour, both of us were still on edge—Dr. Sobeck, because I was withholding something from her. Me, because I wanted to figure out how to tell her.
"… So, in conclusion, I think this is where the long-term future of our company lies. Emily, I know the accounting division has been projecting growth that is under expectations. Our R&D budget here won't pay off for a few years, but with the predicted increase of power consumption over the next decade, I'm sure it'll take in the long run."
"Ted, I'm not as concerned about the budget as I am about the optics," Bill, the head of public relations, replied. "People still have a 1950s understanding of nuclear power. Nuclear power plants can't be economically viable if public opinion causes them to shut down after fifteen years when they can last fifty years or longer. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not to mention the DEMO bombing."
I nodded. "Completely agree on your assessment. But if we try to meet the demand via solar and wind alone, we'll have a third Lithium War. This is the last thing we need, especially if we're going through with our stance against military robotics. We need to change public opinion, not try to skirt around it."
The chief financial officer added her thoughts. "Maybe we can pitch Project Sterculius. With your hydroponics initiative—"
"Biofuel is not an option when we've barely started to counteract the ecological damage over the past two-and-a-half centuries, Emily. And they need energy to produce in the first place, not to mention the investment we need into desalination and water treatment plants." Dr. Sobeck shook her head.
Bill sighed. "Shame. I suppose the Agri Wars are too recent."
"So, we're in agreement about Phase 1?" The people around the conference room nodded. "Good news. If we can get the divisions to form a task force on a feasibility study before the board meeting on March 4th, I think we have a good shot at getting this through. Let's start a game plan, people."
After another hour of going through some specifics, people started to file out of the conference room.
"Lis, could you spare a few minutes? It's about that thing we discussed."
"I almost forgot." Dr. Sobeck circled around to the other side of the conference room, not taking a seat. Instead, she leaned forward on the conference table.
I took out a bottle of sherry and a couple of glasses. "You might want to sit down with a drink, Lis. This might take a while."
She frowned. "Alright, then."
I poured our drinks, heading to a few seats away from her.
"What's got your panties in a twist, all of a sudden?"
"I've been thinking …"
She hmphed. "Sorry. Don't know why I did that."
"I think, Lis, in the process of trying to save the planet, we've opened Pandora's box. Created all the pieces of Exodia."
"I don't know what you're referencing."
"Old collectible card game. And yes, I have cards. Never mind. To put it plainly, we have unintentionally created all of the ingredients necessary for a robotic Armageddon."
Dr. Sobeck frowned. "And what are those?"
"Well, in Project Legion, we perfected the whole swarm robotics idea. With Project Aegis, it is virtually unhackable. In Project Vulcan, we figured out how to make self-sufficient mobile manufacturing units that could recycle, repair, and construct robots out in the field. Even self-replication. The Ptah and Geb lines have proved this. And in Project Sterculius, which we've already so proudly demonstrated two months ago, we've given them a power source. Nature itself."
"A power source that's limited—oh, fuck." That was quick.
"Exactly. If they were to go rogue, they would be like a tumor cell spreading blood vessels everywhere, sucking the planet dry. It would be a question of extinction, not survival."
"Wait," she said, putting down her sherry. "You said you weren't going to sell this technology to the military." The accusation was left unsaid.
"I wasn't lying, Lis. I made a promise. I'm going to do what I can to make sure Faro doesn't sell this sort of tech. But I'm not a majority shareholder of the company, and a lot of the technology has either been licensed out or copied. Not as good as ours, but it's a matter of time before they all spread. And even if, by some miracle, nobody uses this for killer robots, there's a third issue."
I stopped to take a gulp from my glass. Frowning, Dr. Sobeck leaned over to refill my glass. "What's the third issue?"
"I've had a team look into the frequency and location of the glitches occurring with the Ptah and Geb lines."
"Go on."
"Analysis is still ongoing, but there is no regularity to the timing or location of the malfunctions."
"That's to be expected."
I nodded. "You saw the so-called glitches in the code. What did you notice?"
"If it was hacking, it was definitely not conducted in the MO of your average hacker."
"At the very least, it's not something your average lone wolf could do, is it?" I added.
"No."
"Yet all of the big players have no motive. And it would either need one large supercomputer, or …"
She nodded thoughtfully. "Billions of less powerful but more vulnerable devices. Coordinating them would itself require a lot of computational power, but it would be near impossible to locate the source. And this would rule out anything but the most powerful supercomputers, or perhaps … You're not thinking it's a rogue AI, are you?"
"Pretty much. We've looked at the bandwidth usage across about twenty thousand samples. On average, the increase is within the margin of error—could be resending packets due to faulty connection, could be anything. But if you look past the averages, you can see that there are devices that experience sudden increase in power and bandwidth use."
Dr. Sobeck sighed. "So there's definitely something fishy going on. One of the big actors is trying to attack Faro."
"We can't tell if it's a rogue AI just yet, but we can't discount it just yet."
"And you need my help. I'll get a team set up. But this doesn't solve the fundamental issue."
"If you're talking about a robotic apocalypse, I fear it's inevitable unless we turn into Luddites."
"That's bullshit!" Dr. Sobeck leapt out of her chair. She swept her glass off the table, the crystal shattering into a thousand tiny fragments. "You're Ted Fucking Faro! The man who gave hope to a whole generation that we could fix the Earth! The visionary that helmed the Claw-Back!" She stalked over to my seat, towering over me. "You're giving up now? Because of a threat that might not even be real?"
I flinched at her accusations. "All I'm saying, Lis, is that we need to be realistic. If this is a real threat, then I don't see a way to unfuck ourselves. And that's why I'm saying that we should have a Plan B. Just in case we need to buy time. Just in case …" I gulped. "Just in case we fail." How the fuck could you beat a rogue AI? Or what if it wasn't even manmade? Some alien race whose technology would be completely outside our understanding?
"Such as?"
"Remember Project Firebreak?"
"Yes. I've talked with Anita before."
I nodded. "The lead programmer. I've been thinking … the geothermal power from a volcano could powerful a city for a pretty long time. On a geological scale, even. If we're building a facility near Yellowstone, there's no reason we can't hook up the power to an underground shelter."
"Couldn't you just stick a few fission reactors?"
"As one of the power options, sure, but we need reliability for centuries."
"So the Earth can fix itself?"
"So we—if we're dead, maybe some machines we left behind—can fix and repopulate the Earth, once an apocalypse has consumed all of the biomass. Or maybe it takes over some nukes—doesn't even have to be enough to destroy the world, just enough to make the big nuclear countries think they're being attacked and trigger MAD. You've seen the movies, played the games."
"Building even one shelter would cost … billions."
"About fifty, if we place it right. And I have ten times that in personal assets alone, and that's just including the assets with liquidity. Besides, I'm going to try to have Faro—the company—fund it."
She sighed. "I know you're good at selling things, Ted. It's one of the things I admire about you." But how the hell are you going to justify that?"
"Part of our space exploration project." I stood up, heading back to the cabinet where the glasses were. "When we start terraforming Mars, the on-site workers will have to live somewhere safe until the atmosphere can get thick enough. It won't even be a lie—I'm fully planning on getting to outer space as soon as possible." I set down another glass.
Dr. Sobeck sat back down, this time next to me. "I'm not sure if the aneurysm completely changed you, or if this is another of your crazy ideas that you've been waiting to spring upon an unsuspecting world."
"Why not both?"
She sighed. "I had always hoped that the Ted from before would employ the sort of thoughtfulness in heading the world's third-largest corporation that you are right now. I don't know enough to tell if you're right or wrong, but … I was a little wrong about you." She lowered her eyes.
"Oh? How so?"
"You know, when I first joined Faro, all I saw was this brilliant visionary, someone who could make people believe they could do anything. Then I joined the board of directors, and I began to think everything was just a façade for Faro's bottom line. Now …"
"Lis, I'm not going to pretend that I haven't been an asshole to you, sometimes. Ignoring your advice. Always chasing after profit. But I was also once a kid, just like you." Another grad student, someone who wanted to help people. Someone who didn't care about money, as long as he could get by. "A kid with dreams about the future, a dream about changing the world. And I've been losing that kid, little by little. I never realized that until recently. And while I was sitting in that hospital bed, recovering from my aneurysm, I realized that little kid wouldn't be able to recognize the man he had become. Would hate him, in fact."
If Dr. Sobeckfelt anything from the confession, her face was too inscrutable for me to tell. Seconds passed as she looked down at the table, lost in thought. I couldn't stand the tension anymore.
"Do you hate me, Lis?"
"No!" She looked up. "Ted, I know we've had our disagreements, but I could never hate you."
I chuckled at the irony. At how hopeful this young Dr. Sobeck was for the future. At how Theodor Faro had doomed the human race—not once, but twice.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and Dr. Sobeck was standing there awkwardly, patting my shoulder. "Ted … Fuck, I'm bad at this," she muttered under her breath. "I'm sorry if I made you thought we weren't friends. That I have don't have faith in your abilities. But we are, and I still do. Always have. Now stop with the puppy face," she added lightly.
I noticed something wet on my shoulder, but it wasn't my tears.
"Lis, you're bleeding!" I said, noticing the inch-long cut on her palm.
"Huh. Guess I am."
"Hold on." I ran to the wall, my Focus leading me to a first aid kit.
"You should see a doctor. There could be fragments. Or an infection. Or a clot," I said once I ran back, wrapping the gauze around her hand.
"I'm fine," she argued, even as she was wincing.
"You're not. Come on, let's head down to the infirmary." I dragged her to the elevator, ignoring her complaints.
Both the doctor and Elisabet had to reassure me multiple times before I agreed that she could leave the on-site medical facility. In my defense, we would have been fucked if one of mankind's greatest minds had been killed due to a simple cut.
"I changed my mind, Ted. You worry way too much to be the same person from before the aneurysm," Elisabet said as the doctor left.
I laughed. "Well, you should apologize for making me worry that much."
"Well, I'm sorry I ruined your 500-dollar glass," she replied flippantly.
"It was 6000 dollars, and was an Edwardian era antique, you know?"
"My heart bleeds for you," she retorted, theatrically placing her bandaged hand on her chest.
"Good idea, keep the wound elevated." I reached out a hand, middle finger straining against my thumb to flick at the bandage, but she backpedaled faster than the humanities major at the interschool happy hour did as I was explaining my field.
"Sorry. I had no idea what I was thinking there."
She shook her head. "And you were showing so much promise."
"I mean, I technically didn't buy you dinner, but brunch on a weekend is just as good, no?" Fuck, was that joke creepy? "That was a joke. Please don't report me."
Elisabet snorted. "Well, I blame you for this cut. But before you ask me out for dinner, you're coming with me to Yellowstone. There's something I need to show you."
Oh, I think I figured out why Dr. Sandoval was called to Zero Dawn. Time for some payback. "Firebreak?"
Elisabet nodded.
"You and Anita haven't been developing an AI behind my back, have you?" I said, my grin wide enough to border on pain.
Elisabet panicked, looking around for cameras.
"There are no cameras in this room, Lis. You should know enough about HIPAA to realize that."
"Right."
"That an answer to my previous question?"
"Uhm … yes?"
"So, you've been developing an artificial intelligence?"
"Yes. We call her CYAN."
I made my best Marshal Zhukov impression. "I'm going to have to report this conversation." Elisabet backed up against the wall, her freckled face whitening. "Conspiring to violate, or aid or abet the violation of the Turing Act is a crime under USC Title 69—"you should see your fucking face!"
Elisabet marched back up to me and slapped my arm. "Ted"—she slapped me again as I recoiled—"Faro, you total"—she slapped me again, as I rubbed my shoulder—"ass!"
"Damn, Lis, you got the biggest balls this side of the Atlantic!" I said, slapping her shoulder before pulling her right to my side.
Aforementioned lady huffed and broke out of my one-armed embrace, making a show of turning away.
"Whoa, personal space, I understand, man."
She crossed her arms and started tapping her foot—my queue to get to the point.
"Sure. Let's get to the helipad," I said, sending a message to Aswin.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone