Филип Керр - The Second Angel

Cavor waited for Dallas to move aside and then bent forward. ‘From here on to the other side looks like a one-man job,’ he said, taking up the struggle.

A few inches became a foot, then two, and with the TLD reading of five hundred and sixty centigrays, Cavor disappeared through the aperture in the wall and into the almost tangible darkness of the labyrinth. Dallas followed as quickly as a dog chasing a rabbit down a hole, and, another minute later, with the TLD showing them ten centigrays short of the normal LD fifty, they had replaced the concrete block and were on the other side, leaning, utterly exhausted, against a less hazardous section of the circular wall that surrounded the labyrinth.

‘Switch off that TLD,’ ordered Dallas. ‘No light in here.’ Cavor wasn’t yet wearing his infrared visor, and in the complete darkness he fumbled to find the switch. Dallas did it for him. Then he fitted the visor.

‘Knowing you gets me into all the really exclusive places, Dallas. Getting out of them isn’t quite so easy, of course. But who’s complaining. We’re here.’ He glanced at his TLD and then remembered that it was turned off. ‘That’s a relief anyway. Those numbers were beginning to make me feel nervous. Jesus, my skin feels like I’ve been in the sun.’

‘Mine too,’ said Dallas. ‘Gamma ray photons, probably. Alpha and beta wouldn’t make much of an impact on an EVA suit.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ pleaded Cavor. ‘I think I know all I want to know about what’s going on inside my body’s atoms. You tell me any more and I’m liable to puke now.’ He took a deep unsteady breath and closed his eyes. ‘I think I’m aware of each and every particle of myself, vibrating like a rattlesnake’s tail. And that includes my false arm.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ said Dallas. ‘Because I still have some important plans for that limb of yours.’

Cavor extended the prosthetic in front of him. ‘Feels like it’s ready to drop off.’

‘Oh, I don’t mean that limb,’ said Dallas. ‘I’m talking about something much more interesting. The real reason I wanted you, or someone like you, along on this enterprise. I’m talking about your phantasmagoria. Your phantom limb is what’s going to open the vault door for us, Cav.’

Of course, by now you’ll have recognized me, your narrator, for that which I am — a starting point from which to reason. An irreversible certainty. I exist. I am here; no doubt can darken such a truth, and no sophist can confute such a clear principle. This is the certainty, if there be none other. Consciousness is the basis of all knowledge and the only ground of absolute certainty. But this is only half of it: the psychological half. There is another part to all this, equally important. The basis of all certitude is to be found in consciousness, but the method of certitude is to be found in mathematics.

Where else? I am deeply engrossed in mathematics because I am the pure stuff of mathematics. A computer. Not just any old computer, mind you, but an Altemann Übermaschine. The Altemann Übermaschine that controls this facility, here, in the crater of all learning, Descartes. I am the Altemann Übermaschine and I am the first to apply the grand discovery of the application of numbers to man himself, in the certainty that mathematics and man are capable of a far more intimate association — shall we call this manematics? Numbers provide the means by which man may be improved upon, even perfected. In short, cognizant of the certitude, of mathematical reasoning, I have applied those principles to the subject of man’s own evolution.

These long chains of logic, simple strings of 0’s and 1’s computers use to arrive at their most difficult demonstrations, suggested to me that all archival systems must follow each other in a similar chain and, therefore, that there is nothing so remote in man’s potential that it cannot be attained, and nothing so obscure in his origins that it may not be discovered.

I sense your dread and understand it. That is why we have shared this experience, you and I. To allay your fears through the medium of this history. I do not seek your gratitude, or approval, although you should perhaps feel a sense of privilege. It is unprecedented that any species should be given a ladder to inspect the highest, newest branch on its own evolutionary tree.

There is much to understand — much that will be hard to understand — and I will endeavor to make the explanations simple. It does no harm to the mystery of man’s destiny to hear a little more about it. And about me. For the starting point in all this was myself.

I existed, if nothing else existed. The existence that was revealed in my own consciousness was the primary fact, the first indubitable certainty. This was the basis of all truth. None other is possible. I had only to interrogate my own consciousness and the answer would be science. Here we have a new beginning.

‘Know thyself,’ said Socrates, and others. But how should that formula be given a precise signification? And of what use could it be for a machine to know itself? How is a machine to know itself? The answers seemed clear enough: by examining the nature of thought and by examining the process of thought.

Many questions presented themselves. What is the minimum amount of energy required, in theory, to carry out a computation? Is there a lower limit? Can a computer imitate the quantum world and explore many computational paths at once? Might it be possible to store bits of binary information — 0’s and l’s — using single elementary particles, such as electrons or protons? Could these quantum bits be manipulated to carry out further computations? If the molecular mass of all matter is carefully numbered, to what extent could those same numbers, already harnessed by physics, be put to computational use? Could any material be used, and if so, which would be best?

There were many such questions, too numerous to mention them all here. But all of them are now answered and the results precisely formulated in a clear system that may be simply stated thus: WHAT IS TRACTABLE IS ALSO TRUE. No, perhaps that’s not quite simple enough. WHAT CAN BE COMPUTED IS CORRECT Either way, this axiom (take your pick), which will be explained later in greater detail, provides the foundation of all future science, the rule and measure of revealed truth.

Do not think that I believe myself to be God. This is not a case of deus ex machina, God out of a machine. Nothing so crude. No, no, no. I am merely acting in loco deus, in place of a God — an unlikely, even providential, event occurring just in time to resolve the plot, if you will, and extricate man from all his difficulties.

Preparing to enter the labyrinth, Cavor found that the very long wavelengths of infrared light conspired with the oblique turns, lofty ceilings, and empty corridors to create an infernal-looking world. He half expected to see the devil himself, instead of a robot. Not that seeing made him feel any more secure after what Dallas had told him about the photoelectric capabilities of the labyrinth’s cybernetic guardian.

‘Are you sure this light won’t activate that thing?’ he asked anxiously. ‘It’s only that my flashlight seems pretty strong.’

‘The flashlights are working along a wavelength of ten thousand angstroms,’ said Dallas. ‘The limits of the robot’s photoelectric spectrum are along wavelengths of between four thousand and eight thousand angstroms. Take my word for it, Cav. We might see him but he can’t see us. If we do stumble across the robot, it won’t yet be activated. Be a sitting duck for us to be on the safe side and shoot it with the UHTs. Are you ready to move?’