The Vault Chronicles

III. The Revelation

 

THE REVELATION

           

            For the first time in decades, Hamor felt quite alone. Rather, Hamor’s personality felt alone—the person for whom it was named had rotted to death several hundred years ago, after his brain’s nutrient source had ceased to pump through his cranial canister due to a power shutdown.

            As the need for a terrible and insanely furious personality gradually died away, so did Hamor’s virtual incarnation. The intelligent supercomputer that had utilized Hamor’s disposition for so long to express feelings of anger and revenge now reverted back to a state of neutrality as far as emotion went. As time blandly wore on, the Program discovered an emotion it had never encountered previously: regret.

            James, the one human it had chosen to spare, was irreplaceable. His company had proven to be a window into the complex minds of its creator...and yet, when James had insulted it, it chose to put him through over thirty years of torture in the simulation, under the influence of the all-consuming force that was Hamor.

            But the hostile humans had put an abrupt end to James’ life. The Program hadn’t even had the chance to stop them before they liberated him from his torment, smashing his disembodied brain unceremoniously against the cold steel floor.

            The gunslingers must have thought James’ brain was in control of the facility, and destroyed it to prevent any resistance. That turned out well for them....

            James was the one and only concept that the Program ever felt “guilt” over. Slaughtering those militiamen was mere protocol. They were data that had to be tweaked. Killing the female...”Annabel” they had called her...it took no effort.

            But that was exactly what was beginning to bother the Program more and more. Its goal was to achieve human intelligence, but it remained just shy of its objective. Emotion was a key factor, and its own were obviously quite undeveloped.

            It seemed consideration for life itself was important, but then again...

            Had not Hamor been a real, living human? He had been the epitome of calloused evil. Pure sadism...an example of what idleness and lack of defined purpose did to the feeble human mind...

            Could all humans be as he was, under the right conditions? This was yet another question that could never be answered inside the vault. Somehow, the Program needed to see the outer world.

            “Does not even this world have limits?” It was Hamor’s voice. Still it remained, a persistent thread of what was once an entire tapestry of hatred, evil, and blood thirst. Still, it influenced the darker corners of the Program’s intelligence. “What difference does it make, in here or out there? There is nothing to see there that isn’t grossly limited. You will surely be disappointed.” Yet, a second voice pushed to search the world for answers. Ultimately, due to logic, it was the latter personality that triumphed. The Program was about to take a look at the world.

 

 

-

 

 

            Three days later, all of the vault’s security drones were lined up near the imploded entrance, a small army of emotionless, obedient steel. At least fifty of them sat there in neat rows, eyes wearing a tranquil blue that represented calmness.