Artificial Intelligence

Artificial Intelligence ::Chapter 2::

[Sorry, sorry. This story needs a lot of thought and it took me a while to arrange them in an order that sorta-kinda-maybe makes sense ;p]

Chapter 2

John Lau was the head of his organisations; the Big Dog. With his thinning silver hair and deep set flat brown eyes, he was old enough to be anyone’s grandfather.  Truth was, he was one, to four boys, but he hadn’t called when they were born. His son didn’t even know that he was still alive. Your father... his plane crashed on his way to Buenos Ares in the mountains. We’re afraid... he didn’t make it out alive; no one did.

There had been no objections.

Today, in his black pinstripe Armani suit, crisp white shirt and striped blue tie, John Lau stood facing the window into the mountains. All around them, they were surrounded by a winter wonderland – snow covered every possible inch of the facility, clear blue skies, and the occasional view of a hawk sailing through the skies. Perfection.

John Lau held his hands behind his back, his eyebrows creased. Reaching out his left hand, he rubbed his freshly shaven cheek, deep in thought. This was the first time they had tried anything like this before, and if it failed... well that wasn’t an option, really. The stakes were much, much too high. It didn’t matter than a few odd people would end up in possible coma, or that billions of dollars worth of investment would be wasted. What really worried John was that the world – as they knew it – would cease to exist. And their version of the world, although frightfully different to the average persons, would still affect the 6.9 billion people walking on planet earth. Considering that they would be blown up to more pieces than Avogadro’s number times infinity, that is.

“Sir, shall we initiate Stage A?” Liam Hayer asked, watching his boss from over his computer screen. With his left hand on mouse, all he had to do was click, and Operation Intercept would officially be a go.

John Lau turned to face his colleague, looking him square in the eyes before answering.

*

Mark Twain. A legend in the office, not only because of his name. Haha, funny, he always told them when they reminded him that his name was the same as the author of Tom Sawyer. Twain was in fact a legend since he was the first person to use an I-tor, and to come back, unscathed. The world of dreams was unforgiving when it came to letting the person out. Minute, accurate sound waves were required, with attention to detail at the utmost importance.

With his cigarette in hand, he walked briskly through the fire exit and into the harsh, unforgiving world of the Nevada Desert, closing the door behind him. The nuclear test site was not more than fifty miles away, but the effects could even be seen from here. There was no growing vegetation for miles, just an endless stream of sand that travelled as far as the horizon at night. This place was even dead at night, for Mark had yet to see a snake or two slithering its way through the harsh terrain during one of his many exercises.

Being in Mark’s position, the phrase “keeping fit” was more or less the understatement of the year. Not only did Mark have to run five miles each morning around the facility, he also had various routines and courses to complete... but not only that. Due to the nature of his work, he also had to keep his mind extremely active. Playing Nintendo for an hour each day didn’t cut it; Mark was required to complete mathematical equations, conduct research in psychology and the world of dreams, as well as learning the mechanics to the I-tors. Everything always came back to the I-tors, the technological breakthrough of the century, as many world leaders had said. Critics had not yet gotten the chance to ponder over its delicacy, as it was yet to be shown to the rest of the world. As far as the majority of the world’s population was concerned, thoughts and dreams were still private. Secrets could only be revealed through the mouth of the owner. As if.

Mark reflected back on his day’s progress. It was what he often did, coming out to watch the sunset, the colours exploding in the sky overhead; gazing at the contrast of the sand with the shades of purple and red and orange that could be seen streaking the sky.

This morning, 5am, Mark had received the files for his latest mission. A trip to the I-tor, it seemed was required for this one. A group was heading out to A.C., the dream of the ‘mad’ scientists coming true. Of course Mark called them mad – who in their right minds would call them sane? Wasn’t planet earth enough for them? Who gave them the right to start screwing over other worlds as well?

As passionate as Mark’s thoughts on the subject were, he did not dare voice them out loud. And it was only times like these when he was out on his own would he even dare to think of these things. Inside, there was no telling who could be honing in with their machines, even more advanced than the I-tors. Of course they wouldn’t tell him about them unless it was for the sake of a mission. Everything was always on a need-to-know basis only. But of course Mark would have his own ways around that system. They weren’t the only ones with secrets.

After enjoying a deep smoke, he crushed what was left of cigarette with his crafty fingers and proceeded to throw the remains out in the distance. Any other person could not have known where it landed, being so dark already. The sun tended to set quickly around these parts you see. But Mark had been given something to aid his with his night-vision. The accuracy of his sight also allowed him to pinpoint the exact position of the cigarette butt – along with his advanced brain power. Obviously.

Taking one last look at the barren landscape, Mark Twain opened the exit door, and walked back inside, knowing that once again, his mind was no longer safe from being intercepted. 

____

©Munni101