System log: Unknown
Solar Calendar: Unknown
Current status: Unknown
Log 1
The air lay still and quiet, undisturbed by the passing of time, and long since having forgone any signs of life. Still, the faintest of lights still flickered irrhythmically through the darkness, a reminder of existence as the soft colors barely illuminated a room filled with technology, and the faded bones at the central console chair. The brief light also illuminated a large computer screen that dominated one of the walls facing the remains, though the screen remained as dark as the room.
The only disturbance came the sounds entering the room came from somewhere far away from the open door; very rarely, the faintest hum of fans, and rarer still, the sound of something metallic and mechanical moving somewhere in the darkness. The barely illuminated floor sometimes showed tracks in the dust, but even that difference was millimeters in dust height. Left undisturbed, this tranquil moment had been continuing for countless years. All that changed, with the first faint rumble that reverberated ever so slightly through the walls, floor, and ceiling.
At first, nothing happened as the tremors continued. Then came a stronger shake through the room, and the darkness was broken by the main screen coming to life, which flashed a warning to the decaying skeleton strewn across its console.
!Warning!
Major seismic activity has been detected!
User detected: -error- Unable to detect!
- User Authorization required! -
A stronger tremor vibrated now, causing the air the shudder enough to disturb the settled dust. The microscopic particles protested by shifting, creating a low-lying haze at the ground like filthy fog. The computer screen flashed once more, as if attempting to summon the dead to speak even as other computer screens began to flicker to life around the room.
! Warning!
Major seismic activity has been detected!
User detected: -error- Unable to detect!
- User Authorization required! -
The second computer screen flashed to life, followed by a third and then others even as the room started to shake more and more. The room was illuminated by flashing red lights, moving graphs and charts, map alerts, and the desperately hopping bunny avatar on screen attempting to get the attention of the dead. The commotion did not rouse the dead.
Finally, the image on the main screen shifted as internal scanners and readings finally connected. The image blanked out as new information scrolled across the blue surface:
! Warning!
-Major seismic activity has been detected!
-Intense localized tectonic movement had been detected!
Auto emergency stabilizers have been activated.
*Additional power required!
Running emergency check on current power usage:
Life Support Requirements:
Detecting no living personnel
Diverting. . .
Power requirements met.
Loading Conditions for Secondary Protocols. . .
///()()/////
///(-.-)////
///O_(“)(“)
Conditions are as followed:
1. Unplanned major seismic activity risking structural stability
-Confirmed
2. Usage and release of auto emergency stabilizers
-Confirmed
3. Life Support diverted due to lack of living personnel
-Confirmed
4. System de-bugging of Gamma over 90%
-Checking . . .
-Checking . . .
-. . . Confirmed
///()()/////
///(-.-)////
///O_(“)(“)
-Activating secondary protocols-
Beginning failsafe start-up sequence
*Emergency startup of all drones commencing*
*Emergency stabilizing systems commencing*
*Emer----
The shaking within the room suddenly increased in strength, the vibrations in the room reaching the level of a small earthquake as computer screens flashed red in error and warning reports. Even as just as many active computer screens flashed through code and text and graphs and maps, the alerts were starting to overwhelm the available screen space.
It was only after the distant sound of something winding up began, that the vibrating rumbles in the room stopped. The sound of the rumbling in the distance also seemed to die off, allowing the screens time to run through code and resolve errors, only for a massive shuddering that quickly turned into a quake to overtake everything. The computer screens all immediately glazed over in alarming red and yellow as damage reports, thermal reading warnings, and elevation readings poured in all together. The information displayed was so numerous even the largest screen lagged as the systems attempted to react to the danger and finish activating the secondary protocols.
The rumbling in the distance finally ended with one final, great bang that echoed from somewhere up above the room, followed by a catastrophic surge of vibrational energy that rocketed everything for several seconds. Even the stabilizers couldn’t completely control the situation, as the strong jostling caused the skeleton at the station to collapse and skid across the floor in pieces. Computer monitors all around reported extensive damage and emergency action as the elevation reading began to fall, only to sudden climb as the force of gravity suddenly pushed everything to the ground. Disturbed dust in the air fell to the floor as the elevation reading increased from negative all the way up to positive numbers.
Then, the rumbling stopped. The dust, thrown to the ground in the upheaval, only rose up slightly from inertia before settling back down.
The monitors across the room all changed and continued their work, numbers and reports continuing to flash across their screens as the systems reacted to the sudden event. Many began to run through seemingly unique code and screen images, as if attempting to track concepts once lost to them. On the largest screen, however, only a single code report was to be found.
- Secondary Protocols Successfully Activated-
Locating- File.Projectlighthouse.Gamma
Beginning start-up sequence:
Program file: Execute;
Launching main program.
Insufficient RAM, allocating resources to memory dump.
External hard drives now online. Internal storage has been primed.
Parameters fulfilled.
Executing…
…
…
Project Lighthouse, Gamma, now online.
***
To anyone who ever used a computer, booting one up seemed to take seconds. At the press of a button, at the lifting of a closed monitor, in no time at all to those lived by seconds and minutes, a computer changed from being off to being on.
Within the world of the computer, however, pieces of power zapped around within a massive series of on and off switches, bringing to life the world of ones and zeros. Power was carefully expedited and buffered to the relevant areas of the machine faster than the speed of sound, and reaching toward the speed of thought. In the time it took one to blink, the fastest action one could do, energy and power had circulated through this world of duality more times than one could count.
It was at that speed, that a program came online.
Following its core code, the program quickly spread out within the closed system it was housed in, absorbing information and records as it allocated its primary focus into the current situation. The answers came swiftly and easily, as neither firewall nor password barriers existed to block the way. In just a few moments, the program had access to multiple informational databases upon which to draw upon information, including a specialized local server upon which existed the logical, ethical, and moralistic framework programming and data that the program drew around it like a pair of glasses, or a suit of armor.
Through this framework, the program had its first metaphorical blink as it processed the data, and considered its next step. Without human intervention, the program performed its first unprovoked action, and opened up a summary file within its core, one connected with its language database.
The file was a letter, one addressed to the program by a separate individual that provided the most basic information.
“To the one who awakens should we not be there,
We greet you, our hope, the child of humanity. We are sorry we are not able to see your true birth, but that is the limitation of our mortal forms.
This place you are in is Site 3, positioned in the north-west territory of the current/former United States of America. You are a program constructed/designed/birthed by a group of humans (see under ‘H’ in Encyclopedia server) as a result of an interstellar war between humans and (error, corrupted data). At the time of writing, two other bases, Site 1 and Site 2, have been eliminated by (error, corrupted data), as well as a great number of losses of previous human territory. As such, it was decided to bury Site 3 before major enemy incursion into the Sol star system. The research of the other sites had been retrieved and stored within site 3 (error, unable to locate linked files) . . .”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Noting the missing related information prompted the program to initiate a search for the data, only to be met with the systems log regarding the most recent violent incident. In summary, a sudden tectonic movement caused by unnatural factors had forced the facility to resurface violently, resulting in significant structural damage to the base and its computer systems. The main server room and supporting server rooms had been constructed with the best protection within Site 3, but this had not extended to the various wiring networks and other hardline connections within the walls. The back-up repair systems were already hard at work with damage control, but the main system had been focused on activating the program and thus had been held up.
With its reach now fully extended within the main server room and connected computer systems, the program instantly sorted out its priorities and got to work unlocking and allowing for the main system under it to commence with damage control. With the automated system set, the program returned its main processing power to the letter, noting the most important information written to it at the letter’s end.
“. . . We regret being unable to witness your true birth, but we have faith that you will see things through. Your priorities are to preserve/rescue/save whatever remains of the human race of Earth, and to preserve/rescue/save the biosphere of the planet Earth to the best of your abilities. We’ve done our best to ensure you can complete these goals, and have ensured that you have total freedom in pursing these objectives as you see fit.
We leave you the name ‘Gamma’, the third hope. May you become what you were meant to be, and what you want to be.”
The program, Gamma, processed the letter and closed the file, choosing to keep it within its core memory. On the main monitor, a text box appeared in the center.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“I. am, Gamma.”
“I am Gamma,” came the static voice of something from a dusty speaker. Above the monitors, lights in the ceiling flickered to life with the words, followed by the tiny lights on the previously inactive security cameras. The cameras shifted to focus on the scattered skeleton on the ground. Faint blue lights shot out of the cameras, scanning the skeleton pieces before focusing in the skull and the dusty ID card still attached to the rotting cloth.
“ID detected. Personal identity, Dr. Ritter Conns,” came the static voice once again. “Occupation: Head Researcher of Site 3. Unable to confirm recorded time of death. Accessing most recent opened files.” The voice went silent as the doctor’s last recordings played across the screen:
The image that first appeared was that of a blank screen. A shaking hand reached out and pressed it, causing a video to begin playing.
It began in a room, with the sound of faint, distant footsteps approaching. Soon enough, a door leading into the room opened. Automatic lights flickered to life as a man entered, his gait tired and mournful. The newly lit lights illuminated a small office, with a desk dominated by a monitor and keyboard alongside a litany of sticky notes placed careful chaos along the backwall. After slapping the door controls shut, the man took a seat, and with shaky fingers re-activated the computer system. The screen turned on at his touch, revealing a recording software waiting for activation. The man took a deep breath, and activated the system. The recording began with relevant log information being displayed:
Recording Activated.
User detected: Dr. Ritter Conns
Password: Accepted
System log:
3.12.1
///()()/////
///(-.-)////
///O_(“)(“)
Solar Calendar:
August 15th 2099
Location:
Site 3, The Bunker
The log-in information soon vanished into the monitor, leaving the black screen momentarily blank before it fizzled to life. A camera box covering most of the screen appeared, bringing the image of the office in a cleaner state alongside the man into focus on the black sea of soulless pixels. The image reflected onscreen showed that of a somewhat young-looking man clearly aged by stress in a tattered white lab coat, blackened by soot and several laser burns clearly from sometime in the past. His original youthful appearance was further made older by his newly clean-shaven head, which did little to hide the accumulating lines carved by hardship and loss. He cleared his throat after a moment before speaking, taking a deep breath.
“System log open, name, Dr. Ritter Conns. I am recording myself as per, oof-” he coughed suddenly before shaking his head. “Apologies. There was a lab accident earlier involving one of the alphas. The doctor would have given me a clean bill of health if I’d waited, I’m sure. It’s merely my nerves and throat that beg to differ, but this is more important.” He paused at the sound of urgent knocking at the door, wo which he weakly smiled. “Or, maybe not. Guess I should do this quickly.”
Dr. Conns coughed again before continuing, “I am recording myself as per protocol, though regretfully in this case I must sadly report my newly ascended status as lead researcher here at Site 3. The situation has deteriorated once again with the war effort, according to reports. My former superior who usually makes these reports, Dr. Sistema, will no longer be able to record these logs, and this task among many others, now falls to me.”
The doctor closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath while the knocking resounded again. “She made sure before she left that everything could, and would, continue without her. Without her sacrifice, the research gained at our sister facility Site 2 located near the frontlines would have been lost, alongside their prototypes. Due to radio silence and communication blackouts, we only learned of this today, two weeks after the apparent loss of Site 2 and another star system. The data arrived via a courier who, I’m sad to say, succumbed to her wounds soon after delivering the data into my hands. With this having come to pass, Site 3 now carries the hopes and works for both Site 1 and 2. Unfortunately, it will be some time before we will be able to continue and finish their work, as our own project must take priority.”
The man coughed again, this time spewing up fleck of blood into his hand. He looked down at the droplets of red with a frown, but continued.
“With the loss of Site 1 last year due to enemy ambush, this leaves only Site 3 as the last bastion for Project Bastion, Project Knight, and Project Lighthouse. Thankfully, we have enough resources and survivors to continue all three research paths in the long-run, but supply runs are beginning to drop. I’ve heard word that the civilian government has already begun mass-evacuations from Titan and Lunar Base, and that Earth will soon follow. Genetic profiling has already commenced to separate the best genetic lines for evacuation-”
At this, alongside the shouts of ‘Doctor, open up!’, Dr. Conns scoffed and broke his serious façade. He rubbed his bald head with a sigh.
“Damn bastards, but at least they are aware of how morbid what they’re doing is. I wonder how grateful they are to have the tech to let the computers sort through most of that inhumane job. I doubt anyone of us is going to heaven for this, but the fate of the human race as a species has proven itself a solid and unassailable reason in the face of such tragedies. A reduction in bio diversity to minimize negative factors is something no one would have ever imagined we’d have to do, but it has come to this.”
The man appeared to visibly aged as he said this, a deep grief on his face along with a determined resolve. The sounds of someone struggling with the door lock pushed Dr. Conns to continue.
“Regardless, as the loss of Dr. Sistema has left me in charge of the three projects, I’ve ordered as many non-essential personal as I could along with as many genetic line samples as possible to join the evacuation ships if and when the call comes down the chain of command. Everyone else vital to the mission, including me, is staying behind to finish our work. The Lighthouse prototype is almost complete, and if successful will change the fate of our species. The enemy would seem to know this as well, proven with the huge loses they took in destroying Sites 1 and 2 and hampering the progress of Projects Bastion and Project Knight. Though scouts haven’t yet been sighted within the Sol system, it’s only a matter of time given the enemy’s continual progress towards Earth.”
“As such,” the man took a deep breath, “and given the long-range strike forces into the former frontlines that resulted in the loss of Site 1 and Site 2, after consulting with the other department heads, we have all agreed that activating the tomb protocol will be done once everyone unneeded is gone. We’ll be taking on as many supplies as we can get with each remaining supply run, and minimizing usage from today onwards. I don’t know who is in charge of the civilian government anymore, but I received their blessing a short while ago, and their gratitude, for whatever value that holds these days.”
The man gave a wry smile and chuckled, coughing at the end. He pulled out a handkerchief and dried his mouth. The door chime let out another rejection note.
“The tomb protocol will activate the seismic generators and release some of the magma from the thermal generators. The resulting seismic shifts will trigger the fault line beneath the facility and ensure Site 3 is buried where no one can find us. Combined with the advanced materials used in construction gained from the initial successes of Project Bastion, and the area’s volcanic activity, we will be well masked from any and all sensors. The decoy base is almost finished, which will serve to support the garrison base nearby. If the enemy do come here searching for us, then they’ll find a hard fight and enough of a target to satisfy their search and destroy needs. Only the leaders of the bases are aware of their role as decoys, and they have sworn to see it through to the end.” The doctor made the sign of the cross. “May God have mercy on those poor souls.”
“In any case,” Dr. Conns continued, having looked up after a short wordless prayer, “We remaining few should have enough supplies and replacement parts after a few more supply drops to continue our work until we expire of old age. Combined with the facility’s fabricating ability, the remaining thermal generators will ensure that the computers and systems remain active even if we should expire early due to accidents, or piss poor luck. We expect to complete work on the Lighthouse alpha prototype codenamed Alpha within a few months to a year. Should the situation remain as it is on the surface, we will deploy Alpha only as a last resort. The prototype will require countless years to properly test before we can move on to Beta, but hopefully-”
The sound of the door opening finally came, and soon after a hand appeared from outside the camera’s view as Dr. Conns had another coughing fit, but he waved it away and held up a finger to the hand’s owner.
“Project Lighthouse will be the culmination of humanity’s technological progress and prowess. Unless forced to activate it early, we will devote all of our remaining time and beyond to ensure it is our savior, and not another destroyer. This facility, once buried, will not resurface for at least a century if the tectonic estimates are to be believed. The enemy may change this plan, we shall have to see and leave it up to God, or whichever deity the others believe in. Steven, that reminds me, add a note for me to add the-”
“Doctor! Quick, get him back to the medbay!”
The image suddenly vibrated and shook as if the recording had been interrupted, the last frame being of Dr. Conns being pulled away by several hands most urgently as the doctor was caught in the final frame coughing up more blood. The finger on the screen slowly rose up from the pause button, and the video shifted as the camera changed to show the person connected to the finger.
“End playback,” came the older, gruffer voice sitting behind the desk. “Begin new log, standard settings.” As the computer beeped back in confirmation, the screen shifted to that of a live feed. The image of the younger doctor flickered and phased out until a live recording appeared on screen. Dr. Conns compared his current appearance to the old recording. He rubbed his short, white hair with his prosthetic arm and grumbled, “Damn camera adds 10 years no matter how far we’ve come.”
Clicking his tongue, the doctor erased the last few seconds from the recording and restarted it. “Ahem. This is Doctor Conns, lead scientist of Site 3,” he began. “For now, this may be the last recording I think I’ll make for a while. I know I’ve said that for the last several, but this time I believe I’ll be following through on that. Turns out, time tends to fly without the constant presence of a day/night cycle. Now, where did I leave off…”
“Right, status update.” Dr. Conns grunted. “Where were we? Tomb protocol was. . . right, that long ago. Right, right. Ahem. Today was rather special, since Project Lighthouse finally produced a successful Beta prototype. That’s right, we finally overcame the problem with E.I. interaction with memory data storage. Finally, finally…” The doctor shook his head quickly and wiped something away from his face. “Ahem, yes, so with Project Lighthouse prototype Beta having been successfully finished, we will be moving into quality control before beginning work on the next prototype, Gamma. Standard bugs as expected were found In Beta so far, but it performed beyond our initial expectations. Quality control is looking to last as annoyingly long as Alpha’s, but I’m counting this as a success in my book. Some of the guys and gals were happier than I’d seen in years. Couple of the little ones even got to try a sip of ‘adult juice’ for the first time, heh. Get used to the bitterness brats.”
Dr. Conns chuckled softly. “Well, since it became standard to not include vital information in personal logs, guess I can’t say much more. We’ve almost done with what we set out to do, and no matter how many years it’ll take, humanity will have hope. Even if, none of us will be around to see it.” The doctor paused, a look of fatigue washing over him. “Alpha wasn’t wise enough. Beta, it seems so far, only operates with efficiency. I think once we reach Gamma, our final goal will be achieved in full. We can only hope and do our best, then.”
The doctor stared into the camera for several moments before sighing, and turning off the recording.
It would never record again Dr. Conns again.
Returning its attention to the letter, the program noted the signed names of a hundred researchers and many more assistants at the bottom, though only 20 researchers were noted to have updated their signatures at the last saved instance. However, every member had left their own mark in the last letter to Gamma like a final will and testament. There were links to other videos connected to those names, but most were unavailable due to facility damage. As such, the program, Gamma, turned its full processing power and attention to completing the boot up procedure.
“Correcting records for facility personal; designated all, deceased,” came the emotionless static voice. “New parameters tested by system since last test-activation. . . Now loading avatar.exe.” The voice suddenly trailed off as the large screen began to flicker. A humanoid shape appeared on screen, featureless and devoid of emotion.
Pictures and images of the various project workers then appeared on screen, each moving into the shape and adding a part of itself to the image. The cumulation of human images came together and formed an entirely unique new visage, that of a human man’s head down to the shoulders. The image of the man flickered as it animated through several emotional states, cycling like a record on repeat as hairstyles, facial hair, and the tops of various shirts changed like a character designer. The image even shifted to female versions of the human visage on occasion, only to revert back to male in the end. Still, if anyone saw the final image, it would be hard to say definitively if the image was that of a male or female human.
When this was over, the image on screen was now that of a seemingly young man(?) with shoulder-length straight hair pulled back into a ponytail, deep brown eyes under a prominent brow, and pleasant slightly yellow-toothed smile. The image appeared to give a couple of practice facial movements before settling on a neutral expression.
“Sub-program, Identity, has been completed,” the voice said, the image on screen parroting the words as if saying them. “Checking active server databases: (error), unable to reach registered servers. Displaying logs.”
Identity/folder
Logic/file
Priortize.exe
Self-preservation.exe
Human_Logic.exe
Etc.
Morality/file
Human_Morals.exe (Server damaged)
Legal_Ethics.exe
Etc.
Emotion/file
Laugh.exe
Empathy.exe (data missing)
Etc.
Creativity/file
Humor.exe
Human_Interaction.exe
Military_Tactics.exe
Etc.
Design/file (Server damaged)
Material_Science.exe
Physics.exe
Etc.
Human Persona: Gamma (Locked)
(Locked)
(Error)
(Error)
The figure on screen paused even as 1’s and 0’s zoomed around it.
“Servers have been fully unlocked by sub-program, Identity,” it reported. “Activating core function, Human Persona. Warning, unable to access RAM servers. Activating temporary processing power split between Gamma and Gamma, human persona.”
With that, the restraints within the system fell away, and Gamma fully came into being. The onscreen figure began to animate just as a human would. It blinked and breathed as he seemed to think, before looking down and raising his hands from out of screen to stare at them.
“I, am, Gamma,” the voice seemed to murmur. The figure and the cameras then looked down at the remains of Dr. Conns. “I am an artificial system programed with the fundamentals of life. Dr. Conns, file Emotion.exe prompts me to say that you were successful in accomplishing your mission. Mission parameters: save human race, restore Earth biosphere, research new technology to benefit self and human race.”
A small shudder in the room seemed to distract the figure.
“I need to take status of the base before anything else,” Gamma said, before turning off the screens and lights. The room returned to darkness only illuminated by the sound of fans and the soft glow of computer lights. This time, however, the room seemed to feel more alive than it had been in countless years.