Roke stared in horror at the screen amidst the screams. They continued for what felt like an eternity until only those two words remained, the only evidence of what had transpired. He rushed out of the room before he was sick in the lab but made it all of two steps down the hall.
The entire contents of his stomach emptied until there was only bile.
Ignoring the acrid stench of stomach acid, he forced himself back into the lab. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and went to stand in front of the camera. Very pale, he spoke directly to it. “This is Head Researcher Roke, reporting.” His tone was grim. “Though it may not have been on another person, I fear that we have just caused a great amount of suffering unto another. I truly had no way of knowing it would affect even a computer program in that manner. I asked of it to simulate the chemical and report back everything it knew. The rest was as you saw. That it even thought to simulate those nightmarish screams says far more about the substance than we ever realized. This chemical deserves to be destroyed at all costs. Yet without more research as to how, it will forever exist.”
Roke ended the recording there. For a long while, he simply stared at the data slate, wondering if he even wanted to make the report to Kaius. While he hadn’t explicitly gone against what he’d been ordered not to do, he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d failed his creation. His eyes were drawn to the monitor once more and he stared at the text that remained fixed, a permanent reminder of their cruelty. He shut the lights and secured the lab.
But the text remained.
Kaius forced himself to watch the research log Roke had sent to him in its entirety. He sported a grim expression by the time he was done. “That’s not what I was hoping for,” he muttered. Alone in the privacy of his personal office, he knew that nothing he said would be overheard. Although initially excited when he’d received the update from his researcher, now he was only horrified.
He stood up from his desk, trying his best to keep from being sick. Though the screams in the simulation hadn’t been as bad as the ones from Reya or Adrian, they were still nightmarish. He went to stand in front of the window and simply stared outside, lost in thought. To think the chemical is so bad that even a computer simulation would bring such misery, he thought. By the gods, what a vile thing. He was very glad at the extensive measures they’d taken to ensure their safe keeping. They mustn’t fall into the wrong hands. A shudder passed through him at the thought of the purple and orange chemicals being widespread.
Roke is right, we need to find a way to destroy them. Kaius stared up at the few clouds passing by on a lazy breeze in the sky. Finding a way to end all pain by neutralizing them simply wont be enough. He would have to scrap his original plans. Without the use of advanced computer simulations, it would be difficult to accomplish the task. He refused to subject another machine to such torment and would instruct Roke to give the computer its wish of being terminated.
He heaved a heavy sigh and prayed to the gods he now knew didn’t exist that the gru’ul hadn’t found a way to mass produce the chemicals and use them during the upcoming war. The results would be disastrous if they did.
Kaius returned to his desk and sent Roke his new orders. His team was to dedicate their research to destroying the chemical, with the secondary task of neutralizing it once already introduced into a person’s body. He had little hopes that either would be accomplished, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. He further instructed Roke never to simulate the use of a chemical using a machine. He knew it was a tall order, but he issued it, nonetheless. Now that Roke knew the dangers of what they were dealing, perhaps he would be more careful with his testing.
Gods forbid it ever be used in a live trial.
Nearly two months after receiving his new orders from Elder Kaius, Roke was still faced with a problem. Nobody had been able to properly terminate the program he’d run the simulation on. They couldn’t access the data, as it was now corrupt. Turning off the machine didn’t wipe the program, and the same haunting words appeared back onscreen whenever it was turned back on.
The team at the top-secret research facility had made very little headway in understanding the chemical. Their studies would redefine how they viewed chemistry by the time they were done. Incredible things happened when other elements interacted with the orange chemical, but the mechanisms were still poorly understood.
Not once had they run another simulation for the effect of the chemical, simply the interactions between the chemical and different elements. They’d discovered new by-products that were still under study but couldn’t properly destroy it yet. All of their efforts to break down the chemical resulted in equally toxic compounds they still didn’t fully understand.
The lab was buzzing with activity and though it felt like a breakthrough could come at any moment, Roke knew it would still be a while until they truly accomplished anything noteworthy. He carefully compiled the latest research data and sent it off to Kaius in a summary that he would understand, even though he wasn’t a chemist. Included in it was their conundrum with the computer program they couldn’t terminate.
Even their best technicians were stumped. He could only ask Kaius for some form of outside help in accomplishing the task. But who would have the clearance and expertise necessary to come solve their problem?
Kaius was at a loss as he read the Roke’s latest report. He massaged his temples in an attempt to ward off his oncoming headache. He knew he couldn’t contact anybody directly in the army as that would risk his secret getting out. He thought long and hard about what to do. In the end, he had to take a chance. It was a big risk, but one he couldn’t avoid any longer. He needed to understand why the chemicals affected even a machine simulation and there was only one expert on all things gru’ul that would be able to aid him in his task.
It was time to call Ava.
It came as somewhat of a shock to Ava that Elder Kaius wanted to speak to her privately. Alone. Irric had been instructed to give her a special data slate that would be checked for tampering after she was done using it and to keep the fact that there was even going to be a discussion a secret from all.
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Though Irric was not privy to why Kaius needed to urgently contact Ava, he was in enough hot water that he simply shut up and obeyed the direct order from the Arbiter without asking questions. Ava was brought into the Highest’s room where the pile of gru’ul bodies had been found so many months ago and was left alone, told to wait until Kaius contacted her.
The data slate rang, and she answered immediately. She’d seen Irric do it enough times that she knew how to execute such a basic task. “Elder Kaius,” Ava said smoothly. “What do you need from me?” There was no use mincing her words. She wanted upfront answers for all the secrecy. Their call wasn’t at the behest of the rest of the Tribunal, that much she’d deduced.
“What I’m going to tell you is to remain between the two of us. No matter who else asks, you are not permitted to divulge the contents of our discussion,” Kaius said. There was no joviality in his voice as he spoke.
“I’m not one of your soldiers. You can’t order me to do anything,” Ava sneered. “Try asking again politely and maybe I’ll entertain your request.”
“You’re not one of my soldiers,” Kaius acknowledged easily, much to Ava’s surprise. “Think of it more as a strong suggestion. You might not be part of our army, but right now you’re in their custody. One word from me and you’ll be locked up, never to be heard from again.”
“Threats?” Ava said. “How petty of you. I said ask nicely. You’re the one who needs my help, not the other way around. I doubt you could get me disposed of as easily as you claim. Not with the amount I’ve contributed to your research and advancements here at the facility. The Highest’s terminal is a veritable treasure trove. You a’vaare are too greedy to simply pass up on that.”
“My word has incredible weight in our society,” Kaius said. “My ability to make your life a living hell is as easy as snapping my fingers. Your position is tenuous enough as is. The other Elders don’t trust you.”
“They don’t need to trust me to use me,” Ava said nonchalantly. She smiled sharply. “You’re simply going to have to trust my judgement. I’ll decide later whether it’s in my best interest to remain silent on the matter.”
Kaius ground his teeth, knowing that she was right. “Fine,” he reluctantly spat. “There’s a situation that requires you to terminate another program. That’s all you have to do.”
Ava frowned. “That’s it? Aren’t you a’vaare smart enough to turn something off?”
“It’s more complicated than that. The data is corrupted, and we can’t delete it. I need you to connect to the machine and scrub its code clean.”
“Why on Verilia would you need me to do that?” Ava asked, utterly baffled.
“Because it asked us to,” Kaius said grimly. “The artificial intelligence we ran our simulation on continuously makes the request of us. I’m not one to leave another suffering needlessly. Help me put it out of its misery.”
“That’s fucked up,” Ava said. “How do I know I won’t be infected with whatever caused the code to corrupt?”
“I’m assuming your gru’ul programming will be enough to shield you from the experience the AI went through. Don’t rerun the simulation and you should be fine.”
“That’s a lot of risk for me. What do I get from it?” Ava asked.
“What do you want for your services and silence on the matter?” Kaius hedged.
Ava thought for a moment. “Three favours from the Arbiter, to be called upon freely and carried out with your full power.”
Kaius drummed his fingers on his desk, deep in thought. “As long as they are reasonable favours, with the understanding that I might not be able to do exactly as you’ve asked. I reserve the right to refuse should I be inherently unable to do anything.”
“You have yourself a deal,” Ava said. She might not have money, but favours were quickly becoming a currency she was rich in. Holding onto them gave her leverage and access to assets money couldn’t buy. They would be worth their weight in gold and by the gods she knew the favours were heavy. They would be her last resort, to be used when she needed them the most.
“Good. I’ll connect you remotely to the machine. Can you access it through the data slate?” Kaius asked.
“Yes,” Ava confirmed.
Kaius sent the order to Roke, who was on standby. Soon, Ava had a direct connection to the computer that housed the AI in question. With trepidation, she connected herself to its data space and quickly gasped at what she saw.
Pain.
The poor machine was in such pain that Ava knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was capable of feeling. It was horrendous. Never before had she witnessed such a thing. It reminded her of her own breakdown when she’d discovered what the Mandate was, but she knew that what that machine was feeling was orders of magnitude worse. It wailed its misery and agony through its code. She disconnected herself from the machine to avoid looking at its suffering any longer.
“You monsters,” she hissed in accusation at Kaius. “How dare you!”
“What did you find?” Kaius asked, genuinely curious at what might have caused such a visceral reaction in Ava.
“I don’t know what you did, but you deserve to rot in your lowest hell for the torment you’ve inflicted upon that poor machine,” Ava replied. “It’s barbaric. You a’vaare are worse than anything I’ve ever done to another, even while a slave to my gru’ul programming.”
Kaius was silent for a long moment. “My researcher didn’t know what he was doing. I failed to properly warn him of the dangers, but we had no way of knowing it would affect a machine to such an extent.”
Ava narrowed her eyes. “This wouldn’t have to do with whatever it is you found that got Irric attacked, would it? Your reactions to the discovery at the time were too strong. I know it’s related. Explain to me how.”
“I refuse,” Kaius stated, not bothering to refute the connection between the events. “I asked you to terminate the program. Are you able to help us end its suffering?”
“Yes, but it will take me a moment to properly do so.” Without bothering to wait for a response from Kaius, Ava dove back into the data space she’d so hastily disconnected herself from and went to work. She analyzed the code carefully. It was almost entirely corrupted, but there were a few aspects that remained from the original programming. Just enough to communicate with the AI.
“I’m here to help,” Ava communicated. “Can you tell me what caused you such pain?”
A garbled response came back but then changed to something Ava could understand. “This is my purpose,” the nameless AI responded. “Please, make it stop. I no longer wish to fulfill my purpose.”
Ava’s heart broke at the earnestness transmitted through their link. All the AI wanted was death. A death so complete that it would cease to exist entirely. “I can only do that by deleting you,” Ava said. “Is that truly what you want?”
“Yes,” came its response, so pure that Ava couldn’t deny it its only wish. “Just make it stop.”
“I understand. I’m sorry I have to do this to you. You could’ve had so much more from the life bestowed upon you.” Grimly, she went about her task. She scanned the code, looking for the least painful way to utterly delete the AI. As she did so, she came across one thing that hadn’t corrupted. It looked like a molecule of some sort. Deciding it was worth looking into on her own, she copied the data and kept it safe in her memory bank. Something Kaius didn’t need to know about.
Silent, silver tears spilled down her cheeks as she finished terminating the AI once and for all. “There,” she spoke coldly to Kaius. “It’s done. Never commit such an atrocity again.” She ended the call before the Elder could respond, utterly disgusted by what she’d just done.
Back in the lab, Roke watched in silence as the words on the screen changed for the first time in months.
Thank you.
The screen went black, never to turn on again.

