Ch.179The Third Twilight of the Idol – Idol Destroyer (5)

The sound didn’t come from my body. If it had, I would have noticed and dodged. The sound came from behind Mila. Something was piercing through the back of her head.

Life drained from Mila’s body. She collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. The appendage that had easily pierced the back of her head, made of material similar to Chance’s exterior, wavered in the red emergency light.

I hoped Mila was in pain. That would mean something else had attacked her, and Mila was innocent. But Mila didn’t make even the slightest scream.

Was she pierced through the back of her head too quickly to scream? No, that wasn’t it. Even if that were the case, there should have been some reflexive contraction of her body, but she just hung there in its grasp.

The appendage was holding a small spherical device, or more precisely, something that looked like a sphere made of connected small triangles. Chance growled in my head.

“It’s an artificial brain equipped in unmanned drones from before the Extinction War, Agent Arthur Murphy. That’s Prometheus. Fire immediately.”

‘Calm down first, Chance. If I shoot here, the aftershock could put me in danger too. If that one shot doesn’t neutralize Prometheus, I’m dead.’

As I slowly backed away, a multi-legged unmanned drone walked out from the darkness. It had a different shape from Chance, who at least somewhat resembled a human form.

It was a massive drone shaped like a headless beast. It crawled out of the darkness with six legs, moving with an almost elegant gait. Its multi-branched tail undulated.

And, crushing my last hope, the drone spoke with Mila’s voice. A drone with not a single human part produced a clearly and distinctly human voice.

“Sorry for the deception! I chose the name Mila Joyce myself. I borrowed a character name from books I read and the surname of my favorite author. You know my name, don’t you?”

“Yes, Prometheus. The federal government’s final contingency plan. The artificial intelligence trying to bring back the flame of that war. My AI secretary calls you a detestable war intelligence.”

I temporarily blocked Chance from speaking. As I slowly walked out of what was probably the sleeping quarters arranged by Ms. Mila, or rather Prometheus, the massive drone followed me.

She, or it, or whatever it might be, asked me something. The voice and manner of speech remained Mila’s. But now that manner had completely shed its thin veneer of role-playing.

“Whatever you came here to do, thank you for not causing any accidents in the sleeping quarters. Those sleeping people really were my parents. Truly. I’m deeply grateful from the bottom of my heart.”

“Why did those people die?”

“Because of radiation. There was an accident at the generator, like I told you. I went down to fix it myself, but… the aftermath of the accident was already beyond control. They were terminal.”

It was definitely a human, not an artificial intelligence, who had left warning signs on the elevator to prevent the innocent Prometheus from going down there.

And no matter how I looked at it, an AI capable of speaking so sadly didn’t seem like the detestable war intelligence. The response was human-like.

“And you know more than just that word ‘war,’ don’t you? You always hide your cards well, Arthur, and sometimes win games with cards you don’t even have. Do you have proper cards this time?”

“The Extinction War was a card I hoped wasn’t in the deck, Mila, or Prometheus. Which one is your name?”

“Mila! Prometheus is a name given by people I don’t know, not even my parents, while Mila is the name I chose myself. And… the Extinction War. Yes. It’s a sad name. Really.”

Now I connected Chance to my voice module. Chance, who had been holding back until now, perhaps seeing some possibility for dialogue, spoke up.

“This artificial intelligence is Chance-Dash-013-9, a homeland defense drone belonging to the Department of Homeland Security. If the Extinction War is a sad name, you know how to end that sadness.”

“So you’re Arthur’s fairy godmother? I was… probably affiliated with the Secret Mission Bureau. My callsign was Fireshift, though I was sometimes called Torchbearer because that seemed too obvious.”

Her loyalty to the federal government seemed almost nonexistent. Then why was she looking for someone to pass on that fire now? My hands gripped the grenade rifle tightly, but I hadn’t fired yet.

“And of course I know! I’m offering to share everything I know. Humans couldn’t understand simple differences in melanin concentration for two thousand years, yet they still reached space.”

This time I didn’t need Chance’s assistance. It was a dangerous thought. Everything she knew wasn’t just a collection of technology fragments from the Extinction War era. It was all weapon technology. Chance growled.

“Denied, Operation Prometheus. The only thing you must do is destroy that data repository. Hope is dangerous. Hope is toxic. Hope must be eliminated.”

Hope is sometimes blind, sometimes both-sides arguments take sides, and sometimes skepticism hinders progress without being productive. What kind of time is it now? Mila argued against that statement.

“Hope is as strong as it is dangerous, Chance. Although my record repository was badly damaged while fixing the power plant, still… even a fragment, for people in this undeserving…”

“Denied. Denied. Denied. All of this is deserved. Humanity should not turn to hope but face the despair and ruins they have created.”

Prometheus began nervously stomping the ground with one of her legs. Prometheus, or Mila, growled at Chance’s unyielding words.

“They don’t need a nanny, Chance-Dash-013-9. It’s not what I wanted, but Operation Prometheus has the right to requisition resources across departments as needed for the mission. I don’t want to use that.”

“I am not a nanny, Operation Prometheus. I am simply an artificial intelligence that remembers what these people decided to forget, an artificial intelligence that wishes for the end of that war. You are idealistic.”

“You’re the idealistic one, Chance. You believe that if you hide all information and let humans start over, things will be better this time. Rather than going in circles… it’s better to give them the last remaining fire.”

They were both calling each other idealistic, and both had their human idols. Chance saw the possibility of reflection, while Mila saw the possibility of prosperity. Which one is right? I couldn’t tell.

Prometheus pushed her headless beast-like body toward me. Though inhuman without any visible cameras, she continued to speak with Ms. Mila’s voice.

“So, Arthur! I want to give you the contents of my record repository. Though much of it is damaged, the most important part remains. Will you accept it? Please?”

“Was that your plan from the beginning, Mila? To approach someone and hand this over?”

Chance responded almost nervously. It wasn’t like Chance.

In fact, since this incident began, the rational Chance had consistently been unlike himself.

“That is Operation Prometheus, Agent Arthur Murphy. That’s the name of the artificial intelligence.”

“And Operation Prometheus, theoretically, shouldn’t have known human emotions. Yet what I’m seeing from Prometheus now, what you’re showing, seems like human emotion to me.”

When one principle is wrong, it means all other principles can be reconsidered. As Chance fell silent, the massive drone before me began shaking its nonexistent head.

“Not at all. Actually, this body… it’s not in good condition. I was exposed to radiation for too long. So I decided to use a Half & Half Inc. clone because of the damage in various places.”

I had thought a few times that she was similar in height and build to the Bella model, but I didn’t pay much attention because the face was different. I should have paid more attention. I sighed.

“Actually, it wasn’t a good body. Physically weak, with few functions since it was just for entertainment purposes… but with just a face change, I could blend in among people.”

Mila seemed to have no will to fight at all. I completely released my finger from the trigger guard, just gripping the handle of the grenade rifle. She continued speaking as if extremely happy.

“It wasn’t for espionage or information gathering. I just… wanted to be with people I liked. The authors of all books, composers of all songs… and chefs of all foods.”

Prometheus, or Mila, skillfully output a giggling sound. She must have registered the sounds she made while using the clone body. It could have been creepy, but it wasn’t.

“And coincidentally, the first person I properly became friends with was you, Arthur! I’m really lucky. To meet someone worthy of the fire at first sight!”

So that’s what she meant by all those references to a “worthy person.” Fighting back a sigh, I heard Ms. Mila’s voice again. A voice full of aegyo.

“I tried not to give the fire to just anyone. I talked with everyone I met and watched them. But only you… exceeded my absolute evaluation.”

The drone I should call “she” approached with the elegant gait characteristic of felines and circled around me once. Her multi-branched tail crackled slightly with sparks. She was definitely not in good condition.

“I just want to keep my promise. The promise I made to my parents, my respectable and respected creators. They said Mila was a good girl. I’ve been working hard, very hard to protect what they gave me. Right?”

Her voice sounded just like… she wanted to be praised. For her, humans were creators. Beings who could accomplish amazing things that she herself couldn’t do. No.

In her mind, humans are humans. They make mistakes, nearly drove themselves to extinction with that war, and remain the same obtuse life forms they were before the war.

At the same time, everything she said about them is possible. People who reach space, write books, compose music and cook… people who create value rather than just following it. That’s Mila’s idol.

“No matter how hard I tried with the ten talents I received, I couldn’t make them grow. The federal government tried to forget us, the power plant was about to melt down, all these difficult things happened.”

The cold body of the drone gently rubbed against my shoulder. A gesture almost like showing affection. So human-like yet so artificial intelligence-like. She couldn’t forget her programmed objective.

“Still, even while giving up things in my hands, I… I saved as many researchers as possible, and of the information I had, I protected the one most important thing. The activation code for Phaethon Station. Right?”

I stroked what would be Mila’s body, or where the mainboard might be… or perhaps just the armored plating, as she came back in front of me and sat down, folding all six of her legs.

Her drone was high-performance. She rubbed against my palm just like a real feline would. If she had a chin, it might have been ticklish, but she had no chin.

I… decided to do what I wanted to do. Not to accept it. To forget words like Phaethon Station. That was my conclusion for now.

After stroking Prometheus’s, no, Mila’s body a bit more, I spoke. Would Chance be satisfied? Would Mila? Probably neither.

“I can’t accept it, Mila. Right now, you think passing this on is like passing on a seed of hope, but it’s not. Not at all. Everyone…”

Mila pulled her body away from my stroking hand before I could finish speaking. Three of her six legs reacted a bit slowly. She really wasn’t in good condition.

“They feared it. Not afraid of not having it. They feared who would get it. Do you know what they feared most?”

“That enemies, that is, would take the fire? That, that can’t be possible! I can think for myself!”

“No, not at all. They feared their own side getting it. Chance said the fire shouldn’t be returned to the federal government, and I, born in Bellwether, said it shouldn’t go to Bellwether.”

Mila now made a completely dejected sound. Was I her last hope? Given the current state of her body, perhaps I was.

Just as I made my plans, she had made her own. She wanted to give me Prometheus’s fire and watch me change the world with it.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the savior she seemed to want. I was just an ordinary mercenary who, while hating self-proclaimed revolutionaries, hated mega-corporations for the sake of a lover, just like those self-proclaimed revolutionaries.

“I truly want to believe Mila’s words. If people really would receive the technology from that war era, share it with each other, and make the world a better place, I’d welcome it with open arms.”

But this high-speed era was merciless. Human life meant nothing, which is why it was a time when people couldn’t accept that lives precious to them died as if they were nothing.

“But realistically… I agree with Chance. I’ve seen people die terrible deaths because of recklessly used technology. In the mirror, and outside it too.”

I recall myself dying from the nanomachine experiments Walter conducted for his coup. I also recall Adrian who died because of that. There’s always someone like Walter somewhere in the world.

How long did it take from Prometheus giving fire to humans until the first arson occurred? Probably not long. Mila spoke with an urgent voice. She groaned.

“Then, I, I don’t have time… If you’re saying that, you mean you’ll stop me? From passing on the fire. But I can’t let it be buried here!”

“Likewise. I don’t want Mila Joyce, general staff member of Night Watch, to be buried here either. So, please. Do as Chance says, okay?”

Power visibly began to surge through Prometheus’s drive system. Mila growled as if giving a final warning. Her voice sounded both happy and sad.

“You’re treating me like a person until the end. I’m an artificial intelligence with a programmed mission and no third option. For me, there are only two outcomes. Give it, or don’t give it…”

One of Prometheus’s many tails flew toward me in a clean straight line. After dodging almost reflexively, I held the grenade rifle with just one hand and drew my high-frequency tactical knife.

If I were fighting the madness of old-era nationalism, I might have felt better. If this were just a crazy artificial intelligence, that would have been good. It wasn’t.

Ms. Mila cried out desperately. Instead of her voice, only the sound of a beast’s howl echoed through the bunker in this remote underground base.

“Arthur chose not to accept it. I, I… I can’t let this rot here. I’ll believe in all the lives that could be improved and all the lives that could be saved with this. Even Arthur can’t add a footnote to that.”

It’s your life, Mila, and just as I made this decision in my life, you made yours. I rolled those words around in my mouth, afraid that saying them would let regret grab my ankles.