July 17th, 2175
14:11
Citadel, Widow-System
Presidium
Human Embassy
I let out a satisfied grunt as I stretched both my arms above my head, tensing the muscles in my back right before relaxing them again.
After sitting in a chair for hours and reading through report after report, while also writing dozens of statements of various lengths, any movement felt good. My body was downright begging to move around for a bit.
Deciding that listening to it would be for the best, I stood up and went around my desk into the middle of the office. My head turned back to my terminal as I heard the sound of another email coming in, but I decided to ignore it for now. I had been working nonstop since I had entered my office at eight o'clock, and I thought that I finally deserved a break. Besides, if the email had been urgent and important, my VI-assistant would have flagged it, and the sound of it arriving would have been different.
Walking over to the side where some food and drinks were placed by one of the embassy's cooks, I started to fill myself a glass with juice made from Halsha-Berries.
I drank half of its contents in one go, before putting it back down and refilling it, a small uptick of my lips flitting over my face. Halsha-Berries had been first found on a jungle planet somewhere in the Andolas system, a system far off from any of the regular routes through the Alliance territory.
Apparently, it was quite difficult to replicate the environment the berries needed to grow, as they would only do so if their natural habitat was mimicked. Yet, the effort to grow them was well worth it. After all, they didn't just taste good, but their vitamin levels were far better than any fruit found on Earth. Especially, the Alliance's military found the berries useful to enhance the rations that the soldiers would carry with them during longer missions. The person who first managed to grow the berries away from their homeplanet had earned themselves a golden nose and the undying thanks of thousands upon thousands of soldiers since the berries even managed to improve the taste of the rations. Not nearly enough that the soldiers stopped complaining about it, but every bit counted, right?
Yet, one would have expected that after a hundred years, almost two hundred, someone would have managed to create tasty rations.
Well, or maybe the whole military was simply keeping the stereotype alive when talking with outsiders because they thought it was a funny joke.
Grabbing one of the sandwiches prepared for me, I took it and my glass of juice outside to the balcony.
Putting my glass on the balustrade, I slowly started to eat my food while observing the Presidium.
As always, the environmental controls did their best to simulate a sunny and warm day, with even a light breeze added in. Knowing that the Keepers had nothing to do with that setting and simply took care of the machines, I couldn't help but be impressed by the people in charge of the controls. They had managed to create a weather where one could work and relax at the same time. The people designing it had obviously put a lot of thought and effort into it. It wouldn't surprise me if this work had given inspiration to many a dissertation.
A chuckle escaped me when I realized that my thought was probably true. After all, the circumstance that most of the species present on the Citadel would, on average, say that this weather represented their favorite.
It was always the small things that got me to realize again and again that, despite all our differences, we had many things in common. Thankfully so. Otherwise, any diplomatic relationship would have been doomed from the beginning. As long as there was a connection between people, one could slowly start to understand each other. The galaxy would look like a whole different place if the other species had a completely alien thought process from humanity.
Taking in this peaceful atmosphere helped me to relax after a long day of work.
Yet, when the word "peaceful" went through my head, a derisive snort escaped me.
"Peaceful" was perhaps the right word to describe the current situation, but an even better word would have been "quiet."
Right now, the galaxy was in a state of "quiet" but not "peace." Conflicts could break out at a moment's notice, and the thankfully resolved situation a few days back with the newly discovered Prothean ruins was a prime example that we were currently in an era of "quiet." The Turians and Alliance had been ready to shoot at each other over the right to explore and excavate a ruin whose worth had been entirely unknown. And in the end, it had been discovered that it was only truly interesting for archeologists, as the only technology that had been discovered there had already been found in other Prothean ruins.
Yet, it had started a diplomatic crisis that could have easily escalated into an armed conflict. An armed conflict over nothing.
It was another reason why I promoted the exploration of sciences without any Prothean background. After all, if you could develop your own technology without any outside help, why should you ever be interested in starting a fight over the scraps left behind by those who came before us?
Sadly, there were still many people in the Alliance who hadn't come around to my point of view yet. Probably because our discovery of the Mars ruins had been the push that got us out of our home system. The romanticization of that was hard to shake from people's minds. Yet, I would continue to push human technology as much as I could, even using my position as ambassador to support it.
But even if the Alliance were to concede every Prothean ruin to the Council, which it would never do, it wouldn't magically create a galaxy at peace.
From the latest reports that went over my desk, it seemed like the Batarians were ramping up their production of war materials like guns and ships while also recruiting more and more people into their military, even taking in some of the Terminus scum to bolster their ranks by promising them riches and a haven to retreat to.
Every analyst that I knew was sure about one thing. The Alliance's borders would see a major increase in so-called pirate attacks. After all, if it were pirates that were attacking us, the Alliance would not be able to declare that the Batarian Hegemony had committed an act of war against us, which would pull the three Council species, mainly the Turians. into the conflict, as one of the main points of the treaty that made the Alliance a part of the Citadel community and into a subordinate role, at least for now, to the Council, was that those at the top had to support the nation that had come under attack from the outside, which the Hegemony now counted as.
Yet, in the end, it would fall completely into the Alliance's hands to take care of the problem as long as it was only "pirates." After all, if the Alliance wasn't even able to take care of simple pirates, how would we ever be able to take a position on the Council, which had to defend all the members of the Citadel community, not just against pirates but against all outside threats?
Their ploy was easy to understand, but that didn't mean that it wasn't effective. It would keep the Alliance occupied, concentrated on the immediate threat, unable to further their position on the Citadel, and slow down its growth.
The first two points were true, while the last ones only didn't apply to us because we were humans. Adversity wasn't a reason for us to slow down. Instead, it propelled us to greater heights. Our growth was likely to soar in the next few years. And not just in the military-industrial complex, which already saw a slight increase in preparation for the Batarian aggression, but in other fields as well. Medicine, infrastructure, logistics, everything would improve.
And our position on the Citadel? Well, it would be my job to take advantage of the chaos and further our image in the eyes of the other species of the galaxy, and by that, I wasn't just talking about the Council species.
The Hanar, Elcor, Volus, and Drell, who mostly followed the lead of the Hanar, were a part of the Citadel too, and ignoring them in favour of the Council species would be a huge mistake. When humanity got a Council seat, the door would be open for the others to ascend as well. They had waited for far longer than us for a seat, and at least the Volus had a good shot at getting one, especially with the support of the Turians, who would want an ally on the Council that would follow their lead. Of course, as long as the Volus were a protectorate of the Turians, their ascension to Council race would probably never happen, but if they got rid of the labels while keeping everything in place, it would be possible without the Salarians and Asari blocking them.
Anyways, without good standing with the "minor" Citadel races, our position on the Council would be more shaky than strictly necessary, and they would probably protest against any change we proposed, even if those changes were to their benefit, simply because they were envious of our quick rise. As such, I had to foster good relations with them to smooth any potential edges before they could turn into real problems later down the road.
That was one of the reasons why I had a meeting with the Hanar ambassador just yesterday. After all, court the Hanar, and you are courting the Drell at the same time. While the two species weren't as influential in Citadel politics as the Volus, the Hanar were at the center of a religious movement. The Hanar saw the Protheans, whom they called the "Enkindlers", as religious figures and built a whole religion around them. A religion that every Hanar I met had been a part of.
Furthermore, the religion was not exclusive to the Hanar, and many people of the other species of the galaxy had also converted to it, and from what I knew, even humans. As such, it wouldn't be smart to make an enemy or ignore them. After all, religion was always a hot topic, and if a whole religion was against you, things could turn dicey pretty fast.
The talks with the Hanar ambassador were about a proposal the Alliance wanted to make to the Illuminated Primarchy. On one of our planets, relatively close to our borders with the Attican Travers, we had found the remains of a Prothean building. Nothing of real interest to the Council, and the team they sent to inspect it left after a few days. Yet, it was close to one of the planet's oceans. Its existence had only been a comment in the marginalia in one of my reports about the situation there, but when I read it, an idea had come to me that I had shared with the President of the Alliance, and approval to implement.
The Alliance had no use for it, but another species might have.
As such, I had proposed to the Hanar ambassador that the Illuminated Primarchy, which also doubled as the central organization of their religion, use it as the focus point of their religious activities within the Alliance territory. The Hanar would be allowed to erect any buildings they wanted in a certain radius around those ruins without the Alliance's interference, and in return, they would be subject to the Alliance's laws while there. Of course, special exceptions would also be implemented, but those would only be written down after long negotiations.
To say that the Hanar ambassador had been overjoyed would have been an understatement. I had to hold him back from enveloping me in a hug with his tentacles and explain that I wasn't a believer in the "Enkindlers" and that the Alliance was simply trying to live up to its mandate of religious freedom. While most of the Alliance's population didn't believe in any religion, the ones I knew from Earth from my previous life still existed, and even if their old conflicts flared up from time to time, the faithful were allowed to believe in whatever they wanted without fear of persecution.
Despite my genuine belief that everyone should be allowed to hold to any faith they wanted, I had to be truthful to myself that my proposal to select that specific planet as the center of the Enkindler religion wasn't without an ulterior motive.
Any religion and its leaders had influence and power over their people, and the leaders of the Enkindler religion were the Hanar. We couldn't stop humans from choosing this particular religion without violating one of the articles of Alliance's charter and making us into hypocrites. So, by focusing their religious efforts within our territory, it would be far easier to keep an eye on them instead of letting them grow chaotically.
Furthermore, since the planet was relatively close to the Attican Travers and conclusively to any pirate attack sponsored by the Hegemony, the Hanar would probably support any move to further improve our military presence in that area to keep their new religious center safe. And the Council would probably not even try to complain since they also knew that messing with religion could open the gates to hell.
Was I a bad person for using the Hanar and their genuine belief in the Enkindler to further the goals of the Alliance? Probably. But I slept last night like a baby, so it couldn't be too bad.
Finishing my break and bringing the glass back, I went back to my terminal. I still had a lot to do, and I wanted to get ahead of my work.
After all, I wouldn't be on the Citadel for the next few days.
I got a message about a project that I had neglected for far too long, and it seemed like it showed some interesting results.
July 19th, 2175
13:09
Nevarus-Prime, Sicarus-System
Secure AI-Testing Facility
As I walked behind Dr. Flare, one of the head researchers of the facility, my eyes didn't stop wandering all over the place. Dozens upon dozens of screens showed bits of code that I didn't understand in the least, but looked like they were important to whatever they were trying to do in this part of the facility.
"And what are you doing here?" I asked. A question that had left my mouth numerous times since Dr. Flare had started showing me around the building. After all, I wanted to know exactly what they were doing here since I had gotten them the permit to research AI, and it was me who would have to bear the consequences if the Council and the Spectres they sent to investigate saw something that wasn't covered by the remit.
"We call this part of the facility the 'Battle-Room'," Dr. Flare started to explain, turning her head toward me slightly while walking forward in a slow tempo to give me time to study my surroundings. "In here, we are pitting our best VI constructs against each other in a battle of code-breaking. Each VI gets a rudimentary defense algorithm and the task to improve it while at the same time trying to break through its opponent's defenses. Many of those VIs are, as I showed you already, on the cusp of breaking into the territory of what we would call an AI. These little battles are meant to train their cyber-warfare capabilities and increase their memory databanks with tactics that worked and didn't work."
"Have you seen something interesting during those tests?" I asked, genuinely interested. Cyber-warfare was one of the most important fields in our current time, especially the defense against it. Nowadays, everything was usually connected, meaning that if someone got access to a system, they could create untold chaos or damage. Even the systems of spaceships could be controlled remotely if the person was skilled enough. Thankfully, people who were skilled enough to do so could be counted on two hands, even in a galaxy as large as ours, and most of them were under constant watch from intelligence agencies. Furthermore, the system architecture of spaceships had developed in a direction where individual parts could be disconnected from the rest and isolated until the infestation of foreign code was eradicated.
Still, it made cyber-warfare in a space battle as important as positioning and raw firepower. Besides, the most common use wasn't to directly take control of the enemy's systems but to feed them as much junk data as possible to interfere with their targeting system. After all, most targeting systems were run with the help of VIs, and excessive data junk was the only reason why ships could even miss a shot.
In that vein, VIs were used to sift through that junk data to make precise shots possible while keeping the enemy occupied. More advanced VIs, like those tested here, also kept a barrier up to keep the junk data from infesting the targeting systems in the first place.
"Our most advanced VIs," said Dr. Flare, "are starting to become tricky to deal with. They are slowly becoming creative and cunning with everything at their disposal. We have to keep a constant watch on them since they are close to stepping into true AI territory. For three VIs each, we have a team of programmers constantly watching to see if they are trying to go against our directives and try to alter their core programming. If that happens, our programmers have to immediately act and destroy their data core."
"Isn't that a bit harsh? And did you have to do this before?"
"It is one of the stipulations from the Council. But why are you asking? You should know that. You signed the agreement. Furthermore, you have asked me the same questions over and over. I bet the next question you were going to ask would be over our security measures in this part of the facility," said Dr. Flare, a tone of exasperation in her voice.
I let out an amused chuckle, holding up a small device from inside my suit jacket. "You could say that you're giving me a verbal report of everything going on. As you said, I signed the agreement. As such, I am responsible for everything going on here, and I have to be informed about it. I could have made you give me a written report, but I thought this way was more convenient."
Dr. Flare looked at me, and I could see how she was working through my argument before she nodded slowly and said: "I understand. Very well. Then I will not complain anymore about the same question. Anything that reduces the amount of paperwork I have to fill out on a weekly basis is a blessing." She took a moment before answering my previous question. "And yes, we already had to destroy four data cores previously. We rushed their development and didn't take enough care to make sure their shackles were secured enough. Thankfully, every core and VI is isolated from each other and most of the facility whenever they are not in use. Otherwise, we could have had some real problems on our hands."
"And the security here? The question you have already guessed?"
"It is like the rest of the facility. The VI cores get brought here whenever we want to test them and are installed into an isolated network. The only connection to the rest of the facility is via the electricity cables. No data connection. Even our monitoring equipment is not connected to anything but the system inside this part of the facility. Furthermore, we are using Omni-tools without any wireless function, as I said before, and are using the installed video function to record the data that is displayed on our screens here while another program converts them into a written report."
"Could a VI hide a code inside the data that activates when it is written down?"
"An interesting idea, but no," denied Dr. Flare. "First of all, the VI would have to do that deliberately, which would mean it turned into an AI, something we are keeping a keen eye on. Secondly, the VI would have to know that we are doing it in the first place, and as long as nobody mentions it to the VI, it won't, as we have no cameras that they could access to learn for themselves. Thirdly, the program on our Omni-tools uses a video-to-text tool that isn't compatible with any current programming tools. The text program is too old for that."
"But it seems to me like you thought about that possibility before."
"It is our job to think about every possibility and secure any holes before they can be exploited. We have a bi-weekly meeting to talk about such things. It's interesting, and I would invite you to take part in one if I didn't know that you had no time for them."
I nodded, thankful for the thought, but Dr. Flare was right. I had no time for taking part in such a meeting, and I probably wouldn't understand anything anyway.
Dr. Flare continued to show me more of the facility, and if I was honest, I was impressed by it.
The whole building was the only man-made structure on Nevarus-Prime, a planet that didn't support any organic life, but still stable enough for humans to survive with the right know-how. Furthermore, the planet was isolated in case of any AI taking over the facility. Any data arriving or leaving the planet was transferred via memory sticks that were barely large enough for the data they were supposed to transport. The only possible way onto the planet was via taking a shuttle from Nevarus-3, a planet that supported a very small human outpost. No spaceship was allowed within a certain radius of Nevarus-Prime, and two Alliance frigates would open fire on any ship trying to violate that edict.
A Spectre, who had appraised the facility, said that he recommended our security measures for dealing with AI should become the new standard for every facility within Council space which got a permit to research this dangerous piece of technology. I didn't know how much traction that report got, but to be held as the new standard was a big win in my book.
Especially, since it would help us lighten the scrutiny on this place and the things hidden in the deep.
Dr. Flare and I were standing in the elevator, going down to a deeper level, when she suddenly hit the emergency stop button. Before I could ask what she was doing, she put in a code on the screen, and the elevator started to move sideways.
The doors suddenly opened to a small train car, and Dr. Flare bid me to take a seat with a small but genuine smile. "I believe I showed you around enough in our official facility. After all, Dr. Ryder is waiting to show you his own progress."
"And I can't wait to see how much progress he has made over all this time," I replied with a similar smile as the train car started to speed up into the darkness of the tunnels.