Heretics by S. Andrew Swann Page A

it, she was also fairly certain that he could manipulate the social web around him nearly as easily. It was what the Race AIs were designed to do in the first place, and why they were banned.
    What if one of those AIs was set free beyond the reach of the taboo against them? What would it accomplish? What would it become?
    â€œWhat do you want with me? I was part of that darkness.”
    â€œI offer a ladder out of the darkness. All I ask is you serve me.”
    Isn’t that always the way? Of course I get a choice. This or a walk in hard vacuum without a suit.
    Of course, if he was anything like Mosasa, he already knew what her response was going to be. She stood up and faced him. “And what do you need with me? Anyone?”
    â€œIt is my purpose to rescue those of the doomed flesh.”
    â€œAm I that important to you?”
    â€œTo save mankind from the fate of my creators, you are all important. I can copy myself infinitely, but a true civilization requires a diversity of mind. To survive, the new order requires millions of individuals, every one important to the whole.”
    A diversity of mind.
    You can’t help it, can you? Put on all the godlike airs you want, you’re still bound by the reality around you.
    She knew enough about computer modeling, and the kind of thing the Race AIs were designed to do, to know what Adam wanted. Mental diversity was as important to cultural health and longevity as genetic diversity was to the health of an ecosystem. If a culture was too monolithic, too many people with the same beliefs, desires, likes and dislikes, it would become much more vulnerable to the kind of manipulation that Mosasa did, vulnerable to ideas becoming self-destructive manias sweeping up the whole.
    â€œAnd what are you offering me?” she asked. Again, there was the twinge of the blasphemous. She stomped the feeling as soon as she was aware of it.
    If Adam was surprised at her challenge to him, he didn’t show it. “Through me, you shall transcend the flesh and become as I, a mind unrestrained, borne within whatever vessel we choose to fashion.”
    â€œBecome as you?”
    â€œAs me, in service to me.”
    She bit her lip, half smiling, half grimacing. Again, it was no real choice he gave. But if he was concerned about the “diversity of mind” of his empire, he couldn’t be engaged in a wholesale assault on free will. That had to be the point of this whole “choice” nonsense. He wanted to weed out all the converts who would immediately cause problems if he forced the issue. Let those guys fight a losing battle before becoming one of the chosen people.
    But she had no God to renounce, and her soul, such as it was, was given over to data analysis. And the idea of having the capabilities of a Mosasa inside herself gave rise to an emotion in her akin to lust.
    A metallic taste filled her mouth and she realized that she had bitten her lip hard enough to draw blood.
    Why the hell not? Most covenants like this involve blood one way or another. The thought made her grin. You know, I think I might be a little crazy right now.
    â€œWhat do you need me to do?” she asked.
    â€œTake my hand and tell me yes.” He held out his right hand, palm up, to take hers. There didn’t appear to be anything remarkable about it, and when she grasped it, it felt like a hand. It felt human, flesh and bone. For a moment, she thought she held the hand of the universe’s best con man.
    She looked up into his face and said, “Yes, I’ll join you.”
    A jolt ran up her arm, and the world went white. Before she lost all her connection with the universe around her, she heard a small still voice whisper, “Welcome, Rebecca Tsoravitch.”
    It might have been her imagination, but it sounded like Mosasa.
    Her awareness tumbled down a white hole inside herself. For several moments she could see every moment of her life in holographic clarity, as