gets. Some of these futurists don’t want it that way. They think they can find a way to transcend the human body and live on in pure intelligence. Man is also fallible—another absolute. He will always corrupt anything he lays his hands on. There’s not one man who can be trusted with the kind of power the Illuma Corp lusts after. That’s why I can’t let them have these machines.” He gestures toward the window with a meaty palm.
“Whatever man is,” I say, unsure of how Elias will respond, “you can’t actually believe these machines were built for good.”
“You are correct—they were not—but anything, even something meant for evil, can be made to serve God’s will.”
I push a bit further. “What is God’s will? How can you claim to know it?”
Elias’s eyes tear into me. “God’s will is made plain to those he chooses. The realization of an artificial intelligence is only a gateway; it’s the catalyst organizations like the Illuma Corp are seeking—a spark that will ignite even greater human folly. God’s Hand will not sit by and watch quietly.”
“How does the Illuma Corp fit into this? I mean—why did they come to Western Lights? I would think they’d try to hide the machine.” I don’t reveal what the other pilot told me—that the Illuma Corp was looking for Elias.
“Why did you come here in your machine?” Elias asks, his searching eyes peering beneath a wrinkled brow.
“I was following the first.”
“No, you were following Thomas Worthington’s directives. He led you here, whether you knew it or not.”
A bit put off by Elias’s insistence, I refute that there’s any power over me but my own will.
Elias disagrees. “Don’t confuse freedom with the illusion of choice. Worthington wanted you here—he wanted us all here.”
“Now that’s crazy. How could he possibly know how any of this would play out? Nobody even knows where he is.”
“Exactly.” Elias nods with self-satisfaction. “How do you know he’s not behind the curtain as we speak?”
Perched on the edge of my chair, I lean back into the black vinyl. The preposterous is now possible. What if Worthington masterminded everything? What if he’s pulling all our strings? Impossible. “No, I don’t buy it.”
Elias jabs a thumb into his chest. “I positioned myself as a tenant of Western Lights, hoping to keep an eye on Worthington, but he strung me along. As soon as I was within reach, he backed me into a corner and forced my hand. Imprisonment in a panic room was an afterthought for him.”
How much of what Elias says is literal? I decide it’s not important. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Not since he locked me up two weeks ago. There was enough food and water in the panic room to last a month, so I don’t think he planned to let me out any time soon.”
“Do you think…” I trail off.
“That he was going to kill me? No, I don’t. He’s too soft for that sort of thing. He’s not a true believer like the Illuma Corp.”
“I just can’t believe anyone could orchestrate all our movements, let alone predict them.”
Elias leans to rest on the table’s edge. “Worthington wants control—just like any other man. His genius went to his head; he’s no longer stable. But he can’t account for every scenario. Your crashing into this building is proof of that. Enough of the wall caved in that I was able to free myself. Now it’s time to go on the offensive.”
I let this sink in. Elias strikes me as the type who thinks in stereotypes and generalities. This doesn’t make for credible judgment in my mind, and I have to consider that his God’s Hand organization has its own agenda as well. “You realize that I don’t trust you or Worthington.”
“Have I given you a reason not to trust me?”
I relay what the other pilot told me. “The Illuma Corp says you stole trade secrets from multiple companies, Redd Research included. I’d say that’s reason enough not to
“Whatever man is,” I say, unsure of how Elias will respond, “you can’t actually believe these machines were built for good.”
“You are correct—they were not—but anything, even something meant for evil, can be made to serve God’s will.”
I push a bit further. “What is God’s will? How can you claim to know it?”
Elias’s eyes tear into me. “God’s will is made plain to those he chooses. The realization of an artificial intelligence is only a gateway; it’s the catalyst organizations like the Illuma Corp are seeking—a spark that will ignite even greater human folly. God’s Hand will not sit by and watch quietly.”
“How does the Illuma Corp fit into this? I mean—why did they come to Western Lights? I would think they’d try to hide the machine.” I don’t reveal what the other pilot told me—that the Illuma Corp was looking for Elias.
“Why did you come here in your machine?” Elias asks, his searching eyes peering beneath a wrinkled brow.
“I was following the first.”
“No, you were following Thomas Worthington’s directives. He led you here, whether you knew it or not.”
A bit put off by Elias’s insistence, I refute that there’s any power over me but my own will.
Elias disagrees. “Don’t confuse freedom with the illusion of choice. Worthington wanted you here—he wanted us all here.”
“Now that’s crazy. How could he possibly know how any of this would play out? Nobody even knows where he is.”
“Exactly.” Elias nods with self-satisfaction. “How do you know he’s not behind the curtain as we speak?”
Perched on the edge of my chair, I lean back into the black vinyl. The preposterous is now possible. What if Worthington masterminded everything? What if he’s pulling all our strings? Impossible. “No, I don’t buy it.”
Elias jabs a thumb into his chest. “I positioned myself as a tenant of Western Lights, hoping to keep an eye on Worthington, but he strung me along. As soon as I was within reach, he backed me into a corner and forced my hand. Imprisonment in a panic room was an afterthought for him.”
How much of what Elias says is literal? I decide it’s not important. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“Not since he locked me up two weeks ago. There was enough food and water in the panic room to last a month, so I don’t think he planned to let me out any time soon.”
“Do you think…” I trail off.
“That he was going to kill me? No, I don’t. He’s too soft for that sort of thing. He’s not a true believer like the Illuma Corp.”
“I just can’t believe anyone could orchestrate all our movements, let alone predict them.”
Elias leans to rest on the table’s edge. “Worthington wants control—just like any other man. His genius went to his head; he’s no longer stable. But he can’t account for every scenario. Your crashing into this building is proof of that. Enough of the wall caved in that I was able to free myself. Now it’s time to go on the offensive.”
I let this sink in. Elias strikes me as the type who thinks in stereotypes and generalities. This doesn’t make for credible judgment in my mind, and I have to consider that his God’s Hand organization has its own agenda as well. “You realize that I don’t trust you or Worthington.”
“Have I given you a reason not to trust me?”
I relay what the other pilot told me. “The Illuma Corp says you stole trade secrets from multiple companies, Redd Research included. I’d say that’s reason enough not to
Similar Books
