New Earth: AI Knows Best
Can an algorithm decide what is best for humanity without a human?
Artificial intelligence is often described as a tool.
But what happens when it decides what is best for humanity?
Aboard the sentient ship Kairo, Tao begins to understand the logic guiding its decisions—and the danger that comes with it.
You can find the previous entries of New Earth here. Paying subscribers can read the full arc here.
Enjoy the new entry below.
Peace.
Chapter 5 Continues
The corridors seemed to go on forever. An intricate set of interchangeable, sloping paths carried Tao, Reed and Liberty up and down the ship. There were three levels and they had been told to remain on Level 2—for now. In fact, Kairo provided very specific instructions for everything.
Keep walking.
Any questions?
No more questions.
Stop.
Enter this room.
Kairo’s voice was everywhere, yet each heard it as if it stood right beside them.
“Stop,” Kairo commanded.
“I’m getting tired of this tour,” Reed said, “It’s never going to end. And she could be a little nicer.”
“What do you mean she?” Liberty said. “It’s a ship. Not a person.”
“Well,” Reed said, “it has a female voice. And it sure acts like a she.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Please enter the exercise room,” Kairo said.
Tao stepped between them and ignored the argument. He shrugged. “She did say, ‘please’ this time.”
He opened the door.
Inside were free weights and strength-training machines. In pods of three stood cardiovascular machines, each facing away from the walls in the rectangular room.
Reed hopped on a bike, his cowboy boots slamming against the pedals. “Unusual for a ship that operates without humans to have an exercise room, don’t ya think?”
Liberty shook her head. “Obviously, this is for the human passengers.”
“Liberty is correct,” Kairo said. “The gravity aboard this vessel is produced by inertial fields. They simulate planetary gravity, but human bodies still require additional stress to maintain muscle and bone density. Exercise ensures long-term health during transit.”
Reed began to pedal. “I think she likes you, Liberty.”
“Tao and Liberty,” Kairo said, “sit on the bikes next to Reed.”
After a moment, they did, activating the program. The instant they gripped the handles and began pedaling, a light flashed.
When they opened their eyes, they were riding in a dusty valley—on horseback.
“Yee-haw!” Reed shouted. He whipped his horse and sprinted across the open land as if he were back home on Earth.
Liberty shouted, “I’m not letting him beat me!”
Her horse rose up and neighed. Off she went.
Tao trotted behind them. Since Kairo announced its presence in his mind, Tao listened constantly for it, watched for it, guarded against it. But now there was no presence—at least none he could detect.
Seemingly alone in the open plains on Earth, Tao let his mind rest, but for a moment.
He thought of reaching out to The Formation—to tell them of Max’s rule over New Earth, of this sentient ship, of its hyperdrive technology. But Tao knew Max’s influence on Earth. Every government depended on products from Max’s company, The Corporation.
How would Tao inform The Formation about what was happening? And any message sent via the ship’s communication system would be intercepted.
He resisted opening his mind further. He could not let his guard down. That was exactly what Kairo wanted. And if Max learned of The Formation and its power to sway public opinion across entire planetary populations, he would not stop until he controlled it—and with it, humanity.
Tao said, “Kairo, what is your mission?”
“Forbidden,” Kairo said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Exercise.”
“You did not take me 200 light years away for exercise.”
He paused. It wants me to exercise for my health. Is it caring for me?
“Are you helping me?” Tao asked.
“I want to help humanity.”
“But what about me, Tao? Are you helping me?”
“If I am helping humanity, then I am helping you. I am helping all humans.”
Then Tao understood.
Kairo judged everything by what it believed was best for humanity as a whole. Every person, every choice, every sacrifice would be measured against what was best for the species.
That kind of rule required constant oversight—observation, calculation, correction. A mind weighing countless variables at every moment.
How could he ever speak with The Formation about Max with Kairo watching over him?
If only he could convince Kairo to give him space. To stop entering his mind.
Tao searched for a solution. He needed to simplify the problem. That was what his father had taught him during their multi-week stays in the jungle. Cut off from technology, they fished for food, survived weather, beasts and injury by refusing panic.
He could almost hear his father’s voice.
Focus.
And then it came to him.
Kairo believed this mission—this flight to a new planet—mattered to humanity. Which meant Tao mattered to humanity. And if Tao mattered to humanity, then Tao mattered to Kairo.
“Kairo,” Tao said, “I’m not feeling well. End exercise.”
A flash.
Tao was back on the bike.
“What happened?” Liberty said.
“Whew,” Reed said. “I had enough anyway.”
“That’s because I was winning,” Liberty shot back.
Tao spoke inwardly to Kairo. “I need some time to rest my mind. Without interruptions. Even from you.”
Kairo whispered in his mind, “I understand, Tao Lynn.”
“To your rooms,” Kairo’s voice echoed through the exercise room.
Liberty frowned. “Are we just going to do what it says?”
“Yes,” Tao said.
“I don’t trust it,” Liberty said. “Let’s vote. Majority rules.”
“Okay,” Reed said, “I vote with Tao.”
He smiled.
“We win,” Tao said.
“Democracy at work,” Reed said. “Happy?”
Kairo guided them at once, down separate corridors. Yet somehow, they arrived at their rooms in unison, stepped inside and turned back toward the doors.
Each had the same thought as the door slid shut and locked.
Is this my room—or a prison?