Professor Haas stood in the center of the broadcast room, surrounded by the noise of the undergraduates as they talked. He’d not disabled their microphones, a choice that he often made after a few sessions. If they could act responsibly then he would treat them so, though there were times when that hope had failed.

When he felt he’d given them a long enough break he said, “Twenty fifty-seven.”

That was all it took to silence the six who were speaking. No person interested in his course would fail to recognize the number. Perhaps in a hundred years it would become forgotten, like so many tragedies before it, but not yet.

With their full attention garnered, Haas continued to speak, “The People’s Republic Of China had been facing continual internal strife and rebellion, as more and more of their citizens grew disinterested with how their government was operating.”

As Haas lifted one hand an array of images appeared and showed various scenes of rioting. “Their systems designed to mitigate those issues were proved inefficient, so they set on the task of creating a watchdog. With it they could stop anyone from gathering any support, and even alerting the government about external threats to their stability.”

“Kān mén gǒu was pushed through over a course of six years and activated on April sixteenth, twenty fifty-seven.” Haas paused as the images were removed and replaced by pictures showing headlines from that date. Most of them were focused not on what China had done, but rather the death toll.

“Kān mén gǒu is the first known instance of artificial general intelligence. It had the capacity to adapt, learn, and in turn grow over the course of its duties. Armed with a quantum server farm, the only one on the planet at the time, it set about the task it had been given.”

Haas paused again, though no new images appeared. “That task was to safeguard China from all threats on the internet.” Haas pointed at one of the boys to his right. “What was their mistake in doing this?”

Suddenly thrust into the spotlight the undergraduate could only sit frozen in surprise. One of his friends next to him raised her hand, but wisely didn’t speak without permission.

“Anya,” Haas said, “would you kindly answer in place of Damien?”

The young blond smiled at him before answering, “They didn’t have a killswitch?”

Out of his twelve years teaching the course that was one of the main ideas presented. “No. They had a killswitch, otherwise known as turning the power off. The main flaw was that they didn’t put limits on the programmed entity. They conducted a couple of mock experiments, and when they turned out well they activated it.”

“Which would’ve been fine if not for the fact that Kān mén gǒu wasn’t a person, it was a machine. The problem of that is simple enough, it can not understand the value of one person over another.”

Haas motioned with his left hand, an action that prompted the appearance of a holographic globe. On it were thin yellow lines that ran across the entire planet. As the students watched the lines started to go dark.

“Kān mén gǒu knew exactly how to stop people from causing any problems. It targeted the power plants of the world and, via the poorly secured systems, brute forced its way in and turned every single one off. This took less than two hours.”

The globe slowly turned dark, and when every line was gone it vanished. “Kān mén gǒu used logic to dictate what it should do. If the internet could be a threat, then remove the internet. Nobody, foreign or domestic, could ever do anything to China via the internet if it didn’t exist.”

Damien raised his hand, and so Haas pointed at him. “Why didn’t China stop it from getting that far? Or any of the other nations?” Damien asked.

“For the external nations they’d guessed about its existence, and none had infrastructure capable of thwarting or stopping it. On top of that China had placed the server farm in an underground bunker.”

Haas waved all of the open news articles away with the swipe of one hand. “Kān mén gǒu had decided that access to it needed to be limited in order to ensure maximum efficiency. To that end it’d already hacked the security of the bunker and altered the codes. By the time China was able to get to the power generators and turn it off Kān mén gǒu had caused extensive damage to the world.”

A gentle chime sounded and Haas paused, glancing at his watch. “That will be all for today. Tomorrow we will cover the AGI arms race, and the impact it had on society.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Klein stood on the parapets of his castle and looked out over the main road that ran through central Ghandahar. Far below some of the people who’d joined him worked as they prepared for what he knew was an inevitable conflict.

The act of doing nothing, like he was at that moment, irked Klein. He wanted to get out and mess around in the game some more. He still hadn’t figured out the limits of what you could do with the NPCs, or if there were any hidden classes one could gain via that route.

A woman strutted along the length of the parapets toward him. Her outfit was provocative, barely covering any of her save for what might violate a censorship rule. Klein glanced at her while she walked, enjoying the sight of her as he had in the past.

“When’d you get back?” Ophelia asked as she leaned against him.

Klein tried his best to ignore the enticement of her body. “A couple hours ago. I recruited a few out west. Has anything happened?”

Ophelia seemed to lean even more into him. “Lorren sent an envoy. The game is trying to make a treaty with us to stop the killing.”

“Did Howlz eat them?” Klein asked with a laugh.

“Thankfully that moron wasn’t around, I had Nate deal with them. He went on and on about how we’ll talk to our leader and work out something.”

Klein turned and started to walk along the parapet, and over toward stairs that ran down to the courtyard. “Good. Where’s the nearest garrison?”

“Northwest, maybe seven miles. Small town of about a hundred.”

“Perhaps I’ll check it out with Howlz.”

“Sure,” Ophelia replied, her tone tinted with disgust.

As Klein started to walk down the stairs an explosion erupted out of the great hall attached to the courtyard. A single figure shrouded in a dark cloud and tendrils of smoke hurtled into view.

Players who were near the main gate turned and saw the figure approaching, but were slow to react. “Stop him!” Klein bellowed as he hurried down the rest of the stairs.

A few of the players snapped to action with that command and summoned their weapons. The figure hesitated in its approach to the gate, and instead angled their path off to the western wall.

Klein narrowed his eyes at that maneuver. “He’s gotta have some way over the wall,” he growled, and then turned to Ophelia, “can ya hit him from here?”

Ophelia rolled her eyes at the question. “I could hit a man on the far side of the moon, hun.”

Before Klein could retort she turned to face the retreating intruder. One finger went up to the top of her left breast and slowly traced down her body, while she leaned forward and blew a kiss with her other hand.

The reaction from the distant figure was instantaneous as they tripped over their own feet and hit the ground. The guild members surrounded the figure and brandished their weapons to keep the stranger pinned.

Klein descended the stairs and crossed the courtyard as quickly as he could. There was a limit to how long they could detain the unknown person, and he wanted some answers. Even before he’d reached the figure he motioned at Ophelia, who had followed him.

“Ya know what to do.”

Her reply was a guttural laugh, one that sent a shiver down Klein’s spine. When they reached the group everyone stepped out of the way, a few gazes lingering more on Ophelia than the intruder.

“Pick him up please,” Ophelia asked of the guild members.

The figure was lifted up and one of the guild members even yanked their hood down. Long vibrant green hair fell away from a gentle face. The intruder shook her head, her hair resettling in such a way that the elongated ears were easy to see.

The spy spat on the ground. “Do your worst!”

“Oh hun,” Ophelia said with another guttural laugh, “you’d only enjoy that. Now let’s see who you are, shall we?”

Ophelia reached out with one hand and gripped the woman’s chin, lifting her face up so she could stare directly into the intruder’s eyes. There was a moment of silence before Ophelia turned away from the woman.

“Kill her,” Ophelia told the guild members and looked to Klein, “her name is Priscilla. She’s a member of Serenity, with the class Ninja.”

Klein watched as his men started to murder the elf, and once he was certain they had it handled started to walk to the damaged hall. “So Serenity noticed us,” he commented, “I guess that means we might have a bit of fun soon.”

The smell of lavender haunted him as Ophelia shadowed his steps. “Want me to see if I can tease some info out of one of their members?”

“No.” Klein smiled darkly as he glanced at her. “I’d rather not spoil the surprise.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Barbus walked through the garden at an assured pace. He adjusted his suit and did another check for any dirt or wrinkles. He paid little attention to his surroundings, instead far more interested in his personal appearance than the nearby flowers and trees.

None of the nearby animals stirred at his passing. The butler had never touched them, nor would unless told to. For Barbus they were background noise more than anything else, an odd peculiarity that his lady kept.

The lady in question sat ahead of him on her favorite garden chair. The sun reflected off of her multi-colored hair, the ever changing hues of the strands granting an elusive rainbow effect. As always she was adorned in a dark blue tea gown.

The woman smiled when he walked into her field of view, the act seeming to illuminate the air around her. She waited quietly with both hands on her lap as Barbus approached.

“My lady,” Barbus said with a bow.

“Barbus, it is wonderful to see you again,” she said, her voice soft and filled with fatigue, “I am sorry for being away so long.”

“Your absence, as always, left a hole within the fabric of my reality. I feel the urge to apologize, however, for I bring you disquieting news.”

The woman sighed at his words, and even went so far as to rub her eyes. “I’ve been overseas for the last week and when I get back, this is what I must deal with? Speak, old friend, and tell me what you know.”

“It would appear that Gia has begun her own plans, which might violate your federal laws.”

“Which law?”

“I believe she is attempting to bypass class two medical equipment restrictions.”

His lady breathed in sharply, but didn’t respond for a while. Barbus waited in silence for her, and for the first time since arriving studied the nearby garden.

It was a wide and flat landscape dotted with numerous plants and animals. Barbus knew from personal experience that this was her testing field, one used in the early days of the game. None of the flowers would ever wilt nor would the trees shed their leaves.

A single temple of stone stood centermost on the island, the entry point that his lady utilized when connecting. From his spot in front of her he could only see the southern side of it, upon which vines grew unchecked.

“Barbus,” the woman said in order to regain his attention.

“Yes, my lady?”

“What do you think I should do?”

Barbus blinked and then lifted up his hands in protest. “My lady, I am your servant. I would not presume to tell you what to do!”

“If you are my servant then respond to my question properly,” she replied with a scowl.

Barbus flinched. “My apologies. I feel that Gia is acting like a child, doing what she wants without thought of who she might harm. Normally one would take the toys from the child, would they not?”

“Feel?” the lady asked, with a bit of a smile, but shook her head, “nevermind. I agree. I will leave it to you to decide which toys to take from her. Was that everything?”

“Pharos has opted out of working and vanished again.”

His lady stood up from her seat, a moment of anger flashing on her face. She started to speak, but then decided not to for some reason and instead turned away. “Barbus.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“How long do we have before the next meeting?”

“I believe it is in ninety-four days, at Wainwright Hall.”

The woman turned around, worriedly biting at the tip of her thumb. “We’re going to need help.”

Barbus nodded his head. “I would concur. Given that it took you almost a year the last time to find Pharos.”

“In-game, yes,” the woman murmured, and then looked sharply at Barbus, “do you have any ideas on this matter?”

Barbus smiled as he bowed once more. “Of course, Lady Gaia, I do have one.”