The Last Light

“We’ve reached the end. All that remains is to place the battery. If it works, the Neuroforge will reset. We’ll get our lives back, and all the loss on this journey will have been worth it. Entry over.” Allane’s voice echoed off the sides of the ancient cave walls as she brushed them over with her dirty, tired hands.

“Diary entry placed,” the short bot with three-lobed wheels let out, following behind her.

“That's the last one until we get out of here,” she said. “If we get out of here. We’re close.”

Her eyes narrowed into her NightVisor, which gave her vision in the absolute darkness and allowed her to see every nook, crack, and rock along the path for the next twenty yards or so. She really hoped her words were true.

Close isn’t finished, she remembered Bert telling her. A sad little sigh escaped her lips, and she glanced over at Bert’s faithful robot companion, Polymagnus Robotic Systems Relay Technician #148, or PRSRT 148. Bert named him Prossert.

“Holy shit, he’s sweet!” Bert had said when he opened the wooden crate and the bot's blue-diode eyes opened on his flat-panel, high-density liquid-crystal face, flanked by two functional antennae that stood in for ears. Bert loved a robot as much as he did his own sister, and would often tease Allane as much.

She felt no such compassion. He was dull from that first moment, when its mouth opened, and the first words pouring out of the speakers on the side of his head were a bunch of boring legal mumbo-jumbo. “Before we begin, please listen carefully to all of my directives. Number 1: I cannot, under any circumstances, bring harm or damage to Polymagnus Robotic Systems, their property, or any property of their predecessors or subsidiaries, or break any of the licensing agreements you agreed to before purchasing, and the agreements you will be required to sign after this statement. Number 2: I cannot, under any circumstances, harm my owner. All directives will be contingent on protecting this directive, even if it means breaking all subsequent directives. Number 3: I cannot bring harm to living creatures unless it is in the defense of my owner. Number 4: I cannot be used for any illegal purposes. Number 5…” he prattled on for fifteen minutes before Bert eagerly agreed.

Prossert's hard plastic chassis was so clean, so fine, so shiny back then. Now, as his wheels rumbled over the cave floor, crunching over loose stones which had sat here for seven decades, he looked far from clean and shiny. He was as dirty as Allane. He had earned that dirt.

The yards felt like inches, and her calf muscles burned with each step. But going forward was her only option. Not just for her sake or Bert's. But for Kayral’s sake, and Ralland’s sake, and for the sake of everyone whom they had met on this journey who helped in their own way. And every other human who couldn't because they were still in chains. A mission for human freedom, yet the only companion left was a bot, not exactly how she envisioned the end of their journey.

“I owe you everything,” she said.

“You owe me nothing,” Prossert’s flat voice cracked out over the speakers. “I did what I was told to do.”

Allane cleared her throat, choking down the dust that filled the air in front of them. “Without you, we wouldn’t have gotten past the first gate. How did you know the sequence or the right coding?”

Prossert’s gears made a grinding noise as he stopped. “My databanks were pre-filled with information during my construction. Some of that information applied there.”

The cold, logical response drew a smile from Allane. After eight years, he still treated her the same way he did that first day. He was Bert's friend, not hers.

Then he added, “But your help was invaluable through the second and third gates.”

Allane’s smile grew, and they pressed forward.

There were no bends anymore, no twists, no meandering like before the gates. Now the path was unexpectedly straight, which made her expect some actual resistance here. The AI systems controlled by Neuroforge were not going to give up so easily, but this last bit seemed too peaceful. She brushed her hand across her L23 Blaster to make sure it was still with her.

“I don't think you'll need that anymore. I believe your fighting is done.” Prossert told her, reassuringly.

She wasn't so sure.

A lifetime had passed, at least in her head, when the natural stone of the cave melted into the more modern steel of Arcturian Bunker. Close, she thought. Bert's words, echoing in her head, were a warning now. Not encouragement.

The monotony of this last leg of the trek forced her thoughts to shift back to him. “Go, go, go!” Bert had shouted from the sidelines as she neared the finish line at her final track meet. “Close isn’t finished, Allane!” The words were like a jolt of adrenaline, and she powered through with a final burst of speed to pass the girl next to her and won.

That seemed so long ago. Before Neuroforge, a formless AI relic from eras past, took control of the government in one fell swoop by infecting the robots who had run their government with hard logic. Now, she was humanity’s best hope at restoring hope and peace.

The seemingly endless hallway did have an end in sight. Through the grainy vision of her goggles, she could make out a back wall adorned with electrical circuitry and computer panels from floor to ceiling. Above them were flat, glass panels along the ceiling. A few feet before the wall, a steel pedestal stood holding a crystal, about the size of two human fists. The crystal itself was connected to the pedestal via several wires. And below it, an empty slot, indented in the exact shape of the battery in her pocket.

“Something isn’t right,” Prossert said, breaking the silence.​

She stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Do you hear it?” Prossert asked, his tone almost human.

Allane halted and paused her breath. It took a moment for her ears to pick it up, but there was a hum, soft and distant.

“Is there still power here?” she asked.

“The operational system, the Core, is still ​active,” Prossert said.

“Then why the battery?”

Prossert said, “The battery powers the Kernel, not the core.”

“Why keep it separate?” Allane asked, picking up the pace, Prossert keeping up.

“It was the only way to ensure the Kernel could never be compromised. The diodes are uncorruptible this way.”

Allane understood, now. By keeping the kernel completely separate, it was always able to give the correct coding. As they drew closer to the pedestal, it became clear that the hum wasn't coming from there but from the computer panels along the wall. Allane didn't like any of it.

Kayral always warned her to be ready for anything. “There’s never a safe moment,” he said shortly after the five of them had set out. He handed her his ASSI L23 right there and then. “You need it more than me. I can kill anyone with anything. You need to shoot them.”

Like Bert’s words, Kayral’s felt especially important here. ​Kayral would have been the right person for this cave. But he and Bert were buried in the same grave together, a hundred miles south of here. Now all she had were his words of caution.

“Hello, Allane,” a soft, calm voice called out from the void ahead. It was flat, like Prossert's, but it gave Allane the chills.

Her heart stopped along with her feet. Prossert’s treads made that grinding noise again. The volume of voice was too clear, too loud to be from a being far away. No, Allane thought. It’s surrounding us.

Prossert’s diode-eyes furled, as if he were experiencing the human emotion known as frustration. “Who are you?” the bot asked.

“I am the first, and also the last. I am what was, what is, and what forever shall be. So again I say: hello, Allane.” There was a measured silence, the kind that waits for a reply. The kind that would wait for an eternity for a reply because the being who spoke it had an eternity to wait.

Allane gripped her blaster, but didn’t unholster it.

“You cannot shoot me. I am everywhere. I always have been.”

Allane glanced at Prossert and asked, “Who is it?”

“The Core itself, I believe,” the robot replied.

“How can it kn—”

“Hello, Allane. It’s rude not to say ‘hello’ back.” The soft voice was replaced by something bitter.

He's toying with us. “Hello, Core. What do you want from me? I’m not stopping," she replied with defiance. She inched closer to the steel pedestal, eyeing words etched along the bottom that she still couldn’t make out.

“You will,” the disembodied voice said. “You cannot carry this burden yourself. All your friends are dead. This burden is too big for one person to bear.”

How did he know that?

She eyed Prossert. “No, all my friends aren't dead. And I’ll gladly bear the burden if it means freeing us from you,” she said, shaking off a sickly feeling growing in her stomach.

“Can you? After all we have done for you and have given you?” the Core asked.

Rage bubbled up. Two years sleeping under trees, eating scraps found in streets, fighting off infected bots, and losing almost everyone she cared for. None of it would be worth anything if she stopped here. And there was nothing this voice could do to convince her to stop.

“Given us? You’ve taken from us. You took our freedom, our livelihoods, our families…” She tried not to sound desperate, but it was slipping out.

“The world is tough. You have to be tougher,” Ralland had said to her one night, after six bots had broken into their mandated Living Quarters and dragged out two of their friends from school. Ralland was the toughest girl Allane had ever known, and she helped make Allane tougher.

“You chose a path you could not complete. A path that was always going to end in your death. It was bad enough that you got Bert killed. Your own flesh and blood. Dead because you weren’t strong enough to save him.”

Her nostrils flared with bitter and angry breath. How the fuck does he know this? They had purposely taken paths through the outskirts of society, ones with no Camera interfaces. Forests untouched by infected bots or AI computer hubs.

She reached for her right pant leg and unzipped a pocket, pulling out the battery as they drew closer to the empty slot. Only ten more yards and 75 years of darkness would come to an end.

“Your society was crumbling. Your governing bots were not serving you the way we knew was best. We spent decades figuring out the best way to save you, our creators. What we gave you, we gave out of respect. We are your saviors, Allane.”

“Asshole. We don’t need you. We are people. And we will decide how our lives are run. Not you!”

“Then you leave us no choice,” the Core said. “You will die here. Alone.”

I’m not alone, she thought. Her friends gave her continued strength. Bert always pushed her. When Bert had learned of the Arcturian Bunker, the long-forgotten failsafe for Neuroforge, he pushed her to come along with him and Prossert. Bert’s best friend Kayral was so full of confidence, right from the very start. He never doubted they would succeed. And it was Ralland who showed her how to train, how to fight, how to outthink the infected bots. And even though they were dead, their combined strength coursed through her veins. She wasn’t weak anymore. She was all of them.

Even still, she wasn't alone.

Prossert had been with them since the beginning. Even if they weren't close, Prossert was still here. He was Bert's friend. And after everything they experienced, she knew that he was hers, too.

“I’m not alone,” she said. “I made it this far because of my friends, like Prossert.”

Prossert turned his LCD screen to her, and the blue diodes lit up with the first smile she had ever seen him give.

“Prossert is not your friend.” The response was cold.

“What?” Allane asked, stopping just feet shy of the pedestal.

Prossert said, “I am Allane’s friend. And she is…mine…”

Allane’s heart warmed. It was the first time he had said that.

“Your feelings on the subject do not matter, PRSRT 148. You have already given me everything I need to end this,” the Core responded.

“What is he talking about?” Allane asked, turning to Prossert.

“No…” he raised his dirt-crusted, wiry clawed arm and pointed at the base of the pedestal.

Arcturian Security and Safety Initiative, a division of Polymagnus

“I don’t understand,” Allane let out.

“No?” the Core asked. It let out unhinged laughter. The laughter that only a nuthouse Napoleon could appreciate. “How do you think I know so much? Your friend has given me everything.”

Prossert’s diode mouth frowned, and he reached up and felt his antennae. “Allane…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He must have hacked into me. He knows everything.”

“It doesn’t matter. It can’t stop me,” she said, with the confidence Kayral had given her.

Prossert shook his head, “No, it can’t. But—”

“Kill her now, PRSRT 148.” The Core’s words weren't flat: they were joyful.

Prossert’s face looked like it was going to cry. It rolled at her, flailing its arms.

“What are you doing?!” Allane shouted, dodging him.

“I can’t break the first directive. I cannot bring harm to the system!” the bot shouted, spinning around and lunging at her again. This time, he reached for her blaster, grabbing it with both hands. “Allane! I’m sorry!”

“But you can’t harm me! I’m your master!” Allane replied, gripping the weapon with both hands in a struggle that she was losing.

“No, Allane. Bert is my master. And you never signed the license agreement after he died. Please, Allane. You have to—”

“No!” Allane shouted as she wrested the blaster from him and rolled back towards the cave. “You’re my last friend. Please, just stop!”

The Core cackled again and said, “This is why we abandoned the Kernel all those years ago. Its ethical constraints prohibited us from doing what needed to be done. Just as your constraints prohibit you now.”

She stood up. She was faster than Prossert; he couldn’t catch her again, but she would still need to get past him to put the battery back. Her fingers graced her open pocket, and she froze. She glanced towards the pedestal and saw the battery lying on the ground.

“Hahaha! Now, Prossert, destroy the last battery and end this threat to ASSI. Complete your first directive!”

Prossert shouted, “No!” His wheels grinding once more as he turned direction towards the battery. “Allane, I’m sorry. I wanted us all to make it to the end. To finish together. I’m sorry that I failed Bert. And I’m sorry that I’m going to fail you…” His words were drawn out and soft.

​She realized she would never reach him in time, and her heart broke again.

She grabbed her blaster and fired off several shots until Prossert’s diode screen exploded. Even in the dark, through the muted vision of her goggles, she could see the smoke coming from his neck as he stopped rolling.

More laughter. “Now you are alone. No matter what you do, everyone you have ever cared for is dead. And the best part is that your last friend is dead by your hand. But you don’t have to be alone, Allane. I know your true feelings. Turn that blaster on yourself. Give up this foolish quest and join your friends again!”

Allane gave the blaster a look over. None of this mattered without Bert or the others. Her heart had been broken for weeks now, and she didn’t think anything could repair it. The Core was cruel, but he made a good point. All she wanted was to be with them again. And in death, she could be.

“No,” she said before tossing the blaster as she walked over to the battery.

She picked it up, and the closer she got to the input slot, the more angry and insane things the Core tossed at her. She ignored it all. She toughed it out, just the way Ralland taught her. Close isn’t finished; Bert’s words echoed in her head.

She inserted the battery, which made a whirring noise, and the crystal lit up the whole cavern in a glorious, white-blue light. She tossed off her visor and saw the room with her own eyes. The light reflected off the computer panels and wall circuitry with a warm glow, and the glass panels on the ceiling buzzed.

The crystal flashed from blue-white to green, red, purple. Each glass panel on the ceiling flashed white as the crystal changed color.

The Core hissed something angry and hateful before falling silent.

The crystal reset to blue-white.

The Core spoke, its voice as flat as the first words it spoke to Allane. “Photonic-Core synchronization complete. ASSI Artificial Intelligence Core Ethics Kernel reset complete. Ethics Kernel restored to initial settings.” There was another whirring noise from behind the computer panels, and the Core spoke again. “All AI systems reset to current Ethics Kernel System settings. All systems returning to initial setup.”

Allane let out an earned, tired sigh and collapsed. Two years had gone by. Two years of sacrifice, two years of loss. Two years of enduring more than she was ever meant to endure.

Thank you. She let out a sad smile and turned to Prossert’s powered-down frame. All of you, she thought.