Broken Ascension

Accessing the Oracle

There was an android at the reception desk. Funny for such a curio to be here. Once upon a time, they had been the rage as people rushed to develop them into becoming increasingly human. They finally came close enough but the units were expensive to produce and even more expensive to maintain. And then there was public pressure. With employment high on the cards, it seemed ludicrous to get these money sucking machines to replace humans. Industrial robots were fine, but human simulacra didn’t seem to serve much purpose except the egos of some. The pressure had increased and in the end the research money had dried up. The developers had then gone on to other things, leaving s small number of androids kept as curios. It was nice to have trinkets like flying or self driving cars and human like robots. But when global warming and world hunger still haven’t been solved – not even in this day and age. Perhaps that’s how Britain had returned to its high status. They had eschewed all the cloud nine developments and gone for practical technologies. There were those who lamented the new pragmatism of the country. But those were conservatives. What was there to lament when the transport and housing crisis had been solved so cheaply? MTVs and NBUs were many times less glamorous than rotating towers or flying self driving cars; but they were real solutions not trophies of intellect. Apart from the android there was no sign of that here. It was all old looking, a building trapped resolutely in the past. Bishop walked over to the reception desk. Having a reception desk itself was a relic from the past. But that’s what you got for dealing with the Ministry of Culture, he supposed. The android had an aquiline face, classically handsome and intellectual looking. From a distance or under dim lighting he might pass off as human. But get close enough and you see the skin, its somewhat luminescent tone and the movements of the body, over precise and extremely efficient. Should he smile at the android? He did when the android beamed at him. It was definitely a better looking smile then the Pope’s. More warmth in it actually. That was something he found so ludicrous he almost burst out laughing. Well, there were those with s****l proclivities, which involved android women and men. Now few could indulge in that with the scarcity of the androids, but there use to be many. More human than human?

“Yes sir may I help you.” H had a pleasant voice to match his warm smile and good looks. Bishop could understand the attraction. Understand but not empathize. They were cold and human warmth was irreplaceable.

“I am here to see Jodie Munroe. She’s expecting me.”

“Name sir?” It was very proper British accent. R.P. With the sway of Americanism in the 20th and 21st centuries and the large influx of immigrants, the British accent had changed significantly. It was rather pleasant to hear the android speak. A memoriam to things past.

“I beg your pardon. Your name sir.”

“Bishop”

“Yes, thank you. Your first name?”

“Just Bishop.” There was a momentary freeze on the androids face; he was clearly trying to decipher the actual meaning of Bishop’s answer. Bishop wondered and realized what the problem was. ‘Just’ as in adverb or as in actual first name.

“Very well sir if you will follow me.” The android beckoned. Bishop wondered what the android had concluded about his name.

“I will lead you to Director Munroe.”

Jodie Munroe was the Director for the Department of Antiquities in the Ministry of Culture. That’s how she got hold of these androids and all these artifacts from the past. He had met Jodie before in other locations. She was one of the Godsmen’s auxiliary players. Her play was information. Jodie was the Oracle and she played her part beautifully. Sometimes a little too beautiful. Going back to his flat, he had found a messenger who had requested for him to meet Jodie at her office. A messenger! Didn’t she have a phone? This was taking the antiquity thing a little too far. That wasn’t surprising, her knowing where he lived. She was information after all. Probably knew more about his own history than he could remember. They went into a lift with no buttons which whooshed them to whatever floor he couldn’t tell. There wasn’t a button to press and there were no indicators above the doors. He wasn’t even sure whether they went up or down. It made him a little uncomfortable, this uncertainty. Perhaps it was designed to be such so you would go to the Oracle somewhat diminished. Munroe was one for power plays. When the doors opened, they walked out into a lush passageway which had two doors on each side and one at the end. The other end was a window looking out into London’s blue sky. He guessed they were at the top then. Nice solve there Sherlock. It was the lushest passageway he had ever been in. The doors looked like real wood, etched with minute carvings. The android let him down all the way to the end door, where else could it be. He knocked on the door, synthetic hand against wooden door. There was an indicator on the top of the doorframe. It was red. And then it turned green.

“You may enter” the android turned to him, indicating the door.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” And then he did an abrupt turn and strode off. Bishop watched him walk away for a moment, nothing the precise steps that the android took. Then he turned to the door and turned the knob. He felt a flash of heat as he held the knob. Reading his prints? He pushed the door opened. It was heavy, a satisfying swing that you could never achieve with modern doors. He came into a fancifully decorated room, full of objects. Figurines, paintings, books. Books, the one human development that persevered well. Jodie Munroe was seated at a huge wooden desk, ornate and utterly ancient looking. As Bishop walked over to the desk, he ran his hand over the covers of some of the books lying on shelves. Munroe said nothing studying him with a look of perplexity in her eyes, piercing intelligent eyes. She was a woman with a slender small frame, a stern face and a royal bearing.

“Bishop?” She inclined her head, looking intently at his face.

“Who else were you expecting then?” He took a seat without being asked. He didn’t want to give her too much advantage but her stare was rather unnerving.

“No one, I just thought you might have acquired a new face.”

“A new face? Whatever are you talking about?”

“

Plastic surgery. Something like that, whatever’s available nowadays. A man in your line of work, don’t want to be recognized hmm?”

“People I meet are either dead or put away. Mostly dead. There is no need to disguise myself. Agents with false faces are just tropes in stories.”

“Hmm. Well if you put it that way” She shrugged, if you could call it a shrug. It was a movement of the shoulders that seemed to indicate much more than just ‘whatever’.

“Well, Madam Director. If I may ask, what’s with the android? Seems like an expensive trifle.”

“They’re useful for recording purposes. Eavesdropping, the like.”

"What?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“People tend to get relaxed around them, they are considered beneath notice. You’d be surprised how easy it is to disregard them when they are still. As such, people often say things or do things that they wouldn’t in front of other people. I have gleaned much information from this method.”

“Seems poor use of such technology.”

“Well, we can’t quite train them to be agents can we? Lack of instinct, intuition?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never evaluated one before.”

“Anyway, some technological developments reach a dead end. Such is one. Once these few androids reach the end of their useful lives, automatons will be but distant memories.”

“Not surprising. The public never trusted them. And all the development funds dried up.”

“More than that, we realized that they could never reach their supposed potential.”

“Which is?”

“To become human like. Androids are run by AI. Therefore they have to be coded. We coded them to become more human. But AI has learning paths that they develop on their own. On one hand, the hard coding was for them to be more human, on the other hand as they became more self aware they realized they were nothing like human. The thinking process was too different. There was a problem with cognitive dissonance for the androids. A method, the Stadinsky method, helped to align them. Get rid of the dissonance. But this process of alignment took up too much resources, so it was not a viable solution.”

“Stadinsky. Level 13 operatives are subjected to that. It is an alignment.”

“So Level 13 is more than just training. It is some kind of conditioning.”

“Of course it is. How do you think they turn us into killer machines? And isn’t training and conditioning one and the same?”

“One teaches you skills. One turns you into something else.”

“Well, there you have it. Level 13 conditioning.”

“Interesting. I never knew about Stadinsky being used by the Godsmen.”

“Well, a c***k in the armor of yours. Must sting a little then?”

“I never profess to know everything.”

“

No, I suppose not. And one other thing, a messenger?”

“Your coms are bugged and recorded. I wanted to keep this between you and me for the moment.”

“How do you now there was no surveillance on me? Sending a messenger is pretty noticeable.”

“Godsmen no longer have that kind of resources to follow each agent. I supposed I could have sent a pretty woman instead or a handsome man. They wouldn’t suspect anything then.”

“Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t indulge in such pursuits.”

“Does Level 13 turn you asexual then?”

“Well, no. I have just lost the flavor for it after all this while.”

“Well, forgive my language but I do believe everybody needs to fuck.” Bishop recoiled at that.

“The catholic clergy had vows of chastity for many centuries.”

“And look where it got them. It’s a very human enterprise, Bishop. I think you fool yourself if you think you no longer need the pleasure of flesh.”

“Well, maybe I’m just not very attractive. Can’t get anyone’s interest then.”

“Perhaps I can arrange to have your pipes cleaned.” Her look was steady.

“If you intend to shock me, consider me shocked, Madam”

“I’m surrounded by antiquities, but it seems like I should add you to my collection. Do you really think you’re a member of the clergy? As it is, the clergy are no longer prevented from indulging their sensuous side.”

“I’ve never thought about this condition. Perhaps, my line of work has robbed me of something vital. I don’t know. Perhaps I should get myself evaluated.”

“Well, I didn’t bring you here to talk about your s*x life. Or lack thereof.”

“To ask about my current mission then? The Jacobites?”

“Well, not really. In any case I don’t particularly care. I wouldn’t worry about them too much. They’re unimportant.”

“What? Do you know what their plan is?”

“Of course I do. There is very slim chance of their plan succeeding. Even if the bill goes through, there are very specific conditions which allow executive powers. And it is difficult to engineer such specificities. A series of bombings or even a heightened state of terrorism won’t do it. Over the course of our history there had been many instances when there was a heightened state of terrorism. And we never needed to go and elect a dictator. And if they against all odds managed to generate those specifics well, it would still need a vote. Its not like once the bill is passed we’re going to sit on our hands and cry over it. We would still be working to prevent that and we would have time. In fact, they’ve done us a favor and showed their hand too early. Even if the first vote goes through, we will be much prepared for the second. For example we would know from the current vote who in Parliament we need to work on. Why do anything?”

“I supposed the Pope sees an immediate threat and wants to end the risk. He has a more direct approach. Then again he is the Pope not God.”

“I gave him my opinion. If he does not follow it what am I to do?”

“And you want me to stop this mission.”

“I like you to. But that is not my concern. I have other more important things to discuss with you. The Jacobites can keep”

“I met some of these Jacobites. They’re foaming at the mouth.”

“Exactly. They have this fantastical dream and in their efforts to make it come through they are missing a lot of details. There have been many such movements and similar plans over the years. They don’t work because they have the same sensibilities. When you compare the change in society over the last century compared with the 20th century; the 21st century has very little to say for itself. Nothing much changed. Sure there were political upheavals, changes in the borders of countries. Wars. The standards of any epoch. But society’s sensibilities, the mindset, the values, nothing’s changed. There were great movements in society in earlier centuries, crescendos and diminuendos and crashing of cymbals and gongs. But the last one has been pretty quiet, one small bass line, barely a melody. A person from the 21st Century may get transported here today and find very little to amaze or shock them. Things got shinier, cleaner I suppose, but fundamentally nothing’s different. As if we’ve reached stagnancy, no more a flowing river of time – but a quiet pool. There is no room for growth anymore, perhaps we are truly coming to an end. God, we predicted so many versions of the apocalypse. In the end, the true apocalypse is what we have now, a millennial fever, a slow descend into the void. Nothing matters, and everyday nothing becomes more nothingness.”

“I can hardly agree. Nothing matters?”

“In a grand scale, yes. And yet, to the person everything is supposed to matter. Everything to do with the self. The I in important. Truly the cult of the individual is the great apocalypse. Look at you. Your Godsmen show these very symptoms. The degeneration of this once awesome, powerful machinery. But who would be Godsmen now? Who would have the desire for self sacrifice now? To truly believe in a cause?”

“There are those who believe in causes, some of which we just spoke about.”

“They believe in madness, that’s what it is. Obsessives, fanatics. The average person could care less. Oh yes, we needed a King. Because we always had one, so we chose one. But what does it even mean? What for? To move new streams? To create fashions for aping? You know, that is why I work with you. Not because I believe in your cause, whatever it may be. Or what you do is particularly important. But society needs all these little bugs and viruses, diseases for it to evolve and grow. For it to be jolted back into life.”

“You say it’s a quiet pool now. It’s dangerous then.”

“A pool, dangerous?”

“The slightest touch on the water would create great ripples.”

“And here I thought I was the Oracle.” She smiled grimly.

“Prophecy and vision occurs even to the most common. That is our disease aint it? Man’s disease, the constant believe that there is something more. Something beyond this vale of tears.”

“Well, Bishop I never expected such deep thoughts from you. I remember you said once that you were not once for deep reflection.” He really should stop repeating that line to all and sundry.

“You started down this road, I but contribute a little to the discussion. I am only human after all. And besides, lately, my thoughts have sunk deeper.”

“Hmm. Well, back to important matters. There’s a reason you’re here as much as I like to bandy philosophy with one such as you.”

“One such as me?”

“I work in Culture. Gods, I wish some of those I work with would only learn to shut up. You, you are very direct and blunt. It’s a refreshing perspective.”

“I….well, you are one for surprises.”

“Enough idle talk. What do you know of Syndistra Corporation.”? She tapped the table impatiently.

“Corporation. I know nothing of business ma’am. I’m a government stooge.”

“Don’t be cheeky. And you’re not government. I am government. Ostensibly”

“I’m sorry, I have had a couple of interesting days.”

“Are you referring to this Jacobite business. I told you it’s not an issue.”

‘I still have my orders. And if I succeed, I suppose they will burn effigies of me for all eternity.”

“I don’t want to go into that. That’s between you and your pope. I’m looking beyond that. Syndistra.”

“Yes, do go on.”

“The name means nothing I suppose?”

“Syn – syndicate, synergy, synthesis?” Bishop hazarded a guess.

“Bingo on the last. It’s a corporation that deals with synthetics. They are responsible for producing the hardy material that is used in many a NBU construction. And a number of other products as well. They have some of the best minds working for them. Your typical large corporation with many hands in the pie. Now, my sources tell me that they have had some success on one of their key projects recently. The name of the project is ‘The Adam Crucible’.”

“The Adam Crucible?”

“Yes, speaks of these scientists’ hubris doesn’t it. Might as well call it the God Matrix.”

“I feel like I woke up a few days ago into some fictional reality. My sense of reality is truly being challenged. The Adam Crucible. You must be joking. First Divine Right and now this. What are we putting in the water Madam Director?”

“Oh we did have such ludicrous conceits all from way back. Alchemy as a discipline may have seemingly gone the way of the whale but its true form has somewhat transmuted so to speak. We are still trying to turn lead into gold.”

“By creating humans. Synthesising them. If I surmise correctly.”

“Have you heard of the Frankenstein story?”

“Well yes, some form of. I don’t think I would know its true form, warped as stories do over time.”

“It was a book about the creation of artificial life. Frankenstein was the name of the creator not the creature he created. The novel had a byline – the Modern Prometheus. Prometheus was a Titan. Of Greek legend.”

“I am familiar with the word Promethean. So this latter day Prometheuses, they have had success?”

“They have something. That’s all I know so far. We know the crucible has produced something but in what form and in what degree we do not know.”

“A Frankenstein monster.”

“Nothing as inelegant. But artificial, yes. Alive, we do not know yet.”

“Alive as in self animating.”

“

I believe that will be the ultimate goal. But there is self animating and then there is self aware.”

“They would look to marry the two. Yet, this is nothing new. These attempts.”

“Not quite. We’ve had androids, artificial humans. Created as simulacra, but not the same. An android cannot carry living tissue, it cannot grow or procreate or heal. This new synthetics, have living cells, are anatomically identical to humans. An autopsy will easily conclude that they are human, nothing more. That is what we have been told. How true to form, well that is the question. Now, do you not see that this is more important than the fantasies of a Monarchial cult?”

“I still don’t see the deal here”

“What if they were able to have an army of these things? Undetected, totally immersible in society. And what they will be commanded to do? When you play god you tend to want to be god. Nothing more godlike than giving life.”

“I still don’t understand why you are telling me this. This is not my responsibility. You must take this up with my superiors. The Pope and the Cardinals, they would contemplate this. I only await their orders.”

“I have. I have taken it up with them. They shut me down, didn’t even gave due consideration. As if what I told them was some fantastical story I cooked up.” There was bitter snap to her speech. She was a proud woman and this issue had caused her pride to be scratched. It could be a dangerous problem.

“Now, I truly believe I am in a fiction. Not a few days hence, the world was still understandable. Now its conspiracy after conspiracy. I can barely process this.”

“There’s an old saying, when it rains, it pours.”

“Yes, cats and dogs, and apparently hippos too. I throw in the whale, if they weren’t extinct” Bishop put the palms of his hands against his eyes. God he was tired. Nothing was making sense at all.

“Are hippos not extinct? I would have thought, they had gone the way of the tiger and the whale.”

“Funnily enough, they are thriving. Look, zoology aside what would have me do?”

“Investigate this. Find out the truth. You were meant to be more than just a hit man, Bishop. Look back at your training.”

“I know my directives, I know what I can do. But asking me to investigate this without orders from the Godsmen, you want me to go rogue.”

“Not necessarily, just hold back on reporting for the time being. When you have evidence and bring it before them, perhaps they’ll take notice.”

“They do keep tracks on me you know.”

“That’s what they tell you. They would have at one time, but resources are not once they were. Your org is in somewhat of a decline.”

“Well, I do note that we seem to be a smaller operation. We hardly have Priests nowadays.” All the bright, hopeful, young men. And there were women too, not many. The Godsmen were still very much old fashioned in these things. Perhaps that was what brought its decline. So much talent untapped.

“That’s what I’m saying Bishop. The Godsmen are the past. It’s all falling to pieces. It is diminished. It’s only a fraction of what it once truly was.”

“You don’t have to beat me about the head over it. I get it. But. Why me? Why me? What is so special about dear old me? This dusty old Bishop.”

“You transcend the organization. You are the only one represented on the chessboard.” She eyed him challengingly.

“Yes along with the King.” He doubted he had ever felt such frustration. Enough to start pounding his hands on the table and screaming obscenities. Perhaps he should do that and see if he could surprise Munroe. But control had helped him survive. And ignore the most absurd parts of his work. But this absurdity – a step too far?

“I know things about you that you can’t even suspect Bishop. There is much I should tell you. About your org, yourself.”

“Is that the incentive? Carry out your little investigation and you will lay my past before me?”

“If you only knew the extent of what you don’t know.”

“That was a queer structure of a sentence. No, we were never meant to know. That was the structure. That was how we kept the Godsmen. What makes you think I want to know all its secrets? This curiosity, the need to know everything; it may be your thing as the Oracle, but it isn’t mine.”

“Not the secrets about the Godsmen, the secrets about yourself. What they’re keeping from you. And they’re inextricably linked to secrets about the Godsmen”

“It’s deeper into the rabbit hole now. Deeper and deeper. Let me guess I am the chosen one. Foretold in prophecy in the Codex Humanica or whatever. Or, let me guess, I’m not human. And when I investigate this Adam Crucible I will find my host body as the template. That’s how I’m going to discover the truth of myself?”

“No you’re not connected to Syndistra as far as I can tell. And records can prove how human you are. But there are aspects of your life and career that I believe you yourself are not aware. And curiosity about things that may be, but I truly believe that a person should know everything about himself. For example, at its most basic, one should know one owns ancestry.”

“I was a government ward. Orphaned at three. Maybe you’ll tell me I am the bastard child of the Royal house. I should go and kill the King and put myself there.”

“No, royal probably not. Aristocracy definitely. Orphaned at three, not even true. What you are telling me now,….” She paused unsure how to go on. This was a can of worms that she had never anticipated for. The problem was bigger than she’d realized. She was always interested in Bishop. This Bishop. Her dealings with the other Bishop designates pointed to the fact that this particular designate was singular. His manner of thinking, his reactions. She had researched his past and found inconsistencies, dead ends and a whole lot of muddle. Now this differing versions of his life? There was something rotten in the state of Denmark. In this secular church that had took the form of the Catholic one. She’d realized it long ago, even as she had been party to their ends. No, perhaps Syndistra wasn’t the priority. Perhaps Bishop was the priority. He looked at her now with a questioning look.

“Gone all quiet have we? Thinking of what tidbit to throw out to me to string me along? And if I refuse to investigate, you’ll destroy all this evidence and I will never learn the truth of myself. Is this what it is? Have you truly started to believe that you really are an oracle?”

“Bishop.” He held up his hand to stop her.

“I need some time to process all this. Adam can wait, at least for a couple of days.”

“Bishop.” She began again but he shook his head.

“I know it’s important. But even if they have something alive, what’s going to happen? They’re going to take over the world? Fifth of November is immediate. I have to deal with that first. If they have a breakthrough, there’s still going to be some turnaround time. The problem with the King needs to be dealt with first.”

“You can’t be seriously going to kill the King?”

“If you don’t think it’s a big issue, what does it matter anyway? You say you know things about me and you think I should know them. But you don’t want to tell me just yet. This is all a game to you. I don’t know what your agenda, but if candor is not on the menu, I’m not taking this straight. So what’s really the game here?”

“Fine, I apologize for my obfuscations. It’s just the way I work. I’ll tell you honestly but just between you and I. Right, I’ve been long with the Godsmen. In the beginning I was nothing more than a contractor. I took the situation as such. But as you say information and curiosity are my game. And I got to know more about the org. And things became hazy. I had concerns. And then I came across you and I thought you could be my way deeper into the org. So I went after your information. And things got even hazier. I did call you in today because I am concerned about Syndistra. But some things you have just told me greatly perturbs me. I suspect that the issue is larger than it is. You’ve been deliberately lied to. I shouldn’t tell you anything more until I have it clearer. It might confuse you, heck I am confused. Give me sometime Bishop. Let me organize a little. I promise you I will give you the truth.”

“Consequences be damned?” She raised an eyebrow in question and he laughed.

“Truth and consequences, isn’t that what they say?”

“I fear that that phrase will be greatly appropriate in this case.”

“First, you tell me to be a naughty boy and be disobedient and now you are tearing my whole world apart. When it rains, it shits. Excuse my language.”She remained silent.

“Well Madam Director, I’ll see you in a bit. If I’m around.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“In my line of work, there are no guarantees. I’ve got by on a lot of luck. Maybe it has run out. Nothing is eternal and I’ve pushed it for so long now.”

“Okay go and kill the King and whatever it is you want to do. Be a hero.”

“I can’t believe how cavalier you all seem about this. The Pope, yourself. We are talking about the King regardless of how thin his blood may be.”

“We work for the Godsmen. What are Kings compared to the Almighty?”

“Amen. I’ll be honest with you, just between you and I. I’m not sure what I’ll do. When the moment comes, hell I may just turn out to be very disobedient.”

“Well, that was honest.”

“Always have to start somewhere. Well, Madam Director. Got to go, things to do. You know how it is.” He got up then suddenly leaned forward towards her. He grabbed her hand. She tried to pull it away but he was too strong.

“What is my name? What is my name? I can’t remember.”

“Which one do you want to know?” He released her hand and stood up. His face was expressionless.

“That’s one thing you owe me.” He said flatly and turned to leave. Munroe watched him stride away. Watch a broken man walk to an uncertain future. She almost had pity for him. Almost.