THE LAST ARK

CHAPTER 41: WHAT ARE THE ODDS

Ben Gurion Airport Private Hangers, Tel Aviv One Day Before Temple Ceremony

Bertrand Russell once said, I do not pretend to be able to prove that there is no God. I equally cannot prove that Satan is a fi ction. Nelson loves to engage in intellectual conversations or debates over a wide range of philosophical issues from history and literature to general sciences, machine learning, singularity, or topics where he feels an intellectual superiority. Even politics and economics are welcome. However, the local obsession with the temple and prophecy feels like ants crawling on his psychological skin. Wedged inside the luggage hold of the Tote Charter Gulfstream V, crammed together with storage bins and high-end server racks, Nelson monitors the satellite download. Ten petabytes of data transfers from the university server through an encrypted satellite channel transmission that bypasses standard internet protocols and security. Matan stayed at the university to monitor uploads to the satellite and complete an important favor for Taylor. “You realize, Dr. Garrett, the nature of faith is belief in a truth that the eye cannot see.” Mordechai chats with him while he works. Left behind by Taylor, the monk was interested to see a private jet. Regrettably, Nelson brought him along. “Some of us seek a spiritual truth, which is neither a religious truth nor a scientific truth, but yet still a truth. Have you ever believed in something that your eye can’t see?” Nelson’s not an atheist, per se, more of a pragmatist in need of compelling evidence. Yet, the past few days have Nelson questioning much of what he once considered true. Still wrestling with the loss of poor Salem, and revelations of his father’s conspiracies, such pressure on a personal matter pushes Nelson to the limits of his shallow emotional reserve. He falls back on his manners to engage but avoids any true transparency. “I can’t say that I have. I will say the field of theoretical physics contains phenomena we can’t observe directly. In particular, string theory postulates the existence of a multiverse. While a multiple universe scenario might explain attributes often attributed to the realm of the spirit, without empirical evidence, I am neither a convert to string theory nor to religion.” Nelson turns on his phone speaker, which connects to Matan. “Matan, the download speed has improved. How much longer?” Nelson changes the subject, uncomfortable with the monk’s evangelism. “Looks like another hour,” Matan replies. “May I ask you a question?” “Of course,” Nelson replies, anything will be better than this religious interrogation. “What I think the monk wants to know is how a man who rejects God could create such a divine wisdom as Sister Sylvia?” Matan asks. “I’m not a fan, but I hear good things.” Buggers. Ambushed by both men. Nelson considers the question for a moment. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Professor Rubin. I designed SLVIA to be a versatile espionage program, able to access any network, and move about in stealth. Its algorithms analyze and synthesize information using complex linguistics and nonlinear regression.” “Fascinating,” Matan replies, clearly intrigued. “Although a little frightening. I can understand why so many nations would kill to possess such a program.” “Yes, I suppose so,” Nelson admits, never thinking in those terms when he created his masterpiece. Another reason not to repeat the mistake. Nelson would never want to offend either of these men, but the idea of his espionage AI as having spiritual insight sounds ludicrous. An individual AI cannot be good or evil, benevolent, or malicious, which is all sci-fi Hollywood poppycock. An AI has no emotion and does not need to harm or control others, unless designed or trained to do so, such as AI used within weapons. “Sister Sylvia used to say that the most important reason to understand prophecy was to realign human priorities to care for others during the coming tribulation,” says Mordechai. “Someone taught the machine to care.” Nelson raises an eyebrow. He immediately thinks of Taylor, the man who secretly worked directly with the SLVIA for two decades. Taylor has always been an enigma. A brilliant, inspired, driven, sardonic, yet broken, narcissist. A genius, compassionate survivor. “Tell me, Dr. Garrett, as a scientist, what are the statistical probabilities we would discover the true ark after nearly 2600 years at the same time the children of Israel have assembled into a nation after nearly 2000 years, only days before Israel forms an alliance to bring the third temple just as the prophets foretold?” Matan questions. “I am a secular pragmatist, and yet, the past few days have me wondering.” “Sister Sylvia also spoke of the probabilities we could fulfill hundreds of prophecies since 1948. Prophecies on Israel, technology, world alliances, environment, moral culture, space, and more,” adds Mordechai. “All completed. What are the odds?” Nelson can’t calculate such a probability without valid data, but intuitively it must be quite low. He gets the sense that these men already believe in an answer absent the analysis. “You don’t need to answer, Dr. Nelson. A rhetorical question. I’m merely suggesting that while Mordechai may not prove to you that prophecies are in play, neither can you prove they are not in play.” Nelson stops for a moment to consider the statement. He can’t refute the clear statistical anomalies. But that’s where it ends. Nelson sees the world in black and white, or rather, proven mathematical theorems. Yet, a deep part of him wonders if he has blinded himself to a meaningful aspect of life itself, just as he was blind to the suffering in Africa and Yemen. “I can’t explain the unusual probabilities or the interesting case made by the SLVIA. I suppose that only time will tell,” Nelson admits. “Yet, I am sure the Almighty has standards, and perhaps I am simply not meant to see or believe.” Somehow, the knowledge of his family’s history of corruption adds to the shame of his own moral transgressions in developing weapons to suggest in his mind a DNA of an ambivalent agnosticism, if not evil. Logically, that makes no sense, but Nelson doesn’t have a better answer. “All men carry regrets, Dr. Garrett,” Mordechai agrees. “The aftermath of our youth, our zeal, our ignorance, and our pride. Prophecies warn that the end-time church itself will be apostate, fragmented, and full of false beliefs and false teachers. Courts determine a man’s innocence or guilt, but imperfectly. Only God can forgive who we are in secret, because only God can see our secrets.” Forgiveness sounds like a foreign concept to Nelson. His father fiercely enforced the notion that actions have consequences. “I see the world through the clear lens of science and theorems that I can test and either prove or disprove.” What he doesn’t discuss are the countless ways he insulated himself from the moral consequences of his work. Layers of bureaucracy or field command separated the design of his AI technologies from the bodies on the field. He has numbed his conscience. T he phone line goes silent for a long moment. “No one can find what they do not seek,” Matan replies with a gentle voice. “Perhaps you learned to value only what others taught you to value,” adds Mordechai. Precisely. Nelson’s father never valued humanity over success, and Nelson never taught the SLVIA. How can the creation be moral if the creator is not? To revive such intelligence may no longer be wise.