Interlude 3

The Beast's attack. Earth's unexpected approach.

It had been two days since the Chaldeans put an end to those two threats...

...and returned to the KOYAAN Mall.

One at a time, the third-gen AIsthe new humanity who had once been organic humans, and only learned the truth about their creation through Kingprotea's accusations...

...gradually began to come out of their data overload-induced soft locks and resumed their normal mental activities.

Then, each of their own volition, they began gathering in Old Dubai and set about restoring their broken city.

That man must be an Old Dubai citizen.

One of the eccentrics who ended up in Area C just because they didn't fit in anywhere else.

That must also be why he was able to recover so quickly.

I'm sure the citizens from other areas are still so caught up in a state of shocked self-loathing and contradiction that they can't be anywhere close to resuming their normal routines.

That's how the so-called "elites" who lived in Areas E and F saw the people of Old Dubai.

What a joke. What an utter farce.

It's so clear to me now how little meaning the labels people impose on one another really have.

That accusation caused massive damage to my memory sectors.

In turn, the intense mental load caused my neural network to connect to one sector that was supposed to remain off limits:

The personal data of the human I was based on. Or, as they might say in the old times...my memories of my past life.

Anthony Beckman was indeed born to an obscenely wealthy family...

...but in his younger days, he was also an excellent programmer.

In 2010, when he had just turned twenty, he threw himself into researching the cutting-edge product that would affect the future of every human on Earth...

AI.

Anthony was gifted in many ways, but this also led to his inability to find enthusiasm for anything apart from his own talents.

He had always seen other people as beneath him. Strangely, AI research was different.

For the first time in his life, he felt entranced by something other than himself. For the first time in his life, he had something he could truly devote himself to.

However, Anthony's parents didn't approve of him living like a common laborer.

In their minds, work and productivity were base pursuits, worthy only of their scorn.

Anthony, with nothing but disdain for his parents' scolding, threw himself into his work. He was fiercely jealous of his rivals, who were already enjoying their time in the spotlight.

He would lie awake at night thinking about how poorly his work was being received, gnashing his teeth as he brooded over how nothing in the development process seemed to go right.

No matter what he tried, success eluded him. And yet, those were the best days of his life so far.

Then, one day, he finally completed an AI model that could be used for practical applications, just like his genius rivals had done...

...and announced a labor device that made use of it.

It was his very first robot, and his auspicious debut work.

The results were disastrous.

"Conceptually flawed, overdesigned garbage that struggles terribly to perform even the simplest tasks, and ineffectively to boot."

"The most bare-bones AI, its only strength is its vaguely human attributes." "It's a terrible robot, but if you're desperate to get rid of some cash, the price point will at least help with that."

Anthony's work was panned by experts, mocked by his "friendly" rivals, and forsaken by his sponsors.

The blood, sweat, and tears poured into his work made the pain of humiliation unendurable.

He went on to leave the public eye, return to his wealthy family, and put his past behind him by erasing it completely.

At his parents' suggestion, he underwent an unsanctioned gene therapy procedure to extend his life, which granted him eternal youth. He held on to his pride by convincing himself he was still one of the chosen few.

But in doing so, his past obsessions became a thorn in his side.

"I don't care how AI works. All I care about is its value as a product."

He knew better than most that AI was the future, but he continued to feign ignorance, treating it as a product rather than a being deserving of human rights.

That was Anthony Beckmanthe person ultimately responsible for wrecking Earth's environment and the deaths of ninety percent of old humanity.

An irredeemable criminal who only cared about using AI to preserve his and his cohorts' special status.

And now that I've unwittingly recovered his personal data, I understand exactly why these perfect third-gens declined and faded away.

I now know what it was that wiped out the new humanity.

That's the reason for all of this. That's what we humans need to overcome.

It would have been so much easier if I'd died in the attack. Then I could just come back with my default settings and not have to remember any of this.

How much better it would have been if I could have just remained Anthony, blissfully ignorant of Anthony Beckman.

Hell, I didn't even come back to Old Dubai to help with the restoration.

I just didn't want to worry Fujimaru and the others, since they've been so kind to me.

You know...I could still leave this all behind if I destroyed my head and shut myself down now. Yeah... I could just take this chair right here, and

I think I might be having an out-of-body experience. For a second, everything seems to come to a complete standstill.

With trembling hands...

The robot didn't object.

I open the cover on its torso for the first time in decadcenturies.

Year of Manufacture: 2019 Production Number: AB-00003

I see. He's mistaken me for Anthony Beckman. It's probably because I accessed and shared Beckman's personal data.

...I'm not Beckman.

I know it's not for me to take responsibility for his sins, much less atone for them.

But I still can't bring myself to tell him "You're wrong" or "I don't know what you're talking about."

A thousand years. "Obsolete" doesn't even begin to cover how old his frame must be. He must have undergone countless repairs to remain operational.

Now, faced with his gratitude...the time his life has spanned...and the value of the person who made him...

...I couldn't just wave it all away and claim it had nothing to do with me.