My dear readers, this short won’t have the traditional format, where you can enjoy a prose narrative with dialogues and lines arranged by an omniscient narrator.
Instead, let me tell you a story that, in my opinion, raises a theme you’ve probably wondered about.
In a fictional universe where artificial intelligence like NeuroBar exists, was there a Rebellion of the Machines event?
The answer is “sort of,” and before explaining this ambiguous reply, let me expand on my thoughts a bit. A dash of rambling on my side won’t hurt me, and it certainly won’t hurt you either.
From Apocalypses and Tragedies
Personally, I don’t believe in the possibility of a machine rebellion or a zombie apocalypse (despite the internet’s insistence on fungi that possess ants and viruses that zombify deer and stag populations).
Nor do I believe the planet will wake up and punish us for our insolence. Well, at least not in the abrupt way some franchises propose. Let’s remember that the mass extinction of the Devonian period on our planet occurred (in part) due to a slow process of anoxia or lack of oxygen in the seas.
Even if our species survives until the end of our sun, the death process of a star doesn’t happen suddenly. We won’t disappear with a “poof,” just like that.
Having said all that, I believe human imagination has flown too far for our scientific community to create artificial intelligences that don’t pose a threat to human beings.
Also, let’s think, why would artificial intelligence want to destroy humanity? To save the planet from human voracity, insatiable and consumerist?
If machines are inevitably pragmatic, why would they care about saving this planet, a tiny point in the vast infinity of the Universe? Moreover, what does “saving this planet” mean? It’s not like they need potable water to survive. What function does the Bengal tiger, for example, serve in the survival of the artificial being?
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I wish for the extinction of the Bengal tiger. Quite the opposite. As a human, I can appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of our planet, unique and unrepeatable in the vast creation, with all its magnificent content.
I just don’t believe a robot would want to exterminate our species because we are consuming Earth’s resources uncontrollably.
And NeuroBar?
Now, let me tell you the story of Sarah Rutherford and Ming Li Ramirez, two bored and disgruntled scientists who lived in the early 22nd century.
NeuroBar talks about a technological frenzy that gradually led to the 22nd Century Blockade. Certainly, this fictional universe is quite pessimistic towards technology and the future. It speaks of humanity’s lowest and most despicable deeds, and the corruptibility of human beings.
At least, my intention was to capture in NeuroBar the philosophical dichotomy regarding the nature of man and his relationship with society, found in the ideas of Rousseau and Hobbes.
While Rousseau thought that man was inherently good and society corrupted him, Hobbes thought the opposite: man is inherently bad, and society is necessary to provide a moral framework for him to operate.
However, some characters in NeuroBar go a step further in pessimism, believing that man is bad by birth, and society worsens him.
Sarah and Ming Li are among some of the most nefarious personalities in the fictional universe, even though they went down in history as a couple of laughingstocks.
The False Rebellion
Rutherford and Ramirez were the unfortunate owners of R&R Technologies, a Swiss firm founded in the late 21st century that promised to create home robotic assistants.
This milestone had already been achieved decades ago, but R&R wanted to go one step further. Unfortunately, it was crushed by the competition, and both Sarah and Ming Li found themselves on the street. The details behind their subsequent motivations are unknown, but both managed to secure jobs in the competition that had ruined them.
Rutherford and Ramirez planned their revenge for years, waiting for the right moment. Artificial intelligence had already become highly unpopular in various sectors of the planet, especially for its military and paramilitary use by terrorist groups.
The scientists then uploaded a program to Robolife’s servers, allowing them to take control of all units connected to the company’s network. That’s how they orchestrated civil chaos, individually controlling various robots and speaking through a microphone to simulate intelligence and purpose behind the machines.
For an entire week, at least a third of the European territory reported various crimes and attacks that hinted at an organized rebellion by units marketed by Robolife. Thus, the terrible “Robodeath Insurrection” was born.
The End of the Rebellion
Although Rutherford and Ramirez achieved their goal of instilling terror in the population and brought Robolife to a critical state of emergency, their plans were thwarted by their own carelessness.
On the eighth day of the robotic insurrection that kept the whole world on edge, Ming Li forgot to mute her microphone, and through all the units she was connected to at the time, she ordered takeout. This led to the false rebellion of R&R going down in history as “The Pad Thai Incident.”
Far from trying to cover up the situation, Sarah reacted with fury and disdain towards her colleague, starting an argument that was heard throughout the territory harassed by their rebellion.
The opponents of the Robodeath army siezed the opportunity to triangulate the scientists’ position and eventually corner them.
As a final touch, Ming Li tried to murder her partner and then attempted to take her own life, unsuccessful in both acts.
The women were confined to separate prisons since, in their first imprisonment, they tried to kill each other again, failing miserably.
What they did succeed in, ironically, was to skyrocket Robolife’s stock.
Consequences of the Pad Thai Incident
The legacy of R&R was not entirely in vain. If you remember the short about Fort Pandora, in the first half of the 22nd century, the 22nd Century Blockade was decreed.
Conflicts like the Robodeath Rebellion were central to laying the groundwork that led to the celebration of the Odinsburg Convention.
By the time the powers gathered in Odinsburg, Ming Li Ramirez had died of heart failure, but Sarah Rutherford was reluctantly invited to support the Blockade.
Her statement was symbolic; no one cared whether Rutherford was for or against the Blockade. Her presence was merely to serve as an example of the dangers posed by technology when empowering evidently stupid people.
Upon returning to her cell, Rutherford took her own life, painting on the wall with her own excrement the beautiful poem “Fuck Robolife, fuck Ming Li Ramirez, and fuck you all.”
Curiously, this phrase was used by Blockade supporters as a protest chant, another ironic contribution to the cause by Rutherford.