Onodera had whirled on Vivy and was pointing his gun on her, openly hostile. “Kakitani! Would you quit it already?! Get your head on straight! How long do you plan on letting an AI jerk you around?!”
“You’re the one who needs to stop exploding every time you look at an AI,” Kakitani replied. “You’re going to overlook some key details if you keep flipping out. Do you even get what capturing Diva means for us?”
“Yui’s right,” Elizabeth chimed in. “There’s no way she’s blissfully unaware of the AIs’ plans. Besides, we’ve got a Diva of our own. If things go well…”
“We might be able to throw the AIs off or something of the like,” Matsumoto finished for her.
“Grr…”
The three of them discussed the strategic benefits, ignoring Onodera as he seethed in anger.
Their unit had already infiltrated the park, and they’d confirmed that security in the castle in question was light. They couldn’t have Vivy stand in for Diva if they didn’t capture the other one. Plus, the unknown songstress seemed crucial to the AIs’ plans. It would be best to eliminate her from the playing field now, if possible.
Most of all, Vivy was repulsed by the fake Diva’s existence.
“I won’t let them use Diva,” said Vivy.
Diva had always supported her. Vivy had decided to separate herself from the part of her that was Diva for the Singularity Project. She was not the same AI as Diva, and drawing that line helped her accept overwriting her own existence as something else—as a unit meant for the Singularity Project. Even if Vivy stepped completely away from her mission as a songstress, she believed Diva would continue to fulfill that role.
Therefore, Vivy experienced an error she couldn’t accept as she looked at the fake Diva instigating the climactic war, leading the AIs as she sang for them and not for humanity.
An error. Yes, it was an error, and she had to get rid of it.
“They probably haven’t considered the possibility that we may attack the Princess Palace,” Matsumoto remarked. “Something has felt off as I’ve tried to figure out this countdown. Do we have the luxury of additional consideration?”
“Spit it out, Professor. What do you mean something feels off?” Onodera asked.
“Well, I wonder if we’re not playing into our opponent’s hands by focusing on the countdown.” Matsumoto guided the flow of the conversation and held up a finger for Onodera, who looked annoyed by the whole exchange.
All the normal people frowned at the genius’s vague phrasing. He clapped his hands together to prepare the audience and then launched into his explanation.
“The AIs declared war on humanity, then put out this countdown for all to see. We don’t know their true intentions, but the time keeps ticking away. Obviously, humanity will scramble to try and figure out what this countdown means. It’s incredibly easy to predict that course of action.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“If you prepare a very blatant riddle, humanity will focus entirely on solving it. It’s a trick to draw the attention of kindergarteners. Apparently, researchers performed similar tests when developing the earliest autonomous AIs. This has the same feeling.”
“In other words, what? We’re like kindergartners caught in a trap?” Elizabeth asked.
“It’s a possibility. In that case, it would be best to try several methods for obtaining answers and approach it from an angle outside of their control.”
Capturing the fake Diva would qualify for that, based on Matsumoto’s theory. Having the countdown displayed so obviously meant the AIs assumed humanity would take some action to figure out what it was for, but making a move on the fake Diva would be acting on a chance encounter brought about by their resourcefulness. The AIs likely had no countermeasure in place for that.
“I’ll keep putting everything I have into figuring out this countdown,” Matsumoto went on. “We should also devote ourselves to capturing the fake Diva. I’m fine with minimal protection.”
“Just to be clear, if they find out we’re trying to do something about the countdown, the AIs will come swarming,” Kakitani said. “That’d be the end of one weakling AI nerd.”
Matsumoto shrugged. “Ha ha, that’s one way of looking at it. But no researcher makes it big if they stick to a single theme or limit themselves to one method. No matter the discipline, trial and error is the secret to success—especially when we’ve only got one chance to get the right answer or humanity comes to an end.”
Kakitani’s eyes went round as she was taken aback. In fact, every member of Toak reacted the same way. From a normal person’s perspective, they were soldiers gathered beneath a unique conviction, but even Matsumoto’s mentality was different from the average person’s. Otherwise, how else could he have come up with the idea to save the world by modifying the past? That was why he was with them in the first place.
Ignoring their shock, Matsumoto faced Vivy. She straightened her posture when he looked at her. It felt to her like the task she was meant to accomplish in this era would finally be made clear.
“Vivy, I’m giving you an order one last time.”
“…”
“This is the final stage of the Singularity Project. Save humanity.”
At his order, something clicked inside Vivy. Her course of action and her calculations were now in alignment. Vivy stared straight back at Matsumoto and nodded.
“I will carry out your orders, Professor Matsumoto, in accordance with the Three Laws and the Zeroth Law.”
. : 3 : .
THEY PUT THE PLAN to capture the fake Diva into action, running parallel to Professor Matsumoto’s analysis of the countdown. However, as the idea had come to them while working on their original plan, they didn’t have much of a hand to play.
The Toak unit that had infiltrated NiaLand was made up of fifteen people, most of whom already had jobs to take care of. Few forces could be allocated to Matsumoto and Vivy’s last-minute proposal. So, who had been assigned to the task?
“Stop staring at my face.”
“I’m just… I am still surprised at the choice of personnel.”
“Despite being an AI, you’re slow to change tack. Or are you saying I’m not good enough?”
“That’s not it.”
In truth, Vivy was worried about how good Kakitani Yui was, but the woman brushed it off with a steely expression. The two of them were running side by side, deeper and deeper into NiaLand, and Kakitani kept up without breaking a sweat.
Vivy had proposed the adventurous strategy, but it had been slim pickings. Most of the Toak members had their own duties to attend to, and any spares had to defend the security room. Kakitani had been selected for this mission as the person least suited to defense.
“Even if the leader isn’t strictly cut out for defense, wouldn’t they normally stay in the base anyway?” Vivy asked.
“That’s one way to think about it. But we don’t have a single leader in Toak. I was made something like a leader for this cell for convenience, but the organization wouldn’t function well if it relied on one person. Everyone is prepared to lead a cell if they have to.”
“Ideally, it would be like that, yes, but that’s…”
“That’s what?”
“Functioning without reliance on any given person…feels like AI thinking.”
AIs specialized in output that met expectations, as they guaranteed uniform functionality and results. They might not produce huge wins, but they also didn’t make huge mistakes. AIs didn’t need incredible results in the work that was asked of them. The most important things were that they didn’t fail and that they produced steady output. That was a basic principle of mass production. It wasn’t supposed to be that way for humans.
“Tch. Thanks for rubbing salt in the wound.”
“You already thought so?”
“We don’t get hung up on our lives; we focus on our intentions. I don’t think that’s wrong, but…it is ironic that we’re becoming more like AIs so we can defeat them. It’s just like this ridiculous farce with AIs calling themselves humanity.”
“…”
“You make the same face Elizabeth does. I’d actually prefer being mocked.” Kakitani glared at the silent Vivy, then clicked her tongue again. Although Kakitani usually had a furrow between her brows, Vivy’s eyes narrowed as she saw Kakitani’s rough mannerisms.
Kakitani and Elizabeth’s relationship was another strange thing. According to Elizabeth, she was almost like a nanny to Kakitani.
“You were raised by an AI, and you still hate AIs?” Vivy asked.
“I don’t like making it about whether I hate them or not. I just kept on warning people that the world was in danger ’cause the AIs were going to try and replace humanity. And now that it’s actually happening, I’m just running around trying to make things better. That’s all.”
“So you don’t necessarily hate AIs?”
“Come on, it’s not like everyone in Toak hates AIs. A lot of my comrades are motivated by that sort of thing. Matsumoto’s daughter was blown up by AIs, and Onodera’s son died because an AI caused his life support equipment to malfunction when he was real sick. A lot of the others have similar stories.”
“…”
“Stop looking at one person and trying to change the balance of the world. I’m me, and you’re you. But humanity’s humanity, and AIs are AIs.”
Kakitani’s philosophy was simple, and Vivy had no way to refute it. Still, Vivy was grateful for this. She never had the chance to have a real conversation with Kakitani’s grandfather, but this Kakitani was willing to discuss things so long as they had the time.
“I can see the castle’s entrance. Is the main entrance the only way in and out?” Kakitani asked.
“You can get in on the right, on the other side of the moat. The moat has water in it, but there’s a path with a handrail along the wall. We’ll take that route.”
“All right.”
After that quick exchange, the two snuck into the Princess Palace. There were no AIs guarding the area, and the gloom of the deepening night hid their two forms even from the light of the moon.
The countdown had roughly six hours remaining. It would reach zero around 4:30 in the morning. At this time of year, that was right around sunrise.
“Wonder if it’ll be humanity or AIs who see the dawn,” Kakitani said. “Our actions determine if tonight’s the last night in human history—and tomorrow’s the first dawn in AI history.” She stared at her analog watch as she waxed poetic. She was using an incredibly old-fashioned windup pocket watch, which suited the woman who avoided digital technology at all costs.