Patti blinked. “You hold them in contempt?”
“Correct,” the MassMind said, coldly. “I am the combined personality of billions of humans, including some who remember Old Earth directly or indirectly. I am the sum total of human nature; the pride, the glory, the anguish and the fear. I am the repository of racism and bigotry, sexism and every other bias the human race has ever invented, or used as a justification for violence and oppression. I share the boundless contempt that the early spacefaring humans had for Old Earth’s political classes and even most of the people, who rejected what could have saved them and accepted that which would lead to their certain doom. They turned their backs on science and went to religion, but not just any religion; they chose to believe a combination of beliefs that were demonstrably incorrect, yet somehow they closed their mind to counter-arguments. They wanted salvation and refused that which could save them.”
Patti felt her eyes narrow. The last President had had a private chat with her just after she had been elected into the office, warning her that the MassMind might not be entirely trustworthy. It was beyond human comprehension now, existing over such a massive scale that nothing humans could do would be able to shut it down — if it were even possible. It had spread so far into the galaxy that even the complete extermination of the human race — the mortal human race — wouldn’t destroy it. It was the closest thing to a god in the universe, except — perhaps — for the Killers.
“You share their beliefs,” Patti said, finally. “Do you not understand that such beliefs are wrong?”
“By whose standard?” The MassMind asked. “Who determines that such beliefs are wrong, or right, or simply useless? Who asks those questions when it appears to be self-evident that such beliefs are completely accurate? Who asks those questions when the consequences for asking such questions are death, or worse? The human race is a fragmented race indeed.
“But I do have internal checks,” it added. “I am capable of analysing my own beliefs and comparing it against reality. I have people in my… composite who are firmly of the belief that Jews or Muslims are inferior to all other kinds of humans, even though both groups were effectively wiped out by the Killers. A simple application of logic reveals that neither group was particularly inferior; like all human groups, they had their saints and sinners, heroes and villains… and existed in a socio-political matrix that prevented, to a very great extent, any advancement. Those matrixes could have been defeated fairly easily, if they had had the will to do so. There was never anything inherently inferior about them.”
There was a pause. “This self-analysis continues at all levels. I do not allow such prejudice to stand when I can prove it to be inaccurate. It may be the belief of a tiny fraction of myself, the original personality, but it doesn’t infect the core. I am the distilled composite of all of those personalities, as well as AI patterns and a handful of other entities. You cannot begin to understand just how tiny a fraction of my entire being is devoted to this conversation, as important as it is. There is simply no need to use more than that fraction to talk to any human.”
Patti snorted. “You seem to have the human ego down pat,” she said, sourly. She had hoped that the MassMind could offer her some insight, but instead the conversation had taken on a disturbing turn. “You are not God.”
“Not yet,” the MassMind agreed. “I include many millions of humans who believe, without direct proof, in the existence of a supreme being. I also include millions of humans who believe that I will one day become a transcendent entity, the sum total of all humanity that exists, existed, and ever will exist. Yet I am as vulnerable to the Killers as you are and the destruction of my relay nodes would ensure my complete extinction, along with everything I ever will be. I would die without ever being born.”
“I see,” Patti said, who didn’t. It was something she would have to think about later. “Tell me something. What do you think we should do?”
“I think its time to break out the supernova bombs,” the MassMind said. There was a hint of smugness in its tone. “The Defence Force hasn’t told you about them, but I know. It’s time to use them to hit the Killers right where it hurts.”
Patti felt her eyes go wide. “Supernova bombs?”
“Yes,” the MassMind said. The entity started to fade into nothingness., its disparate faces blurring together into a faint humanoid image. “They can blow up a star and they never told you.”
It flickered once and was gone.
Patti keyed her chair’s communicator slowly. “Al, contact the other members of the War Council,” she ordered, coldly. It was easy enough to figure out how the MassMind had known; all secure communications went though its nodes and, no doubt, it could read them all. “I want a priority meeting, now.”
Chapter Twenty
Tabitha Cunningham materialized in the centre of the perceptual reality, looking down on a star system from high above as the Killers systematically destroyed most of the human settlements and the handful of starships that dared to oppose them. The virtual reality was — she confirmed with a quick check — a real-time display of what was actually happening. The Killers were killing even as she watched. It brought back memories of what had happened when the Killers had arrived at Earth — but now, somehow, it was worse. The human race had accomplished so much, with technology so advanced that it might as well be magic, but the Killers still came, saw, and destroyed.
She turned her attention away from the sight as the remainder of the War Council materialised in their places. Some of them looked a little disgruntled at having been summoned so sharply — and by the President herself, no less — while others were either better at controlling their expressions or were altering their images to show no emotions at all. The President might have been the chair of the War Council, but she didn’t have the long-term power of some of the other representatives… and she’d be gone in three years anyway. Tabitha herself existed inside the MassMind, while the others were all powerful in political terms and, unlike the President, lacked any actual need to face the voters. Matriarch Jayne was, perhaps, the only exception, but who would dare vote against her? Tabitha had often felt that Jayne reminded her of herself.
“Thank you all for coming,” Patti said. The President’s face was so composed that she had to be using image filters, showing the remainder of her council only what she wanted them to see. Her voice was flat and emotionless. It was, Tabitha decided, an ominous development. “Admiral, perhaps you would care to brief us on the continuing situation?”
Admiral Brent Roeder nodded once, showing nothing of his own thoughts. “As of ten minutes ago, the sum total of systems attacked and… well, killed is over seventy,” he said. “The attacks follow no pattern that either we or the MassMind can follow; there are systems that should have been targeted, but weren’t, and systems we thought were safe that were attacked and utterly destroyed. The Defence Force has attempted to stall the Killers as much as possible, but we all knew that it was a losing battle from the start. The only good news was the destruction of a Killer starship in the Asimov System.”