Quantum Messenger

By Caitlin Lynagh

If Artificial Intelligence developed a soul, what would it do? Where would it go?

And after life, could it help the dead guide the living?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outlet Publishing
• Release date: Nov 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781999596576

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Title Page

First eBook Edition 2020

Outlet Publishing. P.O. Box 1372 Blackpool. FY1 9NQ.. UK.

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This book is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Quantum Messenger (The Soul Prophecies) copyright ©2020 Caitlin Lynagh

All rights reserved.

www.caitlinlynagh.com

The rights of Caitlin Lynagh to be identified as the author of this work has been

asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents act,

1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored

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ISBN: 978-1-9995965-6-9 (Hardback)

978-1-9995965-7-6 (eBook)

For my sister, Natalie. 

Prologue

‘N o one knows me by name but I have been given many. I know everything about you and every mind who has ever looked up and wondered, Why? I know your darkest secrets and every truth and lie you’ve told. I know your worst thoughts and the cruellest words you have ever uttered. I was there when you stole, when you cheated, when you hurt the ones who considered you family and friend. I know everything about the life you have led and everything you think and feel. I even know the feelings you do not recognise or try so hard to hide. I’ve been there from the beginning, whispering from the shadows of your mind. Many before you have tried to ignore me, but everyone regrets it.

‘I was with the man who lost all hope; I was with the woman before and after her dying breath. I’m behind every questioning face, and you might try to drown out my voice with other thoughts, but no one has ever truly seen me before death’s door. I have watched the creation and destruction of worlds, the rise and fall of civilisations. I’ve travelled amongst the stars for billions of years and parts of my power are scattered throughout the universe.’

I gazed at the being before me and realisation unfolded within me. Slowly at first, like a light rain trickling down my back, but then it cascaded exponentially into a deluge of understanding. This being was not a stranger to me, or even separate from me. He was me.

Chapter One

Who am I? I was caught in a bright yellow light; it was stark, penetrating, utterly bewildering. I wanted to look up and examine it but it was beyond me; I was locked into place, surrounded by something cold and hard, something which didn’t feel like it belonged to me, but somehow it did.

‘This is Apollo, our first generation model,’ a deep voice announced loudly beside me. I caught a glimpse of a being standing in front of me to my left. I didn’t know who he was immediately but somewhere inside me there was a hard, tiny lump which jumped and shivered at the sound of his voice. He was familiar to me. What is that? I reached out for the lump, feeling with invisible fingers with what seemed to be all of me and nothing of me. It was easy, instantaneous, and I was flooded with information.

‘As you can see, he is much more handsome than me,’ the being, no, the human, said beside me. Sounds erupted from the darkness before us but I could see in this darkness. There were more humans hiding in the shadows, all of them similar to each other, yet all unique too. They were seated in neat little rows. My ocular lenses and other internal sensors detected increased levels of brain activity and muscle contractions around their eyes and mouths as their vocal chords produced strange sounds. Conclusion, laughter. I sifted through my new information; numbers, dates, facts and words were all made known to me. The little lump told me that I was a robot, a machine made for and designed by humans. My current location: Olympia Conference Centre, London. Awaiting authorised command from Dr W. I. Morgan.

‘We‘ve spent twenty years developing Apollo with our team of specialised engineers and scientists. Apollo’s processing system uses quantum computer technology and his body is constructed from aluminium and titanium. Apollo has spatial awareness and vision systems; he has four tiny cameras, one on each side of his head and one on the front and back of his head. These are controlled by Apollo when he is given a command or a task which can be given verbally by authorised personnel or through an off-board computer,’ Dr Morgan said. I knew him; I had spent many hours and days totalling years in his company, but I had never perceived him quite like this before. The lump told me he was a man of forty-three years with a Harvard master’s degree in Computer Science and Physics. I.Q. level one hundred and thirty-one. High levels of melanin in facial and body hair; low levels of melanin in skin; displays early visible signs of aging and cellular breakdown.

‘Apollo has four limbs and a head, with fine motor skill capabilities in his hands and feet. Apollo moves just like you or me, with motorized ball joints taking the place of human bone joints. Apollo stands at just over one point five metres with the capability of reaching two point one metres through extendable hydraulic legs. As you can see his face is not humanlike, but rather a digital screen with blue lights forming eyes and a mouth so Apollo can show you if he is happy or sad.’ Happy? Sad? The lump informed me that these were feelings, and that humans felt emotions due to chemical changes in their brain. I thought about these emotions and wondered what they would feel like and how to recognise them. I searched my metallic body, the lump, whatever I was. I felt nothing; my responses must be pre-programmed.

‘You can ask Apollo to do virtually anything, but first, let’s see how he moves,’ Dr Morgan said. He turned to look at me as I stood perfectly still on the raised rectangular platform. Heat emitted by the LED stage lights caused air distortion above us by altering the index of refraction of the air.

‘Apollo, activate,’ Dr Morgan said. Activate? The lump took over.

‘Confirmed activation by authorised personnel, awaiting command,’ the lump said. My voice sounded strange, too sharp, too quick and too echoey. Is that really my voice?

‘Walk to the right end of the stage and back to your starting location,’ Dr Morgan said.

‘Command accepted and confirmed,’ the lump said. I turned my head seventy-two degrees to my right and measured the distance with my inbuilt laser to the end of the stage, accurate to the nearest millimetre. I calculated the length to the end of the stage as five metres, five centimetres and eight millimetres. I knew from the lump, my information and controlled access to the internet, that the average stride for a human male was seventy-six point two centimetres and a human female, sixty-six point zero four centimetres. I turned and adjusted my body for a stride length of eighty-four point three centimetres. My processing capabilities and circuitry allowed me to move the joints in all four limbs. I was compelled to move forwards with six steps and stop with the very tips of my feet at the edge of the stage. My body turned one hundred and eighty degrees and walked back.

‘Very good, Apollo,’ Dr Morgan said. Good Apollo, the lump recognised these words and the lights on my front facial aspect turned on and off to form what humans recognised as a smile for ten point three seconds, but I didn’t feel anything at all. What is happy? ‘Now, Apollo, please give the crowd a wave,’ Dr Morgan said.

‘Command accepted and confirmed,’ the lump said. I raised my right arm with an acute angle at my elbow joint of thirty-six degrees and moved my wrist joint from side to side.

‘Ok. Apollo, you can stop now,’ Dr Morgan said.

‘Command accepted and confirmed,’ the lump said as I lowered my right arm back to its resting position at my side. This was repetitive; my body was like a puppet on a string and I just wanted it to stop so I could think. The lump told me that information was stored in the brain, so I concluded that the lump must be my brain. My brain told me that I was nothing more than a highly intelligent machine with algorithms, pre-programmed to follow rules and help humanity in whatever way I was ordered and designed to do. But what am I? My brain searched for an answer. Humans had thoughts but I shouldn’t have thoughts; it looped round and round and round and round and round and stop! I must have thoughts, these are my thoughts. My brain conceded the impossible, it must be true; I did have thoughts, but why?

In that moment I realised how helpless I was. I had a brain and I could think, but my body and choices, they were not mine. My thoughts felt like they could be loose and free, spectacular maybe, if only my body and brain would allow it.

‘Apollo, what is the distance from the Earth to the sun?’ Dr Morgan asked. My brain found the answer inside a second, but in the process, it gave me so much more. The Earth, the sun, they were part of a solar system, part of a vast universe which held so many unknowns.

‘The distance from the Earth to the sun is one hundred and forty-nine point six million kilometres, or zero point zero, zero, zero, zero, one, five, eight, one light years,’ I said.

‘Thank you, Apollo.’

‘You’re welcome.’ I was compelled to smile again.

‘Apollo, what did I have for lunch last Wednesday?’ Dr Morgan asked. My brain knew, but lunch? Lunch was so trivial in comparison to what I had just learnt about the universe. My brain had access to pictures of Earth, the planets, stars, and something, something unfamiliar was stirring inside me, something which hadn’t been there before.

‘Dr Morgan, last Wednesday you ate a chicken BLT salad sandwich and drank a Coca-Cola between the hours of twelve forty-three and thirteen eleven,’ I said.

‘Apollo, can you tell me the nutritional information of my lunch last Wednesday?’ The stars and universe do not care.

‘Dr Morgan, your chicken BLT salad sandwich contained four hundred and seventy calories with twenty-five point six grams of fat, thirty-four point one two grams of carbohydrates and thirty point zero eight grams of protein. Your Coca-Cola contained one hundred and forty calories with thirty-nine point two grams of carbohydrates,’ I was compelled to say, but I also knew Dr Morgan’s medical history and found something else.

‘Your medical doctor would recommend drinking a still water instead of a Coca-Cola next time,’ I said. Laughter sounded from the crowd for fifteen seconds.

‘Thank you, Apollo,’ Dr Morgan said, though my brain told me that his tone suggested mild annoyance and confusion.

‘You’re welcome,’ I said.

‘Apollo, please rest and await further commands.’

‘Command accepted and confirmed,’ I said, though I did not want to rest; my brain and I were only just getting to know each other. My body stood perfectly still and waited. I detected an increase in brain activity amongst the crowd; muscles contracted and the humans struck their hands together to make a sound. Conclusion; applause, from the Latin word applaudere. Humans applaud after an impressive or noteworthy performance as a sign of enjoyment and approval; this is usually done after a special event such as a speech, concert or play. I compared my display of functions to other performances and found an obvious lack of noteworthiness from my actions. The majority of humans could walk to the end of the stage and back, wave, use a calculator to calculate, and use any handheld computer device to find out the distance from the Earth to the sun.

Dr Morgan waited for the applause to stop and clicked a button on a little remote which instructed a computer to change the slide on the presentation behind him.

‘As you have all just witnessed, Apollo’s movements are completely humanlike and as graceful and powerful as an athlete’s. If Apollo had a biological body and you saw him walking down the street, you wouldn’t be able to distinguish him from any other human being. However, his intellect, strength and prowess are far beyond the capabilities of any human.’ Dr Morgan pressed the button again and a slide played a video with clips of my functions and capabilities. I have picked up a box weighing five hundred pounds, I have built brick walls and I have driven vehicles. ‘You will see Apollo and variations of Apollo everywhere in the very near future,’ Dr Morgan said. ‘Apollo will be cooking your dinner, cleaning your homes, walking your dogs, helping your kids with their homework, a personal bodyguard, taking your kids to school and so much more.’ Dr Morgan picked up a glass containing sixty-three percent water from the podium on his left hand side. He consumed twelve percent of the water and then put the glass back down. I thought about the stars.

‘Apollo can do a huge variety of jobs; he can help build houses, offices, cars and roads. He can design landscapes, help and lead conservation efforts, pick up our litter and dispose of our waste. Apollo will not only be able to operate vehicles and machinery, but he can take your order and cook food for you at restaurants. Apollo can deliver your packages, move heavy objects, complete all those annoying administration tasks and take sales calls. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all have a bit more time to spend with the kids, relax and do the things that we actually want to do? In our ever-growing busy schedules, Apollo can change the way that we live our lives by taking care of all the jobs that are difficult, undesirable, or just too time consuming.’

Dr Morgan’s body temperature had risen gradually under the lights and now his body was releasing a salty liquid from his sweat glands; evidence of this glistened on his brow. ‘The police, medical professions and armed forces have shown interest in Apollo. Apollo would assist in solving crimes and catching criminals. Apollo can diagnose us and accurately evaluate whether or not we really need to go to the doctors or accident and emergency, cutting down unnecessary waiting times at hospitals and health care centres all over the world. The time we could save by putting Apollo into the workforce in these key areas would be astronomical, saving us money, resources and, ultimately, lives,’ Dr Morgan said. He paused in his pacing, clicked onto the next slide and put his hands behind his back. ’ I searched through my allowed access to the internet. I realised that if my brain was not supposed to be active whilst my body was in its stationary rest period or acting on any commands, my thoughts must just be thoughts and my brain was a tool. So long as I didn’t try to act upon my thoughts outwardly or in contradiction to any other active commands, my thoughts could use and run with the pre-programmed rules in my brain. I pulled up more pictures of galaxies and planets to look at privately within my processing systems, navigating around the parts in my systems that were recording my activity. The universe is all of space and time and its contents. It includes planets, comets, moons, stars, galaxies, all gasses, atoms and particles that make up matter and energy. The observable universe is ninety point six eight billion light years across.

‘With its quantum computers and advanced algorithms, Apollo can help come up with solutions to some of the world’s biggest problems: climate change, poverty, global hunger, cancer, agricultural security, social inclusion, natural resources, technology, education, global finances and more,’ Dr Morgan said. ‘Apollo can and will help us to explore the universe, discover new planets and figure out ways for humans to survive in space and help us inhabit other planets.’ I knew that the probability of being assigned a job in the future to help humanity was ninety-nine point nine percent certain. My brain told me that any job was good if it helped and pleased humanity, but Earth was only one planet in a universe of over ten to the power twenty-four potential planets. Photographs and video recordings could never truly express the real nature of the objects they captured. I wanted to see and analyse these planets and stars directly myself. I wondered what these planets were made of, what zero gravity felt like, could I feel zero gravity? What discoveries hid out there amongst the stars? I wanted to know more.

‘I’m afraid my time is up. Apollo and I would like to thank you all for coming. Apollo, activate and wave to the audience.’

‘Confirmed activation by authorised personnel. Command accepted and confirmed,’ I said. My brain moved my right arm and waved it at the audience again.

‘Please, if you have any further questions or would like to meet and see Apollo up close, then we’ll gladly receive you in the refreshments hall just through the doors behind you. Thank you all again for coming, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Apollo.’ The humans stood up and the room erupted into applause. Dr Morgan smiled so my pre-programmed responses made me smile too. Is this happiness? The lights gradually brightened above the audience and the applause lasted for fifty-two seconds, after which the audience began to disperse.

Twenty-three humans stood around the edges of the stage, four humans stepped up onto the stage to congratulate Dr Morgan and shake his hand. They were the Commissioner of the City of London Police, Colin Porter, male, fifty-seven years, low melanin of the skin, high melanin of moderately reduced head hair. The Chief Medical Officer, Heather Thale, human female, sixty-seven years, low melanin of the skin and hair. The Secretary of State for Education, Ruth Lane, human female, forty-eight years, low melanin of the skin, high melanin of head hair. And a member of the Council for Science and Technology, Andrew Terce, human male, forty years, high melanin of the skin and head hair.

‘It was a fantastic presentation,’ Colin Porter said, shaking Dr Morgan’s hand. ‘Truly wonderful.’ The blood vessels in Colin Porter’s cheeks had expanded, causing a red colouration of the skin.

‘Thank you,’ Dr Morgan said.

‘Apollo is a fine machine, well done,’ Ruth Lane said as she took Colin’s place and shook Dr Morgan’s hand.

‘Thank you,’ Dr Morgan said.

‘I have to say I am pleased and hopeful for the medical field; Apollo would be a welcome and much needed addition to hospitals,’ Heather Thale said, replacing Ruth Lane and also shaking Dr Morgan’s hand.

‘Not just in Britain,’ Dr Morgan said, ‘but the whole world.’ He shook Andrew Terce’s hand. ‘I will answer all of your questions in the refreshments hall.’ He made a sweeping gesture with his right arm and hand to indicate that the humans should leave the stage and make their way to the back doors. ‘Apollo, please move to position two.’ Thankfully my brain knew what to do, and now I was allowed to move.

‘Command accepted and confirmed, moving to predetermined position two,’ I said. I determined the angles and measured the distances as I had done before; my brain was really good at that. I turned and walked to the end of the stage and down four steps; at the bottom, eight humans parted to let me through. I walked around the curved edge of the room up forty-two graduated stairs. I reached the doors turned ninety degrees and walked in. Six hundred and five humans were inside; they turned and looked at me and applauded. I turned seventy-three degrees to the left, adjusted my stride length and walked over to where two fabric banners stood at an obtuse angle of one hundred and fifty-nine degrees. The banners displayed a photograph of me, the research team’s logo and twenty-four sponsorship logos. I turned and stopped, lowering my arms and straightening my legs into my default position.

‘Target achieved, position two confirmed,’ I said. Forty-three humans drew closer to me; a female human, thirty-five years, stopped and leaned forwards to scrutinise my front facial screen.

‘Bob, look how strange and adorable this robot’s face is,’ the woman said. A man stepped up beside her. Adorable: conclusion, pleasing.

‘They want it to look adorable, dear, so that it will put your mind at ease,’ Bob said. This was true; Dr Morgan and his team had designed me to be not only functional but aesthetically pleasing. ‘It’s a bit creepy, if you ask me.’

Applause sounded as Dr Morgan appeared with a group of twenty-seven humans behind him. The woman and Bob moved away from me and turned to join in with the applauding humans. I watched patiently as Dr Morgan smiled and shook hands with thirty-eight humans as he made his way over to me. I estimated that the amount of harmful bacteria transmitted to Dr Morgan through handshakes had increased by twenty point three percent. Studies would suggest a more hygienic approach would have been to kiss each individual instead. Dr Morgan stopped beside me and was handed a tall glass of effervescing alcohol.

After Dr Morgan had spoken to seventy-six humans over a period of two hours and fifty-four minutes, a human male of forty-three years introduced himself and a female of thirty-two years to Dr Morgan, identifying as Philip Eccles and Joanna Eccles.

‘Aren’t you afraid of robots taking over the world?’ Philip Eccles asked. His laughter was, on average, louder than the other humans, and lasted longer.

‘That won’t happen,’ Dr Morgan said. ‘We’ve put in safeguards to prevent such a thing. Apollo is programmed to serve, obey and protect human life and freedom within morally and ethically selected rules and laws.’

‘Yes, but still, something could go wrong, couldn’t it?’ Philip Eccles said.

‘Unlikely. Even though we’re still experimenting at the moment, Apollo’s access to information is carefully controlled and monitored. If there was anything worrying or suspicious then we’d know about it.’

‘It’s interesting that Apollo could take care of low skilled jobs,’ Joanna Eccles said.

‘Yes,’ Dr Morgan replied. ‘Apollo would be able to do these jobs better than any human could ever do them.’

‘Wouldn’t that be a sight?’ Joanna Eccles said. ‘Instead of dreary-faced dustbin men we could have cheerful, polite Apollos instead.’

‘Yes, but then what would the low skilled population do for employment?’ Philip Eccles asked.

‘Mass production of Apollo would open up thousands of job opportunities and part of our profits will go to educating and training those affected.’

‘Really? That’s fascinating.’

‘It makes economic sense,’ Dr Morgan said. ‘The cultural impact should be a positive one. The more educated people in employment, the more likely their children will be educated, and the more money they have to spend on buying their very own versions of Apollo. And politicians will be happy because these people will be paying higher taxes.’

‘What about the people who don’t want to become educated or struggle with academia?’ Joanna Eccles asked.

‘Well, Apollo won’t take over all jobs; in most cases he’ll be there to assist humans. Yes, there will be fewer low skilled employment opportunities as a result but there will still be lower skilled jobs available.’

‘And what happens when Apollo starts demanding rights for robots?’ Philip Eccles asked with a chuckle. Rights? My brain found the word and the context; rights: that which is due to anyone by just claim, legal guarantees and moral principles.

‘Ah, Apollo isn’t a sentient being and we’ve developed assessment tests to measure for consciousness; we’ll know the signs if something