Terrarium

Isaac saw the peasant running towards his horse before he even saw the village.  He had smelled their hearths since he’d left his camp at dawn’s light, and traveled towards it.  The man running towards him was squat, broad-shouldered, and had hands like giant shovels.  Isaac continued on at a trot on the back of his horse, warily watching as the peasant ran towards him shouting and waving.

“My good knight, good sir, please wait.”  The peasant shouted as he closed the distance, panting to catch his breath.  “Sir, please.”

“Go on, good man.  What ails you?”  Says Isaac, knowing the answer.  He’d done this dance twice a year for the last twenty, and he’d watched his father do it for years before.

“Sir, the gates of hell have opened on our lands.  A mighty, winged beast flies our skies and eats our cattle.  Its leathery wings are wide enough to blot out the sun, and fire shoots from its mouth.  My dear sir, you must save our people, I beseech you.”  The man had fallen on his knees, imploring and crying.  He continued, but the words were indecipherable between the wails.  Isaac’s horse snorted uncomfortably, and backed away from the man.

Isaac sighed, and swinging himself out of the saddle he stood next to the man.  Putting a hand on his shoulder he says;  “Please man, that’s enough.  Steel yourself.”  The man nearly immediately stopped crying, and stood up.  His face was dry.  Everyone plays their part, Isaac thought.  He averted his eyes, it was too depressing to look at their faces for long.

“Thank you good knight, you have been sent by the heavens to aid us in our time of need.  What name can I herald back to our village as the savior of our land?”

“You may call me Isaac.”

“Why, Sir Isaac!  Stories of your exploits–”

“Stop, it’s just Isaac.” He says, raising his hand.  “Don’t recount stories to me, I don’t want to hear them.  Which way to your village, man?  We’ll discuss your beast on the way.”  Isaac grabbed the reins to his horse, and followed the man back in the direction he had run from.  

The sun was setting as they crested the final hill; a village sat in the valley below them.  It was modestly sized, with ten homes built along a main path.  Sheep, cows, and chickens intermingled at the back of every house, and grain was planted in long rows on the opposite hillside.  A large inn was built at the center of the village, and the comforting smell of cooked meat wafted up to them.

“Take me to your inn, good man.  I need hay for my horse, a strong ale for my constitution, and a bed for the night.”

–

A beer in hand, and several sloshing in his belly, Isaac finally looked up from his plate of smoked meat and looked around the inn.  It was still early enough to be full of townsfolk; a hum of conversation filled the air.  He had taken a seat at the back of the large, open room from which he could observe the villagers.  He leaned back against the rough hewn timber wall behind him and assessed them.

He forced his eyes to focus hard, and staring at their faces he began to count under his breath.  

“One, two, three – no wait, that one’s the same as two.  Ahh there’s three, and four over in the corner… and where is the last one.  There you are, behind the bar, that makes five.”  Isaac sighed, and closed his eyes.  Every village it’s the same, what the hell is happening here.

He had first noticed it at the end of the last winter, and since then had confirmed it in every village he visited.  There were only five faces, and it was the same five faces, for all the peasants.  Now they might be differentiated by a beard, or a different hair color, but it was the same basic five faces for all of them.  Even between the men and women, they were the same but with slightly shifted cheekbones and chin widths.

Digging through his pack he pulled out a slim, leather bound journal.  He undid the strap that bound it, and flipping through it compared sketches of faces to those around him.  The exact same as everywhere else, nothing new here.  Isaac sighed, trying to let go of the weight of a universe he didn’t recognize, and drank his beer.

A man was moving over to his table from the crowd, so Isaac put his notebook away and watched him approach.  

“My good knight, I hear you’ve come to save us from this terrible demon that is ravaging our land” The man said.  He had a number two face, marked by the protruding forehead, square jaw, and wide set eyes.

“Sit friend, and tell me about this monster.  I will go to him tomorrow, and must hear what manner of foe I face.”

“My good sir, he is dreadful.  His wings are wider than a house when spread, and he stands at a height of three horses.  He belches flame that burns hotter than a forge, and his claws are near as long as my forearm.  I have seen one other dragon in my life, the last when I was only a boy, and this one is dreadful by comparison to the last.  You are indeed a brave soul to face off with such a creature.”

Variations of this description were used everytime Isaac encountered a new dragon.  It’s funny he had never caught on as a boy, when he followed his father around as his dutiful squire.  Each new town was full of excitement and fresh faces, each dragon an epic battle.  He looked up to him so much then, but now he was unsure.  Had it been a farce that entire time?

Isaac decided to take a different approach.  “My good man, tell me what harms it has done to your village.”

“Why, it grazes on our cattle and terrifies our villagers!”

“But it hasn’t harmed any of your villagers?  Or used that fiery breath, hot as a forge, to burn down your homes?  How many cattle has it eaten?”

“Only two sheep so far my liege, but I swear this menace will not stop until we’re all dead and our village a ruin!”

“Only two?”  Isaac said incredulously, “Surely wolves do worse to your flocks, and yet you manage them on your own.  It sounds like this beast's bark is worse than its bite.”

“My good sir, you would not say such things if you had seen this beast!  I promise, it is a monster truly worthy of your talent and steel!” 

“I’ll find out tomorrow, either way.  Now leave me be to finish my meal; I must finish this and get some rest.”

“Thank you, good knight.  We will sing of your deeds every night!”  The man said as he stood up from the rough wooden table, and walked back to the crowd of villagers.

–

Three months back, Isaac had spotted a caravan of wagons on the road and decided to follow it.  The main enclosed wagon was the biggest he had ever seen, it required four mules alone to pull it down the bumpy path.  A squadron of ten guards surrounded the caravan, their flawless armor gleamed in the sunlight.  Two bannermen carried the sigil of Lord Henry, an eagle eating a serpent, on maroon flags at the front.  Isaac knew Lord Henry’s castle was a week’s hard ride to the north of here, so these men had been out for some time.  

Technically, Isaac was a vassal of Lord Henry’s, but he had never met the man or been into the castle.  His knighting ceremony had been done at the gates of the castle, where one of the Lord’s advisors had met him and his father, and after touching a sword to his shoulders had offered him a new set of armor.  As with all knights of the land, his only task was to continually patrol the kingdom and keep it safe from man and beast.

At night, he camped a distance away from the caravan and observed them.  In the glow of the firelight from their camp, he watched a man approach the large, enclosed wagon and throw several hunks of meat from the fire in between the metal bars at the back.  The noise that followed was the unmistakable sound of something much larger than you eating.  The hairs stood up on Isaac’s neck as he crouched in the tall grass, avoiding being seen by the night watch.  Something strange was happening here, and he was duty bound to find its conclusion.

After a short journey the next morning, the caravan stopped at the mouth of a large cave.  The wagon was maneuvered so that the metal grating pointed towards the cave, and with the same man from the night before standing behind it, the grate was swung open.  

A massive head poked out, large as a horse’s and gleaming black in the sunlight.  Isaac crouched lower down.  A long neck slithered out, followed by the massive body, leathery wings, and pointed tail of an obsidian dragon.  Isaac gripped his sword, ready to defend these men from the beast, but he noted that none of the guards paid it any attention.  They sat around resting, halberds leaning against the wagon or on the ground.  The man that stood in front of the cave raised his hand, Isaac thought he saw a smile on his face.

The terrible beast rushed forward, its head tucked low and tail swishing.  It galloped on legs twice as wide as his horse, the ground rumbled underneath Isaac from the energy and the guard’s halberds crashed to the ground, breaking their reverie.  The dragon tucked its head, and then slowing down, pressed the top of it into the man’s outstretched hand.  The man chuckled joyously, and pet the back of the dragon’s neck as its hind leg kicked rhythmically against the ground.  Isaac’s mouth hung open, his world crashing down.

These monsters, these beasts that I’ve hunted and slaughtered, they’re friendly to humans.  More than friendly, this one looks like a pet!  He thought, as he watched the man sit down and the beast lay its fearsome head in his lap.  What witchcraft is this?  How can this be?  If these beasts are tame, what is the damn point of the charade?

As Isaac watched and thought on this, hidden in a patch of high grass overlooking the cave.  He watched as the man spoke to the dragon, and pointed to the cave.  He watched as the beast turned around and moved into the cave, a sadness in its bearing.  He watched as the caravan packed up, got back into formation, and left on the return journey home.  

Isaac kept sitting in that tall grass until night time, and as the setting sun crested the hills he realized that he had been to this same cave before.  He recognized it from several years prior, when as a young knight he had slain a terrible dragon that was terrorizing a village across the valley.

In a flash, Isaac saw it all connect.  Lord Henry trains these dragons, Lord Henry creates fear in the peasants, and then Lord Henry hires brave knights to dispatch them.  The peasants feel undying gratitude towards the knights, the knights rise up on the heroic vanquishing of a foe, and Lord Henry is revered for employing such brave men.  New dragons are let loose in different areas, new peasants are saved by the knights, and the cycle continues.  It gives us all purpose and direction, but is ultimately meaningless.

Standing up, Isaac spat in the dirt, dusted off his leather jerkin, and walked back over the hillside to find his horse.

–

Isaac thought over this encounter as he approached another cave.  He’d done this countless times; the villager’s point him towards a cave, he finds the dragon and they fight, he slays the beast and everyone cheers.  But now, he saw it all in a different light.  He thought of the man petting the dragon, and saw that they didn’t act aggressively when he battled them, but fearfully.  They never really attacked him, but just tried to fend off his sword.  And with the realization, a great sadness had lodged in him.  There’s no glory in this, these poor beasts are just as much pawns as I am.  

His mind made up, Isaac removed his armor, his helmet, and his sword.  He set them in a pile by a stream that ran from the cave mouth, and approached the cave.  A red glow came from inside, and as he approached it grew bright; heat bellowed from the cave mouth.  Isaac raised his hand as he had seen the man do, and steeled himself.

Tentatively, a giant black head poked out of the cave shadows.  Its ears were upright, inquisitive, and after seeing his armor and sword in a pile on the ground, it approached with hesitation.  Isaac nearly ran as the great body of the Obsidian left the cave, it really was the biggest he had ever seen.  Thick, mirrored black scales covered its body, and the claws at the end of each leg really were the length of his forearm.  There was a beauty to the horror, a feline grace in the movement of the head as it approached his outstretched hand.

With a light pressure, the dragon pushed its massive head into Isaac’s hand, and he couldn’t help but smile at the friendliness of the beast.  He slowly brought his other hand up, and stroked the side of its neck as he had seen the man do.  The dragon pushed into his hand harder, and with a giant, ground-shuddering movement it plopped down on the ground and rolled halfway over.  A vibration coursed through his whole body, and he realized the dragon was purring.  Nothing had made Isaac happier in his long life, and the smile on his face deepening he also sat in the grass.  The dragon carefully set its head in his lap, its deep red eyes staring up at him.  

–

Henry practically squealed in excitement from the lab.  As he stood in the adjacent room, Charles took a sip from his first cup of coffee, checked his watch, and sighed.  How the hell is he this excited at 7:45am.

“Charles, is that you in there?  Come quick, you have to see this!” Henry yelled from the lab room.

Charles shuffled towards the lab door, grumbling under his breath.

“It’s early Henry, you know I don’t like to get excited too early.”  Charles said as he walked into the lab.  The room looked like a mix of a college dorm room and an IT office.  Computer monitors were put on every type of conceivable surface, from folding tables to a low antique dresser, wires snaked across the ground, and chairs were set adrift haphazardly on top of it all.  

Henry sat on a table at the front of the room, staring at a massive monitor that dwarfed him.  He was a monster of a man, tall and broad, and things did not dwarf him easily.  

“Charles, get over here!  One of the AI has gone rogue!”

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked closer, carefully stepping over mounds of wires that tried to grab his feet.  In his opinion, Henry had an unhealthy obsession with their AI terrarium, but it had been Henry’s idea and the published journals from the study kept the lab afloat.  Most of the other researchers checked in on it occasionally, but Henry spent a majority of each day reviewing chat logs and events like some sort of deranged father.  

The terrarium had basically started as a thought experiment; What would happen if we stuck a bunch of artificial intelligence programs into a digital environment together with a limited set of rules?  Henry had pushed for a narrative, had written a loose history for each character, created a medieval caste system, and pushed the play button.  It gave Charles the willies; everytime he watched the programs interact it seemed so damn human.

Charles stood next to Henry, over a head shorter and five stone lighter.  If a mouse could suddenly transform into a fifty year old, graying human being it would resemble Charles uncomfortably well.  His face was pointed, body slight, and he had developed a terrific squint from working with computers for too long.  His eyes now followed Henry’s outstretched hand, pointing at the massive monitor.

“Look at this one here, he’s totally off script!  It’s a good thing we’re using a somewhat unrealistic physics engine, or who knows what the hell could have happened.  I mean you know these things couldn’t actually fly in real life.”

“Wait a minute, is it flying on a dragon?  It’s actually flying a fucking dragon!”  All supposition of being tired had left Charles, he laughed heartily watching the monitor.

“I know!  I’ve been keeping an eye on him for a while, his chat logs were an outlier from standard interactions.  And then he does this!”

Charles winced at the pronouns, he really was much more comfortable if they stuck with “it” when discussing the programs.  In less exciting circumstances, he’d correct Henry.

“So where is it heading?  Any idea on motive?  I guess we start on another white paper, this is fantastic.”  Charles was already thinking about the large bonus check they received with every publication.

“No clue on motive, right now he’s just majestic to watch though.  Say, do you think this proves volition?  This could be a step towards sentience!”  

Charles sat next to Henry, and together they followed along with the program’s actions.

Sentience. Wouldn’t that be something, Charles thought.