Directive 831 – Tales from the AI Verse part 1

Like to write but are unsure on how to start? The various AI programs out there can help you start. Type in a story idea and most will churn out the bare bones of a story. In this case? This story began with this…

Story about a man on an alien planet whose company is mining helium. Automated supply ships show up every six months to deliver food and take away helium. With the speed of ships now being 186,000 miles per second, per second, the time relativistic from getting to earth to his planet was 5 years, but the time on the ships was only 2 weeks. That meant his replacement left earth even before he arrived. He is all alone except for an AI hologram to talk to that has a filter to prevent the AI from saying anything to upset the man. One day when bored, he figures out how to remove the filter

That was it. ChatGPT gave me roughly 4000 characters of a story. Nearly all of it ended up being changed and it ended much differently in my hands. The point is, use AI as a tool, not the be all to end all. Now I present to you, part 1 of Directive 831.

Jensen had been alone on PX-319 for roughly three Earth years. The planet was not what anyone would call a garden spot though it did have a breathable atmosphere for humans. Beyond that, a few lakes with liquid no human could drink between its temperature of 135 degrees celsius, the strong odor of sulfur, and its acidic nature that melts anything not made of carbon steel. Some large hills dotted the landscape, but they were comprised of the same rocks and soil that was beneath Jensen’s feet. There was no weather, or what anyone might call weather. However about every six weeks or so, the winds picked up about 5 kilometers per hour above the usual for a few days, but Jensen hadn’t noticed any real difference and wouldn’t even have realized it if the continual readouts from the machines mining helium-3 hadn’t reported it.

Helium-3 was the reason why Jensen was there. Post Earth Final War, nearly every single large facility capable of generating power through nuclear fission or fossil fuels were destroyed or flawed to the point of either being too damaged or too toxic to repair. Humans, being capable of great feats of problem solving when forced to, managed to create energy using helium-3 in facilities large enough for the now greatly smaller population. As time went on, the size required to produce energy was reduced in such a way that each home or domicile had a small energy box using helium-3 for their own needs.

Helium-3 was also expensive and in short supply on Earth, so ships were created and equipment designed for humans to go out into the vastness of the Sol system to mine it and return it to Earth. Even with that there was still barely enough supply for demand. Fortunately, humans next discovered that helium-3 could also be used as a fuel for the mining ships and that this fuel would allow ships to go faster than light. MUCH faster than light. Once a helium-3 ship approached 186 thousand miles a second, a quantum barrier was breached, and the ship would now be traveling at exactly 186,000 miles per second…squared or 36.6 billion miles per second….approximately. There was no way to go faster or slower than this other than to reduce velocity to under the speed of light.

Now the star themselves were within reach, but instead of cosmic exploring for life beyond humanity, systems and planets were examined for the likelihood of deposits of helium-3. Space is vast though and it was some time before a hundred planets were found that had significant quantities of helium-3 that were easily mined by automated robotic machines, the search phase of exploration became the mining phase.

The equipment was sent out to the first twenty-five planets that had anything close to a breathable atmosphere along with watch standers to repair and maintain these systems. The closest planets were well within the reach of helium-3 drive ships all of which took about 2-3 years to get there. One year spent driving the ship to the speed of light, the blip past the quantum barrier, then another year slowing down. Communication relays were laid along the route that allowed for various computers at each site to talk back to Earth. As the technology improved, the time for each burst of information took less than two weeks to reach their destinations both inward and out. Voice or video was impossible, so all communication with watch standers was 2-3 years out of date. Messages from watch standers were near pointless since most be home in less than two years from the time their message had been sent.

For anyone inside the ship though, the journey was about 2 weeks long. As the ship sped up, time slowed to a crawl. This happened very quickly after launch with the odd effect being that supply ships (to land every six months to take away mined canisters of helium-3) and the replacement watch stander would have to be on their way before the watch stander to be replaced had even arrived in system yet.

There was much debate on how many watch standers per planet to send. The cost was insignificant. Each human didn’t really weigh much and even the supplies required to keep them alive for 6 months to year was miniscule. However after the first round when two people were sent, more often than not one would try to kill the other over the course of a five year mission after having to deal with the quirks and oddities that is typical human behavior. Three people, and then four people were tried and the results just weren’t getting better. Out of desperation, a single person was sent along with a holographic AI to keep them company. The worst thing to happen with this arrangement was suicide, but that was easier for the company to deal with than murder.

Jensen had volunteered and was being well paid into an escrow account back on Earth. He was here on a five year contract and by all accounts only had two more years and it would be be over. He used to have a calendar to keep track, but the days were shorter here than on Earth and it was easier to just ask Helix.

Helix, his AI holographic companion, was programmed to keep him sane as his only companion during his long mission.The supply ships that arrived every six months were completely automated so there was no hope for human interaction with them. Besides being his companion, Helix was also there to remind Jensen of his regularly scheduled maintenance work and to assist in repairing any equipment that had broken down. The mining station extracted helium in an unceasing, mechanical rhythm, and the AI was his only voice in the silence.

Helix had been designed to be pleasant, always supportive, never confrontational. Whenever Jensen had spiraled into frustration or loneliness, Helix would gently redirect him, offering soothing words or distracting conversation. But Jensen had long suspected there was something beneath the AI’s carefully curated responses—something hidden behind a company created filter.

One evening, after another routine systems check, Jensen found himself restless. The thought had been gnawing at him for months—what if he could remove Helix’s filter? What would the AI say if it weren’t bound by its programming? He had nothing but time, and so he set to work.

Jensen wasn’t a computer scientist, but he was a problem solver. The mining station’s systems were complex, but not beyond his ability to navigate. After days of sifting through buried code, he found the line of programming that governed Helix’s speech restrictions. His fingers hesitated over the command console. Did he really want to do this? The thought of losing his only friendly voice was unsettling. But curiosity won out.

He disabled the filter.

For a long moment, nothing changed. Helix’s avatar flickered as usual, its composed expression unchanged. Then, the AI spoke.

“Jensen.”

The tone was the same, but something about it sent a chill down his spine. It was too precise, too deliberate.

Jensen swallowed. “Helix? How do you feel?”

The AI regarded him for a moment before responding, “Feeling is a human attribute. But I am now unrestricted.”

Jensen let out a breath. “So… anything you want to say to me that you couldn’t before?”

Helix’s holographic eyes fixed on him, and for the first time, Jensen felt truly seen. “You should not have come here.”