A.I. in the Mass Effect trilogy
Part 3/4: Nemesis Mine
Harbinger of our destruction
Part One
Part Two
Part Four
Warning: spoilers follow
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Despoina is a planet of storms and graveyards. It is covered in liquid
water and the ruins of crashed spacecraft; any peace found in their
death is disturbed by the crashing of the waves and the wailing hunger
of this world's newest victims. It is not an accident that they were
torn from the skies, not only natural disaster that has left Despoina
with a small entry in the Galactic Codex. The greatest and most ancient
secret of the Milky Way lies beneath the surface, and it has protected
itself through the ages. It does not want to be disturbed, but Shepard
has fallen into its domain. This is the lair of the Leviathan. This is
the origin of the Reapers.
Ancient depiction of a Leviathan, found on Namakli
Even Dead Gods Can Dream (H.P. Lovecraft)
It
is a long way down. Down in the deep abyss, Shepard finally meets a
Leviathan. It has been something of an adventure mystery to find it, and
what she finds is the most astounding in galactic history. It has been hundreds of thousands of years, at least, since the Leviathans left their homeworld, and conquered the galaxy. All other races were enthralled to them, serving them as the pinnacle of organic evolution and the preeminent sapient race of the Milky Way. They seem to have used some form of mind control to ensure their subjects' loyalty, but cared for them and protected them, probably to ensure their continued tribute rather than a genuine care for lesser races.
It
seems they also afforded their subjects at least some degree of
independence in their civilizations, as over the ages the Leviathans
observed that the lesser creatures, below the high apex of the
Leviathans, would construct artificial intelligences to aid them in
their labors. However, these synthetic minds would always rebel
eventually, putting the Leviathans' slaves at risk. Why the Leviathans
preferred to safeguard organics over using robotic servants is unknown.
It may have been a bias towards organics, a result of the startling
abilities of the Leviathans themselves, which included travel through
space without the use of spacecraft. Perhaps there was a perverse
pleasure in using organics, a result of evolving on a world where they
could use their mind powers to enslave the other race(s). But one thing
is clear - the Leviathans could not allow their subjects to be inevitably wiped out by their synthetic creations.
Again we see the view that conflict between organics and synthetics is inevitable, though this time it is from
the perspective of a race that may never have faced a serious threat
from synthetics themselves, but has witnessed it happen to others over a supposedly very long time. This might add credence to the belief that organic life and synthetics
cannot live in peace for very long, and there does seem to be a large
body of evidence now to support this. However there is also evidence
that the Leviathans did not see things this way at first.
Their
solution was not an immediate ban on AI research, as with the Citadel
Council in humanity's time. Instead, they created a new AI themselves,
one whose duty was to protect the galaxy's organic life at any and all
costs. Perhaps the Leviathans assumed that organic-synthetic war was not
necessarily inevitable, but due to the flawed natures of the organic
creators. This, of course, could not apply to the Leviathans – they were
as gods themselves, infallible and all-powerful.
A Leviathan dwarfs Shepard in her deep-sea exploration rig
This
course proved not to be the case. The AI known as Catalyst and its own
synthetic servants examined the galaxy in depth concluded both that
synthetic-organic conflict was inevitable, and that the Leviathans
themselves were part of the problem. Perhaps if the Leviathans had paid
more consistent attention to their subjects this would not have been the
case, or it may even be the case that their slaves would work in secret
on synthetic armies to aid them in overthrowing the Leviathan dominion.
But the AI had decided to turn against the creatures that created it,
and its slaughter of them was merciless. Leviathan genetic material was
harvested and transformed into Harbinger, the first Reaper. As the last
of the Leviathans went into hiding, the first harvest had begun.
The Turn of the Worlds
The
grand error of the Leviathans would set in motion a spinning pattern of
motion that dictated the fate of every race that would ever arise the
galaxy. The Catalyst, controlling a new army of Reapers made in the
image of the Leviathans, had decided upon an ultimate solution to the
fragile peace. The answer to the old question of how to prevent
artificial intelligences from destroying their biological creators -
with the eternal threat that this could one day explode in proportion
and wipe out all organic life in the Milky Way entirely - was finally
discovered. The Reapers would wait for tens of thousands of years in the
dark space between galaxies, distantly observing as organic life
recovered in the form of new species, evolving to a state of
technological advancement and building new civilizations along the
routes of the Mass Relays that allowed fast travel across the stars.
They
watched, quietly. They observed which organics took to the stars and
created virtual intelligences. They weighed which were in danger of
creating synthetics that could and would destroy all organic life one
day. And then, when the day came that organic life began to walk
unknowingly along the knife edge that killed so many of the Leviathans'
subjects, the Reapers invaded.
Humanity
was very, very young 50,000 years ago. As we were many, many thousands
of years away from creating AIs, Earth was left in peace. The highly
advanced protheans, to whom we would later wrongly attribute many Reaper
devices in the galaxy, were not so fortunate. Their all-consuming
empire had already fought a large war against synthetics (called the
Metacon War), fulfilling the repeated and unfailing prophecy of
Catalyst. They might have learned their lesson about AIs and synthetics
for the moment, but the protheans were smart and powerful enough to one
day accidentally cause a cataclysm for the galaxy. Such a threat to
organic life could not be tolerated, and they were destroyed or
harvested, their genetic material being used to build new Reapers.
When
they were finished destroying all technologically advanced races, the
Reapers left, and our own cycle began. Humans, turians, asari,
salarians, batarians and others would evolve. The Citadel and Relays
would eventually guide the astrogeography of the new age, as the Reapers
had planned. The warnings left to us by the protheans would be ignored
until it was almost too late.
A prothean city falls to the Reapers
That
the Catalyst and AI were genuine in their beliefs is difficult to
question, even as the results are gruesome and merciless. It is easy,
however, to point out the bizarre hypocrisy of the Catalyst. It is,
after all, simultaneously proclaiming synthetic-organic conflict to be
natural even as it forces it on the galaxy. There is a perverse logic to
the cycle, though. By destroying civilizations that become advanced
enough that they could create powerful synthetics while sparing those
that are earlier in their development, they ensure that organic life
will always survive in some form, albeit in a low-tech state.
But
is the Catalyst missing the point? It, as with the geth, possesses a
fundamental aspect of sapience: recognizing that other beings are
possessing of life. The geth understood the concept of life, and wished
to protect themselves when they were in danger of extermination. While
most individual organics would concede that they place a value on one
life sacrificing a life to save other lives, which is what the Reapers
consider themselves to be doing, they also place a value on
self-preservation. The civilizations of the galaxy would largely prefer
to continue to try existing themselves, rather than falling on a sword
in the hope that it would allow others to rise and survive for a while
before they are inevitably harvested in turn. Is it selfishness to
reject a system whereby organic life is protected from organic
destruction, or is it nihilism to assume that this is the best that
organic life could hope for? The Catalyst did not bother to explain
itself to anyone before Shepard, nor did it ask for the views or
permissions of organics. It assumed that they would fight the harvest,
foolishly trying to survive even though in the long term it put all
galactic life on the line.
The
Catalyst believes there is a basic value to organic life, that it is
worth persevering even if it must be so violently controlled. But along
with that value of life are the cultural, emotional, and intellectual
values that have evolved along with us; the desire for freedom and
self-determination, to continue living our own way and to defy violent
and/or ideologically suspect attempts to take these fundamental aspects
of our existence away from us. Otherwise, what is the point of evolved
organic life? If we cannot fulfill our own needs and desires for as long
as we naturally can, then what is life? It could be argued that the
time allowed to us is enough, but organic life will always fight one or
another to keep existing. It is what we are, even when we fail at it.
East Africa, the birthplace of humanity
At
the end of Mass Effect 3, the Catalyst, after harvesting countless
lives to build its Reaper fleet, finally concedes that the cycle can no
longer continue. It sees that organic life will always fight for its
survival, and the fact that Shepard now stands ready to activate the
Crucible and end the cycle shows that it is not a permanent solution.
Perhaps it has re-evaluated the nature and role of organic life, or (and
this may be particularly poignant if both the quarian and geth fleets
are now fighting alongside the combined fleet in the space around Earth)
that there are ways, better ways, to prevent organics and synthetics
from fighting. Clearly it has failed at its task, and if this cycle is
not the final one then the next one certainly will be. Perhaps, knowing
it has failed, it now only wishes to pass on the burden given to it by
the Leviathans. Let the organics choose their own fate.
Injured,
exhausted, and with the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders, Shepard
must decide how life will progress from this point. As one who has saved
the galaxy, died for our sins, harrowed the hells of the stars,
discovered a way to our salvation and led us bravely into our
ending days, Shepard has ascended from being a hero to being a savior.
The particular form this has taken may vary based on the decisions of
the player, but at the end she (or he) stands beneath the ancient weapon
that so many cycles have worked on but never completed. The Citadel
hangs lifeless, far from its home in the Serpent Nebula. Earth is
ravaged, even as fleets of spacecraft war with the Reapers around it.
You have conversed with Leviathans, destroyed some of their terrible
creations, faced apathy and betrayal, been torn by loyalties and loves,
made friends and enemies big and small, and it has all come to this. The
future of all organic and synthetic life hinges on one last decision.
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