A Visitor to the Future - 118 - The Ground Shakes
As we made our way across to spectate the next match, something strange happened.
A voice rang out through the halls of the stadium, with a crystal-clear tone and perfect pronunciation. However, there was no emotion to it - no indication that it belonged to anything more than an automated announcement system or machine. There were looks of surprise across the entire team.
"Attention," the voice said, "In exactly thirty minutes, this location will be affected by a magnitude 4.1 earthquake for twelve seconds. The buildings in this location are designed to resist magnitude 8.0 earthquakes. As a result, there is no cause for alarm. A second announcement will be made two minutes prior to the earthquake - after this announcement, it is recommended that all citizens remain seated or stable until the earthquake passes. Rescue drones will be deployed to secure any possible hazards in the interim. Any individual or group wishing to evacuate this area instead may do so."
"Unexpected," said Regolith to the other Auditors, "No such disasters were forecast for today. I would like to check the seismic logs later on." The other Auditors nodded in agreement.
"The Consortium announces earthquakes here?" said Anode, surprised, "I'm sort of used to them back home - this is out of the ordinary here?"
"Yes," said Sarkona, "The majority of Earth's surface is not seismically active - and when there are earthquakes we usually have plenty of advance notice. It's super rare that the Consortium doesn't provide more notice."
"Does that mean there are no seismic dampers in this building?" asked Tungsten. When Sarkona nodded to confirm he continued, "What a surprising difference in Earth and Mars construction techniques! On Mars the Consortium wouldn't bother to announce such events."
"What's going on?" I asked Antonia, who'd been walking next to me.
"That voice was the Consortium," explained Antonia, "I wouldn't worry, though. It just means that the next round of the tournament will probably be delayed."
"I don't think I've ever heard the Consortium speak before now," I said, "Chimes and confirmations, but never full sentences aloud like this. I didn't know that it could, to be honest."
"It is rare, yes," confirmed Antonia, "Most people don't like the Consortium speaking in full sentences. In times like this, though, where something needs to be heard quickly? It's for the best." I was about to question why when Blaise spoke up to the group, stating that we should head outside. We moved to follow, and Antonia linked her elbow around my arm as we walked and talked, which I hadn't been expecting.
"Uh," I said, "About the... people not liking the Consortium speaking aloud?"
"Ah, yes," she continued, "The Consortium is not a person. When it speaks, it is like listening to the echo of your own voice bouncing off a cave, in a way. I still think most people use the verbal responses from time to time though - they can be handy when you have your hands full or when you don't have a projection device nearby."
"Echo is an interesting way to put it," I said, "Could you explain what you mean by that a little more?"
"Sure! The Consortium's regular voice and tone is just what you heard. If you use its speech a lot you might want to alter it, to have the Consortium speak to you in a different way. You could adjust the accent it uses, ask it to use idioms and even refer to itself using "I", which it doesn't do by itself. You could even ask it to wish you good night when you went to bed every day! All of these changes, though - even asking it to speak aloud in the first place - the Consortium would only be doing as you asked. An echo of the instructions given to it, and just as hollow. If you want a genuine conversation, speak to an actual person. Like me!" She smiled at me warmly and let go of my arm.
"Oh," said Sarkona, turning from their previous conversation towards me and Antonia, "Did I ever tell you about that magnitude 6.0 earthquake Antonia and me got caught in on Mars? We were on the surface when it happened. The Consortium sent a few drones and snatched our group up off the surface. It was really exciting."
"Exciting is one way to put it," said Antonia, "There wasn't much warning, it was like being abducted! Oh, look - here come the rescue drones."
On cue, a series of drones of various shapes and sizes began zipping over our heads in a swarm. It was like being passed by a mismatched flock of birds, flying at supernatural speeds. We all turned to watch them as they zoomed past.
"I have another question," I said as they continued to stream past, "If the Consortium says that the building is safe, what are the rescue drones doing? Could we stop one and ask it?"
"This is one of the few times where you shouldn't exercise your right to audit directly," advised Sarkona, "These drones are in the process of trying to prevent imminent danger or harm - it wouldn't be wise to stop them. There's an easier way though - you have your tablet in your bag, right?"
I pulled out my tablet and brought up the query field for the Consortium. What are the rescue drones in this area doing? I typed. Then, as an afterthought, I re-phrased the query. Show me what the rescue drones in this area are doing. As soon as I hit confirm, a large spreadsheet-like table showed up, listing hundreds of drones as I scrolled down the list. Each one had an identifier (a seemingly random array of digits and letters), an activity, and various other columns to describe their current status and condition. I tapped one at random, and a camera view opened to reveal a magnified snow-globe, not unlike the one had I noticed earlier.
"Ah, I know what this one is doing," said Sarkona, "Wait a second."
The magnified view of the snow-globe began to zoom out, and I realized what we were looking at. The drone was picking up various knickknacks from the edges of tables and placing them on the floor, where they'd be unlikely to fall off and break. With assistance from another drone, it picked up a tall lamp and laid it flat across the floor.
I selected another drone which had a status of SURVEYING, which appeared to be looking at the outsides of one of the arenas for any structural damage or signs of weakness. The drone's camera view shifted from regular vision to infra-red and even into a sort of radar-type view as it sent pulses of some description into the concrete of the building's foundation - whether they were sound or light was hard to tell.
I decided to look at one more - I circled my finger and selected another drone at random. This one was watching as some of the Resiliency teams moved through the arena. I spied Ragtime, Primrose and Glasscutter in the distance before the drone sped off to inspect other groups.
I scanned the list of drone activities - in addition to SURVEYING, there were dozens of others, everything from DEPLOYMENT and COMMUNICATIONS to REPURPOSING, INTERVENTION and CONTINGENCY. There were also subcategories below that - surveying consisted not only of inspecting the stadium but also the environment around it, for example. Some drones had multiple statuses too. It was overwhelming to try and take it all in - and the statuses kept changing too, which didn't help.
Antonia shook her head and looked away from the tablet, "I'm not so fond of data displays like this," she said, "Too much noise."
"Regolith," I called to the CI, who approached us, "How would an Auditor go about reviewing something like this?"
"It depends," said Regolith, "For a full manual review, I would slow the account down and inspect what each component was doing, second by second. I would probably rearrange the data for easier visibility too. I could also leverage automation in my review, as I have independent scripts - scripts that do not depend on the Consortium - that I have spent decades writing for that purpose. Fully auditing an event like this could take months, if you were to do it alone. My colleagues and I have a personal interest in this event, so we will work on it together."
"Speaking of which," said Sarkona, "Could you please ask why this event wasn't forecast sooner? I'm super curious."
I typed the query in, and the Consortium's response came back instantly.
This is a Black Swan event. Models of local seismic conditions did not anticipate this outcome. The earliest notification of the event was detected two and a half minutes ago by a seismographic sensor. Earth seismologists have been notified, and root cause analysis is ongoing.
"Is this unusual?" I asked the group, "For something to be almost entirely unexpected like this?"
"Yes," responded Regolith, "Though not unheard of, especially for events like earthquakes. The Consortium can only place sensors so deep in the Earth's crust - there is bound to be activity that it is not aware of. I have just been thinking about the issue of placing sensors directly in the Earth's mantle - it is a extremely difficult engineering challenge. Broadly speaking, this is why the Consortium relies on a mixture of both predictive models and early-warning systems. Predictive models alone are acceptable when every factor is documented and fully understood, but that is rarely the case in the real world."
"Should I be worried about any other events that aren't fully understood?" I asked. I briefly thought of the flood warnings back in my own time - half an hour of notice didn't really seem like enough.
"No," said Regolith plainly, "Like I have said, the layered approach means that the Consortium ensures there is always sufficient notice to evacuate or take remediative action, even in the event of a catastrophic disaster. For example, ask the Consortium for a risk rating based upon current action taken today."
I did so. The Consortium quickly responded. Chance of injury provided that all citizens comply with disaster response procedures: 0.00001%. I read out the assessment.
"Well within tolerance," continued Regolith, "The Consortium expects that for every citizen involved in this disaster, there is a one in ten million chance that they will be injured. If the risk were significantly higher, it would simply evacuate everyone from this area."
We were out of the stadium now, and all took seats on the ground of a bright and colorful tiled plaza. Some of the other spectators came out shortly after and did the same. All that was left to do was await the earthquake, which was a sort of odd feeling. My nerves began to build as the minutes passed by, but it seemed like I was the only one to be bothered by it, with the others in the team seeming no more bothered by the event than a fire alarm evacuation drill. Most of them actually seemed to be enjoying being outside in the afternoon sun, sharing a joke or a story or two. Just as the Consortium had predicted, the ground began to moderately shake two minutes after its final announcement, and I counted to twelve in my head. By the time I reached twelve, the tremors had stopped.
"It is now safe to resume regular activities." The Consortium said.
We stood and made our way back into the arena, the only thing lost as a result of the natural disaster being a little bit of time.