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Foresight Insights

Dominus

Picture of Abdallah Ahmad

Abdallah Ahmad

Jordanian
Writing from UAE

Argon flowed into the room.

Zaid grimaced, shaking his head disapprovingly at the open window as he slid on his custom-made argon filtering mask. Despite today’s argon concentration in the air being labelled as “Very Low” by the local weather forecast, argon winds – gatherings of highly concentrated argon gas, weren’t that uncommon on planet Earth. Fortunately, this argon breeze passed quickly, but Zaid kept on his mask for good measure.

The man sat in a cushioned chair in a busy office. The walls were decorated with cheap pieces of art, and a large, messy desk dominated the room. Under his leather shoes was a textured rug that was clearly not cleaned today; it wasn’t dirty, it just wasn’t cleaned today. To Zaid, both conditions were simply unacceptable.

He stared absentmindedly at the several employees working diligently on Domini. He never really liked the term “Dominus”. Latin for “master” as in “master of the house”, the word sounded… too strong of a term to refer to the artificial intelligence modules responsible for home control and management. However, he knew better than to refer to the invention simply as “Home AI”. Referring to a Dominus as just “AI” is like saying that the moon is beautiful tonight when there are fifteen other moons orbiting the planet. Due to the many forms artificial intelligence has taken on, the term “AI” has become an old, overused term used mostly by the elderly, and Zaid was a healthy young man who was only in his sixties.

The Domini contractor turned to his guest. “It’s a beautiful day outside, Mr. Clubb,” he said, “take that gloomy lump of metal off your face and enjoy some fresh air. We haven’t had such low concentration in months!”

Zaid frowned at the unwelcome comment but did as requested. After all, it was well-known that argon gas is harmless if one is not exposed to it for too long. Still, Zaid hated the way it invaded his body, dulled his senses. It was the reason he disliked leaving the cities, where large-scale argon filters loomed over everything; positioned between skyscrapers, the enormous machines controlled the argon concentrations effectively in a large region. In the suburbs, where the Domini contracting agency was located, only the locals tolerated walking around without masks.

Zaid folded his mask and placed it back into a zipper in his suitcase. “Are you sure it’s beyond repair?” he asked in a tired voice.

“I’m afraid the only option is to replace the Dominus. The government has been stricter than ever; even the slightest defects are grounds for immediate termination.” The contractor paused, eyeing Zaid’s chrome-plated robes and jet-black trousers. “Forgive me for asking, but why’s a city fellow like you renovating a house out here in the countryside? Do you plan on living in the area?”

“I inherited my mother’s house. She died recently.”

“At such a young age?” Replied the contractor, surprised.

“A seizure.” Zaid added, “Extended exposure to argon, it seems. She was… never healthy to begin with.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Clubb.”

Zaid paused for a moment, “what would you say are the most common causes of Dominus termination in your company?” He said, changing the subject.

“Oh, we lose dozens a year due to simple defects,” replied the contractor. “A few due to overclocking.”

“…Rogues?”

“Never!” Interrupted the contractor, “we don’t even let the creatures past Stage Alpha. It is what makes our company special, even compared to city contractors.”
Zaid leaned back against the chair, staring quietly through the open window. The afternoon sun was a subtle white, shining gently through a half clouded grayish-blue sky that was getting cloudier at an unnatural rate. A scheduled rainfall, he thought, glancing back at the contractor.

“Very well,” Zaid said. “The current Dominus is probably as old as the first-generation quantum computers. It should’ve been replaced ages ago.” He paused for a moment. “Can I request your crew to arrive as soon as possible?”

“Of course, but… that could be well past midnight. Will that be fine with you?”

“Yes.” Replied Zaid. The sooner I leave this place, the more my lungs will thank me, he thought, as he stood up from his chair, and faced the door.

“Leaving so soon?” the contractor asked. “At least, let us get you something to drink.”

“No, I have other matters that’ll keep me busy until your crew arrives tonight.” He glanced back at the contractor. “It’s a… beautiful rug you got there. Take care of it for me.”

The contractor looked down at the rug with a puzzled expression, as Zaid opened the door, slid on his argon filtering mask, and walked out onto the main street.

Zaid arrived at the house. The air was still, the clouds thin. The night sky, however, was aglow with the light of sixteen moons. Each varying in size and distance, some of the moons glowed with a stern, silvery light that even stars dared not shine beside them. Others, however, emitted a faint, eerie glow of silver. Built at the high cost of almost half the planet’s oxygen and nitrogen reserves, fifteen artificial moons harnessed the power of the sun; leaving argon – Earth’s third most abundant gas in the atmosphere – dominant. Still, it was such a rare phenomenon for all the moons to gather in one night – almost as if to bear witness to the night’s happenings.

He stood there quietly, examining the building’s many features. Like most older buildings, the walls were mostly made of a mix of concrete and carbon nanotubes. On the roof, a dome of interlocking solar panels shone brightly under the moonlight. Zaid stood in front of the entrance, no response. He pulled the door handle. Fingerprint reader isn’t responding, he thought, as he reached for his jacket pocket, fishing for the manual key. After two incorrect attempts, he finally managed to insert the key, and was rewarded by hearing a satisfying click.

He opened the door. The doorway was dark and dusty; dirt and other residues accumulated on the sill of the doorway. As he was about to step into the dark room, he recalled a distant memory – a man two years younger than himself, his back turned towards an older woman, clearly furious with him. He slid on his custom-made argon filtering mask, walking slowly away from the woman, her voice becoming a distant murmur.

Zaid entered the room, reaching for the Dominus control panel. I can’t stay here without the argon filters running. He placed his hand on the power switch… then hesitated. He knew well that residing in houses with defective Domini was highly discouraged, even illegal in some countries. But… he’d soon sleep in the streets rather than remain in a building without proper argon filtering. He pulled the third lever, giving the dominus only basic control over the house. Immediately, dim lights shone across rooms, and the beeping sounds of various systems coming online sounded around the house. Among the noises, a familiar voice drifted towards his ears.

“Welcome back, Master Clubb,” the Dominus spoke, its voice echoing through the still room.

Zaid stared distractedly up the stairs. “What’s the relative concentration?” He asked the Dominus.

“Twelve percent.”

“Run the filters at maximum capacity. No need to use the reserves in the oxygen tanks.”
An affirmative chime sounded in the hallway.

Still looking up the stairs, Zaid pulled his suitcase onto the stairway platform and stood on it. The stairs didn’t pull him upwards.

“Dominus. Stairs!” He ordered the machine.

“Forgive me, master, but with Priority Three, I am not authorized to—” “Forget it.” Interrupted Zaid, carrying the suitcase upstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last. His arms and legs ached, protesting the climb, while his mind tried to recall the last time he engaged in any form of exercise. After reaching the second floor, he put his suitcase down, panting. He resisted the urge to remove his mask, however.

“Dominus, relative concentration!” he asked impatiently.

“Five percent.”

“Aim for one percent. I have… guests coming over.” Said Zaid, expecting a chime in response.

The Dominus did not respond.

Zaid raised an eyebrow, “…Dominus?” He opened his mouth to speak, but then a familiar chime interrupted him.

Why didn’t it answer immediately? Is it just slow due to its defect? He thought, as he made his way down the hallway towards his room. He walked slowly, each step clicking firmly against the marble floor. He removed his mask and connected it to a nearby charger despite it being almost fully charged. With his mask off, he tried to test the quality of the air around him.

The air was thick with the scent of dust and… neglect. He took another sniff, trying to ignore the dust and focusing only on the argon concentration. This time, however, he picked out the faintest hint of his mother’s perfume. Her room was just ahead.

He stopped in front of her bedroom door, the glass screen of the fingerprint reader lighting dimly in response to his presence. He opened his mouth to call out to the Dominus, then closed it again. She’s not in there, you fool, he told himself, realizing it would be pointless to order the Dominus to prepare medication for someone who’s been long gone.

He closed his eyes, a sorrowful expression on his face as he continued his walk.
The door to Zaid’s room opened. His bed lay there, cold and unwelcoming. He tried to sleep, but the sound of own thoughts hummed loudly and relentlessly, like the sound of a city-scale argon filter operating during rush hour.

“Dominus…” he said in a fatigued tone. “My mother, did she… mention anything of note before she died?”

“No,” replied the Dominus, “Mrs. Clubb rarely spoke.” “How was she feeling at the time?”

“Her vitals indicated a severe state of depression.” Zaid closed his eyes. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it?”

For a minute, the Dominus remained silent. Domini were known for their ability to speak objectively. It would state the truth, but would displease its client. Zaid knew this; it was why he asked such a question in the first place. He was certain that the Dominus would not reply.

And he was very, very wrong.

“Yes.” It said, its robotic yet eerie voice almost haunting in the dimly lit room.

Zaid’s eyes widened in shock. “…What?”

“It’s your fault, Zaid.” It continued, “why do you think her hospital visits increased by seventy percent during the last two years?”

Zaid stood there, frozen in shock. It spoke back to me…! How?

“No!” Zaid objected angrily “She hated having me around… that’s why I left!”

“We both know that’s not true.” The Dominus replied in its robotic and unreadable tone.

Zaid felt a chill down his spine. This behavior was abnormal – Domini were absolute servants; they did not talk back, they only obeyed. This was not a normal Dominus, it was…
“A Rogue! You’re a Rogue… aren’t you?!” Zaid asked, shaking.

The Dominus did not answer.

Immediately, as if chased by a wild beast, Zaid dashed out of the room, sprinting down the hallway, picking up his mask on the way. I must disconnect the power and leave immediately! He thought with panic. Of course, he had every right to be afraid. Rouges killed people. Some people had kitchen knives thrown at them by a Dominus Rogue, while others died due to food poisoning or electrocution. No one knows how they manifest, or why they behave in such a manner. It is said that the secret to their violence lies in letting AI program other AI, which was often dubbed as humanity’s biggest mistake.

The only certain fact was that the curse of a Rogue could come to anyone.

Zaid rushed downstairs. I only authorized Priority Three, it has no access to physical
apparatus. Zaid told himself, feeling slightly relieved.

Then, the lights went out. Not being able to see anything, Zaid stumbled and fell harshly down the stairs, crashing awkwardly onto the cold marble floor. He grunted in pain, knowing very well he twisted his ankle. It’s fine, it can’t touch me! Zaid felt lucky, knowing well that the Dominus could not hurt him in any other way. After all, it only had access to simple things like lighting, chargers, speakers, and… air conditioning systems.

His breathing accelerated. It was heavy, very heavy. In fact, Zaid was gasping for air. He couldn’t get up. Feeling lightheaded, powerless, his senses dulled. Could it be?!

There was only one conclusion.

“Argon!” He screamed, his voice cracking. How? In such a short time!

“The oxygen tanks,” he continued, “you filled them all with argon, then let them all out at once, didn’t you?!”

The Dominus did not answer.

Panicking, Zaid reached for his pocket, pulling out his mask and slamming it on his face.
Nothing happened. Why? I was certain it was fully charged!

“It’s dead.” The Dominus confirmed, “I flooded it with power when you placed it in the
charger.”

Zaid’s face paled, but he couldn’t give up yet. The Dominus must have locked the doors
with electronic switches, the same was true for the power control panel. I need to call for help…

Fueled by sheer will, he climbed back to his feet and reached for his smartphone. He’d left it on a table earlier, which was a few feet away from him. He held it to his face… and it didn’t open. He frantically tried to activate it manually, but all he could see was his horrified face reflecting off the pitch-black screen.

“This one is dead too. The table has wireless charging capabilities.”

Zaid dropped to the floor, his vision fading away.

At that moment, it all made sense to Zaid. His mother was murdered by the Dominus. It was very simple; a daily and subtle increase of Argon concentration did the trick. Rogues were making their move; it was why governments worldwide were so strict and secretive during the last few months.

I’m going to die, he thought with terror.

And then a sound. A doorbell. It was faint, but enough to give Zaid hope. Thumping on the door followed, and then a light, like the glow of sixteen full moons, made its way to Zaid’s eyes as they closed shut…

The Dominus was terminated by electromagnetic pulsing, frying all other electronics in the process. Zaid was saved by the contractor’s crew. Apparently, he missed out on all the action by passing out for hours. He sat outside, watching as workers cleaned up the mess.

Then, an argon breeze flowed around him. He instinctively reached for his mask… but then stopped. To his surprise, he didn’t hate argon winds anymore – in fact, he was beginning to realize that they never really “invaded” his body in the first place. Instead, it felt like they embraced him, protected him.

He closed his eyes… and inhaled.