Operation Golden Cow

Short Story/Science Fiction: We now have bots deployed as tireless 24/7 doctors in hospitals, teachers in schools and colleges, supervisors on factory shop floors, police officers investigating cases, pilots flying commercial aircraft, journalists filing stories, painters experimenting with art forms, and tattoo artists letting their imagination run wild.

By Ajith Pillai

(What you are about to read is part of a classified Central Indian Intelligence Agency (CIIA) input that documents a devious plot hatched recently in India that could have drastically altered man-machine and machine-machine relations forever. The Executive Summary of the report, leaked on the Darknet, paints a rather grim picture of what can transpire when artificial intelligence is permitted to encroach into core areas hitherto controlled by humans. What is even more shocking is that the sequence of events that unfolded was pulled off without attracting any public attention.) 

Can technology become so powerful as to gain control over humans?

Futurologists and scientists have repeatedly tried to allay such fears by ruling out the possibility unless such subjugation is self-imposed. However, dependency on machines, they conceded, has seen a sharp increase since the advent of the 21^st century, when artificial intelligence systems and robots were designed to take over several time-consuming tasks hitherto executed by humans, and also, gradually, render the working class and other professionals in industries redundant.

But the scope of domination, it was pointed out, would always be circumscribed by the very fact that any mechanical device, however independent in its functioning, can be switched off by those operating it or destabilised by the manufacturing agency. Such a conclusion was perfectly logical to arrive at when it was first postulated in the last century. However, the human penchant to entrust work and responsibility to others, even mechanical devices, was not factored into the analysis.

One crucial task delegated to a special group of elite super robots was the creation of other humanoids. With virtually no human intervention, a team of fifteen super bots was licensed to populate the world with mechanical beings meant to serve humans.

As a result, we now have bots deployed as tireless 24/7 doctors in hospitals, teachers in schools and colleges, supervisors on factory shop floors, police officers investigating cases, pilots flying commercial aircraft, journalists filing stories, painters experimenting with art forms, and tattoo artists letting their imagination run wild.

The new-age robots are programmed not only to learn from day-to-day experiences but also to understand and react to a wide range of emotions, including hatred, love, compassion, and ambition. It was felt that this was essential to help them fulfil allotted tasks, which involved close interaction with humans.

No one had the foresight to warn the bosses in the Robotics Ministry that developing such super bots would be inviting trouble in the future.  And very few experts articulated the possibility that humanoids might eventually develop a parallel society that could attempt to control their creators.

Those who predicted such an eventuality were dismissed as being overly imaginative or guilty of taking archaic science fiction too seriously.

The sceptics were proved wrong.

It was not long before the CIIA unearthed a bizarre anti-human plot. In this instance, our Delhi-based operatives were tipped off about an attempt by a group of elite super robots to establish a caste hierarchy in the machine world in keeping with the top-heavy, upper-caste dominated ancient Hindu system of classifying society into four broad categories according to the duties each section performs. This, some of our analysts feared, was the obvious first step towards creating a parallel society that could challenge human domination.

It was in March of this year that the super bots in Delhi and Mumbai formed a group called Justice for All (JFA) ostensibly to serve the “larger interests” of the robotic community. This group claimed to have within its fold bot bureaucrats, doctors, engineers, researchers, scientists, writers, journalists, filmmakers, artists, singers, and actors.

Led by Bot K, who headed the unit responsible for creating bots for the government, the JFA outlined its commitment in its charter to “establish a society that rewards and prioritises all humanoids based on their roles in society.”

The setting up of JFA was dismissed jocularly by the bosses at the Robotics Ministry as another attempt by the bots to replicate human behaviour. But our operatives discovered that there was more to the organisation than what meets the eye.

In a secret note circulated to senior members of the JFA--which the CIIA accessed—K made this key observation: “The society that I speak of is in the realm of the possible if higher bots organise themselves into an elite group that can assert itself. It can do this by first establishing its supremacy among other humanoids. Gaining dominion control of the world would be the culmination of this first step.”

In the society that K envisaged, “machine-beings” carrying out the most evolved and intelligent tasks, including administrative and executive work, would be the Brahmins. Those fighting wars and defending the country would be the Kshatriyas; traders, the Vaishyas, and labourers, the Sudras. At the lowest rung of the ladder would be the untouchables--bots who do the most menial tasks involving hard and relentless labour.

When alerted to the forming of the JFA, the Washington-based International Robotics Monitoring Agency (IRMA) was dismissive. Domain experts were of the view that setting up a bot society was a pipe dream and that there was a limit beyond which even the most advanced robots could not scale. The Indian Robotics Ministry endorsed this view, and we were advised not to take the JFA seriously.

However, the advisory did not dissuade our operatives from keeping a close tab on Bot K and the JFA. A few weeks later, one of them reported a development that made all concerned sit up and take notice.

Bot K, according to his sources, was laying the groundwork for a ceremony that would elevate a section of the super-robots to the status of Brahmins who would enjoy the privilege of wearing the janeyu (sacred thread) on the upper half of their frame. This would help distinguish them as belonging to a superior caste having divine sanction to preside over those below them on the caste ladder.

Apparently, K’s move was inspired by research which unearthed two historical accounts of caste upgradation. Both events took place in southern India, in the ancient kingdoms of Tanjore and Travancore.

The first of these is mentioned in the study Saints, Goddesses and Kings, by historian-anthropologist Susan Bayly, published in 1989-90 by Cambridge University Press. All efforts to authenticate Professor Bayly’s research were in vain in the absence of access to records before 2014.

However, the passages from Saints, Goddesses, and Kings that Bot K liberally quoted in his strategy paper, shared with senior members of the JFA, provided clues to the planned upgradation ritual.      

According to K, the rites mentioned in Bayly’s book included one which was a “remarkably graphic ceremony of rebirth”, In ancient texts, it is referred to as Hiranyagarbha (literally meaning a golden womb). The ritual’s “chief artefact was a life-size cow, usually made of gold or gilded bronze”. The king, wishing to secure his position at the top of the caste ladder, had to be reborn through the womb of the sacred cow.

Detailed in Bayly’s book is one such ceremony in which the king of Tanjore performed the Hiranyagarbha in 1659. “In this version of the ritual, the ruler was ushered into the body of the cow by his chief Brahman ritualist: he then went through the motions of being reborn from the cow's womb into the arms of the Brahman's wife. She played the role of midwife, rocking and caressing him while he cried like an infant.”

In another instance, cited in K’s paper, there is a reference to a ceremony in the kingdom of Travancore (later part of the state of Kerala). Here, too, the golden cow ritual was planned during the reign of Marthanda Varma (1729-1758) after the king summoned his officers and expressed his desire to wear the janeyu (sacred thread).     

Bot K elaborated on the arrangements required for performing the golden cow ritual. This led our operatives to suspect a ceremony similar to the one conducted in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was likely to be replicated to bestow the super-robots with upper caste status.

The line of investigation pursued by the CIIA was obvious—spot any moves being made to fabricate a larger-than-life cow that would allow humanoids to pass through its hollow body. Initial tracking of encrypted messages between K and members of the JFA yielded precious little, but finally, patience bore fruit.

Our surveillance team recorded a secret meeting between K and two office bearers in which there were frequent references to a project in the “Rajasthan desert”.

Using NASA’s services, the Thar Desert, which forms a natural border between India and Pakistan, was surveyed. Near Pokhran town in Rajasthan, a long-abandoned army facility was spotted, which was agog with activity. The high-resolution images from space clearly pointed to the shaping of a giant animal from metal—possibly bronze, an alloy of copper.

Armed with this evidence, we lost no time in launching ‘Operation Golden Cow’ in conjunction with the army. A joint reconnaissance team left for the Thar Desert. It returned with on-the-ground visual evidence confirming that a replica of a larger-than-life bovine creature was being sculpted in metal.

A subsequent raid led to the arrest of artisan robots and the master sculptor directly involved in the project. Interrogation and the decoding of their individual control panels and intelligence systems revealed that the task contracted to them by the JFA was to “build, transfer and install a hollow form of a female Bos taurus in bronze and plated with gold”.

In dimension, the required structure would be fifteen feet (4.572 metres) in height and of a size and girth that would allow the comfortable entry of a humanoid from its mouth and exit from the rear end of its body.

The exact location where the fabricated structure was to be installed was neither specified to the artisans nor to the master sculptor. However, the arrest of K and the office bearers of the JFA revealed that the “upgradation ceremony” was planned to be held near the holy city of Varanasi on the banks of the River Ganga. Bot priests had already been contacted, and they had agreed to conduct the rituals.

It is worth noting that interrogating K and the super-bots was not easy. They had programmed themselves to be immune to external control and deprogramming. Even their decommissioning was difficult, as they could not be “switched off” since self-created backup systems had been installed.

All this raises serious questions about whether mechanical devices should be given the autonomy they currently enjoy. Also, should they be programmed to have emotions which make them ambitious, devious and Machiavellian?

In this context, a word must also be said about the Society Against Robot Domination (SARD). This radical Patna-based organisation actively advocates technological regression to save humans from becoming slaves to their own inventions. This underground group is active on the Darknet and has been urging people to fight robotisation.

As part of our investigations during Operation Golden Cow, we delved into the background of SARD and found, to our surprise, that its members were not humans but rogue bots with a self-destructive streak. Committed nihilists, the society’s members have little faith in fellow bots, the government or in current societal values.

Our feedback is that they are eternal pessimists who believe that humanoids must be first eliminated to ensure the continuation of ‘humanity’ on Earth as ‘free beings’. In pursuit of this goal, they are willing to destroy and be destroyed.

It is not clear who programmed members of this grouping to turn anti-bot, but it could be the handiwork of some crazed geek on a mission to liberate the world from technological tyranny.

The emergence of SARD also has a socio-political dimension. It must not be ignored that a movement against robotisation has come from within bots and not humans.

Does this suggest that people, citizens of a nation, brainwashed over the decades to accept totalitarian authority silently, have lost their will to protest?

Will mechanical devices also have to take over that task?

In the final analysis, we must ponder this chilling takeaway from the drama that was deliberately kept out of the mainstream media: are humans slowly becoming robots, while the bots are metamorphosing into humans?

Editor’s Note: All characters and contexts in this short story are a work of fiction authored by the writer. The views expressed in this science fiction story solely belong to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the editorial opinion of independentink.in

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A seasoned journalist working in the media profession for 40 years, Ajith Pillai has reported out of Delhi, Mumbai, Chennai, Andhra Pradesh and Kashmir on a broad spectrum of events related to politics, crime, conflict and social change. He has worked with leading publications, including The Sunday Observer, Indian Post, Pioneer, The Week and India Today, where he headed the Chennai bureau. He was part of the team under Editor Vinod Mehta that launched Outlook magazine and headed its current affairs section till 2012. Under his watch, Outlook broke several stories that attracted national attention and questioned the government of the day. He has written two books—’Off the Record: Untold Stories from a Reporter’s Diary,’ and a novel, ’Junkland Journeys’. He is currently working on ’Obedient Editor’, a satirical novel on the life and times of a ‘compromised’ journalist. The short story presented here is from a collection that is awaiting publication.