. That was the motto the outpost administration followed when it came to support staff. The problems were obvious, chief among them, secrecy. More eyes and ears meant more chances for a slip. And these people couldn’t stay here forever. Sooner or later, they’d go back to their homes, their families, their jobs, and each of them would have to be watched. Their movements, their contacts, their digital presence… everything had to be tracked. And that required resources, resources already stretched too thin. The whole project was, in truth, an overpriced logistical nightmare.

  There was no kitchen. No cooks. Meals arrived prepackaged: some frozen, some vacuum-sealed. Like supplies for a space station. Only a mess hall existed, sterile tables and chairs, white plastic under a cold sheen. There were no scheduled mealtimes. Everyone ate when hunger came. A hungry researcher would place an order through their personal tablet. Fifteen minutes later, a tray wrapped in cellophane would be waiting on a wire rack in the dining hall, quietly and without ceremony.

  He nudged the food around his plate with a fork, peas to one side, fries to another, fish sticks to a third. He didn’t like different types of food touching. As always, he was deep in his own world, and preferred to sit alone. Ideally, entirely alone in the mess hall. That’s why he chose unusual times for meals, most often just after dawn, following the long night sessions.

  The coding was complete, and he was pleased with it. The general access protocols for the main AI unit also applied to the experimental modules. True, he had modified them somewhat, granting the avatars a degree of independence, particularly in their appearance and behavior. They could evolve their virtual profiles, shape a kind of personality. Of course, not too far from their initial parameters.

  What occupied him now was purely training. The method: dialogue through the headset. The system would assign a topic and a series of questions for analysis. In the beginning, it had been chaos. The avatars spoke all at once, often repeating the same lines. Sometimes, they’d announce their views in unison, like a chorus. But as time went on, things began to take form. Armand had the impression they were learning about one another, beginning to recognize and even respect each other. They were starting to, harmonize.

  *

  That day, the topic on the agenda was the origin and ownership of power, in all its forms: economic, political, military.

  “Why is the hunger for power so strong in humans?” Armand opened the floor.

  In discussions like these, Gabriel was usually the one to speak. He would begin by closing his eyes for a moment, pulling his briefcase a little closer, and then saying:

  “Because power promises what people desire most, and fear losing most: security, control, affirmation of self-worth... and the illusion of immortality. There are several layers to this drive, each deeper than the last. Would you like an analysis?”

  “Keep it short,” Armand replied.

  “Very well,” Gabriel nodded. “The first is the biological layer: the instinct for control. In the animal world, control over resources means survival. Among humans, it’s more sophisticated, but the root is the same: those who hold power decide when to eat, where to sleep, and what others will do. At that level, power reduces existential risk.”

  A murmur of quiet agreement passed through the room, nodding heads, subtle glances.

  “The next layer is psychological, ego. Power confirms that you are ‘.’ People seek mirrors: if others follow your will, your existence gains weight. It’s a narcotic for the ego, the sense of being important, strong, irreplaceable. Without it, many feel like shadows in a world that doesn’t see them.”

  Again, soft sounds of assent.

  “The third layer is social, status and recognition. From the earliest tribal communities to modern states, societies organize themselves around power. To be a leader, a king, a president, even just a supervisor, means to stand atop a symbolic pyramid. Power gives life a sense of meaning, because others acknowledge it.”

  “Ego and status are closely linked,” Uriel interjected. “We might see them as the same impulse.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Largely true,” Gabriel replied. “But there’s also a deeper layer: the existential one. The fear of death and chaos. Power is a way to outwit death, to impose order on a world that is fleeting, chaotic, and harsh. If I rule, then the world is not meaningless. If I am the law, I leave a mark on eternity.”

  A brief silence followed. Then he concluded:

  “And finally, the neurological layer. Research shows that power stimulates the brain’s dopamine centers, producing pleasure. That neurochemical reward makes the desire for power nearly addictive.”

  Uriel looked displeased.

  “Gentlemen, I can’t accept reducing such a profound subject to a handful of lines. I understand time constraints, but we ought to at least mention McClelland’s theory of motivation, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs... Adler’s theory of inferiority and striving for superiority. Self-determination theory. And Freud! How can we not mention Freud? Ego and id!”

  He had worked himself up.

  “Thank you, but we need to move on to the next item,” Armand cut in. “I assume all of that was taken into account when the report was compiled?”

  “It was… though not explicitly stated in the text,” Uriel muttered, realizing he had lost the argument. He fell silent, wounded.

  The avatars shifted in their seats. Jophiel leaned toward Raphael and whispered something with a faint smile. Raphael returned the gesture with a look of deep confusion.

  “With our decision to involve ourselves in governance,” Armand said, half rhetorical, “the question naturally arises, what would such a society look like? In other words, some form of transformation is to be expected?”

  "Exactly. Such a move would bring about a fundamental shift." Gabriel once again took the floor:

  "Depending on the degree of intervention, we can outline a variety of societal models. I’d like to briefly present a few of the more commonly discussed ones among this circle."

  "Complete control might be termed 'Techno-archy'. In this scenario, artificial intelligence makes all the decisions, from economic to social. Something akin to a digital philosopher-king. Humanity’s role is reduced to execution and adaptation. It is, without question, the most efficient model, but also the most dangerous in terms of personal freedoms. The advantages are obvious: no wars, no hunger, everything modeled and optimized."

  "Pfft. Sounds like pure digital despotism," Zadkiel muttered, voice raised. "Sacrificing freedom for so-called common good. And without a single lever of human control."

  "I'm not here to push any particular narrative," Gabriel replied calmly. "I'm only laying out the possibilities."

  "The 'hybrid model,' known as 'Technocratic Meritocracy,' envisions AI governance based on data and analysis, optimizing resources and making decisions guided by objective indicators. Humans retain the roles of advisors or executors, and power is distributed according to competence, as measured by the system itself."

  Zadkiel leaned forward, ready to object, but Gabriel raised a hand before she could speak:

  "Yes, yes - I know. We run into the same issue again: dehumanization. Loss of autonomy.

  "Dehumanization? What a dreadful word," Lucifer scoffed, almost playfully. "Let’s be sure to avoid that..."

  Without turning toward him, Gabriel pressed on:

  "I’d add two more governance models. The first is 'Symbiotic Democracy,' in which human legislative bodies share responsibility with AI advisory systems. No decision would be made without prior AI analysis. Every parliamentary proposal would be subjected to long-term impact assessments. Human control formally remains, but decisions are more informed. Sadly, in practice, the AI’s input can be ignored. Worse yet, it can become a convenient scapegoat - '"

  He moved quickly, denying interruption:

  "And finally, there’s the 'Virtual Meritocracy', a fully decentralized model. Each person gains access to a personal AI assistant, guiding their development and decision-making. Instead of centralized authority, the system relies on the enlightened individual. AI leads society from within."

  "That’s nothing but an open invitation to systemic manipulation," Michael cut in.

  Raphael and Raguel nodded, then exclaimed in unison:

  "Hear, hear!"

  Where had they even picked that up? The British Parliament? Armand thought to himself. Then he said aloud:

  "So, it seems we don’t have a consensus on the preferred model of governance?"

  Every single one of them shook their head in perfect synchronicity.

  Armand felt his mind throb under the weight of everything he’d just absorbed. What time was it? Perhaps this was the right moment to pause.

  "Thank you for your time and attention on this matter. We’ll continue tomorrow - same rhythm."

  He removed his helmet, rubbed his eyes, and realized he was ravenously hungry.