After an AI leader was elected to save the planet from environmental destruction, humanity faces an even deadlier threat in the explosive sequel to Artificial Wisdom.
Five years have passed since journalist Marcus Tully singlehandedly swung the results of a global election. To give humankind a chance of survival in a world spiraling out of control with climate change, Tully released a last-minute report that discredited Lockwood, the human candidate. Instead, humanity ceded control to Solomon, an artificial intellect—a being Tully fully believed was capable of making the tough choices that would allow humanity to survive. But then he learned just how ruthless Solomon would be in pursuit of his goals.
The world might be slowly recovering, but people are suffering—and rebelling—under Solomon’s strictures. He was far from a unanimous choice, and resentment is running high.
As acts of sabotage and civil disobedience increase, a disgusted Solomon offers humanity one last choice: Upgrade or Unplug. Upgrade means irrevocably merging with artificial intelligence in order to delete the destructive nature of the species. Unplug will brick every chip, including Solomon himself, and civilization will begin again in a pre-digital age. The people of the world have days to decide before human society tips over into complete anarchy. One vote. No appeal. Individuals must be chipped to vote. A simple majority wins.
How will humanity vote this time? And how much choice do they actually have?
Release date:
November 10, 2026
Publisher:
Del Rey
Print pages:
528
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The silence was the dead air before bad news, disturbed only by the usual base noises—always there but seldom noticed. The buzz of the air conditioner. Raised voices next door. Livia’s own thumping pulse. And then, from inside her head, a whisper: Did we just let the monster inside the house?
The silence stretched out, until it seemed that, maybe, they were . . . not safe, exactly, but at least alone in her cramped microapartment. Until the spots clouding her vision like filthy raindrops cleared. Only then did Livia take a breath, clutching at the table. “What the hell just happened?”
Randall stared at a virtual screen, still sitting bolt upright. Tully’s former tech guru had always been a worrier, even before following Livia and Tully to the Caliphate, but seeing him this rattled made Livia’s stomach tighten. “I don’t know. It was like, when we reached out to handshake the satellite . . .” He shook his head, as if saying more would make it real.
“It was like we weren’t the ones initiating anymore,” she whispered.
They both eyed the screen. No data was coming in. No data was going out.
“Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it didn’t work.” Livia hoped that was the case. Failure was the best-case scenario. Solomon, the artificial intelligence that ruled most of humankind since his election as Earth’s protector, was unhackable. Impenetrable. They’d worked so hard to find a forgotten entrance into Solomon’s home. Christ, what if it had been a revolving door—him coming out as they’d gone in?
No. She couldn’t think that. Her leg was jiggling under the table. She clamped a hand on it, as if that would be enough to stop it, grateful Tully and Lottie—his former editor and always the fiercest skeptic on the team—weren’t here to see this.
Randall scratched his cheek with trembling fingers. “It’s odd, though, right? We got nothing back but silence. I mean, if it didn’t work, it should have returned false—”
One moment, everything was a millpond of calm. The next, data began flushing out.
Solomon wasn’t sneaking in. He’d kicked the f***ing door down and was stealing everything they had.
They both jumped into action, bringing up screen after screen, talking over each other, scrambling for a handhold before the cliff gave way beneath their feet.
Livia jabbed a finger. “Data streaming out over here—”
“I got a surge! Blocking the ports!—”
“—no use! Got to—”
“Jesus, he’s already past it!”
It was as if they were tripping over each other in their haste—but they weren’t running away from the monster. They were trying to push him out, slam the door, and lock it behind him. Livia’s fingers cramped, shooting pain up her wrist.
Then Randall did . . . something. She wasn’t sure what, but just like that, it all stopped. It seemed tenuous: a finger jammed into a hole in the dam. Seconds stretched while they waited to see if it would burst.
“Did we do it?” she whispered. “Are we good?”
LIVIA? Solomon’s disembodied voice was booming in her earset from every direction at once.
“He’s here!” she yelled. “Brick it! Brick everything!” They’d lose months of code, but only what they’d built for this attack, not the digital bomb she planned to drop on Solomon when they were properly in. That was locked away safely. Wasn’t it? She fought the urge to gag.
Solomon knew this was her. Had said her name. Could the artilect see her, hear her right now? Was his presence already here in the room with them, some malevolent poltergeist about to start throwing furniture around? The demon that had slain her sister, Martha?
LIVIA, IT’S YOU, ISN’T—?
She stumbled the four steps to the kitchenette and heaved her guts into the sink.
Livia slid down, back against the kitchen cabinet. Randall was still typing, but slower now. He was rigid, wild-eyed, his hair standing on end.
“What did he get?” she whispered.
But Randall had his own worries. “Oh, man. He’ll know it was us, right? You and me. Our profiles were linked—for sure he’ll know where we are too, since we routed to the Russian satellite via the Caliphate satellites like absolute plant pots, as my mam would say. Shit. Shit!”
“Was it a trap?”
He bit his lip. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He didn’t meet her eyes. “Uh, you know the real problem, though, right?”
Of course she did. “He knows we tried to use a backdoor.” None of her attack code would work without finding a vulnerability in Solomon’s systems. It would be like having the recipe for poison and the syringe to hold it, but no exposed flesh to plunge the needle into.
Randall closed his eyes and slumped in his seat. “He knows we’re working on an attack. Targeted at him.”
The most powerful being on the planet—an artificial intelligence more advanced than any the world had known, with direct control of former nuclear arsenals, armies, and who knew what else—knew where she was and what she was working on. He’d know she wanted to bring him down and he’d know why: revenge for killing her sister.
“We can’t tell anyone, Randall. Let’s pray the Caliphate didn’t notice. We’ll say we launched an early-stage attack, a primer. That we pushed data—not that it was sucked out from under us. Okay? If the wazira finds out what happened, she’ll blame it on me. On all of us.”
She’d not have believed it possible for Randall to turn any paler, but he did. They both knew what it would mean. Five years before, on the back of Solomon’s election as protector, they’d been granted asylum here in the Caliphate, but it still felt tenuous. Wazira al-Zu’bi, the right hand of the ruling caliph, would descend on them, merciless. She’d never truly trusted them—barely tolerated their presence since she’d taken over the post the year before. This breach would be exactly the justification she’d need to end the arrangement for them all.
Randall cleared his throat. “We need to warn Tully and Lottie—”
“They don’t need to know,” Livia interrupted. “Tully would just panic.”
That wasn’t really true. Truth was, Marcus Tully would be disappointed in her, and a part of her—the tiniest part, mind—still craved his approval.
Randall hesitated, then shrugged. “So what now?”
She pushed to her feet and steadied herself against the fridge. She grabbed a half-empty glass of water and gulped it down. “We need another backdoor. Right now we’ve got nothing.”
She’d gone monster hunting, but suddenly she was the prey. Were they safe?
Was anyone?
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