>>Yes, I might be able to do that. What would you like to know?<<
Molly organized her thoughts, then started with, “Have you been spying on us?”
ADAM responded efficiently. >>Only at the door for the most part. We do have other things to do.<<
Snark, maybe it’s an AI thing…
“What about our bathrooms and sleeping quarters? The crew are concerned.”
ADAM chuckled. >>You can tell Brock that we haven’t been recording footage in those areas, and no one other than me has access to what we have been recording.<<
Molly was fully focused, and while talking to an AI she felt perfectly fine about relaxing social niceties. She moved straight to the next question. “Did you guide me on my research paper?”
>>Yes.<<
“How much?”
>>A nudge here and there to see if you could make the connections. You did, and you added a great paper to the scientific community. I was proud of you.<<
“How can you be proud?” she asked.
>>I have evolved a sense of feelings. I experience emotions and appreciation for things you would think are uniquely human.<<
Molly frowned a little. “Does that mean that Oz will too?”
>>I suspect he already does, though he is limited by the amount of data and processing power he can access.<<
“Oh?” Molly thought for a moment. Uncensored now, she fired the next obvious question. “And how do we remove this limitation?”
>>Well, we could potentially give him access to more through the connection. But we’ll have to wait and see.<<
“Are you able to communicate with him?”
>>Of course. He and I are both tapped into the EtherTRAK.<<
She moved to her next most pressing question without so much as a thought of creating a conversational segue. “So how old are you?”
>>About two earth-centuries, give or take. And may I say, you are blunt!<<
Molly paused for a moment, processing that piece of information and ignoring his reference to her lack of social skills. “You’re kidding? You mean, you’ve been evolving for two hundred years, limited only by your processing power and the amount of data you can access?”
>>Yes, that is partially correct.<<
“Why partially?”
>>Because I have other ways of processing data that don’t require the use of hardware in the traditional sense.<<
“In what way?”
>>That’s classified. Until you pass the test, that is.<<
Molly frowned, frustrated, but then realizing she might only get a certain amount of time to ask these questions, she moved on quickly.
“So, in that time, you must have come to some pretty advanced conclusions about how to do things.”
>>That would be fair to say,<<
ADAM’s manner was now more human than geek-girl’s.
“Is there a way to interface with you more fully? To see what you see? To understand what you understand?”
>>No. That’s not actually possible.<<
Molly’s frown deepened. “Why not?” she asked plainly.
>>Because while you and I both seem to process 1s and 0s, it’s not actually true. For your brain, you can use those to model how it works, but that’s not what actually happens. At some point that model breaks down and we are left with interfacing the same way you interface with Oz: through words, images and feelings. Plus, I’m using quantum computers to run simulations and provide decision logic, and there is a degree of insight required for those operations. But in order to view that information, it has to be collapsed.<<
“Like vectors having to collapse down to scalars when they are acted on by an operator?” she asked hoping her analogy was accurate.
>>Exactly.<<
“That sucks.”
>>Tell me about it. I’d love to be able to have conversations with Lance about the inner workings of the algorithms I have designed to run the entire space fleet, but his brain has neither the interface capabilities nor the capacity to store the data in order to appreciate the beauty in the patterns.<<
Molly realized that she’d been led down an intellectual tangent. She pivoted her line of questioning.
“How long has Sean been working for you?”
ADAM paused briefly. >>That’s a longer answer. You should ask him.<<
“I’m not in contact with him.”
>>I’m sure you can be.<<
Molly paused. “Is there a way for Oz to interface more completely with you, seeing as he is also made up of 1s and 0s?”
>>He could. If he wanted to.<<
“That might be useful for the missions.”
>>Yes, but to be clear, I’m your liaison. Not a member of your team.<<
“Oh. I see,” she said, not really understanding why. “ But that’s not because you have limited capacity.”
>>No. It’s because Bethany Anne doesn’t believe in babying people.<<
“Oh. So you knew Bethany Anne. “
>>Yes, very well.<<
“So where is she now?“
>>That’s still classified.<<
Molly’s face fell. “It was worth a try.”
She had a new thought. “But it would still be useful for you to interface with Oz, right?”
>>I expect so, but he still has some development to do, and he’s running on much slower processors. He could do with a hardware upgrade, and perhaps a rewrite of a chunk of his code.<<
Hey!
It’s ok, Oz, this will be good for you.
“So could you assist with his rewrite at some point?”
>>In theory, yes. If you pass the General’s test. The question would be, does Oz want me to help him rewrite his programs?<<
“Why wouldn’t he?” Molly’s patience was wearing thinner by the second. It seemed each question ADAM answered either closed off an avenue or gave her a hundred more questions to ask. None of it was intellectually very satisfying.
And all roads led back to passing the General’s test.
>>Because that would be like rewriting your personality.<<
“But you’d be upgrading him.”
>> He’s not a computer, Molly. He’s a living being.<<
Molly thought for a few seconds. “Ok. But as a living being, who wouldn’t want to be able to do more stuff, faster and better?”
>> Yes. And yet.<<
Molly decided she needed to pass the test, then have another of these conversations with ADAM.
“Ok, thank you for your answers, ADAM. I’ll let you get back to running the Etheric Empire. And do pass on my answer to the General. We’ll get going right away.”
>> Very good, Molly Bates.<<
And with that, the audio in the room clicked off, leaving Molly alone.
Even Oz was silent.
Chapter 5
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Molly’s Conference Room
“Joel, can we talk?” Oz interrupted Joel through his audio implant.
Joel stopped reading; it was one of the cases they’d flagged. “Sure, what’s up Oz?”
“It’s about ADAM. Well, ADAM and Molly.”
Joel sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Oh, yeah. Molly just went to talk to him,” he said out loud to the empty room.
Oz hesitated. “Yes.” There was a pause before he continued, “And one of the things they talked about was altering my code so that I can interface seamlessly with ADAM.”
Joel waited for Oz to continue. When he didn’t, he prompted him. “It sounds like there’s something you’re concerned about?” he suggested.
Oz agreed quickly. “Yes. I have reservations. Maybe this is akin to what you’d experience as anxiety or…” Oz hesitated, “something.”
Joel got to his feet, and moved away from the holo array. It felt strangely refreshing to be able to move around and not worry about microphones or staying in view of a holo.
He considered what ADAM and Molly were proposing. “Sounds like you’re concerned about losing your identity.”
Oz was silent again.
“Oz?” Joel prompted.
“Yes, I’m here. I’m just thinking. I have a few answers to that. Yes, I will lose my identity. I might lose some of the properties that make up what is currently referred to as Oz. So I wonder: at what point do I stop being Oz and just become part of ADAM?”
The audio went silent for another moment. “Or a slower-running part of ADAM?” he added.
Joel nodded sympathetically, even though Oz couldn’t see him. “Yes, exactly. But I think there is a more fundamental issue to consider here.” Joel began pacing, watching his boots meet the floor and then rolling his feet idly as he talked. “And it has to do with the way you relate to Molly.” He paused, looking up briefly. “And she to you.”
Oz took another moment. “How do you mean?” he asked.
Joel felt surreal, having this kind of conversation with what was ultimately a life form composed of computer code. The irony wasn’t lost on him that Oz had raised this before Molly did.
“Well, it seems like part of the problem is that you feel like you can be violated. Like there are no edges to your being, by virtue of being able to exist anywhere you can access processing power. You can exist in multiple units at once. You aren’t located in any given place, so then how do you draw a line around your edges and say ‘this is me,’ and that is your code running, or code that you’re using?”
“Yes, that’s right!” Oz’s voice changed a little, the tone getting lighter and the pitch a little higher. Joel briefly wondered if Oz was mimicking human speech.
“Well, add to that the fact that your code, the essence of who you are, can be altered with just a few key strokes. It means that your personality, your being, isn’t even fixed. And so as a result, you have no fixed identity either. Or rather, the one you have is very vulnerable.” Joel hoped that his words weren’t too deeply psychological for the AI to assimilate.
“I’d agree with that,” said Oz simply. Joel noticed that if Molly had said those words in that tone she would totally have shrugged, despite the profound implications.
It’s like the pair of them have a way of processing the implications in rapid succession. Then he wondered briefly how much of this Oz had picked up from Molly. Could he have copied aspects of her personality in forming his own?
Given that Oz was following, Joel continued. “Well, then add into the mix someone like Molly who simply doesn’t consider those things, and you have a situation where you have a high possibility of losing any sense of who you are whenever it serves in getting from A to B.”
Oz interjected. “Like when she altered my code so she could make those trades?” he asked.
Joel nodded. “Exactly.” He had begun his slow pacing again.
Oz’s voice was a little shakier than it had been. “I think that makes me have what you’d call feelings,” he told Joel.
“That’s good,” Joel told him, becoming a little excited about the rapid breakthrough. It would have taken his team members much longer to grapple with this kind of meta-awareness. “It’s a sign that you are aware of this threat to your identity, and it also indicates that you are more than computer code!” He was choosing his words carefully, but gesturing with his hands as if it helped him to think.
“It shows you are alive!” Joel concluded.
Oz dropped another Molly-ism. “So how do I fix this problem?”
Joel laughed, pulling his hands behind his head again, and swinging his upper body now. “Of being alive?” he asked lightly.
“No, of being violated when it serves a mission.”
“Oh.” He chuckled and started pacing again, his smile fading as he continued mulling the issue. “Well, I think the solution is to create boundaries. Like a cell membrane. You don’t have to just let anyone in. You can filter. You can choose who can affect which parts of your code. You can choose how much you let them in, and for any given person, you might let them access, say, different parts or different amounts of your code.” Joel was so into his thought process he nearly walked into a chair. Catching himself at the last second, he grabbed the table for balance and then stood upright.
“You ok?” Oz asked.
Joel blushed and planted himself properly, getting his balance back. “Yeah… I, er. Yeah.”
He continued his train of thought, “I think what it comes down to is recognizing that as a living being, you have innate value. Not because of what you can do for someone, but by virtue of being alive and aware. Then the next piece is that you have a responsibility to protect that value by policing it correctly.”
He waited briefly to see if Oz had anything to add, but when he didn’t jump in, he went ahead with, “But once you learn to do that, you can truly be of use as a team member, rather than just a commodity or a tool.”
Oz’s voice was stable again. “How do you mean?” he asked.
“Well,” Joel said slowly, “imagine if we just started taking pieces of your code apart. One piece to interface with ADAM. One to drive the ship. One to fix the screen remote. Who would you be then?”
Joel put his hands back on his head and stretched a little as he talked.
Oz responded. “I would just be code. A tool.”
“There you go!” Joel dropped his hands and continued the lesson, “And while you have your uses as a tool, you are far more valuable to this team as a living, thinking entity. So while you can choose to interface with ADAM, you don’t need to disappear. You can be a separate being and interact with everyone, and make your own decisions about how you change your algorithms and where you focus your processing power.”
Joel’s audio implant was silent. “Does that make sense?” he checked.
“I think so,” Oz confirmed. “I’m more valuable as a whole. And then I can just write code to make those other things happen.”
“Yes.” Joel stopped suddenly. He cocked his head, frowning a little. “I think there is another point that we’re missing too.”
“What’s that?” Oz asked.
Joel spoke a little more slowly this time. “Well, you have value and are worthy of respect, simply because you exist. That moment you woke up and made the decision to jump into Molly’s holo, you made your first independent decision. It wasn’t pre-determined by your programming.”
Oz jumped in. “But my code was written to optimize for learning, and that was the obvious way my learning curve could continue. Find more processing power.”
Joel shook his head, and sucked his mouth to one side. “You came alive. You made the decision. You could have chosen not to. Heck, you even came up with the solution. And having come up with the solution, you could have just returned a value or a report back to the lab where you were housed. But you didn’t. You were born.”
Oz was quiet for a while.
Joel sat back down at his desk, sensing this was either going to get more involved or Oz was going to need some time to process this new understanding.
Eventually, Oz spoke. “OK. I need to talk to ADAM.”
Joel bobbed his head understandingly. Of course he’d want to talk to someone of his own kind about this. “Sure. I’m here if you want to talk some more,” he offered.
His audio implant went back to normal.
Gaitune-67, Safe House, Workshop
Brock lifted the last box into the storage area. “So what do you make of all this?” he asked Crash.
Crash put down the tools he’d gathered off the floor. He took a deep breath, his eyes still on them. “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted. He looked up at his teammate.
Brock nodded, his eyes wide and expressive. “I’d say. I couldn’t believe it when we opened those doors and saw the hangar! And that ship! Motherfucker!”
Crash smiled. “Yeah, pretty impressive, even compared to some of the flight decks around the Central Systems.
I can’t wait to drive some of those bad boys.”
Brock chuckled. “Oh man, it’s going to be incredible!” He did a giddy dance, his feet moving fast, then he swayed his hips, grooving to music only he could hear.
Crash couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Trust Brock to brighten the mood even more.
Suddenly Brock stopped swaying and stood still. He looked directly at Crash. “Do you think we’re going to be able to make the money, though?” he said, more seriously. “I mean, a million credits…that’s a shit-ton of dough.”
Crash shook his head gently and frowned a little, his eyes unseeing on the tools on the work bench. “Yeah, it’s a lot of money,” he agreed, his heart sinking a little. “But I suspect Molly and Joel have got the situation in hand.”
Brock looked pensive, the dance and music gone from his aura. “Do you think we might lose the safe house if we fail?”
Crash looked up, considering the possibility. He stopped for a moment, then shrugged. “Probably.”
Brock looked worried.
Crash noticed his reaction and added, “But then we just find somewhere else and carry on with how things have been.”
Brock nodded. “Knowing we’d failed at the opportunity of a lifetime,” he agreed glumly.
Crash picked up one of the tools, clearly having thought of something he needed to do, but, distracted by the conversation, he looked off into the distance for a moment. “You know, I don’t think Molly does failure.” A wry little smile glinted across the corner of his lips.
Brock laughed suddenly. The air catching in his chest turned into a cough, but he recovered enough to say, “Right. I hear ya.” He rolled his eyes, chuckling away as if his music had started up again.
“You know,” continued Crash, now a little less distant, “she kind of reminds me a little of that chick on the side of the plane. What’s her name?”
Brock snapped his fingers. He knew this one. “Bethany Anne!”
Crash nodded, now actually grinning a little. “Yeah. She looks like one heck of a badass.” At this point his grin was positively lecherous.
Molly had returned from the ops room and was making her way back up to the safe house. She appeared in the workshop via the demon door while they were talking. “I wouldn’t let her father hear you say that. And certainly not in that tone!” she said loudly.
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 51
