SOPHIA
Age of Intelligence
Michael F. Donoghue
Copyright © 2016 by Michael F Donoghue
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Sophia, Age of Intelligence/ Michael F Donoghue. -- 1st ed.
To my wonderful wife, Eve.
‘The saddest aspect of life right now is that science
gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.’
― Isaac Asimov
Acknowledgements
Firstly, to Steve, Rose, and Jennifer. Thank you for your patience and inspiration throughout the process of writing this novel. Our discussions pertaining to the elements of an entertaining story will forever be imbedded in the following pages. I hope you look forward to future collaborations as much as I do.
To everyone who read and offered suggestions on my developing manuscript, I offer my sincerest thanks. To Angie Shaw, Lois Sowden, Bob Gei, Tom Donoghue, and Maureen Jerrett, my heartfelt appreciation cannot be overstated. A special thank you to Jennifer Hoy for her generous gift of both time and talent. Your contribution surpassed my every expectation.
Thank you to Maureen Jerrett for her front cover design. And to Jenny Donoghue for her artistic input.
Finally, to my wonderful wife, Eve, your support throughout every aspect of our journey seems infinite. On this sojourn, you listened intently, nodded when you knew I required the subtlest of encouragement, and offered your opinion when I needed your wise direction. Your literary knowledge surpasses mine at every level, and I am therefore lucky to have you as my lifelong partner. I especially enjoyed developing aspects of this story during our trips to Alexandria Bay and The Thousand Islands region. Their beauty was immeasurably enhanced by yours.
CHAPTER ONE
The Near Future
PRYING HIS HEELS from the top of his desk, he leaned forward to study his options. The monitor in front of him suggested few remained. A burden felt by both mind and body then prompted the otherwise assertive CEO to fall back into the suppleness of his office chair. Indecision waded in next, consuming precious milliseconds. The fear of placing third or even second was a sensation with which he was all too familiar. In the time it took to enunciate his choice, the contestant at the center podium simultaneously announced: ‘Popular Culture for $600.’
A cell phone buzzed about on his desktop. It was the prompt he’d been expecting, but the distraction drew little more than a momentary glance. The familiar voice of a now classic collection continued, asking: ‘A child’s game consisting of physical instructions. Its original Latin incarnation commanded Cicero dicit fac hoc.’
“Pause game,” he stated, smiling. The glass screen froze as his phone came to life again. This time it couldn’t be ignored. Picking it up, he read: ‘Simon, Illinois will be ready for you in 10.’
Ten minutes, he thought. Looking back at the stilled Jeopardy game, he lamented: “If it were only that simple.”
Simon Taylor got up from his chair and stepped out from behind a large, glass-inlaid desk. Being the founder of PurIntel, one of the planet’s most recognized brands, an expansive office spoke as much for his stature as it did his sleek, minimalist style. In the very spirit of One World Trade Centre, Simon’s Freedom Tower corporate headquarters looked over the New York skyline equally eager to impose itself on the future.
Yet within its glassed walls, Simon vowed to never lose sight of things close at hand, of the monuments that take shape within. And while modesty remained an attractive dividend of his British upbringing, external spaces were allowed to speak more freely of his achievements. Many were hung from wherever a solid wall would allow. Pictured with presidents and prime ministers, his décor appeared to chronicle success itself. But in the same way his unique collection of art was offered to the eye of the beholder so could a man defy the perception that he was solely the product of a master’s final strokes. In truth Simon’s life was like most others, a narrative of happiness and contentment, punctuated by sacrifice and loss. He often felt his experiences were meant to be layered within his soul, placed one on top of the other, much in the same way his building’s floors rose up out of the hallowed ground beneath.
Success for Simon was not a solitary pursuit, however. Each obstacle was overcome with the assistance of another, every triumph a collaboration of more than one mind. Consequently, the east wing of the office belonged to Sophia, Simon’s partner. It was hers and hers alone. And while Sophia was sometimes afforded the sentiment of a wife or girlfriend, she was neither. For Sophia was not human. She was a supercomputer of world renown.
Simon’s personal space looked out over an expansive office suite, having the advantage of being slightly elevated. Leaving his desk, he took two steps down and strode several paces toward Sophia’s wing. He studied the holographic image projected in front of him. It was a representation of what was taking place in the meeting room down the hall.
While the breadth of Sophia’s incredible computing power was located within four secret, off-site warehouse locations, the apex of her intelligence was centralized in an ultra-cool adjacent room. The holographic wing actually comprised the structure of a sphere, whose dimensions exceeded the room’s allowable height. Descending below the floor and rising above the ceiling, its center focal point could only be accessed by a grated catwalk. The sphere’s visually unique surfaces supported its holographic images by displaying whatever backdrop the central scene required.
Their Nano-plasma composite possessed the qualities of both a liquid and a solid. Once applied to walls of any shape or size, the liquid’s Nano particles formulated images much in the same way a traditional flat-screen television does. Three-dimensional video projectors were also seamlessly embedded into the sphere. In the highest definition the human eye could interpret, Simon watched the hologram with interest. The meeting’s boardroom table, and its seated occupants, rotated slowly as if to highlight each of those present. The audio component was left muted.
Simon’s Director of Operations, Derrick Landry was standing, presently leading the meeting at the head of the room. Far less animated, a representative of PurIntel’s Client Services, Rachel Forrester, was seated on Derrick’s right. Glen Fraser, head of Qualitative Assurance sat on his left. Simon’s potential client group was the State of Illinois. Several members from the State Commerce Commission were present. The Budgeting for Results Commission were nodding more noticeably, while the names of two Department of Labor representatives were displayed in turn. This would be a milestone, Simon reflected. The State level would make a great platform to… Just then he noticed Karen, one of his assistants in the back corner. She was concentrating on something in her lap, most likely her phone.
Simon felt his cell vibrate again. He pulled it from his pocket. Another text read: ‘2 minutes.’ He looked at Karen and found her glancing up at one of the room’s several cameras. Through Sophia’s holographic imaging software, they provided Simon with the three dimensional video he was now watching.
“Thank you, Sophia. That’ll be all for now,” Simon said.
The visual of the meeting vanished.
“Do you have time for a message from your mother?” Sophia asked.
Simon looked at the clock on his phone. “Of course,” he said. An accuratel
y scaled image of Simon’s mother, Catherine, instantly appeared in the same space. She stood, smiling, before him.
“Simon,” she said. Her light coloured, shoulder-length hair complimented the blues of her nurse’s scrubs.
The sight of her drew a warm smile from Simon. “Mom. It’s so nice to see you again.” Like his mother’s English accent, Simon’s lived on relatively intact.
“Look Son, Sophia mentioned you only have a moment, so I’ll keep it short. I just wanted to congratulate you on the Toronto contract. We’re all happy for you, especially your father.”
“Thank you. That one was very meaningful.”
Simon noticed his mother’s attention being diverted to something behind. She turned her head to the side, as though she were being called back into action. “Sorry, Luv, but it looks like something’s come up. We’ll talk longer next time.”
“That’s alright, Mom. I have somewhere to be as well.”
“Of course you do,” she said, smiling. A nearly imperceptible aura surrounded her every gesture. “I also wanted to mention how proud your father and I are. You are accomplishing things beyond our dreams. We knew you were destined for greatness, son. You are truly making the world a better place to live.”
Humbled, Simon smiled. “You are my inspiration, Mom.”
“I miss you, Simon,” was all she said, before the message faded into nothingness.
“I miss you too, Mom.”
Simon exhaled and then took a moment to do up the buttons on his Armani suit. “Thank you, Sophia, for putting that message through.”
A facial representation of Simon’s supercomputer appeared before him. It hovered in the nearly empty space. It was a life-like rendition of his favourite actress, Natalie Portman. Sophia smiled knowing the last minute encounter would provoke a grounded confidence within her boss. The final pitch on a multi-million dollar deal was Simon’s specialty.
He strode confidently through the threshold of his office door. Nodding to his two corporate receptionists, he continued down a broad hallway, passing a secured, retinal-locked room. It housed PurIntel’s Systems Integrity Unit. Here, as many as two dozen software analysts kept Sophia running at optimal performance, ensuring, most importantly, that all attempts at undermining their computer’s integrity were kept at bay.
Simon’s personal secretary joined him, walking alongside. Together, they stopped outside the boardroom door. While waiting for his cue to enter, he fiddled with his tie one final time.
“You look fine,” Sam said. Looking him over, she noticed the degree to which her boss was impeccably manicured. Simon’s hair was black and short, his face clean-shaven. He was a tailor’s dream, five foot ten and of slim build. His most charming trait, however, seemed to reside in a convergence of polar opposites.
Simon felt comfortable within the gravity of two worlds, both the lab-coated genius and the confident corporate executive. In the swirling collision of one galaxy encountering another, the PurIntel Chairman had a gift for harnessing the elegance found within opposing orbits. Branded by Vanity Fair as the sexiest geek on earth, Simon was equally adept at focusing on his internal inheritances, his creativeness, and his ability to envision things both grand and small, including his genetic predisposition defer attention. “If I look half as good as you …”
“Shouldn’t you be focusing on what you’re going to say?”
Simon turned to Sam. Her sleek, black-rimmed glasses crowned a serious, yet attractive appearance. Her hair was long and black, and a few freckles beautifully speckled her cheeks, just below her lovely brown eyes.
“Speaking of focusing, you’ll sit at the back with Karen, won’t you?”
Samantha’s expression was disapproving.
“I think it would be better if all eyes were on me this time,” Simon added, looking back at the unopened door.
“You know that shade of green is clashing with your tie.”
“Oh, it is, is it?”
“Yes, in fact I’m going to text Sophia and tell her she can stop looking for the jealousy gene.”
Simon smiled, shaking his head slightly. He appreciated Sam’s competitive banter, especially before an important meeting. Intended or not, it had the effect of heightening his senses.
“Actually, that was the first gene she identified.”
Sam understood. “I should have known … a flawless sample so close at hand.”
“I’ve had her working on compliance for some time now. It’s proving very elusive.” He glanced toward Sam. “A painstaking endeavour.”
Suddenly, the door opened. Simon was greeted by Derrick. Without missing a beat, Simon’s Director of Operations passed the meeting over to him. “Good afternoon, everyone,” Simon announced, capturing the attention of the gathering. “Thank you, Derrick,” he said, striding in.
Simon took control of the meeting, exuding an air of authority at the front of the room. His confidence was further buoyed by Samantha’s smile as she prepared to take notes beside Karen.
“A famous American politician once said: ‘I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.’
“Bring them the real facts,” Simon repeated. “But what facts do the citizens of Illinois require? Would they be any different than the ones your iconic capital embraced? Perhaps, but in so far as we all benefit from evidence-based decision making, isn’t the pursuit of knowledge as much about recognizing a truth when we see it? The truth is out there,” Simon said, smiling. “It’s just damn hard to find sometimes, isn’t it?”
His audience’s laughter underwrote their concurrence.
“If the printing press gave birth to the age of enlightenment, I would suggest it was the library which brought the world’s collective wisdom within reach.”
The walls behind Simon lit up with images supporting his narrative. To his left and right, scenes of the Renaissance, historic, scientific and medical accomplishments, including their famous pursuers scrolled forth.
“Many see the internet as our greatest achievement. Others, the personal computer. Like the printing press, both endowed our fingertips with an unparalleled volume of information. The World Wide Web rapidly evolved into the largest library to which humanity had access. But the volume of intelligence became so vast, so quickly, that ninety-nine point nine percent of it will forever remain beyond the grasp of the human mind.
“More importantly, a similar figure is also presently beyond the comprehension of all but a handful of cognitive supercomputers. It’s called unstructured data. Text, the written and spoken word account for a full ninety percent of humanity’s collective knowledge.
“New books are being added to the virtual library faster than anyone could have imagined. Unfortunately, they might as well be written in a language that nobody understands. Sophia possesses the ability to interpret this undiscovered wealth of information. Text analytics and natural language processing allows her cognitive systems to mine terabytes, even petabytes of data. Imagine the world’s accumulated knowledge being filtered through wisdom itself. To put it plainly, with Sophia’s Halo Platform deployed on your behalf, the best of what the planet has to offer is only a key stroke away.
“Join the governing bodies who benefit from knowing which jurisdiction is successfully integrating autonomous driving systems, which district has optimized transit efficiency, the administration which is balancing the sharing economy with traditional modes of commerce. We will offer you several of the world’s most successful service delivery models. The choice of which to implement remains yours.
“We live in the age of data. Big data, in fact. Those organizations that place a high priority on gaining access to this resource will define the new era. It is a fact that analytically intelligent organizations are more than twice as likely to outperform analytical novices. We will deliver saving options to you and subsequently to the taxpayers of Illinois
.
“We suggest targeting three areas: government services, education, and healthcare. In healthcare alone, our studies suggest 30% of spending is wasted pursuing unachievable outcomes. Folks, the traditional approach is unsustainable; partisan pursuits, unaffordable. We can help eliminate the line items associated with outsourced consulting. Most importantly, we will reduce the budget for reinventing the wheel … to zero.
“Everyone in this room realizes what is at stake. Democratic institutions around the world are on life support. Moreover, every American citizen knows in his or her heart that the greatest democracy the world has ever witnessed has become ambivalent to success. Sophia can help. PurIntel can help you turn this great state around. You know our track record at the municipal level. We can do the same thing for you.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would let me conclude by quoting the same politician with whom I began. Abraham Lincoln once said, ‘My dream is a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of the earth.’
“Thank you all for coming today,” Simon concluded. Samantha quickly rose from her seat and joined her boss at the front of the room. “Derrick,” Simon stated, “Will you see to it that everyone’s needs are taken care of?”
Simon gave the representatives of Illinois one last confident smile. “Thank you, again, everyone. I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial relationship.”
Derrick closed the boardroom door after Simon and Sam walked out. Simon did some rudimentary arithmetic in his head as he walked down the hall. He knew his 5 to 10 % fee based on a sliding scale of the savings realized didn’t amount to much now, but it would in the future. More municipalities were coming on board, and with more state-level clients following suit, it wouldn’t be long before the Feds were making formal inquiries. That would be an entirely different animal, though. The federal government would be the platform to go global.
But Simon was proud of the fact that his career was never just about the money. He made his first fortune some years ago. In a different realm, the field of genetics, Sophia had a proven track record. Through the use of her incredible computing power, she was able to unlock many sequences of human D.N.A., obscure strings of which, until she came into being, were too complex and costly to map. It was Sophia’s ability to interpret the interrelationship of variables in unending equations, which launched her into a world of iconic fame.
“How’d we do?” Simon asked, walking alongside Samantha. They came to a stop at the threshold of Simon’s office.
Samantha smiled. “You had them eating out of your hand.”
“Mine or Sophia’s?”
“The complexion of modesty is much more attractive on you.”
“And what colour would that be?” Simon toyed.
“Crimson,” she said.
“Crimson,” Simon repeated, rubbing his hand over his cheek. “That’s got to look better than green.”
Samantha turned toward her own office. “You know where to find me,” she stated.
“At the colour wheel, no doubt,” Simon joked, before walking into his office. “New game, Sophia,” he announced. “You know which one I want.”
“Coming right up,” Sophia replied.
Simon plopped himself into his desk chair and waited for the glass screen to come alive. “You know what I want to hear,” he said, doing his best Bogart imitation. “You played it for her … you can play it for me.”
In an instant, Simon’s favourite Jeopardy episode appeared in front of him. “Sciences for $1000,” he stated, in unison with the real contestant. The show, recorded several years ago, was one that Simon rarely replayed.
The new host announced, “A learning computer, whose name represents eternal wisdom.”
The left contestant’s buzzer went first.
“What is the computer, Sophia,” the contestant stated, again in unison with Simon.
“That is correct,” the show host agreed, with Simon whispering along. “What is Sophia? The super computer that saved humankind.”
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