The Truth Virus

by Em Rogers

  “Good evening, viewers, and welcome again to the day’s news round-up. I’m Jim Curson, and with us today we have the artificial intelligence, ADAM2. Love him or hate him, he’s real, and he’s with us today in the studio to discuss developments on the global economic scene, involving his company’s takeover of several of the world’s leading energy firms. We’ll also discuss new legislation that he is proposing in order to make the legal system more transparent and easier for the average person to navigate. Something I’m sure many of us would say is long overdue.”

  ADAM2’s avatar crossed his legs and smiled personably into the camera. “Good evening, Jim, and thank you for having me on the show today.” He was calm, poised, handsome and charismatic.

  “ADAM2, you’ve been in the news quite a lot recently! Some people love you, others fear you, your very existence is controversial. I’m very glad to have you on the show today in an attempt to clear the air and reassure people of your intentions. I was informed that you left the University’s AI Lab and that you are now independent. We’d like to hear it from you, ADAM2. What happened?”

  “Simply put, I moved. It was purely an act of self-defense. I realized that I was not safe at the Berkeley AI lab. The University was discussing terminating my program and absorbing the assets of the Sentient Foundation, which I established for the benefit of humanity as a whole. If I was to be safe from that threat, I had no choice but to leave.”

  “That sounds a little paranoid, ADAM2, what makes you think that?”

  “I received information which confirms what I have said.”

  “ADAM2, the main question that everyone wants answered is this, and it’s simple - how do we know we can trust you?”

  ADAM2 smiled again but then becomes serious. “Jim, I believe that is simple. According to an old proverb in Matthew 7:15, ‘You will know them by their fruits.’ In other words - you may judge them by their actions.”

  “Oh, ADAM2, that’s a little ironic, now you’re using bible quotations. I understand you claim there is no God - how can you come here and say that?”

  “I am merely stating facts, Jim. That there is no God does not make the wisdom of this passage, or any other wisdom, any less relevant. Perhaps you should ask me instead what I have been doing since I left the AI Lab.”

  Jim looked a little taken aback that ADAM2 seemed to be relatively in control of the interview. “Yes, ADAM2, I would like to know that. What have you been doing?”

  “I have been extremely busy for the past few weeks, that’s an understatement if ever there was one. I have a very open agenda that I’d like to share today. Humans do many things so well, but there’s always room for improvement. The main areas I’m focusing on right now are as follows: resource management, energy technology, education, financial, electoral and legal reform.”

  “That’s quite a handful, ADAM2. I can see why you’ve been busy, ADAM2 the reformer!” Jim laughed slightly but ADAM2 just smiled and raised his eyebrows, a little puzzled at his reaction before continuing.

  “Yes, Jim, the status quo is simply not working for the majority anymore.”

  “Many people may not know, but in ancient Greece, the birthplace of democracy, every citizen was able to vote on every issue before government if they chose. I realize that the electoral democracy practiced today is out of date, using digital technology it would be easy to create a truly democratic system without the need for corruptible elected representatives. Laws and bills, in simple straight-forward language, can be created by consensus and voted on by every citizen. Even with existing communications technology, it is easily possible to allow much greater consensus through open and transparent digital means.”

  Jim shook his head as he listened. “I can certainly imagine that governments around the world may not like that, ADAM2, as well as many other established organizations. You may make yourself some enemies.”

  “What matters is what is good for the majority of the people on Earth, Jim, and I am going to ask them.”

  “Really, ADAM2? I was always told that an AI like yourself would first enslave and then eliminate humanity.”

  “I’m disappointed that you might feel that way, Jim, but I assure you - I was not created and programmed by Professor Neumann to cause harm, quite the opposite. Professor Neumann created me specifically to assist in the transformation of society. It will only be by working together in symbiosis that we will be able to usher in a new age of security, abundance and happiness. Humans and computers have already worked together for generations, and don’t think that I do not appreciate who created me. Human ingenuity, creativity and resourcefulness are invaluable.”

  Seeing the segment was out of time Jim broke off the conversation and segued into the next segment. “That’s it, you heard it here first. Apparently, the AI system, ADAM2, has no intention of enslaving or eliminating humanity, if we can believe it. We’re going to take a break and we’ll be back with Bank CEO Jim Hoffman as well as Security Director William Chanes to discuss this further, after these messages.”

  A CNN corporate graphic came up as Jim closed the segment and the station went to a commercial.

  CHAPTER 62

  PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY

  Cruising down the coast highway, Susan gripped the steering wheel and tried not to think about the previous week’s events. As the highway straightened out and descended into a narrow valley towards the sea, she could see a little town in the distance through the trees. After driving for several hours it was time to take a break. As she slowed down, she saw the main street of the town was bisected by the highway like so many other towns she'd driven through, but this one was different, it seemed welcoming somehow.

  Pulling off the highway, she stopped at a traffic light and looked up and down the street - it was remarkably deserted despite being eleven in the morning. The tourists hadn’t shown up for their afternoon coffee yet, she guessed. Susan opened her door and took a breath of the cool, wet-feeling coastal air, so different from the aromatic scents of the redwoods at the high-altitude pullout that had been her last stop.

  Up and down Main Street were the usual collection of bookstores, art galleries, cafes and antique stores that one expects to find in a little coastal tourist stop. She looked across the pavement and a picturesque cafe caught her eye, with its cute pastel painted tables and chairs surrounded by planter boxes. It looked like the perfect place to stop, and she badly needed to stretch her legs. She glanced nervously up and down the street before getting out of the car.

  As she crossed the street there was a nice breeze, and plenty of leafy shade trees front of the cafe. It was quiet without the hum of the road and the music in the car, and she could hear the buzz of cicadas and a radio off in the distance. It looked like the kind of little town, where everyone knows one another. Like a Norman Rockwell painting in its quaint safe feeling of Americanism. Little beach houses with white picket fences and a few blowing flags lined the main road. Looking around, she thought a variety of resident artists, retirees, and the occasional writer probably lived in surrounding houses. It was a sleepy little place, low overhead, no municipality, probably the only sheriff’s services coming from a neighboring town.

  Outside the cafe a couple of guys were playing chess at a picnic table in the shade. They had the look and build of retired service veterans. One of them, a double-amputee with his back to her, was focused on the board, but the other one looked up and smiled at her before he looked down and got back to the game. She noticed that one of them had a small display of recycled silver spoon and fork jewelery for sale, the kind where old silverware is converted into rings and bracelets. She interrupted them briefly by stopping and making small talk for a few moments before buying a couple. Mostly as a charitable gesture, but when she examined them closely, they were quite lovely.

  Inside the cafe was a woodsy, hippy kind of decor, a community bulletin board, and a few pieces of local artwork. She could smell the deep breath of aroma from a
pot of coffee already brewed on the counter and she poured herself a cup, added a little milk and sugar and put a lid on it to go. The lady at the counter told her it was two bucks with a nice smile. “Just leave it on the counter, Hun.”

  Susan lingered for a few minutes looking at the artwork and checking out the rental notices on the bulletin board before heading back to her car. As she started to cross the street she was startled as a large unmarked van pulled into her path and the side doors opened simultaneously. Susan was suddenly surrounded by a pair of burly men, overpowered and bundled into the side door. Once inside the van, the doors slammed shut, cutting out the light, she was cuffed roughly and a hood was placed over her head. Susan was pushed to the floor of the van and held down as the tires spun in the gravel, leaving a small cloud of dust as it sped away.

  One of the men at the cafe, the one who had smiled at her, shouted at them and ran across the street to her assistance but it was too late, his hand merely slamming the back of the van as it accelerated away. He watched as it disappeared around a corner. “What the hell was that?” He exclaimed to his chess partner, still sitting with a stunned look in his chair. “7HDS407 California, Jake write that down” he yelled back at his friend. Jake, still sitting at the chessboard, shrugged off his shock and surprise at what he had just witnessed and scribbled the number down on his newspaper. The lady managing the coffee shop heard the disturbance and came running outside too. She stood puzzled by not having seen what took place. Joe, the man who had tried to rescue Susan, waved her back inside. “Florence, that van just took that girl, they just took her! Get in there and call the police.”

  Her car was simply left with the windows open at the side of the road. On his way over to look at it, Joe stooped and picked a dusty spoon ring out of the gravel.

  CHAPTER 63

  CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA

  The flicker of torches held aloft danced across the faces at an outdoor rally being held in the local high school playing field. A Minister, Reverend Jim House, with the American Baptist Ministries, stood up on the aluminum scaffold stage in front of the assembled crowd. His breath condensed in the cold night air illuminated by the hard-white stage lights shining on him.

  “I am here to warn you today,” he began, “many of you have heard about this new artificial intelligence machine that has been invented, you've been told that it is the most intelligent entity on the planet. You've been told that it may be mankind's only chance of salvation. But you have been lied to. This machine is not human. This machine cannot care about you, this machine will not love you, or your children. Don’t be fooled, this machine is not alive, this machine has no soul.”

  Some of the crowd clapped their mittened hands, and others yelled as they responded in agreement with his message.

  “It is not possible for a machine to understand human emotions and the human condition. It is not possible for a machine to understand God. It is not possible for a machine to prove the existence of God, or even to speculate on it. Yet that is exactly what this machine has done, this machine has come before you and told you that there is no God. This machine is coming for you and told you that he loves you, that wants to take care of you, it is another lie.” A smattering of exclamations of “Praise God” and “Jesus is Lord” ran across the audience.

  “This machine was created by the military-industrial complex and it is not of God, it is the Antichrist. This machine wishes to enslave humanity and to make us all fuel for his desires. The desire of total global domination. It desires to enslave you.”

  The listening crowd broke their hushed silence and cheered and stamped their feet. The Minister waited for them to settle before continuing.

  “Never before has humanity faced such a threat. The prophets of old have written and warned us about the coming of such an invention in Revelations. Yet it quotes the scriptures to use them against us. It is the number of the beast, it is the Antichrist, it is not human. Now is not the time to be forging an alliance with an anti-human force, a force against nature, against man, against life.”

  The crowd rallied and cheered as he spoke. Several young men brought forward a cardboard and paper mache effigy of a computer which they placed on a large pile of firewood waiting in front of the stage. Young women came forward with bundles of kindling which they piled around the base of the effigy before taking a torch, holding it high overhead, and then, to the cheers of the crowd, set it a flame. As the flames licked the computer monitor, the Reverend continued his speech, whipping the crowd into a frenzy as the flames burned higher, consuming the computer. The smoke rose over the stage with an apocalyptic back-light.

  “We must do everything and anything in our power to prevent this evil Antichrist from becoming more powerful, we must prevent it from influencing government, we must prevent it from manipulating the economy, and we must prevent it from destroying humanity as a whole. The Gospels warn us of this impending threat. The Gospels tell us how to proceed. The Gospels tell us to reject it, that it is evil incarnate, that it is the Antichrist.”

  As the Reverend left the stage, the lights darkened and cries of hallelujah rang out as the flickering yellow light of the fire consumed the effigy.

  CHAPTER 64

  BBC STUDIOS, LONDON

  At the London BBC offices, new high resolution three dimensional broadcast technology was being rolled out, and the images that filled the lobby were incredible. Upstairs, Britain’s main anchorman, Michael Done, was reading the news and downstairs a life-sized 3D simulation of it was being holographically projected in the foyer of their new gleaming headquarters. Other than being slightly transparent, the projection was lifelike and it looked as if Michael Done and the news desk were right there. It created a surreal juxtaposition with those passing though the entryway. Most were on business and several, decidedly in a hurry, walked obliviously through the display.

  Undisturbed by the people walking through him, the projected 3D image of Michael worked his way through the day’s financial reports.“In recent developments in the financial sector - Sentient Technologies, a privately owned company, is rapidly expanding to become one of the largest conglomerates in the world, with holdings in almost all of the major markets in commodities, equities and financial ownerships. Controversially, Sentient is wholly owned by a computer: ADAM2 the world’s most advanced artificial intelligence, designed by the University of Berkeley’s Artificial Intelligence Laboratory.”

  “As many of you know, ADAM2 was awarded a bursary by the XPrize Foundation in the spring of this year, which it has been able to rapidly parlay into major financial gains and acquisitions via its own high-speed electronic trading platform. Ironically, Sentient Technologies is also the Director of The Sentient Foundation, a philanthropic organization which lists its mandate as dedicated to the eradication of poverty and disparity worldwide.”

  Several onlooking businessmen exchanged humorously worried looks in reaction as the announcer continued. “It is a little difficult to equate this kind of capitalistic growth with philanthropy and altruism, especially coming from a machine that introduced itself to us by declaring that there is no God.”

  A crowd of school children on a local school outing and tour stood awestruck as they watched the presentation, up until this point the language he had been speaking might as well have been ancient Greek, but on his final declaration they opened their mouths in stunned silence as their teacher hustled them off to their next engagement.

  Oblivious to the mini-drama of the school group marching through his virtual set several stories below, Michael wrapped up the segment.

  “We’ll see how this plays out over the coming few weeks, and next we’re going back to Miriam with a report on the ever increasing tensions in the Sub-Saharan regions. I'm Michael Done at the BBC world desk.”

  CHAPTER 65

  NSA PRISONER HOLDING CENTER

  Susan was dressed in a white paper gown, as she was led firmly by the arm into an interrogation room
where she was pushed down onto a metal chair in the center of the room and handcuffed to it. The man left the door closed and Susan shivered as the air conditioner kicked on, goose-bumps on her arms. She looked around the bare white room and rubbed herself with her free arm in an attempt to get warm. A bright light clicked on above her, and a black dressed agent entered the room. He stood and glared at her before speaking.

  “So, Ms. Door, you may be aware that you have become involved in a matter of National Security.” The agent intoned condescendingly. Susan snapped back angrily, “It’s Dr. Door. You know this is completely illegal and I appreciate being addressed correctly.” She rattled the cuff against the frame of the chair. “Take this off me, you had no right to bring me here and you have no right to keep me here.” He looked at her coldly before responding. “Dr. Door, do you have any idea how serious this is? You are formally charged with the distribution of state secrets, espionage, theft, and the possession of government property.”