We were expected by two men who were sitting at a medium-sized table where they had breakfast. Service robot 17 was also there and refilled coffee.
The room was decorated in a kind of antiquated way. Old-fashioned paintings hung on the wall and curtains covered the windows. Over the table hung a chandelier, whose LED lamps somehow didn’t quite match its antique design. A few potted plants decorated the room. Around the wooden table were six chairs in the same style. But only two of them were occupied. The leftovers of breakfast were spread out on the fabric of the tablecloth.
The two men turned their eyes towards us. The first one looked so inconspicuous that it would have been easy to overlook him in a larger group. He was between fifty and sixty years old, medium in height, not too fat and not too thin, and had an expressionless face without any special features. The other man was tall, about ten years older, lean, and had a shaved skull. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes were deep in his sockets. The hooked nose gave him something of a bird of prey. Above his left ear was a small device that looked like a hearing aid or an old-fashioned Bluetooth earpiece, although it seemed too big for that. But it was neither of them, but a device that some jokingly called brain prosthesis. This was not quite true, of course. It was rather an electronic extension of the human brain, connected to a chip in the cerebrum and directly to the auditory nerve. The device expanded the storage capacity of the human brain many times over and gave the wearer a photographic memory that forgot nothing. It also gave the wearer the digital processing power of a computer and, in addition, it could access external databases to which it was connected directly via a wireless connection. It has been claimed that this device could increase the intelligence quotient of its wearer by more than a hundred points. It was a new technology and I had never seen such a device in real life before, only in TV documentaries. The man was introduced to us as Mr. Rosenberg, the vice president of the New York Federal Reserve Bank. Apparently for a banker a simple human brain did no longer suffice. The inconspicuous man standing beside him was Mr. Jensen of Boston Dynamics.
After shaking hands with each other and exchanging the usual formalities we sat down.
»Please forgive us that we have already started breakfast without you,« Rosenberg apologized.
Neil O’Neil replied: »No, we would like to apologize for our delay. My associate, Mr. Dexter, had some car trouble.« And he gave me the evil eye.
»Glad you could make it anyway,« said Rosenberg. »What would you like for breakfast?«
»Oh, nothing. We are not hungry,« O’Neil replied.
»Oh, well, since you ask so nicely, I could use a cup of coffee,« I intervened. »And maybe one or two toasts, one scrambled egg, ham... maybe a glass of juice. Orange juice, if possible...«
Robot 17 took my order and confirmed everything with a picture on his screen.
O’Neil gave me a scowl. »That’s enough, Mr. Dexter,« he interrupted me. »We didn’t come here to stuff our stomachs.«
»But I’m hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat all morning,« I complained. Since I had the opportunity to get something for free here, I didn’t want to waste it.
Rosenberg smiled. »Why not? If he is hungry, let him get some food. Your employees seem to get neglected a little bit in this regard,« he joked. The face of Mr. Jensen remained completely expressionless.
I saw O’Neil boiling with rage inside. Grinning all over his face I completed my order.
The robot’s head segment turned to O’Neil and he said, »And you, sir, are you sure you don’t want anything?«
»Well, then bring me a cup of coffee too,« O’Neil growled.
»Yes, sir,« the robot confirmed.
It seemed somewhat bizarre how this walking gas pump perfectly imitated a human waiter. When I was a little boy I had always taken pleasure in provoking the first early models of these robots with absurd desires, such as a cup of grilled chocolate ice cream, until they went on strike with an error message and a human supervisor had to come and reset them and take the order. My parents had been embarrassed by this and one day I had gotten a slap for that. But with these new models it was unfortunately not so easy anymore. They were supposedly as intelligent as a human and would react with the same competence as a human waiter. At least that was what they claimed.
»Let’s get down to business. We should talk about the upcoming elections,« said Jensen.
The representative of Boston Dynamics looked like a robot, which was probably quite appropriate for his function. But of course he was not an android. The robotic replicas of humans were not yet so good that one could not recognize them by looking closely. The skin of the latest androids was still made of a kind of plastic and looked unnatural. It also felt different. I had shaken Jensen’s hand and knew that it had been human. Also, androids made quiet mechanical noises when they moved, which the manufacturers had not yet been able to eliminate. It was therefore always possible to identify an android clearly. Maybe some day the days would come when this would no longer be possible, but that day was still far away.
Neil O’Neil smiled. He loosened his tie. I knew that he hated ties and only wore one for today’s formal occasion. He didn’t feel comfortable with it, because it strangled his thick neck. »I thought that was the reason for our meeting.«
Jensen did not return his smile, but continued: »All polls assume that your party will win a clear election victory.«
»I agree,« commented O’Neil smugly.
Jensen continued unimpressed: »It is almost certain that you will win the majority in the House of Representatives, and it is quite realistic that you could also succeed in winning the majority in the Senate. This, together with the fact that your party has made the issue of the Human Dignity Bill a crucial point of the election campaign, has created an extremely dangerous situation for our country«.
»You mean an extremely dangerous situation for your company,« O’Neil corrected him.
»I mean an extremely dangerous situation for our company and our country,« Jensen continued. »You’ll have to admit that your party only brought this issue up for populist reasons, not because you really thought it was for the good of the country.«
»That’s an insinuation,« O’Neil protested.
Jensen ignored the objection. »With your majority in both houses of Congress, there is unfortunately a realistic chance that the Human Dignity Bill will actually pass next year.«
»And that would mean you could close your manufacturing plants,« O’Neil said with a superior smile.
»It would mean that we would have to move our production abroad,« Jensen corrected him.
»And that you would lose the important North American market,« added the senator, who visibly enjoyed his superior position.
»As an elected representative of the American people, you should above all think about the consequences for the economy and the citizens,« Jensen reminded him.
»I do. And I think that in the long run this will contribute to the well-being of the American people, even though in the short term during the transition phase it may have temporary negative consequences for the economy«.
Rosenberg interfered. »We would have to turn back all technology to the level that it was fifty years ago. That would mean that the Internet as we know it today would collapse. And the entire financial system would collapse. America would lose its ability to compete on the international market.«
O’Neil disagreed: »Even in the year 2000, the Internet already existed. Moreover, you forget that there are similar legislative initiatives in the Mediterranean Union and the South Asian Union. There are also preparations for an international convention in the United Nations that would level the playing field globally.«
Rosenberg beckoned. »That’s an unrealistic assumption. Do you seriously believe that the USEAN and the Union State will agree to such initiatives? I would have thought you were wiser, Mr. O’Neil.«
»I am not a fool,« the senator defended himself. »I am aware
that things will take time and that we must proceed step by step to bring the technological development back under control – put machines back under the control of man, and not man under the control of machines.« O’Neil was visibly proud of his wise sounding words. He seemed to think he was on a campaign platform.
»But that is precisely what this Human Dignity Bill does not do,« replied the vice president of the New York Fed. »It wants everything at once. Shutting down the current Internet, shutting down all machines. This is madness! Such an undertaking needs time; otherwise we will only have chaos. This bill at this time in the current economic crisis is rushed and foolish.«
O’Neil nodded. »I admit that we should... maybe... slow down the pace a little bit. The measures should be carefully considered to minimize any negative consequences. Sufficient time should be allowed for a transition period, so that technology can again be given a proper place in our society, which takes into account the interests of the people.«
In the meantime the service robot came back and brought our breakfast. O’Neil fell silent. Apparently he was uncomfortable to talk about this topic in front of a robot. After all, they were just discussing its shutdown.
The robot placed my breakfast in front of me and then filled a cup with coffee for Neil O’Neil.
When the robot had left the room again, the representative of Boston Dynamics continued the conversation: »Then I can assume that we all agree here that this hasty bill would be wrong at this point in time and needs to be revised.
O’Neil muttered, »I don’t know if I’d say that...«
Jensen went on to speak, »If we could count on the Human Dignity Bill in its current form not passing the Senate next year, even with a majority of Republicans, I could imagine that our corporation could support the campaign of a few select Republican senators through donations.
Now it was out. Jensen had more or less openly offered O’Neil money, if he voted against the Human Dignity Bill. I had no doubt that he would convince this corrupt son of a bitch, provided the number was big enough. From O’Neil’s thoughtful reaction Jensen correctly concluded that he had hit the right nerve and that it was now only about the details.
»As you know, I am not running in these elections,« O’Neil said. »My re-election is not due for another four years.
»That shouldn’t make much of a difference,« said Jensen. »In three and a half years at the latest, you’ll need campaign funds again...«
»A lot can happen in three and a half years,« O’Neil interrupted him.
Jensen did not let himself be put off. »Campaign support could be deposited up front in an offshore account, somewhere in the British Virgin Islands.«
»What about inflation? No matter what the amount, in a few months it will be worth only half of what it is and in four years it will certainly not be enough for an election campaign,« the senator said.
»As soon as we will have come to an agreement in this matter, you are free to dispose of the investment as you wish and invest in inflation-proof assets. Until then we can also deposit it in another currency if you wish,« Jensen offered.
»How much are we talking about?« O’Neil wanted to know.
Jensen replied: »I have not yet specified our proposal. We would also very much like to support your colleague in Michigan, McCain, in his election campaign. After all, it’s now in the final stages that every dollar counts.«
»McCain will win the election with or without your support. He will therefore not be particularly open to such a proposal,« O’Neil objected.
Rosenberg intervened. »But perhaps he will, if the proposal comes from a more insightful senior colleague, won’t he? So we didn’t approach McCain personally yet and we’re instead counting on your help on this.«
»Oh, so it’s two votes in the Senate right now,« O’Neil realized. Rosenberg nodded in confirmation.
Jensen went on to say, »We were thinking of a fifty million dollar campaign contribution for each of you.« O’Neil rolled his eyes and kept thinking. Jensen continued, »We are aware that in the case of McCain, who seems to be much more radical and less rational than you, some additional persuasion is needed. And since we’re among friends here, I want to be completely open with you.« He took out his smartphone from the inside pocket of his jacket and said, »Miss Palmer, could you please bring the documents«.
While these gentlemen discussed their business affairs, I enjoyed my breakfast. I was only half listening. For O’Neil this conversation might have been important, but for me it was much more important that I had breakfast today, as I had not had for a long time, and all that without paying for it. Meanwhile, I thought of this blonde Natasha, whom I had met this morning. I decided to call her this afternoon as soon as I was free. It would be a good idea to invite her to dinner, but at the moment I didn’t have much more money than the four thousand dollars O’Neil had advanced me for a new smartphone. Besides, I would need O’Neil’s car. I had to think of something to get him to lend it to me for the evening as well.
Meanwhile the door opened and a young formally dressed woman with Asian features came in. She had a bundle of computer printouts and a reader with her and handed them to Jensen.
»Join us, Miss Palmer,« Jensen invited her.
A certain silence fell and I noticed O’Neil staring at the young woman who had just come in. She was very pretty, but actually O’Neil was not one of those men who allowed themselves to be distracted by details like that. Jensen slowly leafed through the papers while O’Neil was still staring at the woman. I put the last piece of a toast in my mouth and looked at her. Now I noticed it, too. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about her. It was just some minor details. Her skin glowed a little strangely in a certain angle of light. She moved with extraordinary precision and made no superfluous movements, no nervous twitching of a finger, no sliding on her chair. At first it was only a suspicion, then it became a certainty. Miss Palmer was not a woman. She was an android.
I was amazed to which degree this model had been perfected. The differences to a human were minimal. Of course she had no natural skin, no organic flesh and blood. Her shell was made of a plastic material modeled after human skin. Nevertheless, I could notice a minor difference in the texture of the skin. It was a little too smooth, too perfect. The real difference between a human of flesh and blood and an android would always become evident from the weight. Especially the lithium-air batteries made androids much heavier than any human being. But I could only guess, since I hadn’t put her on a scale. I also believed to hear a soft mechanical sliding noise when she made a quick movement. But it was hardly noticeable and in any case much quieter than any android I had seen in my life so far. Miss Palmer had to be the latest prototype of a new android series from Boston Dynamics.
Jensen didn’t seem to notice the unpleasant tension in the room and continued as if nothing had happened. »We have been informed here of a very unpleasant story in which Mr. McCain seems to be involved. Apparently he is involved in a child pornography ring. Although he used anonymous proxy servers to connect to the Internet, the provider of one of the members of this illegal group has managed to trace the IP addresses. The members of the pornography ring have of course already been arrested. Now the FBI is tracking all contacts to this group. The provider had not yet passed these documents on to the FBI, and I am not sure whether there is sufficient evidence, but in any case, it could put your colleague McCain in a very unpleasant situation. This would be very awkward so close to the election.«
»Wait a minute!« O’Neil was furious. »What are you implying?«
»I don’t want to imply anything,« Jensen replied. »I’m giving you these highly confidential documents so you can see for yourself. Perhaps you should discuss the matter with your colleague in Michigan so that you can consider the possible consequences together. He moved the papers over to O’Neil. He skimmed through them, didn’t understand a thing, and handed them to me.
»Mr. Dexter, take a look at
this and see if there’s anything to it,« he said to me. Now this breakfast would also end up in work for me after all.
Jensen went on. »We also have here some older records from two years ago about a campaign contribution by the UniChem Corporation. »Didn’t you subsequently serve on the Senate investigating committee that cleared UniChem of all charges of illegal waste disposal?«
O’Neil jumped up. »Okay, that’s enough! I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking at all. This looks more and more like blackmail to me. If you think you can pressure me in any way with those trumped-up charges, you’re mistaken. I have nothing to blame myself for. And if you think you have any proof...«
»Senator O’Neil,« Rosenberg reassured him. »Nobody here wants to pressure you in any way. This is just an informal conversation, which we are conducting in all openness and in which everyone can openly state his concerns and reservations. Mr. Jensen and Boston Dynamics have no intention of causing any messy scandal right now, so close to the elections. That would be both unfair and inappropriate. We are all professional businessmen here. We don’t resort to such sordid methods.«
O’Neil was not yet satisfied. »Then why bring it up here at all?«
»I think that was indeed very tactless, Mr. Jensen,« Rosenberg agreed with him.
»And what’s the deal with this Miss... Palmer, or whatever you call her?« O’Neil continued, outraged. »She is an android. Why do you bring her... or it... or whatever it is to this meeting in the first place? Are you trying to insult me or something?«
The android remained silent, but I saw a nervous twitch in her eyes when she looked at O’Neil. It seemed bizarre. Were computers capable of being nervous?
Jensen replied, »Miss Palmer is like me an employee of Boston Dynamics. We were both sent to this meeting. It’s not unusual to send a mixed team to an important meeting.«
O’Neil was visibly irritated. »But she is not an employee of your company. I mean, she is... ...um... ...owned by your company in some way...«
Crusade Against the Machines Page 6
