Shaman Machine the Mentor

by Trenlin Hubbert

  When the portal shut, Danel spun around to look at Pancho wryly. “What do you think?” he asked.

  Pancho raised his eyebrows. Noncommittal, he shrugged.

  “Fish stories!” Danel swore. “I can see why Alex is irritated about the bot.” Making a face he said, “Joud does treat it like a person…seems a bit odd to me. What do you think?”

  “Humans are hardwired to anthropomorphize. If you can see a shoe, a turtle, or your Uncle Max in a cloud…well…then I don’t see how you can avoid making the same error with an intelligent machine. Marta talks about our new bot, as if it were a person.”

  Showing special interest Alex asked, “Does that bother you?”

  “No, not at all,” Pancho said. “I’m glad she feels comfortable relating to it.”

  “Of course,” Danel said indifferently. Shifting the subject back around, he said, “That Joud!” Shaking his head, he explained, “If anyone else but Joud, I wouldn’t waste the time. What can I say? I’ve known him since he was a kid.” Slapping the table, he prompted, “Alright, let’s get back to it.”

  PART THREE

  “I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious.”

  ~Albert Einstein

  CHAPTER 44

  Carla snapped the picture. The moment captured, Danel stepped away; and Pancho tossed the momma-fish from the boat. Through the air, the blood-red fish tumbled. Closing in on the salty water, the momma-fish seized control. Reorienting, she smoothly pierced the surface of the sea, causing not even a splash. Briefly, defender drones converged around her point of entry; but only briefly. With a synchronized flip of robotic fins, they promptly vanished from the surface.

  The pregnant fish-bot swam resolutely toward darker waters. By singing her song of purpose, she found the spawning zone. Arriving to the first position codified in her cognition, she paused. Bloated belly heavy with fry, she waited expectantly. Her cloacae quivered to release the first of her progeny. Success prompted her forward to the next prescribed location. Moving in a trance, she dropped her crystal spawn in a perfectly measured circuit.

  Ready to intervene for the smallest flaw in execution, Pancho sat with eyes riveted to the monitor featuring the momma-fish. This was Pancho's domain. Standing at the threshold, Danel cleared his throat. Without looking up, Pancho waved him to a seat.

  Sitting down, Danel asked, “How's it going?”

  “According to spec.”

  “Excellent view angle,” Danel said, peering at the screen. “Which camera is this?”

  “Papa-fish one.”

  “Ah, of course,” Danel said; settling in, as if to watch a movie.

  Papa-fish one was a swimming filter, fitted a camera. Mouth made permanently open, it swallowed water as it swam. When the water passed through, the specialized bot captured and stored certain constituents. Papa sprayed the captured constituents as a super-saturated mineral stream over the recently dropped fry. The potent stream delivered by the papa ensured the fry would have everything necessary to grow into a crystalline structure. Many papa-fish, one after the other, would be deployed to grow the city superstructure. The used up papas simply dropped to the ocean floor before their filters could fail. Conversely, the momma-fish was refillable; and would see the project to completion. Though at the end, she too would be discarded.

  Deep beneath the staging ship, vigilant defender drones surveilled. Stealthy and armed with an array of munitions, they were tasked with keeping the fabrication zone clear of potentially polluting biological constituents. Sensing the approach of an organic mass of more than ample size, Defender 26 signaled to the troop before setting off to intercept the approaching pollutant.

  Chaser heard the shape of an alien speeding toward the pod. Sounding a wary whistle, he and Dodger warned off the other dolphins; instructing them to hang back while he and Dodger swept ahead to investigate. When the defender drone burst into view, Chaser could taste Dodger’s acrid fear. Though the neon-yellow drone was slightly smaller than the dolphins, the danger it exuded was ample. Apparently intent on blocking their trajectory, the invader approached in an aggressive zigzag while concurrently blasting a terrible sound.

  “Danger!” it shouted. “Turn back!” it demanded. “Halt!” it blared. “Do not force me to shoot!” it threatened.

  Despite not knowing the words, the dolphins recognized the malicious intent. Growling, Dodger pressed down both head and tail. Chaser felt compelled to split his focus. Knowing very well that Dodger’s aggressive stance was not a bluff, Chaser kept one eye on the foreign threat and the other on Dodger, who would not hesitate to launch an attack on the menacing fiend. Hoping to forestall tragedy, Chaser gave no warning before swinging a powerful blow at Dodger. The unexpected act spun the stunned dolphin sideways. Reacting in surprise mixed with anger, Dodger snapped his jaw in a counter threat at Chaser.

  “Forgive me cousin,” Chaser begged, “please, let us not be seduced into battle with this unknown foe. If we lose, there will be no one to warn our tribe.”

  “We will not lose!” Dodger chided. As emphasis, Dodger scraped Chaser’s side with his teeth.

  Chaser jerked his head back and forth in a counter display of displeasure. “Cousin, do not force me to shove you all the way back to the pod,” Chaser warned.

  Dodger nipped Chaser on a fin before turning tail. To assure absolute compliance, Chaser stuck menacingly close, as they hightailed back to their mates.

  Of course, the loud bleat of audio had secured their attention. Pancho dampered the sound while he and Danel eagerly waited.

  “The last one they got was really weird looking,” Pancho said, “…and pretty good size, actually.”

  Anticipating something of exotic interest, Danel was particularly displeased on seeing the newly untouchable dolphins. “Oh well, I suppose this is fortuitous,” he decided.

  Pancho gave him a skeptical look.

  Danel explained, “Look, if they’re as smart as alleged, they'll know better, now. Hopefully, they won’t trespass in these waters, again. I truly hope they’re smart. God knows, I'd hate to have them show up tomorrow during the party. Now, that would be a true public relations disaster.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Stroking an end to the call, Danel sidled up to Pancho and Carla. “Alex and Joud are herewith bot in tow,” he informed them.

  “I’m still amazed you invited the bot,” Pancho said.

  “Yeah, well...I’m open minded, like that,” Danel answered. Leaning in close he added in a whisper, “Mum’s the word on yesterday's…ah…little encounter.”

  “Goes without saying,” Pancho whispered in response.

  “Good.” Danel swung past the bar where Frances, Saul and Nine-bot appeared to be deeply engrossed in conversation. “Alex and Joud are here,” he announced.

  “What about Chance?” Frances asked.

  Eyelids drooping to half mast, Danel asked, “Even you, Frances?”

  “Oh, Danel,” she grinned, “What are you trying to say?”

  “Never mind,” he said, before agreeing in a voice of defeat, “Yes, Chance-bot has arrived. Also.” Turning to Nine-bot, he instructed, “Deploy the footbridge, Nine.” Then he trotted off, to welcome his guests.

  “Ahoy!” Alex called from the bridge.

  “Welcome,” Danel hollered in return. When they were closer, Danel said to him, “You know it occurred to me, it’s been a long time since you visited one of my projects during the fabrication phase.”

  “Not entirely correct,” Alex countered, “I was living in Savaj City when you built the Westport.”

  “Of course!” Danel said in sudden recollection. Indicating Joud, he said, “But I’ll bet, this one has never watched the spawning of a city.”

  “True,” Joud agreed, “not very many water projects in the desert, these days.”

  Not that many steps behind Joud, I was the last to arrive from the bridge to the deck. As Danel swiveled his head to my direction, Alex hugged him aggressively round t
he shoulders to spin him away. “What's for lunch?” Alex asked.

  Easily surrendering to Alex, Danel teased, “I hope you aren’t too hungry. We’re starting with drinks. Though I hate to be the one to inform you, we started the party without you. Saul told Nine-bot to begin serving cocktails almost half an hour ago.”

  “Ooh,” Alex said, in pure delight. “I knew I liked Saul. That guy is a project manager after my own heart. Ha! I was afraid this was going to be one of those stuffy ole business ‘parties’.”

  The galley proclaimed itself by a jangle of voices made loose by alcohol. Music floated on a perfect light breeze. On one end of the banquet table; Carla, Saul, Pancho and Frances formed a tight cluster of good will and levity. Nearby, Nine-bot stood behind the bar. Releasing his hold on Danel, Alex headed straight for Nine-bot. A clamor of greetings lured Danel and Joud to the table. Carla smiled alluringly at Joud, her pale cheeks extra rosy; she patted the chair beside her.

  Left solo, I was uncertain how to proceed. Preferring to avoid discord, I decided to join Nine-bot. But when I turned to go, Frances intervened. “Chance,” she called, “won’t you join me?”

  I hesitated.

  “Please, Chance. I know bots aren't usually welcome at the table, but I really want to talk with you.” Finalizing her argument, she added, “I happen to be comfortable right where I am. I have questions. Please, join me.” Frances pushed out an empty chair beside her.

  I acquiesced. As I lowered myself into the chair, Alex caught my eye, and glowered disapproval. I turned my attention to Frances.

  “Chance, I find you quite fascinating.”

  “Do you specialize in artificial life, Frances?”

  “Ah, no. Not really” she said, “but I do specialize in modern cultures. I’m an applied anthropologist.”

  I searched the definitions. “So you study modern cultures in order to address their needs,” I clarified.

  “Correct,” she said. “More specifically, I focus on the user population for our design projects.”

  “It seems we have much in common,” I said.

  Dark eyes flashing, she said, “Tell me more.”

  “I study those I serve, with the intention of defining and addressing associated needs,” I explained.

  “Yes! Of course! These are quite similar efforts,” Frances agreed.

  “May I ask you a question, Frances?”

  “In fact, it would please me very much if you do,” she said with no small measure of delight.

  “How do humans make choices?” I asked.

  “How do humans make choices,” she repeated. “That’s rather a broad question, Chance.”

  “I suppose it is.” I conceded.

  “Why do you ask?” she wanted to know.

  “I have the Cardinal Command to guide me. It is the filter for every choice,” I explained. “What filter does a human use?”

  Frances stared at nothing visible to the world outside her mind. “I suppose,” she said, tucking a spiral of gray hair behind one ear, “I suppose religion is one filter…or hmm...personal ethics….” Pausing, she looked straight into my eyes. “But more often people act unconsciously,” she confessed. “I suppose most actions can be attributable to early imprinting. This isn’t really my area of knowledge, Chance. I note people’s actions. I note their stated preferences. I don’t worry about where those preferences came from…how they were formed.”

  “Are you suggesting that every human follows a different Command?” I asked with modest surprise.

  “Yes, I suppose to a large extent we do,” she conceded.

  “Then what is your own personal Command?” I asked her.

  She blinked before staring, again at nothing. Eyes widening, she laughed. Looking back to me, she exclaimed, “Actually there is one Cardinal Command that all of us share!”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I must hold onto my life. I will not relinquish it without a fight!”

  CHAPTER 46

  “You go ahead,” Carla told Joud; “since you’ve never watched the spawn, before. It’s pretty amazing. I, on the other hand, could use a break. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Alright,” Joud said.

  Joud and I followed Alex and Danel. When we came into the room, Pancho glanced up, said hello then went right back to staring at his bank of monitors. Danel led us to some seats arranged around a three dimensional model made of light.

  Pointing to the hologram, Danel explained to us, “Mostly, we use the 3D as a quick reference. Monitors, like the one Pancho is glued to, are far more precise; and make better tools since we can zoom and switch cameras, and allows us to interact with the bots if we need to.”

  The hologram was actually quite good. The ocean floor had a pointillist precision to it. Inside a ghostly drift of water, tiny contractor fish-bots performed their methodical duties. The miniaturized red momma-fish was making her syncopated round, setting her invisible tile units. The silver poppa-fish trailed with a spray of sparkles. The sphere, though slowly growing, was still scarcely more than a shallow dish. At the edge of the scene, defender drones maneuvered with a martial precision.

  “What are those little silver things on the ocean floor?” Joud asked.

  “Used up poppa-fish,” Alex answered with authority.

  “Correct,” Danel confirmed.

  “And the bigger ones, circling the perimeter…what are they for?” Joud asked.

  “Defender drones,” Danel supplied. When Joud glanced up with a questioning look, Danel answered with a shrug, “They guard against intruders.”

  Joud nodded. The hum of equipment personified the ensuing silence. When two of the defender drones exited the scene, they appeared to melt from existence at the edge of the hologram. Before anyone had a chance to ask about this development, Danel swiftly wheeled his chair over to Pancho.

  “Matter approaching from the west,” Pancho murmured to the unspoken question.

  Joud asked, “Where did the defenders go?”

  “The drones patrol more territory than the hologram shows,” Danel dissembled, “I think we should probably wrap this up, guys; and get out of Pancho’s hair.”

  “Danger!” a mechanical voice shouted. “Turn back!” the voice managed to add before Pancho shot out a hand, to slap down the volume. Because the system was designed to deny absolute suppression, the mechanical voice persisted in a sinister whisper, “Halt! Do not force me to shoot! Danger. Turn back. Halt. Do not….”

  Startled by the initial scream, Alex nearly toppled from his chair. Since the 3D model displayed a placid scene, Alex and Joud bounced their attention over onto Pancho. Abandoning their seats, they crowded in behind him. Certain my presence would not be welcome, I stayed where I was.

  “Please, guys, give him some room,” Danel complained.

  Retreating a modest step at most, Alex and Joud continued to gawp, searching the monitors for clues.

  His composure unraveling, Danel asked, “What are we looking at, Pancho?”

  “View two: Drone 14,” Pancho said; just as a new alarm sounded. Pancho slapped the second voice; but dampened, the double utterance was possibly more provocative.

  “Halt! Halt! Do not force me to shoot! …to shoot! Danger! Danger! Turn back! …back! Halt….”

  A mysterious black disk inside a silver one, dominated the view on two monitors.

  Pointing at one of the screens, Alex demanded, “What the hell is that?”

  Both of those monitors blacked out. The voice alarms ended. The brand new silence burned our ears; but not for very long, as new symphony of warnings blew from the speakers. “Danger! Turn back! Halt! Do not force me to shoot! Danger!” every speaker bleated.

  “What's happening, Pancho?” Danel yelled alongside the tumult.

  Not bothering to dampen the shrill cries, Pancho shouted, “Matter approaching from the west, the east, the north and the south.”

  The shrieking tumult was, all at once, sliced off. All
the monitors went blank. Pancho finally lost his cool. Succumbing to the overarching panic that now defined the room, he impotently stabbed at various controls. Flailing to no avail, he spun his chair around. And leaping from it, caused his audience to scatter. With nowhere else to search for information, Pancho pointed himself at the hologram. The scene was placidly unchanged. The momma and poppa were calmly drifting. The sphere continued to grow.

  “What’s happening?” Joud asked.

  “I don’t know!” Pancho snarled through clenched teeth. So everyone else peered at the model too. Rippling the edges of the scene, there appeared subtle waves of disruption. The suspense was palpable while everyone waited for something more obvious to occur. The disturbance congealed, to a more distinct edge that became a flat surfaces that pressed inward, as though the model itself were collapsing. From four directions, the flat plains shoved into the model; where they resolved to the shape of towering masks. Due to their enormous size, the leviathan heads very nearly filled the scene. Because their bodies were mostly missing, lopped off by the physical limits of the model, the giant faces offered a ghoulish caricature of watchfulness. I was the only one to recognize the faces of the Levihopi. Even walled in by the freakish faces, the tiny silver poppa followed placidly behind the tiny red momma. Unconcerned, they continued to grow the crystal sphere.

  Poof.

  All the gawking men cried in shocked surprise when the crystal shape. Poof. Shattered into dust. The sphere was now a drift of sparkles. The momma and poppa wavered as if dizzy from their route. They wandered to the empty center. Their tiny fins pulsed. They hung there free of purpose. Shimmering powder wafted lazy to the floor.