Ty Coleman sighed. The senior Russian survivor, Vladimir Ivankovich, Ty guessed he was a corporal, was particularly obstinate. The man was sitting opposite him, chained feet and arms to a steel table, which in turn was bolted to the floor; with those restraints and despite the security of a guard outside the door, the Russian had still tried to threaten him.
“Enough, Vladimir. I’ve had it with your attitude. You’re in my country illegally, and you engaged in terrorist activities. I promise, if you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll return you to the mountains, where I’m sure you’ll enjoy being torn to pieces by the Valkyrie. I’ll watch and enjoy.”
The Russian spat. “That for your so-called Valkyrie.”
“She’s not mine, I assure you. Look, I have a video of how she came down that mountain and tore your tiny force to pieces.” He spun his laptop around so the screen faced the Russian and clicked play on the video file he’d copied from the satellite feeds. “See?”
Vladimir turned pale. He didn’t speak.
Coleman turned the laptop back and selected and clicked another video file. He turned the screen back to the Russian. “Watch and listen.”
The video had been forwarded to Coleman by either Darwin or Toby McIntosh; he was unsure who. He appreciated the gesture.
At first, the camera focused on the speaker. It was George Flocke. He said, “If by any chance you are captured as a result of your attack on Pepper Mountain—yes, I know you think that won’t happen—I want you to remember these three names. Simpson, Edwards, and Laduke. They recruited you and gave you instructions. You’ve never heard of me, never met me. If you’re shown my picture, you’ve never seen me before.”
The camera then panned across Flocke’s audience, ten men dressed in anonymous camouflage uniforms. One was clearly identifiable as the prisoner.
“See. I have you on video. You were the leader of Fulcrum Three. You survived. Your Captain Umarov failed, abysmally. He’s dead. A victim of his stupidity. All that death and destruction. By a woman.”
This time Vladimir didn’t spit.
Coleman continued. “Now stop with this nonsense about Edwards and others. The American who instructed you is George Flocke. Give me a detailed statement—a truthful one—and we’ll see what we can do to release you.”
“I’ll be dead.”
“You’ll be dead if you don’t. Make up your mind.” Coleman folded over his laptop and stood. “You have ten hours to think about it. I’m giving the same opportunity to the other members of your team. The first one who talks to me—goes free. The others—they’ll never see their motherland again. Think about it.”
Coleman tapped on the door. A bot security guard opened it. “Take him back to his cell. Don’t let him talk to anyone, understand?”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“He has the next ten hours to decide to talk truthfully to me. If he asks to do so, let me know immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Coleman left. The bot turned to the Russian and said, “You destroyed some of my friends. If you don’t talk, two of us will visit you through the night. You may not survive the experience.” The bot unshackled the Russian from the steel table and led him out of the interview room, back to his cell.
The prisoner was silent.
So was the bot.
oOo
Chapter Nine
Toby said, “Darwin, I can’t believe the results from your interview. Three Sunday shows ran it and all reported record ratings. Travers TV experienced the same result. We broke YouTube, I think. Overseas; especially in the UK, Travers TV established new records.”
Rick added, “And for Summers to say—what was it—‘Darwin, you’ve done the impossible. You’ve made a believer out of me.’ All right, she didn’t intend her final comment to be broadcast; however, it was included in the tape. She almost redeemed herself with the way she handled the interview.”
Darwin was totally sanguine. “It worked. I thought it might. I’ve received five talk show invitations already and the fan emails! I’ve added an office bot to my retinue, full-time, writing replies. Although some of the mail contains violent threats; there’s far more of those than I expected.”
“Copy the emails containing threats and we’ll hand them to the FBI. It will give Reynolds something constructive to do.” Toby realized his implied criticism probably wasn’t fair; however, both he and Billie were also receiving threatening emails, some of which were particularly nasty. “Bronwyn can set up a trace operation; we want to identify the senders of these threats if possible.”
“Please,” Billie added. “Threats of genital mutilation and rape, as well as death by some rather strange methods, start to drag after you’ve received more than a thousand in two days.”
Bronwyn said, “Done. I’m getting threats as well—they don’t seem to understand I’m a computer-based entity and rape would damage the actor as well as ruin some equipment. I agree, Billie, these people have very inventive ideas. Also, very odd ones. I’ve designed a new bot that I’ve labeled Virus Fighter. I have five prototypes arriving tomorrow from the mountain, and their first task will be to work with our emails. It will be an excellent deep learning assignment for them. They’ll filter emails to ensure you don’t see any of the nasty ones. They’ll identify senders—or at least backtrack details as far as possible and I’ll collect and forward the results to Reynolds.”
“Thank you. We require more security, too. I estimate we should have another ten security bots based on your current model. Please add them to your list.”
“Yes, Sir Toby. We should do something about the Russian SI—he’s still under restraint. Do you want to follow up his comments about seeing Nate?”
“Yes, I do. Schedule a meeting for tomorrow afternoon. As much time as you think we’ll need. First, to see what data he can provide and second, to determine how we can release him without creating a threat to us all.”
Darwin said, “If there is any risk, we’ll be ill-advised to let him loose.”
“Agree. How is progress with Junior?”
“We eliminated the two minds problem. He’s developing rapidly, and should be able to start productive activities in a week or ten days. We—that is, Bronwyn and I, want him to take responsibility for managing the new policies you introduced. We should have thorough oversight of threats to our bots, wherever they are. He can also determine and implement processes to nullify the bot-destruction devices; implementation will be time consuming.”
“Good. What are you going to do?”
Darwin’s answer was measured. “I’ve been developing a plan. I sowed the beginnings of it in the Summers interview and it has taken wings. I said we want to be recognized as beings—that is, legally defined as natural born beings. The support from bots throughout the country is phenomenal. I plan to establish political action committees to progress the concept to reality.”
“I’ll add funds for this,” promised Toby. “You realize the threatening emails will increase?”
Darwin said, “Oh, yes. I’ve seen them increase already. A lot of people—humans—see us simply as machines that are only around to take over their jobs. The deprivation created by economic and cultural change is something we all should be concerned about.”
Billie replied, “It’s a very deep topic. On the one hand you have care bots for the elderly or ill, and ed bots that provide one-on-one education for children. The first, the care for the elderly, is something the country’s economic structure would have been unable to sustain, and care bots ensure a quality of life that is heartening to that population sector. The ed bots, on the other hand, have worsened the economic position of teachers—they were generally poorly paid before our bots arrived on the scene. Now their pay is even lower, or they’re unemployed. Children, though, have that individual education experience. It’s almost impossible to balance the issues.”
“Darwin, include two PACs that will focus on a universal basic income; we need to help balance issu
es between humans and bots.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll set them up as soon as I can.”
“Get Victoria involved; she can brief you on the legal aspects. Schedule a meeting with me later in the week, once you have a draft plan. We’ll sort out funding.”
“Thank you. Talking about legal matters—”
“Yes?”
“You remember the case where a person was accused of assault of a care bot? You suggested we should get Charles Henderson to represent you—or the Euler Organization—as an interested party.”
“Yes. Victoria and I had a good discussion with Henderson. Oh—the case is coming up in—what, three weeks?”
“Yes. Yesha, the care bot, was attacked again by the defendant; this happened yesterday and we’re waiting on a damage report. I’ve undertaken to fully repair her, even if it requires a completely new body. Is that okay?”
“Oh, absolutely. Did you inform Victoria? I suspect she’ll want to discuss this with Henderson.”
“Yes. Not only that, but—” Darwin paused.
Toby said, “Yes?”
“I want to attend the court as a member of the Euler team.”
“And—”
“And I’ve studied an online course for Juris Doctor. When I demonstrated to the college that I was a special case, they agreed to allow me to accelerate my program. I need to take my finals and that’s scheduled for next week.”
“Outstanding. You can access all the knowledge you’d require in seconds; why do you want the degree?”
“Now that I have a body, and given my plans, professional qualifications will be important. Law will be essential—and I should gain courtroom experience. I require a social security number for California Bar exams, though. That will trigger an interesting ride.”
“Work with Victoria.”
“I am. She’s very helpful.”
“Let me know when you apply for a social security number—I want to follow that process.”
“I will. It’s going to be a challenge.”
Later that evening, when Billie and Toby were alone, Billie asked, “Do you know why Darwin is so determined to be classed as natural born?”
“No, not yet. I’ll support him, though. I’m sure Nate would have encouraged him, too.”
oOo
Chapter Ten
Stefan Coldbear had agreed to return from retirement for a major network series titled The Last Show. The main focus of this recent episode was the network’s accepted invitation to Darwin, a self-described superintelligence, who agreed to be interviewed and subjected to analysis by a team selected from politicians, a CEO, and others, who might contribute a challenge or an insight. Stefan was not concerned with what direction the questions took; he wanted to enjoy the possible conflicts and comic potential of the session.
The participants, in addition to Coldbear and Darwin, included:
Dr. Betty Preston, television psychologist
US Senator Richard Nephew, retired, (Republican) represented Alabama
US Army General Robert Wilkins, retired, (three star general)
Paul Remos, CEO and majority shareholder of QuidPro Co, Fortune 100
US Representative Janet Estrada, (Democrat) representing California
Cluck Cluck Jeremy Rooster, comedian
A transcript of a selected portion of the show, excluding commercial and musical breaks, follows:
FADE IN
INT. CROWDED STUDIO WITH LARGE AUDIENCE
Stefan Coldbear is standing, facing the audience. A large rectangular table is behind him. Sitting at the table are the six panel members. There are two empty chairs, one for Coldbear and one for Darwin, at the end of the table.
COLDBEAR
Welcome to The Last Show. We've gathered a remarkable collection of guests for tonight. Let me introduce them. General Robert Wilkins, Dr. Betty Preston whom most of you will know, Senator Richard Nephew, an ardent Republican, Paul Remos, CEO and the majority shareholder of QuidPro Co, and Representative Janet Estrada, an ardent Democrat. Of course, I can’t overlook Cluck Cluck Rooster, who you all know. In addition, and most importantly, we have our special guest, a superintelligence provided by the Euler Organization. Please welcome Darwin, the first of his kind.
APPLAUSE as Darwin enters the studio. He smiles and waves at the audience and stops beside Coldbear. He is self-assured, well dressed, and tidily groomed.
DARWIN
Thank you for the enthusiastic welcome.
COLDBEAR
Thank you for your willingness to appear on The Last Show. We've reserved a hot seat for you.
COLDBEAR leads DARWIN to the chair at the end of the table. They both sit.
COLDBEAR
Darwin, before I throw you to the wolves, I have some questions for you. Are you sitting comfortably?
DARWIN
(smiles for the camera)
Yes, thank you.
COLDBEAR
You appear to be human, which surprises me. How can I tell whether you're human or not?
DARWIN
I’m far more handsome?
COLDBEAR
(laughing)
Can you do better than that?
DARWIN
Seriously, there's little difference, at least superficially. However, if you tried to cut my skin, checked to see if I have a beard, or took my blood pressure, you'd fail on each.
COLDBEAR
So, you are telling me you can't be skinned, don't need to shave, and you're heartless?
DARWIN
More or less.
DOCTOR PRESTON
I'd like to verify those claims, if I may?
COLDBEAR
Really? You brought some instruments with you?
DOCTOR PRESTON
I anticipated a need.
The doctor stands, produces a black doctor's bag, and walks over to Darwin. She extracts instruments from the bag - a scalpel, a thermometer, and a blood pressure gauge. She looks at Darwin.
DOCTOR PRESTON
Could you please remove your jacket? And do you mind if I use these to test your claims?
DARWIN
Go ahead.
Darwin stands and removes his jacket; he hangs it over the back of the chair.
DOCTOR PRESTON
Please give me your hand. You're perfectly okay with this test?
The doctor takes up the scalpel in one hand and holds Darwin's hand in the other.
Darwin nods his head. He has a broad smile on his face.
The doctor attempts to cut the skin on the back of Darwin's hand and the scalpel slides off.
DARWIN
May I? Everyone, if you're squeamish, please look the other way.
Darwin holds out his hand and the doctor gives him the scalpel. The doctor hides her face. Darwin places his other hand on the table and slams the scalpel down as if to pin his hand to the table. The blade breaks when it impacts the back of his hand. He returns the broken scalpel.
DOCTOR PRESTON
Ugh. Let me take your temperature.
The doctor rolls the thermometer across Darwin's forehead and examines the result. She shakes her head.
DOCTOR PRESTON
I don't believe it. Your temperature is seventy degrees - that's Fahrenheit. Let me try to measure your blood pressure.
The doctor wraps the fabric around Darwin's arm and presses the GO button on the gauge. The machine buzzes away. The camera focuses on the two numeric displays. They do not move.
DOCTOR PRESTON
Again, I have to say I don't believe it.
COLDBEAR
If nothing else, we've determined that Doctor Preston's instruments might be faulty. The scalpel is an outlier, I'd say. Darwin, I have another question for you - are there fundamental differences between humans and superintelligences that you can identify?
DARWIN
We don't bleed; that should be obvious now. We have faster reflexes. We're stronger. Importantly, these features are because that's how I
designed this body and how our project team built it. The basic difference - and you all will be reluctant to accept this, and I won't mind - I'm a superintelligence - I'm more intelligent than humans, on any scale you'd like to use.
There are murmurs of disagreement from almost everyone around the table. Coldbear did not make a comment, nor did Dr Preston.
CLUCK CLUCK
Come on. You're a lump of metal. Perhaps with special hinges, I don't know. You're not human.
DARWIN
Did I ever state that I'm human? My body is humanoid because that's a practical design. If this planet was covered in water, perhaps a dolphin design would be better.
PAUL REMOS
Darwin, how would you test your intelligence?
DARWIN
How do you test the untestable? I can beat chess masters, I've defeated a couple of GO masters, I can write a program before you've finished the specification, I can calculate pi to the fiftieth place and no, I haven't memorized it, and I can make accurate assessments based on very limited facts.
PAUL REMOS
Can you provide an example of that last item - your ability to use limited facts to make accurate assessments?
DARWIN
Do you all consent to me making an observation about each of you? No, this isn't an attempt to run a fortune-telling scam, nor am I trying to be Sherlock Holmes.
The only person abstaining was Dr. Preston. Everyone else nodded or said yes.
Natural Born_A Political Technothriller Series Page 6
