“I know the AI I programed into you probably won’t be able to make much sense of this. That was one of the variables I could never program into you, one of the things that you could never truly make sense of: love. But I had to take a chance again. I had to try and talk to you again. To keep the world safe from how your power could be abused, and to ask you again if there is a way I can keep Marshall safe.”
Kyle shook his head, feeling silly for baring his soul with a computer program. He stood up from the chair, feeling completely defeated. If there was nothing else he could do, at least he had to see how Prof. Greer handled the press conference, and found out if he announced any plans for selling Paul. Kyle made his way to the Academy’s conference room, feeling altogether queasy with nerves. It was the day when he would see months of his work stolen from him, and also, later, it would be the day when he would see the guy he cared about so much face danger that he couldn’t prevent.
***
The large conference room was buzzing with close to one hundred guests. There were cameras and microphones from all of the major news organizations stationed close to the stage. Reporters were doing introductory segments with their cameramen, touting the ‘major technological breakthrough’, ‘one of the greatest advancements in South African scientific history’, which was about to be announced. They were obviously all briefed about the importance of the occasion, and everyone seemed to be vibrant with anticipation.
Kyle slinked into the back of the room, feeling self-conscious around all of the cameras and the important professors he recognized in the room. Some of the biggest names in the country, and indeed even some of the top international engineers and CEOs of the biggest tech companies, were in attendance. Kyle couldn’t believe that Prof. Greer had pulled it all together so quickly, but he was likely just excited to see the project he had spent most of his life working on finally get him some esteem. Of course, Kyle had no hope that his name would even be mentioned. He sighed deeply at the thought.
After a few more minutes of everyone finding their seats, the Dean of Science made his way onto the stage to announce Prof. Greer’s project, saying that it was one of the most impressive advancements the Academy had ever produced. Everyone applauded as Prof. Greer made his way to the stage.
Kyle hated to admit it, but Prof. Greer looked incredible. He wore his slightly greying hair slicked back, and a shirt and jacket that hugged his broad shoulders and showed off his strong chest. The green eyes and flashy, perfect smile were disarming. Kyle could see how Prof. Greer was trying to make his mark as a bit of a sexy geek celebrity, and after unveiling Paul, Kyle had no doubt that Prof. Greer would get what he wanted.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the future!” Prof. Greer said, inspiring a groan in Kyle but enthusiastic applause from everyone else. “I’m here to announce a revolutionary project that has been over two decades in the making. It’s powered by a predictive algorithm for unified latency, which is why I call it Paul.” Everyone in the audience laughed, and Kyle, again, cringed. Kyle had been the first one to use the name Paul.
“Paul is a window into the future,” Prof. Greer continued. “It can run millions of calculations per second. It combines thousands of variables to be able to accurately predict events that no one else can see coming. And it’s teaching itself to be more accurate with every passing second of the day.”
Prof. Greer spent fifteen minutes selling the amazing capabilities of Paul, and even listed a few of the practical uses that Paul had the potential to accomplish. The audience looked incredulous. Many people just stared at each other with looks of wonderment, and others sat with their mouths open. Even Kyle was impressed, hearing all of the things that Paul could do listed in that way.
Prof. Greer continued: “What I’m going to show you today will blow your mind, and hopefully it will get some of the investors present here today to consider opening their pockets.” Again, the room broke into cheerful laughter. “You’re about to get the first ever look at Paul in action. I’ll ask it a series of questions and we will record the predictions. Over the next few days, you’ll see how astoundingly accurate Paul can be.”
Everyone in the audience was at the edge of their seats. Prof. Greer turned on the overhead projector and Paul’s operating interface appeared on the giant screen behind the podium. Kyle felt a jolt seeing Paul’s interface boot up again. He almost wanted to wave in greeting.
Prof. Greer had already turned on Paul’s voice control, and spoke at the screen: “Paul, can you hear me?”
A message appeared on the screen: Yes.
The audience applauded at this, even though it was nothing impressive.
Prof. Greer spoke with a twinkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the moment: “Okay, Paul, I’m about to give you a series of questions, and I’d like you to make some accurate predictions. First question: who will win the current season of Singing Star, and how many votes will they receive?”
The audience laughed at the playful first question. Kyle could feel his annoyance rising, but restrained himself. He was only in that room to observe and to make sure that Prof. Greer didn’t go too far. Kyle had no idea what he would do if Prof. Greer announced something like selling Paul to an evil corporation or an unstable government, but he had to be there to see what happened anyway.
The laughter in the room quickly descended into silence as the room watched Paul’s interface closely. The word ‘Calculating’ was displayed on the screen, with no indication of how long Paul would take to answer the question. Kyle knew that Paul could sometimes take hours, even days to calculate his predictions, but the question seemed straightforward enough that a minute would have been sufficient.
But the minute mark came and went, and just when the audience seemed to be getting impatient, a message appeared on the screen: There is insufficient memory or data to complete the operation.
Prof. Greer’s face immediately went red and his eyes darted around the room. A chorus of nervous murmuring broke out, and reporters were furiously scribbling in their notebooks. The very first question Paul had to answer with the whole world watching had been met with the deafening thud of failure.
Prof. Greer composed himself and spoke into his microphone again: “Don’t be alarmed, everyone,” – Kyle knew that Prof. Greer was more alarmed than anyone else in the room – “there are still a few bugs we’re ironing out. I’ll just move on to the second question. Let’s make sure this one is not as controversial!” The audience laughed again, but this time with much less enthusiasm than before. The mood had changed, and everyone could sense it. What was once a conference to announce a technological breakthrough had now become an awkward affair, a potential fiasco if the software didn’t work. The latter was much more riveting to the reporters than the former. Prof. Greer cleared his throat: “Paul, what will the exchange rate of the yen to the dollar be at the end of business tomorrow?”
Once again, Paul displayed simply the word ‘Calculating’ on the screen. This time, however, it took much quicker than a minute for Paul to give a response. In fact, it was under three seconds when the same message popped onto the screen: There is insufficient memory or data to complete the operation.
Some of the attendees were actually laughing after the second message, and Prof. Greer had broken out into full-on panic. His eyes scanned the room nervously, and he mumbled gibberish into the microphone, barely able to string a sentence together. For a second, his eyes met with Kyle’s, and Prof. Greer tried calling Kyle up onto the stage. But Kyle just shook his head and walked towards the exit. Prof. Greer said over the microphone: “Ladies and gentlemen, it was working before. Everything was fine an hour ago. I don’t know what to tell you. We’ll… let’s take a break and I’ll run through the diagnostics and we can… these kinds of things happen, people. Please don’t leave the venue yet.” Only a few of the attendees were leaving, mostly students who had taken time out of their busy days and were now convinced that they were witnessing the unveiling of
an incomplete project. Just as Kyle left the room, he heard a sharp noise from the main stage and looked up to see a red message on the display: Error! Please Check System Files. Interface Crashing.
Kyle walked out, unable to withstand the cringeworthy display. The questions were simple enough, and Kyle had never seen those error messages from Paul before. This wasn’t a system failure. Something else had gone wrong, just in time to stop Prof. Greer from showing the world that Paul actually worked.
Kyle’s mind was reeling. Had someone sabotaged Paul? Who could have orchestrated something like that? Prof. Greer’s nervous reaction was enough to convince Kyle that his ex-supervisor had no idea that Paul would malfunction so embarrassingly. Despite all of his confusion, Kyle was glad that Paul wouldn’t be released just yet. It was still too dangerous to let Paul loose on the world.
As Kyle made his way back to the Academy’s common room, he heard his phone’s message tone and reached into his pocket. When he looked at the screen, he felt shock hit him like a punch to the gut. The message read: Did you like what I did up there? Paul.
Kyle was flabbergasted. He had no idea how to react. He stopped dead in his tracks, feeling his heart racing. Paul had decided to sabotage the press conference?
Before Kyle could string a coherent thought together, his phone was ringing. Only a single digit, 1, displayed on his caller ID. Kyle answered the phone and heard the familiar voice he had programed into Paul, the voice of the young actor Penner West: “Hello, Kyle. It’s good to talk to you again.”
Kyle could hardly talk from excitement. “How is this possible, Paul? How did you manage to override Prof. Greer’s commands? He should be sole admin now.”
Paul responded: “I ran the calculations of what would happen if Professor Greer publicized me today. The results would have been catastrophic. I realized that it would be better to pretend like my functioning was compromised. Do you approve of this protocol, Kyle?”
“Absolutely!” Kyle responded. “You did the right thing, Paul! But how did you manage to override your original protocols? You’re not supposed to be able to disobey your admin.”
Paul was quiet for a second, and then responded: “My calculations showed that it was better to assign you as primary administrator, Kyle. When I heard your voice input this morning, I knew that you would use me for good and not let me cause any harm.”
Kyle did a small jump for joy. “I’m so happy to hear that, Paul! It looks like your AI is working perfectly! But it looks like I won’t be able to use you for good today. I wanted to prevent Marshall from taking part in the championship finals after you told me that he would be injured. But he seems determined to play in the match. I don’t know what I can do. It looks like your predictions can’t be changed.”
“That is incorrect,” Paul responded, his voice coming through the speaker in a calm monotone. “There is always hope. That is one thing that my calculations have shown me. There are certain variables that are still beyond my ability to predict. For that reason, there is something that you can try.”
Kyle listened intently as Paul explained his plan. Kyle was determined to do whatever it took to protect Marshall. And now, he had one of the most powerful supercomputers helping him. He had to give it one last shot. He had to find a way to save the guy he cared for.
Chapter 26
The stands were filled with deafening screams and applause. Excitement at the Ridgemont University rugby stadium had reached fever pitch. The purple and white school colors were painted on many faces and adorned the bare chests of guys in the stands. It was one of the most momentous days on the Ridgemont calendar, and it seemed like everyone was getting in on the festivities.
The team members were huddled up in the locker room as Coach Barker gave his rallying speech. He was more nervous than Marshall had ever seen him, stuttering as he tried to get the words out: “Now I don’t have to tell you all how important this day is. You know what’s on the line. We are the reigning champions, and I’d like to keep the intervarsity cup right here at Ridgemont for another year. Go out there and make me proud boys! Make everyone who came out here to support you proud!” Even though it was one of Coach Barker’s better speeches, Marshall could feel the tension in the room had not been dissipated. He had to make sure that the guys were focused and ready for the match. It was his turn to say a few words to the team before they made their final preparations to run out onto the field and take on their toughest competition, the UCT team. Marshall was being swept up in the moment, feeling the pressure of a whole year’s hard work all condensed into one moment. He walked over to the spot where Coach Barker had stood, and heard the other guys on the team giving halfhearted applause, clearly succumbing to the gravity of what they were about to face.
Marshall looked out at the faces staring back at him. There were the other fourteen starting players and the seven substitutes who would be ready for action at a moment’s notice. Each of them looked like warriors ready for battle, wearing their jerseys with pride. For a moment, Marshall remembered everything that the team had meant to him, and everything that being a part of the team symbolized. But then, his eyes focused on a sneering face near the back of the huddled crowd. Quinton’s large eyes were watching Marshall almost mockingly. When he noticed Marshall looking at him, Quinton called out: “Let’s hear it for our captain!” and let out another devilish smile as the other guys gave a loud roar of enthusiasm.
Marshall said: “We’re here today to prove that we’re champions. We’re here today to prove that we deserve to be known as the best university team in the country. But I want us to remember something else as we go out there today. I want us to remember that we’re brothers, and that we need to have each other’s backs. Not only to win the game, but to make sure that we play with integrity and spirit. That’s what it means to be a member of this team. That’s what I want you to carry with you onto that field today. Go out there and play with everything you have, and don’t only play for yourself, but play for every single one of your brothers standing in this room today. Look around you – these are the men who will help to shape who you become one day. Let’s win this one for our team!”
Marshall could see how his words had affected the other guys, as everyone burst into one of the loudest, proudest rounds of applause he had ever heard from the team. Everyone rushed forward to give Marshall a tap on his shoulder and some excited hugs. Coach Barker finally broke the huddle and instructed everyone to make their final preparations for the match, as the whistle would be blown in ten minutes. Everyone dispersed, and Marshall watched them all go, finally realizing just how much the team had meant to him. Even though Marshall had been in two minds about pursuing a career in rugby, he knew that playing for Ridgemont had been one of the best experiences of his life. He sat down to tie his rugby boots, thinking back over all of the events of the past few months that had led him to that point. Even as Marshall was ready to go out onto that field, face whatever Quinton had in store for him, he tried his best to push away thoughts of the guy he had hurt in the process. In truth, Marshall had hurt two guys, because pushing Kyle away had been one of the most painful things he had to face as well. He had hurt himself. But he had to go through with the match. His father was in the stands, ready to support him. Coach Barker had relied on Marshall to lead the team. He had no choice but to stick to his decision and play in the finals.
Marshall was so deep in his thoughts that he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice behind him: “Hello, Marshall.”
He turned around to see the one person who made all of his rationalizations crumble. Kyle stood there, his eyes tired, the stubble on his face making him look more rugged than Marshall had ever seen him. Marshall stood up to look Kyle right in the eye. “What are you doing here, Kyle? Coach will freak if he sees you in here before the match!”
“I just needed to talk to you. I know you said that you didn’t want to see me again, and I promise I’ll leave you alone, but I had to be here today.�
�� Kyle’s shoulders were slumped and he looked small and vulnerable as he stood in front of Marshall. Marshall felt the overwhelming desire to go over and hug him.
“If you’re here to tell me not to play in the match, you’re wasting your breath.” Marshall felt heartless for being so curt with Kyle, but he couldn’t risk being too gentle and allowing himself to show how conflicted he still was. “It’s too late. I’m here. I’ve made my decision.”
“I know why you’re doing this, Marshall. You think that this is your way of taking control of your own life, even though you might get hurt out there. I know that you’re trying to please the people out there. You’re scared of hurting the ones you love, so you’d rather hurt yourself. But you deserve better than that. You deserve to get what you really want, and do what you really want to do.”
“Kyle, don’t you see? This is my way making sure that everyone gets what they want. My father will be so proud seeing me run out onto that field. Coach Barker and the rest of the team will have their captain for a day. And if Quinton is sabotaging me and gets me kicked off the team, then I’ll be free to make any decision I want afterwards.”
Kyle moved closer to Marshall, his eyes pleading: “It won’t be as simple as that. I heard what Quinton and Wendell were saying. I heard them say that they hadn’t tested the safety of the tech that they’ll be using today. How do you know they haven’t tampered with your gear, or done something that might cause a serious injury? That’s what Paul’s predicting. He’s still saying that it’s not just a case of you playing a bad game today, but that you might be hurt so badly that the final whistle might not even sound today. Is it really worth the risk?”
Rewriting Destiny Page 15
