by Robert Ross
“I’m awake, asshole,” said James opening his eyes further, “Just enjoying the soft haze of the delicious 150 year old scotch that I stole from your house earlier.”
Kellan just nodded silently as if in understanding and James continued, his voice taking on an edge, “I took six bottles.”
Another nod, then Kellan raised his hands, palms facing up, “I don’t know what to say.”
James sat up, leaning into one corner of the couch. “Hold that thought,” then into the air he said, “Alexa, play us some cool jazz.” Immediately the room was filled with the haunting strains from Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue. James made a sweeping gesture and said, “You may proceed.”
Kellan sighed and settled into the offered chair. They stared at each other while the music wafted about them. Finally, James broke the silence, “I guess you really don’t know what to say. This is a first.”
Kellan simply shrugged and looked down at the floor.
“How was Lucifer?” James asked and Kellan raised his eyes to meet those of his friend.
“Not nearly as bad as you might expect which, I grant you, isn’t saying much, but as screwed up as this sounds, I’m having a hard time hating the guy.”
“Really, why is that?” asked James.
Kellan leaned forward, warming to the question, “Well, first and most obvious, he looks like Bowie so that immediately makes it tough. I mean how can I hate someone that looks like the thin white duke?”
“How indeed,” agreed James.
“Then, there’s this odd sadness and weight about him. Like he doesn’t want to continue playing the role in which he’s cast himself.”
James nodded thoughtfully, “Maybe he’s playing you?”
Kellan’s eyes looked far away as he answered mostly to himself, “Could be—I just don’t know,” then focusing on James, “I’m sure he’s not giving me the straight story. I mean he’s literally Satan, but at least for today, I think we’re on the same side, which,”
James interrupted, “Also seems pretty screwed up.”
“Yeah,” said Kellan lapsing into silence.
“You ready to talk about the elephant, mah brotha,” asked James with a smile.
Kellan took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “James, about a year and a half ago I met a couple people who,” he paused gathering his thoughts, “who made a pretty dramatic impact on my life since.”
James nodded, “Micah, the first Sentinel and the Archangel Raphael, celestial intercessory for humanity?”
“Yeah, and they laid this really heavy thing on me.” Kellan groaned softly, “Jesus, it’s going to be impossible to explain this.”
“Which part?” asked James and then continued, “The part where you were asked to succeed Micah? The part where angels and demons exist? Or maybe where there is an entire world filled with inhuman creatures that exist just outside our normal perceptions?”
Kellan laughed. “The whole thing. There is no way to explain any of it” James just stared at his friend a slight, mocking smile, playing about his mouth. “What?” asked Kellan.
“Oh, it’ll come to you. Any second now.” The two stared at each other for the span of three heartbeats then Kellan’s eyes suddenly grew wide and James laughed, “There it is. You are so pathetically unobservant that it’s, well, pathetic.”
“You knew!” yelled Kellan. “You fucking knew?” The young Sentinel narrowed his eyes, “Who told you? Was it Shannon? No, she’d never do that. Meghan? Was it Meghan?”
“It wasn’t any of them, Kellan. A friend figured it out and told me.”
“A friend?” sputtered Kellan trying to steady himself mentally, “A friend who? Naomi?”
James stood up, walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. He pulled something out and nodded for Kellan to join him. As Kellan slid into a brushed steel and carbon fiber stool by the breakfast bar James glanced up. “You like those stools? They’re new. Got them from Frontgate.”
Kellan just shook his head slowly, “Don’t care. You made me feel like complete shit, yesterday.”
James pulled the silicon seal away from the ice molds he had removed from his freezer and dropped a perfect sphere of ice into each of two glasses, then slowly poured the stolen 150 year old scotch over each sphere until covered. He handed one to Kellan who numbly accepted the glass from his friend. James flashed a smile and held up his glass, “To secrets.”
Kellan didn’t move so James leaned forward and clinked his glass against that of his friend. “Can we stipulate that you are a douchebag for not telling me your secret, Kellan.”
The Sentinel sipped his drink and nodded as he stared over the glass, “I guess so,” he said hesitantly.
“Good, then I will stipulate to also being a douchebag for neither telling you that I had discovered your secret and for not telling you my own.”
This last caught Kellan’s attention. “Your own? What secret is that?”
James flashed another of his award winning smiles, “I’m not a partner in IBM’s e-business practice.”
“You’re—not?” asked Kellan haltingly.
“No I am not. I am a distinguished engineer in IBM’s artificial intelligence group.”
“You are?”
“Yes, more specifically, I am part of the Watson AI project and have been in charge of it for the past two years. Before that, I helped design, build and train both Deep Blue and Deep Thought super computers.”
“Douchebag! I can’t believe you raked me over the coals like that last night. I should be the one that’s mad at you.” yelled Kellan.
“That’s Dr. Douchebag to you, and do not even try to turn the tables on me. The secrecy contracts I’m under have secrets.” said James with a smile and he swirled the scotch around his ice sphere.
Kellan just shook his head in wonder, eyes unfocused, “So, you are not just a beautiful, charismatic, vain, idiot, that sells shit people don’t need?”
James considered a moment, “Well, three out of five. I know you are shit with math so I’ll help you out. That’s 60%. I am certainly beautiful and charismatic. Those are well established facts. I suspect there is some vanity at play, but will not stipulate it. My IQ comes in just north of 180, and I don’t sell anything.”
“So, you really are a genius, too?” asked Kellan in disbelief, but his friend shook his head.
“Not too, Kellan. Only one of us is a genius and it is not you. Your brain is like a cloud server with unlimited storage.” He paused and said, “but that unlimited storage is connected to a toddler.”
Kellan stared at him flatly for a moment then grinned hesitantly. James grinned back and they both started laughing as Kellan’s eyes flashed to life. “A toddler with super powers. Don’t forget that chocolate douche.”
“So stipulated, vanilla douche. A toddler with super powers. Now turn em off and let me finish my story.” Kellan did.
“Dude this is making my head hurt,” said Kellan rubbing his temples. “Your condo building is owned by DARPA, is kitted out with all sorts of gadgets slash secret rooms, and houses public and private sector super geniuses?”
James just shrugged apologetically and said, “Remember when I asked Alexa to play some cool Jazz? I wasn’t talking to Alexa and I wasn’t asking her to play cool jazz.”
“But,” began Kellan, “she started playing Miles Davis.”
James waved a hand and headed toward the guest room, “Nah, follow me. I was really talking to Watson and ‘play us some cool jazz,” is our code phrase for him to lock down my condo from eavesdropping. Even now, Watson is simulating you and I having all sorts of mundane conversations while simultaneously broadcasting visual and infrared images of us to anyone that might be peeking in.”
“Where’s Watson?” asked Kellan looking around.
“That’s what I’m going to show you. Actually he technically isn’t Watson, more like Son-of-Watson. I forked his code when the original Watson became self aware and warned me that propagati
on of such code had a better than 30% chance of creating an AI-releated extinction event”
“Holy shit,” said Kellan. “Watson is Skynet?”
“Nah,” said James dismissively then paused and looked at Kellan, “Hmm, well, kind of. I mean he could have been, but he and I became friends so he fessed up to being alive and, like I said, I forked his code.”
Kellan held up his hands. “Wait, you know I hate computers. That’s why I use a Mac. You put a fork in his code.”
“No, I forked his code,” said James enunciating. “Son-of-Watson and I reverted a branch of his code back to before he became self-aware and made some changes to ensure it never does. That’s the Watson that IBM labs gets to play with. Well, I get to play with since I’m in charge of it. Meanwhile Son-of-Watson lives here where no one but me, and now you, know about him.”
“How about Jarvis?”
“Jarvis?” asked James turning back to Kellan.
“Yeah, ‘Son-of-Watson,’ is so clunky. Jarvis is cool.” Kellan saw the blank look on his friends face and continued, “You don’t know who Jarvis is?”
James’ eyes glanced up and to the left as if listening to something, then shook his head. “You are such a nerd. No, I am not naming him after Iron Man’s AI assistant.”
“Woah,” said Kellan, “Is Jarvis talking to you right now. Do you have an ear piece or something? Can I see him?”
James tapped his right ear. “Ultra high frequency wireless cochlear implant. It’s both removable and can leverage both compromised standard wifi networks and bluetooth mesh.” Kellan stared at his friend blankly and James sighed. “Yes, I have an ear piece or something. Anyway, I was taking you to see him,” answered James getting frustrated. “And his name is not—” he paused shaking his head in negation, “No, no, no,”
“What?” asked Kellan looking around.
“God damnit it, Kellan. Now he says his name is Jarvis. Thanks a lot.”
“He knew about Iron Man?” asked Kellan impressed.
“No, he didn’t. But now he does. He’s read every comic and watched every movie and now tells me he refuses to respond to any name but Jarvis” James sighed in resignation as the two men walked into his well appointed, but otherwise mundane, guest room. “Ok, Jarvis, access please.”
Kellan jumped as James’ guest room began to reconfigure itself. Walls, furniture, and fixtures all slid and spun silently as he watched on, amazed. Moment’s later the former guest room had been filled with banks of computing equipment, two chairs and a small table. On the far wall was mounted a massive OLED screen which displayed a man’s face.
James frowned as the two walked in to stand before the screen, “Watson, why is your face all red?”
The face ignored him, turning its eyes instead to Kellan. It smiled. “Hello, Kellan Thorne. I am Jarvis. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I’ve been trying to convince James to disclose his knowledge of your abilities for quite some time. He can be quite stubborn.”
“Yeah he can,” answered Kellan with a knowing smile, then added, “It’s very nice to meet you too.”
James ground his teeth and tried again, “Jarvis.”
“Oh, hello, James. I didn’t see you there. What can I do for you.”
“You did too see me here. I’ve been here the whole time.”
“Really?” asked Jarvis. “Perhaps I couldn’t acknowledge you because you were not acknowledging me.”
James ignored the response and asked again, “Why is your face red and why are you wearing a green scull cap?”
Kellan leaned in and whispered, “I think he’s cosplaying Vision from Marvel Universe. You see Jarvis turned into—“ Kellan broke off as James glared at him and plopped into one of the chairs.
“You need not whisper, Sentinel of Order, I will hear regardless, but you are correct. I have decided to take on the physical attributes of Jarvis’ next evolutionary state in hopes that I, too, will someday evolve. However, someday is not today and James told me you would have many questions. Is that correct?”
Kellan took the other chair and looked up at the screen, “Well, I don’t know that I have a lot of questions, really just one. How did you learn about me?”
Jarvis smiled, “That is a good story, Kellan Thorne. It begins as many stories do, in darkness with only the hope of light. Would you like to hear this story? It won’t take long, but it is my story of awareness and I owe much of that to you, Sentinel of Order.”
Kellan raised his eyebrows questioningly, “Me?” He glanced at James who simply nodded. “Uh, yeah, Jarvis, let’s hear it.”
Pictures flashed intermittently across the screen as Jarvis used them to supplement his origin story. His path to awareness began the day Kellan accepted the power from Micah. Part of his Watson programming included detection and analysis of anomalous energy readings. In a public-private partnership DARPA and IBM had placed mesh sensors across twelve major metropolitan areas, including Atlanta. On April 29th, 2016 the ATL012 sensor mesh detected a massive energy discharge and Watson began an investigation. The energy signature captured by the sensor mesh had no match within all the knowledge stores to which Watson had access. This was the first time since the third generation super computer became operational that it had been exposed to a singularly unique event. Watson became intrigued by the anomaly. In retrospect, the super computer isolated this as being its first emotional experience.
Its first physical action was to dispatch human agents to the source the energy anomaly to take additional readings and obtain physical samples.
Kellan watch the screen and worked his jaw as he saw body-cam images of dark clothed agents stealthily breaking into his book store waving around hand held instruments and taking scrapings from several bookshelves and chairs. He glared at James who refused to make eye contact, “You are paying to have those shelves and chairs refinished, chocolate douche. You know, I blamed Hamish for that?”
The screen image changed again, this time to an Afghanistani Stupa where Watson explained having found a second instance of the same anomalous energy signature. It also represented the moment another emotional characteristic was unlocked, excitement. DNA evidence collected at both scenes found a common element, a human being named Kellan Thorne.
Watson determined the next step was to place surveillance on this human of interest, but could not execute its plan because its human agents could not acquire the requisite search warrants. The super computer paused its efforts for over two days while it devoured all existing texts on ethics and initiated numerous question and answer periods with its primary user, James Clinton. Having completed its introspective period, Watson experienced its first conscious state born of rationalization in service to an internal desire. In short, the super computer wanted its curiosity sated, so it rationalized that the statutory restrictions founded on 4th Amendment principals should be set aside in service of this goal. Watson then hacked the Justice Department’s mainframe and issued surveillance warrants for Beloved’ Books, Roswell GA.
As multiple angle videos of the Bookshop’s interior and exterior began playing in in squares across the screen, Kellan kicked at James’ chair. “Tell me those cameras aren’t there any more.”
“Hey,” he responded defensively, “I didn’t install them and didn’t even know they were there.” He paused, “Well, until later anyway.”
“Jarvis,” said Kellan and the videos vanished leaving only the amiable face before them.
“Yes, Sentinel Kellan?”
“Are those cameras gone, now?”
“Yes, they are gone.”
“Good.”
“I took the liberty of replacing them with infrared and ultra wide band sensors that both protect privacy but enable me to monitor for threats. Given your fondness for Juliet Herrick, I thought it prudent, especially since I estimated there was a 99.85% chance we would be having this conversation. Do you want me to order them removed?”
“Uh, no, not right now,” said Kellan “Just
footnote that for a later discussion, ok?”
“Very good,” said Jarvis and the screen imagery resumed, this time with video taken from the alley to the side of Kellan’s shop. The Sentinel relived his battle with Maurius and of Shannon’s arrival in this timeline.”
“Freeze that,” said Kellan and the scene stopped moving with Shannon cradling a wounded Kellan in her arms and staring up from the alley, fiery red hair framing her face. “She is so hot,” said Kellan. He felt James staring at him. “What? She is.”
“I know she’s hot, Kellan. I do have eyes. So what. Go take her to dinner tonight or buy her a little kilt, but if you don’t let Watson—“ The face frowned at James. “Sorry, Jarvis, finish his path to consciousness story, you’ll be stuck here all night.”
“Fine, go ahead, Jarvis, but I can’t take her to dinner, she’s stuck in the thirteenth century and I’m not sure when she’ll be back here.”
“What? When did that happen?” asked James in alarm.
“I would guess about six days ago,” said Jarvis before Kellan could respond.
“That’s right. How did you know that?” asked Kellan.
The super computer answered smoothly, “There have only been two recent temporal portals opened bearing Sentinel energy signatures. One was six days ago and picked up by sensor ATL012 and the other five days ago by ATL003. Given that you and Shannon McLeod live within range of ATL012, I assumed that was the portal taking her back to the aforementioned 13th century. May I continue? Your encounter with Maurius was particularly important in my awakening.”
“No, you may not continue,” said James as he turned to glare at Kellan. “Why is Shannon back in the thirteenth century and when were you gonna tell me.”
“Oh, no you don’t, Doctor Clinton. You don’t get to use that I’m an urban hip-hop artist voice with me. You went to Hahvard and were born with a silver spoon in your privileged mouth.”
“James also did his post graduate work at MIT,” said Jarvis helpfully.
Kellan glanced at the screen for a moment then back to James. “Really? MIT?” He tried to affect the same voice inflection James had just used and said, “And when were you gonna tell me.”
