From across the room, Melanie’s and Lila’s ardent cries startled Dmitri. “Two of your opponents just swam beneath us!” exclaimed Melanie.
Dmitri stared at her and then turned to Greg. “Why hasn’t our challenger taken the bait?”
Greg didn’t answer. He looked perplexed, his eyes shifting frenetically as he studied the Speakeasy screen. “No, wait. Look here!” he exclaimed, his face brightening. He pointed at the latest numbers corresponding to Spelvin’s correlation coefficients. One of the two flat lines had sprung to life.
“What is it?” asked Seema.
“Look at the second correlation coefficient. It’s now trending upward since it’s correlated to the location of the previous cetacean symbol.” Greg’s finger traced the telltale curve on the Speakeasy display. “If he’d attempted to block us, we’d instead see the first correlation coefficient trending upwards, corresponding to the location of our previous symbol. There’s evidence of an independently developing strategy.”
“Ok.” With an anxious hand, Dmitri wiped the sweat from his brow. “For now, let’s just complete our first box and see what the response is. We were assuming a somewhat predictive level of gamesmanship. Maybe the whales are more sophisticated than we thought.”
When Seema transmitted the next symbol, the scoreboard tally of human-completed boxes incremented from “zero” to “one” on the big display.
“Last year I went to Vegas to play that MIT professor’s system for counting cards at blackjack,” said Andrew. “During breaks, I hung out at the high-roller table for the rush of watching thousands wagered per hand. This match, though, is more awesome than any high-stakes card game.”
“Yes!” cried Greg, pumping both fists. The next cetacean symbol extended the chain of dots on the whales’ side of the board. “This is what you’d expect for a non-beginner strategy. They’re building their own chain of boxes instead of blocking ours.”
“You’re right,” said Dmitri, peering at the display. “Look at Spelvin’s numbers. The value of the second correlation coefficient keeps going higher.”
Greg leapt from his chair. “I think we might have achieved first contact.” With cheers and backslaps, the SoCalSci teammates celebrated.
Lila and Melanie rushed over. “What happened?” asked Melanie.
“A two-player game seems to be happening, that’s what.” Dmitri hugged her.
They watched with fascination as two sentient minds dueled across the interspecies divide. From opposite ends of the virtual game board, the two chains of symbols filled the plot, each gradually converging toward the center. The endgame strategy, to complete the many potential boxes, would soon commence. Although the score was still “one to nothing” in favor of Homo sapiens, the Megapteran strategy had given them an opportunity to complete a short chain of boxes.
“I can’t believe it, Greg,” said Dmitri. “This interaction satisfies the Turing test in a way that Turing never imagined.”
“What’s the Turing test?” asked Melanie.
“Alan Turing,” replied Greg, “was the British mathematical genius who decrypted the German ciphers for the Enigma code machine during World War II. After the war, he published a famous paper that considered whether or not machines like computers could think. Since the concept of thinking was difficult to define, he proposed a test of a machine’s ability to demonstrate intelligence. The setup is a human judge who engages in a conversation with both a human and a machine where all three participants are placed in isolated locations. If the judge can’t tell the difference between the machine and the human, then the machine passes the test. In order to rule out the variability of spoken language, Turing’s conversation is limited to a text-only channel such as a computer keyboard and display.”
“Except that in the case of our own Turing test,” replied Melanie, “we’ve replaced the machine with a whale and the conversation with a game of logic.”
“Precisely,” said Dmitri. “If we didn’t know who was at the other end of the Speakeasy visual interface, we’d think we’re playing another human. I’m dying to see their next move.”
They didn’t have to wait more than five seconds. The computer-generated ringtone confirmed the first completed box for the humpbacks. In fact, their opponent had broadcast two consecutive symbols without bothering to wait for the next human response, as was their right according to the rules of the game for completing multiple boxes if they are available. The score was cetaceans two, humans one.
“Wow, pinch me please,” Seema exclaimed with a giant grin. “I’m the first human being, ever, to be losing to a member of another species in a game of X’s and O’s.”
When the laughter had subsided, Dmitri said, “I wish Professor McPinsky could be here to witness this—the inner workings of the Megapteran mind. It’s exhilarating.”
“Exhilarating is not the word to describe my feelings.” Gorman’s eyes were moist. “This is simply transcendent. Pardon the pun, but it’s a game changer. How the hell do we even begin to report this to the world at large?”
“The first thing we’ll do is distribute the raw data recordings to other research teams to validate our findings.”
“At this moment, I’m so glad I decided to be a signal processing engineer instead of a hedge fund manager,” Andrew grinned.
“It’s your move, Dmitri,” said Greg. “By the way, did you notice that our mystery opponent could have completed four boxes but opted instead to stop at only two and place the next move elsewhere?”
“Maybe they are just not as smart as we are,” Seema suggested.
At her words, a roguish grin raised the corners of Greg’s mouth. “So what’s your next move, Dr. Dmitri?”
“I almost forgot that it was my turn. Greg, why are you smiling? You look like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.”
“Oh, you’ll soon find out.”
“Okay. So it looks like we can fill in three more boxes. Go ahead, Seema.”
After Seema had completed the moves that Dmitri had instructed, the tally screen showed the humans leading by a score of four boxes to two.
“Oops.” The bell-and-whistle clamor pouring out of the speakers startled Dmitri. “We’ve been played for suckers.”
Their worthy opponents had flooded the screen with a nonstop series of symbols. The tally board rang out and flashed like a pinball machine as one box after another was completed in a super-chain. Greg couldn’t stop laughing. Once the carnival atmosphere of sound and video fireworks had settled down, Dmitri realized the cetaceans had tallied over twenty boxes. He also recognized there were not enough empty spaces in the grid for a human comeback. Dmitri sought his colleagues’ reactions and saw mixed expressions of wonder and crazed elation.
“Look, boss!”
Andrew’s booming voice and outstretched arm brought Dmitri’s attention to the game board monitor. At the very location of the last symbol placement, a familiar geometric pattern steadily emerged—the three concentric circles which presumably signaled “game, set, and match.”
A hush blanketed the control room, until Andrew finally spoke. “What just happened?”
“Remember a few moves back,” replied Greg, “when our distinguished opponent failed to complete the two boxes still available in his chain? It turns out he was gaming a strategic advantage at the expense of a temporary tactical sacrifice. We were simply outplayed by a superior opponent.”
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” said Lila, “the only whales I sighted near our boat are three juveniles. Dr. Dmitri, you’ve just lost to a child.”
“This is fantastic!” Dmitri enveloped Melanie in an effusive embrace.
Greg started whooping and hollering. He circulated around the cabin and slapped the hands of each member of the team in a high-five victory tribute.
“You mean the whales beat the people?” asked Mark, pulling at his mother’s arm. “How’d they do it?”
While the rest of the team celebrated, Dmitri took Mark
aside to play a quick game of Dots and Boxes. He tried his best elementary school teacher impersonation to explain how they’d used his mom’s Speakeasy program to play the game with the humpbacks. He sensed Melanie observing their interaction.
When Mark darted off in the direction of Gorman, Melanie sat down with Dmitri. “I’m sorry. I owe you an explanation. I meant to tell you earlier, but I wanted it to be the right moment. Once upon a time, Chris and I were a twosome. It started over five years ago, just after my husband moved off the island. After a couple of years, we realized we weren’t a good match, but we’ve been friends ever since, and he occasionally babysits Mark. They have a bond. In fact, when I said I was going away with you for the night, he agreed to take Mark. I thought for sure Chris would never suspect anything about our scheme to launch the experiment. It never dawned on me he’d bring Mark along when he heard the news about our getaway.”
“Mark will be fine.” His heart pounding, Dmitri reached out to cradle her hands in his own.
“Thanks for being so understanding.”
“Understanding, maybe, but still somewhat discombobulated.” He smiled at her. “Just give me some time to digest the news.”
“Have no fear. Like I said, it’s all in the past.” She left to tend to Mark.
The aroused voices of his colleagues recaptured Dmitri’s attention. He tried to sequester what he’d just heard from Melanie into a compartment he’d examine later, and was able to calm himself by remembering the expression on her face. It would be important to think of Gorman as an ally, not a rival. “Chris,” he said. “I’d like to contact Professor McPinsky and replay the video for him. Is there Internet access on this boat?”
“You’re in luck,” replied Gorman. “The tour company that operates this vessel caters to high-end clients looking for off-shore privacy in their scuba and fishing adventures. They confirmed they’d installed a maritime satellite link for the Silicon Valley CEO who frequently charters this boat. However, it’s not as fast as your typical home broadband connection.”
“It might not be sufficient for a hi-res Skype video session, but it wouldn’t matter if McPinsky sees a herky-jerky video feed. He’s primarily interested in the game symbol plots.”
“In the meantime, Lila and I will be upstairs observing the whales.”
After Gorman disappeared, Dmitri drifted back to Andrew’s workstation. “Chris just confirmed we have a digital satellite link. I’d like you to open up a Skype session on the laptop with the webcam.”
“Okay, boss. I brought some Ethernet cables to patch the laptop into the boat’s Internet router. I assumed you’d want to record the Speakeasy sessions, so I installed this external webcam and recorded the video session of the game we just played.” He pointed to the spherical camera mounted to the table.
“Great job, Andrew.” Dmitri slapped him on the back. “After we link up with McPinsky, let’s transmit the file to him. How big is it?”
“Since we’re only interested in displaying these slowly developing symbols, I selected the camera’s low-data-rate, black-and-white video option.”
“Cool,” replied Dmitri, looking at his wristwatch. “Let’s hope the video uploads in a reasonable amount of time. I’d better phone McPinsky, since it’s almost his bedtime on the East Coast. He’s an early bird.”
Following Gorman’s earlier instructions, Dmitri used the ship’s digital phone system to place a call. McPinsky answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello, Professor, its Dmitri. Sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I have some very good news to report.”
Dmitri summarized the events of the past twenty-four hours and described the details of the breakthrough interaction. He clicked on the switch for the speakerphone.
“This is sensational!” replied McPinsky. “I wish I were there.” His exuberant voice filled the room.
“Well, Professor, the good news is that you could be a virtual participant if you initiate a video-conference session on your home PC.”
“No problem. I can’t wait to see this.”
“I’m all set up and ready to link up with the professor,” said Andrew. It had taken him less than five minutes to connect his communication laptop to the local area network and to establish a link to McPinsky’s PC.
“Okay, Professor,” said Dmitri. “The first thing we’ll do is upload the video file of our just-concluded game session. Hopefully, it’ll take no more than a few minutes to transmit. You’ll be amazed by the strategy that our youthful opponents used to defeat us.”
“Youthful?”
“The only whales in the vicinity were juveniles.”
McPinsky chuckled. “This is too good to be true. Do you think you could challenge them to a best two-out-of-three match so that I can watch a live session?”
“It’s a possibility. Andrew has a webcam pointed at the Speakeasy monitor. We’re using it to record the game sessions, but we can also patch the feed over to your Skype link. Get ready to receive the old video file. Andrew just started the transmission.”
Lila burst into the room. “This is very strange, but Tony just reported a distress call from the Coast Guard. They’re under orders to arrest us and impound the boat.”
“What the hell?” said Greg.
“I overheard the news of your predicament,” said McPinsky from the digital ether, “and I detect the Captain Ahab specter of Dick Prescott.”
“Damn that guy.” Dmitri clenched both fists. “This ruins everything. They’ll confiscate the entire experiment, including our computers. We’ll have no proof.”
“You may not have the proof,” replied McPinsky, “but after I’ve finished downloading your video file, I’ll have it.”
“That’s right,” declared Dmitri. “Good thinking, Professor. I just hope the data transfer is complete before we’re boarded.”
The usually unflappable Gorman entered the control room in a frenetic state. “Lila, everybody, come upstairs quickly. Something really weird is happening!”
THE AQUARIAN GRANDMASTER
Leeward Waters, Maui
“Can you see the spouts?” Gorman aimed his binoculars at a distant location off the starboard bow.
“Just barely,” said Lila, squinting at the water’s surface. The sea shimmered like molten silver in the afternoon sunshine.
It wasn’t yet clear to Dmitri what had so aroused Gorman that, with the exceptions of Andrew and Mark, he’d dragged all of them upstairs to the forward starboard portion of the observation deck, adjacent to the pilot house. The only distinguishing feature was a peculiar pattern of smudges dotting the horizon.
“Take these,” replied the PICES director, handing the binoculars to Lila. “Look to where the blows are most concentrated.”
Lila peered through the lenses. “That’s strange. They’re occurring so frequently, sometimes in clusters.”
“This can only mean one thing,” exclaimed Gorman.
“So tell us already,” pleaded Dmitri. “What’s the big deal?”
“A hell of a lot of whales concentrated into a small area,” answered Lila.
“Exactly!” said Gorman. “They normally dive for five to seven minutes before surfacing to exhale in blows of three to four cycles. Based on what we’ve seen, I’d say there are at least forty whales. No one in Maui has ever observed more than thirty-something in a single pod.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Melanie. “Now I see what you’re talking about.” She guided Dmitri’s outstretched arm to help him locate the pod’s activity.
Lila clutched the binoculars, scanning the water as the boat rocked with the swells. “They’re rapidly approaching, coming directly toward us!” The words raced from her lips and Dmitri felt the tension mount.
“They’re not the only ones heading our way,” shouted Tony from the pilothouse. “I just received another message from the Coast Guard. They’re only a few minutes away.”
“That’s puzzling,” said Gorman. “When the news of your wildcat laun
ch was posted on CNN’s website, I contacted the manager of the tour company. I have a pretty good relationship with this guy. I gave him my personal assurance my team was in control of his vessel. That I’d take responsibility to track you down and return the craft. He seemed fine with it. Why would he change his mind and notify the authorities?”
Dmitri frowned. “Because we’ve been sabotaged by the same weasel who leaked the news of our experiment to the Enquirer. It’s that rat Prescott.”
Still squinting through the binoculars, Lila screamed, “Oh, my God! The pod is swimming in a circular formation.”
Gorman grabbed the binoculars. He surveyed the scene swiveling from side to side. “This is freakish. It looks like there are at least forty individuals maintaining a circular formation and advancing toward our boat. Not only that, they’re all traveling at the surface instead of diving. Oddly, there’s a single blow in the center of the circle. Lila, fetch a camera and a camcorder. We’ll need to document this or else no one will believe us.”
During the next five minutes, they watched as the cetacean flotilla completely encircled their vessel. Gorman and Lila were in constant motion as they juggled the video and still cameras.
Mark’s squeaky voice rose above the sound of the wind. “Mom, what’s happening?”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” replied Melanie. “The whales have made a circle around our boat.” She pressed him close to her hip and turned toward Gorman. “Chris. Do you think this has anything to do with the game?”
“What else could it possibly be? A major interspecies communication breakthrough followed shortly after by the most significant cetacean group behavior ever witnessed.”
The Whale Song Translation: A Voyage of Discovery To Neptune and Beyond Page 25
