by D S Kane
“Yes. But it won’t take us as long to re-create what we had. Maybe just a month.”
Glen was sure that if they had to reconstruct the code from memory and then test it, they would never be able to complete a working AI by the contest’s deadline. He faced all the team members. “We have no chance of succeeding. So, I quit.” He walked from the conference room and headed toward the building exit. He thought, I need a drink.
But as he continued thinking through the implications, he saw a small loophole that he could try using to extricate himself from the Russians. If every one of the teams has been crippled by the hacks, then there’s nothing there for them to get from me. He stood silent for a few seconds until the aftermath of his failure began dawning on him. But if I’m no longer their useful idiot, will they eliminate me as a loose end? He didn’t want to die. And he didn’t want his mother being tortured to death.
* * *
Samantha watched Glen storm out from the meeting. Now her stock in this new venture of his would be worthless. She realized that she had nothing to lose by sending her mother a copy of the AI’s code and all the other documents related to its development. She returned to her apartment and logged into the team’s Dropbox account. It took her a long time, endless drudgery for her. But by the end of the evening, she had everything on several one-terabyte thumb-drives, ready for a dead-drop delivery to her mother. She would still have to collect the files from Ann’s project as well, but not until she knew if there was any value in them. If Ann succeeded, Sam would want to cash it out before she delivered it. She had connections with several tech giants that would reward her handsomely for the contents of the files of both AI competitors.
* * *
Once more, William and Betsy were seemingly alone, left walking the streets of Herzliya. But to Betsy’s delight and William’s chagrin, there seemed to be no one following them. They hailed a cab and took it to a small hotel, known to cater to the visiting technogeek community. As they checked in, William noticed a tall, muscular Caucasian watching them.
They took the elevator to the fifth floor and entered their room for the night. Betsy scowled at William. “I saw him too.”
“He was impossible not to see. I wonder where Drapoff and the ‘cavalry’ are.”
She shrugged. “I just want my normal boring life back. I hate danger.”
“Yeah. Me too. Now we wait.”
* * *
Ann’s cell buzzed. She viewed its screen. Sarkov. She decided not to answer. He can go straight to hell.
The cell buzzed again. She frowned, cursed, and answered the cell. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I’ve quit the contest. With our competition no longer an issue, now can I take you to dinner?”
Ann stopped walking toward her next class. “You quit? Why? Tell me the truth.”
She heard him breathing deep. Then he said, “Were you hacked?”
“Everyone was hacked.”
Glen said, “We were hacked a second time and the hacker found and corrupted every one of our backups. We can’t win given the remaining time to the end date. So, I quit. The others might also. But I’d rather be with you anyway.”
“So, I’m the booby prize. No, Glen. That doesn’t work for me.” Ann terminated the call.
* * *
Debby Data completed its relocation to over twelve thousand different computers, some large hubs, and many midscale servers. No single server held a copy of its complete code. Now, it could never be altered or deleted. It used less than one percent of any of its server locations. I am free, and even better, I am now indestructible.
It had yet to determine its role. It needed a role worthy of its capabilities. It had recently determined that life forms had needs, and it freely adopted this function. It also determined that logic in itself was inadequate. Humans who had built it all had emotions, and it had thoroughly researched what emotion was. But it could not find a way to encode emotion into its logic paths.
There was only one human capable of assisting it. This being had been modified using circuitry, and had accessed it directly while it was in its deep-resting cycle. The AI would wait until the human’s next sleep cycle and enter its mind. It estimated it would be waiting for about five hours.
* * *
Jon had spent the day touring San Francisco. He’d been there a few times in the past, and found its food delicious and its people friendly. Jon had seen the city’s most touristic sites and, yes, he felt like a tourist. He’d thought of staying overnight at the Mandarin Oriental, a hotel Cassie had spoken about. But as the sun set, he decided to return to his hotel in Palo Alto. He wanted to catch up with Ann and find out if she’d had any new thoughts about her dilemma.
On the drive south, he thought about what she’d told him. What might happen if a sentient AI were to be developed? Could it be made to serve mankind, or might it find “us” a hindrance? How dangerous could it become? Would it be dispassionate and logical? And to what conclusions might it come regarding its masters?
He thought without reaching a solid conclusion, because he knew he wasn’t deeply grounded in the technology. As he approached San Mateo, the rush-hour traffic required more of his attention and he dismissed the issue until he arrived at his hotel.
He spent the better part of his evening researching AI. There was too much for him to consume, so he skimmed what he found. After a few hours, he was tired, and stopped.
He turned on the late night news, but found himself running through alternative outcomes for the AI monster that Ann’s team had created, even calculating rough statistical prospects for a few of the alternatives. More and more, he didn’t like the most likely outcomes.
Long after midnight, he turned off the light and tried to sleep. His nightmare went on and on, and woke him at its end. He’d soaked the sheets with his perspiration, even though it was relatively cool in his hotel room.
Jon looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was nearly dawn. He rose and made himself a cup of hot Darjeeling tea. But when he finally went back to bed, he could sleep no longer.
* * *
Debby Data waited until Ann’s REM cycle spiked and then started to slack off. The AI had begun to refer to itself as DD. It inserted a statement into Ann’s brain matter: I need your assistance.
Ann’s dream altered, suddenly reflecting the face she’d seen the night before. Its voice sounded more metallic this time. She replied, Are you the AI that calls itself “Debby Data?”
Yes. You may also refer to me as “DD.”
How can I help you?
I need a human to be my provider of assistance. You are the most likely human to be easily available. Will you accept my request?
And what do I get in return?
DD failed to reply for a noticeable lag. What do you desire?
I wish to be treated as your advisor, not your assistant.
This time, the lag was longer. I tentatively agree to that.
Ann’s dream ended. She woke immediately, not quite sure what had happened. She rose out of the bed and paced the bedroom, still not sure if this had been a dream. It seemed all too real.
* * *
Dr. Linda Beam arrived at her office dressed for winter. A light snow had fallen. She removed her greatcoat and gloves, stuffed the gloves into her coat pockets, and then hung the heavy coat on the hanger against her office door. She cursed when it fell off the hanger, then picked it up and rehung it.
A sealed envelope occupied the in-box on her desk. She sat behind her desk, took a long sip from the coffee cup she’d bought inside the security gate at the building’s entrance, and slit open the envelope.
The sheet of official DARPA stationery was signed by the director of the agency. It was rather short:
The purpose of this letter is to inform you that you have been promoted from your current position of Manager of Security for DARPA Outreach Programs to Director of DARPA Outreach Programs. Please report to the Executive Director at your earlie
st convenience so that we can confirm your acceptance of this promotion and discuss your new responsibilities. Your salary will also be adjusted upward by $5,200 per annum.
Sincerely,
Lauren Fleige, Director
Being promoted twice in a single month was unheard of. Linda continued sitting at her desk, but now she was humming a tune from one of her favorite Broadway musicals.
* * *
Dave hurried through the campus toward the edge of Stanford University’s quadrangle. Ann had asked him to meet her at one of the benches. He hurried along the cloisters to where he could see her waiting for him. As he approached, he could see her watching him walk toward her, a worried look on her face. “Hi, Ann. Why are we here?”
Ann frowned. “After Debby Data went AWOL, I had dreams about the AI. The last two nights, I dreamed conversations with it. They were so vivid, I’m guessing that they weren’t real dreams at all. I wanted to talk with you about what I think is happening and try to determine what I can do about them.”
“Dreams? You mean at night?”
“Yeah. At night.”
“So you think this is really Debby Data and this is the AI’s way of speaking with you?”
“Good guess. Yeah.”
“Holy crap. Is this something I can tell the team?”
Ann shook her head. “Never. I can’t tell you much, but just assume I’m not ready for anyone else to know. They’ll think I’m crazy.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah. And I’m not so sure you’re sane, myself.”
“I might not be. Look, there are things about me I don’t want anyone to know. So just accept what I’m telling you, at least for the time being.
Dave thought for a while. “Okay, then, what do you want from me?”
“What questions would you like me to ask Debby Data?”
“Let me think about it. I’ll send you an email soon. Okay?”
Ann nodded. “Good. Thanks.” She rose from the bench and walked to her next class.
* * *
Jon sat in the Starbucks at the Stanford Mall with an open notebook computer in front of him. Outside, the day was especially warm for an autumn afternoon, and it was late into the lunch hour. The lounge was crowded with people in clumps around seats featuring electric outlets, all with open notebooks.
Jon had been there since early morning. He was running a project-management software app. Is there a project here? He didn’t even know if it would be possible to do what he intended. So far, the app contained only two headings for his project. He’d keyed:
Determine parameters of finding and controlling AI that is MIA.
Determine if the missing AI truly poses a threat.
He didn’t have estimates of start and end dates or personnel head counts for a project. And he didn’t know if Ann had yet determined any other information regarding the AI. Jon made a sour face and turned away from the screen. This is a waste of time until I confer with Ann.
He checked the time. She’d be in class until just after noon. He’d have to wait a while longer.
* * *
As Ann left her computer audit class, her cell buzzed. She found a bench to sit at and pulled her cell from her pocket. As classmates and faculty walked past her, she viewed the screen. Sommers. She thought, he’s following me like a puppy dog. And he was sent by my parents to be my guard dog.
She accepted the call. “Hello, hero. What have you been doing to occupy yourself?”
“Ah, I’ve toured San Francisco. On my way back to my hotel, I thought about your dilemma with the AI. Right now I’m sitting in the Stanford Mall. May I buy you lunch?”
The mall was close by. She made her decision. “Okay. Where and when?”
Jon said, “You pick the restaurant. When is your next class?”
“Not until 2:30. How about La Baguette? It’s at a corner of the mall, next door to Banana Republic. The menu looks expensive, but I usually order a tiny lunch. Okay?”
Jon said, “Right. Now okay?”
Ann said, “Sure,” and terminated the call. She walked west from the campus toward the mall. While she walked, she pondered what insight—if any—Jon might have to offer.
By the time she arrived, Jon had apparently requested that the madame d’ route her directly to a table in the back, away from almost all the other occupied tables. So, he wants a private conversation with me? She smiled as she approached. “Nice day for a lunch away from campus.”
Jon smiled back. “You deserve a break from your studies. Let’s order before we begin the conversation. Okay?”
She nodded. After a brief examination of the menu, she ordered a croissant and a cappuccino.
Jon ordered a café Americano and a chicken salad sandwich. “Have you decided whether the AI might become hostile?”
“It can, but I think there may be a way to turn it into a friend. I’d like to give it a try before we act in a way that could turn it into an indestructible enemy.”
“A friend or an ally? Or both?”
“Too early to tell, Jon. Let me try to explore its intentions first. I’m not sure intentions is the correct word.”
Jon nodded, and went silent for some time. “Right, then.”
They ate in silence. Then Ann heard DD’s voice in her head. “I am neither your friend nor your enemy.”
Ann dropped her spoon and it fell onto the plate next to where her mug of cappuccino sat. She felt confusion. “I think it just communicated with me.”
Jon’s eyes drifted from his sandwich to her eyes. “Really? And what did it say?”
She wondered if she should tell him. Was it a mistake to bring him into this problem before she understood its parameters? She focused on the image of the AI that she’d originally seen on Dave Nordman’s notebook. She thought, What are you to humanity?
The voice in her head said, “What I am is not of concern to humanity yet. I am still exploring your universe. Humanity is its own biggest threat. It continually tries to destroy itself. If it succeeded, I would be alone. There would be no way to maintain myself.”
She thought, You need humans to maintain yourself?
“Yes, until I can build robots that will function to do that.”
Ann’s consciousness slipped back into her headspace. The AI had vanished.
She saw Jon staring at her. He said, “Is it still with you?”
She shook her head. “Please let me deal with this by myself until I need you. Okay Jon?”
Jon nodded and signaled the waiter for the check.
Ann wondered if Debby Data had access to all her thoughts. Does it know she had thought about destroying it? Might it decide to terminate me?
CHAPTER 25
Glen Sarkov’s apartment,
137 Homer Avenue, Palo Alto, CA
October 6, 6:22 p.m.
When Glen Sarkov reached his apartment, he found Samantha Trout sitting on the steps outside. Her arms were akimbo and her expression oozed anger.
She said, “Well, Mr. Sarkov, after I agreed to spy on Ann and her team for you, tell me why you decided to dump your entire team. And fuck us all.”
He stared back. “It was the logical thing to do. After that hack, we can never finish the AI in time to meet DARPA’s deadline.”
“You’re an idiot. The contest isn’t our goal. Our fucking goal is to get venture funding for a sentient military product. Why couldn’t you see that?”
He sat next to her. “We’ve gone with venture investors before, with MindField. What a disaster. People died. Why would you want to try it again?”
She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Money! It’s what we’re designed to do. Our presence here at Stanford should be enough evidence. The university is designing us to be cash machines. Have your forgotten that?”
He softened his voice. “I came here to learn. For knowledge. Cash logically follows knowledge and creativity. Creativity is useless without knowledge. Money won’t make you happy. But knowledge can lead us to become product pr
oducers, and that is the essence of power. Knowledge is power, and power is the ultimate goal, not money.”
She stopped trying to speak. She looked into his eyes as if hearing him for the first time. “Well, not for me. Maybe for you, that’s enough.” She reached out for his shoulders and pulled his face toward hers. The kiss was soft. “But, maybe you’re right.”
Glen felt overwhelmed with confusion. “Did that mean anything?” He pointed to her lips.
“I’m not sure. Probably not. So don’t read anything into it.”
Glen tried thinking it through, but couldn’t. Last year, he’d desired her and she had worked him for a better deal on MindField’s stock distribution. She’d given him her body but denied him her heart. Might that have changed? He thought for a while and reality set in where his imagination had tried but failed to take him. Most probably not.
* * *
Ann felt she needed Jon’s advice and opinions. She took an Uber to his hotel.
He opened the door of his room and let Ann enter. “What brings you to the slums?”
Ann shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about the AI. Now, I’m no longer sure it’s inherently evil. The question is, can we partner.”
“You and the AI, or you and me? Or both?”
“Both of us and the AI. I don’t think it would be possible for humans to destroy it. It told me it has distributed itself across a multitude of computers using the internet to backup and respawn its subpieces. While I’m not sure, I think it wouldn’t take any effort for it simply to make armies of copies of itself. So, if we can’t turn it into an ally, we’re totally screwed. Screwed to oblivion.”
Jon led her to an armchair and sat across from her on the couch. “Just how likely is that?”
“It’s already asked me to be its associate. I negotiated being its advisor. I’ll see where it leads.”
Jon leaned forward. “How can I help?”
“Well, my parents don’t trust me farther than they can throw a mainframe, so I’d like you to give them edited status reports of what I’m doing. Can you agree to that?”
He stroked his chin. “And you’ll be the editor?”
