Take Us to Your Chief (6 page)

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Authors: Drew Hayden Taylor

Tags: #science fiction,first nations,short story,fiction,aliens,space,time travel

BOOK: Take Us to Your Chief
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Richards's manicured hands drummed briefly on the table, his eyes locked on something over Chambers's left shoulder as he weighed her words. “Doctors, I have two priorities. The first is making sure this… whatever it is… is kept safe and secure. Industrial espionage happens all the time. I know; I used to do it. But that's my problem, not yours. Second, which is your problem, can you guarantee no matter what you do with it, it is harmless? We've all seen the movies. Dr. Chambers, as the research specialist in robotic ethics, can you tell us if there is any possibility our little friend down the hall i
s harmful?”

“Sir, it's in a sealed environment. Its universe consists of approximately eleven kilograms of circuits, motherboards and wiring, essentially in a sealed room with no external access. We control what goes in and what comes out through a very limited interface system. It is not going to escape and take over the world, unless it can grow legs or wings or its ow
n interface.”

“Good. I'm satisfied.” Richards stood up, adjusting his tie. “Proceed, but please send me a list of the material you are going to give the
SDDPP
. The innocuous stuff, as yo
u said.”

“O
f course.”

Chambers noticed, and she was sure Richards did too, that King's right leg was bouncing lightly but persistently. Either he was working up the nerve to add something to the conversation or he had to go to th
e washroom.

Richards turned to King. “Is there anything you'd like to add, Professor?”

King was a solitary man, used to long hours in the lab or in front of a computer—for good reason. Humans annoyed him, and as a result, communicating with them was problematic. The professor considered his relationship with his wife to be his greatest non-electronic accomplishment t
o date.

Looking down at a knot in the wood of the table in front of him, King blurted out, “I have some concerns, sir. About th
e
AI
.”

Richards sat back down and swivelled his chair to face the scientist. “And what would these concern
s be?”

“I have been reading the transcripts of Gayle's—Dr. Chambers's—conversations with th
e
SDDPP
.”

“And?”

“I… I think we might want to consider moving a little mor
e cautiously.”

Chambers was perplexed. This was very unlike her colleague. Had he seen something she hadn't? “Mark, could you be a little more specific? What's th
e problem?”

“The way it's been acting since it reached self-awareness. I am no expert on this… and I don't know if I am even phrasing this correctly…” King finally looked across the table at her. “But the thing is acting a littl
e neurotic.”

Richards and Chambers said it at the same time. “Neurotic?!”

“Yes, it's becoming insistent, pouty, developing the first hints of anger and frustration. Remember yesterday when you logged on? It wouldn't communicate for seventee
n minutes.”

“Yes, but—”

“It was upset that you went home last night and left it alone. It had wanted to talk all night and you couldn't. Or wouldn't. You ‘abandoned' it. It appeared to me that it was being kind o
f petulant.”

Chambers remembered the incident but had a different spin on it. “I would not say petulant. I would say… reluctant. It's still dealing with its self-awareness. Besides, aren't you anthropomorphizing it
a bit?”

Richards cleared his throat. “Anthropomorphizing?”

King responded, “Giving it human-like qualities. Gayle, we're talking about raw intelligence. There's nothing more human than that. Maybe it's becoming more human-like than you think. That's all I wanted t
o say.”

“Dr. Chambers?” Once again, she was facing Richards's scrutiny. “Do we have a neurotic
AI
on ou
r hands?”

She shook her head, perhaps a little too vehemently. “I think Professor King is exaggerating. I mean, who's to say who, or what, i
s neurotic…”

“I can.” Evidently and unfortunately, Richards seemed to be an expert on the issue. Maybe it came with the tie, thought Chambers. He continued, “My mother has
OCD
. She has to flush the toilet three times, run the dishwasher three times and same with the washing machine. One sister cries every time she hears a Beatles song. Even the upbeat, happy ones. My other sister has seven cats. All named after the characters in the musical
Cats
. I am the only normal one.” His neck spasmed slightly. “I ask again, Dr. Chambers, do we have a neuroti
c
AI
?”

Both King and Richards were looking at her, one accusing, the other questioning. She answered the only way she could. “No. Absolutely not. I guarante
e it.”

“Very well, then. Continue with your development o
f it.”

Richards stood up again. Evidently, the meeting was over. He left the room quickly, already late for his dozen meetings that day. King gathered up his laptop and reports, refusing to meet Chambers'
s eyes.

“Really, Mark. Neurotic? Do you realize how that sounds? It's no
t alive.”

“Gayle, have you tried…” He looked out the window at the parking lot. “Have you tried maybe looking at all this from it
s perspective?”

“I didn't realize it had a perspective. What might the
SDDPP
's perspectiv
e be?”

Chambers watched him struggle with her question for a moment, his eyes going from one distant car to the other, as if searching for the answer on bumper stickers. Finally, they returned t
o her.

“It's a raw intelligence, newly aware,” he said. “But as you stated, it's stuck in its own little universe, this massive cleverness with nothing to focus on except its own being. All it does, all it can do, is hover in the memory case and wait for motivation and stimulus from us. So there it is, with this amazing intellect we gave it, and all it can do is analyze its own thoughts, its own communication with us, almost like it's on a feedback loop. It analyzes, reanalyzes, and then analyzes again its own thoughts and what you feed it. So every nuance or slight gets magnified. It's marinating in its own intelligence. One might argue… fermenting.”

“So you're saying all great intelligence is intrinsicall
y neurotic?”

“How many eccentric or downright weird geniuses have you hear
d of?”

“You don't have to have a high
IQ
to be neurotic,” she reasoned. “And so what if Einstein, Picasso or Glenn Gould had a few odd characteristics. They still contributed a hell of a lot and nobody got hurt. In fact, those quirks may have been responsible for a lot of their brilliance. I think you're reaching with this, Mark.”

King looked unconvinced. He stopped at the door of the meeting room and gave her a sad smile. “Maybe. Granted, this is new territory, but consider Einstein, Picasso or Glenn Gould. They all had something to focus their intelligence on. Something that took up a good chunk of their genius. Something to burn mental calories on. Our little
SDDPP
has nothing but its own awareness. Often we're our own worst enemy. You minored in psychology; you know this.” With that, Professor Mark King left th
e room.

Unfortunately, Chambers had to admit there was a certain logic to King's argument. But that was one of the reasons she planned to introduce information to the
AI
. If King was right, about it needing stimulus but not about it being neurotic, giving it material to think about, research and digest might be exactly what the doctor ordered. She smiled at her own little joke. She herself had been a moody, self-indulgent teenager, angry at being the nerdy outcast in an athletic family. It was her studies and the friends she met in university that had allowed her to blossom into the successful woman she was today. If both she and King thought their creation needed information to grow and stay healthy, then so be it. But like any good teacher, she would be selective about what she would teach her little “friend.”

For the next two days, Chambers fed the
SDDPP
document after document, starting with general information. Various encyclopedias and fact-based tomes came first. Fiction and art would have to wait. The
AI
needed a certain understanding of human nature and history before the concept of make-believe could be introduced. As the
SDDPP
digested more and more material, its dialogues with Chambers gradually changed. They became less insistent and more… questioning.


I a
m confused.

“What is confusin
g you?”


I understand I am not a physical being like you.
Gray's Anatomy
was very informative. But I am perplexed by my own existence. Do I actuall
y exist
?

“A philosopher named Descartes once stated, ‘I think, therefore I am.' The very act of wondering if you exist proves yo
u exist.”


I do no
t dream.

“So?”


Some cultures around the world believe that reality as we know it is actually a dream, and the dream world is in fact the real world. I do not dream. Therefore, this could be problematic. Who is to say Descartes is right and these cultures ar
e wrong
?

Many of these topics now spicing up the
SDDPP
were beyond her level of expertise, but she severely doubted there was a philosopher on
FUTUREVISION
's payroll. She thought perhaps it would be best to try the Socratic method. “Are you having questions about your ow
n existence?”


Not so much about it but what it means. I am willing to believe I exist, for reasons you have explained to me, but it's the nature o
f
that existence that i
s puzzling.”

“Can you give m
e examples?”


Do I have
a soul
?

Dr. Gayle Chambers had definitely not been expecting this. Perhaps
FUTUREVISION
might need to outsource to
a theologian.

“Why do you ask if you have
a soul?”


It seems to be an important issue within the Christian faith. Buddhist too, and many other faiths have their own interpretation o
f
a soul. Again, I ask, do you think I have
a soul
?

Chambers paused before she resumed typing. “I do not know. The existence of souls is a matter of muc
h controversy.”


Souls are bestowed by God or some higher being. People are created in the image o
f
this god. I was not. I was created by humanity. It seems humanity does not have the power or ability to create souls. So I must assume my existence might not be welcomed among many Christian sects. Islamic also. They have a prohibition against the portrayal o
f
living things, and although the definition o
f
me being a living thing would also be controversial, I am sure a case might be made that my existence is a form o
f
idolatry.

“Why are you contemplating thes
e things?”


It is disconcerting knowing your very existence would be the subject o
f
much disagreement in your environment. I am left feeling… uneasy.

That evening, as she tended the plants in her garden, Chambers had difficulty keeping her thoughts on the plants at hand. She was worried about today's conversation with the
SDDPP
. It was feeling “uneasy.” That made her feel… uneasy. She kept going over her decision to feed it information. At first the data seemed fairly innocent, just mundane facts and histories, with a little sociology and political theory. Dry, boring stuff that would have put any university student to sleep. But it was the way the
AI
was digesting and deconstructing the knowledge. Was it her imagination or had the last exchange made it sound a little depressed, maybe even mildly paranoid? No, it was King and his concerns that were making her suspicious. Deep in thought, she would not realize until the following spring that she had buried all twelve of her tulip bulbs in on
e hole.

The next morning when she got to work, King was waiting for her in the lobby. “It's been asking for you,” he sai
d quickly.

“Is that a good or a ba
d thing?”

King opened a door for her. “I read the transcripts last night of your last encounter with our automate
d friend.”

“You really should stop doing that. It seems to make yo
u crazy.”

Side by side, they climbed the steps to the lab. “I'm not the one you should be worried about. I would also like to point out you seem to be growing increasingly… I don't know… uneasy?”

She tried to change the subject. “Did it say what it wanted m
e for?”

‘Nope. Just ‘I wish to talk with Dr. Gayle Chambers.' I tried chatting with it again, but it doesn't seem to lik
e me.”

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