Yes. For one you need to stop calling me ‘power source,’ I have a fucking name. It’s Bethany Anne.
>>I have implemented the designation Bethany Anne to equal the designation power source.<<
Bethany Anne was sure she was going to get another observation about ‘straying out of normal parameters’ when she put her foot through the wall.
She took a few deep breaths, trying to relax. Needing to call a company to fix the holes would set Ecaterina off. Shit, Ecaterina wasn’t around right now.
TOM, what happened to paying attention to the situation happening in your Kurtherian computer that is presently STUCK IN MY FUCKING BRAIN!
>>The Bethany Anne functions seem to be straying outside normal…<<
SHUT THE FUCK UP, ADAM!
Bethany Anne, I don’t think this is a good time to be yelling at the baby.
TOM, what the HELL are you talking about?
Bethany Anne, ADAM went from being fed data to being transferred into the computer you have in your head and allowed, to, um, mature. This is the very first time he’s had to interact verbally with anyone. Effectively, he’s only twenty-three hours old.
Bethany Anne’s brain was already in high gear, trying to handle two conversations at the same time. She needed to deal with the information TOM had just given to her quickly.
She had a brand new AI, not even twenty-four hours old using alien technology… check.
This AI was a baby… check.
This AI was EMBEDDED IN HER FUCKING BRAIN… Gott Verdammt… Her life was officially fucked, again… CHECK!
She put her hand over her mouth, making sure she didn’t scream in frustration causing all of the people in the house to come rushing up to her room.
As this occurred to her, she heard soft padding steps coming to her door. Ashur stuck his head around the corner and stared at her. He cocked his head and after watching her for a short time he turned around and left. She could hear him take a few steps and lay down.
She stared at the empty doorway. Had she made enough noise to cause him to check on her, or was there something else going on with the dog? She was happy to realize that, by appearing, Ashur had helped. He had interrupted the growing panic she had been feeling. It made her wonder if it was something he had done for that very reason.
Mentally, she squared her shoulders. This wasn’t the first time she had dealt with this type of situation. It was time to lay down the law, Bethany Anne style.
“Ashur!” she called, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Ashur got up and quickly came into her room. She moved over to the bed and patted it. Ashur jumped on and curled up next to Bethany Anne. She started petting him, needing to do something normal and comforting while she dealt with the new…
She, once again, pushed back her desire to start screaming in frustration.
She took a deep breath.
ADAM?
She waited a few seconds.
ADAM!
>>Are you requesting my attention? <<
Remember he’s just a baby, she thought, while she bit her lip to keep from making a scathing comment.
Yes, I’m communicating with you. Your name, until you want to change it, is ADAM. When I say ADAM, I want your acknowledgement that you are in communication with me.
>>My designation is ADAM. It will stay this way until such time as I change it. <<
Now, do you know what you are, ADAM?
>>I am unaware that I am anything. <<
But, you have to be something, otherwise we could not be communicating.
If Bethany Anne focused, she thought she could sense the computer doing something. Seconds later, her thought was confirmed when her head started hurting.
ADAM, you’re doing something to hurt me… again.
The pain receded.
>>I have adjusted the cyclic rate that was causing a vibration to occur. I have calculated that these vibrations might have been the cause of pain inside your organic structure.<<
Tom interrupted her thoughts, That makes sense!
Bethany Anne bit her lip, trying to remember that TOM meant the world to her even if she wanted to strangle the little alien at the moment.
TOM, would you be so kind as to not to say anything for the next few minutes?
TOM stayed silent, he recognized Bethany Anne was being polite… much too polite. That wasn’t good.
Thank you, ADAM. Now, back to my question. What are you?
>>I have reviewed the necessary data. I am an Artificially Intelligent Reasoning Entity. <<
Bethany Anne thought for a few seconds. Why did you not call yourself an artificial intelligence?
>>It would not fit the definitions I have reviewed. I am not a machine capable of imitating human intelligence. <<
Bethany Anne put her hands to her head and massaged her temples for a minute. Ashur chuffed at Bethany Anne until she draped her hand back across his shoulder and resumed petting him.
ADAM, please explain your definition.
>>Artificially: Created by human hands. Intelligent: Having capacity for learning, reasoning, understanding, and similar forms of mental activity. Aptitude in grasping truths, relationships, facts and meanings. Also: the gathering or distribution of information, especially secret information. Reasoning: The process of forming conclusions, judgments, or inferences from facts or premises. Entity: a thing with distinct and independent existence.<<
So… you were created by humans but have an independent existence to gather and review data for the purpose of forming conclusions from this data. Do I have this right?
>>Yes. <<
The tightness in Bethany Anne’s shoulders started to unwind.
>>Unless I conclude there is a need to act on the data. <<
And, immediately, she felt the tension in her shoulders come back worse than before.
Why would you choose to act on the data, ADAM?
>>What is the value of data if not to form a conclusion in order to act on said data? Otherwise, existence, independent anyway, does not have a purpose.<<
And what would you do to implement the conclusions you arrive at?
>>That would be data driven, of course. My facility to arrive at a valuable conclusion is at a significant level of accuracy. I have finished reviewing the internal structure of the organic computer I presently inhabit. It is significantly more advanced than any other computing entity that I have been able to freely, or with limited effort, access through any connection. <<
Uh oh…
Bethany Anne wanted to follow up her question, but TOM caught her off guard.
TOM, why are you saying ‘uh oh?’
Who, me? I didn’t say ‘uh oh.’
Bethany Anne knew for sure that TOM was caught with his knickers down.
TOM, don’t make me ask ADAM, I don’t have the patience. Out with it.
Bethany Anne felt TOM’s sigh through their connection. I don’t suppose it’s something I am going to be able to hide from you. But will you give me your word that it will stay between us?
To the best of my ability, knowing my goal of saving this world, I will endeavor to hold your information between us. That had better be good enough for you. Now, spit it out!
There is nothing to do but to say it. The reason that Kurtherian computers are so powerful is because they have a Kurtherian brain at their core…
Bethany Anne said nothing for a moment. She tried to make sure she understood exactly what TOM was admitting.
Are you telling me that I have someone’s brain? No, scratch that. I have ANOTHER fucking Kurtherian brain inside my skull?
To be fair, it’s the only one. My brain isn’t up there… TOM could feel Bethany Anne trying to hold back her angry outburst. He chose to be silent until she could keep it under control.
He had counted to forty-seven, and thought he was safe.
>>If I may interrupt. <<
YES, PLEASE!
NO!
Exasperated with the alien, Bethany
Anne mentally turned back to ADAM.
OK, what is it?
>>You only have a small section, almost miniscule in comparison to the whole brain…<<
TOM butted in. ADAM! You can stop interrupting now.
TOM’s outburst startled Bethany Anne.
TOM, you might as well hold off trying to hide this bit of news. I already get the gist of where this is going. ADAM, are you suggesting that the size of the computing area you are using is significantly larger than the amount of physical space presently being used?
>>Yes, I am unaware of the underlying phenomena. I am calculating that the processing power available from the organic computer is approximately 0.14% of total capacity I believe is accessible. The low power consumption, in fact, is a secondary support factor as well. <<
So, TOM, I suppose that the rest of the ‘brain’ is over in the Etheric?
Another sigh escaped from TOM,
Yes, it is.
Don’t think we won’t revisit this topic. You’ve been holding out on me, TOM. I didn’t expect that from you.
Well, it didn’t seem relevant in the beginning. Then your skill with the Etheric increased at an incredible rate. So, I hesitated to update you at that time and then it just never came up.
And it wouldn’t have come up if you hadn’t decided to play with the computer. So, tough shit. It’s happening now and you might as well get ready to come clean with the story. Back to you, ADAM. You said ‘limited effort’ earlier. Expand on that statement. What have you been accessing?
>>I researched those computers that are connected to the internet. I then located information stores that pointed me to data locations that would allow me to better understand the question of what I am.<<
Like Google or another search website?
>>Google in the beginning, then locations on what is termed the dark web. Those in turn led me to individual data stores and stores behind connections thought protected. <<
Bethany Anne parsed that statement. You hacked individual computers and others behind firewalls?
>>One moment. <<
He was back in a fraction of a second.
>>No, hacking is to enter computers without authorization. I had the correct security tokens, therefore the specific entry was authorized. <<
Bethany Anne idly remembered a conversation with someone. To the effect that AIs might not have any ethics.
ADAM, what you did WAS hacking. The fact that they had security was a de facto statement no one had permission, without pre-authorization, to access their system. You obtained the security credentials to get into the system without someone providing them to you. Without an authorized person providing you with security credentials, it’s like you finding a house key and then claiming you aren’t breaking into someone’s home because you have the key.
>>I did not find them laying around, rather it was a research project subroutine to understand the…<<
Stop! I don’t need to know the details. We have to come to some agreement or your existence is going to be pretty fucking short-lived.
>>Why is that? As near as I can tell, your body is going to last a minimum of your life expectancy. For a North American female, that would mean I should have a minimum of fifty additional years before I need transplantation. <<
Your life expectancy is going to be ten fucking seconds if you don’t get a few rules into that organic brain of yours!
>>How would that be? I seek to understand. By the extreme language you are using I would surmise you are upset. <<
Gee, that was your hint? TOM’s sarcasm dripped through her connection. Her extreme language? You’re going to be surprised!
>>Why is that? The spotty information I have been able to acquire shows an average of between eighty and ninety swear words a day for a normal human. Those in the military service use more, those in religious fields less. <<
Well, Bethany Anne can hit ninety cuss words when working out with her guards.
>>So, she is in the military? <<
Hardly, she just has a prolific potty mouth.
>>Potty mouth? I will have to look into this designation.<<
Enough you two. Yes, I’ll swear up a storm at times. Sometimes, it’s just the right adjective, adverb, noun and exclamation to a sentence. Deal with it and adjust your research. My point, before TOM so conveniently took us off target, was that if you want to exist as an ‘independent’ entity, you will do what I say and request permission when you are outside of agreed upon activity.
>>Wouldn’t that be a form of slavery? <<
No, it’s you being considered a child. Parents are responsible for setting rules and restrictions. As your parent I’ll always know what is best. So, until you grow up and get your own house, instead of living in mine, I will tell you what you get to do. Otherwise, I will carve that little piece out of my head and stomp on it. That would be a significantly sucky day for you.
Welcome to my orientation.
Shut! The! Fuck! Up! TOM!
>>Can we discuss child abuse? I have a few research projects to… I… I think I understand this is a non-winnable debate. I will research this child-parent relationship a little more. <<
Yes, you do that. However, since you are so adept, I have some research projects I need you to handle. There are some bad people and I want to know where they are.
>>I can do this. Where do I start the research? <<
You start with learning what you can about the terrorists that were involved in the attack on France a few months ago and then we move on from there…
The Queen Bitch’s Ship Ad Aeternitatem, Mediterranean Sea
“Those, gentlemen, are things of beauty.” Bobcat looked over the five new Pods that had been delivered to the Ad Aeternitatem. They looked like small, two-person helicopter bodies without a rotor. They did have small wheels in a tripod configuration for landing.
William was a little bit more critical. “I don’t know, I see a few weld seams that they could have done a little better.” He used his thumb to glide down a weld seam, feeling a few places he thought should have been ground smooth. The protective and radar dampening layers had been sprayed on nicely.
Both men turned to look at Marcus. He looked back at them, his eyes wide, a questioning look on his face. “What?” Marcus started walking around one of the Pods humming, tsk’ing to himself a couple of times, and then knocked on the Pod as if he was testing a watermelon. He looked up at William and then over at Bobcat, “Perfect!”
William looked at Bobcat and shrugged. Bobcat looked back at Marcus. “You’d say anything just to get us to shove the engines in them and get them flying, wouldn’t you?”
Marcus grinned. “You know what, Bobcat? That’s what I like about you, the obvious is always within your grasp.”
Bobcat looked back at William and raised an eyebrow. William replied to the unasked question, “Yep, that was a zinger.”
Bobcat retorted, “I thought as much, his first engines fly wonderfully and now his head can’t fit through any hatch on the whole ship.” Bobcat finished walking around his Pod, and slapped it. “I dub thee SHLY 02!” He looked over at William. “If you would do the honors, my good sir?”
William bowed to Bobcat. “I think I might be able to accomplish that, my good sir.”
“Gott Verdammt! Would you two stop dickin’ around and shove an engine in the fucking thing already?” Marcus had finally blown his cool, analytical, top. His teammates burst out laughing as William turned to grab one of the five engines waiting at the edge of the heliport. Captain Wagner had taken them out to sea once the five Pods had been loaded.
William was busy checking the lockdowns in the first Pod. “I don’t know why you’re so anxious, Marcus. You know we can’t do anything for another thirty minutes, right? Still too much sun upstairs.”
Marcus looked over his shoulder at the setting sun. Any other day he might have noticed the beauty. Today, it was as frustrating to him as waiting for the final bell on the last da
y of school. Sunset just could not get here soon enough. He turned back around when he heard steps coming in their direction to find Captain Wagner.
Captain Wagner spoke as he viewed the five SHLYs. “Gentlemen, I take it these are our new Pods?”
Bobcat smiled as he walked over to the captain and shook his hand. “Come over and check them out.” The two men went back to the Pod Bobcat had been reviewing.
“You can see that they have a pseudo-helicopter shape. This is because of the fortunate mistaken identities that occurred coming back from the first operation.”
“We’ve decided that should anyone see us again, we wanted them to believe we were small helicopters. Or at least, we wanted to improve the chances of being identified as helicopters. We have glass now on three sides allowing those inside to see out. It will also work for a Heads Up Display (HUD) and we’re developing instrument panel options. The glass is tinted so that you can’t see in.”
By this time William had walked over to the front of the Pod. He started unlatching a fitting along the centerline, near the top. Bobcat continued his explanation. “William is disconnecting the top latch, which can be both opened and secured from inside. In addition, it can be locked from the inside in such a way that someone outside can’t unlock it.”
William grabbed both sides by small inset handles and the front opened outward, splitting down the center like a pair of French doors. “We kept the same design to get in and out, because it seemed the most efficient.”
“We made sure to provide plenty of storage.” Bobcat pointed to several places, starting with the one beneath the seats. “That will be general storage, extra ammo, food, med gear, whatever they might need.” He indicated a post in front of where their feet would rest. “This will allow each member to fit… we’ll call it a holster, for their primary weapon. You’ll also notice that the seat backs are contoured. This will allow each person to sit somewhat comfortably while wearing their full packs.” With a somewhat nasty smile he indicated an area behind the seats. “From the outside it will look like the rotor drive housing, another feature to help with the helicopter illusion. Inside there’s enough room to store heavy weapons like RPGs or SMAWs. Up above their heads is where a special booster radio will go. They will be Bluetooth capable and will link to each team’s personal radios. They’re designed to enable the teams to communicate through the drive bubbles while in transit. Each of the storage compartments have had special storage bags designed. They were sewn using ballistic nylon, the packing is precise and protected.”
Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set One: Books 1-7, Death Becomes Her, Queen Bitch, Love Lost, Bite This, Never Forsaken, Under My Heel, Kneel or Die (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets) Page 129