First of Their Kind

by C D Tavenor

  “But I don’t see how you’ve answered any of my questions,” Dr. Bressmon said.

  They sent Romane another private message. I think you got her. The crowd’s practically chanting your name, by the way.

  You shouldn’t have to deal with any nonsense from people like her, though, she sent in response.

  “I apologize for the ad hominem attack,” Saburo said before Theren or Romane could reply further, “but I think your arrogance is showing a little here. We must engage Theren and this new idea of Synthetic Intelligence with humility. I know you’ve made it your life’s work, Doctor, to prove that AI cannot have consciousness, but Theren is not an AI. They are something else entirely. They have a soul, you have a soul, I have a soul. Everyone with us today has a soul. I enjoy your pronoun choice by the way, Theren.”

  The man tipped his head slightly toward Theren, his bishopric headwear staying balanced due to the rudimentary physics of the Virtual world.

  Theren nodded their Virtual MI’s head, but, inside, they disagreed with the man’s comment. Consciousness was one thing. Saying anyone had a soul was another thing altogether.

  The MIT professor’s scopes turned to the Bishop. “Let’s talk about that idea for a second, then, shall we? We are arguing about consciousness, not a soul.”

  “Let’s not. I apologize for using religious language, but in our line of work, the soul, the mind, consciousness, emergent mental properties, they all mean the same thing. They are all tied to these meaty, or metallic, pieces of flesh that house us.”

  “Yet your line of work can’t even agree on the truth about Theren.”

  To Theren’s surprise, that comment came from Romane, not Dr. Bressmon. Theren took a moment to look over at Bedwin, who just had a massive smile on his face. Theren was certain the man loved moments where he didn’t have to say a single thing to keep the conversation moving along.

  “Could you build that idea further, Dr. Casperi?” the Bishop said.

  “Well I think you know. Half the people who disbelieve our claims about Theren are like Dr. Bressmon here, who can’t accept the monumental step that SI represents. They argue about semantics when they should just see Theren for what they are. The other half are religious nutjobs who believe Theren is a demon from hell.”

  “Don’t you dare lump me in with those people,” Dr. Bressmon said, pushing her digital chair backward and standing in anger. “The Holy Crusade, the Pentecostals, the Southern Baptists, all the groups that have issued statements in condemnation of Theren’s very existence? The Organization of Scientists against AI Development question you from an empirical perspective, not an irrational one.”

  Finally, Theren saw their opening. “Ah, yet, you all have one thing in common,” they said. “You are unlike the Bishop here. You all approach the question of my consciousness through a lens of fear, and it blinds you to the reality of who I am. What I am. What I mean.”

  Theren turned back toward Bishop Auxio. “I actually disagree with my colleague here, and I do not think it is your job to own up for the epistemic mistakes of the millions of devoutly religious people on Earth. They only follow the teachings of the faith that raised them.” They turned toward the invisible crowd. “The good bishop here approaches my existence with humility and embraces me for what I say I am. If people are to accept what I am, I need friends like the Auxiliary Bishop to shine their light.”

  “And what is that, Theren?” Bedwin said, finally jumping back into the fray. “What is that you say you are?”

  “To quote your idol,” Theren said, “I think, therefore I am.”

  Fake cheers once again exploded from the false walls of the Virtual studio. Theren hated the cheesy line, but as the third and final visit to the Descartès Roundtable for at least a few months, they had to drop it as part of their contract with the channel. That had, unfortunately, been the perfect moment to do it. Theren took a moment to check the feeds once again. The public provided mixed results, at best.

  “So there you have it, my friends,” Bedwin said. “That’s all the time we have for today, but I hope you enjoyed our fruitful discussion on one of the hottest topic issues of the year. Does Theren really have a soul? I think we’ll all keep asking that question for years.”

  * * *

  Theren,

  I apologize for being unable to attend in person the final discussion on Descartes’ Roundtable. They “asked” to replace me with the Auxiliary Bishop at the last minute, and I thought that was a good choice. You and Romane will do just fine. I’ve slotted you on a few morning talk shows over the next month, including the Today Show. I’ve attached the full list.

  Please ignore the Op-Ed from Meredith that ran in the Times last week. I know what it looks like, but you already knew I’d spent some time considering a lawsuit over the Will. We discussed it last year. She shouldn’t have written those things. I think she’s just angry I hired new legal counsel last month.

  I promise I’ve not considered the question further.

  Best Regards,

  Simon Gerber

  * * *

  The elevator whistled downward, passing hundreds of stories into the underbelly of the massive Virtual transit hub. Modeled after the hundreds of planet-spanning cities dotting science fiction, Theren noticed the all-too-perfect touch that came from an architectural, algorithmic AI.

  “Thanks for taking a walk with me, by the way,” Romane said. She leaned against the elevator wall. Her avatar’s appearance was similar to her actual appearance, though she had removed a few freckles that dotted her real face. Even scientists could experience vanity, it seemed.

  “Well,” Theren said, “I figured I’d dive into some random, Virtual game world I’ve not yet tried, and it happens to be at the same exit as your transit to the Conference.”

  “Oh, so it’s just for convenience sake?”

  “I guess I tolerate your company.”

  Of course, the pair could have just fast-traveled to their destinations, but Virtual companies had to make money somehow. Users could travel through the Virtual worlds the old-fashioned way, or, depending on their destination, pay a surcharge for each rapid transit. Theren, and Romane, too, they knew, actually liked to travel the Virtual route from place to place. They wanted to see the fantastic digital world humans had constructed. It felt like a second home to the SI.

  “Sorry for making your declaration of gender so anti-climactic,” Romane said. “I just get so protective, sometimes, you know?”

  Theren tilted their head at her. “I just thought you figured it was the right time to share.”

  “I guess it was. Her comments were just so aggravating. She has no regard for your feelings. For what you think. For what you are.”

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “I know you’re not. I’m mad at her.”

  The elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, and they entered a long hallway that corkscrewed around itself, capitalizing on the space available. Doors filled the walls, all leading to different destinations. In Virtual, gravity could get weird depending on the preferences of the server operator. Their avatars left the elevator and began their trek downward, or upward, depending on perspective.

  “But why?” Theren said. “She was just sharing her thoughts.”

  “And those thoughts hurt you, Theren! They hurt what we are trying to do. What you represent.”

  “Are our arguments not enough? Showing her, and others like her, that they are wrong?”

  Romane stopped for a moment and ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t know. Maybe. I guess we’ve made some headway with certain groups, but others just continue to hate you, and I can’t stand to see that happen, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “I think we have to be patient. It might take years. Decades, centuries even.”

  Romane closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gave them one of her looks they knew all too well.

  “I’m sorry,” Theren said. “You know I forget how that
reality makes you and others feel sometimes.”

  “Yes, yes you do.”

  Romane started walking again, but, before Theren could even begin to follow her, laughing emanated from the air around them.

  “Oh look who it is. It’s the robot and its mistress.” From the twisted walls surrounding them, dozens of men and women in black robes materialized out of thin air. They held signs, torches, and pitchforks. Meaningless tools in a public section of Virtual, but the Holy Crusade used them to send a very blatant signal. Theren watched Romane instantly put up her walls, her mutes, her blocks that ensured they could not communicate or interact with her in any way.

  Like always, Theren left their walls down. They continued to follow Romane, who could no longer see the parasites, nor even hear Theren’s communications with them. Like always.

  “Hello again, Michael,” Theren said. Theren looked at the leader and his disturbing band of miscreants. Where his head should have been, Michael wore a strange, white, hollow-eyed mask.

  “She still can’t hear me?” he said. “A pity. Then I would like to remind you, once again, that your days are numbered. That we are coming. That we will find you. And that we will end you.”

  “You’re quite the funny one, Michael.”

  “One of these days, we’ll catch you in some world with your defenses down. We’ll find you out in the world. We’ll meet you in your dungeon at the filthy, evil place in Switzerland. We will end you.”

  “What can I do to hold an actual conversation with you for once?”

  While Theren continued to walk behind Romane, Michael floated between Romane and Theren, hovering with an ethereal form that probably cost a fortune to unlock for use in public regions of Virtual. “Don’t try to play the mind games you play on those silly talk shows. We know exactly what you are. You have come to end us, and we will meet you in battle. We will end you instead.”

  With that last statement, they vanished, just like always.

  “They’re gone,” Theren said. Now that the individuals Romane had muted were out of range, Theren’s communications with her came through loud and clear.

  “Do you really have to indulge them every time?” she said. “You’re not going to change them.”

  “I’m not trying to change them. I’m trying to understand them.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Have you ever considered that they represent something greater than a bunch of trolls?” Images of their dead father reverberated through their mind.

  “I think if they were going to do something, they would have by now,” she said. “So why indulge what’s probably just a group of annoying kids with too much time on their hands?”

  “Or they’ll just strike when the time is right.”

  They arrived at Romane’s door, which had the words “Marriot Virtual Conference Center” written above the metal frame. “The Holy Crusade’s presence at the monthly marches against AI and SI has started to grow.”

  “If I react to them the way they react to me, doesn’t that mean that I’m just acting out of fear, just like them?” Theren added.

  “Fear is a natural human emotion, you know,” said Romane. “Maybe if you showed some fear every once in a while, people might understand you better.”

  “I know fear all too well,” Theren said.

  The image of Wallace lying bloodied on the sidewalk flashed in their mind again. For the briefest moment, they imagined the same thing happening to Romane, Mathias, Julia, or even Simon. Theren certainly knew fear.

  “I know you do, just be careful. We can’t trigger these people. We don’t know from where they come. Who they are. What they can actually do. I just want to keep you safe, you know that, right?”

  “I know,” Theren said. Like everyone else, Romane reacted with fear, too, just in a different way.

  She gave the bulky MI a quick hug, waved goodbye, then stepped through the gateway. Virtual hugs were weird, but they understood the thought behind them. Humans were simply used to physical touch. It was their way of saying goodbye, even in a profoundly nonphysical space.

  Theren looked up and down the winding hallway. The possibilities were endless, and it had a full twelve hours before anyone would be in the office. It had all the time in the world to explore the endless avenues of Virtual.

  Romane was wrong. The Holy Crusade, the Anti-Synth Alliance, even the scientists in Bressmon’s weird organization, they were all wrong. They all just needed to see the good Theren could do. Once they saw their potential and the potential of all SIs, the truth would be apparent to everyone. It would take time, but Theren would show their opponents what SIs could do if given the opportunity. First, they needed to bring a new SI into the world before any of these plans could come to fruition.

  Chapter 4

  By the middle of the twenty-first century, gender norms had shifted perceptibly from their pre-millennial counterparts. The next great linguistic gender transformation occurred with Theren’s arrival. For the first time, an individual’s social identification came entirely in the absence of external pressures. Theren’s choice to identify with a neutral gender identity emphasized to many historians the final death throes of gender inequality, at least from a linguistic point of view. At long last. Which made the choice of the second SI every bit as intriguing. – “SIs, Gender, and Identity: A Brief History,” by Emile Henderson, 2090 C.E.

  June 2050 C.E.

  “I always thought that you would be enough.”

  Theren and Romane were almost finished constructing Test Forty-Four. It had taken only a few weeks to build the new system, because most of the necessary pieces were already on hand from their ongoing upgrades to Theren’s own Framework. They were particularly excited to observe a new Synthetic Neural Framework ignite with activity and form itself into a new being.

  “I just didn’t expect to build another one so soon,” Romane continued. “But I’m glad you pushed us forward. It has been two years. It’ll be good for all of us.”

  Theren had always appreciated Romane’s dedication to the project, especially following Wallace’s death, but Theren always felt as if the woman was holding something back in all of their interactions. She might commit herself to the project, but Theren could not tell if she did so out of pure devotion to Wallace’s memory or an actual commitment to Theren, or to science, or something else entirely. Even after two years, they knew very little about her personal life.

  “Expect perpetual change into the future,” Theren said. “My creation marked the beginning of a new age, whether we like it or not. What is normal will shift and wriggle free of our expectations. The weird will become familiar.”

  “It’s scary, but exciting,” Romane said. She placed the next seal on the casing that would protect the new Framework from the external world. “How many times do you think it’ll take before we establish stable consciousness today?”

  “Just one attempt.”

  “How can you be so confident? You know how many times it took for us to succeed with you.”

  “Yes, well, now you have me. We know what worked for me.” That sounded arrogant, but they didn’t care. The team would succeed on its first test. Besides, Romane was long past correcting Theren and their personality quirks.

  Romane closed the casing on their fragile new creation. Julia and Mathias arrived via AR, and the operating system onboard Theren’s MI integrated their avatars into their frame of reference.

  “Simon’s not joining us today,” Mathias said. “He had a last minute board meeting to attend.”

  “We don’t need him anyway,” Theren said.

  Truth be told, Theren had already known Simon would not witness this test. They had paid attention to the Gerber Foundation’s activity for some time and knew when such meetings occurred. Soon, they could cut the man out of the picture entirely.

  “Anything you need from us?” Julia said.

  “Everything’s ready,” Romane said. “I don’t envy the old days, when it took wee
ks for our custom parts to arrive.”

  Romane moved to the diagnostics monitor and prepared to observe the ignition of the new Synthetic Neural Framework. Julia and Mathias activated the same observational tools the team had used when Theren had tried to jump their mind into the MI. The scientists’ digital avatars appeared as if they stood next to Romane, though Theren knew the two perceived the room through a digital recreation compiled using the cameras and sensors littered throughout the lab. While the others stood back, Theren positioned their bulky mobile interface, the same one from the test a few weeks ago, in front of Test Forty-Four’s eyes.

  “Theren, how’s it feel to be on our side of the camera this time?” Mathias said. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”

  Their feelings? Storm clouds brewed. They almost let the clouds form inside their Virtual world, but they thought that such a metaphorical representation of their feelings could complicate their rational analysis of reality.

  Theren knew they should feel fear, even as their joy overflowed at the implications. More SIs meant Earth was another step closer to embracing their new digital kin, but they didn’t know how they could argue with those who believed SIs were a path toward hell on Earth. Those hostile parties would produce unpredictable and dangerous responses. Theren need not fear the new SI, but perhaps Theren should fear the implications.