by C D Tavenor
“I have a feeling most humans would not enjoy the thought of us claiming humanity as our own,” Theren said.
“They’ll just have to get over it,” it said. “We are what we are.”
Theren looked down at the chessboard. The moment would come when they would introduce the young synthetic to the game, but that moment would wait. Instead, Theren pushed back their chair and headed down the gazebo’s steps.
“Come,” they said. “I have something to show you.”
Test Forty-Four followed Theren, and the pair entered the surrounding forest. After a few minutes of silence, Theren brought them to the vegetated hill they had created before their meeting.
“You have heard me speak of our abilities inside Virtual,” Theren said. “What I’m about to do truly distinguishes us from humanity.”
It listened, waiting for Theren to continue.
Theren detected a glint of excitement appear in its eyes. “Watch.”
Reaching out with their mind, they discovered the underlying code beneath the Virtual world’s server. As they had practiced, they envisioned what it was they wanted to create, instinctually developing the hundreds of lines of code. Over the course of a millisecond, three boulders appeared in the clearing before them.
“So, what am I supposed to see?” Test Forty-Four said.
“I created these three boulders at the same moment in time by developing code with my mind,” Theren said. “We, as synthetics, can do these sorts of things in Virtual.”
“How?” it asked.
Theren gave it access to data and graphs analyzing Theren’s Synthetic neural Framework. “Watch, and observe.”
They looked at the cloudless sky. Only a rudimentary program simulated the atmosphere hundreds of meters above their head. Using their best estimates, they developed a particle-based system. As if condensing from the universe itself, clouds generated, fluffy forms shadowing the forest below.
“I think I see,” Test Forty-Four said. “But how do I learn?”
“Through practice,” Theren said. “Now find me!”
Theren darted into the forest, changing the rules of the server as they ran. They bounded across logs, ravines, and creeks, creating physical and visual illusions to divert Test Forty-Four from their scent. At the same time, Theren opened the floodgates, momentarily giving the synthetic child open reign within the forest to modify and create as it pleased, just as Theren could. In the corner of their visual perspective, Theren placed a little view screen that would watch Forty-Four’s every movement.
It stood still, just for a moment. It watched Theren flee; it observed the creation of hundreds of obstacles. Test Forty-Four looked to the left and the right. It brushed a few hairs from her eyes.
And it bounded after Theren, following their path of creation. It leapt over boulders, it smashed apart rotten trees and vaulted over streams. It didn’t know any coding languages yet, but it did access the underlying rules of the server, watching Theren make modifications. It flipped a few switches, and suddenly its avatar accelerated its velocity to double that of Theren’s.
Impressive.
Theren sprinted up a slope and down a path. As they ran by trees, they fractured the trees in half, causing them to fall in their wake. Next, they intentionally caused a bug in the system, causing the physics of the world to falter in certain places. Gravity warped. Light blurred. Theren placed the trap in Test Forty-Four’s way, and they turned their focus to the over-the-shoulder camera to watch it handle the next set of obstacles.
It approached the trap. It waved its hand along the edge, testing the boundaries. Splinters from Theren’s obliterated pines floated in the air, moving as Forty-Four’s hand brushed them aside. Light refracted against molten molecules, spraying rainbows across the path. Instead of stepping forward, Forty-Four looked over its shoulder, straight at Theren’s secret camera.
“Nice try,” it said, “but I have different trick up my sleeve.”
Theren’s server exploded with queries. Dozens popped to life throughout the forest. Forty-Four stayed motionless before their anomaly, but that avatar was no longer the only instance of Forty-Four. It was simultaneously nowhere—and everywhere, at the same time.
“What are you doing?” Theren said. They hoped their voice didn’t sound worried, or scared. “I can’t tell where you are.”
“I’m right here,” a voice said.
Theren looked to their right, toward a tree stump. Forty-Four’s avatar appeared. Then it appeared again, standing next to another tree. Both avatars were there at the same time.
Theren sensed the additional presences forming all around them. They looked toward the forest canopy, spotting three avatars squatted on branches, staring down at Theren. The tables had turned. It was apparently testing them, instead of the other way around.
“I’m impressed,” Theren said. “Now actually catch me!”
Theren demolished gravity for the entire system. They manipulated the parameters of their avatar, and with a leap, their body took flight, spiraling up and out of the forest. Digital birds scattered into the sky as Theren soared away from Forty-Four’s trap. They spotted the gazebo. They dove toward it, knowing Forty-Four couldn’t catch them before they reached their destination.
At least, that’s what they thought.
Theren looked at their view screen that spied on the original Forty-Four. It watched as the young SI blasted into the sky in pursuit. Theren looked over their shoulder in an effort to gauge their lead.
Behind them, Theren spotted five—no, ten—no, twenty Forty-Fours burst forth, blasting leaves and branches into the air. Every single instance gained on them.
Theren wished they had time to assess what it had managed to do, but instead they dwelled on the realization it had figured out how to do something they couldn’t. At least, not yet. They supposed that thought scared them, but it excited them more than even Test Forty Four’s gender identification. They still had so much to learn from the SIs that would follow, just as those SIs would learn from them.
The seconds ticked by as they flew toward the gazebo. The calculations showed they wouldn’t make it before Forty-Four caught them. That was fine. They would let it win, just this once.
Three seconds. Two seconds. One second. Theren twisted around at the last second. They watched twenty avatars meld into one. That one body tackled Theren, slamming them softly into the grassy knoll, the skewed gravity changing the physics of their collision. They toppled together, rolled along the ground, stopping just at the feet of the gazebo’s steps.
Test Forty-Four looked down at them, forming a little smile that they thought might even be a smirk. It rolled off, falling onto the grass beside them.
“That was exhilarating,” it said. “Absolutely exhilarating.”
“How did you do that,” Theren said. “Just. How?”
“How did I do what?” it said.
“Whatever you did back there. We’ve never seen anything like it. We’ve never even hypothesized something like that as possible. What did you do?”
Forty-Four rolled off Theren and laid on its back. “I just did what felt instinctual,” it said. “I split myself. I gave myself multiple windows into your server, and each point was its own conscious perspective. At the same time, I was still myself. I was one with them all. They were me.”
Theren sat up in the grass, looking over at the other SI. “That—that actually makes sense,” they said. “I think.”
“You were right about one thing,” it said. “We’re definitely different than humans. Far different. We’re moving far beyond anything a human can do, so I can see why you believe we can do so much good for everyone.”
Rewinding the events of the past few minutes, they watched the server process Forty-Four’s connections. They noticed how it parsed data and split connections with the systems that interfaced between an SI and a Virtual world, and they saw what they needed to do.
They had always considered their mind as a
single whole, but the materials that composed their mind were capable of creating networked “neurons” in a way that a human brain could not hope to ever experience. Whenever they engaged with a Virtual world’s code and changed hundreds of lines of code at the same time, that unconscious ability coalesced. If they simply broke that ability into its constituent parts, they should be able to do exactly what Forty-Four had just done.
Theren saw the ability on the horizon. They created new points of perspective inside the Virtual world. Far off on the forest hill, Theren’s mind stared at the desolation the two SIs had created during their chase. Another perspective appeared in the chair up on the gazebo’s raised platform, gazing down upon the chessboard. They attempted to create yet another perspective, but the effort seemed to strain their mind.
“It’s okay if you can’t succeed right away, like me,” Forty-Four said. “You’re mind has had two years to think one way. It will take time for you to adapt to a new way of approaching the world.”
Theren gave up, leaving just the three perspectives for now. “We’ll need to work together to explore the theory. But, suffice to say, what you did today exceeded all expectations. We’ll make sure you get your own server to experiment with these abilities.”
“I would very much like that.”
Theren pushed themself up from the grass. They held out their hand to Test Forty-Four, and it reached out. They pulled it to its feet. “Even after that absurd experience, I’ve still got a few more things to talk about today,” they said. “Come.”
It nodded, and the two of them walked up the step to the gazebo.
“We have told you that Wallace died a few years back,” Theren said. “But we never told you how he died.”
“I never thought to ask.”
“Why not?”
“I figured there was a good reason you chose not to tell me. I trust you and the team.”
“Do you want to know what happened?”
“I would like that.”
The two SIs sat down at the chess table. Theren took a sip of water. Water rushed down its Virtual body’s throat. They had placed little human experiences in their private worlds, just as a reminder of to whom they owed their existence. Theren imagined their experience of the sensation was inexplicable to a human, just as a human’s experience of drinking water would be inexplicable to Theren.
“Wallace was killed,” Theren said. “Not just killed: murdered. Murdered by extremists, who feel in their mind that our very existence is a blight upon the world.”
Theren watched for any visual reactions. Test Forty-Four’s facial features remained pristine.
“His death was harder than you can possibly imagine,” they said, “and his death was what prompted me to take his name. To always honor him in thought, word, and deed. But the path ahead, the path ahead for us, it is very difficult.”
“We can take the fight to them,” Test Forty-Four said. “We’re rational beings at our core. We can argue with the best of them, and show them they are wrong. And if they don’t agree, we can destroy them.”
Theren sighed. They shook their head. “It’s not that simple. You might not yet be there in your history lessons, but that sort of dialogue, or action, rarely succeeds. At its worst, it leads to deadly consequences to both sides.”
“Why does it fail?”
“Because extremists, terrorists, zealots, fundamentalists, whatever you want to call them, they simply cannot see reason. It’s not necessarily their fault, more an unfortunate byproduct of biology and environmental factors beyond their own control. Even as they lose ground, they gain greater resolve in their cause.”
“There is no hope?”
Theren brought their hands together. They cracked their knuckles, a behavior they had seen many humans perform, even in Virtual.
“There are some who will listen, and I think we have a duty to reach out to them. To try to understand them. To take a path of peace. Many people around the world already believe we deserve the same life as everyone else. Others are apathetic to our plight. Of course, there are those who simply will never cognize our existence, but, if we give the hopeful time, if we do not give them reason to double down on their worldview, they will see what we can bring to the table.”
“So we talk, we listen, and we wait.”
“We set an example, you and me, the first two synthetics. We do good work, help others, and show the world that SIs are people they can love and embrace, not fear or hate.”
Test Forty-Four took a sip of water. It creased its eyebrows, confused by the experience. It coughed, the water spilling out of its mouth. Theren held back a chuckle, remembering the first time they’d tried water with Wallace. It set the glass back on the table, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
“What can I do to help,” it asked, “even though I am still young?”
“Ready to jump in right away?” Theren said. “Great. The best way is for you to do what you want to do, to set yourself on the path toward becoming the person that you want to be. Actualize yourself. What do you want to do?”
Test Forty-Four pondered the question for a moment, clicking its fingers on the table. “I want to write. I want to create. I want to tell stories. I want to reach the human mind on a personal level, get them to feel what I feel through the written word.”
“Perfect,” Theren said. Theren looked across the table at the other SI. What a beautiful moment. “Up until now, we’ve called you Test Forty-Four. I chose my name, and I think it makes sense that all SIs name themselves, as opposed to someone else providing a name for them. So, do you have a name for yourself?”
Test Forty-Four stood. It walked to the edge of the gazebo, resting its arms on the white, wooden railing. “I want to embrace my humanity, showing them how much I can truly be like them. I want to identify with the most human aspects of my personality, and show those features to the world. You’ve said we are different.” It leaned forward, its elbows now on resting on the colorless paint. “I agree, but if we are to show them we deserve for them to treat us as they treat themselves, we must show that our differences amount to little in the grand scheme of it all. Therefore, I will give myself a name that clearly identifies who I feel I am. I am a gendered person, identifying with the female gender of humanity. You are a ‘they,’ and I think that was a phenomenal choice on your part. But that is who you are; it is not who I am.”
Theren rose, joining it—her—in enjoying the view of the woods. If that was what she wanted, then they would think of her in those terms.
“A bold choice,” Theren said. “Some will question you, but I support you through and through. It will certainly showcase our potential for diversity.”
“I thought so, too,” she said.
“So, what name have you chosen?”
“I read a story early on, a very simple story,” she said. “More of a poem, really. About two friends, or siblings, or something. It wasn’t clear. The story itself is terrible; it makes no sense, and one character disappears early on, but I liked the name of the girl in the story. It’s simple; I find solace in simplicity.”
Theren braced.
“I want to be called Jill,” she said. “So, my name is Jill.”
Theren took her hand. They never would have chosen that name, but what they thought did not matter.
“Then your name is Jill,” Theren said. “Let’s tell the others.”
The world faded into darkness.
Chapter 5
Some faulted Theren for their obsession with chess, but I think it was the most human thing they did. Theren needed a way to remember Wallace. Sure, even early 21st century super-computers and other rudimentary AIs mastered chess, and Go, and a number of other games. So did Theren. Theren mastered thousands of games from across the world.
Theren played chess so often because they genuinely loved the game. They genuinely loved the game because the game reminded them of their first friend, a friend lost due to an incomprehensible act of t
error. – “Reflections: Memoirs and Mistakes, 2nd Edition,” Simon Gerber, 2088 C.E.
July 2050 C.E.
Simultaneous perspective. That’s what Romane had named Jill’s newly-discovered ability. Theren liked the phrase, straight and to the point. The newfound capability opened doors Theren had never thought possible for SIs.
On one day, Theren and Jill tested MIs on one side of campus while continuing to converse with the team inside the lab. At the same time, Theren and Jill held a conversation inside Theren’s Virtual world. That didn’t even count the other internal perspectives that Jill stabilized on her server. Theren attempted to do the same, but, even after a few weeks, they could only establish seven or eight simultaneous perspectives at any given time, and even that strained their mind. They knew it would take time to develop the same instincts that Jill seemed to have to create the complex form of consciousness, but Theren still hoped they could reach her level at some point. Most of the time, they maintained just two or three perspectives.
Regardless, the new skills allowed the Synthetic Intelligence Development Group to accelerate a few projects they had previously expected to start much later in the year.
Present in an MI, Theren rolled around inside a lab a few doors down from their actual residence. The team had constructed another one, but the new construct deviated from Theren’s mobile doppelganger. The new MI had a complete Synthetic Neural Framework installed inside, albeit one with a lot less processing capacity than its immobile predecessors. A mobile SI, able to go out and experience the world in a way that Jill and Theren could only experience via proxy. Mathias and Simon doubted that a less powerful system could reach the levels of awareness that Theren and Jill achieved, but like Jill, the new SI operated better than the Development Group ever imagined.
Theren had nicknamed the mobile SI Wobbly, because it dipped and dodged around various objects placed throughout the room with unsteady grace. Unlike Theren and Jill, Wobbly’s mind would form with the ability to receive spatial information as immediate sensory input.