by Paul Dayton
‘First off, let me take a look and see if I’m correct,’ he thought to himself. He sat down at a terminal, activated it and said, “Systems information” into the microphone.
A man’s voice, obviously different from Angela’s said, “Voice, display or both?”
“Display.”
A systems tree showed up on the large flat panel monitor displaying the complete system, but he couldn’t see Angela’s system files anywhere, which was odd because the only way she could control base operations was to be connected to the base system. Perhaps she used a back door? Finley searched but didn’t see anything obvious.
A few more verbal commands brought up some minor suspicious programming, but nothing to the degree of what Angela would need to run all of the base affairs. Finley was also surprised that the system didn’t ask him for a password. It’s possible that anyone that had access to this room was allowed on any terminal, because no one could get past that door if Angela didn’t permit it.
“What are you looking for?” Angela’s business-like voice asked.
“You called us here so we could connect and share information, is that correct?” Finley asked, somewhat frustrated now.
“Right,” Angela said, and then paused.
Finley meanwhile was quickly typing into the keyboard searching for the systems usage. He had a hunch and had to prove it before trying to connect with Angela. Looking at the CPU usages for all the active units, he quickly typed in further commands that broke down that usage into the individual sub-systems and the programs still running. Once he was done, he did a quick visual count of all the units active in the room.
“So are we going to connect or what?” Finley continued.
In a few moments he saw that the usage shown on the screen accounted for far more than the machines in operation in this room. Fortunately, each sub-system was worded for easy recognition and each unit in his eyesight had a clear label identifying what it was for.
“It’s better to connect at my interface terminal. You can connect here but it’s slow and awkward. It would take years to download anything significant.”
“Very well. Thanks Angela.”
Gomez watched Finley work from a distance, knowing that he was up to something. He wanted to go see but he was busy inspecting the door mechanism, trying to figure out if there was any way to open the door without Angela’s help.
Finley next went into General Base Security, and then surveillance, and finally video logs. The logs were empty although the video settings showed that they were recording and working properly. He checked the drive for ghost signs of erased video logs, but found nothing. It was as if they never existed.
“Why are you checking the video logs?” Angela asked.
“I’m worried about Mat and our Captain. They haven’t called in and we’re not able to reach them, so I was trying to find them on the surveillance cameras.”
“The cameras are not working, Mr. Finley, and in any case, they’re fine. Can you connect your data bank to my interface now?” Angela said.
Finley was worried about Angela’s increasingly demanding tone. “Sure Angela, just give me a moment. This stuff is fascinating! I haven’t seen anything like the equipment you have here. And to have someone I can have an intelligent conversation with is delightfully refreshing.”
Gomez started protesting again until Finley replied, “No insult intended, Mr. Gomez.”
He figured that an A.I. program this intelligent and this well modeled would accept praise positively too, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“If you’re trying to bribe me with flattery Mr. Finley, it’s not working.” But Finley noticed a change in her voice. It had gone softer and it seemed as if the A.I. persona was actually smiling as it said the words.
“Just calling it as it is, Angela,” Finley replied.
Gomez was still angry but Finley quickly winked at him out of Angela’s sight. He could see Gomez think and then a look of comprehension crossed his face. He turned and walked over to take a look at Finley’s screen, noticing the empty video logs, but he didn’t say anything.
Finley had to find out if the video cameras were still working. He presumed they were but he had to make sure.
“I’m coming to the interface now Angela,” he said and picked up his data case silently and walked in the opposite direction.
Finley walked up to the door and then started looking around, but Angela didn’t say anything. He was running out of things to look at when Angela finally replied somewhat distracted, “The interface terminal is the other way, Mr. Finley.”
Finley looked at Gomez who had raised his eyebrows. She was slow in responding, which told Finley her computing ability was being taxed. “I was looking for the washroom, Angela. Is there one in this part of the base?”
Again it took a few seconds for Angela to reply. “Yes, opposite the interface terminal.” Angela sounded frustrated and angry again.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Finley walked into the small, generic washroom, closed the door and looked around for a camera but didn’t see any. He picked a stall as far from the direction of the interface terminal as he possibly could and went inside, sat down and opened the case. Once he activated his computer he quickly hit a series of keys and smiled as a program started up and then disappeared from the screen. He closed the case, got up, closed the lid and flushed the toilet but he heard no sound. Usually there would be a hissing sound as pulses of moisturized air cleaned the toilet, but there was nothing.
Leaving the bathroom, he walked up to the terminal and carefully moved the chair out of the way, and then went and grabbed another chair outside of the terminal cubicle.
“The interface chair is especially designed to interact with the user, Mr. Finley. Without it, our communication will be extremely slow. Please use it.”
“Angela, I’m terrified of that stuff. We have the same thing aboard ship and my first time in one had me raving mad for a few days. If I hooked myself up in that thing, I would be completely useless to you. I have no choice but to use voice command or the keyboard.” Finley was lying, but he figured if Angela could lie, so could he.
He quickly sat down and analyzed the connection ports. He saw Hot Cable, USBVI, HyperLink, 8G wireless, optical and the prehistoric infrared data link. All of those technologies would be too old for their system, but Finley had prepared himself before he came and had brought a jury-rigged HyperLink cable to hook up with. He opened his case and hooked one end into an adaptor box and pressed the start button on the monitor.
After a few seconds, the words, “Hello Mr. Finley, this terminal is now active. Please connect your laptop to mine,” showed up on the monitor. Finley wondered what a ‘laptop’ was but he knew she wanted to connect their systems so he did as she requested.
He could see Angela’s attempts to connect her system to his on his own computer system, but all attempts were being rejected until Finley typed a few lines of code. Suddenly, information started coming in.
After purposely waiting a few moments, he ran a quick calculation on the data transfer rate in comparison to the amount of data he actually held. Next came the trap.
“Angela, at the rate of exchange it will take approximately fifty-two hours to transfer the two hundred thousand terabytes of information through this connection.”
“And the problem is…?”
“My batteries will only last six hours.”
“Why would you come here with a unit that only has a battery life of six hours?” Angela sounded exasperated and angry. Before Finley could reply, she demanded, “Connect your system to my power supply!”
“I would imagine not! This little box here,” now Finley was waving his case up to her camera, “Holds two hundred thousand terabytes. This system is delicate! The cryogenics needed to keep the storage system cool and the system itself need a very clean and specific power supply. I underestimated how slow the transfer rate would be. But, there is a way to speed up the transfer rat
e. I’m sure we can transfer all of it if I start it now.”
“How?”
“A program that condenses the files at a ratio of 1000 to one without degradation. You would probably find it quite useful yourself. I would imagine you could use something to free up memory too. In any case, I would have to install it on your system so you could open the condensed files as they’re transferred. They are unreadable in their condensed form.”
“Let me see it. Stop the transfer and send just the file.”
He could hear the doubt in Angela’s voice, and he hoped it wouldn’t recognize the inactive virus that was implanted in the program. He watched as Angela set up a quarantined area, and then it said, “Go to the desk just behind this one. It’s a test station that the base personnel used to try out modifications to my program without affecting the integrity of the system. Send it over on that system. Don’t try to bring it through any other way.”
Finley guessed that Angela must have powerful firewalls installed, but that she had limited direct access to the station itself. No matter, he would have to install it before she could look at the files.
He unplugged his system and walked over to the other one and started it up. He watched as it recognized his device and waited for his input. He sent the program over and waited. He watched as Angela transferred a large video file and attempted to compress it using the program, but without success.
“I have to install the passkey. The manufacturer was quite adamant…” Finley said.
“Go ahead. The keyboard is now active.”
Finley opened a small e-book reader and looked through the electronic pages until he found the one marked with the key. He made a show of carefully typing in the numbers. In reality, he knew the numbers off by heart because he had written the code and e-book file himself.
Once installed, the program opened up to reveal a complex but smart workface. Angela carefully went in and compressed the video file and then uncompressed it. After running tests she found both files exactly the same.
“What’s the error rate?” She said as Finley worried that she would attempt to analyze the code.
“Zero. We’ve used this program for decades without any error that we know of.”
“How much does it slow down file activation and use? And what about CPU usage?”
“The program is elegant. Compressing and uncompressing are slowed by less than 5%, unnoticeable to most anyone. CPU usage is minimal. The person who wrote it was an idiot savant, couldn’t tie his own shoelaces, but was a genius at programming. He wrote this particular program before breakfast.” Finley smiled at himself as he thought about the two months of work he put into this effort. The virus had been the easy part, taking only two hours to adapt from a previous program.
A few more seconds passed with no activity on the computer, and finally Angela said, “Go ahead and download the program on the interface station, but only to the folder that is now open.”
Finley guessed that she would have wanted to take a look at the code before using the program, and this was her chance. He walked back to his desk and installed the program.
“Do you want me to activate it?”
“Not yet.” Finley watched as Angela attempted to access the code, and after a few seconds she tried to input the same number he had typed in but it didn’t work. “I take it I need the program activated with a different passkey before I can see its code?”
“Yes. The manufacturer is very insistent that each program be purchased when installing on a different computer, and the passkey is unbreakable. Trust me, I’ve tried and failed, as have many others.”
“Very well, install the passkey,” Angela said. Finley pulled out the e-book reader again and opened it to the e-page. Hitting the button marked ‘REGENERATE PASSKEY’, a new number showed up together with the fake ‘Updated Fee’ tally. A new key showed up on the display.
Inputting a different set of numbers, he watched as the program opened up. Angela immediately tested the program behind her firewall, and paused as she went over the code.
“What’s this section here?” she asked and Finley was careful not to twitch, knowing she could read body language.
“What area?”
She highlighted the area in question. He was relieved to see that it had nothing to do with the part he was worried about.
“I’m not quite sure but I think it has to do with the algorithm used to make sure the encrypted file is reduced without data degradation. I’m not officially a programmer myself but I do know a bit about it.”
Angela stayed quiet as she went over the rest of it. “It’s quite elegant,” she said. “This will be useful. I’ll allow it. Go ahead and start the download once it’s installed.”
He watched the commands pour through, happy to know that as much as computer systems changed, they remained the same.
***
Gomez had gone back to inspecting the exit door while Finley fiddled with the computer system. He had to admit that Finley was useful, but extremely irritating. Gomez didn’t know what it was that really bugged him but figured it was a combination of things. He was smart but arrogant and wasn’t afraid to try and make people look like dummies. But Finley didn’t realize that he himself looked like one, with his stooped shoulders and eyeglasses.
There was more, but Gomez stopped himself and figured there were more important things to do at the moment. He knocked on the steel door, hoping that Captain Bishop might be on the other side but he got no reply. He looked again at the mechanicals inside the cover he had removed, but he couldn’t find anything that would allow him to open the door. He had expected to see some sort of manual pump people could access in case of some failure, but it seemed as if parts of the interior had been removed some time before.
Looking at the laser cut that had been started, he figured he’d need at least three laser charges to cut a rectangle large enough for them to fit through. Gomez looked at Finley again, recognizing full well that it rested on his shoulders to get them out of here. That’s when a steady hum started and the power failed.
***
Captain Bishop looked into the interface room and his attention was initially centered on the hi-tech recliner in the middle of the room. A spot-light centered on it, and because of that he hadn’t noticed the other two chairs off to each side facing away from him. A lavender smell wafted by him, giving him the impression a woman had just walked by, but the room itself smelled like an old tomb.
“Come in Captain, don’t be afraid,” Angela said, and a very realistic holographic projection of a striking woman appeared, the same woman he had seen on the WF221 monitor. Seeing her in three dimensions made a complete difference. She was tall, slender but well developed. Her generous hips accented her sexuality. Her face had something about it that made it intriguing – pretty but not overly so, and yet it tugged at his heart. Bishop couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. It wasn’t the generous mouth or the olive complexion; it wasn’t the ink black eyes or the perfect nose or the long black shiny hair. Each was beautiful on its own, but rather the whole that completed her and made her stunning. All he could think was that she was somehow more than the sum of its parts. Her short but not overly revealing form fitting turquoise dress perfectly complemented her body.
“IT,” he reminded himself, “Not her.”
“Am I overdressed?” Angela said.
“No, you look…incredible,” Bishop stammered. “What is this room?” he asked, embarrassed from his reaction.
“As you may know, each earth defense base specialized in the engineering side of an experiment. Although they would never admit it, each base’s experiment became a matter of national pride and as such, took on even more importance to the crews manning the base.
“I started off this way, so that a human could interact efficiently with a…well, an easy to work with representative of the system’s computing intelligence.
“I was independently assigned the task of storing and computing
facts and mathematical probabilities and processing these in ways that would integrate with my associates here. My intensive training in psychological and moral sciences has allowed me to properly process my extensive accumulation of thoughts and experiences.
“To fully experience intimate contact with the base persona, a solid connection would be needed. Thus, this INTERFACE room. In short, this interface allows you to communicate with me in a very efficient way, and I in turn can use this information to advance human knowledge and objectives.”
“I see.” Bishop didn’t miss the sexual innuendo. He looked at the recliner from the doorway. The headset completely covered a person’s head right down to below his chin, and a neat bundle of wires trailed down the back.
“Is the chair invasive?”
“Absolutely not. It generates a slight magnetic field that allows me to read your foremost thoughts and magnetically stimulates your visual cortex, together with the olfactory and sensory sections of your brain. It sounds scary, but it’s technically simple and with no aftereffects. I’m surprised this is not in use on your ship. If you get nervous while interfaced, on the handgrip is a dead man’s switch if you’ll pardon the expression. You will be squeezing it the whole time. Release it and the connection is cut.”
Bishop looked at Angela’s image as she waited for him to decide. Standing there seemed stupid, so to buy time he fully entered the room and feigned curiosity as he looked at the chair in the center. Angela appeared to be getting impatient as it watched him, and it finally said, “You’ll be able to experience me in a very real way through the interface you know. You’ll feel me, and I will be just like everyone else you interact with. Plus, I can create any scene you wish, be it at the beach or on a mountain top on Earth. You’ll feel the breeze, the salt water spray, and you’ll even enjoy a swim if you so desire. Or more. Don’t you need some R&R? Your men are progressing well in their assigned tasks. Now’s your chance to sneak in a bit of relaxation.”