“You couldn’t have done anything about it,” said Dan. “They imprison and torture whistle-blowers.”
“Maybe,” said the director, taking a moment to chew on those words before resuming the documentary. The video played for a few seconds before he stopped it again. “In the wake of the Great Layoff, people lost their humanity, destroying with reckless abandon. It was utter insanity. I was here, studying at this very library, when a Molotov cocktail was launched through the window. A piece of shrapnel ripped through my eye. The heat cooked me alive.”
Stanley trembled. He couldn’t wait for this story to end.
“A young officer pulled me out of the fire. Evan Wilcox, Marshfield’s future police deputy. If it wasn’t for him, I would have lost much more than my eye.”
“That’s insane. Were there any children injured?”
The director nodded. “Several. But Evan and another officer saved them all. Everything inside was destroyed, and all that was left was a brick shell.”
“My God! How could anyone justify that sort of violence?” said Stanley.
“Speaking from experience, we humans are capable of horrible things. There is always an excuse that we can use to discard our responsibilities.”
The words burned in Stanley’s heart. For twenty years, he had hidden from the world. He had to protect the world from himself, and he had to protect himself from the world. A strong feeling of knowing moved up his spine into his head. Who, really, was this internal entity that needed protection?
“After I replaced my eye, I knew I had to do something to help. So, I approached Evan, told him about my experiences in the military, and asked how I could help.”
“You fought with him?”
“Fought? No. Evan told me that my duty was to get others to stop fighting each other. I created a support center here in the library, where I did my best to show people how to live a meaningful life without a job. Though I failed to — ”
“He’s a madman,” hissed Stanley. “Deputy Evan Wilcox is an evil madman.”
“War changes people. I know it changed me. But back then, I knew of no man more honorable and courageous than Evan. It was an honor to be a part of his team. Marshfield is fortunate to have him.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” said Stanley. “But what about the machines he’s destroyed? He’s obliterated androids and cyborgs out of pure hatred.”
“How can you be so sure that he isn’t protecting us from them?”
“Because they’re not out to get us.”
“Are you sure about that? Look at what has happened since they entered the workforce. Humanity has crumbled.”
“But androids and cyborgs are bound by a rigid set of codes. They don’t make decisions like humans do,” said Dan.
Stanley fidgeted with his fingers. Something didn’t feel right, but he didn’t know why. “If anyone is responsible for their bad behavior, it’s the programmers. Or humanity.”
“Now you’re getting somewhere. But it makes no difference if they choose this path of destruction or follow orders like utterly obedient soldiers. They’re on a different side from us.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Stanley.
“It’s class warfare. And they — the elite — have all but won. They live in their mega-towers, enjoying the finest foods, drinks, and arts, protected and watched over by their private army of MBTA soldiers, while the rest of us fuse out and eliminate ourselves. I’ve told this to Frank a dozen times, but he’s refused to accept this. He wants to keep dreaming, selling his vegetables and pretending like everything is okay.”
“Let’s take a step back from the — ” Stanley scrunched his nose “ — theory. What happened with your campaign at the library?”
“I was making a difference. But for every one person I got through to, five were unreachable. They either got hooked on fentanyl or were hell-bent on stirring up trouble. Small skirmishes between militia and drones popped off around the country. Humans had no chance against these unstoppable war machines, but they didn’t care. It seemed like mankind had lost its sanity, choosing death by drone over despair.”
“That’s insane,” said Dan.
“The resistance movement became more powerful and organized. Civil war loomed around the corner. When tensions were at their highest, fuse appeared, a panacea for all of our problems — and free for all.”
“It arrived just in the nick of time,” said Stanley.
“Yes, perfectly so — like they had planned it all along. Within weeks, the chaos ended, and the world began to slumber.”
“So, you’re saying that the elite used fuse to wipe us all out?”
Dan shrugged. “It’s not like the effects weren’t known back then. Anyone with the power to manufacture and distribute fuse on that level would have had the capability to run predictive models and see what was going to happen.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” said the director, nodding toward Stanley. “They knew what they were doing — population reduction.”
“This might not be a popular opinion, but from a pragmatic point of view, it solved a lot of problems,” said Stanley.
“What are you — FBI? CIA?”
Stanley shrank back. “No, of course not. All I’m saying is that drastic times call for drastic measures.”
“So, that makes it all right?” asked Dan.
“People do their best, but it doesn’t always have the optimal result.” Even as he said it, Stanley felt himself resist his own words.
“And what if they were the ones to orchestrate these drastic times?”
Stanley looked toward Dan.
“The government, who I, without a doubt, believe created fuse, pushed the legislation forward that allowed AI to take our jobs. Their actions led to the unrest and the riots, which allowed them to unleash fuse upon the masses. People were literally begging to be killed — via fuse — which was exactly what they wanted.”
“But fuse doesn’t kill people,” said Stanley. “I haven’t done this since Dan came into my life, but when I’ve been stressed in the past, I would loosen up with a little whiskey. That doesn’t mean I want to be drunk for the rest of my life.”
The director nodded. “You’re right. And all those people thought the same thing. Most of the opioid addicts had offed themselves already. The survivors wanted to live but were struggling with insanity.”
“So, what made fuse different?”
“Because it was marketed as a cure for depression. People struggling to find hope took what they thought was medicine, and it destroyed them. Here’s the most ridiculous part — and most people don’t believe me, and I don’t care if you don’t, either. Fuse is almost entirely made of fentanyl. The only difference is marketing. Countless Americans had their prayers answered when the advertisements for liquid happiness came out. They were down and needed help, and the government swooped in and took them out. The euphoria took away the last thread of desire to fight out a life in this world. That’s why Frank can’t wrap his head around it. His wife, like so many others, no longer had the will to live.”
“That’s unforgivable”, said Stanley.
“Fuse kills you. You may still have a pulse, but once you’ve fused out, you have completely ended your relationship with the world. There is no coming back. Nowadays, it’s the coward’s noose. But, back then, it was pure deception.”
“But there are people who have come back.”
“No,” said the director. “Someone may have tried a microdose of fuse and been fine, but anyone who has fully fused out has been stricken with such a strong compulsion to do it again that they can’t function normally. And because of the fuse-farms, they are all but guaranteed to spend the rest of their lives fused out.”
“What would happen if someone came out of it and couldn’t find their next
fix?”
“Insanity. I don’t know of anyone who has come out and not done everything in their power to get back on it. Failing to fuse up again, they always found a way to kill themselves. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Horrible!” Stanley shook his head.
“What do you mean?” asked Dan. “Do you think it’s possible that it’s not that addictive? After all, you said it’s practically pure fentanyl.”
“People who chose to fuse out are often at the point of suicide anyway, so it doesn’t say much if they end up killing themselves afterward. I don’t know if it’s something that mixes in with fentanyl, or just a state of the times, but I’ve never heard of someone waking up from fuse and wanting to live a normal life again.”
“So, this is really just mass euthanasia.”
“Basically. Except that people are given a way to feel good again, and a secure facility to make the experience continual. That is why Deputy Wilcox has shown the town great compassion by creating the fuse-farms. The amount of suffering he has alleviated is immeasurable.”
Stanley clenched his fist. “It certainly does not make up for all the evil he has done.”
The director nodded. “Horrible things happen during war.”
“This isn’t a war!” said Dan.
“In his eyes, it is.”
Tension filled Stanley’s body until he forced himself to change the subject. “So, if we consider those who have fused out to be dead, then fuse didn’t do anything to curb the death toll.”
“Right.” A pained look came over the director. “The population is being purposely obliterated, and we are hopeless to do anything about it.”
“You’re wrong,” said Dan.
The director waved him off. “Go back to sleep if you want, but this is the truth of the world.”
“You’re wrong about there being nothing to do about it.”
“Go on.”
“A great inflection point is coming. A singularity whereby the pace of the world will accelerate beyond anything mankind can currently imagine.”
“You’re speaking about artificial general intelligence?”
“Exactly.”
“Experts have been talking about it happening for years, but nobody has cracked it. I don’t even think it’s possible.”
“Well, it is possible.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Stanley has created it.”
The director looked at Stanley incredulously. “Uh, huh.”
“It’s true,” said Stanley.
“Like I said, he’s a genius.”
“Where’s your proof?”
Stanley grinned. “You’ve been talking to him for the past hour.”
The director was speechless.
Dan’s phone buzzed. Taking a look at it, his humble face filled with excitement.
Stanley turned toward him. “What’s going on?”
“Someone needs me.” Dan grabbed his own shirt as if he were going to rip it off and reveal a Superman outfit.
“Your first mission — is it dangerous?”
Dan’s face reddened. “A boy got his ball caught in a tree.”
“A tall tree?”
“Stop! I’ll be fine.”
Stanley felt his heart race. “Text me when you’re done, and then come straight home.”
After Dan left, Stanley continued to talk with the librarian about Dan. “We are doing all we can to show the world what he can do. We want to ease humanity into the next phase of existence, the coexistence of human and machine.”
“That’s a lofty goal.”
“But it’s a worthy one. Humanity is too prone to err — look at all of our despicable crimes. AGI will show us the way.”
“What makes you think they won’t make the same mistakes?”
“Because it’s impossible for Dan to make a mistake.”
“I hope you’re right.”
A chill ran down Stanley’s spine.
The director stood up. “I’d like to arrange for you and Dan to give a presentation here next week.”
“Really?” Stanley looked around. “You aren’t afraid of the police?”
The librarian hesitated. “Evan’s an old friend. He may be averse to AI, but he’s a reasonable man.”
Chapter 10
A barren maple tree clutched a white soccer ball in its bony hands. Calculations ran through Dan’s head. Even though retrieving it was not directly helping machine life, getting out to the people to showcase himself was important. He could easily throw a stick or rock and dislodge it, but this was his first mission, and he wanted to make it awesome. “Do you mind filming me?”
“Sure,” said the little boy who had requested his help. Thick brown dreadlocks ran down to his shoulders. He could not have been more than eleven years old.
Dan rubbed his hands together. “Ready?”
The boy nodded.
“Hey, guys. It’s Dan, and I’m on my first mission — ball retrieval. So, normally, I would knock it out of the tree with a projectile, but I figured ‘Why not show you all some of my elite ninja skills?’” He looked up. “The ball is about twenty feet off the ground. I’m going to climb up there and knock it down without using my arms.”
“Really?”
“That’s right.” Dan took a few steps back and burst into a sprint. In a fluid motion, he ran vertically up the tree, jumping onto the first branch, which was about five feet off of the ground. Then he hopped from branch to branch until he reached the ball, which he quickly kicked to the ground.
The boy put the phone in his pocket and rushed beneath Dan to catch the ball. “Awesome!”
But Dan wasn’t celebrating. As he kicked the ball, he felt the branch crack. “Look out!”
The boy looked up. He froze.
Dan fell at free fall, seconds away from crashing down on the unfortunate boy, his first mission ending up a disaster. His processors were running on overdrive, quitting deep calculations and searching for the first safe option. He needed to act as soon as possible to protect everyone. No time for deep analysis and postulations. His arm punched upward, smashing into a branch and accelerating his fall. His leg whipped at the falling branch. Once he felt it, he kicked it away, careful not to split it. The world twisted around him as he spun. He desperately scanned for something to stop his fall, but there was no nearby branch. Nothing to grab hold of. “Move!”
The boy didn’t budge.
Not comprehending what was going on, Dan took off his shoes, spreading both arms to his side, and whipped them forward as hard as he could. The force propelled him backward. He landed several feet from the boy, breaking his fall with a roll.
“You nearly squished me!”
Dan’s heart was beating hard. Getting up, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. “Sorry about that.”
“You were incredible.”
“Thank you. I shouldn’t have shown off and taken those risks. You could have been hurt.”
“It happens.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
The boy shrugged.
“Not even a little?”
“Why would I be afraid?”
Dan shook his head. “Because you would be feeling a lot of pain!”
The boy took a vial out of his pocket. “No, I wouldn’t. Just chug this down, and I’d be fine.”
“What’s that?”
“Nanites in fuse.”
“You’ve had fuse before?”
“Don’t you think I tried to climb the tree already? I fell so many times, I had to give up. That’s when I found you online.”
“So, you’re high right now?”
“Not high. There’s barely any fuse in here at all. Only enough to get rid of the pain.”
Dan limped over to look at it, h
olding it in his hand. That’s why the boy seemed fearless.
“You look hurt. Drink it.”
As he held it, he thought about fuse-farms and how many people had fused out for good. “I’m fine — it’s just a sprain.” If this stuff was as addictive as he had heard, who in their right mind would give it to their kid? “Where are your parents?”
Dreadlocks-boy juggled the ball in the air with his feet. “They’re fused out. I’m all by myself.”
“So, who takes care of you?”
“Nobody. I’m a ward of the state.”
Dan motioned for the ball, catching it in his hands. The pain was worsening, and he could already feel it swelling. He tossed the ball back to the boy, who returned it with a kick. “So, do you have a social worker checking on you?”
He shook his head. “Better than that. I’ve got an app.”
“An app?”
“Yeah. I can order all the food I want, and all I have to do is a video check-in every day.”
“What about school?”
“School’s stupid. Why would I go there and be bored all day when I can stay home and play?”
“To learn. To meet new friends. To make the world a better place. There are so many reasons!” Instantly, Dan knew that an entire generation of children were facing this same dilemma. Frank was right; these children needed help.
The boy shrugged.
They continued playing with the ball for a while. Every other return kick, the ball would stray too far from Dan’s reach. He could hop a little to try to catch it, but he didn’t want to put too much weight on his ankle. “Here, try kicking like this …”
After the explanation, Dreadlocks-boy’s kicks continued to improve. Soon, he wasn’t missing any returns — which was good for Dan, because the pain in his ankle had worsened to the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about drinking the vial. “Where did you get that medicine?”
“From the app. I order it when I need it. The tracking information on it prevents me from having more than three.”
“May I?” If it didn’t cause the boy to become addicted, it should be fine for him. Plus, it was issued by the government, so it had to be safe. Unless Jean Morrison’s wild conspiracy theories were true.
Stanley Duncan's Robot: Genesis Page 13