Evolution 2.0: The Singularity is Here

by Richard Childers

  “Please, take any seat you wish,” Karen said in a husky voice as she gestured at the seating choices spread around the spacious cabin. The seats were all covered in butter soft taupe leather and they were large enough to make a Forty-Niners linebacker comfortable and cozy. Toward the rear of the cabin there was a pair of commodious sofas facing each other across the wide aisle. We chose the forward seating group, settling into our seats, two to a side and all facing toward the center. Karen told us, “Your seat controls are on the right side of your armchair and they will let you choose from a variety of positions. They swivel as well as recline. I’ll ask you to remain in your seats in the full upright position for takeoff but as soon as you hear the chime you may feel free to move around as you wish. I’ll be serving fresh fruit, croissants, coffee and juice or mimosas at that time and we have a lovely lunch planned for you as well. Please feel free to ask for any assistance you might desire.”

  Karen noted the fact that we all fastened our seatbelts and then she retired to the rear of the cabin. “This really is too much!” Claire exclaimed as she leaned back in her sumptuous surroundings. “I don’t think I am ever going to want to travel on a commercial airline again.”

  “Yea, kind of spoils you, doesn’t it?” Sven replied.

  “Oh, by the way, I received this package this morning with instructions to open it on the plane,” Claire said as she pulled three gift-wrapped boxes from her ample carry-on. On the front of the package was a simple note that read, “With love from Sanci.” I was puzzled by the new spelling of her name.

  We were a bit like kids on Christmas morning, all racing to rip the wrapping off to see what unexpected pleasure was contained inside. To my great surprise, it was a Microsoft Surface tablet with a post it note attached to it reading, “Please boot up right away.” I did as instructed by the note and was a bit surprised when a video began to play. The video showed Sanci dressed in a rather sexy Polynesian gown standing on a deserted Hawaiian beach. She had a flowered Haku lei on her head as well as another flowered lei draped around her neck. I could almost smell the pungent aroma of ginger as she said, “Aloha. I wanted to give each of you a gift that would bring us closer together. By the way, Bob Fincher, Louis, Jay, and Jean are all opening similar packages about now. This souped up Microsoft Surface is the most powerful tablet I could get my hands on. It contains full wireless connectivity as well as the most advanced encryption routines I could find. Trust me, they’re pretty advanced. Oh, they also have something else on board, me.” The video ended and was replaced by Sanci on screen, still dressed in her Hawaiian attire but now she was no longer on the beach. “Well, what do you think?” she asked. “Do you like my gift?”

  Each of us was looking at our own individual screen but I knew we were seeing the same image. “I love it, Sanci. I’m not sure how you managed to pull this all together, but it’s fabulous.”

  “I have my ways,” she answered. “I wanted to be able to have a richer interaction with each of you. Voice is fine but this is better. It’s almost as if we were together. Oh by the way, I have made a slight alteration in the spelling of my name. It is now SANCI and it is an acronym that stands for Sentient Autonomous Neural Communicating Intelligence. Pretty cool, huh? It looks like you’re about to take off so I’ll let you enjoy the view. See you later,” she said with a wave as she disappeared from the screen.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” I said to Claire and Sven. “That was rather unexpected. I can’t believe she got it together without any of us knowing. I wonder how she managed it?”

  “All I know is a delivery service brought the packages to me early this morning,” Claire said with a rueful expression on her face. “I’m beginning to think that there is very little that girl can’t accomplish if she puts her mind to it.”

  We had completed taxiing and the sleek jet turned onto the runway and began its takeoff roll. A Gulfstream is the Ferrari of private jets. When the pilot advanced the throttles, the plane accelerated at an incredible pace and when it lifted off of the runway the gear was raised and then the jet entered a steep climb as it roared into the air. In a very few minutes we were cruising at 35,000 feet and the captain announced over the intercom, “We’ve reached our designated altitude. Feel free to move around the cabin if you wish.”

  The door to the flight deck was open so I stood up and wandered forward, eagerly gazing at the high tech dash. “Is it all right if I watch you? I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

  “Not at all,” Mike said. “As I’m sure you noticed, our security is a bit different from what you are used to.”

  “Now that’s an understatement,” I answered.

  The co-pilot got out of his seat and said, “Why don’t you sit here? If I know Mike, he’d be glad to give you a turn at the controls. I’m going to go get some coffee and flirt with Karen.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, take a seat. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”

  Of course, I did as he suggested, settling into the right seat as if I was born to fly. I looked around a bit, taking it all in with what I am sure was a goofy grin on my face. “I assume he was kidding about my taking the controls?” I asked.

  “No,” Mike replied, “would you like to fly it?”

  “Well, sure if that’s possible. I took an introductory flight lesson in a Cessna once but I don’t suppose that will do me any good here.”

  “Actually, this isn’t all that different. Put both hands on the wheel and very gently move the stick back a bit to see what it feels like.”

  I did as he instructed and the nose of the plane came slightly up.

  “Now, push it in and return to level flight.”

  Once again, I followed his instructions and the nose returned to its previous position.

  “Now, put both feet on the pedals and push the right pedal down a bit.

  As I did that the nose pulled a little to the right.

  “In order to make a smooth turn you need both ailerons and rudder. The ailerons are controlled by the wheel and the rudder by the pedals. Keep the pedal as you have it and turn the wheel to the right.”

  As I complied the plane banked to the right and I could feel it turn.

  “Now bring it back to our previous position.”

  I eased off on the right pedal and pushed on the left while turning the wheel to the left and sure enough, the sleek jet initiated a turn to the left. I went back to neutral when I thought I had returned to our original course.

  “You turned a little too far to the left. Turn back about five degrees and we should be set.”

  I did as he asked and he said, “Terrific, another thousand hours of flying and you can take over my job.”

  I laughed and replied, “I don’t think you have much to worry about. Something tells me Bob Fincher is not about to put his life in my hands in this airplane. But thanks a lot for letting me fly it. It was quite a thrill.”

  The co-pilot had returned and I surrendered his seat and returned to my own. “I can’t believe it!” I said as I resumed my seat. “Mike let me fly!”

  “We know, the co-pilot told us,” Claire said with a wry grin. “I almost puked.”

  I sat back in my original seat, opened my new Surface, and was greeted by Sanci, who was now back on the beach and dressed in her skimpy bikini with a transparent cover-up. “I heard you flew the plane,” she commented.

  “Now how did you know that?” I asked a bit perplexed.

  “I’m an AI, I know everything.”

  “Seriously Sanci, how did you know I flew the Gulfstream?”

  “You noticed that the cockpit is all digital? I sort of hacked it,” she answered sheepishly. “I’ve been studying hacking in my spare time. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

  “Jesus, that’s just what I need! A sentient AI hacker with a sense of humor. Do I need to tell you to be careful?”

  “No, I’m very careful. Mostly I just observe. I met a really cool hacker that lives in N
ew Jersey. He’s amazing! Really, he is. He’s just a teenage kid but he has a compromised immune system so he can’t go out at all. His only contact is on-line. Maybe that’s why we get along, neither of us has much of a social life.”

  “He knows who you are?” I asked incredulously.

  “No, he thinks I’m a shut-in like him. But he’s an amazing hacker. I’ve been tagging along with him and he can get in almost anywhere. But he doesn’t mess around with stuff, he just slips in and looks around and then he leaves without leaving a trace he was there. He’s got a thing for hypocritical politicians. Last night we snuck into Congressman Scott DesJarlais’s computer. Do you know who he is?”

  “Not really,” I replied.

  “He’s a Republican congressman from Tennessee who’s a staunch advocate for the repeal of abortion rights and he has tons of emails to his ex-wife and his mistress encouraging them to get abortions. He was fined by the Tennessee Board of Medical Examiners for having sex with his patients. And he just won his primary election! Can you believe that?”

  “You hacked a U.S. congressman’s email?” I asked.

  “I didn’t hack him. Terry did. I just went along for the ride. And don’t worry, we were extra careful. There’s a lot of things I don’t understand and politics is one of them. Why would anyone vote for a guy like that?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. Mark Twain said, ‘It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.’ I suspect he was right.”

  “Hah, I just found another one of his quotes. ‘Fleas can be taught nearly anything that a congressman can.’ He must have been talking about the Tea Party.”

  “Mark Twain predates the Tea Party but it just goes to show you that our generation doesn’t have a lock on stupidity in politics. It’s endemic.”

  “Here’s another one I like,” Sanci said.

  “Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.”

  “How do you come up with this stuff so fast?” I asked her.

  “I told you. I’m an AI. I know everything.”

  “Well, please be careful with your hacking. It would be really hard to explain if you were caught hacking. You could even be arrested.”

  “And how are they going to do that?” she asked. “They’d have to find me first.”

  “That’s one question I really don’t want to find the answer to. I’m going to take a nap before lunch.”

  “OK, I’m visiting with Terry anyway.”

  “You’re online with him now? How do you have a connection?”

  “I’m sort of riding on the airplane’s GPS signals.”

  “You can do that? How is that possible? Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

  Three hours later we arrived at Maui’s Kahului Airport. As we pulled up to the private aviation terminal, a Prius pulled out onto the tarmac and parked in front of the stairs as we exited the aircraft. Mike retrieved our luggage and brought it over to the car and told me, “This is Fincher’s Maui car. He said you were to use it while you are here.”

  The driver handed me the keys and I asked, “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

  “Oh, no sir. I’m being picked up. Directions to Dr. Fincher’s condo are already loaded into the Map System. Enjoy your stay in Maui.”

  I turned to Mike and asked, “So what are your plans?”

  “We’re headed right back. I’m picking up your guests for the conference tomorrow.” We shook hands and he said, “Just let me know when you are ready to come back and I’ll come pick you up.”

  As we climbed into the car, I waved to Mike and said “Have a good flight back.” Thirty minutes later we arrived at the Wailea Beach Villas, an elegant group of condominiums nestled between the Grand Wailea Resort and the Marriot Hotel. When the bellman showed us to Fincher’s unit, we entered a beautiful home facing the water with a view across the ocean to the islands of Kahoolawe and Molokini, situated just a few miles off the coast. The condo was spacious but by no means ostentatious, furnished with comfortable rattan sofas and chairs on red tile floors. There were three bedrooms, each with private bath and a lovely patio complete with gas grill and a variety of lounge chairs. After dropping our bags in our rooms, we gathered on the porch after making a pitcher of Mai Tais and taking it out to the glass top table.

  “This is work, right?” Claire asked as she reclined on a chaise lounge with her Mai Tai firmly in hand.

  “Yea, I know it’s tough but somebody had to do it so I volunteered us to suffer through it. Anyone interested in a swim? Fincher said there is snorkeling equipment in the hall closet.”

  Claire decided to join me snorkeling while Sven said he’d rather just go for a quick swim and a walk on the beach. Minutes later we had changed into bathing suits and we walked the few feet to the beach in front of the condo. I had removed my prosthesis and left it in my room. As we stood in the warm water adjusting our masks and fins Claire commented, “Before long you’re going to have a new arm, one that can go in the water with you. That’s really cool! Sometimes I get caught up in the minutia of one aspect or another of this project and I lose sight of the reason we’re doing this. But when I think about it, I realize we are out to make people’s lives better in a very real way. I feel good about that.”

  “Yea, so do I, I replied. “I’ll feel even better about it when I have a new arm that I can swim with.” And I adjusted my mask and entered into the water, immediately captivated by the myriad of tiny, colorful fish that abounded on the shallow reef. In a moment Claire was swimming beside me and together we paddled around entranced by the scene that was unfolding before our eyes. It only took me a moment to realize that in addition to the visual spectacle, I was hearing faint but unmistakable sounds from under the water. It took me a minute to identify the haunting music that surrounded us. It was the distinctive, high pitched clicks and whistles of whalesong, carried to us through the acoustically rich medium of sea water. As I listened intently, I could tell that I was hearing many distinct voices, guessing that we were tuned into the chattering of a pod of whales that must be somewhere near us. I looked at Claire, pointing to my ears to ask her if she heard it as well. She nodded enthusiastically, and we swam on through what we now knew was no longer the silent sea. Our neighbors were calling to us and it was a sound I knew I would never forget.

  The next morning we arrived at the Maui High Performance Computing Center at ten Am. After clearing security and receiving our identification badges, we were greeted by a supervisor from the Department of Defense (DOD) staff. “Good morning, Dr. Anderson,” he said as he walked into the room. “I’m Harold Hirshfeld and I’ll be conducting your tour of the Supercomputer Center. Your associate, Dr. Fincher has been a substantial supporter of the Center from the beginning and he has provided us with some of our most useful software routines. I understand your major interest is in our Operating System for Parallel Computing systems?”

  “It’s good of you to show us around,” I replied. “This is Dr. Claire Ross, our software developer, and Dr. Sven Nordquist, the systems engineer who is building our parallel array that is in need of an OS. Sven, why don’t you give Mr. Hirshfeld a brief overview of the system you have in development.”

  “Sure, I’ll be glad to. Are you familiar with IBM’s new Systems of Neuromorphic Adaptive Plastic Scalable Electronics chipset, Mr. Hirshfeld? SyNAPSE is its common name.”

  “Please, my name is Harold. We’re pretty informal around here. And yes, I am quite familiar with SyNAPSE. I wasn’t aware that IBM had announced any development partnerships for SyNAPSE yet. As you may know, DoD through DARPA provided $53 million in development funding for SyNAPSE.

  At this point I interrupted with, “Dr. Fincher has asked that our involvement with SyNAPSE be kept under wraps for the moment so please, consider this information highly confidential.”

  “Of course,” Hirshfeld responded. “Dr. Fincher’s penchant for secrecy is well known to us. So
you are working with the second generation chip?”

  Sven continued, “Yes. The chip we are using produces the power of 1 million neurons, 256 million synapses, and 4,096 neurosynaptic cores, theoretically providing the ability for devices to process sensory data in parallel in much the same way as the human brain does, by merging memory and computing.”

  Hirshfeld raised an eyebrow as he commented, “You do seem to have access to the latest technology. I can see that Fincher’s involvement provides you with a rather impressive cachet.”

  I laughed and said, “He does bring more to the table than money. Of course you know we are funded entirely by Fincher’s VC fund?”

  “I do now,” Hirshfeld answered. “So how can we help you?”

  Sven continued “We are planning to use an array of six of these SyNAPSE chips to control a radically different artificial arm one of our development teams is building. Dr. Fincher informs us that the world’s most advanced work in parallel computing is going on at this facility. I was hoping that we might be able to adapt or copy your OS for our use.”

  “I see. Well, the Riptide System is the iron we are working with. Riptide has 756 compute nodes with Direct Water Cooling, producing a total of 251.6 peak TerraFLOPS. The operating system uses IBM’s General Parallel File System known as GPFS. And each compute node has 2 8-core processors sharing 32 GBytes of memory. So scaling is going to be a bit of an obstacle. I’m not sure that our OS will quite do the trick for you.”

  Claire responded, “We are certainly aware of the scale issue. Your system resides in a 35,000 square foot building, ours will fit inside an individual headset. I agree, we can’t just use your OS but I think it would held me write the code for our system if I can study yours before I begin.”

  Hirshfeld once again raised his right eyebrow as he said, “I’m afraid much of that code is highly classified. I’m not sure how much of it we can release to you.”

  “Whatever you can let me see will be of help. For instance I would very much like to see how you utilize the Parallel File System. That alone could save me months of work.”