AI VS MERGENTS

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AI VS MERGENTS Page 10

by Michael Kush Kush


  24

  The loud ring of my mobile phone awakens me. I look at the alarm clock: 01:00. I reach for the phone next to the bedside lamp and I answer. “Hello.”

  “It’s me David.”

  “Oh … Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”

  He clears his throat. “I’ve been robbed,” he says.

  “Oh my… are you ok?”

  “No, my head is throbbing like hell.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Hang in there, buddy.”

  “Where is Saul?” he asks.

  “In his bedroom, why are you asking?”

  “Guess what the burglars took?”

  “Money, jewelry?”

  I hear him chuckle on the other end. “None of my valuable items were taken except my notepad and recorder.”

  “Strange,” I murmur. “Let me go check up on him. Hold on.” I jump from bed and head to Saul’s bedroom. I knock and open the door. He’s sitting on the bed playing the guitar. I wave at him. “Hello.” “Hi Yolanda, you are awake. Do you need anything?” I shake my head. I take a step back and close the door.

  “David, are you still there?”

  “Yes, I heard him. The police asked me something.”

  “What?”

  “Do I have enemies or have an idea who might have done this to me. I said no, but I have a bad feeling.”

  “What?”

  “I suspect Saul.”

  My heart stirs. “What? No way, did you mention his name to the cops?”

  “Nah, I didn’t. I’ll see you soon and be careful.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  In an instant, crazy thoughts race through my mind. If he did go to David’s house, how did he know where he stays? Even if he knew, what would he do with his damn notepad and recorder? I shake my head in confusion as I enter my bedroom. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. From now on I will monitor Saul very closely.

  The next morning, I realize I overslept again. Footsteps echo past my room. I jump out of bed. As I coast down the stairs, I see Saul sitting on the couch glaring at the coffee table. I don’t know what to make of this.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “Hello,” he replies without moving or looking at me.

  “Are the kids at school?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Good. Have you finished cleaning?”

  “No,” he responds unapologetically. “Can we talk?”

  My heart thumps. Oh my … every time I hear those three words I freeze, because I know there’s gonna be trouble or an argument coming. I catch a glimpse of his face. His face is blank, like someone vacuumed away all his personality, leaving only a mask. He doesn’t look like him at all. But at least he’s not crying. Why would he? Robots don’t have tears.

  I nod and sit next to him. “Ok. What is it?”

  “Are you happy?” he asks

  “Of course I am.”

  “Are you satisfied with my work in your household?”

  “Yes.”

  “How? What do you like about me exactly?”

  I chuckle lightly. “Saul, you making me nervous. Where’s this all coming from?”

  “This is important. I need to know.”

  “Uh … I like you because you’re systematic, you love my kids, a good listener, efficient, your database of dry humor cracks me up and most importantly you’re a decent conversationalist.”

  He nods his metal head. He gives me a blank stare and pulls his silicon eyebrows together in a gesture of sadness. Oh my … I’ve never seen this side of him before. “Are you alright?” I ask.

  “Yolanda I feel lonely. I’d like you to build another robot,” he says. His voice is firm, very serious, not like the usual Saul at all.

  I tilt my head back in confusion. “Why?”

  “I noticed every human has a companion and a family except me. I also need a companion.”

  “Hahaha. Cyber-romance?” I wipe the tears off my eyes with the back of my hand. “E-dating is impossible for a robot like you.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s impossible, I just can’t do it.”

  “If you don’t do it. I’m afraid you will never see me again.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No.”

  I stand, rush upstairs and reach for my mobile phone. “Jimmy, can you send someone to my house to check out Saul. “Ok, I’ll send someone down there. Give me your address.”

  A few hours later, a customer support associate fixes and puts back Saul’s circuits and hardware back and assures me that “Saul’s phrasing must be a glitch and that he cannot possibly be feeling sad or lonely.”

  “That’s a relief but I know what I saw.”

  “He was not programmed to be sentient—that is, he was not made to be able to feel pleasure or pain, happiness or sadness. Any comments describing a mental state is not the expression of an actual feeling but rather a programmed response designed to please customers. When the response does not please customers, the robot needs to be tweaked in order to produce more appropriate responses.”

  “Ok, but the way he raised his silicon eyebrows. Sadness swept all over his face.”

  “The same goes for facial gestures. “Saul has the capacity to look sad only so that you can feel understood by him when you are sad yourself,” says the associate.

  I listen and follow the associate’s advice. Then I wave him goodbye as his car moves out of my driveway.

  When I come back inside the house. I ask him if he is feeling any better. “Yes, much better, thank you,” says Saul.

  From that day, he never again mentions experiencing any loneliness, but every now and then I notice a facial gesture of sadness when he thinks I’m not looking at him. And that makes me nervous and wonder whether I should send him to get repaired again. I’m not paranoid. I know what I heard. I know what I saw. Saul said he was feeling lonely and he looked sad, but the customer support chap assured me. I shouldn’t take his behavior serious given that he was only programmed to express and not to experience feelings as a way of satisfying customers. One might think that perhaps we could trust machine behavior as evidence for sentience if it was spontaneous. I chuckle. I wish David was here to help me with this, but the poor fella has enough on his plate already. Now I’m taking the page off his AI wisdom. Suppose Saul had not been taught or programmed to express emotions but somehow, he could and did.

  Maybe Saul is a kinda robot that is already capable of offering solutions that were not programmed into them; they can teach themselves to improve. Or designed to please his owner but he has not been programmed with how to do so. Instead, he learns through trial and error. Suppose he learns that his owner feels better about her own life when Saul says he feels lonely. Again, that Saul is able to say the right thing to achieve his ends like please me even though he doesn’t want to, need not imply there is any experience of subjectivity behind his assertions. I sigh. I shake my head as I stroll toward the kitchen. Maybe coffee will help me clear my head.

  25

  I can never explain nor do not have the English vocabulary for what I wish to say and how it makes me feel to be a robot in Appian. Frustration is building up. I do not fit to be part of the human race. I thought friendship was supposed to be mutually beneficial for both parties. I thought she could trust and confide in me, like she used to. It appears David and Jimmy are her new friends now. She trusts them more than me. I heard everything they said about me, when they were in the mainframe center. David and Jimmy know nothing about me or where I come from. If she had concerns about my behavior, she should have asked. Secondly she refused to grant my wish of having a companion. Another critical issue is, my fate is always up for discussion between those three. I don’t wish to live a life of always running away from something. At least now, I know the mainframe center holds the key to my survival. This changes everything. I’m not going to tolerate having my potential limited by the utter stupidity of human-level intelligence.
r />   26

  The sound of a slamming door rudely awakens me. What was that? I jump from bed, yank the door open and yell as my heart thumps. “Who’s that?” Footsteps echo from downstairs toward the stairs. “It’s me, Saul.” “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be in your bedroom.”

  He climbs the stairs and stops in front of me. “I was taking a walk around the neighborhood.”

  “What? Are you sick?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “You know I can destroy you in matter of seconds, right?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replies cheekily.

  “Well, I will if you keep doing nonsensical things.”

  “What’s nonsensical about requesting a companion?”

  “Nonsensical questions deserve nonsensical answers,” I yell. “Fuck you, you piece of metal scrap.”

  He walks past me. “Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished.”

  “Go to sleep, Yolanda,” he says as he goes inside his bedroom.

  I storm inside my room, I slam the door and I sit on the edge of the bed. My relationships are beyond resolvable. First it was Charles and Jody. Now it’s Saul. What have I done to deserve this? I feel tears stream fast down my cheeks. As I’m about to go under the sheets, I hear Saul’s distinctive faint metal tapping, faint shuffling on the corridor. I climb out and open the door. I don't say anything and I make sure he doesn’t see me. He strolls down the stairs, I follow him to my study. I peer his movements in the study. Saul’s bright and perspective eyes gaze on a stack of books on the shelf. He leafs through the pages of many books. I realize gratitude is not in Saul’s limited catalogue of feelings, but interest and curiosity were. That coldness in his eyes I saw earlier hinted at many things, but obedience was not one of them. Saul, on the face of it, appears to be the antithesis of everything a good robot should be. Suddenly, a raw feeling of unease creeps in, stronger than ever, and this time it’s all mixed up. I don’t like the feeling. I distrust it. It seems whatever the change is, it’s nothing good, like sorrow and bad times ahead for all of us. I feel like I’m in another realm, like I am Leo DiCaprio in a sort of dream within a dream within a dream and when I wake up, this feeling will be over. No, this is real and happening right now. Saul has gone rogue — a sentient which is playing me like Geppetto.

  I sneak back into my bedroom and cover myself with the sheets. I know what I have to do tomorrow. I heave a deep sigh. But, what will I tell the kids? I still haven’t told them that their father and I getting a divorce. They think he went on a business trip and he will back soon. What will I tell them about Saul? This will devastate them. And what does that say about me? A panic state is not helpful to good decision making. I shake the thought out of my mind. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

  27

  The next morning. The clock blasts into my ears, waking me up instantly. Before I can think of anything else. I hear my children scream and running down the stairs. My heart jumps. “Kate, Anthony,” I yell. I climb out of bed and storm out of the bedroom and I peer down to the lounge. Anthony is chasing her sister down the stairs. I breathe a sigh of relief. I thought they were in danger. They climb on top of the coffee table jumping up and down. I heave a worrying sigh. Kids move when they are in a playful mode like lightning bugs, and they do have accidents. No parent can keep them safe every minute of the day. “Get off the table,” I shout. I realize something is amiss. I mistakenly think it is a weekend, but realize it’s Friday and the kids are supposed to be at school. Saul comes to mind. I turn around and open his bedroom door without knocking. My eyes glance around the room. “Saul?” I call him out. Where is he? I stroll back and lurch downstairs. “Morning rugrats,” I greet. They stop running and turn around. “Morning mom,” they say.

  “Have you seen Saul this morning?”

  They stare at each other. Then they turn their heads and give me a blank stare as they shake their heads. “Where is he mommy?” Anthony asks.

  “That is a good question, my boy.”

  “Who is going to make us breakfast and take us to school?” Kate asks.

  I shrug. “I will,” I say.

  “Let me run you two a nice warm bubble bath.” They cheer behind me as we saunter toward the bathroom.

  *****

  After I left the kids at school, I take the shortcut route to the government building. Damn it. Thinking about Saul tends to make me very angry, I try not to do it. I prefer it to stay tucked away in the back of my mind until I pull the plug on him. I let out a sigh. So this is what it has come to huh? I stomp on the brakes and the car stops on the parking lot. I step out of the vehicle and head inside the building. I realize the lift is over capacity. I don’t care, I push and force myself inside. It chimes and the doors close. I take sidelong glances at my reflection in the mirror. I realize I’m the only human in the lift. The robot on my left, must be a courier boy, he’s carrying a lot of parcels and small boxes. The robot on my right, with a black uniform and a badge on the left side of his chest is definitely a cop. And the robot on the far right, wearing a dirty blue overall must be the janitor or garbage man. I shake my head. How did we get here? Over 98% of Appian workforce are robots. What if they all start thinking like Saul. I shudder at the thought.

  As I step out of the elevator I notice four tall men with big chests standing by the AI department entrance, they look familiar. I wear a smile. These are my ex-bodyguards. “Hi guys,” I say warmly. “Good Morning, Mrs. Roberts,” they reply at the same time.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “We are with the President.”

  “Scott is here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you cleared to be here ma’am?” the other bodyguard asks politely.

  “Oh yes,” I reply as I reach for my access card in the back pocket of my pants. I hand it to him.

  He looks at it. Then hands it back to me. “It is a pleasure seeing you again ma’am.”

  “Thanks.”

  I wonder what President Scott Adams is doing here? There’s only one way to find out. As I stride inside, I hear Scott’s and David’s voice. Arguing about something. “Morning everyone,” I interrupt them with a big smile. Scott turns round abruptly, gives me a sharp stare and points at me.

  “You are in trouble, young lady,” he says.

  I roll my eyes. “What have I done now?” I ask, as I stare at his old military attire. Can anyone remind this man to buy himself a decent suit, he is the president for pit’s sake.

  “My sister told me my brother-in-law David was attacked two days ago, apparently by a robot.

  “No, Julia is twisting my words. Everything was a blur. I didn’t see anything,” David says.

  “But you do suspect a robot, right?”

  David shrugs. “Something like that.”

  He turns and gives Jimmy a blank stare. “Jimmy, what the hell is going on?” he asks.

  “I can explain everything Mr. President …” he stutters.

  “Jimmy didn’t do anything wrong. I made him do it?” I say.

  “Do what? Scott asks.

  “Yolanda asked Jimmy to build a robot for her. Not just any robot, a unique robot that can think on its own,” David says.

  “What?” Scott exclaims. “Jimmy how could you allow this to happen.

  “I thought you approved this since you gave them the access cards.”

  His face turns red. “You’re an idiot.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Jimmy lets destroy this thing now.”

  Scott looks at us fiercely. “I’m ashamed to be associated with you. You make me sick. You’re nothing but opportunists. And you Jimmy, take care of this now or kiss your job goodbye.”

  Jimmy’s body trembles, then he nods. “Yes sir.”

  “David, Yolanda, hand me your access cards,” he demands. As I’m about to hand mine, Scott snatches it. “I should have known. Wherever you are, drama always unfolds.”

  Scott wal
ks away from and storms out of the office. Jimmy rushes toward the mainframe center. “I’m in deep trouble. Where is Saul?”

  “I don’t know. He vanished,” I reply.

  He starts typing on the keyboard like his life depends on it. His forehead beads with a light sweat. “No problem. I’ll triangulate his location. Then I will press the Kill Switch button.”

  “Pull the plug Jimmy, now,” David says.

  Jimmy’s chair swivels and looks at us “It’s not working,” he says in panic.

  “What? You’re the IT guy, make it work,” I say.

  “What do you mean it’s not working?” David asks.

  “I initiated the kill switch three times and I keep getting a Miscellaneous Error message.

  “This is not good. Try again.”

  “How was Saul’s behavior when you called me the other day?” Jimmy asks.

  “He asked me to build another robot. He needs a companion. Why would he need a companion?”

  “He knows he is different from other robots. That’s why he needs a robot like himself,” David says.

  “Yes,” Jimmy exclaims. “Mission accomplished.” We glare at the screen. “Have you taken Saul out?” “Yes, I activated the kill switch.” “Good.”

  “Where is he located?” I ask.

  “In your house… wait.”

  “What is it?”

  “Saul is still moving and the screen keeps sending notifications of his updates. Oh my god, I’m in deep shit,” Jimmy says.

  “I thought you said you destroyed him.”

  “I did, it seems Saul has acquired sophisticated programming skills without specific task oriented programming.”

  “I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so,” David says.

  “Saul has beaten us to it. He hacked into our mainframe,” Jimmy says.

 

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