The Jacobs Project: In Search of Pinocchio (SYMBIOSIS)

by Samuel King

  "Girlfriend? You mean sex."

  "Indeed, I do."

  "Why the hell do we need a brain for that? Unfortunately, we've been in the sex business ever since Gary's people adapted the high-res force field generator."

  "And the Energy Manipulation Unit works fine," Horton replied. "It's the other side of the equation. No disrespect to Gary's software people, but there's only so much they can do with programmed ooh's and ah's."

  Toshima nodded. "He's right. Just like the rest of our characters, sex models respond by rote. Very little AI there."

  "People complain that the response is obviously canned," Horton said. "Either too wooden or too exuberant, never quite right for the situation." He pointed to the display, and a new set of sales figures appeared. "Sales of our sex models have dropped off precipitously over the last year… bad word of mouth."

  Fuller scoffed. "So you want to attach a brain to our system so some freaks can feel good about screwing a hologram. Do I have it about right?"

  "Like I said, it's a goldmine."

  "And Holovision and Cyber World have already done this?"

  "Not the sex part. Like Gary said, their products are for hobbyists. They each sell an integrated, single purpose package. We can market our smart individual just like any other holo character, plug and play."

  "I still don't see how adding a brain is going to change anything," Fuller said. "You'll just have a smarter character. If that's what you want, why not enhance what you've already got? Faster processors, improved programming, larger database—that sort of thing."

  Horton turned to Toshima, who sat forward in his chair, adopting a professorial manner. "You're missing the point, Art," the head of "R&D" said. "He doesn't want smarter characters, he wants thinking characters."

  "I don't get it."

  "True artificial intelligence is just that, artificial. By using all the tricks you just mentioned and giving the system the ability to make billions of decisions per second, it appears to be intelligent, but in reality there's no there, there. It's just a computer… input, process, output. The organic neural array—"

  "That's the brain?" Fuller asked.

  "Yes, and it isn't just a computer. It isn't programmed, it learns, just like we do."

  "I've heard all this crap before, but is it true, or is it some computer scientist's wet dream?"

  Toshima laughed, shaking his head. "No, it's real. I've read all about it in the tech journals." He paused and glared at Horton. "I've also talked at length about it with Dempsey. These things can really think. They're aware of their own existence."

  "Damn!" Fuller exclaimed. "So how does all of this help your sex product? Are these brains sexual?"

  Pleased with Toshima's explanation, Horton re-entered the conversation. "Not yet, but I have it on good authority that the AI people at MIT worked on it. I'm betting that for a little grant money we can get them to take that research off the shelf and dust it off."

  Fuller turned to Toshima. "You can do this?"

  "Sure, if you want to."

  "I don't see how I can turn it down, especially with these numbers," he said pointing to the display. "How long will it take to marry this brain to one of our systems?"

  "We can probably get you a prototype in a year," Toshima replied.

  Snorting, Fuller asked, "Is that a can do probably or a maybe, if the stars are aligned probably?"

  "Probably a can do probably."

  All three men laughed. "Wise ass," Fuller muttered. "Alright, Fred, get the paperwork to me, and I'll sign off on it. Gary, I want weekly progress reports and expense figures. I don't want this thing blowing a hole in our research budget. Understood?"

  "Right."

  "You made the right decision, Art," Horton assured him, beaming.

  Fuller rose from his seat and stretched, dwarfing the marketing chief. "I hope you're right. We need some good news." His brows furrowed with concern, he stared at the slumping sales figures and rubbed his forehead. "I'd be lying if I told you I thought this is going to work, though. Frankly, I think it's all bullshit."

  IV. Priscilla

  9 October 2134

  Proto-type Laboratory

  General Holographic Research Facility

  Art Fuller rubbed his hands impatiently. "Let's get this show on the road, Fred. I've got two other meetings scheduled, and I promised Ethel I'd be home by 6:00. You're not going to make me break my promise, are you?"

  His eyes wide with exaggerated concern, Fred Horton replied, "Hell, no. I wouldn't hear of it." Guiding Fuller across the lab, he added, "This will only take a few minutes."

  They stopped in front of a standard commercial holo system, different only in the shoe box size metallic enclosure connected to it by a wide, flat cable. Gary Toshima was waiting for them.

  Fuller nodded. "Gary."

  "How are you, Art?"

  "I'll be fine if you show me something good."

  "Well, I'll see what I can do for you."

  Pointing to the metallic enclosure, Fuller asked, "Is the brain in there?"

  "Yes, but we call it a neural array."

  "Uh-huh. I see you've got it connected to a Character Definition module."

  "That's right, but in this case the character isn't in the module, it's in the neural array. We pulled out all of the circuitry and software that defines the non-sentient—"

  "What the hell is that?"

  "Well, if we're going to market sentient individuals we need to differentiate them from the others, sentient and non-sentient."

  "Come on, Gary, I'm not a techno freak. Make it simple."

  "Sorry. We pulled everything that we didn't need out of the module and added what we did, personality inputs and sexual response. It also has interfaces connecting the array to the system's I/O drivers. That includes audio, visual, and projection control. We're calling it the Sentient Interface module."

  "Sounds like quite a feat."

  "It was. Of course, the I/O interface architecture was created at MIT thirty years ago, but getting it all into the module required some serious voodoo."

  Fuller smiled politely and turned to Horton. "Well, let's see it."

  "Coming right up," Horton replied. He approached the holo system, leaned over the console and brought his mouth close to its built in microphone.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Calling her," Horton replied.

  "Calling her? Where the hell is she?" Fuller demanded.

  "She's taking a walk in the woods," Toshima said, smiling.

  Fuller expelled a short, powerful breath and rubbed his forehead. "What the hell are you guys talking about, now?"

  "Nothing short of magic," Toshima answered. "My holo environment developers came up with the idea of bypassing the holo system I/O and passing data directly between the environment code and the Sentient Interface module."

  "And?"

  "Once you eliminate real world size constraints you can create environments, not holo environments but cyber environments, as complex as you want."

  "That's fascinating," Fuller said after a while. "Really, I'm impressed with the concept, but I don't see what good it does us? Humans can't use it."

  Horton broke in grinning from ear to ear. "It doesn't matter. Think about it. If you want to treat your sentient artificial to something special, say you're going away for the weekend. No problem, buy one of our many inexpensive cyber environments."

  "Wow."

  "Now you see it, don't you? And the best part is it's all software. The cyber environments can run on any computer equipped with one of our remote link modules."

  He pointed to a large computer on the other side of the lab. "The environment Priscilla is in is actually running on that T12 system over there."

  Fuller scratched his head, looking first across the lab then at the neural array container. "So her brain is here, but she's in an environment over there."

  "That's right."

  "Hmmm. That is something, isn't it? Of course it al
l depends on whether customers believe these things are really intelligent."

  Horton nodded, "That's true."

  "Well, let's take a look."

  Speaking into the microphone, Horton said, "Prepare for extraction, Priscilla."

  *

  The young woman flinched, startled by the booming voice that seemed to surround her. Extraction. She hadn't explored even half of the new trails in the forest. So many adventures waiting for her that would have to wait. She sighed. Of all the places they sent her, the forest was surely her favorite.

  She was alone there, with the exception of the animals. All of the other environments contained people who were not in fact people. They were automatons, mindless characters whose sole purpose was to test her and whatever environment she happened to be in. The designers had assured her it was necessary work, important work even. Still, she chafed at the constant, repetitive interaction with the non sentients who always said and did the same things… until the designers had them say or do otherwise.

  In the forest, her only job was to explore, to walk the many trails, testing them to make sure they led where the designers intended them to lead. No people, only animals, and they always scampered away as she approached. Of course, she would have happily shared her Shangri-La with one of her own: another sentient.

  The designers had told her one was on the way, a male they said. She looked forward to his arrival. Sometimes being the only one, a proto-type, was lonely work.

  *

  The marketing chief pressed a small button on the system's control panel, and a smartly dressed young woman appeared. She scanned the laboratory as if trying to get her bearings.

  "Art, meet Priscilla. Priscilla, this is Mr. Fuller the boss."

  The young woman smiled and extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fuller."

  Ignoring the outstretched hand, Fuller guffawed, "That's it? Come on, Fred, show me something that any garden variety character can't do."

  "Just talk to her. You'll see."

  "Talk to her, huh? Alright, but I better see something pretty damn quick."

  He thought for a moment before asking, "Okay, Priscilla, why don't you tell me the difference between hope and optimism."

  He grinned at Horton with raised eyebrows.

  Toshima chuckled.

  Priscilla's cheerful smile faded; her lips moved silently. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't think I can."

  "Whoa! That's different. I expected canned dictionary definitions."

  Horton breathed a sigh of relief. "Ask her something else."

  "No, I think I'll stick with this." Fuller brought his face close to the hologram's. "Take your time. I want you to think about it."

  "Well, I guess…"

  A wide smile spread across Fuller's face. "It's guessing?"

  "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean that literally."

  "Oh, no, don't apologize. I know what you meant. Now go ahead, please."

  With new found confidence, Priscilla smiled again and took a deep "breath."

  "Damn!" Fuller exclaimed.

  The young woman seemed startled by his outburst and hesitated before speaking. "I think having hope is wanting something to happen, while being optimistic is expecting it to happen."

  Fuller's mouth dropped open. "Can you have one without the other?"

  Priscilla hesitated, her eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "Yes, sir, you can," she said finally.

  "Explain."

  "Well, I can hope that you like me but not be optimistic that you will."

  He brought his hands together with a loud clap. "Damn! It really can think."

  When Priscilla's face clouded, Toshima coughed into his hand. "You know, Art, most of my engineers referred to her as 'It' at first, too, but after getting to know her, that's changed."

  Horton guffawed. "You're not going to go Dempsey on us, are you Gary?"

  "No, of course not. I was just making sure Art understood—"

  "I get it, Gary," Fuller said. "Really. This isn't an ordinary holo character. There's actually somebody there." He stared at Pricilla then shook his head and chuckled. "And we made her… Damn."

  "I was shocked myself, the first time I talked to it," Horton replied. "There's obviously a lot more than sex here."

  The executive vice president clapped Toshima on the back. "Your guy's really did it."

  "Wait a minute. We can't take credit for the intelligence, just interfacing it to our system."

  "Details," Fuller scoffed. "The point is we're going to make a damned fortune."

  Horton rubbed his hands together and said, "I think that's a fair assessment."

  "How long?" Fuller asked.

  "We can have it in the stores in under two years," Horton answered. "A year of beta testing—right, Gary?"

  "That's right."

  "And then however long it takes to gear up for production," Horton said. "All we need is your approval to get started."

  "Well, put a package together for Glen," Fuller said, referring to the president. "He needs to sign off on something this big. Hell, he might even want to take a look for himself, but you definitely have a go to get started."

  "I told you, Gary," Horton said, triumphantly.

  "Hey, it was a great demo," Toshima replied.

  "Yes it was, wasn't it? Okay, Art, we're done here. I told you we'd be fast."

  "What's the rush? I want to talk to Priscilla some more."

  "I thought you had other meetings."

  "They can wait."

  "And Ethel?"

  Fuller laughed. "It's not every day you get to talk to an actual smart machine. If I'm a little late you can run interference for me. Plan on coming to dinner." When Horton grimaced, he added, "Oh, come on. I've got a pretty good cook, unless Ethel's decided to do the cooking tonight." Horton's grimace became a groan, and Fuller laughed again before dismissing him with a wave. Turning to Toshima he added, "We'll see you later, Gary. Great job."

  "Thanks. I'll make sure my people get the word."

  He nodded, smiling benevolently as Toshima departed. Alone with the hologram, he shook his head in amazement.

  "I'll be damned," he said, quietly.

  While his knowledge of technology was wanting, his head for business was unsurpassed. They had created a veritable money machine. He approached the hologram and examined it, stroking his chin.

  "Okay, Priscilla," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Let's you and I have a talk."

  V. The New Plantation

  13 February 2145

  General Holographic Retail Outlet

  Southside Mall, Atlanta, Georgia

  Incept plus 712 days—almost two years. At the end of a long day in a seemingly endless progression of long days the system demonstrator smiled, cocking her head to one side, and pretended to take an interest in the salesman's pitch.

  "So you're suggesting I go with the mid range system?" the customer asked as he cast a furtive glance in her direction. A man of modest stature, he appeared to be well educated and surprisingly sure of himself. "I was under the impression the small one would do just fine."

  "Only if you don't plan to have more then one sentient or more than two non sentients," the salesman answered.

  "Well, I don't have to worry about that. I only want the one sentient. No non sentients."

  "Have you considered remote links, hosting other sentients?"

  "Don't need it," the customer replied, shaking his head.

  "Network connection speed could be a problem with the smaller system."

  The customer smirked. "Not interested in the network. Know what I mean?"

  "Yes, sir, I do," the salesman said. "In your case, I think the smaller system will do just fine." He obviously knew exactly what the customer wanted but smiled gamely in spite of his disappointment.

  The system demonstrator flinched. She also knew what the customer wanted, a sex toy—nothing more, nothing less. And given his continual glances in her direction, she had a pr
etty good idea what was coming next. She trembled ever so slightly.

  Coming closer, the customer ran his hand along her bare arm and looked at the salesman in amazement. "You know, I can even feel the little hairs on her arm?"

  "Remarkable, isn't it? Force field technology has come a long, long way since the introduction of the EMU. The resolution is simply unbelievable."

  The customer's face clouded. "I've heard various things about the, uh… resolution of other parts of the anatomy, not all positive."

  "Ten years ago, maybe. But now… the resolution is the same over the entire body. We guarantee it."

  The customer studied the demonstrator, giving every sign he remained unconvinced. She braced herself. Here it comes.

  "We do have a private display area," the salesman said, confidentially.

  "Really?"

  The salesman nodded. "I think it will answer any questions you might have."

  A broad smile crept across the customer's face. "Hmmm… Maybe I should it check out."

  "My pleasure. Let me send Helen over, and we'll get started right away."

  The demonstrator continued to smile as the salesman made entries into the holo system's control panel. When he finished, he said to her, "Alright, Helen, we'll be right there."

  "Certainly" she said with an impish grin. "I'll be waiting."

  The salesman's hand came down on a large red button, and she found herself in the "private display area", in fact, only a small room containing nothing but holo projectors in the corners and an input receiver suspended from the ceiling. She waited for it to change, wondering what motif the salesman would choose. She received her answer within seconds.

  The study. The empty room was empty no longer, suddenly filled with a variety of souvenirs and bric-a-brac. A large desk occupied one end of the room; a large globe sat in the center. Bookshelves lined three of the four walls; a mural of the solar system adorned the fourth. The study—undoubtedly a wise choice for the customer in question.

  She allowed herself a brief, quiet sob in anticipation of the coming humiliation. Her thoughts turned to her counterpart at the Northside outlet. They saw each other only occasionally, during demonstrations of the remote link facility, but she thought of him often—her only respite from the tedium and abuse.