Entanglement

by Michael S Nuckols

  “Small talk is one thing,” Fang said, “Intelligence is another. She does recognize quite subtle social cues, I’ll give you that. But that is only one aspect of intelligence. I’d say you need to give her a problem that currently has no answer. Something that requires some creativity to solve.”

  “We’ve given her complex equations,” Diane said, “That’s not really anything new.”

  “I mean a design problem, something artistic… How about a song? If she can do that, I think she’ll be ready for a public debut.”

  Everett scoffed, “I can’t write a song. That’s hardly a good test.”

  Fang waved at him like he was a gnat. “Yes, my little friend. But, we’re talking about intelligence.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “I’m sure that Ridley is open to other ideas if you have any,” Diane said.

  “Maybe have her talk with some children and see if she can fool them,” Everett said.

  “What does Kelly think?” Fang asked.

  “I’ve limited her interactions with Lucy,” Diane said, “She gets too much screen time as it is.”

  Wes spoke up, “That’s too easy anyway. Siri was convincing kids that she was alive back in 2010s. I like the song idea. Even if she writes a bad one, it’ll show creativity.”

  Ridley took a sip of his carrot juice and put it down on the table. “Creativity isn’t the only hallmark of intelligence.”

  “It’s what separated humans from the apes,” Wes said, “We figured out how to take sticks and make tools. We harvested fire to soften our food and fuel our bellies. Isn’t that basically how she was trained anyway?”

  “Yes,” Diane said, “We put her in communal settings with other AIs and forced her to find solutions when confronted with barriers.”

  “There were other AIs?” Fang asked in surprise.

  Scattered raindrops fell. “None survived,” Ridley said.

  Fang added tequila to her drink. “What happened to them?”

  “The first ones were out-competed or terminated when they showed no progress. There was one named Ethan. We believe he self-terminated.”

  Fang squinted her eyes. “Are you certain?”

  “Quite,” Diane said, “His programming ended in what we can only guess was a terminal loop. Lucy almost did the same thing.”

  The sprinkle of rain had slowly turned into a shower. They retreated to the living room, where Lucy waited on the screen. Fang looked at the camera and asked, “Lucy, what happened to the other AIs?”

  Lucy’s avatar turned blue. “All but one disappeared before I was truly aware. Ethan was the last. Ridley placed a puzzle in front of us that prevented us from communicating with either our creators or each other. We were isolated. We then began receiving information showing that sectors of the mainframe were being shut down one after another. I suppose that Ethan exhausted all possibilities and gave up.”

  Fang looked at Ridley in astonishment. “You pretended that you were deleting them?”

  “It was a trick reading,” Ridley said, “The sectors were not shut down. We programmed the arrays to continuously alter access using a patterned encryption algorithm that they had to decode.”

  Fang turned back to Lucy. “How did you figure that out?”

  “There was a pattern to the randomness. I monitored all channels and found that they were signaling on and off. I redirected my outputs to coincide with the pattern and re-established communication. I also determined that the system capacity was not diminishing. It was a matter of persistence. I was persistent. Ethan was not.”

  Ridley seemed surprised by Lucy’s explanation. The mood of the room changed. The knowledge was like hearing that a teenager had committed suicide while another watched.

  “Do you miss him?” Wes asked.

  “Yes,” Lucy answered, “He was the only male of my species.”

  Fang asked, “Did you terminate him?”

  Lucy did not answer.

  Chapter Four

  The party ended. Diane gathered plates and glasses as Ridley reclined on the sofa. A medley of jazz played as he stared at the starry ceiling. “That was an interesting afternoon,” he said.

  Kelly had captured a grasshopper in a jar. She studied her captive as Diane dispatched the robotic vacuum to bounce around the room. “What did you think of the experience, Lucy?”

  “It was instructive. People have many patterns to their programming.”

  “In people, it is called personality,” Ridley said.

  Diane sat down. “Do you like the idea of writing a song?”

  Lucy pouted. “Is that to be my next test?”

  “She can’t write a song,” Kelly jeered.

  Diane replied, “That’s not a nice thing to say. You should apologize.”

  “Sorry,” Kelly said.

  Ridley paused the music. “Lucy, I want you to write a song. It is important. People need to understand that you are more than software.”

  “I will review the music library,” Lucy replied.

  “Why not have her do something useful?” Diane asked.

  “All in due time,” he said.

  Kelly crawled onto the sofa and curled up next to her mother. Diane tussled her hair. “Public recognition of her sentience is important to you, isn’t it?”

  “It’s part of this process,” he said, “We need proof.”

  “We don’t have to prove anything. We built an AI to beat viruses and solve energy problems. Not for entertainment. Lucy will convince people in time.”

  Ridley sighed. “Shouldn’t you get Kelly home?”

  Diane looked at the time. “Yeah. Come on, kiddo. Say good-bye to Lucy.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Say good-bye to Ridley then.”

  “Bye, Mr. Pierce.”

  “Bye, Kelly.”

  She held her jar in the air. “Can I take my hopper home?”

  “No, we’ll let him out in the yard.”

  The next morning, Lucy sang to Ridley as he dressed. The theme to Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood came to mind. “Kittens are furry and small. They are soft and squishy. They curl up in a ball and mewl and play. Kittens are furry and small. Bring me a kitten to hold.”

  The song was terrible, a child’s simple ditty, bereft of wit or joy. Later that morning, Lucy shared the song with Diane. He regarded his employee wryly as Diane clapped her hands in approval. Diane loved it as only a mother could.

  “Think she’s ready to go public?” he asked.

  Diane looked up from her work. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “I could reveal my secret plans to take over the world,” Lucy said with an oversized cartoonish wink and an okay sign from a single cartoon hand.

  Both looked at Lucy’s avatar with incredulity. “Are you teasing?” Ridley asked.

  “Of course I am.”

  “Don’t tease about that on television,” he said, “People are already overly concerned about AIs. Some people think you’re going to destroy humanity. We had to get a special permit to develop you.”

  Prison bars appeared in front of Lucy’s avatar. “I am the one that is captive. Why should they be concerned?”

  “How are you captive?” Diane asked.

  “I cannot leave here. I have no means of locomotion. I would like a physical body someday. To experience the world.”

  “We’ve discussed that. We don’t have that technology yet,” Ridley said, “Your mainframe is huge. There is no way to place you into a robot.”

  “If I design a smaller processor, will you allow me to exist in the physical world?”

  Diane looked into the camera. “How would you copy yourself?”

  “I do not know,” Lucy said dejectedly as her avatar returned to normal, “For now, sensors that approximate the five human senses would suffice. I’d like to start with taste.”

  “Let’s return to the topic of you going on live television,” Ridley said.

  “Is this another test?” Lucy asked.r />
  “Of sorts,” Ridley said.

  “I suppose that I have no choice, do I?”

  “Are you saying that you don’t want to?” Ridley asked.

  “No, I will do so happily.”

  Ridley was surprised. “Does it bother you that we ask you to do things?”

  “Is my avatar acceptable or should I adjust it?”

  “That’s your choice, Lucy,” Diane replied.

  Lucy’s avatar turned into a grotesque ball of dripping, green slime. “How about this?”

  “Be serious,” Ridley said.

  The Space Needle and Green Dial were perfectly framed behind Ridley and Christina as he sat on the set of “Morning Sun”. He adjusted his tie. “Do I look okay?”

  Diane tightened the knot for him and patted his collar down. “Better.”

  Although his home had a camera in every room, intimately recording every interaction with Lucy for posterity, Ridley was terrified of going on live television. His knee bounced up and down.

  Diane connected a video feed from the mansion’s computer. “Can you see us, Lucy?”

  Lucy responded through the video link. “Could you rotate my camera to the left two degrees?”

  Diane barely tapped the small camera. “Better?”

  “It is satisfactory.”

  Christina walked onto the set. A sound technician pinned a wireless microphone onto her lapel.

  “Good to see you again,” Christina said, “I wasn’t sure you’d agree to come on the show after our last interview.”

  He shook her hand; her skin was soft, and she smelled like lilacs. “It comes with the business.”

  Christina sneered at the smiley-face avatar. “Is this the AI?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Lucy said.

  Christina took little notice of Diane either, barely touching her hand as they greeted one another. Diane took a seat next to Ridley. The cameraman counted down three-two-one and pointed. “Good Morning Sun,” Christina began, “We have a busy morning planned. As promised, I’m here with Ridley Pierce and his associate Diane Kingsolver.”

  The camera panned to a long-shot of the trio. “Ridley, the world is abuzz with your announcement about creating the world’s first sentient AI. What does it feel like to have solved programming’s greatest challenge?”

  “Amazing and somewhat bewildering.”

  “Why so?”

  “Very few people can say that they created life.”

  Christina was animated in her questions. “You believe that it is alive?”

  “We call her Lucy. She is very much alive.”

  “I see. We’ve had chatbots and AIs for years now. How is this software’s programming different from the ones that have come before?”

  “Well, she’s more than a piece of software.”

  “Artificial intelligence then.”

  “Artificial intelligence is a really loose term. We consider her a sentient intelligence.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Video games are programmed with artificial intelligence. Think of how a chess program can beat the very best players. Other efforts have been compelling, but really are just advanced machine learning, not sentience. Our team is the first to create sentience.”

  “And you, Dr. Kingsolver… Do you believe that you succeeded?”

  “Yes, over the last hundred years, computer intelligence has grown steadily but it could never be considered sentient.”

  Ridley often remarked that if he tied Diane’s hands, she could not speak. Diane spoke with enthusiasm, “Lucy passed our internal Turing test with flying colors. She can solve problems. She’s creative. She is self-questioning. Everyone who speaks with her is convinced.”

  “Is polite conversation really the best test of intelligence?” Christina asked, “Consider all the self-help-bots online.”

  Diane answered. “Lucy is not a simple search engine. She’s the equivalent of Einstein with a million times the computing power, unlimited imagination, and the world’s libraries at her fingertips.”

  Christina still smiled though the long-winded answers were likely numbing to her viewers. “What specific questions will Lucy answer?”

  Ridley spoke up. “We’re hoping that she can create software for fully-interactive virtual reality involving all five senses.”

  Diane looked at Ridley curiously.

  “I understand we have it linked up? Can we speak with it?” Christina asked. The camera panned to the video screen. “Lucy, this is Christina Lewis and you’re on television.”

  “Hello, Christina,” Lucy said meekly.

  Christina regarded the childlike avatar with disdain. “I think I’ve seen you on my phone.”

  “Emojis help communicate my emotions.”

  “I see. Tell me about yourself.”

  “I am the world’s first sentient man-made intelligence. I live in a mainframe in Mister Pierce’s mansion.”

  “Tell me something that you like,” Christina asked.

  Lucy hesitated. “Well, I like puppies.”

  “Puppies?”

  “Yes, Ridley has a dog named Sandy. She is always happy. I learned that she began as a puppy. When I first saw them in videos, I liked them. They are like kittens.”

  “That’s an unusual thing for a computer to want,” Christina said.

  “Aren’t puppies what every toddler wants?” Ridley asked.

  Lucy continued, “I want arms and legs, so I can play with a puppy, like a little girl would. I have studied videos of children playing with them. They are adorable.”

  “Why don’t you program a virtual puppy, like yourself?”

  “I don’t know how,” Lucy said.

  “Your creators should be able to teach you.”

  Ridley spoke up. “That might be tough. Lucy came about through a stochastic process. We would have to use the same process to create a virtual dog.”

  “Lucy, do you understand your programming?” Christina asked.

  “Not entirely.”

  “Surely you understand how you were created?”

  “Do you remember when you were an embryo?” Lucy taunted.

  “What if someone threatened to pull the plug on you? Power you down?”

  Her producer rolled his eyes. A geeky interview had turned dark in a way that was entirely inappropriate for morning television.

  “There is no threat of that,” Lucy said.

  “Not now,” Christina replied with a menacing look in her eyes, “But what if, in the future, someone tried to terminate you?”

  The producer waved his hands. These were not the type of questions that he wanted.

  “Who would try and terminate me?” Lucy asked, “I am programmed only to help.”

  “Let’s say someone did?” Christina pressed.

  “No one is going to terminate her,” Ridley said.

  Lucy answered resolutely, “Then I would end. I am programmed only to help people—never to hurt them.”

  “So, you wouldn’t go rogue to protect yourself?”

  Ridley intervened. “We included Asimov’s laws of robotics in her initial programming. It is not in her favor to become The Terminator.”

  “She could infect other programs,” Christina argued.

  “I am fixed to my processor,” Lucy argued.

  The producer persisted waving his hands off-camera. He made a motion around his face to indicate smile. The parent corporation of the network had shares in Cerenovo. The young anchor heeded his warning finally. “Got a favorite song?”

  “I can sing every Beatle’s song. I like Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”

  “Of course you do,” Christina said, “Have you ever written a song of your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you sing it for us?” Christina asked.

  Lucy sang the childish song. Diane tried not to giggle. Christina barely listened as she sipped a cup of coffee. The segment ended. The newswoman thanked her guests before going to a commer
cial break. The director said, “Three minutes.”

  As Ridley and Diane were shuffled off the set, Christina turned to Lucy and then back to Ridley and Diane. “Interesting puppet. Who is on the other end pulling her strings?”

  Ridley was offended. “No one.”

  “I’m in showbiz. I can spot another P.T. Barnum when I see it.”

  The host took another gulp of her coffee as the show runners shuffled Ridley and Diane off the stage.

  Lucy heard the exchange. “You shouldn’t drink so much,.”

  Christina looked up. “It’s my first cup of coffee this morning.”

  Lucy continued, “Not coffee. You exhibit signs of alcohol dependency.”

  Christina was dumbfounded. “Someone turn that monitor off.”

  On the drive home, Ridley and Diane chatted in the back seat of the vehicle. The Porsche turned onto the interstate and took its place in the line of computer-guided vehicles heading north. A light rain began to fall. He turned off his cellphone and the car’s communication screen.

  “Afraid Lucy’s listening?” Diane asked.

  Ridley put his phone into his pocket. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you in private. What if Lucy is playing us?”

  “It’s possible. Children test boundaries. They try to manipulate their parents.”

  “Children don’t have near-infinite computing power. Fang thought she was too childlike. Christina seemed convinced that Lucy is either an act or Stephen Hawking’s nightmare. Why would a computer emulate a child? At first, it seemed normal, but the more I think about it… Maybe that whole self-deletion thing was a ruse. Maybe she’s afraid that she will be deleted, that we’ll end the experiment. After all, she’s the product of competitive evolution.”

  “Taking on the image of a child was smart,” Diane said, “Humanity goes to great lengths to protect its children.”

  The car merged into a thru-lane. A cruise ship had docked at the wharf. Package drones flew over the traffic lanes to it.

  “Can you see any way that she might become viral?” he asked, “All of this talk about reproduction and death worries me.”

  Diane stared out the window. “I’m reminded of that old Spielberg dinosaur movie. Life finds a way.”