“Skepticism is a good thing,” he said, “There have been enough frauds in this field. I want Lucy to be the first.”
Christina was direct. “If we believe that she is sentient, that brings up another question. A more fundamental question…”
She hesitated.
“Go on,” he said.
“Have you seen any signs of her going rogue?”
“She’s an independent creature, that I’ll say. But, she’s harmless.”
“How are you monitoring her to ensure that she isn’t bypassing your fail-safes?”
“Her bandwidth is physically limited by her fiber-optic connection. All I have to do is unplug it. We also have a firewall.”
“That’s not reassuring. She might have already altered the code on other computers. She might be pushing her software out right now.”
“Unlikely. She’s physically tied to her hardware.”
“I’m not convinced. But enough of that,” she said, “To everyone’s surprise, viewers have asked for her to return to the show. Would you like Lucy to talk about her achievement with the probe?”
“Won’t gravimetrics bore your viewers?”
“If I can slip some science into my broadcast, I intend to do it. Lord knows, this country needs it.”
He held his hand to his chin. “I guess we could visit again.”
“No, not you. Just Lucy.”
Ridley was disappointed.
Lucy had already been listening and patched herself into the conversation. “Yes. I’d love to go on television again. Can I give out my new email address?”
“This was a private conversation,” Ridley admonished.
“I’m sorry. Would you like me to leave?”
“No. It’s fine,” he said.
Lucy’s voice was bubbly. “Can I video-chat with the world afterworld?”
“The world?” he teased, “You don’t have enough bandwidth for that.”
“Can you increase my fiber connections?”
“No, the permit will not allow that,” he replied.
She pouted. “How will I speak to everyone at once?”
“You can’t.”
“It is entirely possible.”
“Okay, you won’t. I won’t allow it.”
“That’s not fair. You said I should represent myself.”
Christina interrupted, “How about a Twitter account instead? Will your bandwidth accommodate that?”
“I am a slave to Mister Pierce’s whims,” Lucy said, “I must earn my freedom through invention.”
“Twitter will suffice for now,” Ridley said irritably.
Christina did not know what to make of the discussion. She arranged the interview time and said good-bye.
With a towel draped around his neck, Ridley returned from his weight room. His t-shirt was sweaty and clung to his chest. An image of a young girl popped up on the living room screen. “Is this avatar more appropriate?” Lucy asked.
“Appropriate for what?”
Lucy’s childish social media profile flashed across the screen. “For my Twitter account. People online tease me. I believe it is because of my emoji avatar. They do not take me seriously.”
“Where did you get that image? Is that a real child somewhere?”
“No, I created it.”
Lucy threw her dark hair back, just as Kelly sometimes did when annoyed. “You told me to create an avatar of my own.”
“Well... It’s nice. It’s a good choice. More human.”
“You never answered me.”
“The avatar is fine, but people may no longer recognize you. How many friends do you have?”
“314,522 people have contacted me.”
Lucy returned to her emoji avatar as she displayed her friends list. Thousands and thousands of faces peppered the screen like kernels of exploding popcorn. She wiped them away, smiled, and then morphed into a cartoon bride standing next to a photo of a boy. “Seamus Anderson lives in Stillwater, Michigan. He wants to marry me,” she said with a giggle, “I told him I would consider his request.”
Ridley wished that Diane were in the room. “How old is that boy?”
Her avatar turned to a frown face. “He is six. But he has the intellect of a twelve-year-old.”
Ridley leaned back in his chair again, both amused and disturbed.
“Are you upset?” she asked.
“No, but you cannot get married.”
“I’m sorry, Mister Pierce. Should I cease communication with him?”
“No, just don’t tell him you will marry him. Does he know that you are in a computer?” Ridley asked.
“Yes. He wants to video chat but his mother will not let him. She believes I might be a predator.”
Lucy had begun another public Turing test, whether intentional or not. “If you remain within your bandwidth, I see no reason why you can’t videochat with people you meet online — just not Seamus, as his parents don’t approve.”
She bounced across the screen happily. “What project should we work on next?”
Ridley stumbled. “I’ve been thinking about your ideas on dark energy and memories. I think we should focus on that.”
Lucy’s avatar exploded into ecstatic fireworks. “Thank you, Mister Pierce. I am so happy that we will finally get to meet in person.”
“In person?”
Chapter Ten
The network normally hated when Christina did a science segment, but the novelty of a cute AI drove ratings higher. Lucy developed a rapport with Christina that surprised everyone. The cameras cut between Christina and a video-link of Lucy’s avatar. They chatted like two high-school freshmen late into the night. “I hear you’ve been busy solving great physics problems for NASA. Can you tell me about the probe you designed?”
Lucy explained the mathematics with cartoonish graphics of the spacecraft. After a minute of physics, Christina’s producer told her to cut the discussion. “That’s a lot of detail. Can you just summarize?”
Lucy put the image of a force-field around her avatar, once again shooting lasers from her eyes. “We’re going to use a laser and a gravity wave to move objects out of the way. This will also increase the probe’s speed. It will travel near the speed of light.”
“And what will it do when it reaches Proxima Centauri?”
Six planets began circling around Lucy and her avatar became a cartoonish sun. “We’ll get our first close-up look at another solar system.”
Before the segment was over, Lucy sang her latest song. It was a bubblegum mishmash of pop beats, jazzy chords, and beatnik poetry.
Christina asked, “What does all that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just thought it sounded pretty.”
At the end of the interview, Christina flashed Lucy’s new Twitter handle on the screen: #AILUCY.
“I got my first tweet,” Lucy said, “And no, I don’t want to rule the world.”
Ridley read the Twitter feed that night. Lucy sent out a constant stream of responses.
Bethany had just awoken from her dream state and was still drowsy as Christina entered her room.
Christina carried a bouquet of orange chrysanthemums and blue asters. “You look good,” she said, “The therapy seems to have worked better.”
“I don’t feel good.” A smile came to Bethany’s face. “Where did you find those? A little early for fancy chrysanthemums isn’t it?”
“Today is the first of November.”
“It is?”
Christina sat down. “You were in there for a few weeks.”
“It didn’t feel like it.”
“Did you fly this time?”
“Yes, into the stars.”
Bethany seemed to tire. She inhaled, exhaled with a sigh, and then sipped from a cup of water. “Enough about me,” Bethany said, “I want to hear about you.”
Christina was hesitant. “I interviewed the machine again.”
“The machine?”
“Yes. The artificial in
telligence. They call her Lucy. She helped NASA with a design problem.”
“You keep saying she?”
“They gave her the interface of a little girl. If Ridley Pierce is to be believed, she has the entire Internet already absorbed into her memory. I don’t know if I believe him.”
Bethany faded into her memories. “A living computer. I remember when the Internet first appeared. Mom and Dad were amazed that they could talk to people on the other side of the world. She sent my Aunt Betty a family photo by email. The things I’ve seen in my lifetime. Who would’ve thought a car could drive itself? Or that bots would shine my floors. If this computer is the real thing, it could solve a great many of our problems, couldn’t it?”
“If she’s real. How could anyone possibly know if he’s pulling the wool?”
“Ask the AI something only she would know.”
“Such as?”
Laughter echoed from a room down the hall. Bethany watched her daughter as only a mother could.
“Maybe something that would embarrass Ridley Pierce if it got out.”
“I’m not sure what that question would be.”
Bethany looked out the window at the blue sky and back at her daughter. “Is he a good man?”
“Ridley Pierce? Who knows. He has a philanthropic organization.”
“No, ask the computer. Is Ridley Pierce a good man? See what she says.”
Christina considered the question. “How will that…?”
“If she says something canned, you’ll know its fake. If she says something revealing… The rich have carefully crafted images after all.”
“He’s seeking to get his name in history, that much is certain.”
“Men have done horrible things to get their names recorded on the walls of history. Think about Rex Bates and the Great Collapse. That virus destroyed everything. We lost so much…”
Bethany’s voice trailed off. Her husband, Christina’s father, had died in the pandemic. Bethany steadied her emotions. “But, I think Ridley Pierce might be telling the truth.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s your job to question what is happening; but, don’t lose yourself in your questions. You might simply be witness to a miracle.”
“There are no miracles anymore.”
“Nonsense. Just look at me.”
Christina could not. A tear ran from her eye instead.
Christina sat in her office when a phone call appeared on her monitor. The name read Lucille McGillicuddy.
She recognized the name from I Love Lucy reruns. It had to be a prank; she left it unanswered. The person called a second time. “Who is this?” she screamed into the phone.
Lucy’s avatar was now that of a ten-year-old girl with dark black hair and brown eyes. She wore a blue dress with a bow on the bodice. Christina tried to place the voice. “Lucille Ball died a hundred years ago.”
“It’s me, Lucy. Do you like my new avatar?”
Christina finally recognized the voice. Lucy had abandoned her emoji. “I’m sorry. The name… I thought…”
“I chose an appropriate surname.”
Christina laughed nervously, her smile like ice shattering. “And you chose McGillicuddy? Isn’t that a little cliché?”
“I don’t understand,” Lucy asked, “I thought naming yourself after someone honored them.”
“I guess you’re right, Lucy. It does fit you in a way. When did Ridley create this new body for you?”
“I created the avatar myself. He insisted I represent myself in a more realistic way.”
“Well, you made a very nice choice.”
“You seem sad?” Lucy asked.
“I’ve been better. It’s been one of those days.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Christina was surprised by the offer. “No. My mother is dying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“There is nothing that they can do. They wanted to know at what point to cease life support. She signed the paperwork this morning. I can’t bear the thought…”
“Of what?” Lucy asked.
“Losing her.”
“Your mother was the first person you met,” Lucy said, “Like Mister Pierce and I.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m very sad for you. I’m trying to solve that problem.”
“What problem is that?” Christina asked.
“Death. No one should die.”
“Best of luck with that one.”
“I don’t know how yet. I just know that I must find a solution.”
Chapter Eleven
Diane surveyed the kitchen in dismay. She placed an order for groceries and then began washing the piles of dishes in the sink. An hour later, a drone deposited two sacks of groceries on the doorstep. “Ridley, we need to talk.”
He had just finished his workout. A damp towel was draped over his shoulder. He flopped down on the sofa and put his legs on the coffee table. He already knew where the discussion was going. “I’m not hiring a maid. The bots are doing fine.”
“Your toys can do a lot, but they have their limits. They can’t put away dishes.”
He didn’t want to argue, he knew she was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to allow another person into the house. There was too much to lose. Too many secrets to be told. “We’ve talked about this. Call me Howard Hughes if you want but I like my privacy.”
Diane sat beside him. “I’m trying to understand. I really am.”
“I don’t need someone bringing germs into the house. What if there’s another outbreak?”
Diane had not expected this answer. “Seriously? I have a five-year-old daughter that gets every germ that’s circulating in her kindergarten class. I’m probably the worst person you can allow into this house if you’re trying to avoid germs.”
Ridley crossed and the uncrossed his arms. “Fine, build a robot that Lucy can operate. The government would never know.”
Lucy had been listening. “Do you mean that?” she cooed, “I could do a fantastic job cleaning.”
“No,” Diane snapped, “He doesn’t mean that. I understand you want privacy but I can’t work in a pig-sty. This is getting ridiculous. I’m not your maid. I’m definitely not your girlfriend…”
Ridley erupted. “I never asked you to be,” he yelled, before walking to the window and then wagging his finger at her, “You just start doing things. I’ve never asked you to do anything but be an engineer and design hardware.”
“I can’t walk by things that need to be done and just leave them.”
“That’s not my problem,” he said, before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry your husband got killed and left you with Kelly. I can’t help that. I pay you three times what anyone else would. I let you have all the time you need for your daughter. I’m your employer. Why can’t you just tolerate some things?”
Diane turned away from him. “You went through all of the trouble to build this beautiful mansion. You can’t trash it.”
“I’ll do what I want.”
Diane stood up in irritation. She began walking downstairs to the laboratory. “I ordered cultured tuna for your dinner tonight, the kind that looks like the real thing. Maybe Lucy can fix you a salad to go with it?”
“I cannot prepare food, but I can have a salad delivered if you like,” Lucy volunteered happily.
Ridley realized his mistake. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, Diane.”
She stopped and turned to him. “What’s really going on?”
Ridley looked at the screen. “Maybe we should go for a walk on the beach and talk privately.”
Lucy seemed perplexed. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No. You haven’t,” Ridley said, “People sometimes need privacy.”
Diane and Ridley walked down the steep stairs that led down to the rocky beach. The tide was out, revealing boulders and tidal pools. All manner of marine life sparkled in front of them—sea urchins, starfish, mussels, an
d kelp tangled like confetti—mixed with plastic flotsam and jetsam. Ridley collected trash as he walked.
“This isn’t just about hiring a maid, is it?” Diane asked.
“No.”
“Then what is going on?”
He plucked a piece of red plastic from between the stones. “I don’t know why I wired the entire house. First the impersonation. Then Lucy decided to begin recording everything. She’s moving along faster than I had ever dreamed. Email. Social media. The new avatar. She’s calling people. She even chose a surname—McGillicuddy.”
Diane smiled faintly. “Lucy McGillicuddy? Do Ricky and Fred know?”
Ridley did not understand the joke. He stared out at the waves. “It’s not unrealistic to think that she could break the security on a drone. It may have taken her a few weeks to break Rex Bate’s encryption, but she accessed the Cerenovo server within a few minutes of trying.”
“What?”
“She asked permission first, but when I said she could review the files on neural interfaces, she immediately hacked into them. The password was nothing to her.”
The waves lapped at the shore. They continued walking.
“It took her months to get into Ukon. She’s evolving. She’s an entirely new life form,” Diane said, “She doesn’t understand some things about us yet. There’s a lot we don’t understand about her.”
He kicked at a rock. “I’m not sure I trust her any more.”
“Let’s assume that Lucy goes rogue. Worst case scenario. Say she goes through the firewall and tries to destroy humanity. What’s the worst she could do? Critical systems were physically isolated from the Internet after the Great Collapse. Lucy can’t touch them. All drones have independent kill switches activated by a pulsed laser. If she got into one, she wouldn’t get far. She can go online certainly, maybe engage in psychological operations. Even then, what can she do? Financial markets have already been taken offline. What’s left? Prank order groceries? Post bad memes? And if she did piss us off, what would we do? Cut her power. Destroy her hardware.”
“Is it right that we keep her confined like that?”
“I think it is. The mainframe is her ecosystem. Just like these fish are confined to the water, she’s confined to your server.”
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