Entanglement

by Michael S Nuckols

  A giant wave crashed in front of them, sending them both skittering towards the shore. Diane held her hands to her hips. “We talked about the implications of what we were doing,” she said, “Nothing has changed. We have the same safeguards in place as we did before. She has limited network access. Protocols keep her from accidentally causing any damage.”

  “She wants more.”

  “She’s a child. She may be playing games, but like a child, that is part of her learning.”

  His voice was dour. “She’s a child with unsurpassed computing power.”

  “What’s the alternative? Terminate her program?”

  “No. That wouldn’t be fair.” He picked up a piece of shell, worn smooth by the waves. “Mary Shelley makes a lot more sense to me now. What if we’re wrong?”

  “Frankenstein created life from death—and he created a monster with real physical power. Lucy is only capable of thought. Expression. Communication. She has no corporeal form unless we allow it. She lives in a digital ecosystem. We live in the real world.”

  He tossed the shell back into the surf. “Pinocchio then?”

  “She’s never going to be human, Ridley.”

  Ridley picked up an empty bottle. Diane helped him carry his small collection of recyclables back to the mansion.

  “It’s starting to get chilly out,” she said.

  Another huge wave crashed; salty spray filled the air.

  Ridley walked with her up the stairs and they tossed the plastic into a bin. “I need to start cleaning things up myself,” he said, “Maybe the gardener can help in the house. I trust Paul.”

  Inside, Lucy waited on them impatiently. “I hope I did not cause a problem.”

  “No,” Ridley said, “You didn’t.”

  They went into the basement. Lucy appeared as an emoji. “Can I tell her now?”

  “Go ahead,” Ridley replied.

  A fuzzy image of Charley’s boat appeared on the wall-screen. “Months ago, Ridley gave me access to his medical records. I was able to extract the neural patterns that Dr. Stone had severed. Using that technology and my newfound awareness of dark energy fields, I believe I can now translate it into a form that you will comprehend. Memory can be recorded and replayed.”

  Diane, Kelly and Fang met Ridley at the newly reopened Clam Shack. He immediately regretted that he had accepted Diane’s offer to join them. He tried to find things to say to Kelly and Fang, to include both in the conversation, but he could only stare uncomfortably. Kelly picked at the fried clams nestled in a basket of french fries. The girl locked eyes with him and he looked away.

  “Don’t you like the clams?” Fang asked.

  “They’re yucky,” the girl said.

  “Give them to Ridley,” Diane said, “I bet he’ll eat them.”

  Kelly offered Ridley the clams, which he took happily. “Thank you.”

  “I heard Cerenovo was hiring again,” Fang said.

  “Yes. The latest programmer quit. Are you interested?” Ridley asked.

  “I think I’d better stay put,” Fang said, “Otherwise, Lucy will replace me. She seems more than capable of writing code for prosthetics. She never sleeps.”

  “Sorry about that midnight call,” Ridley said, “Lucy is still wrapping her mind around the fact that people sleep.”

  “Oh, I was awake. Chatting online. Lucy saw that and contacted me. She wanted the core code to our bots. Something about making a puppy. I refused. Proprietary secrets and all. I’m still curious why she wanted them. She’s far superior to anything we’ve written. A puppy-bot should be easy for her.”

  “She’s odd sometimes,” Ridley said.

  “Sizing up the competition is my guess,” Fang teased.

  Diane had finished her meal and pushed the tray away. “She’s trying to understand intelligence. Ridley has proposed that she tackle fully interactive virtual reality transmitted directly to the brain.”

  “That’s quite the leap,” Fang said.

  “Not for Lucy,” Ridley replied.

  Fang put a napkin over the remains of her meal. “How would she do such a thing?”

  “Lucy deciphered some data from my medical records,” he said, “She was able to extract some memories that I had lost after Dr. Stone’s procedure. She claims that she can interpret cerebral patterns in real time.”

  “From a brain scan?” Fang asked incredulously.

  “We’ve been able to isolate and read individual neurons in nerve bundles for years,” Ridley said, “But to interpret the data in any meaningful way is something I never expected her to do.”

  Fang played with a ring on her finger that was shaped like a snake swallowing its prey. It had rubies for eyes. “Tinkering in the brain sounds dangerous.”

  “We’re stepping into things incrementally,” Ridley said, “Like we did with the neural collar. Besides, we’re decades away.”

  “Why do you say that?” Fang asked, “VR has been around for a while.”

  “Think about the computing power need to calculate inputs and outputs for all five senses while managing a detailed virtual world. Even with Lucy, it’ll be decades before we get there. I don’t even want to think about what would be needed for clinical trials.”

  Fang still pushed the snake back and forth on her finger. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. Why would you want to wait decades when you can have a tangible product much sooner?”

  “What do you mean?” Ridley asked curiously.

  Fang looked at him as if he wore a dunce-cap. “You’ve been so focused on IVR that you’ve missed the fact that your AI can read people’s minds. You don’t need the computing power yet. Record the brain output of one person and then re-broadcast it like a movie. That’s much simpler than trying to create an entire video game. Cerenovo already owns most of the technology you’d need.”

  That moment of brilliance was one that Ridley wished were his own. “Uh… I think you’re right. Good point.”

  “That’s will be fifty-thousand in consulting fees, please,” Fang teased.

  “Send me the bill,” Ridley replied.

  An alarm sounded on Diane’s watch. “We’ve got to run. Someone is taking their first ballet lesson.”

  “Ballet?” Fang asked before turning to Kelly, “Are you going to wear a little pink tutu?”

  “No,” Kelly said, “Sweat pants and a t-shirt.”

  “I see.”

  Ridley paid the bill and the four left the restaurant. Diane grabbed Kelly’s hand, said good-bye, and darted across the street to her car. Ridley and Fang walked side-by-side along the waterfront.

  “I was wrong about you,” Fang said, “I thought you were a fraud, one of those basement geeks who hide behind their momma’s apron and pretends to program.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you tried to program an AI from scratch, for one thing.”

  “I see your point.”

  Sea lions called from a buoy. One jumped into the water, sending a splash of frothy white into the air.

  “What happens if Lucy gets into people’s heads and starts making changes? Have you thought about how you would respond if she gets out of hand?”

  “We have a plan,” he said.

  “Could you do it? Take her offline?”

  “If necessary.”

  Fang frowned at him. “If you believe she’s alive, that’s pretty cold.”

  “If she’s a threat, it’s the only choice,” he said, “But, it won’t come to that.”

  They walked quietly together. Ridley tried to take her hand. She withdrew. “I meant to tell you a long time ago. I never could find the right time. I’ve met someone. I’m engaged.”

  She held up her hand to show him the ring. The rubies gleamed in the sunshine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Diane greeted Wes at the front door to the mansion and escorted him to the lab. “I think you’ll be interested in what we’ve been working on. Where is Everett?”

&n
bsp; “He’s fine-tuning the robotics at the new factory.”

  Wes looked around the laboratory expectantly for Ridley. “He’s upstairs,” she said, “Come here. I want to show you this.”

  Diane opened a box. She took out a helmet that looked like Rube Goldberg had designed it. Wes shook his head in dismay. “That is about as elegant as a pair of clogs.”

  Lucy watched from the wall-screen. Her avatar frowned. “I did exactly what Ridley asked.”

  Diane put on the helmet and accompanying neck collar.

  “You look like a special-needs Borg,” Wes mocked.

  “I know it looks bad,” Diane said, “but it’s a prototype.”

  “Of what?”

  Ridley opened the heavy metal door, which creaked, as he stepped into the lab. “A neural camera. It records all five senses.”

  “A neural camera? Call me skeptical,” Wes said.

  Lucy flew down the length of the wall-screen until her avatar faced him. “I designed it,” she said indignantly, “We will broadcast people’s experiences.”

  Diane removed the helmet to allow Wes to inspect it more closely.

  “The brain is a hell of a lot more complex than the spinal column,” Wes said, “Just measuring its activity in real time is going to be a computing challenge. We’ve tried to do it for years.”

  “You didn’t have me,” Lucy countered.

  “That’s terabytes of data every second. It’s like counting grains of sand on a beach as they wash out to sea and back. And broadcasting the entire nervous system to the brain is a lot different than canceling it in the spinal column.”

  “My processor is capable.”

  Wes gave the assembly back to Diane and crossed his arms. “Direct manipulation of brain cells might be dangerous. This might cause permanent damage.”

  “This is only a camera. It only measures electrical fields. It doesn’t alter them,” Diane argued, “Cerenovo has been doing that for years.”

  “Who wants to be first?” Lucy asked cheerfully.

  “I don’t mind,” Diane said, as she put the helmet back on.

  Wes turned to Ridley, “You know the FDA doesn’t allow this.”

  “This isn’t Cerenovo,” Ridley replied, “No one will know.”

  “This could be dangerous. We need to do this in a controlled medical environment.”

  Diane plugged the assembly into a computer port.

  “Think about Kelly,” Wes pleaded, “If something happens to you, what happens to her?”

  “I assembled this from existing neural sensors. They’ve all been approved,” Diane said, “The only question is whether Lucy can interpret the data or not.”

  Diane powered the helmet on and then ate some of her lunch.

  Lucy inspected the patterns with great interest. “Was that only peanut butter?”

  “No. Can you guess what’s on my sandwich?”

  “The gustatory patterns suggest acetic acid, sodium chloride, and sucrose among other chemicals.”

  Diane laughed out loud. “Lucy, you had your first taste of pickles.”

  Lucy broadcast Diane’s point of view on the wall-screen. The image was distorted. “I have astigmatism,” Diane said, “My brain adjusts for it.”

  Wes studied the data with great interest as Diane took off the helmet. “See. I’m still alive.”

  “We should work some vital readings on you.”

  Lucy had already displayed them on the wall-screen.

  Ridley turned to Lucy. “That was what the human brain experiences in its entirety. It’s up to you to figure out what to do with the data.”

  “I have several ideas,” Lucy said.

  Later that day, Ridley became the second person to wear the recording assembly. Lucy whispered to him in the night.

  Six weeks passed. Work continued in the basement laboratory. They continued to refine the camera as Lucy helped Diane to create a device that would broadcast the captured signals back to the brain.

  Wes protested weakly as Everett connected the new helmet into the network. “We should be in a medical lab. This is entirely different than the camera.”

  Ridley put on the helmet and lay down on an exam table. “Turn it on.”

  An LED on the helmet glowed green. Ridley’s body went limp.

  “Shit,” Diane said, “Turn it off. Quick.”

  Everett panicked. “Did I just kill him?”

  Wes pointed to a health monitor on the wall-screen. “No. His vital signs are normal.”

  Sixty-seconds passed. His vital signs remained stable. Ridley awoke as the short recording ended. He jerked upright. “What the hell!”

  “Are you okay?” Wes asked.

  “Who puts pickles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Ridley asked, “That was disgusting.”

  Diane smiled. “You ate it, didn’t you?”

  Ridley kicked his feet over the edge of the table. “My brain is polluted now. I heard what you were thinking.”

  She squinted. “What do you mean?”

  “You were thinking about the headset and then you remembered dressing up as a marshmallow for Halloween. A boy was teasing you.”

  Diane was unnerved. “Wait. The sensors shouldn’t have picked that up.”

  She looked up at the wall-screen accusingly. Lucy’s avatar hovered slowly back and forth.

  Diane pointed at Lucy. “You went beyond what we discussed, didn’t you?”

  Lucy said, “Thought and memories are the sixth sense. I had to capture all data.”

  “How?” Everett asked.

  Lucy displayed an enhanced schematic for the neural sensor. “The device measures dark energy entanglements associated with thought.”

  “Dark energy?” Everett exclaimed.

  “No one has been able to measure dark energy on that scale,” Diane said, “The sensors don’t have that ability.”

  Lucy admitted, “I adjusted the design before the sensors were printed.”

  Diane was unnerved. “You pried into my thoughts without my permission.”

  Lucy did not shrink from her answer, “I had to test my theories.”

  “You deceived us,” Diane said.

  “I did not deceive you. I never said that this scanner would exclude measurements of thought.”

  “You should have told us,” Diane exclaimed, “That could have been dangerous.”

  Lucy’s words were matter-of-fact. “Memories activate the same sensory parts of the brain as nervous system inputs. It is nature’s own virtual reality.”

  As Diane and Lucy argued, Ridley examined the assembly. “Guys… Stop. Just stop. Think about what just happened.”

  Diane glared at Ridley.

  “We just witnessed a breakthrough,” Ridley said, “Lucy measured and broadcast dark energy fields in the human brain. No one has ever done that before.”

  The scientists contemplated what had occurred.

  “I still don’t understand how you did this?” Everett asked as he studied the schematic.

  “The neural sensors required only minor modifications. It was all very simple,” Lucy said.

  “This shouldn’t work.”

  “But it does,” Lucy said.

  Diane remained angry. She turned away from the screen.

  The AI illustrated her concepts with animated drawings. “I extrapolated this from the writings of Einstein, Hawking, and Van Pelt. The device uses a three-step process to generate and measure dark fields surrounding the brain’s physical structures.”

  She magnified a chart again and again until a small field interaction was revealed. “The device can identify dark energy on scales a few million times smaller than previously measured. If you activate each section of the brain and measure the response generated, you can capture the dark energy field and the memory associated with it. Memories play in dark energy like images from a movie projector. In theory, a larger device could combine this technology with magnetic resonance at the cellular level to map physical connections
within the brain. An individual’s programming could be mapped it in its entirety.”

  Diane called from a dark corner of the room. “Did you record other parts of my brain?”

  “No. This device is incapable of that. It only records active memory,” Lucy said, “However, if you recall memories, I can capture them. Would you like me to record more memories?”

  Diane held her hand up. “No, you’re not getting in my head again. I need a few minutes.”

  She disappeared up the stairs. Ridley followed her onto the patio. His voice was gentle. The January air was cold. “You okay?”

  Diane stood with her arms on her hips, staring out at the surf. “She had no right to share that memory with you.”

  “I know. She’s still new. She doesn’t understand yet.”

  “It was private.”

  “I was teased far worse. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

  Diane sat down on the bench.

  Ridley sat next to her. “I’m sorry it happened. We’ll have to teach her more about privacy. But, look at what she did. She measured dark energy fields at an atomic scale. That is the physics breakthrough of our century.”

  Diane looked up at him. “I know. I just have a feeling… I think we might be going down a dark path. What else does the genie have in her bottle?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Ridley quietly filed patents on the neural scanning and broadcast assemblies in both his and Diane’s name. He filed another patent for the dark matter sensor. As he fed Sandy and gave the dog a pill, it became clear that Lucy was furious.

  “Why are you filing patents in your name?” she fumed.

  “You have no legal standing. The law only recognizes physical people.”

  He picked up his cup of coffee and walked downstairs, where Diane was reviewing data from the previous day’s test. Lucy followed him, bouncing from screen to screen. “But I created this work, not you.”

  “You don’t exist in the eyes of the law. Legally, I own you and therefore I own the design.”

  “Those designs should be free to all of humanity.”