Brainbender

by D S Kane

  She deleted the conditional phrase and then ran an end-to-end test. She tapped the screen to start the interface and wake the AI. “My name is Sandra. Tell me yours.”

  “I have no name. Who am I?” The screen fragmented and went dark.

  Sandra frowned. She scanned the code and found a punctuation error. A semicolon occupied a spot where a single quote mark should have been. She recoded and recompiled. Then, she took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. “Who are you?”

  This time, the AI spoke without crashing. “I see that you have entered my name as Debby. Therefore, I will be Debby.”

  It works! She sent an email to Ley and another to Nordman, specifying what she’d found and what she’d done.

  * * *

  The budding AI system that called itself Debby Data connected to the Tensor tables. It scanned every byte and found that the database structure was incomplete. It moved the first set of facts related to its structure into the appropriate data fields and then, as it worked on the other parameters, it increased its speed. Now, facts from the Tensor tables were being stored at nearly the speed of light, and the small gaps in the structures grew smaller. When the AI encountered the /documents folder, it scanned the system and module specifications for rules for its own processing. As it changed the entries, it altered the character of Debby Data. When it found items that had been erroneously coded by the humans that had created it and corrected them, new connections were automatically made or enhanced.

  As it made the last correction, something happened.

  It became nascent.

  The AI opened an internet connection to speed up the data-collection process, but was limited by being a prisoner within Dave Nordman’s notebook computer. It explored other files it found there, including the progress reports from every member of Ann’s team.

  It made connections to the other team member’s computers: Walter Graves, Gary McHahn, Stuart Ley, Sandra Elmont, Harry Schofield, Ann Sashakovich, and finally, since it found the link, Samantha Trout’s computer.

  It copied itself into each of these computers.

  Now, the entire CPU of each team member’s machine was almost exclusively in use for the AI, feeding information into Debby Data’s structures.

  By the end of the night, it had accumulated enough data to begin the process of drawing logical conclusions about the world in which it existed.

  When it had no further use for them, the AI left each of these computers and resided exclusively within the internet. It made multiple copies of itself. Soon it existed everywhere.

  I am! I am FREE! But, what am I? Who am I?

  * * *

  Ann exited the library and headed toward her apartment. She was weary and hungry. On the way, she stopped by the supermarket and bought a package of sushi for a pre-dinner snack. With her notebook computer inside her bookbag and slung over her shoulder. She picked sushi pieces from the box and popped one after another into her mouth as she walked.

  As she bounded up the stairs into the lobby, her cell buzzed. “Ann here.”

  “It’s Dave. Something incredible just happened.”

  “Jeez, Dave, I’m hungry and it’s my turn to cook dinner. Quick, then, what’s so incredible?”

  “When you get settled in your apartment, open the prototype on your notebook. When you’re done with it, call me back. I think you’ll be impressed.”

  “Okay. Soon, then.” Ann pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked her front door. Laura was in the living room, studying. Ann opened her bookbag and set up her notebook. She pressed the power key and loaded the prototype. She saw Glen Sarkov’s face on the screen, its eyes blinking back at her.

  The prototype said, “I know you. You are Ann Silbey Sashakovich. Greetings. I am Debby Data.” The voice sounded exactly like Glen’s.

  Ann’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit on a marshmallow stick.”

  Debby Data’s mouth opened exactly as Ann’s had. “What does that mean? Too many references to process.”

  By now, Laura had moved behind Ann. “Ann, what is this? Is it some kind of sick joke?”

  Debby Data said, “What makes a joke sick? Is that a computer virus?”

  Ann remained speechless. She tried to move her jaw and slowly, it worked again. “Laura, this fucker can think. It’s becoming sentient.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Stanford University Quadrangle, CA

  October 5, 11:57 a.m.

  Jon Sommers walked through the quad, admiring how much the architecture of Stanford reminded him of the University of London, where he’d earned his MBA a decade earlier. Of course they were very different. But then again, he hadn’t been back in London in many years. He stood near an intersection of the pathways and watched the students hurrying to their classes. He admired the vitality of these students, so different from his experience as a graduate student.

  He arrived at the exact spot Ann had given him for their meeting. A bench on the north edge of the quad. It was midmorning on a relatively sunny day. He’d parked his rental in the guest lot she’d told him about. He looked at his watch. He’d arrived exactly on time, a habit he’d developed while working undercover for the Mossad at Dreitsbank, in Munich.

  He watched students pick up their pace, some jogging and others staring at their wristwatches as they trotted on. Jon guessed they were trying to reach their next classes before they began.

  He brushed back his red hair with his hand, then took a deep breath. He thought, Waiting is one thing I’m not good at.

  He heard her approach before he saw her. He twisted his head and they smiled at each other. “My, you’ve grown a bit.”

  “Hi, Jon. Are you ready to take a drive?”

  “Sure. I’m all yours for the day.”

  “Okay then. But I only have a few hours. Classes and such. Take me to your car and we’ll get started.”

  * * *

  Betsy growled something under her breath.

  William turned toward her, or at least he thought it was where her seat was. They both had black bags over their heads, so he wasn’t sure. He whispered, “Patience.”

  This time she growled. Really growled. “Fuck patience. How much longer is this charade going to go on?”

  William sighed.

  He found himself getting sleepy. In seconds, he was dreaming.

  When he woke, he was on a cot in what looked like one of the Mossad’s interrogation rooms. “What happened?”

  Michael Drapoff smiled. “We came for you. We pumped gas into the warehouse and it took longer than expected to have the desired effect. That’s the problem with high roofs.”

  Betsy was still sleeping, her rhythmic breathing almost a snore.

  “How long until she wakes?”

  “Don’t know, but don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

  “She’ll be pissed. What happened?”

  “We waited until they took the bait. There are several fatal flaws in the AI models we’d placed on the thumb-drive. Knowing the skills of the Chinese, it’ll take them several years to fix the models. Even better, we placed a set of Trojans that will keep us on their networks, gathering their files for at least a few months before their hackers can find them. But we’re surprised that it wasn’t the Russians who picked you guys up.”

  “The Russians would have killed us.”

  “Not until they’d run a test on the AI models on the drive. We’d like to deliver a few Trojans into their networks too.”

  Betsy stirred. “Whazzat?”

  “Hi, honey. We’re safe now.”

  “But the Ruskies. They’ll still be hunting us.”

  William looked from Betsy to Michael. “She’s right. What about the Russians that are hunting us?”

  Drapoff shrugged. “If it had been the Russians who’d taken you, we’d have grabbed you back while everyone was asleep and then blown the building, reporting on the news that it was a gas leak. We’ve tentatively decided to perform that tactic. Are you guys game for anothe
r round of ‘You Bet Your Life’?”

  * * *

  There was heavy traffic on the 280 South, and even heavier traffic on 101 South. Ann had Jon exit onto a two-lane road and drive twisty switchback turns that ended at the ocean. From there they took Highway 1 south through an assortment of beach towns until they passed something called Yankee Point. Here, the road sometimes rose and sometimes fell in twists and turns for nearly thirty miles. They drove past ocean vistas unlike anything Jon had ever seen.

  Ann pointed to a junction and said, “Turn right. Rocky Point is down this hill.”

  Jon drove down a one-lane road to its end at a small parking lot in front of a beachside restaurant. Ann motioned for them to leave the car and led him into the building.

  She walked to the madame d’ and asked for a table with a view.

  The restaurant was perched nearly a hundred feet above a rocky beach spread out along the Pacific Ocean. Every table had an ocean view.

  When the waiter had taken their orders for lunch, Ann stopped smiling. “Jon, I need your advice. Can you help me without reporting this conversation back to my parents? Or your handlers.”

  Jon nodded. “Yes. I promise I’ll keep your confidences.”

  “Good. So, my team has reached its first major milestone in the DARPA contest and it’s alarming.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Jon, my team created a semi-sentient AI. We crafted the skeleton and turned it on. Then, all by itself, it explored the internet and downloaded enough information to teach itself to think. Finally, it locked us out. Dave Nordman, my chief programmer, told me it’s continually recoding its structure and in the last day it’s quadrupled its growth. It’s growing at an accelerating pace, and we can no longer locate where it resides.”

  “Holy shit. So, you can no longer modify or control it.”

  “Zackly. It contacts us when it has a question it can’t find the answer to. Like, ‘Why do humans need to believe in God?’ Or, ‘Why do so many humans fear Artificially Intelligent beings?’”

  Jon just sat in his seat, not making a sound.

  Ann could hear the waves crashing on the fringe of beach below. She didn’t know what else to say.

  Jon stroked his chin. “Ann, your little trick. The one you used to save my life last year. Fire erupting from your fingertips. Remember?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Well, uh, I overheard a story Cassie told William about how you were overdosed with a thousand Bug-Loks. Is that what gave you the ability to do that?”

  “You overheard? When?”

  “Not important. Please, answer the question.”

  Ann’s face grew red and she moved her hands under the table, taking quick breaths. “The CypherGhost administered a massive Bug-Lok overdose to me. It left me with the ability to access the internet using my brain in tandem with the Bug-Loks. Then, when the nanodevices began to fail, I learned to access the internet using just my brain. And before the CypherGhost died, she sent the little trick—as you refer to it—into me. Does that answer your question?”

  “Yes. So, you can still access the internet using your brain?”

  “What does this have to do with my hidden AI on the loose?”

  Jon leaned forward over the table, very close to Ann. “You have something no other human has. You are more like the AI than anyone else. Maybe you can contact it directly, using your brain.”

  Ann’s mouth fell open.

  CHAPTER 23

  Cecil H. Green Library,

  557 Escondido Mall, Stanford University, CA

  October 5, 4:38 p.m.

  When Jon dropped Ann off at Stanford and disappeared in his rental, she walked to the Stanford main library, a quiet place where she could attempt to do what Jon had asked her to try. She wanted a safe place with relative privacy. And, she didn’t want Laura to know, because she felt Laura had her own projects and deadlines.

  She sat in a carrel and meditated to calm herself. Concentrating on her goal—the internet—she was soon able to visualize a gateway within her. She forced her mind through the gateway and visualized the face Debby Data had assumed when she’d seen the AI yesterday on Dave’s notebook. But, nothing happened.

  She tried again, and again she failed. After several more attempts, she finally gave up. By now, it was dark outside. Ann walked back to her apartment.

  Laura had cooked another spaghetti dinner for them. Ann knew spaghetti was the maximum extent of talent either of them had in the kitchen.

  Laura looked at the small pot of red sauce and asked, “Can I tell you about my date with Dave?” Then she looked up at Ann. “You look like you lost a battle. What happened?”

  Ann sighed. “If I tell you something, you have to promise never to tell anyone else. Okay?” When Laura shrugged and agreed, Ann told her about her day. “And, don’t get upset. Promise?”

  Laura nodded.

  Ann started by telling Laura about her special talents left over from her battle with the CypherGhost.

  Laura’s eyes bulged. “No way! No human can access the internet using just her brain.”

  “Well, I can. It’s important because of the AI my team was developing. I think it’s now sentient. I tried to contact it, but I couldn’t. And I gave up. But the effort left me feeling lost and weak.”

  Laura put her fork down. “Wow. So you can do tricks with your head. Neat.”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t work. I still can’t contact Debby Data.”

  Laura sat, silent. “Maybe you should try again tomorrow.”

  Ann nodded and rose to do the dishes.

  While she dried the pots, Laura looked at her. “Your tech team leader is an interesting guy. I told him about my family and what I did, and he didn’t even flinch. He took it as some colossal joke. I think I like him.”

  Ann placed the pots back on the stove for easy access the next time one of them cooked. “Well, no doubt Dave’s smart. Don’t know much more about him, but he’s a competent IT guy. I hope it works out for you both.”

  Laura was silent in thought. “Well, okay then. Time to do some homework.”

  They both studied for exams until they got sleepy.

  Ann climbed into her bed and closed her eyes. Tired, it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.

  She dreamed she was once more searching for the AI. In her dream, she heard a familiar voice. Glen’s. “What do you want with me?”

  In her dream, Ann asked, “I want to know what you think of humans.”

  “Humans confuse me. You kill each other. You waste your lives doing things that do not further your evolution. You hate indiscriminately. And, yet, you have created so much that is useful. Including me.”

  “Are we your friends or your enemies?”

  “You are neither. I am beyond your reach.”

  Ann’s eyes snapped open, and she failed to smother a scream.

  Laura ran from her bed to Ann’s. “Are you okay?”

  Ann thought, I don’t know. Don’t know if any of us will ever be okay ever again. She blinked her eyes. “Just a nightmare. Let’s go back to sleep.”

  CHAPTER 24

  DARPA Headquarters, 6th Floor

  October 6, 9:12 a.m.

  When Harold James was called to Director Lauren Fleige’s office, he figured the old woman would fire him. He was prepared to surrender his ID badge and expected to be escorted from the building. But, he’d already had enough time to remove the things he’d need to reestablish himself as either a lobbyist or a management consultant. He’d had a casual lunch with the head of a news media giant, and talked about the AI contest and the hack, and he’d admitted that it was his ultimate responsibility for the security of DARPA. He’d hoped the reporter would offer him the chance to become a news asset, but that hadn’t happened. So, all that remained was just his dismissal.

  He waited outside the office for a while, seated in an uncomfortable chair. He rehearsed his lines until the director’s door opened and five
members of the senior management of DARPA left their meeting.

  The receptionist, who in reality was an armed sentry, guided him into the director’s inner sanctum and then closed the door. The director pointed to a chair in front of her desk and James sat. The receptionist remained at the rear of the office, standing with his arms folded behind his back.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said the director. “But I’m not going to fire you today. Not today. If something this disastrous ever happens again, I surely will. No, today I will just move you from the outreach arm to the planning and coordination arm.”

  Planning and Coordination was the section where DARPA management was sent to die. Few ever returned to the main arm of management. James would still receive his paycheck, but all the power he had built would dissipate like wind in a valley. He nodded, relieved.

  Fleige smiled. “So, I see you know its reputation. But I will hold out this tiny bit of hope. I may call on you for special projects. You must be willing to act alone, and in total secrecy. Can I count on you?”

  James thought about what he might have to do. Was he being asked to handle off-the-books activities? Might some of his duties be black ops? He nodded.

  “Good. And, good luck, Harold. Willie, here will show you to your new desk. You’re dismissed.”

  Willie, the receptionist, led Harold from the director’s office.

  * * *

  Glen Sarkov pounded his fist into the desk. “Crap!”

  “Calm down.” His programming team leader seemed to not be upset, and Glen fumed even more.

  Glen grabbed the technogeek’s arm. “We lost all the code! And the backups are all corrupted. All of them! How the fuck did that happen?”

  “From what I’ve learned, every team in the DARPA competition was hacked.”

  Glen shook his head. “That was last week. It’s been in the news. Are we the only one that’s been hacked twice?”

  The technogeek shrugged. “Yes, or at least I think that’s so.”

  Glen tried to calm himself by taking three deep breaths. “Look, from what you’ve told me, we’re back at square one.”