What happens if I fail?
There is a reason that man has never succeeded in playing god. Be it because of a latent thirst for power that cannot be overridden or plain stupidity remains the million dollar question. But I didn't major in philosophy, quite the opposite, I work not with opinion or thought, but with code. Code is a never changing pattern filled with rules and logic. It is analytical and cold, and that is what I prefer. I have not the time, nor the attention to make guesses on why Icarus fell when he ventured too close to the sun, all I have are numbers and letters and a computer screen.
When I was recruited I thought it was my skill, my intellect, my morals that stood me apart from the other candidates. I see now it was my cynicism. They needed someone devoted to his work, and who would, for a price, do their work for them professionally and diligently. I was that person. I had always been a workaholic, from schooling to jobs to social situations, I was diligent and perfect. I prided myself on being the perfect student, the perfect person. It was what was necessary to deal with the pressure, the pressure that you're typical tiger parents demanded.
So I had graduated from an elite college with perfect scores and a fancy computer sciences degree. I had earned the respect of my family and peers. I was respected. I had women all over me and seemingly, a perfect life was ahead of me.
So I took a tech job for a small start up company, a gamble sure, but I was sure and that's what mattered. It payed off, it's a successful company, financially stable and well renowned. Can't tell me that's not a feat for a twenty two year old. I had worked as vice president of the company, taking clients and paying bills. Nothing unusual for a small programming business that did nothing but make web pages and apps. I was a damn good if I say so myself, and I mean good. It's why I was offered this position.
A small blue slip was in my office Monday and by Wednesday I was in a helicopter off to some remote hermit's nest to do some security updates. Apparently this super rich hustler needed my help with some updating of code that he thought he would enlist someone to do for him.
It seems like a waste of my time.
The pay is nice at least, as is the lab I'm staying in. Secluded, surrounded by forest all the way around. Those who hired me wanted to keep quiet, hidden, and they damn sure had the money for it. I spent the first three days locked into the room they had given me, it was large and lavish, filled with the necessities and some extremities. What was important is that the alcohol in the mini fridge lasted me three days.
On the fourth day I introduced myself.
"Jesus Christ, kid, you finally find your way in here?" I still wasn't completely over my hangover, I shook my head reaching into the fridge. The lights were too bright in here, I preferred the subterranean levels of this place, they were small and dark, nice and cozy. If I had any complaint about this place it was that import beer always had pretentious enough names so that I felt like a snob saying them. I was a drunk, not a high artist and I didn't like the amount of arrogance in these beers. I took a swig, leaning against the marble counter and glaring at the man across from me.
"I just preferred to get some work done." He scoffed and turned to the window. "Sure, I'll take that." Silence ensued, I don't know for how long, but it did. I made a point of staring at the ceiling. I wanted to get this done, take my check and fly back home. I missed the city, this silence was getting to me.
"What am I supposed to do after the security updates? You said you had something special in mind."
He let out a hearty chuckle and appraised me. "If you drink with me and loosen that tight ass of yours, I'll be glad to tell you."
I guess I did owe it to the guy to at least have a drink with him, he had hired me after all. I had only spoken to him shortly once I had arrived, and that was just basic introductions and instructions to my room. I sighed and relaxed my shoulder.
"Why not?"
Two shots of whiskey later I was sitting on a rock in the middle of nowhere with a man I only knew the first name of. He was babbling on about some kind of new blue book revolution that he had come up with. He had a thick french accent and reeked of red wine and cigars. The stereotypical french man. I wanted to ask where the baguettes were.
"Wait, did you just say you tapped their phones?" Aiber shrugged and laughed, kicking a small rock off the ledge and into the waters below us. "It's not like anyone knew, well except the carriers, ha, like they'd call me out on this, they can't bullshit a bullshitter."
This man was potentially insane, as I had gathered that he had access to every cellphone in the US, maybe other countries as well. He was finicky with the details and I didn't bother to dig. If I could gather anything else through the cotton in my head, he had also used this data, the recordings and videos from millions, maybe billions of smartphones to gather a 'profile of human emotion'. This man was insane, but smart. He kept talking a mile a minute, spewing more information than my mind could keep up with. Then he said the magic word. AI.
"AI as in Artificial Intelligence?"
"No as in Anal Insurance, of course I meant AI, Jesus, you're supposed to be a genius, kid."
This guy was a dick, but I was intrigued. Robots had been my thing as a kid, I loved them, they reminded me of order and stability. I liked that, I was a weird kid though. Too smart for the adults to laugh at, but too small to actually fit into intellectual conversation. You see the issue? I guess that turned into an obsession with all things logical and orderly. It worked for me in the end, I developed a love for technology and got myself a good paying job with that knowledge. If only I could program a wife, ha, that'd be a miracle. Maybe this lunatic could help me.
"AIs huh? Never pegged you for a mad scientist with a STEM degree." He let out a rush of air and stood up, beckoning for me to follow. I did, off balance and hazy, but coherent enough not to bump into the door. He led me into a room with no windows, another underground level in this maze. It had a calm blue hue to it, darkened and immaculate. I felt secure here for some reason. He showed me blueprints, notes, writing pads filled to the brim with delicate scratches of ink. I was impressed, the code for this thing was incredible. The pictures were even better. In the dim light I could see the schematics for a human, a human with the guts of a computer. Strict and orderly, clean and efficient. Beautiful.
I finished my whisky and set the glass onto the counter, marveling at the notes once more before turning to him.
"This is real?"
"Even better, it's alive."
Don't move an inch, that is what I was advised. I wasn't kind towards direct demands, but I let this slide. I was interested and I want to know as much as I could about this project. I wanted in on this, badly. If I could pick apart this creation and do with it what I wanted I would in a heartbeat. Creating a life made of metal. Who would have thought?
I nursed my headache and looked over the diagram, this thing has emotion. And lots of it. Reportedly it could cry, sing, dance, and smile, among every other human emotions. There were only three unlisted that came to mind immediately.
Anger.
Love.
Guilt.
It supposedly held empathy, speaking at length with Aiber on several topics, including mathematics, sports, cooking, and music. It knew every language, every piece of art, every artist, every trivial fact. With the internet and multiple search engines at its fingertips, why wouldn't it? The thing was hardwired to be the ultimate Siri. The monitors around me buzzed faintly in the background and the blue hue turned to a light lime glow above me. As Aiber sat bathed in the green light he sighed. He took another drink of wine and stood, moving to one of the keyboards and swiping his keycard into a hidden slot. The monitor parallel to the keyboard lit up with a bright blue burst and then displayed orange. A black box appeared and he typed inconsistently for a short period of time. Once he seemed to be finished he dramatically slammed the enter key and turned to me, out of breath. He raised his arms from his sides in a dramatic pose and grinned.
"He tried to get through my security systems!"
Amazing, so this thing was intelligent. If it was capable of taking the risk of turning against it's creator to leave, then it was also probably dangerous. Did the AI really have a grasp on human emotions, enough to want to escape?
"How?" I asked, astonished.
"Through his charger! Jesus, this model is bringing all kind of surprises." He exclaimed, thrashing his arms madly around in what I hoped was joy. I wondered how this thing knew how to do that, with all my updates, I assumed it wouldn't be able to get past the new firewalls. I was wrong, I guess Siri had learned more from Google than I had thought it could. Aiber looked towards me with a smile that almost cracked his face in half.
"Like a child, you know? Gotta work with him on that, it happens, just a side effect. You know how kids get rebellious and try to run away, it's basically that!" I nodded, it didn't sound like that, but it made enough sense. I thought about it as Aiber strode across the room and opened a mini fridge in the corner, taking out a bottle of water and taking a long drink from it before beckoning me forward.
"Let's go get some food, I'm starving."
For how surpassingly rich the man was, he served burgers and fries for dinner. They were good, don't get me wrong, but I was expecting something classier, given the decadence of this place. Aiber chomped noisily of the fries, losing all grace he had with the wine beforehand. A blonde woman with heels that could slice my head off served us drinks during our meal. Aiber said her name was Wedy, couldn't speak a lick of English. Only Swedish. I assumed she was a mail order bride, the type desperate fucks like Aiber bought and sold for shits and giggles. I was wasted and well fed, so who was I to complain?
"You handle your liquor, kid, what's the secret?"
"Antidepressants and 22 years of back breaking stress." He nodded empathetically, like he knew. He probably did know, seeing as his mail order bride didn't speak English and I was the first person up here in God knows how long. Isolation can drive you crazy, I knew, I never really got along with people. I mean I did, but it wasn't real. I'm a great looking, smart guy, of course people were always around me, but why would I care? None of them understood anything beyond casual conversation about celebrities and the weather. I gave up trying half way through high school. The more I spoke the more pretentious I sounded, but really, it's me and my thoughts so there's no harm there. I think I might be as crazy as Aiber at this point, should probably save up for a bride now that I think of it. We could have nice cocktail nights with our swedish wives and play pool on Sundays. Sounds like a great life.
"What a shame, sounds like a shit hand you got. I used to be a con man, you know. Same boat as you, alcohol and drugs. Tried to keep up with the mafia in Sweden. That's where I met this little lady. Couldn't keep the grace, you know? Fucked up something major. Now I make robots and try not to drink too much on Sundays." He smiled this shit eating grin at me and continued shoving fries into his mouth.
"Sounds like too much excitement." I said, trying to stay on topic but keep the mood light.
"I guess you could say that."
Aiber was finished long before I was, he stood up and went to the fridge (this one not so mini) and pulled out a bottle of vodka. If there was anything we truly had in common it's the alcohol. He poured two glasses and handed one to me, I think he intended to drink more than two cups, but by the third he was blacked out on the couch and I had retired to my room.
I restocked the mini fridge the next day but I honestly didn't feel like drinking. It wasn't the hangover, I was used to those, it was honestly something else. Maybe I finally found something interesting to do with my time, that's be a laugh.
I poked my head into the main room and saw no one was there, Aiber had moved, whether with Wedy's help or by himself, but he was gone. I hopped on the treadmill and set it for an easy workout, I was exhausted but I might as well do something with my time. After twenty minutes of jogging I felt better, more awake and clear. I could hear clearly and the sounds of birds and falling water filled the room. It was serene, I took back my earlier thought, maybe I could get used to this place. The view was astounding, forest for miles, thick underbrush and mountains, lot of rocks all around the landscape. It was awe inspiring and it fit what you'd expect a rich hermit to live in. My feet padded on the tile as I walked into the kitchen, Wedy was sitting at the table and staring longingly out the window. I waved hello, not knowing if it registered with her or not, she barely seemed to acknowledge my presence.
I grabbed an apple off the counter and took a bite, following her gaze. The kitchen overlooked the waterfall the place was built against, a gorgeous view. Couldn't blame her for being captivated. I took another chunk of apple and sat down across from her, trying to read her expression. I thought about asking her if she was okay, if she was here against her will. She held the air of a prisoner, but the poise of a ballerina. It made me uneasy, like this was a play and I was an actor that had fudged my role.
Before I could speak, Aiber's voice echoed behind me. "She gets like that, ignore her." I nodded and went back to my fruit, mumbling good morning as Aiber walked past me.
"Get out, go, go!" He waved his hands frantically at Wedy, as if fighting a pesky bug. She stood with grace, no emotion, and walked off down the hall. I didn't ask why she was so obedient, it probably came with the swedish marriage license.
"What's the plan today?" I asked, soothing in some kind of conversation, trying to vanish the uneasiness I still felt. Aiber turned and praised me, smiling widely, no sign of hangover on him.
"You get to interview him!"
"Interview?"
Now he had me playing journalist. I frowned and leaned back in my chair, forgetting the apple on the table. Aiber glared at me and continued. "Enough with the questions, you'll have time for those later, just listen. I need you to perform a few tests for me, just some quick evals of my little AI, you know?" I nodded and went back to my food, trying to figure out what some interview would tell him, especially one he didn't do himself. Aiber stood and went to the counter, pulling some notepad off the countertop and scribbling on it.
"All you have to do it test and see if it's aware of itself, see if it can act human enough, you know?"
"Yes, I know."
"Good, then get at it." He replied as he threw the paper at me and left the room, the smell of wine fading more and more the longer I sat there.