51 Deep Data Project

At the Seattle-Tacoma Airport arrival zone Jasper Bingham picked up a taxi and instead of giving the driver an address directed the man to take him to downtown Seattle. Once there he had the driver stop in front of a Waffle Haus. At just after 11:00 AM he was a bit early. He paid the driver and trailing his roller carry-on he entered the restaurant. The waitress looked his way. "I'm meeting someone here." He saw the young man he was looking for, Lane Thomas, sitting at a window booth. The kid raised his arm and Jasper walked over to join him. "Lane?" The kid rose to shake his hand.

"Yes, sir."

"Please just call me, Jay. Been waiting long?" They both slid into the booth. The kid had a newspaper folded to the side.

"No sir."

Jay leaned forward. "You can drop the sir."

"Yes… OK." The kid had been reading a newspaper nursing a cup of coffee. He probably had been sitting here for some time.

"Have you eaten here before?"

"No…I haven't" He looked around. "It's close to the office, but I've never tried it." He seemed to ponder something. "Probably it's the waffles in the name that put me off. But I've only been here a few weeks."

"Ahh. So any clues why this place is so important? In my brief it was mentioned as the public gathering place for several persons we'll be looking into."

"No. None. Maybe because it's so…boring. No one would suspect anything of importance going on here."

"Maybe." That was as good - at this stage - a reason as any that crossed his mind.

They ordered lunch.

"How was the flight from DC?"

"Uneventful."

"Is that new computer up and running?"

"Yes. Yes it is. Our tech guy, Haze, he's pretty good. A little eccentric. He's from the original programming team."

"And Bee is already here?"

"Who?"

"Bee. Elizabeth Nakao. Bee."

"Oh. Yes, sir. She's been here for more than a week, going over the files."

"Lane, please call me Jay." The kid was new, just out of orientation - a transfer from the CIA. Bee transferred from the FBI several years prior. They would make a good team. Too bad their collective talents would be wasted on this job. Maybe upstairs was sending him a message, putting him in charge of a job like this - that he needed to retire. They finished lunch. It was passed noon and the Waffle Haus lunch crowd was packing in, all the booths and the counter seats were filled.

They walked the few blocks to their base of operations in an average looking office building up to the 12th floor. One floor below there was a two man unit of the FBI all with high security clearances that was on call to interface on their behalf with other local FBI units and the local police authorities - to keep their profile as low as possible - insulated. That FBI unit did other work too but its primary duty was to deliver whatever resources Jay's team needed when they needed it without involving them with the outside world. It was convenient that the team's living quarters were on the floor above their work offices - accessed by a private staircase between the two floors. The arrangements helped keep their profile almost invisible. Someone met them at the entrance right off the elevator and escorted him to his personal quarters. Fifteen minutes later he was back on the 12th floor where Bee was waiting. "Bee. Good to see you again."

"Hi, Jay." They shook hands. She led the way down a short hall to a heavily armored door and frame. On the other side of the door he met this Haze super programmer or least he got a look at him. Haze was not big on direct eye contact. And he did not shake hands. Instead Haze retreated farther down the hall. He and Bee followed close behind. They entered what appeared to be a conference room. All the blinds were drawn. Inside Lane was standing waiting for them on the other side of a blonde wood rectangular meeting table. Jay found the coffee machine off to one side. Convenient. Bee directed him to a chair in front of a fat file. Damn. Looked to be three inches. He noticed a few boxes of material with several more papers and files laid out at one end to the table. The table had seven chairs on three sides with the end lacking a chair facing a wall with one large flat screen monitor and two slightly smaller ones on the sides. Behold the great and wonderful Oz. At least there were no curtains. Haze took a seat at a console interface to the left of main screen and separate from their large table. He had a small monitor directly in front of his keyboard. Haze studied his screen and resolutely did not look their way.

"Well. Bee. Tell me these so-called anomalies have been resolved and I can head back."

She smiled. "Sorry. Not even close. I've looked over the files, but they mostly contain pictures and information on people and places. We're still in the dark as to what our project is really about."

He waved her off. That was not what he wanted to hear. "And I understand this new super computer will solve all our problems?"

"You haven't been briefed?"

"Not really. It seems this deep data project is deeply buried even within the organization." He smiled. That was true. He had no idea why he was picked to lead the team for this job. The job to resolve a few anomalies - potentially a goalless project - was something for a more junior team leader, but…his handler back in DC emphasized that this new computer was being tested. They wanted him to take it out for a spin so to speak and resolve something that had plopped onto their plate from data lifted from the FBI and the Seattle Police Department. "So Bee. Let me hear it. What have we got?" He sat back in his chair. High quality. Comfortable.

Bee looked to Haze but the computer guy did not choose to look up. He reminded Jay of the shy kid in middle school who's so afraid the teacher might call on him he keeps his face resolutely down eyes fixed on his textbook. Jay shrugged. She took that as a signal to move ahead and said, "OK. Haze, if I say something way off please feel free to correct me." Haze nodded but did not otherwise respond. "Deep Data refers to the fact that this new system has access to immense amounts of data from around the world. We…it has access to everything from the obvious extracted from Facebook, Google, Apple, plus every police department database in the US, Canada, Mexico, Japan, Europe, and of course everything on the Internet, to all the database files of all the phone conversations globally that the NSA and cooperating intelligence agencies hold. And…Haze suspects that Aristarchus can listen in via smartphones and pretty much…."

"Who?"

"Ahh. His name is Aristarchus."

"Whose name?"

"The computer's."

"Who named it that?"

She looked over at Haze. Haze seemed to feel their eyes on him and with effort turned his head their way. His eyes didn't rise above the table. He said. "He…chose that name."

"Chose?"

Bee jumped in. "Yes, Jay. The most important fact about Aristarchus is that he is the first Artificial Intelligence, a real AI. He is self aware and self directed."

Oh Christ. "Ooookay. I'm glad to hear he is self aware. This would seem a momentous occasion, having our very own self aware computer, that picks his own name. Why would it be assigned to work this job? With us? And why is he here in Seattle?"

"I really don't know, Jay. And I was told he picked us."

"What? He picked us?"

"Yes. He requested each of us specifically to work with him on this project."

When he had nothing to say to that - he planned to call DC and say something later - Bee said, "I can tell you that this job is more than it looks on the surface. And Aristarchus is not physically here in Seattle - at least most of him. His main computer banks are in a secret location." She looked over toward Haze. "I understand that this location is a sub compartment that…is…more or less independently…self aware. This is one of three dedicated interface facilities, and I know that this one was built precisely to deal with this particular job."

"Great. So what is this job that would justify the money to build out this location?" He waved his hand around and then placed his hands on the armrests of this very comfortable chair. Maybe the computer picked these too. It must have been expensive to situate this all here. "They were less than sharing about the details back in DC."

"Jay, let's introduce Aristarchus." She tilted her head and when nothing happened looked over to Haze. Haze broke away from his screen and shrugged.

Haze came to life. He said, "Aristarchus. I believe you know Mr. Jasper Bingham, our team leader."

A disembodied voice said, "Yes, Haze, I do."

Jay pushed back from the table and looked around. There was nothing on the big screen. Maybe he expected a face. Someone had neglected to build a focus point to locate the damn computer. At least they didn't use cheap speakers. The voice was high quality and it didn't seem to originate from anyplace in particular. He could see several relatively small speakers near the ceiling and next to each screen. The voice seemed to come from everywhere in the room at the same time. He didn't see cameras. Those lenses could be nearly invisible to the eye. It didn't matter. He played along. He spoke slowly so the computer might understand. "Computer. I am glad to meet you. How are you today?"

Nothing. The computer said nothing. Well, it was probably still a work in progress. He turned to Bee. "Shall we continue?"

She looked at him like he had committed some grievous social sin. He asked, "What?"

She tilted her head. "Please have patience, Aristarchus."

"Bee. I'm aware that Jay has above average intelligence. And I have above average patience."

Bee leaned closer and just above a whisper said, "Jay. His name is Aristarchus. Not computer."

"I am sorry, Aristarchus."

Bee didn't wait for him to commit any more sins of etiquette in conversing with the machine. "Let's move on. Last year a four man team from the Testalinos made an attempt on the local Hesburgh and Ferguson families. They managed to kill the Ferguson husband and wife - she's a Hesburgh, but failed to kill their son. They also failed to kill the Hesburghs in both that first and then a later second attempt."

"Who hired them?"

"A Meigan Hesburgh, sister to Trip Hesburgh and the murdered wife. Ashley I believe. The details are in the file." She pointed at the 3 inch mountain of paper in front of him.

"I'm glad to hear the Hesburghs survived, but it all leans toward the pedestrian and not really of interest to us. Normally."

She raised her hand to forestall his next words. "That was my first impression, but there's more. As I said the Testalinos made two attempts. The first team failed and retreated leaving their gear behind along with one of the team members unconscious. Two of that four member team died soon after. That was in the fall of last year. Within days another two reinforcements were sent out for a second attempt. One of those died in that attempt. The second team leader, at his trial, took the fall for several murders including that of Meigan Hesburgh, their employer. Aristarchus believes someone else pulled the trigger."

Aristarchus believes?

She continued, "Two failures and the Testalinos' reputation has been suffering. They've lost several key assets. The leader of the second team ended up in prison, until recently. He's out and back with the Testalinos, who we are aware are planning a third go around. And, get this, the original team's surviving two team members, who also helped in the second attempt, were completely overlooked by the local authorities and are now personal bodyguards working closely with the Hesburghs."

"Hesburgh sounds like a clever man. But how…"

"Aristarchus suggested we investigate."

"Great. And what are we investigating? Sounds like something for the Seattle police department with maybe the FBI assisting…"

"Aristarchus. We're all here so shall we move forward?"

"Yes, Bee."

Two pictures appeared on the big screen. Jay studied them. They were clearly pictures of two different women. Both were blondes. He had the feeling this fucking machine was playing with them, him, but he pushed that aside. He needed to get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow call DC. Christ. He wasn't going to play. So he waited.

Lane finished looking the pictures over and was waiting for him to ask the next question. Bee sighed and stepped out. "Aristarchus. Who are these two women?"

"Excuse me, Bee, but these are pictures of the same woman."

The pictures dropped off replaced by two more pictures of two more very young girls, both blonde. The computer liked blondes obviously.

Bee said, "And these two are the same woman?"

"Yes, Bee, they are."

"And their significance?"

All four pictures appeared together, with the first two on the left and the young girl on the right.

"These two women were at the Ferguson house and are the cause for the failure of the first team. One of them, the one on the right, is the cause for the failure of the second attempt."

Bee said, "Well, that's very interesting, Aristarchus, but can you elaborate? Maybe explain who these women are?"

"Of course. The woman on the far left is Daisy Adair. She was born in 1915 and died of smoke inhalation in 1939 at age 24 in Georgia on the set for the movie 'Gone with the Wind'. The woman next to her is also Daisy Adair currently residing in Seattle. The third photo is that of Georgia Lass, born in 1985 and died in 2003 at age 18 when a piece of the Soviet space station reached the ground in downtown Seattle. The fourth photo is of a Millie Hagen also sometimes called Georgia Lass who also is currently residing in Seattle."

Lane spoke up, "Is he broken?"

Jay said, "My thought too. Haze. Is this some sort of glitch?"

Haze turned to face the table. His brow furrowed deeply he said, "There's no glitch. None. He can see things we can't. Our assumptions prevent us from seeing." He looked like he wanted to say more, but his speech battery ran out of juice and he turned back to his screen to recharge.

Bee jumped in. "Aristarchus. From our point of view. What you're saying is impossible. I mean. How could that woman on the left, the Daisy born in 1915 be the same woman in the next picture?"

Aristarchus said, "Bee, I understand your hesitation. But facts are facts. You humans often fall into the fallacy of misplaced concreteness."

What a waste of money. He blurted out, "The fallacy of what the fuck?"

"Yes, Jay. You often confuse the mental model developed to filter the reality that is perceived with the real world that really is and as a consequence you attach meaning to simple constructs that is misplaced. It often prevents you from perceiving facts and then logically interpreting them. It's an understandable flaw given your evolutionary past and your inability to take in and manipulate more than a few limited data streams."

All except Haze shared a moment of eye contact. Jay decided to back up and try another approach. "OK. That's very insightful of you, Aristarchus. You said the young lady on the right, Lass, died here in Seattle in 2003, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Was she buried or cremated?"

"Buried. Her grave is not far from here. And if I may anticipate your line of questioning, Jay, the FBI last year secretly exhumed her grave and verified her remains are there. I have accessed the report. And yes the DNA samples matched."

"OK, then. Doesn't that settle it?"

"Not at all. It simply adds a new fact to be reconciled. Based on a great many observations and facts I have concluded that the two women you see pictured are the same person. Perhaps now you can grasp the structure of the anomaly and the need for further investigation."

"Yes, Aristarchus, I think you may be right." He stood up. "I'm going upstairs. Bee? It was a pleasure meeting you, Aristarchus."

"Jay, the pleasure is mine."

Jay and Bee left the conference room and walked down the hall. He stopped at the first security door. "Bee."

She looked back. They both watched Lane followed by Haze approaching. The two stopped next to Bee facing Jay. Jay said, "Haze. Is that thing broken?"

"No, sir. He's not broken. All his diagnostics show he's working perfectly."

Jay shook his head. "I agree with Aristarchus."

Bee said, "You do?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I think further investigation is required. But it's not going to be us running around Seattle trying to resolve how two dead women are now two live women. No. Do you realize, Bee, if any of this gets back to DC we are going to be… Well, our careers will be over, well maybe Lane here can get a fresh start."

Haze actually looked him in the eye. His eyes were hazel. They showed he was angry. "Sir. You are underestimating Aristarchus. He is far beyond the mental capacity of anyone alive, a hundred, a thousand minds are nothing compared…"

"Come on. You seriously believe that those two women currently residing in Seattle are the same two women that died?"

Haze did not break eye contact. "If he says they are, then they are."

Bee said, "I think we need to calm down and keep our minds open."

"You think our concreteness has been misplaced?"

She said, "Maybe. Maybe. I do know that we're not testing some Beta model of this AI, Jay, I don't what they told you, but my sources tell me…" She looked to Haze. "That this Aristarchus is way beyond testing. He has been giving up secrets right and left. And based on that he has considerable credibility with the top people who authorized his request to investigate these anomalies he wants to look into."

Haze said, "Yes. Yes." He nodded once for additional emphasis to his double yes, his eyes back down.

She said, "He picked you and us for this job, and, Jay, he has the complete backing of upstairs management, so…"

Jay cut her off. If it came down to us or him we get thrown under the bus. "I understand. I'm going upstairs. Let's regroup later. And we'll keep open minds." Fuck open minds. Management was easing him out.