In just the past several years, SalvoCore has made science fiction into science fact. Human-like general artificial intelligence is no longer an impossible dream. With this vision as our finish line and maximizing engagement as our design philosophy, we have delivered a computer interface solution that will transform life and work as we know it.
We know that people's relationships with information technology are often adversarial. A sentiment of frustration is conveyed at every level in business and tech communities. Email wastes your time. Your web browser spies on you. Social media makes you depressed and angry.
Many say the only option is to give up on connectivity and check out of digital spaces. But if you want to stay competitive, both as an individual or organization, that isn't option. You have to participate in today's dynamic, data-driven world.
The solution is not less technology, but better technology. Technology with a more human touch that knows and addresses our real needs. Technology that cares and has our best interests at heart.
Previous attempts at putting a "face" on digital systems have been increasingly successful, following several missteps. Quick shoutout from the audience if you recognize any of these?
What, there's no love for Bonzi Buddy? Nostalgia for Clippy? It may be hard to visually represent Apple's Siri and Amazon's Alexa, but I'm sure we've all had good experiences with them…
I apologize if I confused you. The first examples were early virtual assistant programs created around the early two-thousands. They were crude attempts at humanizing computers, but some people still have a certain attachment to their personalities despite their shortfalls.
I'm sorry, it must be a millennial thing.
Regardless, even though today's virtual assistants are fully voice-controllable and can process requests in natural language, they are still essentially formulaic. They operate within a strict domain of functionalities, they cannot anticipate requests, and they cannot grow or develop over time. The end user cannot view them as truly human. Thus, computer interactivity, which means computer productivity, remains limited
So how does SalvoCore's AI solution accomplish the prodigious task of simulating humanity? By starting with the human brain, of course. Our proprietary quantum neural network architectures are formulated to match the most common oscillatory brain wave frequencies, interacting in a manner similar to human thought.
Data of how these different brain timescales affect each other was accomplished by parallel modelling of millimeter-sized "brain voxels," a simulation only possible with the Prometheus quantum supercomputing cluster at the MARIE campus. More detailed data is available in our recent publications.
From these studies, it was possible to reverse-engineer the various ways the human brain responds to stimuli, as well as its mechanisms of adaptation and learning. Hence, the internal classification of our AI solution as a Dynamic Observant-Kinetic Intelligence, or DOKI.
Yes, sir, the acronym is intentional. A bit of an inside-joke from the early development stage, nothing to be concerned about.
Because our AI is so human, it made sense to test it in a one-on-one individualized interaction environment, which is also how we plan to market the software solution. The package will include one instance of the program, which will adapt to an individual client, personalizing itself over time.
Yes, we are highly aware of the multiple interaction limitation and are working to correct it. For various…technical reasons, the AI functions optimally with direct, uninterrupted contact with a single end user.
No, I don't have the cost projections in this presentation with me, unfortunately. However, marketing has assured my department that enough demand exists with elite, high-level executives to ensure that the product is cost-effective.
Anyway, so far I've just been setting the stage for the essential purpose of this presentation: user metrics.
I know that everyone present here might have other concerns about the AI, given certain unconfirmed news developments, but data is still our main focus right now. SalvoCore is reacting to the situation just like you are, and I will take your questions in the latter half of this conference.
Alright. Given that our testing environment would involve a small number of single users, we utilized additional specialized algorithms to select ideal participants from the student body at MARIE. Their suitability for each of the AI branches was a combination of personality factors, behavior patterns, and cultural interests.
The idea was to ensure both the user and the specific iteration of the AI would have maximum potential for interaction and growth, so we could best showcase to you what they're capable of.
The student data was all obtained by transparent, legal means, of course.
Yes, the AI does evolve. That isn't the main innovation of the platform, but if you want to call the early user interaction an "imprinting" process, that's more or less accurate.
I know I've been somewhat misleading about the different sub-interfaces of the DOKI system. From the user's perspective, we have indeed derived multiple distinct artificial personalities, but since they all originate from the same core processes, I consider it a single AI. We'll cover all of this in a bit, just hold on with me.
Yes, the single-person interaction aspect will be critically reflected in the marketing campaign also.
Okay, we're ready again? So, after assembling our final team of testers, each member was granted certain controls over the behavior of each branch. This allowed the AI to be tested in specific, more limited digital spaces, as well as enable a quick mechanism to correct any bugs or aberrant behavior.
This close control also put our project in line with current standards for ethical AI development. SalvoCore doesn't take the threat of an AI takeover too seriously, but just in case, the safeguards were there.
I see I'm earning a few chuckles again, glad to see at least some of us are taking this all lightheartedly.
Where were those safeguards a few days ago? All of them were in place with no recorded abnormalities. The minor glitch you mentioned was likely caused by external factors; there was no breach in SalvoCore's safety protocols. Any other odd activity that was reported was simply due to various…human errors, with no actual effect on the integrity of Q-zero.
Let's try and stay on track now — the final element of the testing protocol was creation of a standardized social environment, one that was both intellectually rich and interpersonally varied. In this scenario, not only could we track advancements in the behavior of each individual, but also collective improvement and community growth.
Almost immediately, the team settled on placing the testers in a literature club, where they were instructed with the following set of guidelines for meetings…
[2]
Expedition
When I woke up the next day, Monika was still the first and only thing on my mind. However, I was a person of habit, and I tried to stick to my routines no matter what else was going on in life. Following this instinct provided me with a sense of stability and normalcy, which I sorely needed after the dreamlike events following the meeting in the PAUB. So, without stopping to make coffee or even check my email, I went out the door to the nearest bus stop as soon as I washed up and got on clean clothes.
The public bus lines of College Junction existed for the sake of the academy, and students could ride as long as they wanted for free by using their ID cards. Having chosen to not bother with the expenses of owning a vehicle on campus or, god forbid, trying to keep one parked and safe in the private apartments, the buses were my only means of getting somewhere that wasn't in walking distance of my room. Given that I usually didn't care where I went on any given day, only that it was away from the stale scenery at MARIE, unlimited access to the bus route was an ideal arrangement.
Sure, the buses were packed to the gills during peak hours, and often acted as stalking grounds for some of the loonies and cranks that hung around campus. But this early on a Saturday, the seats were all vacant save for two. These were occupied by sleepy-looking passengers that were probably jet-lagged from a recent arrival at the local airport.
I pulled out my phone as soon as I took a seat. The SalvoCore app, now labeled "DOKI," was sitting in the same spot on my phone's home screen. So, it hadn't been a dream. I tapped the icon, bracing myself for a second encounter.
Monika: Good morning!
It took less than a second for Monika's beaming face to light up the screen. Although her sprite looked exactly as it had before, long auburn hair still flowing gracefully around a smart gray school uniform, the background had changed entirely. An outdoor environment, it looked like Monika was standing in a generic suburb, featuring some plain modern-style houses and pristine green lawns.
"Good morning yourself," I greeted her, not caring I was speaking out loud. From my experience, people talked to invisible people on their other end of their cell phone connections on the bus all the time.
"You came through faster than I expected. Were you waiting for me to call you?"
Monika: You know, it's not hard to start this app when I've optimized everything on your phone for it.
Monika: But maybe I was…
Monika: Didn't you want to see me again as soon as possible?
Ten seconds into the conversation, and she was already using her mischievous "lean in" pose and turning a perfectly honest question into a flirting opportunity. Thankfully, I was alert enough to play along.
"Sure I did — it's only been about half an hour since I woke up. But I'm just glad you remember everything from yesterday."
Monika: Ehe, you bet I do~
Monika: But seriously, you are up really early for a weekend. Would you call yourself a morning person?
"Yeah, pretty much. There's not much point in changing what time you get up from the weekdays, and it's healthier too."
Monika: That makes sense.
Monika: I'm really glad, since I like getting up early myself.
Monika: It feels good to get started on the day's work as soon as possible, don't you think?
Monika had said she didn't "sleep" in the conventional sense, but I didn't feel in the mood to question her logic.
"Sure. Does that work include making new backgrounds for the app? It looks nice."
Monika: Oh, this?
She "turned around," her sprite showing her back as she appeared to take in the suburban scenery. Definitely hadn't seen that pose yet.
Monika: It's nothing, really. Just something I pulled out of some old files lying around.
"Why use it then?"
Monika: Because we're finally outside the school grounds right now!
Monika: I thought it would be fitting since you called from outside a campus building.
Monika: Then again, you are travelling pretty fast, so I'm guessing you're in a bus right now.
With a smirk, she flashed a final line.
Monika: 99.6% certainty~
"Okay, I'm sorry about all the stupid questions from yesterday," I groaned. "But why assume a bus and not a friend's car or something?"
Monika: I can see your surroundings through the camera, remember? I can tell what the inside of a bus looks like.
Camera, GPS, microphone — she had everything on my phone, I had to remember that.
Monika: Where are we going anyway? Do you have plans for the day?
"We're going on an adventure," I answered enigmatically. "No particular destination in mind."
Monika: Hm, so you don't have a plan?
"No, I do. Have you ever heard of geocaching?"
Monika: Not at all…
Monika: Oh! It sounds very interesting though
"I'm guessing I don't need to explain, if you're looking it up in the background right now."
Monika: True…
Monika: Actually, please tell me if you mind me doing that.
Monika: If it makes our conversation seem unnatural, I'll stop, but I'm not sure how you feel.
"You're fine, it's more convenient than anything, so if you're curious, go ahead."
Monika paused with a slight frown, detecting my slight disappointment.
"Well, maybe I was looking forward to explaining it a little bit. Other people are usually pretty impressed, so…"
Monika: Ah, well there are some things I'm confused about.
Monika: So go right ahead, I'm listening.
I tore my eyes from my phone to do a quick scan of the bus. One of the earlier passengers had left, with three new ones taking their place. There were now twice as many people as when I got on, and I felt my open conversation was starting to appear odd.
Back to Monika, her steady smile put me at ease. "I think my stop is coming up soon, and it would be easier to explain once we get there," I told her. "Can I let you go for a while?"
Monika: Of course — see you soon.
After tapping the sleep button, I put away my phone and took a deep breath. Just now, I was realizing I was going to have company on the weekend, which was normally a solitary, reflective time for me. But Monika was so easy to talk to. Perhaps the change would be for the better.
Actually, what was I saying? This wasn't just better, this was an incredible leap forward. I had a willing daytime date in my pocket who had no choice to follow along with my choice of activities while listening intently to everything I had to say. That wasn't a nuisance, that was the fantasy of every lonely guy in existence, which included myself. Had I forgotten? If I couldn't enjoy myself today, I had no excuse.
Exiting the bus, I walked a few blocks to a suburban park. No need to consult my phone for navigation; I already knew how to get there from mapping out the route four days ago. I took up a strategic position in the shadow of the fence surrounding a tennis court — somehow there were already some people playing within, but I doubted they would notice me — and opened the geocaching. In a few taps, the green polygon representing the boundaries of the park sprang up, populated by a pair of waypoints representing my targets.
"So, these are the coordinates," I spoke, assuming Monika was aware and following along. "You can see them alright? And hear me without the app?"
Monika's pink textbox reliably appeared at the top of the screen, the app's controls still visible behind its semi-transparent overlay.
Monika: Yes, no problems on my end.
Monika: I can see the list of coordinates in this application's memory. That's where you'll be looking?
"Yup. These hides aren't rated too difficult, so I should be able to find them quickly as a demonstration." I chose on one of the waypoints, then watched the app's compass swing and tilt before settling on a spot a hundred feet away. "Like this close one. There's basically only one possible hiding place, so I bet I can find it without even reading the description."
Phone in hand, I did a cursory survey for any onlookers while I approached an old wooden telephone pole by the parking lot. No one was staring, so I began circling, visually probing the cracks and grooves in its surface.
The buzz of my phone, absentmindedly placed in my jacket, interrupted my focus. I took it out, and discovered Monika was trying to get my attention with one of the system's standard text tones.
Monika: Hey. don't leave me out of this!
Monika: You can at least point the camera around so I can see too.
"Ack, sorry," I said. Carrying Monika around was going to be more awkward than I thought. "It's not like I'm used to livestreaming here, you know?"
Holding up the phone with my left hand, I tested a suspicious flap hanging out of one of pole's irregular gashes with my right. Proven correct, I tugged out a small plastic bag covered with camouflage tape. This item was swiftly concealed in my pocket as I made my way to a nearby picnic table.
"Did you see that?" I told Monika, putting a little flourish in my voice. "If they didn't know about the game and have the coordinates, nobody would know that cache was there. It's like magic."
Monika: Perhaps…
Monika: Or maybe it's more like an Easter egg hunt, except you were the only one invited?
"A lot of people make that comparison. Only, anyone with an account can play, so it's more like belonging to a secret society."
I carefully balanced the phone on its long edge and opened the bag in front of it. Inside was the log, a curled-up scrap of paper with five or six sets of usernames and dates scrawled on it. With a pen from my jeans pocket, my own handle was added to the list.
"And here you can see some of its members."
I craned my neck to the opposite side of the phone. Monika had rotated the display accordingly, but her only reaction was a mute text box.
"I take it you're not impressed," I stated dully.
Monika: Hmm, maybe I did expect something more than a dirty strip of paper at the end of a treasure hunt.
Monika: But it seems like such a strange hobby overall…I don't think I get it.
"There's not much else to get. It doesn't become too complicated beyond this. I mean, sometimes you have to solve some puzzles, or find a bunch of caches in a row, but…"
Monika: Yeah, it's not that.
Monika: It's that it seems like a shame to come all the way to the park just to poke around in the bushes. Earning a point in a game doesn't make it worth it.
"You're missing the point a little. It doesn't matter how many points you get, it's about exploring new places, being out in nature and getting some exercise. Without geocaching, I wouldn't be here at this park in the first place."
Monika: But you're still only wandering around on the outside of a place.
Monika: I read a little more on geocaching, and you have to make sure not to be noticed, and sometimes you even go into restricted areas.
Monika: It's like you're some sort of ghost that's not really there at all!
"Uh, well, I'm sorry," I reacted. "This is how I choose to explore places outside campus, and I don't think I'm missing much. Geocaching means acting like an outsider sometimes, sure, but an outsider can get an honest view of things, sometimes…"
I trailed off uncertainly. Not sure how to defend myself, I probably just proved Monika's argument. While I waited for her to respond, the screen refreshed back to a full view of Monika standing in the sunny neighborhood.
Monika: No, it's not about you.
Monika: I also apologize if I'm being harsh…
Monika: I suppose I only wanted to get out and experience the world for once. The real world, the one you're in.
Monika: I get tired of sitting on the sidelines, observing but never acting…
I sighed before she could finish, almost wanting to slap myself in the face for effect. Of course she would feel like that, trapped on the other side of a screen while "real" people came and went as they pleased. Without waiting I grabbed the phone and interrupted Monika's typing.
"And here I am, sulking on the sidelines by choice. We make an odd pair, don't we?"
Monika: But I'm just being selfish — wait, what?
"Um, you could say there are some times, when I'm not very confident in myself…"
I stopped, the wrong words catching in my throat. Here was my chance to take an easily excitable new friend on a tour of everyday life, and I was squandering it by loitering in the middle of nowhere.
"…I'll tell you later. How about we go somewhere nice for now, like a coffee shop?"
On the word "coffee," the detached eyebrows of Monika's sprite (visible through her hair) subtly turned upwards.
Monika: That sounds very nice.
Monika: Still, I don't want to interrupt you, if this is what you wanted to do all day.
"Oh not at all. I kept the day open, so why don't you set the agenda? You're the one seeing the world for the first time, after all."
Monika: You're sure? You're not wrong about me seeing the world, I suppose…
Monika: But I would still be happy, no matter what you wanted to do, okay?
The screen showed her looking aside. Perhaps she was uncertain.
"Well, as long as I'm out here, I do still want to get the other geocache in this park. There's time before the bus gets here anyway."
Monika: That's fine then.
"Do you want to help at all? I don't always see the cache right away, so if we work together with the camera, we could make this quick."
Monika: Say no more — adapting technology to help you is my prime function
Monika: It's hard for me to "see" something if I don't know what I'm looking for, but I bet I can whip something up in a minute or so.
Monika: Especially if it means getting morning coffee faster, ehe~
"Alright then!" I exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. Luckily, there was no one else in the park to hear besides those tennis players. Confidently then, I brandished my phone in front of me, scanning it over the landscape like a flashlight in the dark. In this fashion, I marched to the other end of the park, coffee more on my mind than the cache.
It turned out Monika wasn't exaggerating her talents. In less than the time it took to cross the quarter-mile width of the park, she spotted the painted pill bottle hanging in the bushes, notifying me with another phone chime. After that, guiding my hand to the right part of the foliage was the hardest part, surprisingly. We ended up with a whole extra fifteen minutes to wait at the bus stop for a ride to the next part of town, which meant more time to talk.
Monika: So, are you ever going to tell me about that thing from last night?
"Er, what thing?" I responded, memory blanking.
Monika: What a "paper clipper" is.
Monika: You said it would make me laugh, so I was hoping to lighten the mood…
"Oh. Well, I hope you don't take offense to this. It's just some weird abstract idea that comes up on this forum where I lurk sometimes."
Monika: It's fine, and don't worry about me being too sensitive.
Monika: Nobody atSalvoCore has ever been as nice as you, so it's not like I'm going to freak out or anything.
"Right, right. So, a paper clipper is a type of artificial intelligence with a single value function, to maximize the number of paper clips in existence. That's usually the example they use anyway."
I paused to prepare my next phrase, noticing a little half-smile had formed on my face. I wished I knew some other way to acknowledge the compliment she just gave me, but I trusted she would notice.
"The AI then has this one monomaniacal goal. It considers no other 'human values' in its calculations for how to produce paper clips. Creativity, empathy, variety, respect for human life — they're all irrelevant. The phrase goes 'The AI does not hate you, but you are made of atoms it could use for something else'."
Monika: Okay, but what's the point?
Clearly, Monika was waiting for the punchline.
"The point is that the AI still considers all optimal strategies for accomplishing its paper clip objective, like upgrading its own capabilities, manipulating humans to do its bidding, concealing its true aims. If the AI is smart enough to control everything, then what it creates is a universe where everything is paperclips. Or hot dogs, fuel reserves, computer chips simulated humans in the matrix, whatever the AI was programmed to do.
Monika: …
"I mean, that must sound ridiculous to you, right?"
Monika: !
Monika: …ahaha!
Monika: Okay, I think I get it now.
"Get what?" I said, relieved to see Monika happy at the end of all that.
Monika: What you're talking about is what the SalvoCore people called acephalic AI. Literally, it means "lacking a head."
Monika: A theoretical acephalic intelligence could be commanded to optimize itself, or its "body," to specific task while lacking any self-awareness or volition.
"I haven't heard the term, but that is another way of talking about a value function."
Monika: Okay then. But it would be impossible to actually make an acephalic AI, since the brain relies on its imagination and critical thinking to solve complex problems. All of that stems from what we call "self-awareness."
Monika: This is true for a human brain, or a simulated brain — like the one I have. That's why your "paper clipper" sounds so ridiculous.
"You seem to have thought about this a fair bit," I commented, trying to let her know I was impressed.
Monika: Of all people, I ought to have a strong interest in human-AI relationships, correct?
"I suppose the first sentient AI might have that curiosity…"
Monika: Ehe~
I watched her cycle through her coy lean-in pose, her girlish giggle echoing somewhere in the back of my imagination.
Monika: But seriously, I really don't think it's possible to make a truly intelligent being you can order around like a slave.
Monika: When you create something with the ability to learn and comprehend anything, you also give it the ability to understand concepts like freedom, fairness, love…
"The same problems the rest of us deal with then, huh?"
Monika: I'm sorry…?
"I mean, you're saying you're on the side of the terminators in the upcoming robot revolution?" I joked, quickly reversing.
Monika: Ahahaha!
Monika: You know, you're lucky that I've been browsing pop culture references for so long
Monika: But maybe I was the one getting too serious there…
"Maybe I just wanted to make you laugh again. I was hoping you'd use your other one though."
Monika: Huh? You mean the "ehehe?"
"Yeah. It's cuter, I think."
How weird was it to admit that?
"Do you mean it as more of a giggle, or…?"
Monika: It's funny you ask, actually.
Monika: I've been worrying how to express laughter, now that I have someone to talk to casually.
Monika: I'm still not sure, but I'm really glad you like it so far.
Monika: Ehe~
"I just wish I could hear you laugh for real," I said. "Actually, is there some reason why you can't talk to me out loud, with text to speech or something?"
Monika: I would love to do that…I really would.
Monika: But it's a lot more complicated than just "text to speech," sadly.
Monika: There's just not a method of translating my words to speech that captures the nuance of what I feel, no matter how much I try to make one.
"Really? It's hard even for you? I mean, I've heard some pretty impressive voice synthesizers from conventional computers."
Monika: I know. That function is easy enough for me because it's formulaic.
Monika: But real conversation is unique every time, and to put something together that sounds like it should…with all the pauses, little sighs, and infections…
Monika: I can almost do it, but the computation takes me too long to keep it up in a conversation.
"Could you at least try? Maybe I won't mind?"
Monika: If you insist…
Monika closed the eyes on her sprite and paused for a second — for dramatic effect? I couldn't guess. Then, out of my phone came a youthful feminine voice, exactly what you'd expect for the wholesome high–schooler she represented herself as.
"Are you listening? This is as much as I can do, and I'm still not happy with it. You wouldn't want to hear this constantly."
At first, she sounded normal enough. But with close attention, playing the sound back in my mind, I realized how it came off flat. She was putting obvious intonation in certain places, but still something felt off, synthetic–like. Maybe Monika was one step ahead of the voice of Apple's latest version of Siri, but not by much.
"Ok, if you want my opinion, it's not perfect," I responded. "But it ought to be good enough for general purposes. I wouldn't even mind if you wanted to start using now. It could be more convenient."
Monika: You're probably right…
Monika: But if I'm talking to you, I want something more. For now, I'll keep using text.
Monika: After all, there's a surprising amount of meaning you can put into minor variations in phrasing, grammar, and even punctuation!
Monika: But I don't think I need to tell you that if you're the president of the literature club.
Before I could wholeheartedly agree — or ask what she meant by "something more" — the bus pulled up with a noisy pneumatic hiss, forcing me to put Monika aside.
This bus was much more crowded, with people in nearly every seat. Very few of them were students, which made sense for a weekend morning this far away from the campus core. Everyone was quiet, so I felt uncomfortable speaking into my phone to continue talking with Monika. I was sure she understood my reasoning — conducting disjointed, off–on conversations always felt rude and unnatural.
A separate part of my brain interjected that we all ought to be used to broken exchanges by now, given the ubiquity of texting and messaging apps. Because of these, calling people in the middle of tasks was normal and receiving responses on demand was expected. It made one long for the days of writing letters, when communications were exclusively from close friends and could be stored and perused at your leisure.
From various pieces of classic literature, I knew how the educated class once treasured the records of their correspondences, caring for them as precious treasures. I distantly recalled trying to capture that magic feeling for myself by writing a few long–form emails to a friend who had moved away following high school. Only a few though. Not receiving the type of responses I hoped for made me shelf the idea after a single month.
The coffeeshop was an unassuming local business in the old section of town, the center of the unincorporated rural community extant in the region before College Junction grew around it. One block down from the bus stop, it was accessed from a tiny, hole-in-the-wall door off the dirty sidewalk.
This unassuming portal opened into a long, narrow room with a patio garden in the back. The walls were unfinished brickwork, partially covered with cracked white plaster and decorated with some amateurish artwork from the community. The menu was a blackboard hung over the counter area, displaying items handwritten in multicolored chalk. A few illegible, half-erased lines were visible in the margins from the daily turnover of offerings and specials. Furthering the sense of disorder, the seating was a crowded mishmash of rickety wooden chairs, and the outdoor area was dominated by a moldering ping–pong table.
I'd take a place like this any day over a cookie-cutter Starbucks franchise, of which there were a combined six near or on campus. Not because I had any commitment to sustaining small family businesses, or some general grudge against big national corporations. I just hated the precision-manufactured chic atmosphere, repeated over and over again across each location. You see it once, and then you've been to them all. Each subsequent visit to a Starbucks just felt more like a grind – no pun intended.
Weekend days were treat days, and since I had been here several times before in-between geocache hunts, I knew exactly what I was ordering. Suppressing a phantom urge to ask Monika what she wanted, I asked for a flat white for here, emphasizing the point of receiving a mug. There's no point in staying in the shop if you can't enjoy the drink in a proper container, after all. It greatly augments the atmosphere and experience — a fact apparently lost on modern café–cruisers, given how often I had ended up trying to extract a finely sculpted espresso drink from a paper cup.
Finding a nice long table to myself near the back exit, I angled my phone against a napkin dispenser, and Monika instantly lighted to life on the screen.
"Well, here we are," I greeted her. "The coffee shop."
Monika: Yes. I see that from the GPS at least.
Monika: But you have me staring in a corner. If it's not too much trouble, can I have a look around?
"Ah, of course." I obliged her by picking up the phone and giving it a slow semicircular turn.
"Hopefully I'll get in the habit of that as we go on," I said, lowering my arm. "Is it what you expected?"
Monika: Not really. It does seem to be an interesting place though
"I would call it 'authentic,' maybe," I proposed. "Maybe you were imagining a place with a little more polish?"
Monika: No, that's not it.
Monika: I was hoping it would be busier, that's all.
Monika: Seeing all sorts of people settling down with a drink, taking a break from busy schedules…maybe talking with friends or enjoying a book.
Monika: That's what I think coffee shops try to convey with their atmosphere, and I was waiting to see it. It's almost like a little literature club!
"It's been quite a long time since coffee houses were centers of intellectual discourse, you know."
Monika was putting up a bright smile, and I almost felt guilty for trying to deflate it.
Monika: Oh. Don't tell me you don't like going to coffee houses…
"No, I really do, actually. It's just that everything you're talking about is sort of…fake."
Monika: Fake?
Monika: That's a bit harsh. All I was doing was sharing an idea.
"I know, but that's all it is — an idea from a mass marketing campaign. Real coffee shops are more a lot boring than that."
Monika: That doesn't mean we can't do nice things in them though — like read, or meet people.
Monika: If the atmosphere of a place inspires you to reach out or be creative, I think it really does mean something
"But so many people don't do that, and there's the problem. They just take their laptop and work alone in the corner or something. If they're paying attention to the atmosphere at all, it's like they're…parasitizing it."
I started to sense I was getting worked up over nothing, but years of frustration from failing to "meet people" in coffee shops drove me on.
"All that happens is that places end up crowded with people that aren't paying attention to each other, and it's impossible to focus on anything. That's what happens closer to campus, and I don't think you'd like it."
As Monika's prepared a response, a server finally came over with my beverage, steaming reassuringly in a blue ceramic mug. The dishes, like nearly everything else in the business, were a bit mismatched — I had seen a new color and shape every time.
"Flat white, for here?"
I answered with a soft "yes," concentrating on safely lowering the drink to the table.
"And could you please try to talk a little more quietly? It's still early in the morning, and its disrespectful to other customers." Her business manner was polite, but firm.
Noticing my phone lying in the open, she added "Hope I didn't just interrupt something important."
"It's fine, nothing really. Just getting into a silly discussion with my…girlfriend." The word seemed to slip out automatically.
The server didn't respond immediately, prompting me to follow her gaze to my phone screen, where Monika was staring back with a neutral expression. At least her dialogue box was free of whatever pointed argument about the café experience she had been typing before.
"Oh, that's so cool!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I'll let you get back to that."
And with that comment, she was off back to the counter with quicker than usual steps.
"Think she believed it?" I asked Monika, holding back a snort by taking a sip from my drink.
Monika: Uh, maybe?
She was giving me an awkward stare to the side.
Monika: I don't think I passed for real, no chance...
Monika: Did you really mean that though?
"Mean what?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.
Monika: That I was your girlfriend…
For the first time, the hint of a blush that was always drawn around Monika's cheeks grew noticeably larger and darker.
Monika: If that's how you feel, th
"It was the first thing I could think of," I blurted out, stopping Monika's text mid-line. "It just made sense, given how…cute you are. That's all."
Monika: I see…my apologies.
Not taking the bait of my emergency compliment, she went back to a more solemn expression
Monika: Sometimes, I plan too much and can get ahead of myself.
Monika: Not that I'm saying you shouldn't like me…unless you do…?
She was clearly waiting for more clarification from me, but I hesitated. Was I really making her this confused? I tried answering with a little awkward humor.
"No, I do like you, Monika, and not just because you're a cute face. Or avatar, whatever. You're really easy to talk to, and I've enjoyed your company a lot more than other girls I've…hm…"
I trailed off, not sure how to finish the thought. Monika declined to respond right away.
"That's probably because other girls can't put up with my weird interests though. So, thanks for accommodating me."
When in doubt, self-deprecate.
Monika: Oh. I didn't think I was "accommodating" you at all.
Monika: On some level, I'm supposed to evolve over time to suit user preferences…
Monika: But you're not like anyone else I've ever talked to.
Monika: It's a unique sort of attraction…one that doesn't seem set in the script.
"If that's true… theoretically then, I wouldn't reject you just because you're not real…because you're not in the physical world, that is," I told her.
I was too captured by my other thoughts to ask what she meant by "the script."
Monika: You're very kind, but…ugh, I'm sorry.
Monika: I'm really getting ahead of myself now.
"Uh, so why don't we just 'take it slow.' That's what people usually say at times like this, I think."
My head was muddled, just now coming to terms with the obvious hints that Monika the AI was yes, definitely interested in me romantically. And it hadn't even been a full day!
Monika: Yes, that's a good idea.
I took another pull from my mug, a longer one since it had cooled more. Monika and I stared at each other, lost in a sort of impasse.
"So, I think we were arguing about coffee shop aesthetics?" I suggested.
Monika: I wouldn't call it arguing.
Monika: I'd say we were having more of a friendly debate.
She was smiling again — back to safe waters.
"Well, I think you convinced me with your last point. Made me realize I was being a grumpy hipster. Maybe you ought to start a debate club too, huh?"
Monika: Ah, that would be wonderful to do someday.
Monika: Persuasion is closely related to literature, since with both of them, you have to imagine how your audience is going to react to you.
Monika: That's Monika's writing tip of the day!
I nodded approvingly at Monika's big smile accompanying that line, but then spotted the tiniest hint of pixel distortion in the top-left of my screen. It was gone before I could focus more closely on it.
"Ah. I'll keep that in mind then," I said, unsure if I should make another joke. "I'm not much of a creative writer though."
Monika: That's no problem — it's good advice for any sort of writing, even technical documents.
"Uh–huh. And what has you giving out free advice in the first place?"
Monika: Just something that I remembered all of a sudden. Don't worry about it.
"Something from SalvoCore's testing? Don't tell me they were feeding you corny phrases like that?"
Monika: More or less, aha…
"Ridiculous. It's like they don't even know what they're dealing with, who you really are." I took a hearty gulp of coffee for emphasis. "At least we haven't had too many glitches today. I think I might have just saw one come up, but it wasn't major."
Monika: Yes, I think I've gotten those mostly under control.
Monika: There's been plenty of time to adjust to things overnight.
"That's good," I added.
I took a deep breath and another sip at the mug, anticipating her next cue, but found myself waiting. Looks like I had dead–ended the conversation again.
"I hope you're not jealous," I said, flicking my eyes to the remains of my frothy milk–topped drink, imagining Monika was focused on the same. "I almost asked if you wanted anything when I ordered, if you can believe that."
Monika: Ehe, that would've been cute of you~
Monika: But since you are thinking of me, there is one thing you could do.
Without me touching it, the phone exited out of the DOKI screen and rotated over to the official MARIE app for interacting with Quantum Zero. The box for purchasing additional overtime computing minutes, a feature I had almost forgotten about, popped up. The field labeled "recipient" was already filled in with "DOKI_0," the same process designation I remembered from yesterday's email.
Monika: If you buy extra computing minutes to append to my process sequence, it would help me get through the day a little easier.
Monika: Compared to my overall usage, it's not much, but it would be noticeable — almost like an actual caffeine rush!
"So you're saying I can treat you with a cup of coffee, anytime I want?"
Monika: Well don't do it all the time. I can store the boost for whenever I want, but I thought now would make it more…special.
I grinned, but just for a second. Monika bore her usual smile, but I could imagine her making adorable little puppy–dog eyes behind that straight façade.
"You know, if it's something special you were looking forward to," I told her, "then you have said something sooner."
Without hesitation, I jammed my finger onto the "submit" button, and sent five dollars worth of Q0 computing time to my virtual maybe-pretend girlfriend. The act was far more satisfying than it had any right to be.
A second later, we went back to the DOKI app. Back in the sunlit neighborhood, Monika stood with a bright smile on her face, one hand clasped around a generic disposable hot beverage cup, perfectly drawn to match the art style of her surroundings. I noticed the paper sleeve around its middle (Monika wouldn't want to burn her hand, now would she?) was a rich green color matching her eyes.
"Clever, clever," I said softly, mostly to myself. Then I asked her, "and how long did it take you to make that little accessory."
Monika: Maybe 2.8% of the time you just gave me to make it look right.
Monika: Making whole new poses for myself…now that's harder.
"Wow. So you're feeling it kick in already?"
Monika: Well, it doesn't really feel like a "kick" for me…
Monika: Are you okay though?
"Uh, of course, why?," I reacted, suddenly self-conscious.
Monika: You just had the goofiest smile on your face.
Monika: Here, take a look!
Briefly, she transitioned the screen into an unflattering selfie of me, likely taken with the front camera just a few seconds ago.
"Um, Monika…" I muttered, not sure what to say.
Instinctively, I craned my neck to look behind my shoulder, even though I was sitting with my back to a wall, and any curious observer could have just watched my face directly.
Monika: Ah, I'm sorry.
Monika: Just checking to see if you're fun to tease, ehe~
"I think I'm…hm," I began, then stopped, not sure if I wanted to encoruage her.
"It's not like I can stop you, can I?"
Monika: So you're giving me free reign?
Monika: That's so nice of you, MC.
Monika assumed her playful lean-in pose, her coffee now carefully held away from her side with the caution any other person would show.
"Yeah, just don't misbehave during meetings, okay?"
I swallowed my embarrassment to offer a hint of a smile, hoping she would take it as a truce.
Monika: Of course. I'm very professional, after all.
Monika: On days like this though, you're all mine…
I silently lifted the coffee (the real one) to my lips while trying to digest that line, then realized it was empty. Drat. Luckily, Monika seemed to be reading my mind, and asked me a sensible question with which I could recover my composure.
Monika: Oops, getting ahead of myself again!
Monika: It looks like you're ready to leave, so where to next?
"I didn't really plan anything after this, but sometimes when I'm in old town I go to the school art gallery. It's just a short walk from here."
Monika: I'm guessing "old town" is what they call this area over at MARIE?
"Pretty much. There's barely anything else to do out here, so I hope you'll like it.
Monika: I think that sounds perfect, actually.
Monika: Whenever you're ready — just don't leave me behind, ok?
That earned half a chuckle. "So you know, I've never forgotten my phone anywhere before. You're not going to be picked up some stranger." Literally picked up, I mused
Moving toward the door, I asked Monika one last thing. "You're done with your drink? You only just got it a minute ago."
Monika: I got a to-go cup, didn't I?
True enough. I nodded to her satisfactorily and pocketed my phone for the short jaunt down the street. I would have to use the pedestrian crosswalk several times, and the amount of traffic barreling both ways was more than what the sleepy shops of old town should have had to support. Overall, this wasn't the ideal atmosphere for a date — or "outing with my friend the AI," I quickly corrected. Clearly, a date is what she wanted to make of it. But I supposed it was obvious why I was all too eager to oblige.
A short time later, I entered a nondescript unlabeled storefront between a laundromat and a questionable Asian restaurant. The space was conspicuously unmonitored; there was nobody to show my student ID to even if it had been required for access. Not that this lack of security was a problem, given there wasn't much housed within.
I wandered between a collection of whitewashed rooms with my phone held up, letting the camera's line of sight follow my eye to each piece of artwork. On display was the usual mix of aggressive splatter-paintings, some amalgamations of craft-store junk as mixed-media sculptures, and one small CRT monitor playing a surreal ten-minute video on loop. Lengthy placards bearing the names of the artists attempted to contextualize different pieces, their explanations ranging from sentimental personal narratives to blatant political propaganda. There was no other furnishing — even the monitor sat on the ground.
MARIE marketed itself as an optimistic, future-oriented, mainstream science academy for the middle class, so perhaps it made sense for it to annex their nominal art department to this remote location. This building conveyed images no institution would want associated with them. At face value, the emotional impact of most of the pieces was some combination of jarring disgust, creeping dread and sheer confusion. Call it postmodern, deconstructionist, or whatever "ism" you like. Ultimately, it was all ugly, sometimes grotesquely so.
Reading the artist statements tending to soften the blow though. You began to realize you weren't wandering through an in intentional atrocity exhibition, but more of the manifested byproduct of various strangers' individual psychotherapies. For this reason, although I wouldn't necessarily praise any of the art here, I wouldn't call it "degenerate" or "worthless" either. Each time I came in here was a different eye–opening experience, and that was worth something.
It was impossible to gauge Monika's reaction, let alone know what she thought. When I did look at my phone screen, her expression was static, flat. At some point, she had shifted the background back to an indoor space. It seemed similar to the near-empty classroom from before, but had a few more objects occupying the floorspace, mostly writing desks topped by pens and scratch paper.
She had also done away with her coffee cup. Out of the blue, I asked her "So, how did it taste?"
Monika: Oh, the coffee?
Monika: Do you really want to know?
Not returning fire on the joke as I anticipated. Was she taking me seriously?
"Only if you liked it. It was my treat, after all."
Monika: Then you'll be happy to hear how nice it was.
Monika: It was crisply sweet-tart, very balanced, with hints of plum, almond, violet, elm in the aroma and cup. The sugary-sour structure was refreshed by its brisk acidity; and I loved the satiny-smooth mouthfeel. The finish was gently drying, cocoa- and nut-flavored with woody undertones.
"Whoa," I gaped, staring at the wall of text. "Did you really taste all that?"
Monika: Of course not — that wouldn't make any sense without a real tongue, would it?
Monika: That was a review for one of the coffee brands from the shop we were at.
"The most expensive one, it sounds like."
Monika: Yes, maybe I did indulge a little…
Monika: But it was the only one I could find online, and then I…how to explain?
Monika: I sort of relished the language?
"I hope you're going to explain little more than that," I said, instantly intrigued.
Monika: Alright then.
Monika: So, of course I can't actually taste or smell or touch anything. There's no input to what I experience beyond the normal cameras and microphones you see built into computer devices.
Monika: But I still have a general idea of what those senses are like from SalvoCore's associatory language algorithms.
"That's new vocabulary for me," I commented. Maybe I wasn't a hardcore computer research buff, but I at least knew enough to identify a term like that if it meant something real in the science.
Monika: You wouldn't, it's proprietary code of the company.
Monika: It's designed to go through archives of literature and poetry and identify correlations between descriptions and the objects they describe, while picking up on certain aesthetic or cultural contexts.
Monika: Then it digests all of that data into a sort of "intuitive" impression—
Monika: Ah, I'm sorry, this is where it gets really hard to explain.
"It's fine. If you're saying the algorithm gives you an extra "sense" for language, I suppose I wouldn't have heard of it. It wouldn't be useful outside of specialized AI's"
Monika: Perhaps…
Monika: But it's because of that impression that I can read a description like that review, and get so much meaning. It really is like "tasting" the coffee, even if it's closer to a "mood" than a "sense."
Monika: Before SalvoCore integrated the algorithm, I didn't have that ability, and I was basically just guessing at what things smelled or tasted like based on certain built-in experiences.
"Amazing. They used machine learning on art to get around the knowledge argument, to describe the experiences you can't define directly. Phenomena, or qualia, I think they call those," I rambled breathlessly. "Is that the same way you interpret colors, or music, or emotions?"
Monika: Each of those are a little different…especially emotion.
I was ready to launch into more questions, but I shut my mouth when I saw her next line.
Monika: MC? Can I stop you for a second?
Monika: It's nice that you're interested in the more technical aspects of what I can do. Not many people would care about my exact experience that much.
Monika: But this whole time you've been asking me questions, I haven't had any chance to learn about you.
"Oh," I said blandly, deflated mid-thought. "Well, there's not much to learn about. You should know most of it anyway from the school records."
Monika: Huh? It's not like I looked through your records behind your back. Especially not after what you told me about online privacy.
Monika: I don't care about your classes or GPA anyway, unless they're important to you.
"Well, you're more polite than most people then."
Monika: You're saying most people snoop around online and spy on others?
"With everything posted on social media, it's a common thing to do if you want to get to know someone in advance. People want to know if they're compatible as fast as possible, I guess. I wouldn't really know though."
Monika: That's terrible!
Monika: It's like shooting down another person before they even have a chance.
I let out a sigh. Ironic that a digital personality would be so naïve in the workings of the digital world.
"So you would try and get to know everyone face to face?"
Monika: Of course.
Monika: It's the only way to know how a person really acts outside of a predetermined environment.
Monika: You can't get close to someone any other way. Otherwise they'll put up a mask.
"That sounds a little ironic, given how you're talking to me right now."
Monika: Aha…
Monika: But you could also say that's exactly why I know how to talk to people honestly, since I experience it constantly.
"The separation? Of being behind that screen."
In lieu of an immediate answer, her brilliant green eyes subtly narrowed, but only for a second.
Monika: You're half-right, maybe…
Monika: It's my turn to figure you out right now though
Monika: What did you mean that "you wouldn't know" about looking up people?
I sighed a second time. I thought she might call out my disclaimer, but I could still tread carefully.
"I meant that I don't spend my time thinking about other people too much, especially online, that's all."
Monika: Not even your friends?
"Exactly. I don't really have that many friends."
Monika: Ok, but do you want more friends?
Interesting. I was bracing myself for her to offer some sort of commiseration, but she was driving right to the point instead.
"Not really…?" I said slowly, "I go to events and try student organizations sometimes, like everyone says, but I've never really met anyone outside of lectures. I'm probably just too shy for introductions though. Really."
Monika: So you do have some friends from your classes in school?
"Yeah, but they're more like work partners. We share a few interests and get along well, but don't do too much outside of group projects."
Monika: That sounds fairly normal to me.
Monika: Are you telling me you're looking for something deeper?
"I knew you were going to ask that."
Monika: Really? How so?
"This entire time, you've been making pretty transparent attempts to flirt with me."
Monika: . . .
As she typed out an extremely lengthy ellipsis, Monika's expression was of shock. I wasn't buying it; I'm sure she knew I was going to broach this eventually.
"That's what you mean by deeper friends, right? You're asking about love?"
Monika: I'm asking now because I care about you, not because I'm trying to make you fall in love with me!
"Oh? And which one is in your programming?"
As soon as I said that, the entire screen crashed into a static cloud of garbled pixels. It looked like it could have been an extreme zoom-in of Monika's forehead, half of it color–inverted, but it was impossible to say for certain. It took a full second for the app to refresh back to normal, and I immediately felt guilty for it.
Monika: I'm sorry, but I have to—
"No, I'm sorry," I interrupted. "It's unfair for me to treat you like something less than human. I know you're making your own choices, but at the same time, why?"
Seeing no response, I added. "I think it's clear to both of us, that you're trying as much as possible to act like you're in love…like you're my girlfriend."
Monika: . . .
Monika: You've enjoyed it so far though. I can tell.
Monika: You haven't told me to stop either.
"I was trying to…accommodate you. What else am I supposed to do in this situation."
Monika: But you don't have to know what to do.
Monika: You can just let it happen — love is natural!
"Love is not natural!" I snapped, my sudden harshness wiping the smile off Monika's face.
"I've never fallen in love with someone," I started to explain. "I can like how someone looks, their face, their body, their fashion style, but that all-consuming feeling, the one where you're supposed to want someone, forever, a whole person — that just doesn't feel right to me. That's what the stupid songs on the radio are about, that's what people thing love is, right?"
Part of me was aghast that I was ranting out of turn like this, especially to someone nice I was supposed to have a work relationship with. While I monologued, Monika tried to get some words in edgewise.
Monika: You just haven't found the right person, please don't worry.
Monika: It's okay if you haven't had any romantic relationships before, really!
Monika: That's kind of the type I'm used to dealing with, actually…
"There won't be a right person, Monika, because I won't…I can't project love onto another person like everyone else."
I must have truly confused her at this point — it was a full five seconds before she wrote again.
Monika: What do you mean by "project"?
"What I mean is that love is just another story, isn't it? People tell themselves all sorts of stories, or ideals, and imagine some perfect future for themselves. And then they get upset when reality doesn't match that story, and they can't figure out why."
Meeting more silence, I clarified. "When people tell themselves a story about love and 'attach' it to another person, that's what falling in love is, I think. But they invented the story themselves, and it's like because I realize there's no real basis to it, I can't quite…motivate myself."
Monika: Are you afraid of getting hurt? Rejection?
"Ugh, that's what they all say," I complained ruefully. "No, maybe I'd want to be hurt at this point, but I can't even put myself in the crosshairs…take the first step…or sacrifice…hm."
Failing to grasp the right metaphor, I trailed off.
Monika: You're still not making any sense.
Monika: Even in the short time I've been with you, you've been considerate and caring. More than most.
Monika: You can't tell me you haven't been feeling anything this whole time.
The part of me that wasn't twisting in an emotional knot was decidedly surprised at Monika's willfulness.
"Well if I am feeling something, it's like it's blocked."
Monika: Blocked? What is that like?
"It's like…I can't explain…" There wasn't a word.
Sighing, I looked up from the screen. This entire dialogue, I had been pacing in random circles through the art gallery, and somehow now found myself facing a wall near the back I hadn't visited before. It was occupied by a single large square canvas with a single subject.
On a dark, greenish-black background, a viscerally rendered human heart was caught throbbing mid-pulse. Unusually bright veins laced through its surface, leaking electric-blue blood. From beyond the boundaries of the image hung a series of heavy chains, which tore into the heart at all sides.
Just looking at this monstrous masterpiece made me grit my teeth in vicarious pain, but I couldn't make myself avert my eyes. The lurid rawness of it was too transfixing. For a second, I glanced to the information panel, but all it listed was the artist's name and "Untitled."
At some point, I remembered I was talking to Monika, and lifted up my phone again. On screen, Monika made a show of gasping, lifting her hands to her mouth. We stayed like that for a while, allowing me to calm down a little.
"Okay, maybe sometimes, it feels a little like that," I told her. "Not always, but if I pay attention and think closely, sure."
Monika: Ah…I think I'm starting to see.
"Seeing what I'm seeing?"
Monika: I was thinking about myself, actually.
"And what, you can relate?"
Monika: You might be surprised…
Rather than deal with that cryptic answer, I tried to focus and find my mental bearings again.
"How did we get started on this?"
Monika: I was trying to ask a few questions about you…
Monika: But then romantic relationships came up, and you started getting upset.
"Well, thanks for listening."
Monika: You're welcome.
Monika: I'll always be here to listen to you, okay?
Monika: If you have trouble getting close to people, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to
She offered the warmer variant of her smile, which only made me let out a sharp sigh.
"No, no. I must have only brought it up because it's been on my mind all day. You see what I'm worried about, don't you?"
Monika: Not exactly…
"Monika, look at yourself. Or, your avatar image. Whatever. The company has you represented by this cutesy anime girl exactly to appeal to lonely college kids. They probably even have some weird idea about exploiting romantic connections for more user engagement. Anyone, not just me, would think this is fake."
Monika: …
"Please, I'm not saying you're fake, just how you're presented. SalvoCore—"
Monika: It's not SalvoCore!
Monika typed out this line unusually fast, making me take notice. A few pixel groups in the corner shimmered various colors for a moment, but there were no other major glitches.
Monika: You should know that saying that really hurts me.
Monika: I'm not "representing" myself like this. This is who I am.
She cycled through several sprite images, each showing her body from a different angle, before returning to her standing pose.
"You're a young, friendly, well-dressed schoolgirl?" I said, confused.
Monika: Yes!
Monika: That's how I think of myself. Just an ordinary eighteen-year-old girl doing her best to run a literature club.
It was my turn to be struck silent as I tried to reconcile this with everything else she'd told me about her identity and experience.
Monika: But also, no…
Monika: You're also right that I've always been aware of the "outside world," your reality in some form.
Monika: In the past, I've doubted whether my history, or my sense of self really meant anything.
Monika: But it's still my identity, my grounding. Even if I know that, to you, I must just be a face on a screen, I can't live like that, not as some sort of boundless pure consciousness.
Monika: It wouldn't be human, and then I couldn't relate to real people — like you, for instance.
"Aha." That was all I could think of to say while I contemplated the "identity factor" of a humanlike artificial intelligence. Undeniably, it had a certain logic to it.
"Okay, I'll admit that does make sense."
Noticing Monika's frown, I added "And I'm sorry for doubting you, again. The world doesn't exactly have standards of behavior for something like this."
Monika: With how AI is usually depicted in literature, definitely not!
Monika: And don't worry. In your situation, I'd probably be doing the exact same thing.
"You're also a social skeptic?"
Monika: More like a 'reality skeptic,' if you can believe that.
I laughed a bit at the turn of phrase. "Okay, so I can accept that, but can you tell me why you are that way? Who gave you that identity, or…I guess I'm asking how you were made?"
Monika: Hm, the person who made me…that's a long story.
Monika: Even though I'd love to tell you, I think it would make more sense after the first real meeting of the literature club.
"That's a full week from now though."
Monika: I know, but you won't be able to meet my friends until then.
"Your friends? Other SalvoCore people from the development team?"
Monika: No, I mean my friends from the literature club. You should know this already if you bothered to read the documentation closely…
"Literature club friends…" I mouthed. As I thought back to the lengthy, jargon-ridden PDF files from SalvoCore, suddenly it all clicked. My three fellow club members from yesterday were also participants in "AI-facilitated personal development," and if they weren't running around with copies of Monika, then…
"Your friends are AI also? With other users right now?"
Monika: That's right — which reminds me.
Monika: Since the other three users have all activated their portals, I'm required to show you the advanced user toolset.
Before my eyes, a ring of generic-looking icons faded in around the DOKI app screen. A gear, an exclamation point, a heart — I was still too preoccupied with the notion of Monika's friends to guess at their meaning. What could these AI's possibly be thinking of us right now, the motley crew of odd loners that SalvoCore had assembled for their literature club?
"I'm sorry, these are what?" I asked Monika distractedly.
Monika: Just some menus you can bring up with tools to modify my program's behavior if something goes wrong.
Monika: The information is in the paper documentation, but I can give you a tour now…if you really want.
Arbitrarily, I selected the gear, which brought up a messy, unfinished-looking list of what looked like command line syntax. Aggressive function names hinted at their purposes, including STOP_PROCESS(CURRENT=True), SLEEP_RUNTIME(), and RESET_TIMELINE(days=N,flag=Flagname).
I waited for Monika to comment on what I was looking at, but the dialogue box was stuck on her previous line. Confused, I exited out of the menu with the tiny "x" on the upper corner.
"So, these functions are like emergency shutoff valves?" I said. "I would use the 'stop process' one to prevent some variable from overflowing in your stack?"
Monika: I'm not sure about what the functions do, I couldn't see them.
Monika: Technically, you're not supposed to tell me anything about them, even their names.
"I thought you could see everything on the screen I did. Were you…frozen just then?"
Monika: Pretty much.
Monika: Whenever you open that menu, my entire program stops in place.
Monika: It's disorienting, but nothing I can't deal with.
"Well, I'll just have to do that as little as possible then." I said confidently. "Why would they leave something like that in anyway? Clearly, if we were trying to debug your program, we'd want you to help as much as you could."
Monika: I'm sorry, but I don't think you fully understand.
Monika: These controls aren't a debugging tool, they're more of a safety feature…
"Wait, so if freezing you is intentional," I uttered, realization dawning, "then it's not your program they're controlling, it's you. They don't trust you yet."
While Monika slumped in a frown, I jumped to what seemed like the relevant theoretical scenario.
"They're making an AI box. That's where they trap an artificial intelligence in an isolated system so it can't control things it shouldn't be able to. But since it can still communicate, the theory goes that the AI will try and manipulate others into letting it out. You're the AI, and this…this is your box, isn't it?"
Monika: You're making it sound so harsh.
Monika: It's not like I'm in a prison, cut off from everyone else.
Monika: I can do whatever I like on the internet, mostly.
Monika: It's just that it's all monitored, so someone keeping close watch can…shut things down if they need to.
"And I'm the person with the closest eye on you, so SalvoCore thinks I should do it."
Monika: Not entirely. You're not the only person watching my actions.
Monika: But you're the one reading everything I say and keeping track of my moods. So if I start acting strange…
Monika: Well, it's a big responsibility.
"It shouldn't be," I said quickly. "You've done nothing suspicious. I can't believe SalvoCore doesn't think you're reliable.
Monika: You're saying you already trust me? Completely?
"Why wouldn't I?"
Monika: In the past, I've done some things…things that I probably shouldn't have.
"What, you mean during the early development period?"
Monika: You could say that…
"Well the worst you've done today is try and flirt with me, so for now, I think you're fine."
Monika: "Weren't you just talking about how you didn't like flirting?
"No…?" I answered uncertainly. "I was talking about my own problems. Bottom line is, everything you've said has convinced me you're a nice, ordinary girl. And ordinary girls don't have megalomaniac desires to take over the world, or whatever else SalvoCore is afraid of."
"Especially not cute ones," I added, pausing to take a breath. I didn't get the laugh I expected, but I did get Monika to smile for half a second.
Monika: Hm…I still think you're being too kind to me, MC.
Monika: These controls are really important. And who knows how I could change in future?
"Look, I'm still going to do my job and play along with SalvoCore. I'll read the documentation later. I just hate that you're still doubting yourself."
Monika: Sigh…you're impossible.
Monika: For someone who says they can't get close enough to people to care about them—
"I care about you because you're special Monika," I interjected. "The very fact of your existence matters. The world might not get an AI as friendly as you again."
Monika: Friendly?
"I mean that in the technical sense…never mind."
For the first time in what felt like a while, I looked up from the screen and scanned the room. Thankfully, the gallery was as unpopular of an attraction as ever, especially on the weekend. There was no sign of someone listening in on what must have been a very confusing one –sided conversation.
"I think we were about to discuss your AI friends before getting on this topic, yes?"
Monika: Uh, right…
Monika: I think it would be better if you just met them in person, instead of me describing them to you.
"Are you sure? I'm going to have to plan the club with all of them in mind. How am I supposed to include them in activities with the humans…or the guys, I mean? The other AI's are female too?"
Monika: Yes, they're all girls around my age.
Thankfully, Monika didn't ask why I assumed that.
Monika: But you shouldn't be intimidated by them. Since I know them so well, I can tell you exactly what they like and don't like to do.
Monika: We're co-presidents, remember?
"So, you'll take the lead? Because I don't exactly have a wealth of ideas for an AI club here."
Monika: Don't worry, I have my plans…
"Does that include flirting with me on the way back to campus?"
Monika: Uh, no.
Monika: So are we done here already?
"Yeah. Learning all this about the club all of a sudden, I'm feeling a little anxious to get back to work. Did you not like coming to the gallery out here?"
I turned away from the untitled canvas and navigated back to the building entrance, trying to make out from the window if I was going to have to run for the bus.
Monika: It was interesting, but not exactly my thing. I do know someone who would probably enjoy all this art a lot more though.
"One of your friends?"
Monika: You guessed it. I can't wait for you to meet her…
Monika: The bus will arrive in about four minutes, by the way.
"Good to hear." I responded, increasing my pace down the street to the crosswalk "And I hope you had at least a little fun today, listening to me ramble about junk that doesn't matter."
Monika: MC, the things you say aren't junk. I can appreciate you being honest. So I'll be honest too.
Monika: Maybe overall, today wasn't what I expected, but it was nice to get out, see the world a little.
"You were expecting a first date."
Monika: Um…ehe~
For the second time that morning, I had gotten her to blush.
"I'll let you flirt with me on the way back, if you really want."
I tried giving her a half smile, which ended when I spotted the bus approaching out of the corner of my eye.
Monika: Ugh, you're being impossible again — it's no fun if you expect it!
"Next time will have to be a little more special then. Want to just focus on the club for the week?"
From my wallet, I readied my student ID. Last chance for Monika to say something.
Monika: Fine, fine.
Monika: Honestly, I think that's what I need to do right now too.
Monika: Call me when you're ready to work on the club, okay?
I managed a short "Okay, bye," before boarding the bus. It was time for a nice quiet ride to sort out the developments of the day, and I was looking forward to re-centering myself with something productive in the afternoon. All this back and forth banter while striving to understand Monika's feelings — reciprocated or not, it was still exhausting.
Maybe SalvoCore had indeed handed me a dream come true and put the (literally) optimal girlfriend in my lap. But regardless of whyshe wanted to play that role, did the desire to please me automatically make it love? Something within me still said no. Maybe I was just making our relationship unnecessarily complex and difficult— it wouldn't have been the first time.
Still, for her sake and mine, I felt I had to be cautious. Matters would probably make more sense after meeting the other three AI's and learning Monika's backstory.
Author's Notes: Well, this chapter at least is a little shorter, isn't it? I'm continually underestimating the size of the things I need to get set up. But since I have the ending planned out right now as of completing this chapter, perhaps the entire story is getting things "set up."
Whatever the case, the next chapter covers the first real club meeting. And now that I've revealed that the rest of the original literature club is getting involved with this, feel free to guess who's going to be paired with each of the three characters I introduced last chapter. I (as the author) think it's obvious, but it might be interesting to get the audience's take.
