Chapter 11

The news services called it an industrial accident. A software glitch in a high-tech work environment caused the deaths of two men. There were no follow-up interviews. No intrepid investigative reporters snuck back to tease out the truth. The rogue drone attacks in Louisville, Kentucky, were too recent and still held the nation’s attention.

It had been a long five days since the incident. Fighting with management to keep the computers off-line and then dealing with the investigators. Answering the same questions time and time again. Now, Jason Thomas sat in the third-floor conference room, waiting for his turn with Human Resources.

The door swung open, and a woman he remembered from shared elevator rides stepped inside.

“I’m Amanda Pierce,” she announced while flashing her red-striped identification badge, “HR Generalist. Thank you for waiting, Mr. Thomas.” Authority established; Amanda slipped her badge back into a jacket pocket. Which was odd. Jason wore his on a lanyard around his neck, just like the employee handbook required.

“Hello,” Jason said. He hadn’t had a choice. In light of the incident, the company decided to kill Project Michael. If he wanted his severance, he had to play along. Still, it didn’t hurt to be polite. “What’s going to happen?”

“Well, Mr. Thomas, once we have your statement, you’ll be free to sign the nondisclosure agreement, and...” Amanda fumbled with an old-fashioned paper legal pad and ink pen. “Everything is so awkward with the computers on lockdown.” She found the right page, and her corporate smile returned. “After you sign the NDA, you’ll receive your generous severance package.”

Jason Thomas took a sip of coffee; funny how the caffeine seemed to calm his nerves. On the other side of the soundproof glass, inside the lab proper, a trio of FBI technicians studied the computer logs. He wished them luck. Michael’s self-written machine code defied understanding.

“What do you want to know?” he asked. Thinking about the incident almost brought the shakes back.

Amanda sat her notepad on the table and readied a pen. “What part,” she waved towards the lab, “did you have in all this?”

The red stripe on the generalist’s badge indicated a Top-Secret clearance. Many of his recent arguments had been with non-cleared staff. No one wanted to accept “Because I said so.” as a legitimate reason to keep the servers offline. “I created the zero-lag code.”

“What did you call it?” For a moment, Amanda’s pleasant facade slipped, revealing the distrustful, corporate drone beneath.

HR, you never fail to disappoint. “It’s a special software package. I authored my thesis on it. It allowed the AI to operate across portions of the network with high latency.”

Lips tight, Amanda Pierce glowered across the table. “Mr. Thomas, I realize I’m not a software engineer, but even an HR generalist knows about lag. Lag is better described as network latency. It isn’t something software can bypass.”

Jason nodded to acknowlege her point. “It depends. My zero-lag code uses spread-spectrum data modulation. It bypasses the tuning delays of heterodyning in favor of direct RF conversion, just like software-defined radio. With my code, we can transfer a great deal of data in a short amount of time. If you prefer, think of it as a bandwidth multiplier.” Jason matched her distrustful frown with an earnest smile.

“Okay,” she said, although a hint of suspicion remained. “Let’s start with the morning of the incident. According to the guard’s log, you signed in a few minutes late.”

He resisted an urge to sigh. Trust HR to focus on his tardiness. “An accident on I-279 had me behind schedule...” Six wrecked vehicles and a fire engine pumping suppression foam onto the exposed fuel cells closed the left two lanes. Passing rubberneckers slowed traffic to a crawl.

“Then, I had to park in the back row...”

Turning off Second Avenue, Jason settled for a back-row parking spot. Grabbing his messenger bag and mobile phone, he jogged to the entrance. Only four stories tall, his employer’s building presented a dull face to the world. Who would have thought a revolution in artificial intelligence had taken place here in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania?

“Both elevators were in use, so I used the stairs...”

At the third-floor landing, Jason huffed to a stop. I need to start jogging again. He straightened his shirt and stepped into the hallway. And ran into another delay. Per the security rules, no devices with active internet connections were allowed inside the lab. On a typical day, he’d store his phone inside one of the provided metal lockers. Hhowever, with the visitors on-site, there were no empty lockers. That meant a return to the first floor to have Security lock his phone up. He was already late. The hell with it, I’ll slip out after the presentation and secure my phone later. Until then, it would be safe inside his desk.

A furious tapping brought Jason back to the present. The “friendly” HR rep waited until she regained his attention. “According to the other survivors, Director Curley changed the presentation. Do you know why?”

“The customer wanted a demonstration of Michael’s ability to sanction a specific target. We’d already run dozens of simulations, and the director thought it a safe bet. Besides, with the lab’s shielding, no one expected anything crazy to happen.”

“It did, though.”

“Yeah,” Jason took another sip of coffee.

“And Michael didn’t give any sign of his...” The generalist waved a hand to indicate her lack of a word.”

“His upcoming mutiny? Heck, do we even have a word for a computer program gone rogue?” Jason shook his head. “To answer your question, no, not at all. Michael was its usual snarky self. For the presentation, it emulated the voice of Hal 9000.”

Amanda might be a top-flight HR generalist, but she wasn’t a fan of old science fiction films. When her eyes narrowed, Jason hurried and explained the reference. “An old 2D movie, 2001: A Space Odyssey. One of the characters is an AI named Hal 9000.”

“Why would he...” Amanda frowned and corrected herself. This artificial intelligence did not have a gender. “Why would it mimic a fictional AI’s voice?”

“Why? Look, Michael always had an attitude. If you consider its purpose, it makes a lot of sense. It enjoyed making squishies—Michael’s own term for humans—look ineffective and stupid. If the customer didn’t ‘get’ the Hal 9000 joke, Michael won.”

Amanda shook a cramp out of her hand, then grumbled and continued scribbling. She caught up and waved to Jason. “Let’s move up to the actual demonstrations. How did they begin?”

Pausing to take another sip of coffee, Jason closed his eyes and leaned back. He’d already gone over this several times for the investigators. “Director Curley and the customer ... discussed the request.” It hadn’t been an argument, not precisely. “In the end, the lead rep volunteered himself as the target. The director gave Michael the necessary commands.”

Jason remembered it perfectly. “Within seconds of the authorization, the conference room door swished open. One of Michael’s drones zipped inside and launched a foam dart. The non-lethal foam projectile struck the target’s head and scored a “kill. The drone spun about and buzzed out of the room.

“Those who’d never seen Michael in action freaked out. Two even screamed. Then everyone had a chuckle.” The type of laugh survivors enjoy. “One of the screamers even excused himself to the bathroom.”

“Discussions began. Some of the reps thought the test had been too easy and demanded a repeat, only with the target hidden. They really wanted to know if Michael was capable of locating such a target.

“Director Curley admitted our testing hadn’t progressed to hidden targets. He shrugged and agreed it wouldn’t hurt to try. We did our best to limit CYBERCOM’s expectations, but there was a shared sense of adventure. The target donned a pair of safety glasses and moved to the space behind the door.” Jason pointed to the spot, and Amanda visibly shivered.

“Once again, the director ordered Michael to terminate the target.

“The door opened, and a drone zipped inside. It scanned the room, then snap-yawed one-hundred and eighty degrees. Without pause, it shot its target right between the eyes. Compared to the first attack, this one took an additional four seconds.

“Excited with Michael’s success, the CYBERCOM reps huddled together. They debated another trial and how they might increase the difficulty. Those of us on Director Curley’s staff thought we’d gone far enough and suggested a break. The customer insisted on one more test.”

Amanda’s furious scribbling gave Jason a reason to stop talking. He pushed his chair back and stepped across to the window. Across Second Avenue, traffic flowed through the neighborhood of South Oakland. When the scratching stopped, he turned and shrugged. “What could we do? The customer’s always right, right?”

Amanda shook her head and readied her pen.

Jason stood and stepped to the corner beside the window. Outside, a van emblazoned with the logo of a local news service pulled up to the building. He put the van out of his mind and concentrated on telling the story. “This time, the target stood right here, with his people between him and the door. The director issued another kill order, and we waited.

“The door opened, and all three of Michael’s drones swarmed in. Like before, everything happened crazy fast. Two of the drones zoomed in close. They used their unshrouded rotor blades like buzz saws. Three of the human shields ducked away with nicked hands or arms.

“One rep, a big burly guy, picked up a chair to swat his tormentor. The drone dodged to the side, then zipped in and fired its foam projectile. Whether intentional or not, the dart struck the big guy in the eye. At that range, even a safe dart could hurt.

“Director Curley ordered Michael to break off its attack.

“Michael replied. ‘Yes, sir!’ The drones fell back into formation. Then like a troop of soldiers, they dressed ranks and whirled from the room.

Several of the CYBERCOM reps sustained cuts. The big guy with the chair held a hand over his eye. Per protocol, we called security. They transported the injured reps to Magee Hospital. The lead rep remained on-site in close conference with the director. I believe they discussed Michael’s other capabilities.”

Amanda set her pen down. “Did anyone suspect anything? Was there any indication Michael wasn’t finished?”

“Oh, hell no. After security called and said the CYBERCOM reps were on the way back from the hospital, we broke for lunch. The director and the lead rep walked out to the elevators together. I would have been with them, but I stopped to pick something up from my office. As I exited the lab, one of the big cleaning bots rolled past. The elevator door opened, and the bot switched into high gear. It plowed into Director Curley and the lead customer rep. All three toppled into the elevator shaft, and the door closed behind them.” “What did you do then?”

“I walked into the lab and pulled Michael’s plug.”

Amanda crossed her arms. “Two men were just murdered, and you walked to the plug?”

“Ms. Pierce, if I had run, Michael might have triggered on me! Look, the cleaning bots aren’t on the lab’s network. Somehow, despite all our precautions, it got out. I called security, and they pulled the breakers for the entire building. Only then did we call for help.”

The finally frightened HR representative turned to the soundproof glass wall and stared across the lab. The racks of deactivated computers loomed like a row of blunted teeth. Fear forced an honest question out of her. “H-how do you know it didn’t get out-out?” Amanda waved towards the outside window.

“Michael requires high-speed, high-bandwidth connectivity. Breaching the lab’s network must have pushed its capabilities to the limit. Even with my special software, he—it couldn’t have gone far.”

With a barely suppressed shudder, Amanda slid a slip of paper across the table. “Thank you, Mr. Thomas. If you sign this NDA, I’ll call corporate and authorize the severance.”

Of course, no HR hosted, exit interview was complete without an escort to the front door. Amanda called the front desk, but both security guards were tied up deflecting an invasive news crew. “Very well,” she shook her head and hung up. Turning to Jason, she said, “Give me your badge, Mr. Thomas. I’ll see you to the door.”

Inside the elevator, Amanda committed another security violation and slipped her badge into the card reader. The card reader activated an express mode reserved for emergencies. Using it for convenience was a written warning level violation.

The elevator doors opened to a shouting match on the first floor. A reporter demanded information regarding a secret “Michael Project.” The guards demanded the news crew vacate the premises.

Amanda strode into the maelstrom, leaving her badge in the reader. Jason followed, but on a whim, pocketed the HR generalist’s badge. He’d return it to her at the door. Maybe add a snarky comment.

The news crew, seeing a woman in upscale office attire, turned on the her. The reporter shoved a microphone in Amanda’s face and shouted. “Do you work with Jason Thomas?”

Instead of denying all knowledge, Amanda’s already shaky control slipped. She pointed at Jason.

Jason didn’t want anything to do with the press. His severance package was on the line. For the low, low price of complete silence, his former employer paid a full year’s salary and covered his Medicare payments. If he violated the terms of his NDA, the severance was forfeit. The penalties increased if he revealed any classified information.

Triumphantly, the reporter asked, “How does it feel, Mr. Thomas, to have saved the world?”

Jason smiled broadly for the camera and said, “No comment.” He kept saying “No Comment” all the way to his truck.

After Jason arrived home, he learned a few of his former coworkers had already talked. The first whiffs of the story showed up on 4chan of all places, the never-quite-dead asshole of the internet. From there, the story migrated to Reddit, where it gained a measure of credibility. Well-read Redditors discussed the dangers of rogue artificial intelligence.

Most people had never heard about a technological singularity. With the video of Jason looping in the background, the evening news team explained the dangers. Suppose a fully self-aware and self-programming AI got loose. In that case, it might upgrade its capabilities until it surpassed humanity’s capability to stop it. Such an entity may not be friendly to humans. Pundits compared a potential AI takeover to the previous century’s near civilization-ending climate-crisis.