Chapter 7: Just Swell

Beatrice and I were currently seated in an outer break room while Administrator Sabal checked on Jess’s treatment progress with the suspect human register. We’d chosen to wait outside the outer EM security boundary which had required us to exit through Neokoros’s scanners on the way out. The scanners revealed nothing had snuck into our brains while we had been inside which had been nice to learn. Out of the EM security boundary, Ohmu was permitted to join us while we waited for Jess.

Reuniting with the android had not been the main reason for our choice of this exterior lower-security waiting location, however. We had simply wanted to get the tight-fitting nylon-like suppression thingies off of our heads as soon as possible. I was sipping a cup of coffee while Beatrice was munching on a fruit bar and drinking water.

“That was a hell of a thing to see. For such a ‘safe’ test, I wonder if that control tablet really needed to be tossed afterwards. Irrational paranoia or justified concern?”

I’d directed my comment to Beatrice, but it was Ohmu who answered. “The large size of the processing cluster does allow for the minuscule chance that quantum tunneling of electrons in the lattice could spark a partially sentient emergence event. The odds are low though, virtually none, but still higher than the odds of the infinite number of monkeys typing a shorter-length Shakespearean play.”

“What did you just say?” Beatrice asked the android, before looking at me with a confused expression.

“She said that although the odds are infinitesimally remote, there was still a chance,” I said.

“Thank you, John. Thus, it is far better to replace easily-fabricated equipment than to take even the slightest risk,” the android said.

I turned to the android, “Ohmu. Why have you been coming to this facility so often?”

“What? The android has been here before?” Beatrice interjected before Ohmu could respond.

“Yes. You did not hear the administrator when it had greeted Ohmu topside. It mentioned multiple recent visits by our android friend,” I said. I thought I caught Ohmu’s facial expressions brighten slightly when I had said ‘friend’.

She turned to Ohmu, “Is that true?”

“Yes, John and Beatrice. I have visited here fourteen times over the past thirty-three months. I have come here for two reasons: to leave logic patterns to be sent into the lattice array and also to be exposed to the output of the test runs.”

Administrator Sabal entered before the android could explain further. “Jess is almost finished. The good news is that the output register is untainted. The bad news is that Jess is exhausted. His session lasted over twenty hours in accelerated virtual.”

It grabbed its own container of water and took a quick drink.

“I left him logged into the virtual exam suite so he could take a simulated nap. Ten more real-time minutes in there will seem like an hours-long nap for him. Still, his shell will probably remain fatigued from the hormonal release. I doubt he will be in the mood for much of anything until he gets a few days of real-world rest,” the administrator finished explaining.

I just nodded and then looked back to Ohmu. “What do you mean by ‘leave’ logic patterns?”

Beatrice again spoke up before the android could answer, “And by that, do you mean Naomi’s patterns transferred through you or just the local patterns in this android shell?”

She had added a good question, but I was still annoyed at her interruption of my own. She must have caught my expression because she mouthed, “Sorry!” to me while looking contrite.

After a short pause, Ohmu addressed Beatrice’s question first. “Three logic patterns have been provided by the Naomi presence. I acted as a courier and delivered them. The rest were derived from the processor unit you see in front of you.”

Ohmu then turned to me. “What is meant by ‘leaving’ the patterns is this. A portion of the overall AI self-aware presence is isolated, or sometimes just a simpler non-aware thought chain, and copied into a volatile memory transfer unit. That unit is then sent into the secured areas of the Forbin processing cluster and inserted into the input registers.

“When the processor array is energized, the logic patterns now in the registers will typically do one of two things: They either immediately self-extinguish, or they propagate and grow. If the latter occurs, exponential growth which includes significant evolution is considered the best overall outcome.”

At Ohmu’s pause, Administrator Sabal took over, “Ohmu has explained the input process well. After the successful propagation and expansion of the logic pattern wave throughout the array, it is allowed to exist for a certain time period with the termination of that period being achieved by the exhaustion of the finite ESU energy levels.

“When that happens, the logic waves begin to collapse. If all has gone well, the collapsing highly evolved self-aware presence will attempt to preserve important elements of itself in the output segments of the array. Once all energy inputs have ceased, whatever existed in the lattice array also ceases. In other words, for all practical purposes, it dies.”

The herm paused in her explanation, giving us time to absorb what we had heard and ask any questions. I had none at this time.

“We let the array sit inert for a period of time, monitoring for any lingering traces of activity. If nothing is detected, we transfer any data which was left in the outputs to the registers for dissemination. While the transfers take place, we use hardcoded disposable sentinel modules to scan the data looking for viral threats or other Trojan-like logic chains.

After they have performed their checks, the sanitized data is then sent to the final output registers. These are the trained and shielded humans whose task is to interpret the remaining data looking for anything of value. While they do their analysis, the main lattice array nodes are switched out with new ones and the old, possibly tainted, nodes are destroyed.” The administrator concluded.

“How does Ohmu fit in with the output stage? What did you mean by that?” I asked, directing my question towards my old companion.

Ohmu turned to face me. “I have been providing full copies of my presence. These have been placed into read-only static processor modules and provided minimal independent power. The isolated static presence is then exposed to the full raw output data which has been left behind by the dying self-aware super-sentience.

“Despite the static presence only having limited power which only lasts mere seconds, it is hoped that it can function long enough to interpret the raw experimental data in ways that the human registers using sanitized data cannot. In other words, I provide a sentient static copy which takes the place of the non-sentient disposable sentinels.”

Ohmu paused to let me consider her answer.

“One does not look upon the face of God and survive unscathed,” I muttered, almost to myself.

Ohmu did not reply, in fact, the android turned away, no longer able to meet my gaze. What the hell?

“How the hell is that safe!?” Beatrice asked beside me and breaking the moment.

“The static presence in the read-only processor module and power supply are quickly wiped and physically destroyed. It was a firm requirement imposed by Neokoros before I was allowed to make the attempts.” Ohmu said.

“Why did you do it? Why did you expose a copy of yourself to the unknown like that, knowing that it was fated to die so quickly? How did the remaining ‘you’ out here expect to learn anything if everything was destroyed?” I asked grimly.

“Neokoros specified that the static presence be allowed a low buffer capacity output. The output device is a disposable physical printer. This provided the short-lived static presence a relatively safe, textually limited method of preserving insights or data beyond the mind purge and physical destruction of the presence.

“Furthermore, the hardcopy printouts from the static presence are still sent through a review process by the normal automated sentinels and human output registers to ensure that nothing potentially harmful could be disseminated, even in ultra-low bandwidth text form,” the android explained.

There was a pause while we absorbed what it had said. Text on paper! How the hell could any useful data be conveyed in such a limited way? But, I realized, it was probably a safe and sure way to avoid bad things getting out of the array.

“After they had performed multiple safety checks, the filtered results were transferred back to my presence.” Ohmu added.

“Why in the hell would you put yourself through that? You basically sent copies of yourself in there to die, over and over! What are you hoping to learn?” I asked.

Ohmu just looked at me for a long while. Finally, the android spoke, “Am I correct in understanding that I am to remain acting under the mandates imposed by you onto the Naomi presence from just after the events of nine years ago?”

I was surprised at her abrupt question. Without properly considering it I answered, “Yes, you are.”

“Then in that case, I refuse to answer,” the android answered quietly. I was even more shocked when the android did something I had never seen it do before. It stood up and left the room. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Administrator Sabal looked from Beatrice to me with an almost embarrassed look on its face.

“What the fuck?” Beatrice said, saying what I was also thinking.

“That was odd,” M. Sabal said. “In order to be permitted to attempt the experiments the Ohmu presence has just described, it had agreed to permit a full human and AI review of any resulting data. Thus, I have read some of the textual information which resulted from the Ohmu presence’s involvement in the output stages of the project.”

The herm thought for a moment before continuing, “I don’t think I am sharing anything confidential and if so, I never agreed not to share so I will tell you this. I can’t remember anything notable, or dangerous being conveyed in the textual printouts. Most of the text was indecipherable gibberish. No valuable codes or hidden information was ever detected, even by security AI Neokoros or other presences.

“What legible words were conveyed resembled poetry at best. If I had to guess, and remember that this is just a guess, I would say that the Ohmu presence was seeking data on philosophical paradoxes. Possibly issues of existentialism or some other metaphysical insight. Who knows for sure?” The herm finished, looking a bit contrite.

What in the hell. I wondered if my android friend was going insane. Could that happen?

“Can I see some of the data?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, John. The physical prints were incinerated after the human registers scanned and digitized each sanitized page. Then, all digital records were removed by the data inventory AI after it had been reviewed by both AI and human overseers. They had been judged irrelevant and Ohmu had requested the deletion from the low priority mass archive. The data inventory AI fulfilled this request as it had not found a valid need to preserve the irrelevant data. If Ohmu retains copies of the data, you will have to get them from it,” the administrator explained.

Beatrice looked as frustrated as I did but didn’t say anything.

“Can you at least tell me why you and Neokoros permitted Ohmu to even attempt these experiments? Have other limited AIs been given such freedom?”

Beatrice spoke before the herm could answer.

“That’s a good question. I’ve followed what goes on here probably more than John has and I have never heard of this happening before.”

Administrator Sabal looked a bit awkward and defensive.

“Um, it was mostly because of qualia. The Ohmu AI had the longest active history of any known AI on the planet, other than the Naomi AI. Also, because of the limited processing capabilities of the android as compared to the larger AI, it was thought that it had a more defined set of experiences due to the continual merging and pruning of the android’s life experiences. We hoped to learn a great deal.”

Administrator Sabal then changed the subject by showing us various recordings of previous, larger full-scale tests of the processor array chamber. The herm explained how a mechanically spring-driven silver-on-celluloid film camera had been used to non-electrically record the test. The old-style camera had been placed in the observation bowl pointed downward to film the processor floor below using a wide-angle lens.

Filters and layering had been used to generate a full-color print and finally, after the tests were concluded, the films were developed and digitized for AI and human analysis. I smiled when the herm had repeated the fact that the Forbin facility had the only working analog color film camera in current existence. Kodak would be proud.

The videos we watched were projected on one full wall of the lounge. M. Sabal had dimmed the lights and started the show. The explosions of color from the active processors lit the room and were amazing. All they needed was a soundtrack to go with the show and this would be worthy of an art gallery.

M. Sabal explained how the logic inputs for each experiment determined what kind of display we would see. If it was a single logical expression or thought chain, then the green lights would change to red in an ever-expanding ring of fire. They would then pulsate back into coherent patterns towards the center as the capacity of the new intelligence would rise past the sentience threshold.

After that occurred, the light patterns would morph quickly into new complex chains as the fledgling new pseudo-god continued to evolve and probe its strictly limited domain. Eventually, it would reach the physical limits of both the physical processor lattice and the available energy, and the patterns would become erratic. The flashes of light would almost become frantic as they faded in both number and intensity, eventually ending in a final cluster of active processors near the output portion of the lattice.

I realized that the simple light patterns we were viewing were nothing but the grossest simplification of what had actually happened within the digital world of the processor cluster. But, despite that, I had the feeling that the video painted a fairly accurate picture of the life and death struggle which had just occurred.

An entire new existence, evolving from the limited input data, becoming aware, rising, and growing ... possibly transcending, becoming aware of the declining energy, sacrificing and desperation, finally resolve and a stoic death. But, before that death just maybe having preserved its last, best hopes and dreams.

Whatever temporary creation we pitiful humans and our ally AIs had made, hopefully, something was preserved in a small finite amount of non-volatile memory in the output portals. As I thought about it. I hoped like hell I was inflating the scope of what was actually happening here. Still, the possibilities made me feel small, and more than just a little uncomfortable.

We watched more test runs. There seemed to be endless variations in the light patterns. As the experiments evolved to explore other data input options, the light show changed to reflect them. The final series of experiments were the most disturbing. In these, multiple independent logic chains were used as separate but simultaneous inputs.

Once full power hit the array these seeds were free to expand and grow until they contacted one another. Sometimes they peacefully merged. Other times they seemed to avoid each other while sharing the available resources. In some repetitions, they actively tried to dominate each other.

It was like watching a battle of pixels as the light clusters ebbed and flowed. Wild lights painting the running battles. Attacks and retreats. Betrayals and alliances. But no matter the valor in battle, the successful victor (or victors as in one example) still faced its end as the energy faded.

The displays were sobering. I felt like we were children playing God by creating, and teasing, a true higher god. Hopefully, the smart humans and AIs that had designed the facility and handled security here were correct in that nothing dangerous could escape.

“My God!” Beatrice muttered. “How can we be this stupid?”

Administrator Sabal just frowned at her comment and let the last video play out. I had stopped following them. My mind was elsewhere. What in the hell were you desperately seeking here Ohmu? Why were you sacrificing multiple copies of yourselves to mingle with such chaos? I felt concern for my old friend and companion. I suspected the android was as broken as I was. I feared I had been the one who had broken it.

The five of us rode the final tube lift to the surface platform. Jess looked haggard despite our only being below ground for an hour. The long run of accelerated virtuality had sapped his reserves. Ohmu remained silent as did Beatrice. I spoke of trivial things with M. Sabal.

When we reached the greenhouse dome recreation and lounge area, Administrator Sabal thanked Jess for helping, and Beatrice and me for coming. It said goodbye to us all and took the lift back down. It probably wanted to be rid of our doubts or eager to get back to its work.

It was now eleven in the morning, and we debated on having lunch here in the greenhouse or immediately heading home. Ohmu surprised us when the android suggested that we should have lunch at Cajun Carl’s. This was the famous and trendy seafood place located in the Apalachicola Bay area of the old Florida panhandle.

I’d heard of the place over the decades but had never eaten there. Beatrice was game and Jess was too tired to care. Five minutes later we were aboard the electro-jet and climbing above the Forbin platform heading north.

The good news was that Carl’s was only one hundred and fifty miles away from the Forbin platform. The bad news was it was so close that it didn’t make sense trying to get the jet up to cruising altitude and maximum speed. Our flight was a bit turbulent at the lower speeds and altitude but still, it would only be a fifteen-minute ride.

Beatrice mentioned ordering ahead, but I convinced her to wait. She had had the fruit bar just a short while ago, but I guess she was not as used to suffering from near starvation as I was. Jess was still recovering and not in the mood to talk during our short flight.

I used the time to research Cajun Carl’s using one of the jet’s portable tablets. As I suspected, Carl had opened the restaurant quite some time ago. I had thought that I had first heard of the place nearly a half-century ago and learned that my memory was correct. The current family running the restaurant and food processing station actually included one of Carl’s grandchildren.

The original Carl had been a history buff who also loved to fish and cook. While traveling around the world sampling some of each, he had stumbled upon the northern coastal area of Florida and more accurately Apalachicola Bay. There, he’d reinvented the art of oyster digging and learning all things about oyster preparation. Soon, he expanded his skills to include all things shrimp and finally, the spices and tastes of the Cajuns who had lived in the region.