Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 19

The small room was made more cramp by a large electronic control desk covered with buttons and faders, and a few monitors hung from the walls. But it was the chat app Adelaide was focussed on.

"This program needs an update before-- So update, already!"

She grimaced and looked around. A large two-way mirror separated her from the other room. It was an old research lab, useful for running experiments on new designs, regaled with bespoke selfiebot clamps attached to a multitude of posts. But since the design process had become fully simulated and mostly automated, there was now no use for the space other than impromptu confinement.

Through the mirror she watched the selfiebot flutter about like a bottled moth, banging against walls in erratic and ineffective attempts at escape. She flicked a switch on the desk to open up the microphone. "There's no point trying."

She looked to the side at a second door, bright yellow, directly separating the two rooms. "And since you don't have fingers..."

"Get me out of here!" yelled the selfiebot, muffled by the glass. "Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

Adelaide shook her head as she turned the microphone off.

This selfiebot was the 'attachment' the R&D folks were talking about, the one that had gone missing. The one Mr Borken would kill them for losing. This meant it was important.

It flew closer. "Is that...?"

Even Adelaide knew selfiebots were programmed to avoid mirrors, since reflections increase the chance of accidentally photo-bombing the perfect shot, an unacceptable result for a device advertised as being invisible. But this one almost seemed to be inspecting itself. This was good. Eerie, but good, since it showed the artificial intelligence at work. She would have to demonstrate similar characteristics unique to this selfiebot before handing it over.

She checked the status of her chat app. "What are you doing?" she said. "Are you finished? Have you even started updating? What?"

The selfiebot dropped down beneath the mirror, out of view, so Adelaide turned the monitor on, hoping that the cameras were still active. All she saw was black. She slapped at random buttons. Suddenly a picture zapped onto the screen. It took her a moment to realise it wasn't of the other room, but a stream of a panel show. She was about to try a different button when she noticed who was on it.

"We've seen automation take over blue-collar jobs throughout the twentieth century," said Josef Hydan Junior, "then simpler white-collar work in the early twenty-first, to now removing the need for most professional services."

"But have we gone too far?" said the presenter.

Josef smiled and let out a small chortle. "If you've been falsely accused of murder, do you really want to go to a firm that hires graduates to scour case studies? How many innocent people went to jail before the advent of...of machine learning programs? What about the savings we've made to healthcare by automating the analysis of easy cases and allowing doctors to spend their time on the more challenging patients? And don't get me started on transportation..."

"But not the top executive positions just yet," said the host, baiting Josef.

"Until now," he said. "That's where our ingenious True_AI module comes into play, a way to obsolete even the highest positions in a company."

An old man with long scraggy hair and a bright green vest jumped in on the conversation: "This is why it's, you know, so important to maintain the universal basic income and such."

Josef's scoff was almost imperceptible, but Adelaide picked up on it. She'd been in favour of instituting the UBI. In her role as HR director, she was aware of the massive reduction in viable jobs over the last decade due to automation, while discussions with Mr sixth-letter-of-alphabet-ing Borken made her cognisant of the commensurate increase in productivity, so it made sense for the proceeds of that productivity to be dispersed to the whole of society.

Perhaps she could discuss this in person with Josef Hydan, himself.

"Yes?"

A pause.

"Hurry up, I'm busy."

It took a moment for Adelaide to realise that the hold music had stopped and that the voice was coming through her chat app, not the TV.

"Mr Hydan?" she said.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" he demanded.

She put on her most professional tone. "This is Adelaide Lovelace." She paused for a minuscule moment, contemplating yet again her surname. When she was young it was incredible to share a name with the woman regarded as the first computer programmer, Ada Lovelace. But then, in her teens, she found out about the stage name of the famous, err, actress, and became immediately ashamed. Since then she'd learned to utilise the characteristics of both these historical women.

The pause was enough for Josef to get a word in. "Yes, yes, I know," he said. OK, so that's four words.

"Do you remember coming by House of Paschar not long ago?"

"Hang on while I check my memory banks," said Josef.

Memory banks?

"Am I talking to Josef Hydan?" said Adelaide.

"Yes, yes," said Josef, "this is Josef Hydan. Powered by TrueRealVoicetm."

"Ahh," said Adelaide, catching up.

After training it with just five minutes of speech, the software developed heuristics based on style, tone, and word choice, from which any potential phrase would appear to naturally come from the original speaker. Married with a rudimentary AI, the system could mimic a person's voice perfectly.

"Yes, I may have dropped by," said Josef.

The selfiebot banged a wing hard against the mirror. Adelaide didn't flinch. It didn't take long for her to slip through the bright yellow door and grab the shocked selfiebot.

"And at that time," she said, fastening the selfiebot to one of the clamps, "you gave me your number and said we should stay in contact. In case anything came up."

"Yes, yes, hurry up," said Josef. They'd captured his essence perfectly.

The selfiebot fluttered its wings while begging for its life. This kind of self-preservation must come from being an intelligence, thought Adelaide. She put a finger to her lips for the selfiebot to be silent.

"I have in my possession something that may be of interest to you."

The selfiebot kept talking, moaning, complaining.

Adelaide retreated into the control room and closed the door. "It's a device," she said, "that can do far more than pass the Turing test."

"The what? What are you talking about? Spit it out."

In muffled tones, though still too loud, the selfiebot mentioned something about facts and caring for the truth.

Adelaide flicked the switch. Spoke into the microphone. "Quiet!" And returned to her conversation with Josef. "Put it this way," she said, "it could not only rival but surpass your True_AI software. Is that something you'd like to discuss further?"

"I can't give you an answer now, that's down to Josef Hydan," said Josef.

What use was the software if it couldn't make decisions? This was more frustrating than interacting with a call-centre.

She almost growled a response. Her pleasantness had turned on the spot and was last seen making a run for it a few streets over. She held the app close to her mouth. "Then let me speak with him!"