Artificial(ish) Intelligence

Chapter 43

"How far are we?" said Josef.

Mathison took a moment to understand. Then took a few more moments. Let's be honest, he could have stolen every moment in history and still not found enlightenment.

"The prototype?" he tried.

Oh, never mind, I guess he got there after all. Don't mind me.

"Of course the prototype. Show me."

Mathison took the latest source through its paces, testing its ability to implement its own strategies based on broad objectives. In the simulator, seconds were weeks, so the results came in quickly.

"What's happening?" said Josef, not bothering to read the output.

"Err, it looks to be reducing the work force."

"Ah, rationalisation. Firings to reduce expenditure. Wonderful!"

"It's killing employees," said Mathison, "to remove the company's burden of severance pay."

"But we'll have something by Saturday?" said Josef.

The man had rolled in like a cyclone, full of energy, and his body was now far too close.

"Err," said Mathison. "Two days? I don't think...uhm... Didn't you say three months?"

"No can do," said Josef. "We've got a potential customer coming in. They'll need to see enough to know that this is the future. Sooner the better, right?"

He seemed jovial. No, more manic than anything, as if he were trying to control a tsunami inside his own mind.

"Yes?" said Mathison. But he knew deep down the miracle would only take place if they got lucky.

"You've found yourself a little assistant now," said Josef. "Widen the net. Get more...what did you call them...?"

"Sources," said Mathison, hiding a hard swallow.

"Don't restrict it like you have been," said Josef. "I shouldn't have to tell you all this. Aim for a high bar, then work out how to jump it. That's the way the corporate world works. You better get used to it." He jaunted off without waiting for a response, seeming to mutter to himself.

Mathison was just glad the extreme weather pattern had moved on. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then jumped at another voice.

"Is this possible?" said Diya.

It was as if she'd emerged from the shadows. Mathison was sure she wasn't there a moment ago.

"Can we do this?" she said. "Or must we...automate?"

"Keep performing the tests," said Mathison. "Just...keep performing them."

"How do we speed up the process? Can we find people to do this?"

"No. No money, apparently."

This wasn't a lie. Josef had told him they could only afford one assistant -- or colleague, as he saw Diya -- but with the accelerated schedule, you would think that money would be compressed over a smaller timeline. It made sense in a mathematical way. But this was business, and there were often invisible constraints and unseen motivations from the people working inside a company. This is something he'd recently learnt, and simultaneously shied away from, knowing he'd never understand the complex irrational machinations of the human psyche. But he did understand his own needs.

"We can't let it go faster," he said.

"What does this mean?" said Diya.

Could he trust her?

"Hypothetically," he said, "if one wanted to stop a hypothetical device from working, how could one go about it?"

"Hypothetically," said Diya, pointedly, "it would depend on the device. Hitting it with a hammer provides for consistent results."

Mathison shook his head.

"Is this the one you are using for the sources?" said Diya. "Hypothetically, of course."

Mathison played with his glasses. Nodded.

"I would need to see this hypothetical device," said Diya.

"Oh, no. That's not possible. Just some general principles applicable to any electronic machine."

Diya ran through a few, but they were either not directly applicable or failed to meet another parameter. Perhaps he was just like the others, with his own invisible motivations and hidden constraints. It was a depressing idea.

"But I'm the creator," said Mathison. "I can't sabotage my own device. If it stops working, Josef will blame me. He might not understand the technology, but he understands responsibility, and who has it."

"Ah, this is one of these types of conduct," said Diya, tapping the side of her nose. "Is it then possible to convince him that new problems have surfaced so you must withdraw the device from use?"

"No. If he doesn't like the answer, he asks more questions. And then more. I...I know enough about myself to know my own limits. If my wife was here, maybe..."

"Oh, you are married," said Diya, with a warm smile. "Where is she?"

It didn't take much to recognise the grief on Mathison's face.

"It was..." He couldn't think of a way to finish the sentence.

"How long ago did it happen?"

"Twelve months." He cleared his throat.

"I am sorry," said Diya. "Is that why you wear the daffodil? Is this the way you remember?"

Mathison clutched at his chest, feeling for the outline of the yellow flower. "How did you know?"

"I have learning in floriculture," said Diya.

"It's said to represent rebirth, new beginnings," said Mathison. "I figured it might help." He shook his head. "I don't know."

He appeared crestfallen, his face lower than shorty.

Diya brought him back to surer footing. "And she had high capability in explaining technical details?"

He sniffed away the nudging memories. "She was great at communicating complex subjects, particularly with lay people."

"I am not a lay person," said Diya, gently holding his arm. "We can discuss technical details. I have an idea for your problem. There are proper technical limitations that may be introduced so that you can speak with authority to Mr Hydan, Junior."

His face must have betrayed his thoughts.

"Not sabotage!" she said. Then smiled. "We can not stop the device, that is the constraint. But there is another option."