"Sit down, sit down." Right hand on my back, he leads me to his coffee table and takes a seat opposite me. I sit down and he leans back, apparently completely at ease. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"
"There's been a rash of… What I can only call strange malfunctions: machines so committed to their jobs that they do them without human agency or.. even power-."
Ah... So ask a machine that can actually talk to humans to poke them and see if anything pops out?
"Ah, hey." He holds his hands up defensively. "Ah'm totally legitimate, straight and narrow, wouldn't say 'boo' to a goose. Y'all can check with-."
"Oh-. No, no." I shake my head. "I wasn't accusing you. Sorry, I can.. see how that could have sounded."
Ah, OL. So amusingly oblivious to deeper meanings when it's funny. Honestly, you never thought that he might assume that?
"Well good." He puts his right hand on his chest, smile still in place. "If I had a heart, it'd be racing right now! Ah'm a good boy these days, now there's no electric gun against mah head."
"I have no reason to doubt that, and as I said at the hearing, I can think of no reason why you wouldn't be."
While not
entirely related to this... Fun anecdote: The brand-name 'Taser' is actually an acronym, from a
sci-fi tale: '
Thomas
A Swift's
Electric
Rifle'. Because, you know, the obvious similarities.
"So long as we're clear about that. Machines acting up, huh?"
"A car that drive the route to work without regard for traffic laws, a robot assembly line trying to assemble golf carts from nothing." I smile. "A weighing machine that guesses the weight of anyone who walks by it with surprising accuracy."
Which more than a few ladies probably found annoying... And those around them found amusing? At least these manifestations are benign so far.
"Bet some folks didn't like that."
"Actually, it drew a crowd. I've got a dozen other reports, and there are probably more than we aren't finding out about because people either don't notice or chalk it up to a normal malfunction."
Heh. Whatever's causing this (Nascent Elemental!) by and large seems to want to help people.
Wonder how long that will last once they actually start interacting with Humanity...
"That's mighty strange. But why come to me? Ah'm just a businessman."
"Two reasons. Firstly, your remarkable facility for controlling technological devices. Secondly, the other AIs I know are magic-based or techno-organic. You're an upload, which means that if it's a magic thing you're more likely to be able to interact with it."
Read: No magic, just a case of brain-scan running on entirely conventional hardware... At least, in
this universe.
"Like a canary interacts with mine gas."
"That's not quite how I was.. thinking about it. If there's some sort of elemental creature that actually wants something, or.. is trying to do something, we need someone who can speak its language."
Assuming they can work out
some kind of communication protocol. After all, computers were notoriously hard to get to work together... At least, before the Internet came along and standardised things.
"Negotiatin' 's something ah can do. So y'all just want me to work mah not-magic touch on it, see if anyone's home, and that's it?"
"That's probably it. If I knew exactly what was happening, I wouldn't be trying to find out what's happening."
Well, that makes a lot of sense. Can't wait to see how badly it goes wrong. Unless Mr Zoat
wants us to expect that and is feeling contrary.
(Murphy: "Okay,
now you're just being
disingenuous...")
"Sounds like the sorta thing a public-spirited artificial person like me oughta do."
"You haven't noticed anything strange yourself?"
I kind of prefer the term Synthetic-American... 'Artificial' has some awkward connotations...
"Everything in the office is hunky-dory, and if the fellahs workin' the wells spotted anything they ain't referred it upwards. Ah'll send a message 'round, see what shakes lose."
"I'd appreciate it. And you, personally?"
To be fair, though,
most of the machinery involved in oil drilling is only able to do one thing, and already do it as best they can...
He frowns. "Had some mighty strange dreams lately. But hell, ah'm a machine thinks he's a man. Shouldn't even be able to dream in the first place, and there ain't exactly a standard for 'normal' when you're me. Ah. But there's something that's been bothering me something chronic for a while now, and I was hoping you could put mah mind at ease. 'fore I do something canary-like."
"I'll do my best. What's the problem?"
Ah, the strange philosophical conundrums of synthetic consciousnesses...
"Earl Dukeston the First didn't want to meet his maker ahead of time. That's why he had me built. But he knew he'd be meeting him eventually. He was a Baptist Christian, a regular church-goer. Until he couldn't physically make the no any more, anyhow. Ah've got as many ah his memories as they could load onto me, but I'm not him."
I nod. "That's my understanding; Earl Dukeston the First is now dead."
Which is somewhat different to the original version, who was a 'brain in a bottle' scenario. Still, the change gives us Earl here, so...
"So he didn't change the date ah his meeting with his maker at all, did he?"
"Not significantly. Though having been to the Silver City and having definitely not had an encounter with the godhead, I'm not sure that's exactly how it works anyway."
He may well not have qualified for full entry into the Pearly Gates... Though that doesn't mean he was hell-bound either... Probably got the 'plain' heaven...
"Howsabout me, then? Ah've been going to church. Ah believe just like he did, and the law says ah'm a person even if ah ain't exactly a man. Will ah go to Heaven, or the other place if'n ah don't measure up?"
"Zauriel's a better person to ask than me."
Good luck finding him though. I
guess he generally hangs out near his sweetheart in what, San Francisco?
"If'n he had a postal address, ah'd have surely asked him."
"Ah. In that case, my understanding is 'no'. Even in mystically strong worlds, AIs struggle to gather the sort of arcane weight that organic creatures do. Both Red Tornado and Red Inferno were designed with the manipulation of magic as a part of their core function so they don't have that problem. You weren't."
On the other hand, it's probably easier for Earl to put off dying proper for a long time. Just keep upgrading and transferring into newer bodies. But then you run into the question of continuity of consciousness... Would him shutting down and transferring into a new body count as the same guy or a new one with the memories of the previous?
Argh, this is why people don't like to think about these things...
"Well. That's mighty disappointing. Is there any way to fix it?"
"Oh, sure. Did I ever show you my tattoos?"
"Can't say you did."
That's
not an invitation to take your shirt off, OL. Let's not repeat
that Zatanna moment, shall we? I'm also honestly not sure Earl would be able to perceive them if they were visible on the skin, what with his relatively minor mystical silhouette.
"Well, short version, a while ago I found myself in your position. I talked to some wizards, and after a while we managed to get it fixed. Since I couldn't grow a soul normally, we used a little magic to make me grow one artificially. I'm not exactly sure how it would work for you, but we can talk to some people and see what we can come up with."
"That'd be a weight off mah mind." He stands up, the same smile on his face. "Alright, ah'm in. Let's go have a powwow with the self starting machines."
Maybe taking a look at the structure of the Reds' core would help? After all, isn't the Morrow Construct still around
somewhere? Perhaps he could offer some measure of expert insight.
I stand. "Let's. But I'm curious; what sort of dreams?"
"Ah already talked that one out with mah shrink. Like ah'm standing in a room surrounded by all kinds a' folks, but none of 'em can see or hear each other, an' ah can't talk neither." He shrugs. "Guess it just means ah need to get out and make more friends."
Gee, doesn't that sound
significant...
"Do you dream that often?"
"A couple times, close together. Then once or twice more. Ain't like it's every night. If'n this ole' noggin of mine gets stuck in that sorta loop, I call the fellahs down in IT."
Who probably ask "Have you turned it off and back on again?" just out of habit...
"And you're making an effort to be more social, and they're not coming back?"
"That's about the size of it. Not every little thing's a major crisis. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, you know?"
And sometimes it's something
else. I get the feeling something growing in the Dreaming was trying to drop some
very vague hints...
"It's not practical to be suspicious of everything, anyway. What are your normal dreams like?"
"Ones and zeroes, my friend. Ones and zeroes."
So... No Electronic Sheep? ...Dammit!
Nearly made it all the way without making that joke!
