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Richard created autonomous artificial agents. More correctly, Richard assembled the agents, but they were not like the earlier attempts. They were certainly not robots. They had as much in common with robots as humans had with their domestic pets. Autonomous artificial agents had advanced. With that advancement, the agents inherited an organic part. They were not strictly abiotic any longer. The creatures were not quite flesh and blood but now they had many organic embellishments. To describe the first version someone had slapped on the title of ‘droid’. The new version was nothing to do with the old type of droids yet they still used the same name. They were new generation droids and the difference between them and the old type was considerable.
Richard now assembled droids with components shipped in from various locations. Components helped inestimably. That was because it was easier to create some of the complex droid function that way. The components were forever changing and allowed different facets to be included more rapidly into the droids. Richard created soft robotic creatures with artificial intelligence, which he almost without exception called AI. It would be incorrect to say Richard created living creatures; he created droids with organic parts. Richard carried out his construction in Springfield.
Springfield was close enough to the city to travel in by the metro system. From the outside, Springfield looked much the same as it always had except for the few superficial changes, which had taken place. Once it had been the stereotypical sprawling residence in a rural setting. Now it was far from that.
Ever since the government’s Department of Planning, supervised by President Jackson, sank money in to renovate the old ramshackle place, things had changed at a fast rate. With that money, there had been some superfluous modifications, which were visible from the road. Builders had somehow rounded the turrets, which reduced the severity of the residence. Its imposing nature mellowed. On the inside, difference builders and companies had gutted the rooms and installed modern state of the art instrumentation. All the time there was an air of secrecy about the restoration work. For installing the state of the art equipment, the Department of Planning used many of its own security-cleared corporations to perform the work. The end result was that only secured personal had any idea of the complete internal layout and instrumentation in the building. That was the way William Jackson had wanted it. William Jackson, who had his hands on the purse strings, had purposely planned it that way. It was all to do with his secret project, which was yet to come. William Jackson had specifically kept everything away from the prying eyes of the public. He had also secured most things from the eyes of the security-cleared individuals who assembled different parts of the sophisticated instruments.
The building now resembled a sophisticated cottage industry. William Jackson had earmarked the residence solely for the production of droids. Building new generation droids was nothing new, but the advanced droids, which William Jackson had in mind, were. Springfield would be a research installation. The extensive gardens produced a perfect place to allow level 2 droids to patrol and secure. The security of the building was paramount to William Jackson’s vision.
Notwithstanding the secrecy that the president had imposed on the new construction, he had oddly wanted to have an informal opening ceremony. In essence, it was not less than an odd opening ceremony. In fact, it was a tad bizarre. The ceremony took place sometime after the first droids had appeared. Richard the extremely gifted robotics engineer turned AI specialist standing toe to toe with the president of the country, next to them stood the mostly inanimate Craven, the level 2 droid. Craven had been doctored by Richard to diminish his intelligence system, which in some aspects had reduced his level 2 capabilities. Craven would be instrumental in assisting Richard with future projects. The ceremony passed with only comments from William Jackson, who could certainly give his opinion to anyone unfortunate enough to be standing around.
After a few nebulous comments about the inexactitudes of the opposing political party, William Jackson concluded with, “And I declare Springfield open.”
Richard did not clap and Craven also remained silent. It was only half a ceremony, at the very most.
~
AT THAT MOMENT, RICHARD was explaining some droid capabilities to the president. It was all part of the explanation why Craven was not a security risk.
“Yes, Mr President the categories are very simple. Just a memory test really.”
“Please clarify,” the president said in pompous tones.
“At this point in time, we have two main categories, although there are remnants from the old generation of droids. The ...”
“Just specifics Richard,” the president interjected sternly.
Richard caught the president’s eye for a moment then he changed tack. He knew the president was no technical man. The president liked things in plain English, except when he was weaving one of his political yarns. Then he got political technical to the nth degree.
“Level 1 and Level 2,” Richard said, “Level 1 are the collectors of information. They have no thought penetration.”
“OK, and?”
Richard hastily carried on, “Level 2 are the technicians, more processing capabilities. Comes with rudimentary thought penetration.”
“Thought penetration. Mind reading. Well, actually I know that.” The president said.
“Craven,” Richard said because he was interested to inform the president that he was not a security risk, “Craven is a hybrid, a Level 2 which I have doctored to keep all the useful aspects, like massive memory retention, and removed all the parts which would allow him to snitch to authorities.”
“Him?” the president continued. “Snitch to authorities?”
“Sorry, Mr President. Be discrete, that’s what I meant. Craven is totally discrete.”
The president looked at Richard; he may have thought he was a simple technocrat at one stage when he first met him, but that idea was changing. For Richard to imagine that the president wanted to keep information from the authorities implied that Richard had imagination. That was exactly what the president wanted to do because what he was about to do would infringe on every aspect of the democratic rule of law.
“It is paramount that we maintain secrecy, Richard,” President Jackson said in a matter of fact way as if it didn’t matter that much.
The president was totally au fait with Richard’s past; he knew the people personally who had used the though imposing lie detectors on him. The president knew that Richard was squeaky clean; that was for sure. He also knew his record from his university days on completing some astounding pieces of advanced work. The president had employed various agencies in his power to do a little security and reliability testing. Richard had come out of the analysis very well. It had impressed the president to such an extent that he was doubly sure he had the right man for the job he had in mind. So, having dispensed with all the preliminaries, there was something else. Compared with the rest it was a mere bagatelle. The president wanted Richard to abide by his regulations, his personal regulations to shut his mouth about all projects that were happening at Springfield. All the analysis would surely have verified that but the president was old school in that regard. The president spared no finesse in demanding just that.
“It is imperative you remain tight-lipped. The project depends on it. No tittle-tattling. No indiscretions.”
Then the president seemed to backtrack.
“Of course, it’s all for the security of the state,” President Jackson lied.
Richard did not understand why the success of his project depended on a security issue. After all, he was going to be working with robotics and AI. How would that affect the security of the state? Regardless, Richard did not question anything the president said. Richard would remain quiet, not for the security of the state but purely for the security of his job. He knew the penalties for disclosing state secrets. Richard could also imagine the consequences of asking too many questions about something, which the president was touchy. William Jackson for his part could have clarified the situation but there was no obligation for him to do anything of the sort. It would also certainly not have been a wise choice.
“Tight-lipped,” the president said and drew his finger across his mouth as if it was a zip.
The president was a sceptical person in most ways but for such a well-documented individual as Richard, he was prepared to make an exception. William Jackson felt quite certain that Richard knew the consequence of not keeping his word on secrecy. Surely, Richard knew that the full force of the law would come crashing down on him.
“The penalties, as you must know, would be very severe,” the president said bluntly.
That was the first complication for Richard, a dogged demand to abide by William Jackson’s rules. Apart from that, there were other draconian security clearance obligations, which were to the state. In a way, the two obligations were to the same person. William Jackson may have been laissez faire about transparency in his political dealings but when he was talking to Richard, he was a little more demanding. There were, of course, reasons behind William Jackson’s demands. Once William Jackson had Richard sign the official secrecy papers, he knew he had him over a barrel. He could twist and shape him any way he pleased. Richard was feeling doubt about doing business with the most powerful man in the country. Then again, if Richard had known everything about William Jackson’s proposed idea he would have felt a damn site more uncomfortable.
At that moment, no one had a clear understanding of William Jackson’s plan. If anyone did, it would be a toss-up whether they would laugh at him or lock him up. However, for the moment everything was in William Jackson’s favour. He felt he had put enough dread into the mind of Richard to make him obsequious. There could be severe punishments, maybe even imprisonment if Richard disobeyed his presidential dictate.
The president was busy talking to himself.
“If Craven was found leaking some secrets. What would you do with a semi-literate droid? Probably disassemble it.”
“Mr President?” Richard had heard William Jackson mumble something, but couldn’t quite make it out.
What neither William Jackson nor Richard knew was that the situation would get far more complex than either could possibly imagine. They were only at the beginning.
~
THE REAL CHANGE WITH Springfield had been within. The glistening instrumentation, the new décor of Spartan white walls, the practically silent work environment, the plethora of droids going about their prescribed business. The change in the interior of the building had occurred at the same time William Jackson decided to do something when he realised that the electorate was tiring of his government. He felt in his bones that his government had lost favour with the country, but for someone as adamant as he it was a hard pill to swallow. It was difficult for him to admit that his bureaucratic rule was no longer what the country desired. He didn’t need to rely on his own instincts because the polls were right there in front of his face. He had lost all favourability, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his time was up. The electorate was looking for change but how could he change? He was wedded to the politics of his party. He could radically change the political landscape in an attempt to hang on but that was not the reason people had voted for him initially. Then there was the issue that he was mule headed enough to believe that his opinion on politics was superior to that of the electorate. With William Jackson, it was the same old story, he tended to ignore the consensus when it wasn’t to his best advantage. This time, however, the writing was on the wall, his time in power was running woefully short.
The hardliners in his party were still loyal to him, but the wishy-washy ‘middle of the roaders’ were unhappy. They wanted results or they wanted change. William Jackson was in no position to do anything. He couldn’t change the fabric of his party. He wouldn’t change his political dogma. His regime had straddled him with a top-heavy bureaucracy, an administrative system for the country, which was slowly grinding to a halt. The country still only had two main political parties and their policies were radically different. The electorate would oust his party and replace it with the other one, using a completely new set of rules on how to achieve success.
The new government would knock down everything, which he had strived to accomplish during his four years. They would completely wipe the slate clean. The new government would destroy everything he had set up and worst of all, in his supercilious mind, he would have no legacy for the history books. His political confidante, Luke, had said the same thing. Luke had agreed with William Jackson’s bleak outlook.
“It all seems a little unreal that a country could switch its allegiance so rapidly.”
Luke may have been stating the obvious but it didn’t stop the president from listening intently. Ironically, Luke was an entrepreneur whose political ideas didn’t match with those of the president. The president, however, valued the opinion of Luke. Luke was also a man with outstanding political acumen. The president listened when Luke talked; he listened to him when he offered advice on political matters. Then there was the final anomaly, Luke was offering advice when he had no strong political affiliations of his own. Actually, the subject matter that Luke was broaching did not require political loyalty; it just required mule sense. Something Luke had in spades.
The two had an ongoing arrangement. A round of golf whenever the president was available, then they would saunter off for food at the clubhouse. The president and Luke had known each other since their schooldays and their friendship had never diminished, not once. The president told Luke most things except those shrouded in the mantle of top secret. However, the president could never divulge the work he was performing at Springfield even if it did not fall under the same security category. That was one little secret which he would not let escape.
They had been at the clubhouse when Luke had persuaded the president, without knowing it, what twisted plan he must follow.
“...but that is not the case. Democracy is in effect a deception. The electorate embraces it, true. But democracy bases itself on a system, which is vulnerable to interference by the media, oratory skills of the nominee - a host of things. It mostly has nothing to do with how good the nominee will govern or how good their policies are. That is looking at it one way. Then you have the deceit and lies. Yes, it is all about manipulation, it makes you wonder how we govern ourselves at all. When the crunch comes, Bill, you have to use any capability you have to survive.” Luke paused for a second, “Of course the best option is to have some of your opponents routing for you.”
Luke had meant the last comment as a joke, but then he looked across at William Jackson. He saw a serious look on his face as if he was deep in thought. Luke laughed.
“I was kidding Bill, just kidding.”
Luke may have been kidding but it was almost without question that quite soon the president would hand over the country to a completely different political party. William Jackson was not enamoured of the idea.
“It is just one step up from the law of the jungle. We all know that.” The president said.
It was just so unusual how William Jackson and Luke always seemed to strike the same chord. It was as if they were a syncopated debating team, coordinating their every point. However, William Jackson had his problems no matter how magnanimously Luke thought of him. Beneath the veneer of how Luke saw him, William Jackson was an arrogant man and he was sure he was right about most things. When push came to shove, he would have no compunction but to sideline Luke in the most nefarious of ways.
Whether it was overt or not, Luke had inadvertently armed the president with strong anticipation that his term of government was nearing an end. However, the president had already reached that conclusion, and he had already thought about a way to extend it. It would have nothing to do with a free vote, nothing to do with democracy. That was why he had employed Richard. Richard was an ideal candidate to help him, even if Richard was not totally aware of the extent of his involvement. William Jackson in his grubby little mind had devised a plan, which would not use the two-party system. More precisely, it would use a one-party system. It would just use his party. He would have a chance to finish all the plans he had in mind, all the reforms which he had not been fully able to implement. After that, he had convinced himself, he would let the matter drop. The government could do as it wished. First though, he must complete the half-finished reforms he had so fervently started at the beginning of his term in government. They would cement his legacy. He must finish them or throw them away. Complete them or flush them down the toilet.
~
ALL THE REFURBISHMENT that had taken place at Springfield had made the residence a silent hive of activity. The external dignity of the sprawling residence had remained and was almost indistinguishable from its previous incarnation, but inside the soul of the property had not. The property had transformed from a sleepy rich man’s palace to a mechanised one, where everything churned away without sound 24/7 in a skilfully hidden soundproofed inner sanctum. It was the only home for Richard, his loyal droid Craven and a plethora of other level 1 and level 2 droids who performed work creating their own kind. It was like a non-sexual procreation of droids, droids making droids in a scientific environment.
Even with all the complications, which were creeping into his droid projects, there were other things, which Richard needed to contemplate. There was yet another side to consider, a still more mysterious aspect of what he was doing. It was mysterious because it came very close to the experience of human emotion. At first, it wasn’t exactly obvious, but then it occurred to him. He had specifically created his AI mind to target. It was a way, he had decided, the droids he was creating could finish their tasks. They had to have a target. That was what it was all about, doing work, finishing tasks in whatever form they came.
“Targeting so they can finish their tasks,” Richard had said to Craven his slightly incapacitated droid assistant when they were in their lab by themselves.
Craven had answered, “Finishing tasks.”
In a way, it was one of those imponderables. It was a method to finish something, which was not necessarily well defined. Richard had earlier decided that tasks had no really clear definition. They could be anything from washing up a cup to designing a new drone car. However, it was plain there was one thing concerning tasks, which was common to every task, and that was direction. He would have known that at a very early stage if his education had been in artificial intelligence rather than robotics, except it wasn’t. He had started in robotics and switched into AI by chance. It was all because he had found artificial intelligence so intriguing. When he first discovered the science of AI, he almost threw away all his books on the mechanics of robotics. At first, it was as if he had seen the light. He had finally felt the cause for which he wanted to devote himself. It was an epiphany. It was a short-lived experience though because, like everything else he had ever worked on, the knowledge he required to handle AI was too deep for one man. He had moved from the idea of designing AI systems from the basics to developing skills interconnecting the components. How everything fitted together. However, that was not what he was thinking now. He was contemplating aspects of targeting actions in the droids he was developing.
“You had to perform a task from start to finish, from A to B,” Richard had said to Craven.
“No,” Craven had said. Then he had immediately contradicted himself, “Yes that is clear.”
Craven had said his piece in hesitant words as if he was undergoing staccato speech therapy. Richard for his part had more or less ignored what Craven had said because he was thinking about the problem himself.
“Yes, all droids must have target. A target. But how is that target generalised? How can I implement that capability into all future droids to allow them to target, erh, anything? Yes, anything. If I can, that would surely give my new droids a purpose, maybe even an optimistic one.”
Later, Richard would install a nascent targeting capability into all his droids, although ‘install’ was somewhat of a misnomer because he had relied on components produced by other people. He was really in the business of assembling the droids. Not installing or creating anything. Because he hadn’t thought of constructing the component to target something or other, he had not thought of the problem from basics. He hadn’t really thought what that had all meant. All he thought about was how he should assemble the components to perform the task of targeting. He wasn’t getting down to anything more basic than that. Then sometime later the reality of what he was involved in dawned on him. Richard was dealing with artificial intelligence. A complex subject just in itself. The option of targeting or finishing a task was similar to something, which every human possessed. Targeting was the same as the human condition of having ‘purpose’. It was his first foray into instilling emotions into his very clever but in many ways inanimate droids. What he was giving his droids was ‘purpose’, or at least the droids who could use it. That would have been level 2 droids at the time.
He had spoken with Sharlene about what he wanted from his next batch of components.
Richard had dialled the code and number for the small island. Sharlene had seen the origin of the call on her communicator and answered in the appropriate language. She had a feeling it would be Richard even though Richard’s communicator had been set up to block giving his number. Consequentially, Sharlene took a chance and pulled the front of her blouse so that her cleavage was slightly more exposed. To Sharlene, it was her little risk to add a bit of silly excitement to a tedious day.
“Richard,” Sharlene oozed out slowly.
The holographic image of Sharlene sprung up in front of Richard.
The word had come out in her best coquettish voice. If she had made a mistake and it wasn’t Richard at the other end of the line, she would think of a way to explain her misplaced action. Sharlene could be carefree on occasions and she loved thinking on her feet. Her little display of sensuality was not because of Richard. Richard didn’t mean a lot to her, she flirted with nearly all her male customers.
There was only Craven in their private lab at Springfield. Craven remained silent and motionless. If Sharlene was indifferent to the attentions of Richard, she clearly had a different effect on Richard. Richard looked intently at the holograph for a second then resumed his planned action.
Richard had explained to Sharlene what he would be looking for in his next set of supplies.
“It is something to capture a strong sense of emotion in my latest droid. It is to make my latest droid more humanlike.”
Sharlene shifted her position on her chair as if she was posing for a photographer, she pouted her lips.
“Like this,” she said then laughed.
“Well, something like that. Except I am talking at the intellectual level.”
Sharlene pulled a face as if disheartened by his remark. Then she got back to business, after all she was working to make money. The lascivious aspect of her life came in a poor second. Sharlene could at least guarantee that this transaction would help pay the bills.
Sharlene had concluded the conversation once she had detailed Richard’s request.
“...Of course, I will get onto it. I mean those technical guys are mustard. They are just the best.”
Sharlene waited a second for some sort of response from Richard but there was none.
She added, “That about wraps it up, I guess.”
“Yes, I guess so.”
Sharlene closed the conversation in her not unusual way, “Bye sweetie.”.
That was all it took. Spending a few minutes with the delightful but mischievous Sharlene and Richard knew he would have something, at least, approaching his request. Richard would have his new set of components modelled on his verbal requirements. Sharlene, she had not let him down yet. If anything, her technicians normally exceeded expectations.
~
THE MORE SOPHISTICATED the droids were becoming the more important that Richard’s task of incorporating human characteristics had also become. All the time the president was driving home the imperative to make the droids more humanlike. Richard knew the president had something in mind. It was definitely something untoward, maybe even nefarious but he could not be sure. Richard pressed on with his idea of instilling a purposive feeling into his droids. He had received a few more micro-sized pseudo-organic components from Sharlene’s associates and Richard was trying to network them in a meaningful way. He preferred to use his set of algorithms for the task because he hadn’t quite managed to hone his actions into a firm science. For the present, there were too many indecipherable options. It almost seemed to Richard that he was trying to create what nature and evolution had taken millions of years to do, in the space of a few short months. To Richard, it was what his targeting capability had become. Was the process of instilling ‘purpose’ into his droids too big to handle? After all, that simple aspect of human existence could be the difference between life and death. Now he was attempting to give his mock-ups of humanity, his droids, the same options.
The droids had already evolved at such a rapid pace, their development had been like a speeded-up version of evolution. There were pre-level droids then level 1 droids, followed within a short space of time with level 2. They each had their own distinct plethora of attributes, and now the president was asking for more. Richard was being required to insert into that already exceedingly small AI unit, something a little more intricate. He continued to look for solutions for the president’s demands. It was typical on those occasions to try to use Craven as a sounding board. It was not normally useful, only in the sense that Richard remained slightly amused by the idea.
“What more does that bureaucratic son of a bitch want? How big does he think my AI units are? These droids are capable already.”
It may have been a flippant thought but quite justified. After all, he was attempting to insert even more capability into his AI unit. Whether the president liked it or not, his new AI units were only the size of a large ostrich egg.
“Maybe I should insert a human psyche. I’m sure he’d like that.”
Although he didn’t give it a second thought, Richard was bang on the money. It was almost as if he had read the president’s mind.
Richard and Craven were alone in the lab. Richard thinking and Craven, as usual, the soul of discretion. Craven didn’t say a word; he didn’t make a sound. Richard took advantage of the situation to vent some of his frustration.
“It really takes the egalitarian biscuit. The president extolling the virtues of being fair in his socially bureaucratic government while not treating me in the same way.”
Craven, upon hearing Richard’s voice responded, “No.”
Richard ignored him and went back to his thoughts.
“The president is chasing me like a naughty schoolboy to get my homework assignment finished.”
Richard may have had disenchantments about his current project although there was a good side. He was using leading-edge instrumentation and his fascination with developing AI was undiminished. On top of that, he would take the skills he was learning now for future work.
Then his shallow optimism turned to disillusionment. It was just touch and go whether he would ever achieve instilling a level of sophistication into his droids the president wanted. In many cases, nature itself had glaringly missed the mark with congenital and genetic disorders. There was a stack of things which nature certainly didn’t do well and now the president had tasked him with producing a droid with perfect human characteristics. It was a little too rich for Richard to take.
~
RICHARD WAS UNCLEAR how the new ability to instil a human desire into his droids would truly manifest itself. The new enhancement to his latest AI unit could achieve something that most humans had – a sense of purpose. He was unclear though whether it would manifest itself that way. Richard had thought about it. The only way to find out was to create it and test it.
Inherent to his experiment, he may have called it his project but it was really his experiment, there was a dark side. In the construction of his artificial mind, he was not making a mind, which would think everything that a human mind would. He would be assembling a mind, which was unbalanced. He did not know how all the components would stack together. Would it be a hybrid or an advanced mind? Would it be a mind, which would be able to process decisions at lightning speed as would a supercomputer or would the baggage of human traits restrict it? Would the slow analogue elements such as ‘purpose’ slow it down? Would that cause a conflict? Would the near-human parts counter the droid’s razor-sharp capabilities? What parts of the AI unit would take control - the human parts? There could be the AI unit under the control of a human-like part, which would produce slow processing with human emotions controlling the validity of the decisions it made.
Richard knew how powerful some of the processing parts of the AI units could be. If a weakly constructed human-like section in the AI unit were to control the powerful computing part, it would be like the brain of an insect controlling a supercomputer. That, however, was highly unlikely because of the latest components he felt he was getting from Sharlene. Those parts would be attempting to emulate the approximate 100 billion neurons and 100 trillion synapses incorporated into the human mind. Richard knew that the new components would no longer work in a sequential fashion like an old-fashioned computer. They would multitask and take complex parallel routes, just like the human brain but more so. If no human desire like ‘purpose’ was involved, the AI unit would work faster and breathtakingly more precise. However, if that was not enough the new components were orgo-metallic; it would allow the AI units to network together. That could possibly link together all the droids on the planet.
Richard would also allow the AI units to be able to recognize patterns and even create patterns. It was something even the most powerful conventional super-computers were unable to do at that stage. The new computing components would also be useful for the droid’s vision and hearing and most important of all it would knit together all the droid’s sensory capacity so that all the droids could operate as one autonomous unit. At least that is what Richard wanted in the new components. He knew that the only way to get that was by speaking with Sharlene and laying out his requirements clearly. He had done that during their previous conversation. For the rest, he had to trust Sharlene’s technical wizards.
~
RICHARD SPOKE TO CRAVEN. Richard was mulling over his latest idea. They were in the lab, where they normally were, and Richard had need for conversation.
“Talking about purpose, don’t you find that odd, Craven? We are living under the control of William Jackson’s socialist agenda but are using the technology from a full market economy.”
“No,” Craven started his apoplectic gyrations until he finally settled on the word, “yes.”
Meanwhile, Richard had ignored him, preferring to delve deeper into the mental challenge, which was facing him.
Richard was trying to make an artificial mind with direction. It was an old idea but no one had managed to, convincingly, implement it. If he didn’t calculate what he needed to do correctly, it would point the AI mind into a particular direction so it could not contemplate any other way. It would be the entrapment of a free mind, even if that free mind were just an AI unit. That would be the equivalent of eradicating free thought. Who could possibly know the consequence of that condition? The AI mind was artificial but it could still be unbalanced. With the new latest components that Sharlene had coming across, who would know what a powerful unbalanced artificial mind would produce. It could be a focussed mind, an artificially intelligent mind with purpose. It could be potentially difficult to stop. Richard had told William Jackson all the lurid details and Richard was unsure whether the president could understand what he was saying. William Jackson had his own agenda, and if he could understand Richard he didn’t warrant the information important enough to supersede his thoughts. All the time William Jackson was egging Richard on to enhance the human aspects even further.
The conversation Richard had with the president that morning was typical. Richard’s communicator had revealed all. The president’s face was in front of him with all the characteristics, which Richard didn’t like. The president with his swept-back blond hair and steely blue eyes reminded Richard of a military commander and it was in keeping with the tone he was now using.
“How is progress? How are the human characteristics working? When will the creature be ready?”
The president had launched off on that same route again, calling his droid a creature.
“Mr President, it is not a creature it is an automaton in the form of a human being.”
“Good then the sooner we can install the necessary human parts the sooner we can call it a success.” The president quickly added then turned off his communicator.
The conversation was finished.
William Jackson had been pushing Richard in a certain direction because the president thought he knew human nature. However, because he had such meagre technical insight, he didn’t know the full consequences of his requests. William Jackson was working Richard as if he was one of his minions in his government without knowing what was really at stake. In the matter of droids and what could go wrong with them, Richard left the president in the dust. Yet because he was still subservient to the president, Richard normally buttoned his lip. However, Richard had to concede that if anything went wrong he could not blame it totally on William Jackson. Richard had taken his own route on this droid. It would be as much his fault as the president’s.
~
IT WAS PREPOSTEROUS that an artificial construct made up of individual parts shipped in from all parts of the country should be assembled together to become a single unit which inherited such an abstract notion as ‘purpose’. Certainly, not one person in the host of the Asian contributors would have thought too deeply about it. That there could be anything as human as ‘purpose’ in the orgo-metallic creation they had all helped to create. Yet that was exactly the situation, they didn’t know to what they were contributing. All they knew for definite was they were donating parts of a puzzle. They didn’t know how it would turn out.
“Craven, do you think you have purpose?” Richard asked.
“No Rom. Yes Rom, I like to work,” Craven said.
Craven had changed his mind mid-sentence just as he always did. It was a little unnerving sometimes, Craven could think like something most un-human, like an alien, so it seemed. Richard knew about that and put it down to an imperfect dumbing down operation he had undertaken when he had removed his capacity to think in elevated ways.
“Maybe you’re dyslexic Craven. Not to worry, at least you got my name right.”
Richard had fixed that part into Craven’s level 2 profile. From Craven’s perspective, Richard was Rom. Richard had fixed it into his profile verbally although it may have surprised him to hear what Craven had thought about it. Richard would never have believed it. That Craven didn’t only speak words.
Richard had decided on, ‘Rom’, because he felt it gave him a name approaching that of an older relative, like an Uncle. Richard had toyed with the name ‘Opa’ but decided it made him sound too old. With Richard, it was also a form of prejudice. He felt the name Rom made him sound a tad superior as if Craven was a plantation slave. Richard, felt he should be superior to Craven.
“I am a human, Craven is not,” Richard had thought during the re-profiling exercise.
If that was the case what had possessed Richard to think Craven, ‘a droid’, could be dyslexic?
Richard thought Craven calling him Rom helped cement and personalise their relationship. Richard had also profiled Craven verbally as a male. Craven had no real understanding what a male was or what it did but his level 2 intelligence had easily accepted the fact, it was knowledge without understanding.
~
IF RICHARD HAD THE freedom to mention that he was creating a better droid to the general public, without the dictates imposed by William Jackson, that would have been liberating. If there had been talk about the new generation droid having abstract human qualities, people would have found that a little more interesting. ‘Purpose’, well there was still that section of society that believed such a thing could only have been bestowed by God or some such deity. Although, it was the middle of the 22nd Century and the country as a whole, and the scientific fraternity, in particular, had grown away from notions of religion. Grown away but not totally dismissed them.
It hadn’t fully occurred to Richard what he was constructing. Was it a facsimile of himself? Maybe a facsimile of his species? The scientists and technologists who had donated their carefully created components and other artefacts to an anonymous corporation were also unaware of where their products would end up; they were not sure what their components were constructing. If Richard had not fully understood the purpose of the droid he was creating, then William Jackson did not understand the technology. Whatever Richard was likely to say to explain the complexity of the droids he was making, William Jackson clung on to his simple notion that Richard was creating complicated robots. For William Jackson, it was a simplistic analysis but one, which Richard could well imagine him making.
However, if the scientific side always eluded the president, there were other matters, which didn’t. Richard and William Jackson had discussed all matters about the droids in the privacy of Richard’s lab in Springfield. At the time, William Jackson had again stressed secrecy, it would be as if the difficulties Richard was having with the development of the droid and the special kind of artificial intelligence it would inherit, did not exist.
~
RICHARD’S MIND WAS as restless as ever, he often wondered if the AI units he was creating had a similar idea about whom or where they were. In a moment of tedium between projects, he had asked Craven that same question.
“How are things in there,” Richard tapped Craven’s head in the most disrespectful way.
“In where Rom? No, I don’t know what you mean.”
Obviously, Craven could barely understand his simple words. Maybe if Craven had said something coherent or if there had been a glimmer of understanding about what Richard was saying then maybe Richard would have had some sort of hope. Richard felt that he hadn’t created a super intelligent droid, at least not yet. That day was a long way off.
“Maybe it’s because I shifted a few marbles. Maybe it’s because of your recent lobotomy,” Richard joked about reducing certain of Craven’s mental facilities and almost felt guilty for saying it.
~
IT WAS DOWNTIME FOR Richard, he was waiting for another shipment of essential components from his Asian associates. He needed the components to progress his work. It was the worst time for him. If he could not engage himself in exploring the potential of his AI units, he was stuck as to what he should be doing. It was as if his life had ceased to flow. He looked for distractions.
Richard did not have many friends, men, or women. Richard did not understand the quality of friendship as if it was some experience, which did not suit him. He really was a solitary figure. Visits from the president helped and it was immaterial whether he liked him or not. It was the comfort of human proximity. Even calls from Sharlene allayed his feelings of loneliness; her holographic form hovering in front of him broke that particular spell. His work allowed him to pursue a near normal life but there was a big element of being alone. As well as being a near recluse, he was also a workaholic, tethered to his work. He was just like any other person who appended ‘holic’ to what he was. He was dependent on it; he was dependent on his work. His state of mind when withdrawn from the one thing he depended on, produced other symptoms. His work kept him sane and if he didn’t have that normalising force in his life, he became agitated.
Maybe he could go outside for a walk or a run, even though William Jackson had frowned upon any such idea for fear of Richard making too much external contact. William Jackson would have preferred Richard to confine himself to Springfield. It wasn’t as if Richard was wanting for any convenience; the president’s budget had made most things available to him. It wasn’t as if walking or running outside appealed to him either, Richard was without question the cerebral type. It was the exact reason he was doing so well at Springfield building droids. Richard now had free reign to the vast residence of Springfield, he could use the gym there if he had the vaguest interest in exercise. He could speak with any of the droids there but that would eventually only give him the creeps; even though Richard built them he never really thought they were a substitute for human conversation. Richard spent nearly every waking moment in the laboratory with his trusty droid, Craven. Craven was the epitome of what he didn’t want from a friend. Richard was the near genius and Craven a bastardised droid. Richard had removed Craven’s most interesting mental parts, or at least the equivalent, which were some of the subsets from the orgo-metallic components. The removal had made his conversation sometimes unintelligible.
“Craven you do have similarities with a human but only one who lost the argument with an invasive brain operation. Maybe I should just fix you up again,” Richard said, not even thinking he could possibly hurt Craven’s feelings.
There were no other options. He could talk to either himself or his demented droid assistant. Richard thought about what he had just said.
“No, that’s not an option. William Jackson would certainly not like an intelligent droid helping out.”
William Jackson had given Richard a very clear instruction to keep Craven in a twilight world. Although Craven would be the last to know, Craven was only a droid with limited capabilities. Craven was useful in the lab to help out with small manual tasks but his real forte was performing certain programmed tasks. Certain parts of Craven’s mind were still fully functional. All the data-intensive parts were working correctly and they were working at very high transmission rates.
Richard could, at any stage, have reassembled the missing parts from Craven to make him complete again, well at least he thought he could. Then he remembered how time-consuming it had been to remove the pieces in the first place. There was a different design now and the parts slotted together far easier; it was the normal advancement which you would expect with such an orgo-technological piece of equipment. To resurrect Craven, it would be like a surgeon performing a brain operation; in fact, it was just that.
“It’s not exactly brain surgery,” Richard said out loud, rebelling against the tedium which was consuming him.
“No, it is,” Craven said. “Yes, it’s not. Yes, it is. No, it’s not.”
Richard looked at Craven slightly disbelieving that Craven had just said that.
“You finally got there,” Richard remarked.
“No, Rom.”
If Richard was getting agitated by the lack of reasonable work to do in the lab, he was now doubly so after Craven’s vacuous remark. There was only one thing to be done, he still had some Clixs capsules left; he would go to his room where he could finally be alone and take one capsule and listen to some music.
