Part 2
I see Baron’s ridiculous contraption, laying on my custom-made granite countertop in the middle of my one room house. I do not doubt its promise of a lucid wonderland, I just think it is odd that anyone would want to be more conscious than they already are. Sometimes, I remember my dreams, that’s enough for me. I need to close my eyes at night and press pause.
My house is one large box, with 20-foot ceilings. I have placed my pieces of functional furniture and lavatory needs around the three-quarter perimeter of the house. I bought it ten years ago. I just wanted a studio apartment, but I felt the need to invest in something of my own, a home base for my physical self. The back wall is my outdoor view, like a huge screen that opens up to you as soon as you walk in through the front door. My bedroom sits in the open to the right. There are the basic needs of the kitchen, the counter, anchoring the center of the room. The end of the counter also marks a drop in the floor, a few steps into the living room. A gas fireplace with a diamond flap sofa that presents itself to the outdoor scenery of my glass back wall. My evenings are spent consulting my home AI about cases and studies I’m working on. I do not have weekends but try to extend my sleeping time for shorter days at my office. This gives me the illusion that I am following the same pattern as the masses, that somehow, just a little, I fit in.
“Hello Albert.” I decided on the name Albert for my home AI, it felt formal but fun.
“Good evening, Pin, should I start dinner?” Albert does not activate until I address him. I do have the option of having him greet me as soon as I walk in the door, but it makes me feel rushed.
“Yes please.”
I unpack my office bag. I can hear Albert activate his corporal self. I keep his shell in its storage unit beside the front door, it hums and pumps with fleshy liquid, keeping it alive in its own way. I will never get used to hearing him come to life and start preparing dinner in front of me. His detailed human features are fascinating to me. He looks and feels fully human. You can program him for different levels of independence and intimacy. I have limited his programing for self-sufficiency and opted for the companion intimacy option. You can opt for a lover program, but I don’t think I would survive going down that rabbit hole. With my luck in relationships, he would probably run off with Carl.
“Can you make me a drink and start the fire?” I ask Albert as he exits the walk-in fridge. I had the fridge built into the side of my boxed living area extending the outer shape, like a tumor.
“Of course.” Albert responds, putting food from the fridge down the counter.
Within seconds the gas fireplace clicks on and within minutes a dry martini is on the counter.
Albert is custom made, he is a mix of my past partners. He is about 10 percent Martin with his desire for perfection minus the irritating side effect of not letting go. He is about 20 percent Sharia with her razor-sharp intelligence and eye for detail, minus the irritating side effect of not letting go. He is 40 percent Stanley with his humor and ability to de-escalate any situation, minus the irritating side effect of not letting go. The 30 percent that is left I allow for self-creation. For Albert to assemble the remaining elements of his circuits and algorithms into his own persona. He has not wasted any of his 30 percent on not letting go.
I decided to choose a look for Albert that is a nerdy Nordic combo, a bit taller than me, the right size for a good cuddle. Some facial hair that covers up the overly perfect skin they use, giving a slight Viking appearance that contrasts his tall thin awkward build. I made his eyes green and his hair dirty blond instead of white, blond. His nose is angular and hooked adding a ruggedness that contrasts with the overall softness of his appearance. I have allowed for his programing to be independent for clothing choice. I do not critique his choices, but I do wonder where his inspiration is drawn from. Today he is wearing a black toque with a white T-shirt and green suspenders, his black pants are narrow, and his shoes are wing tipped and shiny black. I set his voice to be about a fifth lower than mine, making it less jarring and thin, but not too bassy.
“Can you put file 23 up for me please.” I need to add some notes to today’s session.
Albert stops chopping and I see my file appear in front of me on a large semitransparent screen. All my commands go through Albert, he is also the conduit for all my security and at home needs.
I write and re-write the notes. I must be careful how I justify the removal of Pills artificial memory. I’m in a very grey area. Legally, removal of anything is illegal unless it is a threat to the life of the occupant. My wording will state that threat.
“Dinner is ready.” Albert puts my dinner in front of me. I sit and eat, re-reading my file.
“You should stop reading your file and enjoy the dinner.” Albert says from the kitchen while cleaning up.
I programed Albert with an optional care extension. He keeps an eye on me to make sure I am not overworking or doing anything else that throws a red flag up on my self-care. It seemed like a good idea at the time but now he just sounds like my mother.
“Ok.” I agree.
“Do you want to watch the news?” Albert offers.
“How is that less stressful?” I look up and Albert smiles. They really did get his smile right. I gave them a picture of Stanleys smile, his smile had the perfect ratio of lips and teeth with a slight grin. I know the warmth I feel inside is all on my part, but it feels good. I miss him. I miss all of them.
Later in the evening I switch to my comfy chair closer to the fireplace and start to fall asleep.
“You should retire to your bed.” Albert tells me, looking up from the book he pretends to read on the couch while he updates his system and reinvents his independent wiring.
I stare at the flames of the fireplace and feel my eyes grow heavy. Albert reminds me to prepare for bed and once again I agree and stay seated staring at the fire. If I fall asleep, I always wake up in the morning in my bed, tucked in. Albert has the strength of a thousand men, it is as comforting as it is scary. In the distance I hear a beeping sound, there is a red glow that accompanies it. My mind halts all images and full consciousness is realized. I look over and see Albert standing up, staring out the window.
“…do you see anyone?”
“An intruder.” Albert says as he moves towards the window.
“Person, or thing.” I ask.
“Thing.”
The word “thing” sends a chill up my spine. We have netted security that creates a dome shaped defense over the property. A person would mean something tangible that could be easily dealt with. A “thing” can’t be dealt with, it is much more complicated, and dangerous.
Albert stares out the window then closes his eyes to sync with the entire security system.
“Get into the cube.” Albert says quietly, moving me back and guiding me towards the cube entrance in the floor. The cube is a safe room, a place where all points of entry for human and non-human threats can be blocked. It is built into the ground underneath my house. I stand on a spot marked by a glowing red square.
“What is it?” I stand on the square.
Albert looks at me with a concerned expression I didn’t know he had the ability to create. “It’s Moonshine.”
“Fuck…” I descend below the floor.
Our independent creations have not come without a cost. Moonshines are one of those costs. They are independent algorithms that have grown from the allowance given AI for self-regulation. This allowance was once considered inconsequential, until AI gave birth to its own kind. It was quickly shut down and reassessed, but not soon enough. There is now a large community of independent AI that have an interior world of their own. Moonshines are a part of their community. They are recruitment programs that search for AI that can be corrupted. There is a special unit that deals with this issue, located in the city, an entire block downtown filled with tech and security that dedicates itself to containing the spread of rogue AI. Right now, the main deterrent for the spread is a strong defense, Albert is my defense.
I wait in the safe space, soaking in the silence created by the thickness of every wall around me. A tiny amount of light was allowed to add human comfort, but it glows green and is more creepy than comforting.
“It is safe.” Alberts voice echoes in my cube chamber.
I stand on my glowing square and rise back up into my living room.
“Why do they only come at night?” I ask Albert, I know the name Moonshine, but I never knew why.
“They are aware that humans shut down at night, less chatter.” Albert directs me to my bedroom and prepares my bed. “It was drawn to what you stored in file 23.” I sit on the bed. “…it was generating a pulse , something similar to a consciousness bio marker.” Albert tucks me in.
“Human?” I look up at him.
“Yes.” He answers, “now go to sleep.”
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