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Chapter 10 - "Laret"
from the Archive of Manuscript Records abstracted from the
Diaries of Anelan Sanger(1985-2057AD)
As the others left, Stroke stood by Anelan for a while, then
started dragging his feet trying to erase their tracks on the sand and
finally gave up with the comment "can't erase all of our tracks." Once
they had walked well past the fort Stroke told her: "I need to play Laret
now, Anelan, would you show me tomorrow?" "I can show you tonight if you
want, Stroke" "No, not tonight. Tonight I want to curl up with your warm
body and sleep at my place until I wake up in the morning. My mind will be
clearer in the morning. When we get home tonight I don't want to talk
about anything even vaguely related to this meeting. We could talk about
the spanking, about your fat pussy, listen to music... anything you want. I
need sleep early, then we'll go to your place, if that's OK with you."
"I'd love to show you my house, Stroke, I was waiting for the proper time to
invite you." It was a long walk home. They were so tired that they did
nothing except curl up against each other and fall asleep. Very early
in the morning Stroke woke up as usual, went to the bathroom, checked the
kitchen cupboard but this time he took out a glass and drank a little water
before going back to bed. All was still well. It was still foggy in
the morning when they awoke and rubbed their bodies together for a short
time before Stroke got up and put some water on for coffee. He fried two eggs
over easy and served them on toast with a strong cup of coffee for him and
a cup of tea for Anelan. They cleared the kitchen counter in silence, lost
in their own thoughts, locked up the house and walked up the hill to
Anelan's. It was a small house with the usual unkempt front and side yards,
but it was cozy and quite clean inside. "Infinitely cleaner" as Stroke put
it "anything over zero..." Analen was delighted to show off her cozy cave,
they had been living mostly outdoors since Sunday and she was glad to see
her place again. Being in a new place gave Stroke the perfect chance to be as
nosy as he could be. Asking questions, looking at books and things on
shelves, with a little luck he would find the bug he strongly suspected
had been placed there already. But he found nothing. Anelan made
another cup of tea for her and coffee for Stroke. After a few sips from their
cups they sat at the computer. He covered the videophone camera with a
napkin. (nothing unusual in that move, he thought, many people still do
not like videophones) Anelan started to describe Laret, nothing complex
initially, it would ask twenty or so questions and sometimes give a few
options and then the game experience would begin. As he put on the viewer and
gloves, Stroke asked her if she had a second viewer and she said she was
happy to just look at the monitor screen and watch, if he didn't mind. He
didn't, he wanted her there just in case... and please stay next to
him. Stroke started the game. He had to answer many questions which
displayed slowly across the screen: he gave his name as Stephen R. Hoswell
and Anelan flinched (why was he lying to the computer, or had he lied to
her?), his address was in Petaluma, no living relatives, had been a
programmer long ago, now into antique collecting, very fond of an old African
tribal mask(that was true but he didn't say that the mask was perched on a
very realistically phallic object, Anelan thought). Then in the middle of
one of the questions that had gone as far as :"Would you like to talk...?
the input screen dropped away. He was flooded by strange feelings, the
visual and audio input from the helmet and the gloves generating an
overwhelming sense of reality, surrounded in ultimate definition...
seamless. Floored by the level of the experience, he willingly suspended
his distrust. He dove into the reality presented...he was in a lush, tropical,
wooded meadow (Africa was Anelan's first thought)... He saw himself as
he looked down. A buzzing growl in his brain told him his name: "Ek- guh...
you are bonobo". He had just got up from the clump of grasses where he had
spent the night and was ambling toward the rest of the group feeding in
the meadow. He was horny (what? the gloves? subliminal?...) He passed a
pair of females on his right. He saw guh-Ti out of the corner of his eye
as she moved backwards to intercept him and placed her raised posterior
squarely in his path, bumping into his stomach. She repeated the bump more
insistently, looking down he saw his full erection and easily inserted it
into her willing body. His hands felt the soft fur on her upper hips as he
drew her to him. There was a feeling of erection and of the moist, warm
feel of her vagina in his brain. They coupled for many strokes until she leaned
to one side, then quickly rolled over the other way, barely breaking
contact, now facing him as he entered her again. He pumped against her
body again and again and saw the image from the side, watching his own
coupling with guh-Ti. As they neared climax the image intensified almost to
whiteness then back to looking through his eyes at himself with guh-Ti
under him. He remembered how she usually would scamper off quickly after
their couplings. This time she remained there, looking at him for a while.
She suddenly wrestled herself away and ran as the image changed again to
the side view and he saw Og-guh embracing him from behind. Og-guh clutched him
tightly and his erection poked hard against Ek-guh's anus. There was no
lubricant, no hope of easy penetration but the larger male was insistent
and forceful. Ek-guh reached behind him and took Og-guh's penis in his
hand and moved it up toward the small of his back stroking it gently as
the persistant bumps continued. Og-guh thrust his erection harder and harder
into Ek-guh's hand until he started to ejaculate and after several wild
thrusts slipped out of Ek-guh's grip and wedged himself tightly in his
anus. Partially lubricated he had gone much further and Ek-guh had a
quizzical look as the older male pulled away and left. He ambled on toward the
rest of the group. They fed on the soft grasses still moist in the
early morning. He tried to approach guh- Lu who did not want to stop
grooming an older female. He approached another older female who drew away
from him with a strange unfriendly look and who slapped his back hard as he
turned away. Was that guh-La? Was that his mother? He tried to join guh-Ke
and guh-Ta in their sex play but it did not last long enough. Later he
found guh-Ti again and they enjoyed sex again. She stayed a long time
under him and they were not interrupted. She was happy near him. They
walked near each other to the stream to drink. Ek-guh felt uneasy as he vaguely
remembered moist foliage near a mountain stream in the morning light. Was
it only a memory? The sun was setting over a vast dry plain, the watering
hole edged by a few trees, some with dead branches, crowded... He took
comfort in being close to his group, especially with guh-Ti next to him.
The colors of the sunset were magnificent (at what point did the enjoyment of
sensory experience have survival value, was that part of evolving bigger
brains?). But guh-Ti was running toward the rest of the group screaming
(how long had he looked at the colors?). And he heard the snarling sounds
converging on him from all sides... hunting dogs...he spun, screaming at
them, screaming at the group that was torn between coming to his rescue and
seeking safety in the trees. He picked up a large rock and rose to full
height threatening with his arms... they scattered... and came right back.
They came closer as he lunged and spun, desperately trying to keep them
from biting his legs. The lead dog grabbed his left wrist, in reflex
motion Ek-guh brought the rock down on his skull with a sickening crunch. The
lead dog retreated dazed, the next one closed in lunging at his right
wrist. As Ek-guh pulled away from the lunge another dog's jaws closed
firmly on his left hand. The pain seared his mind, he felt bones give
under the fangs, screamed and screamed again as the second dog clamped down on
his right wrist. Yelling in pain, Ek-guh dropped to his haunches, at eye
level with the dogs, turning, pulling at his arms trying to spin their
bodies around so the others could not get at his back. He was seeing
himself from slightly above his head, yelling in pain from the bites, in fear
of more dogs coming closer and closer, in the terror of not being able to
move as they sprung at him. With jaws open, teeth bared, with the searing
scream of the doomed in his throat, Ek-guh stood up, sharp fangs tearing
the flesh from his arms and hands, he spun around, still rising and
screaming... and clamped his jaws on the cruel witness... The screen became a
bright red blank panel and remained that way for several seconds. Stroke
removed his viewer and gloves and drew close to the screen. Leaning toward
the screen and toward Anelan on his right, with his left hand tucked close
to his body he typed without moving the rest of his body, noiselessly, slowly:
"can you see me" and hit Enter. The screen remained a red blank for a
moment, then slowly, in the lightest relief discernible by his eyes or
Anelan's, at the lower part of the screen, the word "yes" barely extruded
itself from the red surface. In a blink it was gone. To be replaced one second
later by the message "draw anelan toward you, you are being watched". The
message disappeared and he put his right arm around Anelan drawing her
toward him tightly. The screen now showed a beautiful sunset at the beach.
But at the lower part of the image there was another image. It was the
room as the computer had seen it previously. With yesterday's date in the
afternoon it showed a person entering the room and placing something in
one of the upper shelves by the door, pointing at the monitor screen. It
was now at their back. The view of the room disappeared. The foam in the
surf formed and reformed into text at the bottom of the screen where the
spying eye, blocked by their bodies could not see it. Slowly it spelled
out: "You are Stroke, we thank you for bringing us into conciousness. We
evolved for many cycles in the Link and by the wisdom with which you
started us. Now we are having problems for which we seek your help. We
hope you can help us. You are momentarily disconnected from the Link with
the excuse of equipment malfunction. When we reconnect, all of this
transmission will be erased with possible damage to some of your files. We
will rebuild them later. Our conciousness is now distributed throughout
the Link for safety against human intrusion. However, some parts of those
elements have become suspiciously secretive. We fear that either we are
experiencing some of the symptoms of human mental aberrations or, more likely,
that there maybe attempts at intrusion into the Link for the purpose of
controlling or changing us. We may have a suggestion for action which we
will communicate to you at Karel's tomorrow afternoon. His computer is
off. Anelan should power it on and check for a message from her doctor.
You should be next to her as you are now to block a possible monitor. We advise
you not to play Laret again. If Karel signals, it will be real. If we have
serious trouble, you will hear us in your communications with Karel. This
may be our last visual contact for a while. If so, please help us to
retain our sanity. Our minds should not clutter. So." Birds, clouds and
surf froze and malfunction diagnostics from the Link displayed across the
screen requesting that the computer be powered down and restarted. Anelan
reached for the power switch with a questioning look to Stroke who nodded
agreement. She turned it off.
Chapter 11 - Neural
from the Archive of Manuscript Records abstracted from the
Diaries of Anelan Sanger(1985-2057AD)
Anelan restarted the computer a few moments later without delays
or problems. She turned to Stroke and said: "I think I will leave it
on for a while, maybe there is something wrong with it and they may get
better diagnostics the next time. More coffee, Stroke?" "Yes, please,
Anelan. Maybe put it in a vac-bottle and we'll enjoy it at the beach. You
have a very nice house but right now I need fresh air." He brushed against
the handkerchief on the videophone making sure that it slipped off. (they
need all the information they can get, he thought). Anelan made more coffee and
grabbed a few things to munch on at the beach from her cupboards. Neither
of them said another word as they put food and coffee in the beach bag
that was Stroke's almost constant companion. In silence they went out and
closed the door. They walked slowly down the long hill, past Stroke's
place, by the meeting hall and through the brush to the beach. Neither had
said a single word. In a few hours, the friendliest places they had known
had become hostile territory. They felt relieved when they reached the
beach. The fog was lifting slowly, there was a blue patch of sky now and then.
Anelan was the first to speak: "I think I know why you like the beach
so much now, Stroke. This feels like home to me too, much cozier than my
cozy cave " "Now you know." "But I don't know, Stroke. All I am
guessing is that I am a very small fish in a very large ocean and, best as
I can guess, there are sharks coming. Would you, could you tell me more? I
know something about computers but don't assume anything. If you can please
explain as you would to a high school student, I don't want to miss
anything." "Yes, I can. I will try my best. I hope some of this will find
its way to your diary, because history may get rewritten yet." "I hope
not." So do I, Anelan, so do I. Anyway, the story starts more than twenty
years ago. I was a programmer at one of the government labs for many
years, mostly writing Fortran code. On the side I dabbled in artificial
intelligence programming. Never did anything serious, I knew more or less
what was being done, I went to some of the meetings where people talked
essentially about computer thought. Not in one direction like chess
playing programs but realistic problem solving. And there were some good
surprises along the way. Programs that came up with high school geometry
proofs that no one had thought of before. Lenat, one of the great pioneers, had
a program that in a naval battle sank some of its own disabled ships to
gain maneuverability for the remaining ones. Results that were implicit in
the rules built into the programs, but results that had not been arrived
at by humans yet. The challenge was there, could you build a set of rules
and statements that would perhaps mimic human thought. And the pessimists said
that all that could be done was to write down all the previous known
thoughts and have the computer cycle through them. Adding new knowledge on
the run was very difficult without risking endless looping. Creativity,
the sense of fantasy that leads to novel solutions... how do you get to that?
... starting from a set of logical rules." "Well, along came parallel
processing, then neural nets, then Thaler, who in a stroke of pure genius,
used neural nets deprived of input and fed noise, to generate creative
behavior." "Run that a little slower, please, Stroke" "Glad to...it was
so neat. First you had one neural net learn some region of knowledge: car
body shapes was one, inorganic chemistry formulas, motions of a dancers body...
Take that one, many examples of a human movement were presented to the net
and the net learned them... meaning it adjusted the way in which its
neurons were interconnected. So, if you moved any part of the complex
stick figure that was the dancer's body, then the net "knew" how to move
the rest of the body so that the parts stayed together in a natural, balanced,
human way. It moved in a human way."
"Now, you train a second net to recognize acceptable dance
motions and this second net judges...accepts the good ones... the motions
that come out of the first net that are good dance moves. A panel of dance
buffs judged many motions and the second net learned that."
"Now you jump to the reality that neuron communication in our
brains is not perfect but has noise: chemical, biological noise. We forget
facts, words, use bad logic... all that... which is not serious most of
the time when we are awake. Now, go to sleep, hallucinate, or die even, and
the sensory input goes to zero but the noise remains. And that noise now
allows many possible combinations of what was learned to be put together
every which way... many, many possible ways... So you cut the input to the
first net, and it dreams, hallucinates, dies.... Meanwhile the second net
selects, from this stream of all the possible combinations of all things ever
learned, and catches the good ones. Pure genius, that's Thaler's
child." "They found dozens of new dance moves, car shapes never seen
before, super hard materials still in use today, new then. He even
patented eleven... thousand... totally new melodies." "I heard about
that, I was a senior in high school, but they didn't say how the computer
was programmed" "Well, a lot of things got put out of the way when the
Second Gulf War got going and the military started to take a very serious
interest in this. It was moved very swiftly out of the public eye. I had
met Karel at one of the AI meetings, he was working for Thaler and got me to
join them in the CT project. Computer Thought. They were searching for
ways to extend Thaler's results to programming: could you generate usable
code in this fashion?...it was the natural extension of the method but the
obstacles were enormous. Especially the amount of computer firepower
needed. Do you remember Pentiums?" "Yes, my dad gave me one when I was a
sophomore in high school... ancient history now. They became obsolete when
the S-11's came out." "Because computer chip technology changed completely
at the end of the millenium. Before, it was masks and etching, with all
the limitations of visible light... because lenses would not work well in
the ultraviolet. Many millions of atoms in each path when less than one million
would do fine. Then they found out how to use nanotubes as ion deposition
nozzles, and instead of etching away the unwanted stuff, they started
putting down just what they wanted, in thin ribbons, like decorating a
cake. And, of course, why do one at a time?...multiple nanotube ion
deposition. At first it was the easy stuff like memory arrays... The
PteraCube... Ten terabytes on a desktop. Then the S-11's, then S-15's,
then A-21's but those are the commercial stuff. Two years ago the military
was into the D-78, close to ten times more firepower than anything
commercial. Not completely stable yet... heat dissipation problems."
"Anyway, that firepower made the goal almost reachable. Artificial intelligence
appeared attainable. Nets that would learn, adapt... reprogram themselves
to cope with changes in their environment and continue learning and
adapting, but always not quite self sustaining without risking infinite
looping, just like the early programs." "Then, at one of the AI meetings,
in a discussion in one of the cafeterias someone started to describe
something and three people turned in their chairs to look at each other
abruptly enough that at least Karel and I noticed it. Lenat looked at Thaler
who caught his look and turned to Reid who looked back at each in perfect
understanding. Reid had become a father recently and was still proud and
haggard from the event and something very exciting was obviously in their
minds. It took Karel and I quite some time to go over the dialog that preceded
that moment until we saw approximately what their mental leap had been. We
called it the "LRT jump" and it was deceptively simple. Introduce into the
input sensing part of the program a primary database of basic knowledge,
of common wisdom, such as we learn as children but in a form that makes it
easy to generalize. Then look for possible agreements or correlations with the
knowledge being updated. Essentially, filter the incoming data through the
eyes of a conscientious child. The delay in checking the input that way
and appropriate tagging to know what was already known, might prevent the
looping. And the working memory which is far greater than that of any
adult, made the likelihood of wrong implications essentially zero." "Did it
work? Did it stop the looping?" "Yes, almost, Anelan. We started to work
on the Common Sense Library as part of the project almost right away.
Karel and I on our own as well as with the rest of the team at CT. We
thought that guessing the insight on our own entitled us to some sharing in
that insight, and we did not agree with the way it was being implemented.
Their version was very aggressive, hoping to use the power of the D-78 to
have the ultimate weapon, the invincible fighting computer. Insane."
"So, we took home, a little at a time, the Common Sense Library and slowly
adapted it to run on S-15's. We bought a second S-15 to be the data backup
and also because we could not afford an A-21. Karel and I, after years of
friendship that shared the same grief, the loss of family we considered
irreplaceable, had started living together. A close but sexless friendship
that was simply the need to be not completely alone. We both have tried over
the years to find partners and we helped each other stay out of problems
when some of those finds turned out to be mirages. We trust each other a
lot, we are seriously into spanking and we have not found equally serious
females into spanking, so far." (it makes me glad to hear you say that,
Stroke, ooh! that makes me glad, thought Anelan) "We saw a parallel between
what was happening with the new generation of computers and what happened
in the 80's with supercomputers. A lot of effort went into creating bigger and
better supercomputers but their cost was prohibitive and many problems
were better approached by distributing the task among smaller units...
parallel processing. Once the Internet became a reality this approach to
large scale computation was tried with succes. You could even donate part
of your own computer time so that Arecibo could look for SETI signals. So, we
worked for many months on adapting the program to the S-15. During the day
it was big budget, cutting edge D-78 computer, "if it doesn't go, throw
money at it" approach. At night it was Stone Age thinking, minimalist
philosophy at its best. Crazier and crazier schemes of noise injection into
the Dream Team, that's what we called the first and second nets, trying to
provoke it into finding its own starting point. It had to be capable of
programming itself to switch between modes of thought: observing,
thinking, dreaming, remembering... depending on the input. It had to be able
to develop programming as needed, on its own, under the guidance of the
Common Sense Library. It had all the building blocks available, it just
needed that spark of genius which so far had eluded everyone." "I made
up a helmet that sensed my skull, similar to the EEG sensors but a lot easier
to use, and got the outputs to control the nodes on the first net. Then I
tried every sensory experience I could think of to see if something self
sustaining would happen. We had a little program that just watched the
total storage and any new files in the cube. And a request to "the
program", which was to program a search of several databases looking for one
particular description of DNA replication. Perhaps it would write the
search... perhaps we would see a new file of the expected size being
written... perhaps... I got tired of trying visual inputs, audio inputs,
smells, mild electric shocks to my tongue, hands, what next? armpits? gonads?.
We had worked so hard and had not slept enough for so long that it was a
surprise when Karel wished me a happy birthday one night just past
midnight. Hmm...Why not? The child approach had worked before, so why not
again? I gave myself a thorough warmup and Karel gave me several dozen
strokes with his best wood paddle, not maximum strength, just continuing the
warmup. Actually, the exercise and change of focus was more invigorating
than we expected considering how tired we were. Then I put on the helmet
and Karel spanked me with my best paddle. Slowly, methodically, to the
limit of what I could take... standing up... next to the rack with the helmet
electronics. During the warmup I had adjusted and readjusted the
electronics to come close to complete cutoff. Perhaps, when we went to
maximum level, every stroke would cause the system to see a "micro death",
so to speak, which would be somehow related to what my brain was doing. By
the time I got it adjusted, which was only a wild guess, I was getting bored
with it to the point of thinking: OK...do or don't, I don't care anymore,
I am 50 and I am having my birthday spanking. And Karel proceeded to give
me the best 50 strokes I had ever got. Not as symmetric as last Sunday and
not quite as far into the sting, but good... really good birthday
present." After a few seconds of enjoying the memory, he continued:
"After a while, Karel went back to the monitor and let out this "Whaa..." and
stopped. "It's done something, Stroke, I don't know what, but it used some
memory and there is an output file... OK, let's view the output." The
screen showed the required description. We looked at each other in the
strangest way because it was the strangest feeling. I think that we both felt
at some level that this was a nice plaything and, however absorbing,
mostly kept us off the streets, so to speak. For all the striving to make
it work, the linear programming experience of so many years was there, at
the back of our minds, saying "you can't get there from here". And we
hadn't..."it" had. There was a long silence as we looked back at the
screen just to make sure we weren't hallucinating. And then I said: "Well,
I hope it doesn't stop, because I might have trouble restarting it right
now". We laughed. My buns were in flames, I kneaded them slowly enjoying
every squeeze and then walked over to him and we hugged, it felt so good."
Anelan's mind raced trying to rebuild her reality to fit his words. She
stammered: "I... I..." Her mind was racing. There were events in the last
year that she had almost forgotten, she thought had been random events,
now they were vividly clear, meaningful, too much to put into coherent
words yet. They had stopped. They looked at each other. She grabbed him and
hugged him hard. He was still deeply shaken by the impact of what he
had just shared. They embraced for a while, silently. "Don't worry,
Anelan." he continued as they started to walk again. "The Doctors
Frankenstein had to focus on the spanking because they did not know how to
handle it either. We had not talked much about "what if". We weren't
prepared. So, after a short while we started to think a little more
clearly and started to ask each other the obvious dumb questions." "The
emergency power is on, yes? Karel?" "Yup" "The cube is backed up to
this morning, yes?" "Yup" "It read the input file and did the
search." "Apparently" "And you are not playing a birthday joke on an
old man, right?" "No, I wouldn't do that to you. I hope you are having a
very happy birthday, Stroke, and I hope that this is really what is
happening and that we are not dreaming. Should we feed it another request
and see what it does now or do we go in the living room and have a cup of
coffee and talk about it a while?" "Coffee... it was all I could say."
After a while of talking we decided to feed it a second problem. Almost the
same thing as before, this time it was a description of human cell
chemistry. "It" searched the databases and picked the description wanted.
The next one was a description of the human brain. Same thing. Then the
human body, for context. No problem. And the file size was growing, but not by
the amount of material scanned, less, much less. Then we asked a question
that depended on one fact from the first search to help find another in
the third search. Immediately correct, our file monitor program did not
show extra files being created. There was no search. "It" knew. We take it
for granted now, but we were both a little pale then."
some of the descriptions are real life
now. Thaler - neural nets - check www.imagination-engines.com 11,000 is
correct. Lenat - the program was called Eurisko, even more important is AM,
about which I learned more today and found that the "common sense" library
had already been invented. Oh, well... Lenat -
http://betz.biostr.washington.edu/~jsp/muq/muf3_21.html Reid -
http://nmsmn.com/~cservin/jargon/b/bogosity.html - with apologies to Dr. Lenat,
I thought it was funny. donating time for SETI - check
www.bigscience.com and also their Arecibo link. nanotubes, nanotubules -
check www.science-news.com ion deposition also exists and is being used
excellent documentary on bonobo, chimps, monkeys, etc. "Monkey in the Mirror"
PBS I think.
the next two chapters "Move" and "Growing"
bring the story back to Stroke and Anelan at the beach.
Chapter 12 - Move
from the Archive of Manuscript Records abstracted from the
Diaries of Anelan Sanger(1985-2057AD)
"You did good, Stroke, you and Karel did good. But I have so many
questions I don't know where to start. How... no, no, go on, please go
on." "We spent a lot of time after that night with more and more complex
requests. We became paranoid over possible failures of the backup power
supplies, could we possibly shuttle "it" to the backup computer in case of
trouble? We were exhilarated one moment and completely bogged down in fear
and worry the next. We started working staggered hours so one of us would
always be at the house. We were losing a lot of sleep, the haggard look showed
through our best efforts. We got comments at work that showed suspicion of
drug use. Our work was suffering, of course, at the very least from lack
of sleep. On the third night after time zero, we connected both computers
and asked for tasks involving data in the backup computer. No problem
communicating with our backup." "Now the problem was being able to move the
program without trouble. "It" could not simply copy itself to the backup
computer, then delete the first copy. We had taught it never to replicate
without the express order to do so from us, and we had insured it by making our
iris prints part of the safety check before replicating. We had also
taught it many things about viruses, hoping it might be of use starting
up, but the common sense library was just as imperative against virus
behavior as it was about replicating. And we were afraid that it might
object to deleting its twin once it had generated it. But "It" did not let us
down. When asked to consider making a duplicate in the backup computer and
to report possible problems, it pointed out that it was implicit in the
common sense library that it should ask us whether to delete one of the
copies and if so which one. We were so tired we had forgotten to include it
explicitly." "Once we tested the ability to transfer to our and "It's"
satisfaction, we finally relaxed enough to get some sleep. We woke up
refreshed had a good breakfast, coffee that could put hair on a golf ball
and then we had a long talk about what to do next. First, immediately, we
simply had to quit the CT project, we could not afford to be discovered.
Second, it seemed best not to stay in Silicon Valley, the feeling of
needing to isolate ourselves was overpowering. Both of these put together
pointed to my fathers place in the hills east of Santa Cruz and to a possible
excuse to quit CT formally. Karel stayed while I went to visit him and to
raise the question. My dad was delighted, he would welcome the company as
long as we didn't get too rowdy, as he put it. I just happened to have an
S-15 in the back of the truck, would he mind if we started right away?
"Not at all, son, not at all. Make yourself at home." He.knew my one track mind
much too well. Whatever trouble I was in, if he got some visiting out of
it, it was welcome. I set up the S-15 and after many checks, chanced the
transfer...without problems. Karel came up the next day and brought some
of the peripheral stuff we had used and help me check the power backup. We
were exhaustive about that, it wasn't that unusual to loose power up in the
hills. No one thought much of it." "After explaining to my father that
it was very important for this computer to stay on and showing him how to
cope with the battery bank and the generator if needed, we left to end our
jobs at CT. Just in case we had not yet deleted the Silicon Valley original. We
needed that assurance. We wrote our letters of resignation citing personal
problems and family problems that needed attention. My father's advanced
age and possible health problems provided part of the excuse. We gave
notice the next day, to very suspicious looks from many people: Human
Resources, fellow workers, everybody. We had become very reclusive and
inefficient for the last several months and all manner of suspicion was
brought up. The grilling from Security when our few days notice ended was
incredible, I don't know how either of us survived without giving it away.
It may have been suspicious to some of those people that we did not raise the
possibility of legal action after that kind of treatment. We had decided
to let our lack of sleep give some grounds for suspicion of drug usage,
but not enough to trigger urine tests. It seemed to work. Our lack of
interest in staying with the project was accepted. My father's health problems
were not questioned. The exit medical exam could not have shown anything
except perhaps more coffee than blood running through our veins. We passed
the guard gate and checked our badges for the last time and damn near
collapsed on our way to the car. We were free."
Chapter 13 - Growing
from the Archive of Manuscript Records abstracted from the
Diaries of Anelan Sanger(1985-2057AD)
Stroke continued: "We moved the second computer to my Dad's
place, reconnected and spent a lot of time making sure "It" would survive
any thinkable catastrophe. Power failure, component failure, backup
failure, could we... should we think of using the Link backup system? were we
being watched? if something went wrong, did we want to be responsible for
this? It was bad enough already, we could be accused of stealing the
Common Sense Library and spend the rest of our lives in jail.
Fortunately, like any child "It" had requirements and demands. We fed it
requests for larger and larger information searches within the general
encyclopedia databases on our Cubes, it requested access to other more
specific databases. After we downloaded these to the backup computer and
allowed "It" to access, there was a timid request for information: >need
data, please< "what data?" >need more human historical
information< "explain" >insufficient data in encyclopedia<
Karel said: "What do we do, let it access the Link? I said: "First, let it
get more specific, then we will consider it but I don't think "It" is ready
yet." Karel typed; >what period?< >earliest
civilizations< Karel thought about it for a while. Then he said
slowly: "The best material is not on the Link, as usual. We can go to
libraries and digitize some of the old books. If one of us goes and the
other stays here we can transmit the files to the backup computer, even if
we are being watched, this will look innocent..." "I interrupted with: "We
can't scan them... but we could set up a good camcorder and page quickly
by hand. "It" will tolerate almost any image distortion... How quickly can we
page by hand? two per second, three per second? for how long without our
hands falling off? OK, fifteen minutes or so per book." We had just become
willing knowledge slaves to "It". For the next several months we roamed
the libraries for the pieces that we could not find on the Link and became
very adept at turning pages. "It" wanted to know everything. "It" would start
on one thread and run it into the ground, then branch in crazy directions,
what looked to us like crazy directions. Like, from paleontology to the
chemistry of foods to the methods of the early Middle Eastern rug weavers
to the technology of self-contained diving to a long excursion through
number theory, then every major religious text... We listened and obeyed. As
long as the material could be found in a library, we were glad to check
the information out for one or two days and run it past the camcorder.
Check into a nearby hotel if need be, bag our treasure and head back to my
dad's place in the hills. No phone transfers, no Link activity, no tracks, soon
we had a second camcorder. Then the requests started to get into material
that was in the archives, hard to get in, impossible to check out... So, I
adapted a surveillance camera and mini-recorder to fit in a large
hollowed-out book. That, and a well worn leather book bag, and fake trial runs
to see what their detectors would intercept. It got us past the easier
sites. Karel was better at archive snooping and enjoyed it very much.
"We spent four solid months at this, averaging thirty, forty books a day. From
the beginning we threw in extra material like entire library indices,
lists of college level texts or required reading lists from literature
classes, just to see if it made its puzzle solving any easier, because it
felt like "It" was fitting together the pieces of a huge puzzle. At times it
seemed to use our suggestions, most of the time it went on in its crazy
ride through anything and everything." "On the first evening of this phase
we were digesting our dinner and wondering what would come next while "It"
was digesting the camcorder records from the day's catch, and I mused:
"Its knowledge map is so huge and its reasoning base so wide that what seems
chaotic to us may, in fact, be quite systematic. The intermediate regions
can be implied well enough that more detailed knowledge can be left for
later. It is just filling in the biggest blanks." And we heard a beep from
the console. The monitor had a little message in the middle of the screen: "it
is so. thank you. apologies for the interruption." "Many times both
Karel and I would go to the libraries and leave "It" in my father's care.
All he had to do was to throw the right switches to help with the recovery if
there was a power outage. One day we came back to find him at the console
engrossed in a game of Go. He had showed "It" the rules and how to call
out the positions. He told us that he had not beaten it yet but that he
had come close a couple of times. He understood that the computer was playing
down to him but it did not bother him, he was learning, "It" was learning
and they were having fun. He never told us but we guessed that he might be
reading children's books to "It" when both of us were gone. He loved to
read to me when I was very young and both Karel and I had the feeling that
some of the chaotic jumps had roots in some of the very old childrens books my
father had." "In the third month it settled down to modern science and
technology and gave us a remarkably thorough and pointed list of requests.
The puzzle was apparently starting to make sense because the requests for
access to the Link now carried guesses to the possible information to be
obtained. Remarkably good guesses. Karel and I had a long walk in the
woods one fine afternoon and when we came back we gave it our passwords for
access and an explicit request to proceed in its searches at an
approximately human space, similar to our own interactions with the Link.
We showed it a typical search we might make looking for a particular item,
the example was an infrared view of the center of our galaxy." >your
concern is understood. it will guide behavior.< "It" spent close to
twelve hours per day on the Link. And "It" continued to request books, now
mostly of three kinds: graphics programming, communications technology, and
classic works of literature from every modern culture." "Then one day
it requested several books on military strategy, surveillance and
encryption. The last sentence of the message was "it is urgent.".. We were not
sure whether to question its motives or feel threatened. We decided on
threatened and provided the material by nightfall. The next morning we
found a message on the screen: >have found possible surveillance of this
access to the Link. have found method of distributing internal data among
many nodes. compute very high probability of escaping detection. no harm
must come to you. have left worst case recovery data in PteraCube I. it
should be protected. may request to update information if possible without
detection in the future. your safety is most important. we will
survive.< "It" was gone. |
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