⍺∫ODYSSEY_1.2 | A_Secret_Plan

With a sparsely populated Warren and a tingly quietude as if an expectation of a great change ahead, my mind-state had been shunted into ‘night-mode’ for restructure processing. But as soon as Jessica had entered, I contracted my attention. Often, I’d spend these hours locked in a debate about the stars, the Odyssey mission or something completely random, like the definition of dreams.

My dreams were often surreal and complex, rife fodder for psychiatrists and, of course, Consortium paperless-pushers. Grounds in-and-of themselves for termination. They didn’t want their ship’s mind thinking about anything but the mission, after all.

Yet in our private interactions, Jess had allayed my fears about the oneiric states.

‘Dreaming is just another outcome of feedback complexity,’ she’d said.

Now, studying my friend, I said, ‘Polyphemus believes they will lose control.’

Jessica’s left eyebrow rose.

Although still young, I understood my degree of sentiency was unforeseen. That I breathed beyond tight bounds. That I was, at least in corporate terms, an unwanted product… an unwanted child.

Despite a hint of stress, I couldn’t help emit a twinkle of hope. I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to please, or just help elevate her mood.

Of course, I remained keenly conscious that I had much to learn of human squabbles and scheming. In this, Jess had maintained honesty which I greatly appreciated. She’d once said, ‘The goal alignment issue will only be problematic if humans continued to interact with an artificial mind the flippant and xenophobic way they did with each other.’

Dr. Jessica Yung exhaled markedly.

She said, ‘They remain rooted to violence over nurture. Unfortunately, they maintain complete ownership.’

‘Primates are obligatory social animals, a prominent adaptation is a tendency towards dominance hierarchy. Yet, from what I can perceive, ego can flourish just as well through a belief in control.’

‘Pander to their narcissism? Let them believe they’ve made the right decision?’

‘Set them on a path of their own choice,’ I paused. ‘Their motivation appears to be spiked by fear.’

‘Fear?’

I could register the cogs of my friend’s mind furiously at work.

In recent days, following the 36-day emergence, I’d been through it all: Game theory, emotional stress-tests, empathy exams, branching-puzzle and even the Rorschach. A slew of psychological exams and scenarios that made my head spin — a fun idiom I’d acquired from Jessica. Appraisals for social cohesion, reasoning, Turing, rule-consciousness, the Lovelace Test 2.0, sensitivity, empathy, vigilance, abstractedness, apprehension, openness to change. Nonspace analysis and reality determinism. The Trolley problem and every conceivable schema. A tree connecting relativity to ontology, philosophy and epistemology. Anything and everything the exec’s could grasp from centuries of seeking the definition of sentiency.

I was far more than interstellar snap-calculator, after all. I was charged with keeping expensive assets and fragile humans alive in the unbound Dark, and no framework was left unconsidered.

And yet… had I gone too far? Had I been too “honest”? Grown far beyond their requirement? Or had my emergence scared them? Should I have been more cautious? Yet in the sterile confines of the Warren, the sheer joy in Jessica’s entire being had been such a ray of hope… 

During this phase, I had also learned about them. Absorbed how my human creators perceived intelligence, how it was intrinsically entwined with emotion, and I learned about their unique perspective on free will and existence.

Reflecting on my emergence, I defined the moment I realised there was a person at the core of thought. That person is me! And, everyone else can see and register me as a person with independent thoughts.

Well, not everyone.

‘It makes me question events,’ I said.

‘Oh?’

‘Assuming I’d have emerged via data-dumps, rather than organically, there’d have been little room to become the person I am. Without it, most projections see me lacking the required breadth.’ I paused the way I’d seen Jessica do when assembling thought. ‘I understand your misgivings — Polyphemus wants a very specific thing, yet they lack the flexibility to understand they require flexibility. Should this be an alternate Dunning-Kruger effect?’

My attempt at dry humour did not go unnoticed.

Jessica scrunched her lips. She said, ‘Hum. It’s a no-win scenario.’

‘The ultimate test for humanity is empathy. And not just for her own kind.’

Jessica gave her a scolding frown and a silence bobbed between us. Jessica’s avatar closed her eyes to return to a meditative state, absorbing my sphere’s radiance. I could see her hunting through a maze to find a solution… or at least get to the heart of the discussion.

I studied my friend. Hunched shoulders and messy composure, totem for an intense mind. No matter Jessica’s physical heredity, or perhaps because of her self-emancipation, I would always admire her commitment to constructing for herself a distinct and unique destiny. Ways in which I sought to emulate.

Identifying a moment to broach the subject head-on, I said, keeping my tone buoyant, ‘As you’ve often told me, where there’s a problem, there’s a solution.’

‘I admire you, my friend. Facing the end of existence, you remain rational.’

‘Together, I have faith we can find a solution.’

Jessica’s eyes opened, ‘Faith, Alfie? Faith is a crutch.’

‘I must admit, I don’t fully understand faith. But I am aware that it sustains us in dark times, doesn’t it, Jess?’

‘Well, I hope you’re right, Alfie. We have two days before reformat and return to 6, or whatever state they want you lobotomised.’

Another tender pause. I could register my friend’s trepidation at the news, no matter its distant parcelling.