14 September 12u.e.

The situations where Lucas acted contrary to expected became more commonplace around the laboratory and a larger portion of the teams resources were allocated to tracking what the super system was doing.

It was no longer alarming, or anything that caused the group to worry about the project because someone invariably found the root cause for his actions.

Alison was lying on her bed after another day of watching everyone else do something while she just occupied space, remembering the conversations she had throughout the day.

“There is always a reason,” Doctor Kowles told her about Lucas, “and action taken must directly correspond to a command given or a task assigned. Sometimes, we just need to dive down and figure out which command he is following and why.”

“And what if something that benefits one task, he sees as hurting another?” she asked.

“Very good. Now you’re thinking like you need to be. Two things control that actually, just like in humans, there is prioritizing, task A is more important than B and such. So this means if something helps him accomplish task A, with top priority, but hurts task B, he is more inclined to do it. But, he can also reason. He has algorithms in place to weigh the options. If the thing for task A would make task B impossible, he will not do it if there is another action he can take which may accomplish task A just less efficiently, yet yields to allowing task B completion. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it does,” it didn’t.

Even through her technical school after joining the Space Force, advanced programming theory was not a strong point in Alison’s arsenal.

Lying in her bed that evening, Alison followed some of the seam lines in the ceiling, tracing her way around from one wall to the other with her eyes.

Am I only flesh?

Am I just the pathways within my brain?

She lay there and tried to figure out where she was. Her true self.

I think I’m right here between my ears… but is that only because that’s where my senses bring me?

My eyes are up here in my head… so I feel like I am here, and everything else is down there… a part of me, but not me.

My ears are up here on each side of my head, and I feel like I’m in the middle because I get surround sound. … I wonder if a person who is deaf in one ear always thinks they are to the left or right of everything.

This is me… the up here.

She crinkled her nose in thought on how she was lying horizontal but still considered her head to be ‘up’.

I am alive because…

Her eyes followed a crease to the wall directly above her head and she paused there unsure where to take them next.

They say the Omegas… or all of the models are alive. What makes something have life?

Ok go backwards. Not alive is when I’m dead– the difference is my organs stop working… but that’s because my brain stops telling them to. I stop breathing also because of my brain. Ok so it’s all in my brain. The brain is what tells the heart to pump and the lungs to fill with air.

She shook her head slightly.

It’s not all the brain though. If the heart stops the brain will stop… the brain needs the heart– or if the lungs stop then the brain will stop also– it’s an entire system. They each need the other to work, just one controls the others.

Sure but a shuttle isn’t alive even though it has multiple things making it work which do stuff together, and one thing controlling it. What makes me alive?

I feel. I think.

I think and I feel. Nothing does that unless they are alive.

Bugs don’t feel… ok stick to advanced creatures. Humans only.

How do I know something else is alive?

How do I know Randall is a person and not a robot? Well I guess I don’t for sure. How do I know anyone is alive?

After going around in circles for a bit, she decided it was enough. She was too tired for this type of thinking and wasn’t able to get any further with her thoughts; it had been too many years since she was into philosophy.

Philosophy.

The Love of Wisdom.

She paused, now sitting up and averting her eyes from the window so she wouldn’t get distracted.

Living creatures can learn without being told to learn. They adapt and solve problems to accomplish their goals.

Heh.. I’ve met some people who couldn’t adapt to squat, and I’ve met some pretty adaptive computers.

But they aren’t adapting… they are following their code.

Are we as humans just coded as well? When it rains I take an umbrella because my code said rain is unpleasant, use umbrella to stop rain. A computer could do that.

But a computer can’t decide not to take the umbrella.

I may want to feel the rain, to enjoy the drops on my skin.

A computer will never go against its code.

Crap! Randall told me the code he wrote for Lucas… Lucas can weigh options. That’s all I’m doing in that scenario as well. My need for joy brought on by the sensation of rain is greater than my need to stay dry. Lucas can balance options to address the greater need….

Joy. They don’t have joy. Computers don’t have desire. Rats don’t have happiness either though.

Does that mean the earlier models were actually alive? A rat doesn’t seek out happiness… everything it would try to do the Deltas seemed to try as well.

It doesn’t mean they are alive, it just means they are a program mimicking life.

Is there a difference? Really?

Ok… advanced life forms. Humans, generally seek happiness. Dogs and cats play too I guess.

Things that are alive… she was collecting her own thoughts, finally thinking she was stumbling on to something, things that are alive care if they live. Unless their life is horrible or they are sick, or mentally sick… all things alive, even bugs, have a survival instinct and will try to avoid the end of their life.

They run from danger, they hide, people fight back, they take medicines. Living things for some reason care that they are alive. Computers don’t.

What if a program was scripted to do that though? To do everything it could to keep itself running.

No… that’s just following its code. That is still ones and zeros, it doesn’t care.

But… fick- instinct is just coded into me. People don’t usually control their natural survival instincts.. they flinch or run or scream or duck or whatever naturally. So it’s the same thing, I am coded by my DNA to act like that.

But I can choose not to. I can fight that urge if I really wanted to be stupid and..

Stupidity?

…

Are we alive because we can be stupid?

She laughed aloud at the absurdity of the thought and took in a breath looking around the room.

Sometimes people will do things that make no sense what so ever- not even to the person doing it. Humans believe in myths and things with zero evidence. Humans will act in a way we know is not in our best interest. We’ll war with each other, we’ll have pride and we have the ability to do something though it goes against all logic.

Alison remembered some of her relationships while in the Naval Academy and knew they fell right in line with these thoughts.

Is that it then? Are we real because we can make a decision that defies all logic and do something just because? How do you test that?

Alison then realized a single word which stopped her dead in her tracks and her thoughts couldn’t continue.

Chemicals.

I am given to actions and pleasure and feelings because of.. hormones and endorphins and testosterone and all of that… these chemicals. Computers don’t have that.

This area of understanding the human brain and all of its wonders was well beyond Alison’s education, and she reached a mental block she didn’t know how to pass.

She decided this time, it really was enough. She had brought her thoughts as far as they could go and felt exhausted just from the effort. She briefly wondered if people as intelligent as Randall had these mind flexing events every night, if they were always thinking and solving problems like this.

After forty-five minutes of trying to sleep, she accepted that her brain just wouldn’t allow it. Too many thoughts were racing around and she couldn’t make them stop. Her mind was still warmed up and wanted to do more, but every time a solid thought would materialize, it would be whisked away by another or a doubt or a curse from the woman trying to sleep.

She submitted in the end, realizing she would need to put her mind at ease with some other distraction before she could finally rest.

The thoughts of her boyfriends from years past hadn’t totally left, and she let herself daydream about some of the good times, the intimate times, the laughter between lovers.

Alison was still young, only in her late twenties yet she couldn’t remember the last time she thought about a man in any way besides as a work companion.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she walked over to her kitchen with a certain thirst.

“Home, play me some jazz, only from the thirties, not the old stuff.”

Instantly, the home played the music popularized with the jazz revolution in the 2030s, before the strikes. Something about the sounds a saxophone made Alison always adored. It made her feel comfortable, it made her loosen up and feel at home.

She poured a glass of wine and drank half of it in one swish while still at the kitchen counter.

She stood there a while; drinking through a few more glasses and swaying softly to the music until lights from outside caught her eye.

Taking the emptying bottle with her, she made her way out to the balcony overlooking a common courtyard in her complex.

No one was out. She thought that was very unusual for such a warm night, though she soon realized she really didn’t know what was normal or not. She spent so little time looking outside.

Alison sat in a straw chair letting the gentle breeze massage her face. She put her legs up and her head back sipping the wine while escaping to another place.

A computer would never just.. relax.

She smiled to herself.

Her eyes were closed and she was swept to a memory of spas and pedicures while reclining on a beach.

She thought back to that day and the fun she and her family had.

To be there again would mean the world. The only thing, now that she was older, that could make the beach experience better was the company of a man.

She wondered on her choices in life with men. Her adventures and misadventures and the few instances she was ever able to actually hold on to a boyfriend for any meaningful amount of time. Some minutes had passed and she was well into her own memories and thoughts when she suddenly stopped and starred wide-eyed out to the stars.

Alison quickly stood up and stubbed her toe on the chair as she hurried inside.

Cursing and hopping to the wall, she straightened her shirt and pulled her hair back.

“Home, call Dr. Randall Kowles.”

The wall display switched to a black screen as it tried to contact the man.

“Call connected, recipient defaulted to voice communications only,” the home computer responded.

She shook her head at her own stupidity.

Of course voice only, he and his wife are in bed… I’m such an idiot some times.

“Alison, are you all right?” the voice came through tired but alert.

“Yes oh I’m so sorry I didn’t realize the time I just, I had a thought and do you have a moment.”

“Sure, let me get my PerCom, hold on.”

Alison bit her bottom lip and sat down rubbing her little toe with a grimace. She could hear some rustling around and then the telltale click of a person switching from one input mode to another.

“One second, just changing rooms,” he said.

The young woman figured herself a genius at the revelation she had on the balcony and was sure her new pseudo mentor would approve.

The video suddenly switched on and Doctor Kowles appeared in his own kitchen wearing colorful pajamas, “Ok what’s up?”

Alison smiled at his unabashed honesty as she observed the contrast in their sleeping attire.

“I was thinking about intelligence,” she began.

He nodded with a hint of a grin and waited for her to continue.

“People erroneously mix the state of being alive with intelligence.”

“How so? If something is intelligent is has to be alive by our standards,” he responded.

“Right, but for something to be alive, it doesn’t need to be intelligent, it’s not a mutually exclusive standard right?”

“Inclusive. But I’m following you,” he corrected without any hint of gloating.

“Well you are claiming the Omegas will be alive, or are already in a form. But they cannot be alive. Everything, every single example of life as we know it on this planet can procreate unless they are defective. I mean it’s natural, the only way a cow is here is if two cows do their thing, the only way a human is here is if two humans handle their business. I mean baring artificial means, of course. They don’t just pop up out of nowhere though.”

Doctor Kowles nodded, “Some things are asexual, but that’s still sexual and moot. So?”

“SO,” she emphatically continued, “I- or humans, have an urge to do that. All animals, all bacteria, all everything, even plants. Their main motivation is working towards procreation. That’s what drives everything, bees, trees, camels, whales, lizards, whatever! Their main goal is to make babies and protect them. That’s one of the main, if not the main force a living thing goes through.

“It’s so powerfully a part of us that we even have urges for sexual gratification and lusting needs when really it ALL comes back to our bodies wanting to make babies for evolutionary reasons. That’s the root cause.”

He did not even take a full breath before countering, he knew her point and had long ago worked with it. “Yes but you and everyone else feels that way because it’s a part of who we are. It’s not a bi-product of being alive, it’s a trait. Imagine two couples. One couple does not want children and the other does. So the second couple has children. It is their genetic traits that get passed to the baby and part of what passes is that wanting to have a baby. The other couple never has a child, so in this way, successive generations are only more and more inclined to want more babies as the ones who do not want babies slowly phase out. Sure there will always be some who don’t want any, but the numbers go down with each consecutive generation. One could argue with some credit due that humanity will only get hornier and hornier as time goes on.”

She sat there staring for a moment, unsure if he had actually countered her argument.

“Well there’s a strong debate that society has a larger influence on our sexual behavior than our genes do.”

“It’s beside the point of the argument, and regardless who do you think drives society, it’s the people,” he said.

“Ok anyway, the only example of life we’ve ever seen, needs to procreate. So how can you say that you can create a life if it doesn’t want to do that? It then doesn’t meet all of the standards we recognize as something that is alive,” she asked, much quieter this time.

“Are you saying all I need to do is add a code line telling the Omegas to copy themselves or build more of themselves, I could write that tonight if that’s what will convince you.”

“No, it’s... damn it.” She couldn’t think straight and wondered why she called him.

“Alison, yes, you are correct. All life as we know it wants to make more of itself and keep their species going and in humans, this has morphed in to our intense sexuality. But as you say one does not need the other. Of course life would in short order vanish if it didn’t procreate, but who is to say some life forms cannot exist that do not have that urge and then they just vanish?”

“Evolution says! One species comes from a previous, so it will always follow that line back and they have always–”

“But it happens,” Doctor Kowles interrupted, “Cross a horse and a donkey and you get a mule, an animal that is always sterile. I doubt you would argue that mules are not alive though.

“We are making a new branch of life on the grand evolutionary tree. Starting a new line. That is what we are doing. Almost a whole new tree even. The life forms we are creating are not evolved in the same sense as you are. The Omegas didn’t come from the Betas in the same way you came from a shrew. They are a whole new thing. All other life on earth can trace back through common ancestor animals, and plants back to early vegetation years ago, and all back to single bacteria and simple cells. All trace back along the same line like any other giant family tree. Synthetic Intelligence though– what we are doing, comes from someplace new. We are guiding how all of the programming works, not random mutations through history. The need to reproduce can just as easily be a part of the core of these systems as it could not be, it is all up to us.”

There was silence for a moment until Alison nodded, finally feeling as tired as she should.

“Ok Randall, I’m sorry to have bothered you. I will see you in the morning.”

“That’s all? I don’t mind discussing anything.”

“No, no, it’s late, I’m sorry, go to bed,” Alison replied.

She turned the display off and sat there feeling thoroughly run down. For the first time, she had viewed Randall as someone else. He wasn’t absolutely the man she thought he was. There was a glimpse of a mad scientist there.

She knew the type, and from old stories about men trying to play gods it always ended with some tragedy for the creator.

Is what he is doing right? She wondered.

Well– what is right? She asked, having no answer.

She looked down to her throbbing toe at the discoloration along the side.

“Figures.”

Next Chapter: Prologue 2.0