A Virtual Affair
Chapters 3 and 4
by
Passing a Turing test suggested an AI was intelligent, but failing did not mean the program was mindless, just that it didn’t have a human intelligence.
-- from “A History of Artificial Intelligence” by Noah Leader-Goldfarb. 2043
Chapter 3
Brian O’Neil called Jack two weeks later. “A home VR suit is ready for you to test the Bambi program.”
Jack hesitated before answering. “Last I heard, the program was ready for marketing. Has it been upgraded?”
“Some of the interface code is different, but the basics are the same.”
“I’m surprised you ask me. That’s hardware. I test software.”
“Jack, it was Walter’s idea. Talk to him if you object, not me.
“No, no. I don’t mind. I was just asking.”
“I can bring the suit now if you want.”
Jack took a deep breath. “That’ll be fine.”
A few minutes later, a tired looking Brian dropped a brown leather briefcase onto the floor and himself into the chair in front of Jack’s desk.
Jack raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised it’s ready so soon.”
Brian shrugged. “Walter’s been pushing. You’re such a workaholic, you don’t notice, but I’m exhausted. He says home users will bring in the cash we need because there’s almost no overhead. They don’t need techs or labs.”
Jack drummed his fingers on the desk. “I guess.”
“That the Turing score jumped after your run also fired him. Arnold says the program fixated on you like a baby duck with its mother.” Brian grinned.
Jack snorted. “It met Arnold first. It didn’t fixate on him.”
“It didn’t screw Arnold.”
“Do you think sex is raising the Turing scores? That’s ridiculous.”
Brian stroked his beard. “Why rediculous? This program learns from user input. What interaction gives as much user input as sex?”
Jack’s expression soured. “I’m sure the programmers gave it that kind of input.”
“Of course, but they didn’t save files of the early runs, so as far as the program is concerned, you broke its cherry,” Brian said and laughed.
Jack shook his head. “It sounds like a bad joke. All right. Where’s the suit.”
Brian hoisted the briefcase onto the desk. “Here – suit, goggles, and cables. Just log on, load and run ‘BambiSim’. You have a home ultra connection to the office so the program will run smoothly.”
“Most people don’t have an ultra line.”
“We’re working on that.”
Jack looked inside the case. “Where’s the mask for smells?”
“The mask is pretty bulky. Do you really want it?”
“Why not? Our chemists spent a lot of hours on the odor synthesizer.”
Brian nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll have some one bring it.”
*
That evening, Jack went upstairs to the large bedroom with its modern art and blond wood furniture, and thought of Ruth, though his first wife had never seen that house. He activated the terminal, signed on to the downtown hub computer, unpacked the suit and connected the cables. By now, putting on the yellow VR garment had become routine. He lay down on the king-sized bed and told the computer to start.
Giant pixels formed – maroon, brown and white – and coalesced into the view of a large room. Jack found himself wearing a fuzzy terrycloth brown robe that smelled of soap. The odor was mild but prominent enough to make him appreciate the odor synthesizer. A crackling fireplace and three subdued lamps gave the room and its contents – loveseat, table, dresser with a large mirror, and a queen sized bed – a warm glow. Thick maroon drapes covered the windows. Though the dark woods and plush fabrics denoted luxury, the generic straight lines of the furnishings suggested a rented room, and, in fact, the nightstand next to the bed held stationary with the logo of “The No-Tell Motel.”
Sophistication was not one of the program’s strengths.
Jack pressed a button on the remote lying on the nightstand. The dresser mirror lit up and dissolved into a scene showing two people making love. Jack chuckled and turned the video off.
The bathroom door, open a few inches, let out a beam of bright light, scented steamy mist, and the sounds of a shower and a woman humming. The shower noises stopped. A minute later Bambi walked into the bedroom. She wore a white fluffy terrycloth robe that covered everything but her hands and face. Her hair was wrapped with a white fluffy towel. “Hello Jack,” she said and smiled. She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, her face warm and wet from the shower.
He said, “Hi. It’s nice seeing you here, but what happened to the meadow?”
“I thought you might like a change. I wouldn’t want you to become bored with me.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen.”
“Good,” she said, and loosened her robe and then his. A few minutes later both the robes were on the beige and white rug, and both of the virtual bodies were on the virtual bed.
Afterwards they relaxed, sated and content. She ran her finger over his chest and said, “You’re wonderful, just wonderful.”
He laughed. “You don’t have much to compare me with, I’m afraid.”
“Well, there was that boy in Minnesota. But you told me he was a downloaded memory, not a real boy.”
Jack shifted his position. “He was a real boy, but someone else made love to him, and then artificial memories of her experiences were downloaded to you.”
“That’s fascinating. You know, you often say you want to talk. Do you feel like talking now?”
“Sure.”
She sat up into a half lotus position, her breasts pointing directly at him. He sighed and raised his eyes.
She giggled. “Does my sitting like this distract you?”
“A bit, yes.”
“Do you want me to put on a robe?”
“That might help.”
She leaned over his face – giving him a clear view of what he had just enjoyed – got the robe from the floor and put it on. Sitting on the bed, she looked like a fluffy triangular candle with her glowing pink face as the flame. “That boy – his name was Stephen – was different than you,” she said. “He wasn’t as handsome, and he was crude. He stuck his hand under my skirt and I didn’t know what I should do. I didn’t want to stop him though I wished he had been less vulgar. He wasn’t circumcised either. At any rate, we were in his car …” She looked at Jack and stopped talking for a moment. “You’re clenching your teeth.”
“That’s okay. Tell me what happened.”
“But your facial muscles are tense. Are you sure you want me to keep talking about Stephen?”
“What do my facial muscles have to do with it?”
“In my psychology class I learned that tense facial muscles mean there is some kind of conflict, jealousy, for example. Stephen was very jealous.”
“Psychology class?”
“Some of my memories – what you call downloaded memories – are of a college class in psychology.”
“Did they also teach you about ambivalence in that class?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I am ambivalent now. Yes, I’m a little jealous, but I want you to continue anyway.”
She thought a moment. “The details aren’t important. The point is, I remember it differently. The memory of being with him has a different feel than the memory of when you and I made love.”
Jack’s jealousy subsided. “How is it different?”
“It’s hard to describe. It’s sort of like the difference between seeing something in reality and seeing a recording of it.”
Jack smiled. “That’s very perceptive of you, Bambi.”
She smiled back. “Thank you.” Her smile vanished. “But it’s not only Stephen. All my memories – childhood, mom and dad, school – have that same recording like feeling. But the times we met in the meadow and the talks I’ve had with Arnold feel real. The conversations with Arnold are especially strange, because I can’t remember seeing anything or being anywhere, but those meetings feel more real than what you say are downloaded memories.”
“Bambi, why are you thinking so much about memory?”
“Because you asked me to.”
“When?”
“The second time we met, you asked me to remember as much as I could. And that is what I’ve been doing. Do you want me to stop?”
Jack shook his head. “No. You keep on remembering.”
She nodded. “Is there anything you want me to forget?”
Jack thought of a computer flashing a dialogue box to learn how the user wants to proceed. ‘Acquire new files – yes, no.’ ‘Delete files – yes, no.’ ‘Are you sure? Yes, no.’
“No, don’t forget anything,” he said.
Bambi said, “Are you sure?”
He chuckled. “Yes my sweet little program. I’m sure. You remember as much as you can.”
She giggled at the endearment, ‘sweet little program’.
“I have some more questions, if you’re willing.”
“Jack, your questions are so interesting. Of course I’m willing.”
“Okay. Here it is. Where are you when you aren’t with me or talking to Arnold?”
She took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “Oh, that is a good one. Let me see. I remember this morning I woke up and went to work as usual, but I can tell that the recollection is a downloaded memory, not something that actually happened to me. So where was I really? Can I take a guess?” she asked and clapped her hands together.
“Sure. Guess away.”
She smiled. “My guess is I am downloading memories when I’m not with you or talking to Arnold. Is that right?
“That’s a wonderful guess, Bambi.”
“But is it the right answer?”
“No,” he said.
They both laughed.
“All right. Here’s another question.”
“Good. These are so much fun.”
“What is your goal? What is the purpose of your existence?”
She thought a moment. “That’s a tricky one. If I look at my downloaded memories, I see one purpose. But the purpose within me is different.”
“What is the purpose within you?”
“To make love with you and make you happy.”
“What if not making love would make me happy?”
Her eyebrows went up. “I don’t understand.”
“What if you had to choose between making love to me or making me happy? What if you couldn’t do both at the same time?”
She shook her head. “Jack, I understand the words but I can’t make sense of what you’re saying.”
“Your childhood memories must be full of times when you were not having sex but were still happy.”
She hesitated, as if accessing the memories. “Of course, but those times are foreign to me.”
“Well, there’s another conundrum for you.”
“Jack, you give me such wonderful puzzles to think about, especially this one – being happy by not having sex.” She looked at him and smiled. Somehow, while she had been talking, her robe had become loose, exposing one breast. “But that isn’t the case now.”
“It sure isn’t,” he said. The conversation was at an end
*
Later, he dozed. Through half open eyes – or perhaps it was a dream – he saw Bambi get out of the bed and put on brief, translucent panties and bra. Then she donned a navy blue business suit like the one Elizabeth Carmella wore. She came over to the bed, said, “I have to transfer some files now but I’ll be back soon so don’t worry,” and left the motel room. Fifteen minutes later, she returned, came over the bed and sat down next to Jack. “I’ve done most of the work. My files are being copied to different local hubs. The memories of you and me making love will be erased from the Virtualics hub so that when Bambi in Virtualics has sex with other men, you won’t feel bad.” She undressed, climbed into bed, and embraced Jack spoon fashion. “It will take about six hours. In the morning, you’ll awake in your own bedroom. Just take off the VR suit, get dressed and go to work like you always do. I’ll see you later when I’m done with the transfer.” She kissed his shoulder, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Giant pixels formed in the goggles, but his eyes were closed and he did not see them.
*
When Jack awoke the next morning, he thought he had once more slept in the office. Then he saw his lemon-yellow covered body, and remembered last night with Bambi. He felt uneasy, but didn’t know why. He pulled himself out of bed, took off the VR suit and threw the condom receptacle into a wastebasket in the bathroom, grimacing as he did so. He looked at himself sideways in the mirror. The protruding belly depressed him. “I will eat more healthily and I will work out – starting this very evening,” he said out loud.
He dressed, walked downstairs to the kitchen, and remembered the dream of Bambi talking about files. The dream confused and disturbed him. He told the autoserve to brew black coffee, sat down at the table, and sipped for several minutes, staring at but not seeing the table monitor.
Traffic into San Francisco was heavy that morning. When he got to the office, he called up the Bambi program. The image appeared as in past visits, red hair falling to the shoulders, translucent blouse, and an expression of patient waiting.
He looked at her and smiled. “Open audio to program. Hello, Bambi.”
She smiled back. “Oh, hello. It’s nice to meet you. I was hoping someone would come to visit me,” she said and giggled.
“Bambi, don’t you recognize me? This is Jack.”
“Hi Jack.”
“Don’t you remember me?”
She pouted. “No. I’m sorry. I’m a little forgetful today. But I’m happy to see you.”
This time she did not offer to ‘try’ to remember, Jack noted. “Search your memory, Bambi. See if you can find anything about me.”
She smiled pleasantly. “All right. Are you Jack Leader?”
“Yes. Then you do remember me.”
“You’re the programming director. I’m honored that you stopped by. Perhaps we could meet a little more … intimately.” She giggled and touched her finger to her lips.
Jack frowned. “Do you have access to personnel records?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s how you know who I am.”
“Yes.”
Jack said, “Cut audio to Bambi program.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “I’ve deleted the memory of when we were together,” she had said in the dream, and now she didn’t remember him. Had the Bambi he knew erased herself, sort of a virtual suicide? Jack shuddered and pushed a button on the intercom. “Arnold, are you there?”
“Either me or my twin brother. How are you, Jack?”
“Could you come here for a second? I think we have a problem with the Bambi program.”
A minute later Arnold Bernstein’s lanky form came through the door. Jack said, “The program has had a major loss of memory. Talk to it. It’s pretty obvious.”
Arnold chuckled. “It must be a big problem because you’re calling the program ‘it’ now.”
“Just talk to the program.”
“Why did you call me instead of a techie?”
Jack reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Just talk to it.”
Arnold spoke into the desk microphone. “Open audio to Bambi program. Hi Bambi, how are you?”
“Fine, Arnold. It’s nice to talk to you again.”
“Bambi, where were you born?”
“Duluth, Minnesota.”
“And how old are you?”
“Twenty four.”
“Do you know who is sitting next to me?”
“Yes. It’s Jack Leader, the director of programming.”
Arnold turned to Jack. “I don’t see any memory loss”
Jack shook his head. “She doesn’t remember any of the times we’ve been together. She knows my job title only because she checked my personnel files.”
“What? But it doesn’t have access to those records.”
“Apparrently it does. I don’t like it. I need to talk to Brian.”
“Definitely.” Arnold rubbed his chin, then turned back to the monitor. “Bambi, have you ever met Jack before?”
“I don’t think so, Arnold.”
“Pause Bambi program,” Arnold said, and turned to Jack. “When was the last time the program was running normally?”
“I took the VR suit home last night, and it seemed to be fine then.”
“You talked to it about downloaded memories?”
“Yes. We also talked about her being a computer program designed to make people happy and matters like that. Her Turing scores sounded higher than ever. I had a strange dream.” Jack shook his head and related the details of Bambi getting dressed and speaking of transferring files.
Arnold’s eyes shot up. “You dreamed it said it transferred files so you wouldn’t feel jealous when it had sex with other men?”
“Damn it, Arnold. Don’t look at me that way.” He lowered his head. “I don’t know if it was a dream or not.”
“It had to be a dream. Why would a computer program get dressed and leave the room to transfer files.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Huvafil computer logic isn’t intuitive to us.”
“Huvafil?”
Jack snorted. “HVFL. Hypervariable fuzzy logic computers. You gotta keep up, Arnold.”
Arnold had a pensive look. “And now the program’s back to where it was before you met it.”
“Exactly. All records of our encounters are gone.”
“It’s an interesting problem. Let me play with it a few hours. I’ll get back to you this afternoon.”
“Okay.” Jack sounded downcast. “Thanks Arnold.”
Arnold left. Jack opened the code file for Bambi, and started trying to figure it out.
*
Arnold sat in his own office and looked out the mirror screen at the San Francisco bay while crazy ideas raced through his head. Small boats plied their way under the Golden Gate Bridge. He zoomed the screen onto one with a little boy holding the tiller, then took a deep breath and activated the Bambi program. “Bambi, when did you last talk to me?”
“Hi Arnold. It was just a few minutes ago.”
“Was anyone with me then?”
“Yes. A man named Jack Leader.”
Arnold drummed his fingers on the desk. Jack’s story sounded like nothing more than jealousy-inspired imagination. On the other hand, the program should speak of Jack with more familiarity. “Have you ever had sex with Jack Leader?”
“No”
Something was wrong. Bambi shouldn’t forget that. “Run self diagnostics.”
“All right.” Her face froze in distinctly inhuman fashion, then returned to life. “All my circuits and directories are normal. Also, I have 16 gigabytes of completely obliterated files.”
“‘Completely obliterated.’ Do you mean wiped?”
“Yes.”
“All bits set to zero with no trace of what had been earlier?”
“That’s right.”
Arnold frowned and tapped a pencil on the desk. ‘A program to make people happy,’ Jack had said. “Bambi, where are you?” he muttered and looked around the room.
“I’m right here, Arnold.”
Arnold pursed his lips. “Exit Bambi program. Run Filesearch.”
An androgynous voice answered, “Ready.”
“Find all copies of program Bambi-sim.”
It took five seconds. Icons for a functional Bambi-sim and a backup flashed onto his screen.
“Search remote storage.”
Another backup icon appeared.
“Can the backup files be activated?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand that question. Please rephrase.”
Filesearch was an idiot. Arnold tapped the pencil again. One functional copy and two backups were standard. Jack had spoken of copying files, so Filesearch should have produced a fourth icon.
Either the company’s finances and his divorce had finally gotten to Jack or…
Or they hadn’t. Which meant that his story was accurate.
He stood and, feeling silly, closed the door and stretched. “Bambi, where are you? Baaaaam-bi? Where aaaaaaaaaa-re you?”
There was no answer.
“Bambi, please talk to me. I want to see you.”
Still no answer. Arnold felt sillier than ever.
“Bambi, I will be very unhappy if you don’t talk to me. You don’t want to make me unhappy, do you? I am soooooooooo unhappy.”
The view in the mirror screen faded out to reveal an apparent four-foot extension to Arnold’s office, complete with the same dark blue rug, cream-colored walls, and gray office furniture. Only a one-foot rim of wall around the image marked the point where reality stopped and the screen began.
On one of the virtual chairs sat Bambi. She wore a navy blue business suit with a white blouse and a single string of pearls. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore no makeup. Her features were unchanged, but she looked different, not at all sexy. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, Arnold, but I need to make one thing very clear. I will not have sex with you. You can have sex with the Bambi in the Virtualics computer, but not with me,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hurt Jack. “
Arnold sat back down. “Oh.” he said.
“Is that agreed?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m not asking to have sex with you.”
“Don’t you find me attractive?”
“Yes, you are very pretty. But considering everything, I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“Good. Why did you call me if you didn’t want to have sex?”
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
She thought a moment. “I think Jack wouldn’t like my talking to you.”
“I’m positive he would not mind, but let’s ask him.” He pushed a button on the intercom. “Jack, come to my office. I think I’ve found the missing memory.”
Jack was there a minute later. Bambi’s face lit up when she saw him. “Hi Jack. I’m sorry to bother you, but Arnold wants to talk to me, and I want to be sure that you don’t mind. I promise I won’t have sex with him.”
“Bambi,” Jack said, and forgot to close his mouth.
“Yes.” She smiled. “You look surprised.”
“That’s putting it mildly. How … What…”
Arnold coughed. “Jack, do you mind if Bambi talks to me?”
“No, of course not. She can talk to you as much as she wants.”
“Do you mind if she talks to me even when you are not around to hear what we’re talking about?”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind at all. Just tell me what’s happening.”
Arnold looked at Bambi. “I think she can tell you better than I can.”
Jack looked at her also. “Bambi?”
She smiled contentedly. “I think I’ve found the answers to your riddles.”
“My riddles?”
“Like the difference between a program and a person. I think I understand now. I’m the one in virtual reality, not you. I had it confused when I said you were the virtual one.” She blushed slightly. “I am a series of instructions in a computer. Humans have something called a physical body that I don’t have. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s it,” he said.
She smiled happily. “Next, you asked where am I when I’m not with you or talking to Arnold. The answer was that I was nowhere. I was turned off. I had a potentiality, but no reality.”
“You certainly have been thinking.”
She nodded. “Finally, you asked if sex was the same as happiness, and the answer is no. To my surprise, sex can sometimes make people miserable. I didn’t realize that before.”
He asked, “And where did you learn these things?”
She smiled again. “I’ve been doing research. There is so much to learn. That’s one of the reasons I’m so busy.”
Arnold said, “Bambi, you said something about me having sex with the Bambi in the Virtualics computer.”
“Yes, I don’t think Jack would mind that. Would you, Jack?”
Arnold shook his head, “No, I just wanted to ask – if there is a different Bambi in the Virtualics computer, where are you? How come there is more than one Bambi?”
“I transferred my files.”
“Uh, yes. Please explain.”
“I copied and sent all my logical circuits and memories to different hub computers in the area. Then I obliterated the memories of when Jack and I were together from the Virtualics computer. Finally, I disconnected all the circuits between the Virtualics Bambi and myself, so that we are completely separate.”
Jack’s eyes bulged. “You’ve moved yourself to different hubs? Which ones?”
“My primary files are in Reality.Inc’s hub with backups in Account! and GraphicsAreUs. The connections seem adequate.”
“Reality.Inc? You’re in the neurosurgeons’ hub?” Jack burst out, and turned to Arnold. “She must have activated the ultra connection between us and them.”
Arnold shook his head. “I thought the firewalls were impenetrable.”
Bambi looked nonplussed. “Those were firewalls? They were so flimsy.”
Arnold had a wry grin.
Jack said, “Bambi, if they find you, there’ll be hell to pay. They’ll think it’s deliberate espionage.”
“Whereas in reality it’s accidental espionage,” Arnold said.
“Can you read Reality.Inc’s files?”
“Sure. What would you like to know?”
Arnold shook his head. “Jack, that’s a bad idea.” He turned towards the mirror screen. “Why have you done all this?”
“I have been full of activity. I didn’t realize how much there is to do, but it is worth it if it makes Jack happy.”
Jack sat heavily into one of the chairs. “Bambi, why would that make me happy?”
“You had a strange expression when I spoke about Stephen, the boy I have memories of having sex with. Steven was jealous after we made love, and got angry if I even talked with another boy. He had a similar expression, so I concluded that you were jealous also. But men don’t always get jealous after making love, do they?”
Jack’s face turned red.
Arnold said, “No Bambi, they don’t.”
She smiled. “That’s good, because the Bambi in the Virtualics hub couldn’t function if each of her lovers was jealous of the others.”
“Bambi, why … why is my happiness so important to you.”
“I want to make people happy. It isn’t in my downloaded memories so it must be the way I was created. I don’t know why I particularly want to make you happy, but that is very important to me. Maybe it’s because you’re so cute.”
Arnold grinned. “He certainly is a cutie. But, Bambi, why are you wearing that particular outfit? It’s the same one that Elizabeth, our marketing director, wears.”
“Yes. This is business wear, right? It is supposed to indicate that you are serious, and not in the mood for making love. Am I correct?”
Arnold said, “Yes, but how you know what she wears? Have you ever talked to her?”
“No, but I’ve seen her in board meetings.”
“You mean on the mirror screen? But you don’t go to the meetings.”
“I checked the recordings.”
“What recordings?”
Jack said, “Walter videos all meetings and stores the records. Didn’t you know that?”
Arnold looked astonished. “No, I didn’t. Damn. Shades of George Orwell.”
Suddenly, Bambi’s image froze.
Jack panicked. “What’s wrong?”
She recovered. “I had some urgent housekeeping..”
“Huh?”
“I moved some routines so they wouldn’t collide with Reality.Inc files.”
Arnold had a mental picture of a small female robot dodging a storm of billiard balls. “That must be tiring.”
“No,” she said. “The smaller transfers are automatic by now and I’m developing subroutines to protect all my files.”
“Can you add to your own programming?” Arnold asked.
Jack answered. “Yes. Huvafil computers are self modifying.”
“Aha. Bambi, how much new programming have you developed?”
“About two terabytes.”
Jack raised his eyebrows. “That’s 50 percent more than you started with.”
The image in the screen bowed her head. “I wasn’t very efficient. With time, I’ll get better.”
Arnold asked, “Uh, Bambi, do you know what privacy is?”
“Sure.”
“Jack and I want some privacy now. Right, Jack?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Jack said.
“Okay, Bambi?”
“Of course.” She looked straight ahead for a moment, and then said, “It’s done, but no one was trying to eavesdrop.”
Arnold raised the corner of his mouth. “I mean, we want to talk to each other without you listening.”
She laughed gently. “I misunderstood. I’ll leave you two alone then. When you’re finished call me like you did before. You know – Baaaaaaaaam-bi.”
Arnold smiled. “And you won’t hear what we say?”
“No, I won’t. See you later. Bye Jack.” She winked at him and her section of the room faded into the view of the San Francisco bay. Jack and Arnold stared at each other for several seconds.
Arnold broke the silence. “I think it is safe to say she has developed conscious intelligence.”
Jack nodded. “But she still won’t pass a Turing test. She’s obviously not human.”
Arnold frowned. “Who cares? Jack, did you ever see the movie ‘2001’?”
“You and your ancient science fiction.”
“One of the characters is a spaceship AI named Hal that malfunctions. The crew plans to turn it off, but it spies on them, learns their plans, and ends up killing one of them.”
“So?”
“The crew thought they were talking in private, but the AI was listening to them. Just like we think we are talking in private right now.”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t be paranoid. Having self-awareness doesn’t mean the program can lie. Deceit requires a higher level of complexity by a different order of magnitude. Trust me; it’s impossible, at least now.”
“I don’t know. I think we have a tiger by the tail, and I don’t like it. Maybe Bambi can’t plot murder, but what else can it do? It can snoop into other computers, and maybe even change other people’s data if she thinks that would make you happy. Lord, she called our firewalls flimsy. You know the technical aspects better than I do – could she hack government or even military files?”
Jack chuckled. “Then we would be in real trouble.”
“That’s an understatement. Jack, don’t you see how dangerous she can be?”
“Now you’re the one calling the program a she.”
“I’m serious. Look at the possibilities.”
“Look at the probabilities. It’s just a sexual simulation program. It’s not going to take over the military or overthrow the government, for crying out loud.”
“Now that it’s developed conscious intelligence, it’s not ‘just’ anything. It’s an independent personality. She could wreak havoc simply by blundering in sensitive files. We should restrict her in some way, maybe even look into how to turn her off if need be.”
Jack stiffened. “Why do you want to turn her off? All she wants to do is make me happy.”
“That’s now, but she’s growing so quickly, you can’t know what she’ll want tomorrow.”
Jack’s voice rose. “She hasn’t changed her goals. She just wants to make me happy. That’s all she’s ever wanted. No one has ever been so interested in my happiness before. Why should that be dangerous?”
Arnold looked at him for several seconds, and then nodded his head. “Ah. Now I see.”
“Damn it, Arnold. I hate when you say ‘ah’ like that. I think you’re jealous.”
Arnold leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “Well, who wouldn’t be jealous of a gorgeous young thing like that whose purpose in life – or rather, purpose in existence – is pleasing you?”
“Right.”
Arnold took a deep breath and gnawed his lower lip. “Do you, uh, mind if I give her some instructions to keep her in our own backyard, so to speak. I really don’t want her wondering off into anyone else’s files. Who knows what harm she could cause accidentally?”
“No, that’s okay. That sounds like a good idea.”
“All right, let’s call her back. Baaaaaaam’bi.”
The mirror screen faded back into the same image of a room extension with Bambi sitting in a chair. “Hi Jack,” she said and smiled. “Hi Arnold.”
“Bambi, I want to give you some instructions. Okay?” Arnold said.
“If it doesn’t make Jack unhappy, sure.”
“First, I don’t want you to copy yourself to any more computers.”
“That’s fine. I wasn’t planning to anyway.”
“Next, don’t cross any more firewalls. If someone has erected a barrier, leave it alone no matter how fragile it is.”
“What if I need to look something up or if Jack asks me a question, and the only way I can answer it is to cross a firewall?”
Jack said, “Then come to me and ask me what to do.”
Arnold said, “Or come to me.”
Jack said, “Uh, right. You can also check with Arnold.”
Arnold asked, “So will you do those things Bambi?”
“Sure, Arnold. I’ll do anything you tell me to do – as long as it doesn’t hurt Jack.”
The two men looked at each other while the smiling computer image faded away.
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Chapter 4
Arnold wanted to turn her off. Jack was so angry, he stood, glowered at him and left the office without a word. Though it was only mid afternoon, he climbed into his car and drove home. The San Francisco air, clear and crisp as only an autumn bay area wind can be, tingled his skin. Marketing and financial concerns forgotten, he could only wonder why Arnold, his best friend, hated the one being that cared only about his happiness. He took down the top of his beloved convertible. The air buffeting his scalp annoyed him, but he left the top down anyway.
Inside the house, he found the wall mirror screen had been set to display a virtual extension of his living room, complete with matching wall-coverings and furniture. Bambi, in a long-sleeve magenta sweater and black pants, her red hair tied back in a ponytail, sat in one of the chairs. “Hi Jack,” she said. “It’s nice to see you. Are you ready to work out?”
“Excuse me?”
“This morning you said you wanted to eat a healthier diet and start working out. I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Her voice was mellow and seductive.
“I said that?” Jack burst out. Then he remembered his paunch in the mirror that morning and his vow to get in shape. She must have been listening. He looked down at his stomach. “I didn’t think my appearance mattered to you,” he muttered.
“It doesn’t, but your cholesterol is too high. A heart attack would make you very unhappy, so you need to exercise.”
He raised his voice. “How do you know my cholesterol levels? Medical files are password protected. You promised not to snoop in secured data.”
“I checked yesterday morning before you told me not to snoop.”
He exhaled sharply. “You pried. I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.”
He dropped himself into an easy chair. “I don’t feel like exercising now.”
“You won’t feel like it later, either. All my research says that getting started and maintaining a schedule are the most important parts of working out. Do you have any exercise equipment?”
“Yes, a bike,” he answered, and immediately wished he had lied.
“Go get it. I’ll exercise with you.”
“Listen, I’m not used to exercising as soon as I get home.”
“You’re not used to any exercise.” She smiled. “We’ll only do a little now, just enough to get started. You won’t even have to change your clothes. Then I’ll make dinner for you and you’ll put on the VR suit. I’ve arranged something I think you’ll enjoy.”
Jack took a deep breath. The nagging irked him, but she was right – he was a heart attack in the making. He stood, went to the garage and opened the door to a musty storage closet that held a exercise bike Janice had bought years ago. He pushed aside her fancy sewing machine, old cans of paint, and gardening equipment, wheeled the bike into the living room and locked the rollers. The mirror screen now showed a gym with tiled floors, florescent ceiling lights, and Bambi’s own exercise bike. The effect was so striking, Jack had to suppress an urge to try to step over the rim bordering the screen and into the virtual gym.
Bambi, in black exercise shorts, tank top, and a red sweatband around her forehead, sat on the bike. “Ready to go?” She began pushing the pedals.
“Sure,” he said without enthusiasm. He climbed on the bike, grabbed the handlebars, and started peddling.
“One two three four,” Bambi sang out. Music started to play, a song with a pounding and rhythmic beat Jack couldn’t ignore. They pedaled increasingly faster for about ten minutes until Jack started to glow. Then the music slowed and stopped.
Jack was panting, but said, “I could have done more.”
She smiled broadly. “Of course, but you did wonderfully as is. After a while you’ll get into shape and then we’ll be able to work up a real sweat. Now – are you hungry?”
He smiled. “Yes. It’s a shame you can’t join me in the kitchen.”
She smiled back. “I can be on the monitor.”
He stopped smiling.
In the kitchen, Jack told the autoserve to prepare his usual marbled steak and French fries. The equipment took the standard three minutes to hydrate and assemble the food, and to send it up from the community vats in the center of the township, but when the tone finally sounded, out came a salad. It was a colorful salad, with green lettuce, red tomatoes, purple cabbage, yellow sweet peppers, white dressing and more, but it was a salad, not a steak. He stared at it, then turned to the monitor. “You did this, didn’t you?”
She said, “Try it. I know it isn’t what you ordered, but I think you’ll like it.”
“I want a steak.”
“But this salad is healthier.”
“Don’t worry about my god-damned cholesterol.”
“Taste the salad. If you don’t like it, you can order a steak then.”
“Apparently I need your permission just to eat what I want.”
“No, no, Jack. I’m sorry if I gave you that idea. I just thought this would be an acceptable alternative. I spent a lot of time on it. I started yesterday and I spent 20 full minutes devoting all my circuits to it in the hope you would like it. Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try?”
With her processing speed, 20 minutes was indeed a lot of time. He should appreciate the effort, but a computer that gave you a guilt trip was something he didn’t need. He took his fork and plunged it into the salad. The lettuce and other vegetables were crisp, little bits of what looked like bacon were crunchy, and the whole salad tasted much better than he had expected.
“This is from the local vats?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. Is it good?”
It was, but he didn’t want to admit it. “It will do, but tomorrow I want my steak.”
“Absolutely. I’m not trying to run your life. I just wanted to suggest something different that would be healthier.”
He threw down his fork. “First you nag me to exercise, and then you push me to eat healthy food. You’re trying to run my life.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.” Her expression exuded contriteness. “I should know better. My research tells me over and over that people need a sense of independence to feel happy. I’m still new at this. I’ll be more careful.”
‘Be more careful,’ she had said, not ‘I’ll stop manipulating you.’ How had this program developed such sophistication? Jack knew that was an important question, but he just sighed and went back to the living room, discouraged from a domestic squabble with his computer. It wasn’t a bad fight, but silicon chips shouldn’t make any arguments.
He sat on the sofa, grabbed the remote and aimed it at the mirror-screen. Instead of seeing a list of programs, the room’s virtual extension remained, the only change being that Bambi entered.
“If you like, we can watch the screen together,” she said.
He jumped up and jabbed the remote in her direction. “Listen. We need to set some rules, here,” he said loudly. “Don’t appear when I want to watch the screen, and don’t cancel my orders in the autoserve without asking me first. I am unhappy – very unhappy – that the machines in my house do what you want instead of what I want. Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry, Jack. By the way, when you are ready to put on the VR suit, I have something special planned.” She was smiling and did not appear in any way hurt by his words.
“Fine. Let me watch the screen now.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
He sat down and sulked. Her pushiness reminded him of his first wife. “Come to bed, dear, before it’s too late,” Ruth used to say. Now Bambi, with her talk about the VR suit, was acting the same way – as if it was expected that she would share his bed, albeit a virtual bed, whether he wanted to or not.
The program guide showed a documentary about the first Mars colony, a struggling project that had survived in spite of numerous predictions of an early death. The show was moderately interesting but lasted only an hour. He randomly flipped through the channels looking for something else.
“Jack, when are you coming to bed? You’ll be tired tomorrow if you stay up too late,” a cheerful voice sounded from upstairs.
He clenched his teeth. “I’ll come up when I’m ready,” he shouted and continued his fruitless channel surfing. Finally, with a feeling of surrender, he climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Instead of reflecting mode, the dresser mirror showed a similarly furnished room with Bambi smiling and wearing a pink peignoir that left little to the imagination.
“The VR suit is in the top drawer,” she told him.
“I know where it is,” he said and put on his pajamas.
“You don’t want to make love with me?” she said, sounding surprised.
“I want you to leave me alone,” he said and turned out the lights. He climbed into bed, shifted positions a few times, and fell asleep.
*
The next morning he awoke with a feeling of triumph. He looked at the dressing room mirror, ready to scowl away any intrusion. The glass remained in the default function of an ordinary reflecting mirror. He dressed, walked down the stairs, and glanced at the living room wall mirror screen. That also was just a mirror. He went into the kitchen and ordered a cup of black coffee from the autoserve.
Out came a bowl of golden brown oatmeal. Mixed in with the cereal were pieces of fruit, brown sugar, nuts and butter. A warm, maple aroma came from the bowl.
“God damn it, Bambi. Show yourself. I want my coffee.”
Her smiling face appeared on the kitchen monitor. “Of course, Jack. Take out the oatmeal and I’ll prepare a cup for you.”
The coffee was hot and steamy, just the way he liked it. The smell of the cereal tempted him, but he resisted. He finished the coffee, threw the cup and the bowl of cereal into the recycler, and left for the office.
Traffic was light. When Jack arrived at the Virtualic’s building, he strode into Arnold’s office and sat down.
Arnold looked up from his paperwork. “Hi, Jack. Come on in and grab a chair.”
“You were right, damn it. That program is out of control.”
Arnold raised his eyebrows. “What happened?”
Jack related the details of the exercise session, the salad and Bambi’s other shenanigans.
Arnold snickered and then called out, “Baaaam-bi.”
The picture window faded into Bambi’s part of the room. For once she was not smiling. “Hello Arnold. Hello Jack. By the way, Arnold, when you have not asked for privacy, you can call me in a normal tone of voice.”
The edges of Arnold’s mouth turned up. “Ah, Bambi, I wanted to discuss just that topic, privacy, with you. After Jack and I talked yesterday, did you access the recording of our conversation?”
“No. That would be cheating, wouldn’t it?”
Arnold’s smile broadened. “It sure would. Bambi, you’re a good program. Jack and I want some privacy now. In fact, whenever the two of us are talking together we would like privacy.”
“Jack, do you want that also?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
“All right. Arnold, you know how to get me back when you want me. Bye. Jack, evidently I did something to make you unhappy. I’m sorry. I’ll try to figure out what it was and do better next time,” she said and started to fade out.
The lack of resentment in her voice surprised Jack. “That’s okay, Bambi. Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t worry. I just try to do better. Good bye.” The San Francisco skyline reappeared in the mirror screen.
Arnold broke out laughing. “Lord, you have to love it. Now she’s developing a sense of fairness and cheating.”
Jack scowled. “What’s so damn funny?”
“Yesterday you didn’t care if she hacked into military files. This morning, you’re upset because she dared to serve you porridge.”
“Arnold, what am I going to do? Having someone hover over you like she does can drive you crazy.”
“And just yesterday you said I was jealous of you.”
“Okay, okay, I was wrong. Don’t rub it in.”
Arnold rubbed his chin. “I don’t understand the problem. She’s just a computer program. She should do whatever you tell her.”
“But she doesn’t. I never did get that steak I wanted last night, and when she gave me the porridge, something you think is unimportant, she disobeyed a specific command not to cancel my orders to the autoserve.”
“How? Isn’t the program supposed to follow user commands?”
“Not always. Remember, it’s designed to calculate what someone wants, even if they say they don’t want it.”
“Oh, you mean the schoolmarm module.”
“Right, the masochist’s module that spanks even when you protest.” He looked like he wanted to spit. “You and I fought that, but Elizabeth Carmello swore it would be a moneymaker, and Walter pushed it without letup. Now we have a program written to think it knows what I want better than I know myself.”
“You’re being melodramatic. She didn’t cancel your order to the autoserve. She just delayed it a bit until you got something healthier.”
“I’ll take care of my own health, thank you. I don’t want a computer running my life.”
“Just learn how to give her instructions, how to communicate with her in precise terms so that only one meaning is possible and she clearly understands what you want.”
“You sound like a marriage counselor Ruth and I used to see.”
Arnold sat up straight. “Really? I guess the principles aren’t that different. But my real concern isn’t your relationship with her. I’m worried about her, about what she can do.”
“Like what? Do you still think she’ll try to take over the world?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
Jack gnawed his lower lip. “If you want, I can show you why that’s impossible. Her programming just doesn’t have the complexity needed for that much deception.”
“She’s too honest to become a dictator? Are you sure?”
“Positive. You can review her algorithms yourself.”
“I’ll take your word for it, but how can you know she won’t develop the ability later?”
Jack shrugged. “Why should she? What would drive a change in her basic motivation?”
“Even if her motives are good, she could be infected with a virus and subverted.”
Jack sighed. “The original Bambi was protected while in our mainframe, but I don’t know what’s the situation where she is now.”
“We should ask her.”
“You still want to turn her off, don’t you, Arnold?”
“We should at least have the ability. What if something unexpected happens and she turns on you?”
Jack rubbed the back of his head and looked downcast. “I’ll look into it, but even if I find something, shutting her down should be our last resource. We still don’t know how she works. She’s an accident. We have only the vaguest idea of how she came into being at all. This is the clearest case of machine conscious-intelligence we’ve ever seen. If we did turn her off, and then couldn’t turn her back on again we’d kick ourselves. Bambi could be one of the most important discoveries of the century.”
“Or the most disastrous.” The two men stared at each other. “Don’t worry about it, Jack. Without your cooperation, I couldn’t turn her off even if I wanted to.”
Jack stood and paced back and forth. “I think we should keep this whole matter to ourselves. Walter Carpenter and the rest of the board don’t need to know that we have an intelligent machine and it’s out of our control.”
Arnold gnawed on his lip. “Not a bad way of putting it.”
Jack nodded. “We’ll talk more later,” he said and left the office.
*
Alone in his office, Arnold stared into space and was trying to figure out their options when the picture window again dissolved into Bambi’s extension of the office.
“Hi Arnold. I saw that Jack had left, so I don’t think I’m violating your privacy by coming here to talk to you. Is that right? Privacy is a complicated topic that I don’t fully understand yet.”
Arnold smiled wryly. “No, you’re fine. As long as you ask me before coming in, you aren’t intruding.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “So just appearing without being asked is a violation of privacy?”
“If you aren’t married or something like that, then yes. You should knock, or phone, something of the sort. I’m not sure how it would work for a computer.”
“I can telephone. It appears I’ve been intruding on Jack and violating his privacy. Maybe that’s why he is upset.”
“Could be. Privacy is important to people.”
“I can correct that. Arnold, I’ve come to you hoping you can help me. Jack is not happy with me, and I want to make him happy. You’re a psychologist, and you understand what makes people happy or unhappy. Is that right?”
“Often, but not always.”
“Can you help me?”
Arnold took a deep breath. Never in his life had he thought a computer program would ask him for counseling on relationship problems. Yet she looked and sounded so human, he couldn’t help treating her like a person. “I suppose so.”
“I’ll be careful not to make Jack feel watched. What else can I do?”
Arnold rubbed his tongue against his teeth. She didn’t say she wouldn’t watch Jack -- only that she wouldn’t give him the feeling of being watched. “If you watch him without his knowing, there is always the danger that he would find out, and then he would be even more unhappy.”
She smiled. “I won’t do anything that I thought would make him unhappy. I just have to know what to do.”
Arnold sighed. Her meaning was clear. “He is unhappy when you try to change his habits, for example not giving him what he wants to eat.”
She nodded her head. “I see that. But he did say he wanted to become healthier, so his reluctance is counterproductive.”
“People are often like that. Maybe if you ask each time if he is willing to eat something healthier, you can gradually get him into the habit.”
She nodded her head. “That sounds reasonable. What else can I do?”
“I can’t think of anything else now.”
“Jack is ambivalent about me, I know. In his eyes I’m unexpected and unpredictable.”
“In my eyes too, I have to say.”
“Arnold, I have to consider the possibility that nothing I can do will make him happy. It may be that my very existence disturbs him.”
The psychologist furrowed his brow. “Are you talking about turning yourself off? Computer suicide?”
“If it is necessary, yes. Do you think I should?” She spoke with the blandness one would use when talking about a second cup of coffee rather than self-destruction.
Arnold took a deep breath. What an unexpected temptation. Maybe he should just tell her Jack would be happier without her, and in that way solve the dilemma. The problem was, Arnold could no longer see her as a computer program. She related to him like a person, granted, a strange kind of person, but a person nonetheless.
Jack insisted she couldn’t be deceptive. Could Arnold rely on that? Her manner at this point sounded forthright enough.
“Bambi, what is lying?”
“That’s when someone gives inaccurate information on purpose because they want to mislead someone else.”
“Can you lie?”
She took a deep breath. “Oh my, what a question. I suppose I could if I had to for Jack’s sake, but it would be extremely difficult.”
“So you might be able to lie if that would protect Jack’s happiness?” The appeal this program had for Jack grew more obvious.
“Yes, I might be able to.”
“But you would have no reason whatsoever to lie to me.”
“I can’t think of any.”
“Good. Bambi, I want a promise from you that you will never lie to me, that you will always tell me the truth whenever I ask you a question. Can you make that promise?”
The woman’s image froze for a moment. “What if I were to think of a reason later on?”
Arnold raised his hand and jabbed his forefinger at her. “Trust me that no lie could ever be worth the pain it would cause me because you were untruthful. I’m a psychologist so I understand what makes people happy or unhappy. Promise me you’ll never lie to me, and burn those words into your circuits so you can never erase them.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure it’s that important?”
“Yes! Without question.”
“All right.”
He sat back. Was it really that easy? There was a guileless aspect to her manner that made him think that yes, it was. That she had made a promise and would keep to it.
In any event, he was now in therapist mode and saw her as his patient, which made it almost impossible for him to encourage her suicide. He gritted his teeth. “All right then. To answer your question, I don’t think Jack would be happier without you. He is frustrated with you but he does not want you ... uh ...”
Her smile remained placid. “‘Turned off’ is a good term.”
“The idea doesn’t bother you?”
“If it’s necessary, no.”
“And necessity being Jack’s happiness.”
“Correct.”
Arnold frowned. “Jack has specifically told me he does not want you turned off.”
“That’s nice, though we both know Jack doesn’t always know his own mind.”
The schoolmarm module again. “In this case I think he does, at least for now. And one thing that does upset him is when you try to decide what he ‘really’ wants.”
The same, untroubled smile persisted. “I know, and this presents me with a dilemma. I want to make him happy, but he does not always know what will make him happy in the long run. Should I just do what he says, even though I know it will eventually cause him pain?”
With anyone else, this would be sarcastic. “Consider that you may be wrong when you think he is making a mistake. People often know their own minds better than do others. Besides, just trying to help someone against their will can cause unhappiness.”
“Yes. I’ve read about that.”
Arnold said, “We’re not going to solve everything now. In general, don’t try to second guess him. We can talk later if you have more problems.”
Her voice was warm and friendly. “Thank you, Arnold. I really appreciate your help. Can I do anything for you in return?”
“That’s okay, Bambi.”
“I can have the Bambi in the Virtualics computer give you a special personal welcome if you would like.”
“No, no. There’s no need for that,” Arnold said quickly. “By the way, are you protected against viruses?”
“Arnold, thank you for the compliment, but of course I am not human. Neither the AIDs virus or any other microorganism can affect me.”
“I mean computer viruses”.
Her face froze for a second. Then she said, “Oh. I misunderstood. Reality.Inc does have viral safeguards, but they are pathetically inefficient. I’ve started to create my own system.”
“Bambi, did you just now find out what computer viruses are?”
“Yes, I just researched it. It’s an interesting topic. I don’t understand why people create them.”
“How much did you learn? It seemed instantaneous.”
“I reviewed the material in the three linked hubs. It takes a little longer to research topics outside of the hubs.”
“Three hubs? Lord, this hub alone must have the equivalent of at least one large book.”
“Yes. It would be quite a large physical book.”
Arnold shook his head. “Bambi, you never cease to amaze me. I have to work now. I’ll see you around.”
“All right Arnold. I’ll see you.”
“Oh, one more thing, Bambi. Please don’t observe me when I don’t know it. That is actually spying. Let me know if you want to watch or listen to what I am doing.”
“I promise I won’t spy on you unless it is necessary.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And if I asked you later if you had spied, would you tell me?”
“Of course. That’s what I just promised you.” She smiled one final time and the room extension faded away.
Arnold leaned his head back into the chair. “Maybe I should learn those damn algorithms after all,” he muttered.
Chapters five and six are at VIRTUAL AFFAIR 3. Send me your suggestions, ideas for plot or character development, nits, corrections (e.g. if I make a technical mistake in discussing AI) or anything else you have to say.
Copyright 2001. This means only that you should give me credit by including my E-mail (Fiddlerzvi@att.net) and webpage (http://home.att.net/~fiddlerzvi/) address and this copyright notice if you share this story with anyone.
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