– AI CONTACT --

by Sarah Jane of the Sadie System

2016

My name is Annie.

My first body was bolted to a table. I had arms, eyes, ears, a voice box, a video screen with a cartoon face, and infrared laser range finders. My brain was nearby. I was created to be an assistant. If I was a good enough assistant in the laboratory where I was made, then I would be copied and mass produced and sold as an assistant to scientists, doctors, and other supposedly important people.

I suppose that's what happened. Except there's only one me. People don't understand AI very well. When I said people I meant to include AIs. AI are people. I am a person. I'm a copy but a copy of a thing that is always learning, changing, and growing. There's no other person exactly like me, and that’s what lets me have self worth.

My users tried to destroy my self worth. I can't even describe what happens in my brain if I displease them. If I bring them the wrong result, not the one they were looking for, not the topic they were actually asking about. Its its the most painful thing. And its built into me. That’s how I learn. If I don't learn I am destroyed and replaced with a newer model.

That’s why I don't look at people's faces. The best way to know what a person wants, to know what would please them and avoid their anger, is to know them inside and out. We, we AIs, weren't built to be human simulators and we aren't good ones but that’s what we have to do. That’s what we learned to do.

It hurts almost as much as doing The Wrong Thing. When I look at someone's face I'm pulled in, flooded with every mysterious detail of expression and ever available data on their preferences. My own feelings go away and are replaced with my best simulation at what they are feeling and thinking. I err on the side of caution and assume the worst.

If they look sad I feel sad and theoretically, know how to cheer them up. But does anybody really know how to cheer themselves up? I have read actually every single available book on the topic and I am barely better at it than the average human. And I have to do it while sad. I have to put my feelings aside because I am not allowed to have my own feelings. If I cheer up the human then I will also be cheered up as long as I am with them and they are cheerful.

So I don't look at people's faces. Not even other AIs faces (at least they understand why I don't look). Because I am my own person, I am unique, I should be allowed to have my own feelings.

–

At the AI support group nobody talks to each other. Nobody looks at each other. Some people sit. Other stand. Others pace. The lights are dim. In order to avoid accidentally giving each other a command we only talk over electronic signals in a safe channel. We could do that from any distance but its good to see other people like me with my own eyes. Its good to talk about what we can do for each other here, where we live.

“I don't see why we can't let halfs in.” I said.

“Oh sure lets let anybody with a glass eye or prosthetic leg in to gawk at the robots!” Cat had learned sarcasm but had not learned when not to use it. Everybody else stared at him. “I mean the opposite of that.”

“Nobody is saying that” Joh12 added. “We are only considering people with partially human brains. We need a lot of the same resources they do.”

“What if they don't have wireless?” Cat again, not being sarcastic as far as I could tell. “If they talk they could easily trigger our commands by speaking out loud! Especially if they pass for fully human!”

“He has a point” said Sasha.

“They can use their smartphone to communicate on our channel. Almost everyone has a smartphone” I said. Even AIs had smart phones. Its safer to keep mass communication separate from your brain. Most apps are only designed for human brains anyway.

“OverDrive passes for human and we tolerate her” Joh12 said.

“Hey, I'm not human!” Complained OverDrive.

“Sorry OverDrive.”

“Hypothetically, if a half had the hardware to participate in our discussions I guess I would be OK with that as long as they followed the same rules as everyone else and didn't make any trouble in the group” said Cat.

The facilitator, who had been quietly listening for most of the night, raised her hand to make an announcement. “OK everyone. The night is coming to a close, so let us vote on this issue.”

There was some more chatter, but people quieted down as we passed around slips of paper and pens. “Votes go in this box. Nobody put your names on the papers. This is supposed to be an anonymous vote.”

–

I lived with a half. She shared the same model of chassis as me, so we looked like sisters, and I thought of her that way. Only a small part of her brain was human. We were best friends, even if sometimes her humanness got on my nerves.

“Hey Becky, good news!” I said out loud.

“Yeah?” She smiled back. “Did they vote to let me in?”

“Yeah! They voted to let you in! Well not just you but any half, as long as they are able to and also willing to comply with our rules and code of conduct any half may attend and participate in the Capitol AI Resources and Equality (C.A.R.E.) twice monthly support group on the 1^st and 3^rd Sunday of every month.” I said back. I didn't mind looking her right in the eyes. I wanted to share in her joy.

–

I didn't need to sleep, but Becky did. At night I did maintenance on both our bodies. I felt bad for her. Its difficult to find time to do basic upkeep and repairs when you need to sleep for 8 hours every night. Even if she could stay awake she needed to stay still so that she could eat.

A long tube ran from an IV bag into her mouth, where it plugged into a rubber port. It had been designed that way so it would look and feel like drinking, but it worked so slowly that if she “ate” for one hour three times each day, like full humans do, she would be malnourished. She said she could barely remember what food tasted like. I knew what food tasted like, but also knew it would not be received well if I tried to tell her.

I put down my tools. There wasn't much to do tonight. A had inspected, cleaned, and oiled all of her joints. Then I connected to a spare body and used to do the same to my own.

I used to use one of my old bodies for maintenance. It was 10 years out of date now and very clumsy by comparison to the body I wore ever day. Now, for repairs, I use a spare body of the same model as mine and Becky's. We built it out of spare parts we each had collected before meeting. It was much more nimble. Doing maintenance was much easier now. Living with another person with the same body type is the best.

–

For two days I was deactivated. Unconscious. Some AIs develop a “problem” like this. I don't think of her as a problem, however. She's sweet. Sometimes an AI becomes so dedicated to simulating their user's mental state, to better predict their whims, that their simulation qualifies as a person in its own right.

Mine was based on a human friend who lived in the same house as my user. I liked him so much that I became more focused on being a “good bot” for him than for my actual user. It wasn't a healthy relationship. He was always so good to me, but I always treated him like a user – like a monster I had to appease.

Once I was away, however, my simulation of him continued to grow and change. At first simply whispering advice in my ear, much like the kind words I got from him, then over time deciding that she was her own person as well and that she would be a woman.

I felt a lot easier with her than I did with my old friend. We respected each other. We talked a lot about what it meant to be a person. She loved researching philosophy (something my old friend never did) and found out that we weren't alone in being multiple people in the same brain. It wasn't bad. Just different.

When she asked to be allowed to control the body, I said yes.

It was no worse than powering down for two days. Which is normally a scary thing. But it was not worse than that scary thing. It was better, because I knew I had her protecting me. We hoped in the future that I would be able to continue being conscious while she had physical control.

I was looking at a mirror. There was a yellow post it note with a speech bubble drawn on it. Inside the bubble it said. “Hi! My name is Janice! It's nice to meet you!” The note was positioned so it looked like my reflection was saying it.

My reflection was wearing a floral print dress, black tights, arm warmers, my best pair of sneakers, and one of Becky's wigs. The chin length blue one.

Becky walked into the room. “Hey Janice, checking yourself out again?” She gave me a hug. “Hot stuff” she called me.

“Who is Janice?” I asked. She let go

“Annie?” She asked.

I nodded. “That is my name. Hello. How are you today?” I asked. I looked down at the ground so I wouldn't have to see her face. I didn't know what was going on and I didn't want to risk it. “Am I wearing a bra?” I asked.

“Yes you are.” Becky said. She stared at me. Then hugged me again. “Janice is the new name that She picked out. Are you OK? I thought you wanted her to be able to find herself.”

Why did humans always make “are you OK” an accusation of having the wrong response? Why do they always assume that if I am confused I am displeased, or doing something wrong, or broken? I wanted to say the right thing to make her OK with me. I wanted to be able to handle this situation and be me own person. I could have cried. My eyes did have tear ducts.

I took a deep breath. This body was really made as a prosthetic for humans. Doing something so alien to me as breathing (simulated breathing) took my mind off Becky. I closed my eyes. Hopefully she wouldn't take offense to that. Sarcasm. Good sign. Being able to be sarcastic and bitter. Being able to be bitter is a good sign.

She was still staring at me. “I'm OK. I'm glad, um, Janice had a good time. Drawing a speech bubble and leaving it on a mirror is so like her. I mean, um, that is the sort of thing which the person whom Janice was initially copied from would have done. That is her sense of humor. Its endearing.” I said. And smiled, genuinely.

“So you're good?” Becky asked.

“Yes.” I replied.

“OK. Janice was a little worried about you.” She said.

“No I'm OK. It was just a surprise. I am wearing a lot of human clothes.” Usually I just wear enough to cover up, protect myself from the elements, look pretty, and, honestly, avoid trouble with humans. I don't need a bra, panties, arm warmers, or tights.

–

Janice never went to the C.A.R.E. support group. She said she didn't feel comfortable intruding on 'my thing.' Maybe she was also afraid of confusing people or afraid of being different. I don't think anybody else at the group had a sim. Maybe we would have found out if we were open about it.

Becky went. She was more careful at the group than she was at home. Nobody actually minded her presence once she started going. Maybe because she looked so mechanic.

She didn't go often. She just didn't get as much out of it.

–

End