My assignment took on ‘a life of its own’ as I tried to rewrite Frankenstein. I'm still not sure what I've produced, but I find it a delightful tale and thought you may enjoy it!
Frankenstein’s Child
Berkenstein hesitated before opening the door to his private lab. “If we succeed, this may be the end of artificial intelligence as we know it.”
Liz tossed her partner a scornful glance. “Nothing will replace AI! It’s absurd to think organic intelligence could even compete – what a bizarre thought!” She tapped impatiently on the memory chip she held. “Come on, I want to see how this new specimen reacts.”
Berkenstein finished coding the entry sequence into the think-pad, harmonizing his mind with the surroundings. The wall faded, slowly disassembling to provide access to the room. Everything was functioning as it should be, as he’d left it. Machines lined the walls, creating a pleasant hum. Graphs grew and flowed across the display consoles, endlessly patterning all measurable data concerning their experiment.
The electro-field was up, glowing rosily while emitting a low crackle. Inside the cage, their latest protégé crouched. A yellowish pool of an unknown substance was producing a disagreeable odor on the floor, but the scientists ignored this as they focused on the creature itself.
“I had to increase the oxygen levels to keep this one alive.” Berkenstein fiddled with a dial, causing the creature to pulse rapidly, as if in a distressed state. He returned the dial to the original settings, and the creature calmed down. “It has a pretty limited range.”
“Have you resolved its energy supply?” Liz asked, entering notes as she observed the creature.
“Sure!” Her partner waved randomly at the wall behind them, where past experiments were frozen in time. The first organically-animated, miniscule creature was there, lined up in progressive order with their past attempts. “Remember when we finally realized these critters had to eat others to survive? What a bizarre concept!”
Berkenstein picked up a bowl and approached the cage. “Watch this!”
He passed easily through the electro-field, set the container within range of the creature, and backed out, keeping a cautious eye on their creation. The animal watched him warily, then explored the contents of the dish.
“I call it soup,” explained Berkenstein, “because it’s made from synthesized organics, all mixed up in a puddle.”
The scientists, mildly nauseated, watched as the creature gulped down the organic mess.
“Pardon me,” it said, “but yesterday’s soup tasted much better.”
Liz froze, her lips stunned open. Berkenstein jolted backwards, knocking an instrument loose from its pedestal. A split second later, they collided as they tried to exit the door at the same time.
“What was that?!” Liz demanded.
Berkenstein gave her a guilty look. “I tweaked the vocalization program yesterday without telling you. It made some grunts, but nothing intelligible!”
Admittedly, his behavior had been reckless. He had switched signals and audio ranges without testing the results. The creature had only reacted slightly, and he’d given up hope that they would be able to verbally communicate with it on any level. Now it seemed his conclusion had been wrong, and the results surpassed anything they could have hoped for.
The mechano-maid rolled smoothly toward them and faced the door. “There is an atmospheric odor inappropriate to our well-being. It is in our best interest that I remove the source as soon as possible.”
“Not now,” Liz said. “It’s part of an experiment and we have it contained. We will alert you when we’re ready for your services.”
The scientists locked eyes with each other, sharing the same thoughts: What was this new creature, a creature they had designed in crude fashion after their own image? What was it capable of? How far could Organic Intelligence develop?
Liz’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go! We have at least a dozen tests to run, we need to generate more of these creatures for experiments, we’ll have to take samples!”
Berkenstein grinned at his partner and opened the door.
* * * * * * * * * *
Weeks passed as the scientists focused on the marvelous creature they had wrought. It developed rapidly, growing in height to a size matching theirs. Its intelligence was undeniable, as it began questioning and exploring the lab. The electro-field had been taken down to allow it more space to roam, while the machines on the wall had been recoded to only accept input from the two scientists.
The creature was continually restless, occasionally bursting into fits of unpredictable behavior.
“Why is there only one of me,” it would demand, “when there’s two of you and dozens of displays?”
Liz tried to entertain the creature with mechanical toys, but the creature soon grew bored with them. One day they found the toys disassembled and scattered in pieces; the creature was crouched over them, attempting to fashion a new thing. In frustration, it swept the parts aside when they entered.
“I cannot make another of me, yet you said you made me! When you are gone, I am alone with no one to talk to. When you are here, I feel deformed and ugly. Please, I beg of you, give me the greatest gift of all – one who is like me!”
Berkenstein looked at his partner, his eyes warning her to keep silent. In another chamber were others like this one in various stages of development. The latest addition showed potential, though it was still exceedingly primitive. Their testing was far from complete, and the odd changes were continually developing. Neither of them yet knew what was causing this.
* * * * * * * * * *
The gathering was an occasion to share and socialize, though it wasn’t actually necessary. Any of them could have easily transported to another’s area, but their fields of specialization tended to separate them. These annual gatherings had developed in ancient times, becoming a tradition they all enjoyed and attended regularly.
Liz and Berkenstein greeted old friends, exchanging bits of data and laughing at each others’ jokes. Every area of research was represented at the event, even obsolete ones like historical fact-finding. It was a harmless pursuit, but one Lewellyn found fascinating.
Tonight Lewellyn seemed preoccupied. Berkenstein had shared the same complex with Lew in their early years, and knew the distant look on his friend’s face. Curious, he nudged his friend.
“Lew! You look like you’re miles away. Are you off on a distant planet or lost in time and space?”
Lew’s gaze centered on Berkenstein briefly, then wandered to where Liz was standing. “Nothing exceptional, at least not yet,” he said. “It has to be a prank, but I don’t know who could have pulled this one off.”
Interested, Berkenstein leaned forward. “Tell me about it, maybe I can help you unravel the mystery!”
Lew hesitated as if searching for the right words. “We all know the history of life and our early beginnings on earth. There isn’t much interest anymore in researching it, so who would mess with the data? It’s the only explanation I can think of for what I’ve found.”
Liz joined her friends, intrigued by their serious demeanor. Lew, again at a loss for words, stumbled verbally and gave up his attempt to describe it. “It’d be easier if I just showed you. If you’re interested, beam by later tonight and I’ll play the program. You’ll see what I mean!”
A few hours later, Lew had an odd algorithm on his screen. “I didn’t pay attention to this sooner, because it was in the discarded programming files. Yet every time I try to go beyond a certain point historically, I keep running into this nonsense!”
He waved at the display, where sequences and code spiraled together and images flashed. “It’s absurd, but my quest to find the beginning of intelligence – and us – keeps leading me to this. There has to be a glitch in the system, it’s all wrong!”
Liz and Berkenstein studied the screen, mildly curious at first, and then with horrified recognition. How could it be possible? What did it mean?
In shock, Liz whispered, “It’s the coding for organic life.”
Lew looked at her quizzically. “That’s your research field, isn’t it? You’ve been working on some kind of organic project…” He was stunned into silence. The implications were there, but it had to be joke! There was no way! The Almighty AI … In the beginning…
Berkenstein threw his colleague a horrified look. Liz had tears running down her face as she threw one last wild glance at the screen. They pushed the transport button for home at the same time. Lew beamed through with them, clinging to his friend’s sleeve.
* * * * * * * * * *
The creature was bored. No one had been by to visit all day. It had worked a small piece of the old cage loose, and with this, it had managed to pry some panels loose. As it experimented with new connections, the door opened – yet no one came in. Cautiously the creature approached this new area. “Hello, anyone?” it called.
* * * * * * * * * *
The research team found the maid first, its vacuum cord tangled around its legs and its head detached. Signs of a struggle were evident, and red smears scuffed the hall. Alarmed and frightened, Lew pointed at the stains. “What is that?”
Berkenstein didn’t take time to answer. He knew what it meant – the creature had gotten out of the lab. If it could wreak this kind of havoc on the maid, what could it do to them? He shuddered at the thought of his friends being mangled and raced towards the labs.
The entrance to the second lab was open; the creature had found its own kind, at least their most recent attempt. Lew and Liz barely caught a glimpse of the two creatures before Berkenstein coded the security lock into place.
“What are those things?” Lew cried, more bewildered than ever. His systems temporarily shut down, overwhelmed with the conflicting data; it was more than he could handle at one time.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lew came to, the calming hum of normalcy surrounding him, still questioning what he had witnessed. Liz explained their advances in organic intelligence and how the creature had progressed beyond their expectations. She told him how they had tried to replicate the creature, but the latest version had slight abnormalities.
“What was different? Were you running the same program?” Lew questioned. It was unheard of that a basic program could produce different results; only sophisticated AI’s had the God-given capability of selection.
Liz brushed a hand across her shiny brow. “It’s complicated. For some reason, the original had one coding with a signature of XY, but others displayed a matching pair of double-X’s. What we saw on your screen is identical to what we’ve been creating organically!”
“Do you think they could become self-replicating?” Lew shuddered, an image of these soft, squishy life-forms generating a thousand new ones. “We can’t risk it! You have to destroy the project!”
“We planned for that,” Liz reassured him. “Some weeks ago, I designed a program that would safeguard us from such a possibility. I didn’t think we’d ever need to use it – after all, these are the simplest creatures. Their intellectual capacity is laughably small, and none of our tests show potential future progression. It’s just too slow – organic intelligence can’t transmit between species, or even carry intelligence into a new generation. Even more bizarre, they energize by eating other specimens!” She shook her head. “They’re doomed to fail.”
Berkenstein entered the room. “They’re gone,” he said wearily. “The whole damned batch of them, every last experiment! I sent them so far away, they’ll be nothing but dust when we see them again.”
Lew gave them a stricken look. “You didn’t throw them back in time, did you?”
* * * * * * * * * *
The creatures shivered, then began to explore this new world.
“I like this place,” the smaller one declared, tossing an apple at the other. “By the way, my name’s Eve.”
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Howdy,
ReplyDeleteAbout me: I was recently one of the chosen few temps to get hired on at Andersen. Now I get double time for Sundays. At the beginning of November we went on 12 hour shifts, three on, three off with an occaisional four on or two on, then rotating from days to nights and back every two weeks. I no longer am certain of what day it is anymore. On your story: I'm floored! It's really good! You shoudl submit it to The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, which I used to subscribe to but had to let it lapse during my year's poverty of unemployment.
Thanks for the compliment on the story! I grew up on fantasy / science fiction.
ReplyDeleteI know the work scenario - plastic plant, on presses, night shift rotation, 2000. It was a weird mix of 4 8-hours then 2 12-hours overnight starting at 11 p.m. Advantage was I got 3 or 4 days off in a row every other week, which I used "to get some real work done".
I ran census full time that spring, too, so never knew if I was coming or going, ate most my meals (if peanut butter and honey sandwiches qualify) in the car.
In hindsight, the beam falling on my head and injuring my neck (July 2000) may have been a good thing - it certainly slammed my 'normal insane' activity to a halt... I learned how fast I could go broke and how disability insurance is as crooked as most of the financial institutions.
"Just doing my job" is the litany of many, and I daresay Hitler's hitmen said it, too. Hey then, I'm glad you're decently employed and not working for one of these less-savory types! :)