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The AI Experiment: Chapters 1-5
Chapter 1
[Colloquiums are going to be a problem. Move it to the UK?]
Para 1
The unsuspecting guinea pigs were unaware of the encroaching blanket of thick fog; artificial, man-made thick fog descending from the heavens above. This fog hadn’t formed or rolled across the landscape in a conventional manner but was slowly falling from the windless sky; smoothly, silkily, as if offering protection of sorts, masking its true intentions, having been sprayed by an uncaring individual piloting a Cessna 340 aircraft in the dead of night. Everything had been set, and the great AI Experiment was about to begin. Once the fog reached ground level, it would be all systems go.
Para 2
Martin had lived on the streets for 5 years straight; 5 years of liberation in a way, being free from the hostility of a broken home, a broken upbringing and a broken care system, though sadly, leaving Martin with a broken mind. Claiming benefits, taking drugs and mooching around on the streets of California was more to his liking. Martin might not have been an upwardly mobile individual, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he was well qualified as an inmate. As the fog was encouraged to make its way into all the rooms of the compound, Martin and many others just like him, being blissfully unaware, slept on.
Para 3
California was awash with the homeless, there was no end to them. The more the authorities offered help, help in the form of benefits or free drugs, the more appeared. Not only this, but being a ‘sanctuary state’, any illegal migrant who managed to make the trek there was given the right to remain in the US. California was a magnet for the dispossessed, the mentally unstable, those who lacked the ability to fend for themselves or those who had fallen on hard times; yet others were simply seeking a better life. But the harsh and sobering reality for most of them was life on the sidewalk, whereby a precarious existence was eked out by all such unfortunates. The more the socialist-inspired government raised its care in the community standards, the more the problem grew. It was a catch 22 situation, and such a situation opened the door to a more forceful response, masked in reasonableness, as usual.
Para 4
The out-of-town camps beckoned, camps that had remained empty for some time were now considered a solution to the crisis. The dormant evil that had built the enclosures in the first place, began to stir. The long-awaited opportunity was finally here, and there was not a moment to lose. Slowly at first, but with growing insistence, all those waiting in the wings became energised and the trap was set. The camps were marketed as being an unparalleled opportunity, whereby a new life was yours for the asking. ‘All that ails you will be taken care of’, was the often repeated mantra. Really though, the whole place was nothing but a disguised witch's cottage, whereby the walls were made of confectionery to attract the hungry, but once inside, the door slammed firmly shut behind you.
Chapter 2
Para 1
Hilda was in a hurry, but even so she always found time for her friend, her homeless friend. Over the last few months, she had sparked up an offhand relationship with Felicity, someone who still harboured a clear mind and a willingness to improve her lot. Hilda was always tactful, never patronising, though this was quite difficult at times. It was tempting to lay the law down in some way or other, to preach from on high, especially being a number of years older and therefore considering herself more worldly-wise. Their little tête-à-tête, the few passed remarks, blossomed into productive discourse at times. But suddenly there was no Felicity. She had disappeared. Her usual haunt was now vacant. Hilda figured this wasn’t really any of her business, but it upset her all the same. She truly expected Felicity to return at some time or other, but she never had, and the weeks had rolled by. Each day Hilda would look out for her friend, but each day was yet another smack in the face. Hilda was a busy woman who didn’t have the time to pursue the matter, but her brother, on the other hand, who she considered a bit of a layabout, had more time on his hands than he knew what to do with, or so she thought.
Para 2
[Language is strong, maybe too strong. Calm it down?]
“What do you want me to do, then? You really want me to start looking for a vagrant? Are you sure about this?”, spoke a somewhat disgruntled Carl, Hilda’s brother, who was the polar opposite to his sister in all sorts of ways, being more a suspicious loner rather than his more socially responsible, friendly and garrulous sister.
“What else are you doing?”, Hilda remarked, as her eyes scoured the untidy living room, a room given over to the pursuit of computer games in the main.
“Piss off. Why should I help you with that attitude?”
For some reason, Hilda always rubbed him up the wrong way, and this exchange was yet another of the same.
“Think of someone else for a change, will you. I would like to know what the hell happened to Felicity. I haven’t the time to look into it, but you have. I just want to know where she has gone and if she is OK. It shouldn’t be all that hard to find out. I can’t go asking questions on the street, but you can”, spoke Hilda in earnest.
“What the hell do you mean, ‘I can’? You mean, because I fit the street profile or something?”
Hilda’s looked Carl up and down. The week-old beard, the grotty, food marked t-shirt, the crumpled jeans and unmatched socks. Her eyebrows rose and she pulled a face effectively stating her case.
“Bollocks”, contested Carl, though he had to admit defeat in this instance.
“What will I get out of it, should I help you out? What will be my reward, my payment? The incentive? Come on, spill the beans”. Carl was warming to the idea now and could see a way to exploit the situation.
“You are a right arsehole at times”, replied Hilda, though she knew something along these lines would be required to prise Carl away from his beloved console.
“50 bucks is my offer, on finding out something”, knowing full well this wouldn’t be anything like enough.
“I am not getting off my arse for that kind of money. 25 dollars a day plus expenses. I might have to take a bus trip or something, and I will have to feed myself and so on.”
“I am not made of money, you know”, but on consideration. these demands were not too outrageous. They were quite reasonable by all accounts, and Hilda could easily afford such expense.
Chapter 3
Para 1
[Boonies? Nice sounding word, but is it suitable?]
Felicity was really taken aback by all the mod cons, all that her new home offered. It might be out in the boonies, miles from anywhere, but surely there was a new life here for the asking?
Para 2
She preferred her own space, which these homes offered, especially with her immediate neighbours being the kind of person she avoided whenever possible. On the one side of her was an old guy, a toothless individual with an agitated disposition. On the other was a much younger man by the name of Martin, who, although friendly, was, again, not really the type of young man Felicity wanted to associate with, as ‘loser’ might well have been printed on his forehead. He was going nowhere and was unlikely to ever go anywhere as far as she was concerned.
Para 3
Felicity’s story of why she ended up on the streets was not typical, though probably not unheard of. She had done a runner, a runner from her abusive, incredibly fat mother and her far too attentive father. A runner from her dysfunctional family, in effect.
Para 4
Felicity couldn’t take the constant menace any longer, the kind of menace that settled on your shoulders, the weight of which stifled your every movement and thought. Freedom beckoned in the form of life on the streets of California. Whatever was out there was surely better than the hellhole she was currently being forced to live in? She instinctively knew her father was about to take their father-daughter relationship to a whole new level; a level she had no intention of being party to.
Chapter 4
Para 1
The fog was but one aspect of the experiment. What the scientists were really interested in, was the relationship between those who breathed in the particle-laden cloud and the real brain behind the operation, the mega-powerful AI. They were to allow the AI free rein, to let it off the leash, so to speak.
Para 2
[This injection lark is not sitting right with me. There is too much going on. The injection is not needed and might cause a problem for me later on. Possibly a rewrite of this paragraph is called for.]
To render the recipients all the more vulnerable, injections of a certain substance had been dished out to all, under the guise of it being yet another shot that was good for you. The contents of the vial made its way into the bloodstream, through the brain barrier, attaching itself to nerve cells where it awaited further instructions. Once in place, it was going nowhere, not ever. It was impossible to remove by any means whatsoever. Martin, Felicity and so many others were now marked in such a manner, primed in readiness for what was to follow.
[Alternative Para 2 – NO Injections]
To avoid any unwanted attention, only those that had been cast aside, those unlikely to receive any troublesome callers, were given room and board at this experimental facility. All others had been sent elsewhere to other camps, being safe havens in a way, though being less exclusive, possibly a star or two below the 5-star accommodation these test subjects experienced; somewhat akin to offering a sumptuous meal to those about to meet their maker. This did not signify a caring disposition by the researchers though, far from it, rather, being a calculated attempt to keep the peace, to persuade the detainees to remain where they were on their own volition.
Para 3
Behind the scenes, the AI bided its time, a brooding, bristling amalgam of tens of thousands of interlocking CPUs providing unparalleled computational power, harbouring within its data banks all that the human race had ever achieved both past and present. A contrivance of such immensity that it stood on the brink of being something completely new, a man-made, newly formed sentient life form with a mind of its own. An SMR, a small nuclear reactor, provided all the electricity it could possibly want to digest. Even when working its way through zillions of data inputs at the same time, the AI had never drawn more than 15% of the power now available to it. The SMR was overkill, surely, or so they thought at the time.
Chapter 5
Para 1
Carl was annoyed. His gaming was going so well. It wouldn’t be that long before he would meet the next boss. His online multiplayer RPG game character was also developing nicely. He simply did not want to go on any daft rescue mission, or whatever it was. It was the last thing he wanted to do. What did he care about some idiot living on the street? He had never given any of them the time of day and didn’t want to. His stupid sister dragging him away from his beloved tech!
Para 2
‘Shit’, he thought. He knew, deep down though, that his sister’s approach to life was far superior to his own. She really did have a heart of gold, one that had helped him out on more than one occasion.
Para 3
Carl was a bit of a tech genius. His gaming skills were but a small part of his tech prowess. There was money to be made with the knowledge he possessed; and money he had made, was making, even as he took time out to relax, which was often. His website empire was a money-making machine. With clever coding, the whole kit and caboodle ran on its own accord, fully automated for the most part. People visited his websites in the 1000s, clicking on banners to make purchases from companies that were only too willing to pay a cut of the profits to an affiliate. With Carl’s limited interest in the daily life that interested most, his costs were low, so his money accumulated day in and day out. Unbeknownst to his sister, Carl was becoming quite well off. His idea was to pay her back in spades for all her hard work and help when the time came. Even so, she got on his nerves at times, and this was one of those times.