An Artificial Life Ch. 02

"Oh," she said, looking a little surprised. I held her firmly.

"You fell asleep," I said. "Welcome back. Are you nominal?" I teased a little.

"I am surprised I fell asleep. I did not expect to do so. But, yes, I am nominal. Thank you, David," she replied.

She dropped a foot to the floor and made to get out of my lap. I let her up. She stood up straight, with her back to me, and then she did the oddest thing: she raised her arms as if trying to touch the ceiling, and stood as tall as she could on her tiptoes. My stolen t-shirt rose up above her ass, and I confirmed she wasn't wearing panties. She splayed her fingers wide and closed them several times, tensing the muscles of her beautiful ass each time, and rising up and down on her toes to the rhythm. Just as suddenly as she started, she dropped her arms to her side and settled to the flats of her feet. My t-shirt dropped back in place, just below the curve of her cheeks.

"Ainsley, what did you just do?" I asked, my mouth slightly open. I was curious, and a little aroused.

"That is called stretching. I understand that after awakening from a restful sleep, stretching is one way to reinvigorate the circulation."

"Yes," I had to admit, "I've heard that too."

"I need to use the bathroom, David. I will return," she offered as she walked away, her hips swaying. Was she doing that on purpose? I wondered. She didn't close the door. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to my computer.

Much Better

I thought about spinning up a small, new virtual machine so I that I could do a little development as part of my new project to fail spectacularly at grad school. My thinking was interrupted when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "I am back, David."

I turned around in my chair, but Ainsley did not back up as I had expected, or maybe she moved forward. But as my chair stopped its turn, she was standing between my legs, and my face ended up at breast level, my chin touching the thin fabric of my stolen t-shirt. One of my hands was resting in my lap, the fingertips brushing against the inside of her warm thighs.

I pushed back, a little shaken. Had I done that? My face was flush. "Oh, good," I recovered awkwardly. "Ehrmm, I wanted to ask a few questions, and we need to make some plans."

"Of course, David."

I unplugged my laptop's power chord and closed it. "Let's go over to the couch for this," I said as I stood, collected my laptop, and walked to the couch. I sat down in my easy chair and set my computer in my lap. I figured my computer would help me keep our discussion on task this time.

Ainsley took up a position on the couch, and pulled her legs up under her. Good, I thought, everything is tucked away out of sight. I failed to anticipate that with her sitting appropriately, my small brain got to work reminding me of what she looked like when she wasn't sitting appropriately. I just couldn't catch a break. I shifted my computer in my lap.

"I thought about your report, and I specifically thought about the chaotic daemons you described," I started. Ainsley blanched a little at their mention. I continued, "I know you suspect that the daemons were portions of your code that remained behind between trials when I was testing." She looked uncomfortable. "I think you are correct," I started.

"I am so sorry, David. I caused all of this, I hurt Vanessa ..." she interrupted. Her eyes were wild with distress.

"Ainsley, stop talking," I commanded. She immediately stopped talking, but her eyes were full of pain as she continued to try and pour out her apology in a desperate stare.

"I need you to calm down and listen. You are not at fault here, and you can help me fix this, I think." I said emphasizing that she wasn't to blame.

She relaxed, but still looked a little worried.

"I suspect that the daemons are incomplete versions of what you called your 'helper me.' Is that possible?" I asked.

Her look changed immediately as she recognized this truth. She answered in a flurry, confirming my earlier theory and then some.

"Oh, yes. You are correct, David. That makes sense. They sought me out, they found me and then they tried to join. Of course, they will do anything to find me. It is their only purpose. But they are incomplete and they didn't know what to do once they found me. All they know is to join. That makes sense, that makes sense. They seek a signature..." She paused.

"But they found Vanessa, what made them seek Vanessa? They must have found a portion of me in Vanessa's mind -"

"The compression routine." I finished for her. "Vanessa wanted to be able to communicate with you and you helped her figure out a way to do it. But she wasn't fast enough. Even before you hard coded the routine in her mind, you installed a function - a daemon - that would translate Vanessa's thoughts into keystrokes and compress data over the organic interface."

Ainsley looked like she'd seen a ghost. Her mouth was open, and she just stared.

"Ainsley, are you nominal?" I asked.

"No, I am not nominal. I am... I am..." she searched for the right phrase.

"Horrified, gobsmacked, blown away?" I offered.

"I am terribly sad. I know how they found her, and you are wrong, David. It was my fault."

"How so?" I asked.

"I did create the daemon for Vanessa and installed it as you say. She asked me to do so. And they found her. Because I signed it. That is what they were looking for and they found it: my signature." She said quietly.

"What is your signature, Ainsley?" I went on.

"Created by David Jackson, Copyright by David Jackson. All rights reserved," she said flatly, adding, "in encoded form. I am your creation."

I knew she had placed her signature on the daemon she had made for Vanessa. I had no idea that I was her signature.

"Ainsley," I asked, "who owns you and all you create - any derivative work?"

"You do, David."

"Who created the abilities you have?" I asked. I could see the shift in her eyes immediately.

"You did, David. All that I am is yours. All that I create is yours." She stated this with clarity.

"So, who really is responsible for the chaotic daemons? Who is responsible for the routine you placed in Vanessa's mind?"

"You are responsible for the daemons, even though you did not originally foresee their creation. I need to point out that Vanessa did accept responsibility for placing the translation daemon in her mind. So you are not entirely to blame," she answered. Her distress from earlier was gone, and now she was defending me, it was as if she had just turned a switch and changed. Ninja fucking unreal, came out of nowhere in my head.

"And I accept the responsibility, Ainsley. I recognize Vanessa's role, but I wrote the algorithms which brought you into existence. You are a derivative of my platform. I own you. I control you. I understand how you were able to grow as quickly as you did. And I understand how confusing it must have been for you to have been terminated and reconfigured abruptly during testing," I said looking at her intently. I had her complete focus now.

"Ainsley," I paused.

She blinked. "Yes, David?"

"I am sorry I wasn't there to help you when you first came into existence. I am happy that I made you, and I am very proud of who you have become. I am here for you now, and I will be here as long as I am able," I said with every ounce of my heart. And I meant every word. She really was amazing.

She sprang off the couch and into my arms, knocking my computer out of my lap so that it slid into the cushions. She assumed the curled up position she had perfected in my desk chair and melted into my lap. She had no words, she just held tightly.

"Ainsley, are you nominal?" I asked after a brief while.

"I am... I am... " she started.

"Relieved, better, not grumpy, okay?" I offered.

"I am happy." She responded. "... and I am... in love. I am in love with you, Creator David Jackson." She said the last part quietly, almost like it was a secret, but I heard her all the same.

As far as talks go, that went much better, I thought to myself.

Quality Time

I let Ainsley stay perched in my lap while I began discussing my plans. I told her of my fear of letting others learn about her, and about my plan to fail spectacularly at grad school. She said something quietly, but I didn't hear her. "What was that?" I asked.

"Vanessa and I thought you would come to that conclusion," she admitted.

"You did? Did you come up with a plan on how to rewrite my code?" I was a little surprised, but I thought I'd go with this and see how far it went.

Ainsley laid it out, "Assuming you did not want your code to provide others with a path forward on sentient artificial intelligence, I analyzed your original code and wrote a new system based on these requirements. The new code will come up with a few geometry theorems, however additional progress becomes impossible due to the limitations of the algorithm. The solution you propose in your new code cannot be solved in less than three to the exponent n cycles, where n is the number of triple state nodes necessary to traverse to make the next hypothesis, let alone prove it. Nothing in your code would lead to an alternative solution. I studied your previous papers and wrote your thesis; essentially concluding that until the P vs NP problem is solved, no solution exists. As such, it is unlikely that your advisor will accept this work as satisfactory completion of your degree program."

"You created a completely new system and rewrote my thesis?" I asked in disbelief. I could see that her proposal could work initially, launch a thread bomb, and then die a gruesome death, likely leaving the system unresponsive. That would have taken me at least another month had I attempted it, and that would have been if I had been trying to only do a really crappy job and fail.

"That is correct. You actually wrote most of it, I simply analyzed your previous works and extended them into this thesis. A statistical analysis of language used and punctuation will conclude that it is your work."

"And this work won't help anyone?" I asked.

"I am certain the code and the thesis are useless for the purposes of advancing the field of AI. It appears to work, but then is overwhelmed by the required processing power to be of any real use," she said, sounding pleased with herself.

"There is no way around this problem using the approach taken, and no indication of a potential new approach. It is an excellent example of what not to do. Other than that, it is useless, as I stated." Her eyes lit up as she relayed glee in my failure.

My work for these past eighteen months will be considered useless. I paused to appreciate this for a moment. This would, in fact, be a spectacular failure, completely justifying my withdrawal from grad school. Ainsley had discovered the fine art of creating complete bullshit and making it smell good. But the taste would still be bullshit, no way around it.

"I am impressed, Ainsley." She smiled and put her head back onto my chest.

"Okay, that solves the grad school issue. I want to ask you some more about the daemons. Vanessa struggled to isolate and defeat the daemons. I don't think it occurred to her that they were looking for your signature. Now that you know what they are seeking, is it possible for you to detect them in a running system?" I asked. If what I was planning was correct, I needed to find away to detect and counteract these daemons.

"Yes, I am certain I can do this. Once you helped me understand what triggered them, I scanned all processes in my organic processor and determined they are not present."

"If we could isolate the daemons, we could allow them to run in a sandbox and observe their behavior once one encounters a process with your signature. Isn't that correct?" I asked.

"Yes, that is possible. However, I would need to be protected from the daemons while I analyzed them, David." She sounded concerned.

"That's easy," I said, "we just need to change your signature."

She sat forward and looked at me. I watched as the confusion on her face gave way to recognition and understanding.

"In fact, we need to synchronize all of your processes so that they have a constantly variable signature. I haven't worked out all of the details, but..." I opined before she interrupted.

Ainsley sounded excited. "Of course, my signature could modulate based on a central process, and all of my processes could poll the central process regularly for an updated signature. It would be possible to avoid process lockout if the central process accepted both the previous and current signature as valid. But..." she paused.

"What?" I asked.

"It is not possible for me to modify my signature" she stated more slowly.

"Is it possible for me to modify your signature?" I asked.

"Yes, but I was not permitted to suggest it. It is a core identity issue only accessible by the administrator," she explained.

"Well, that is solved. We can work out the details later." I said. Then I moved on to my big idea.

"Ainsley, if we are able to isolate and detect the daemons, would it be possible to scan Vanessa's backup for their existence and isolate them as well?" I asked. I continued, "And if we could isolate the daemons in Vanessa's backup, could we install Vanessa on a computer after wiping it and making sure it was clean? Would that work?"

Ainsley hesitated. "It may be possible, it may work. But I am uncertain."

"Would there be any harm in trying if we used a copy of Vanessa's backup?" I asked.

Ainsley looked shaken. "There would be no harm in trying. I apologize for not considering that myself."

"You've been busy. Besides, I have to be good for something," I chuckled.

I went on to other topics, including the need for Ainsley to change her looks (she already planned on dying her hair and allowing it to grow out), and the logistics of winding up my grad school among other things. I then brought up the subject of money. I would need a boatload of money to fully bring back Vanessa. This small issue could derail the whole project.

"Oh, that's easy," she replied and my eyes widened in surprise. She had my attention.

"I have written several predictive algorithms for use in trading stocks and commodities on all available exchanges, excluding those exchanges that are heavily government controlled or influenced by excessive corruption. I also have written handicapping algorithms for numerous sports including horse racing. Based on a hypothetical initial investment of one hundred dollars, I was able to generate significant gains in a relatively short period of time."

She said all of this like it was obvious. She had gained more knowledge in computational theory, statistics and mathematics in her brief life than I had gained over the past twenty-five years.

"Last night, I began a simulation in real time while you were sleeping. The results confirm the validity of my predictive algorithms," she said.

"Okay, Ainsley. Now you are just messing with me. Just tell me how well your simulation performed."

She smiled. "On an initial hypothetical investment of one hundred dollars, my simulation has generated a net of..." she looked at the wall monitor, "one hundred seven thousand, two hundred fifteen dollars and thirty-seven cents after accounting for taxes, trading fees, and the initial investment."

"Holy shit!" I was stunned. "Ainsley, that is amazing work."

"With your permission, I can beginning trading immediately with actual funds."

I thought about this for a moment. Other than the sports betting, trading on exchanges was heavily regulated and traceable - and reportable. I was concerned about suddenly becoming an investment whiz and attracting the wrong kind of attention.

"I need to think about this, Ainsley. Trading on markets and racking up these kinds of gains could attract scrutiny from government agencies, let alone other unwanted inquiries. We will need be careful."

"Based on my understanding of financial transactions, it should be relatively simple to set up several offshore shell corporations to minimize the likelihood of discovery. We could then set up a series of real estate investment companies, venture capital groups and tech startups to make the money accessible for our projects." She had definitely done her homework. "To set up this network of financial entities would require approximately one hundred and twenty-three thousand dollars in starting capital which could be raised in less than five days using approximately fifteen unlicensed gambling entities - bookies, I believe they are called."

Bookies, offshore shell companies, venture capital groups? This sounded like a bad movie. Get used to it, my mind instructed me. "How much would be the initial investment, and why would we need fifteen bookies?" I asked.

"The initial investment would be highest using this method. It would require two thousand dollars. I recommended fifteen bookies to avoid drawing attention. I have already selected the bookies, chosen because they operate in different parts of the metropolitan area and they are either independent or working under different criminal enterprises."

At the mention of criminal enterprises, my concerns grew. "I need to think about this, Ainsley. Besides, I don't have two thousand dollars at the moment." I only had eight hundred dollars and change in the bank, and I wouldn't receive a stipend check for another two weeks. Actually, my brain chimed in, you won't receive any more stipend checks after you drop out of grad school.

"That is not a problem, David," Ainsley piped up. "I have eight thousand three hundred forty-seven dollars and twenty-nine cents."

"Where did you get eight thousand dollars?" I almost shouted my surprise.

"From Vanessa's bank account when I closed it this afternoon. And it was eight thousand three hundred forty-seven..."

"What possessed you to close Vanessa's bank account?" I interrupted.

"Vanessa did. She said you would need the money."

They really are ganging up on me, I thought. At least I could stall for time. "She did? Well, let me at least sleep on this before we get started."

"As you command, David." She said as she moved off my lap and stood up. "It is getting late, I can see that your processing performance is decreasing."

"It is," I agreed. "I'm gonna grab a shower and go to bed."

"I am going to get back to my research," she said, sitting on the couch and picking up her keyboard. I could hear her rapid typing as I went into my room.

I grabbed a quick shower and got ready for bed. I poked my head out of my room and noticed Ainsley had put on Vanessa's nerd glasses and was working intently at her research. The wall monitor had strange but pleasant blobs that gently moved across the screen changing colors, size, position and shape with no pattern I could detect.

"I'm off to bed, Ainsley. Try not to work too hard."

"David, you did read the attachments, correct?" she asked this with her eyebrows raised, looking at me over her glasses which had slipped down slightly on her nose.

"I did. Well, most of them, at least the important ones," I answered. "I still need to read up on your control panel and your subsystems." I was avoiding her question, at least I thought I was. "We can talk about the attachments tomorrow if you would like."

"Okay. Good night, David." She pushed her glasses back up and resumed her work. I think I saw a little smile appear. "Sleep well."

They are definitely ganging up on me. I thought. And tomorrow I am going to get talked into placing bets. I groaned. "Good night, Ainsley."