RoboNomics

Chapter 85 - 2016

The robotic tour guide is a tall, sleek model that guides me through the labyrinth of massive black boxes. Each one has the iTronics insignia on it.

"The servers you see here process information and produce new ideas in a similar manner to a human brain. And they require far less space than old transistor database servers."

I'm the only person on the tour. I've already taken this tour once, when I first arrived on Mars. But that seems so long ago.

My head, at the time, was spinning with the changes. I barely listened as the android guided me around the vast quantum server farms and iTronics production facilities.

But this time, I'm paying attention. It wasn't difficult to convince my colleagues, through Mitra, that because of the skinless droid I'd seen traipsing through the iTronics lobby, I wanted to investigate. They humored me.

I went to Salvino's office to have him sign off on the tour. Like mine, it was in a vast corner of the upper floors. But unlike mine, it was all stainless steel and glass furniture, with a stand of tropical plants like a living display by the window.

"I don't know what you expect to find," he declared. "That android gives very superficial information on the tour."

Now, as I walk a step behind the stiff, silver android, I look with rapid glances at the duct work in the ceiling, the circular holes in the grey concrete walls, and the computing systems. I can already see that this is going to be a problem: I've been out of the habit of hacking since long before quantum processors functioned within an artificially intelligent computing paradigm.

"And what about security?" I ask the android. "How can we make sure that our systems are safe from the threat of competition?"

"No need to fear threats," the bot replies. "We have the most advanced security system in existence. Not even RobNomics possesses a system as advanced as ours. It is completely automated. A closed system of artificial intelligence that programs its own security software and cannot be penetrated."

The speech sparks an idea.

"And what if RoboNomics' artificial intelligence attempted an attack on our systems?"

The machine cocks its head and looks at me with cartoonish silver eyes.

"It is possible that it could occur," it states haltingly. "But highly improbable that an attack of that nature would succeed."

"Why not?"

"Because of our patented quantum capture system. There would be no reason to attack iTronics since any attack would never be successful."

The rest of the tour is completely unhelpful. I see rooms of electronics that smell like burning dust. These machine brains do the work that had once filled the lives of thousands of humans.

But knowing that doesn't help me understand how to penetrate this system. I don't even know where to start.

Chris is waiting for my report. If I don't give it to him soon, he'll turn me over to the authorities. As the tour ends, my anxiety builds. I'll have to go find him immediately and tell him the little I've found out.

But as I cross the lobby to leave the iTronics building, I see a tall man engrossed in the FlexPhone he holds as he limps towards me.

"Rupert," I call to him.

He starts physically and looks up at me. "Oh, Ms. Anderson," he says. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I could say the same thing about you," I reply. "I work here, remember?"

"Yes. But I understand you've been stressed since the incident at the vineyard."

When I reappeared at the house, Austin and Rupert had already begun a frantic search for me. I told them I grew impatient waiting for Rupert and wandered out of the vineyard. I was just lost, I said, in the countryside for six hours.

Austin was grateful to have me back, but I don't think Rupert quite believed me.

"Yes, but I guess I --" suddenly a thought strikes me.

If Rupert has worked with Donald as long as he claims, he probably knows more about the company than anyone alive.

"Rupert," I said quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he says as he slips the FlexPhone into his blazer pocket.

"Do you think..." I begin, shifting from one foot to the other. "Do you think it's possible that RoboNomics would ever be able to access our systems?"

"Access our systems? No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"I just had a tour of the server rooms. The thing -- the bot, I mean -- said that our systems could never be compromised. But do you think it's possible?"

"Possible? I doubt it. RoboNomics, like our company, is run mainly by automated processes. And that software, or artificial intelligence if you like, has no concept of monetary value. It has no need to attack the competition because it has no desire for money. It cannot cheat, in short."

I need to know more, but I also need to sound discrete.

"But what if motivation...randomly developed...out of the code, you know?"

"I'm afraid what you're talking about is more science fiction than fact."

"So you don't think the machines could just...believe they should attack our servers on their own?"

I glance at the ground and redden. The questions make me feel like I am new to the world.

"Ms. Anderson," he lays a hand on my shoulder as he leans into his cane. "You're under the impression that a machine thinks in the same way that humans think. That isn't possible. Threat to life, to freedom, or to finances are human constructs. Consciousness can never be found in microchips and diodes. It cannot simply emerge from thin air.

"When left to its own devices, as it is here, A.I. solves problems with dizzying speed compared to a human. But it lacks soul. It has no capacity to emote. And emotion is one half of every human endeavor. It doesn't have a muse, it cannot push the paradigms of science or of art forward. It can only work within the parameters that humans have imposed on it. With impressive efficiency and problem solving capabilities indeed, but never outside the box. It can never know what the next problem is. It cannot ask a question, and it cannot feel the spark of inspiration."

I nod, sorry to have opened my mouth.

"And what about humans? Couldn't RoboNomics executives make their machines get into our system?"

I'm carefully not to say the words "hack" or "code."

"That's far more probable than any machine intelligence being behind such an attack. But it would be criminal. And besides, who would do such a thing? There are no programmers in New Rome but the computers themselves."

There weren't any programmers in New Rome, I think. Until now.

(Continued in Chapter 86...)