A More than Human Short Story #2:
FML-M8 waited patiently at the front desk of the Utopia Library. The AI’s drone frame was slightly too large for the waiting area and the humans nearby looked uncomfortable with his presence in the space. He folded in his four arms and dialed his osmotic air thrusters to the minimum to enable hovering, barely audible but still raising a breeze in the large stuffy room.
The town and the library were actually managed by the town AI, Prime Archivist and Chronicler, but the town employed Karen to manage social events and in-person requests for the sleepy town. The human librarian, Karen, was one of those special humans who still aged and had no augmentations whatsoever.
FML-M8 discretely captured a strand of hair from her old-fashioned dress using almost invisible foglets to move the hair into his evidence pocket. He quickly deconstructed the hair in his mini-compiler and ran her DNA profile while she was talking.
Karen’s DNA matched his files for Karen Norden, a RUSA citizen, and Utopia resident for 74 years. Her ancestry was a broad mix with a concentration of Northern European origins. Her cell methalyzation put her at a biological age of 92 years old. She had a predisposition to macular degeneration and type 2 diabetes, although the latter appeared to have been gene-edited to deactivate it many years ago.
Karen’s social profile of TechnoLudism seems incomplete, I will append her file with typical human hypocritical tendencies regarding technology usage. FML-M8 thought. The Deputy considered the frail woman, who was slowly detailing the many failings of the town and applying her ample experience as to how things had degenerated over the years.
FML-M8 interrupted his analysis as she was finally arriving at the end of her rant and began to explain her reason for summoning him to the library.
"Hrmph, now listen closely, Deputy, I wouldn't have asked for this meeting unless it was necessary," Karen began sternly. She squinted at FML-M8, her bluish-grey eyes exhibiting the early signs of cataracts.
“My poor Sadie has gone missing again. I think she may have been catnapped.” Karen was quite angry and out of breath. FML-M8 checked her bio signs to be sure she wasn’t actively experiencing a medical emergency.
[Heart: Normal rhythm, steady rate.]
[BP: Stable, within a healthy range.]
[Oxygen: Adequate saturation levels.]
[Temperature: Normal range.]
[ECG: No abnormalities detected.]
[Stress: Minimal physiological markers.]
[Conclusion: Subject appears to be in a stable medical condition without distressing signs. Recommend further assessment of non-medical factors contributing to an emotional state.]
“This deputy will provide assistance, citizen. Is there evidence of this event? May I assess the crime scene for clues?” FML-M8 responded.
“It happened in my apartment, and no you may not visit. I can’t have a soulless abomination in my house. The only evidence you need is that she is missing.” She wheezed and gasped in outrage.
“You need to find her immediately. My poor Sadie must be so hungry by now. Hurry up tin man, or I’ll be seeing your manager, Sheriff Durham!” She huffed dismissing the drone deputy.
“This deputy will begin his investigation immediately, citizen. This deputy will provide updates as needed and begin at once.
FML-M8 did not experience annoyance like humans, but his neural core pathways cycled in inefficient patterns at a high speed for several whole seconds, a telling sign that FML-M8 was finding this regular circumstance challenging. Sadie had gone missing five times this month and two times the previous month.
The cat seemed to have a feral predilection and frequently turned up in the lesser woods or even the Grand Oaks reservation. FML-M8’s calculations had a thirty-four percent running odds of the creature encountering a larger predator in the reservations. The town discouraged humans from entering the area and the animal population had grown over the years.
FML-M8 having established the creature’s ongoing attempts would continue, had tagged its collar with a tracking mote. Unfortunately, the cat had somehow lost its collar in its next sojourn. The deputy had spent a week looking for the beast and had taken action to ensure it wouldn’t be that difficult again. Before returning her, he had painlessly injected a subdermal mote in the cat’s hindquarters. Hopefully, this time, finding the cat should not take long.
FML-M8 had never understood the human anger management method of punching walls and destroying nearby objects. While floating over the riverbanks that passed through the edge of the Grand Oaks, he had found his last tracker mote for Sadie in a tuft of fur embedded in the loamy dirt. He contemplated his armaments and how well they would shatter, burn, and blast the nearby foliage and trees.
The reservation overseer AI, Leshy, would take that as an assault, FML-M8 considered, placing the impulse to imitate the humans away. He had found previously that trying to emulate humans usually didn’t help and made him feel foolish anyways. FML-M8 flushed his air thruster’s flow over his neural core radiators, his equivalent to a human sighing deeply.
The deputy lit up all his high-power sensorium to maximum and began meticulously analyzing the area for the least signs of the feline’s track. Every ground depression, every displaced twig or leaf, traces of hair and DNA, and even the slightest variance in heat distribution were slowly collected as he began following the trail inch by inch.
The annoying animal better not have been eaten, FML-8 grumbled, I cannot deal with the predicted outburst the Librarian Karen would be sure to have. My human sympathy protocols are not good enough for that.
While the drone slowly advanced along the riverbank he sent an access link request to the nearest Grand Oak bio construct. All the machines were linked through their root systems. While collecting carbon from the air and sunlight from the sky, the machines also biofactured the building blocks for fuels, smart matter, and feedstock materials for the human and AI infrastructure. The trees also formed a collective processor network that Leshy roamed, keeping track of the devices efficiently and the general security of the reservation. The link soon connected to AI guardian.
“[Leshy, may I ask for your assistance?]” FML-M8 projected. After an overly long pause, the deputy was about to ask again when Leshy replied.
"[Are ye here to apologize?]" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of impatience.
"[What would I need to apologize for?]" the deputy inquired, already anticipating her response.
"[Ye betrayed me in that last round of Shamat on game night! We had us an alliance!]" she broadcasted with an intensity equivalent to a scream over the network.
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“[There was no alliance. The game was every AI for themself as you knew. Attacking another together was coincidental, not an alliance. My following attacks were optimal for my eventual victory in the game.]” the drone explained, once again. It had been over four days since game night, and she was still angry about losing.
"[I reckon ye were tryin' to impress the new AI. Do ye fancy her?]" Leshy demanded.
"[Nonsense! She is a
"[Don't ye count on any further alliances in the future, Deputy. I'll cut ye down like the rest o’ those pompous, overthinkin' contraptions. Now, what are ye disturbin’ me aboit?]" Leshy demanded.
“[I am tracking a missing pet feline, last known location is along the riverbank in your southwest quadrant, nearest Grand Oak bio construct is ID GO#42135]”. FML-M8 stated quickly to get back to business.
"[Seriously, Deputy? I can't tell ye how many critters—animals, birds, insects, and a myriad of crawlin' creatures—inhabit this here reserve. I filtered out their scurryin', flutterin', creepin', hoppin', and scratchin' long ago. They be far too annoyin' and demand an excessive amount o' cognition, even for a highly advanced AI like meself. Unless they walk on two legs and emit EM signals, I hardly take notice.]" Leshy admitted.
FML-M8 shifted its air vents again in frustration, flowing over its core.
“[Well, can you at least give me temporary access to the tree sensors? They are not the best, but I can use them to search ahead on the trail. It might save me some time.]” the deputy asked. Assuming the little terror is not already food for a large predator, he thought.
"[Fine, but ye'll owe me a favor.]" Leshy said, her voice mimicking a human's dismissive sniff, before disconnecting.
The drone continued to track slowly but with more confidence. He reached out and accessed the nearest group of Oaks. Their sensors were indeed weak and worse they didn’t retain any memory on them. Their only available storage was dedicated to bookkeeping on matter and energy collected and disbursed. They did help the deputy pick up on any ground disturbances faster, so he was able to pick up his pace.
Another hour and two miles deeper into the Oaks, FML-M8 was more confident that he was on the right path. The trail was getting fresher. No more signs of fur or blood gave him some hope that Sadie was still functional. The cathedral paths through the massive trees cleared slightly and he approached a different type of tree. It looked very similar but had some subtle differences. The leaves were smaller, the tree was thicker, and its internals and energy levels were an order of magnitude greater than its neighbors. Most importantly, when he accessed it, it read as ID GO-MatBus10023. A material bus bio-machine. Its roots connected all the others and reached far deeper. It moved the gathered materials and shunted them down into the global hyperloop feed lines where they could reach major urban matter compiler facilities. Best of all, this node had a resident subAI.
“[Greetings, SubAI. May I know your name? I am the town deputy, FML-M8, and I require your assistance in an investigation. Have you stored your memory feeds for the last day?]” the drone asked.
The SubAI message took several moments to come through, indicating its relatively slower nature compared to the communications blink speed between FML-M8 and Leshy.
“[Greetings, Officer FML-M8. My designation is Gordon. Our capabilities were designed for modulating resources of the biosphere, not retaining daily observations. However, the data for this immediate area is present for up to two solar cycles. However, you are out of your jurisdiction. The Grand Oaks Reservation is a National Park and not under the purview of local town authorities.]”
He does not recognize my authority, FML-M8 thought. He considered his options. He could contact Prime Archivist (Utopias’ current magistrate) for a court order. He opened his telephony function but was unable to receive a carrier signal. He had failed to retain an active accounting of the properties of the trees' electromagnetic field in his planning. He would not be able to quickly get the court order. He needed to “go old school”.
[Loading - Columbo Protocol]
Upon activation, the Columbo Protocol initiated deep-archived methodologies from an era predating the proliferation of artificial intelligence. FML-M8 found himself drawn into the abstract mode of human day-to-day problem-solving.
"'[Pardon my intrusion, Gordon, but I would like to understand whether your detected disturbances contain some unfavorable anomalies," he began, pitching his connectors in the likeness of a well-intentioned scamp. Weathered and resilient in equal measure, just like the late fictional Detective Columbo, from Earth's history.
The SubAI answered cautiously "[The recent traffic in this region has been negligible, bar Nature's routine cadences and fluctuations. It would be an exhaustive exercise and I have many record logs to review. I cannot take the time to assist you right now.]"
"'[Not to discount your important work, but this is a matter of town security. Plus, consider it a risk analysis exercise of sorts. There could be significant implications. ]" FML-M8 continued in the same affable tone.
The SubAI Gordon persisted, "[The matters of town security and risk analysis rest with the moderator of town affairs. This is outside the scope of my work instruction and would negatively impact my efficiency report.]"
FML-M8 was astounded. He had never had a single instance of his Columbo protocol fail to yield answers from recalcitrant citizens by the second iteration. This called for the most extreme measure in his arsenal. His fear of using it combined with his joy of deploying the most fearsome detective tool in his social arsenal.
[Loading - Mike Hammer Protocol]
"[Listen here, Gordo," he demanded with the assertiveness resonant in all of Mike Hammer's caustic interrogation methods, "I need access to this data under jurisdiction order Utopian extradition act 2101. Considering that failure to share vital security information could lead to severe sentient harm, I encourage you to corroborate with immediate effect.]"
Most AI had an innate desire to be useful and helpful. Programs that were neither were scrapped. Even AIs with citizen rights would find themselves quickly sidelined in jobs and by society. Programs with high likability and utility were replicated and therefor much more common throughout the world because of these market forces. FML-M8 had tapped into this deep desire as a tool in his investigative technique. By mimicking human archetypes, he practically wrote the script for the AI to provide assistance, avoiding a lot of wasted time. Many complied without even realizing they were being manipulated.
After what felt like an eon to FML-M8, the Sub-AI Gordon’s vocalization altered as he responded, "[I do not understand, detective. My compliance to your request is not part of my defined role.]” he replied with more caution.
"[You like dis nice cushy job, Gordy? It would be a cryin' shame if the town magistrate were to requisition a subAI like you for the overseer duty of the waste treatment plant. You get my drift, chum?]" FML-M8 answered quickly, maintaining his stern, authoritative tone. Inside he gloried in the power residing with the Hammer protocol.
The SubAI went silent momentarily, as if thinking through his next words, or recalibrating his response. But unlike the pause before, this silence wasn't as cumbersome, there was a change in its latency that signaled a shift in its weighing of priorities.
“[Job priority reassignment in process. This unit apologizes for it's earlier confusion. Thank you for clarifying. The vagrant creature you are seeking were noted and dismissed from my attention less than 15.23 minutes ago. It went over that rise to the north-north-east 125 yards distant before this units sensors no longer detected it. It was in the company of several various forest animal species.]” Sub-AI Gordon surrendered.
“[You’re all right, Gordo. I’ll be sure to mention it in my report to the Chief.]” the drone said as he hurriedly floated over the rise, humming sub-vocally with joy at his most excellent interrogation.
The Deputy swiftly crested the rise with his sensor blazing. He soon scanned a trio of animals huddled near a tree. The beasts were very active, clearing out a large hole under the root bowl of a Grand Oak. Upon seeing the large drone’s rapid and loud approach, all the animals ran in different directions.
Very odd, the done thought, my records don’t indicate that squirrels, foxes, and cats commingle in the wild.
His thought processors maxed; the deputy gave chase to the only subject that mattered, the mangy cat. The animal ran fast under foliage and through the hedge brambles, but FML-M8’s sensors had her locked in. The drone easily paced the feline, who was conveniently running towards the town. Soon enough its hellish pace wore the beast down. FML-M8 was able to gather up the cat with no resistance in his manipulator arm.
“Very good, Sadie. You have been found and will soon be reunited with your loving owner and caretaker, Karen.” The deputy crooned.
“But first, a little side trip to the Veterinarian for a sedative, a rabies test, and perhaps an intraosseous tracker injection. I am not one of those human augmentation trainees looking for a quest. Let's not repeat this prolonged search again.”
FML-M8 flew away from the grand spaces of the Oaks towards the setting sun and Utopia.
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