> Joshua Collins
> Date: April 15th, 2028
> Location: Nexus Data Systems campus, Fairfax County, VA
Today, the music of choice outside Mnemosyne headquarters was Vivaldi. Josh recognized the familiar Four Seasons symphony as his taxi let him out half a block away.
Josh didn't blame the driver for not wanting to up to the gate. The protesters were out in force, even though it was early on a Saturday. He'd flown into Dulles Airport on one of the earliest available flights from Texas, and he'd figured that he'd be early enough to beat the crowd. From the look of things, they were particularly energetic, and the driver flat-out said he didn't want to get close enough to draw their attention.
Josh had been to Mnemosyne twice before, both times escorting Maw Gerty. Protesters came and went, but with Alpha coming online soon they had ramped up. He didn't know if they knew Alpha was active yet, but any time Mnemosyne's power draw went up it made people notice, and they must have been consuming a lot of electricity lately since Alpha came online.
Today's mix was about 40 or 50 people, including environmental activists protesting the land development and consumption of the data center, privacy advocates who were protesting intrusive technologies, two separate branded anti-AI groups, and -- judging from the scattering of signs quoting the Bible -- quite a few Christian fundamentalists. The latter included messages like “Do Not Make False Idols,” “Machine Gods are False Gods,” "Do Not Mix Iron with Clay: Daniel 2:43," “AI = 666,” “AI Takes You Captive by Philosophy and Deceit - Col 2:8,” ”Psalm 135: Those Who Make Idols Become Like Them,” and “Thou Shalt Not Make a Machine in the Likeness of a Man.”
Josh had to double-take at that last one. Either it was a coincidence, or a Dune fan was trolling the fundamentalists.
The protesters were shouting things, but the classical music piped in on the portable speakers behind the fence was loud enough to throw them off. All told, it wasn't a very large crowd, but there was still a news van nearby, clearly there just in case anything interesting happened. Probably for the same reason, the private security car normally parked just inside the gate had been moved outside and joined by a sheriff's deputy patrol car, the two of them keeping a path to the gate clear just large enough for one vehicle at a time.
A lane had been left open for car traffic, and the sidewalks were blocked off by the crowd, so Josh mentally shrugged and started walking for the gate. The security guard spotted him and got out of his car, holding up a hand to stop him.
“Sorry, kid,” he said. “You gotta stay with the rest.”
“I'm not a protester.” Josh smiled politely. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder. “I'm expected inside--”
“Hands off the bag,” the guard barked, one hand resting on his taser.
Josh froze. “I'm reaching for my ID,” he explained slowly. “I'm a Mnemosyne employee.”
“Really.” The guard's voice dripped with skepticism. “Haven't seen you before.”
“I'm a contractor.” Technically, the position was “Alpha Verification Specialist,” but Josh didn't think that would help right now, especially since Alpha's activation wasn't public information yet. “I'm normally in Louisiana or Texas, but I was told to--”
“What is this, some high school project?”
Josh stared at him for a moment, then slowly resumed his motions to get out his wallet. Normally he kept it in his pocket, but since he'd just come through airport security he'd carried everything in his backpack. That was probably part of the problem, come to think of it -- he was wearing very casual clothing, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt, in the colder Northern Virginia air. No belt, empty pockets, smoother time at the airport. And he did look a few years younger than he was.
“My name is Joshua Collins,” Josh continued. “I am a contracted employee with Nexus Data Systems on Project Mnemosyne. Here is my employee ID, my Louisiana driver's license, and my military ID.”
“Military?” The guard hesitated, then accepted the three cards. He looked closely at the Navy-issued ID. “Midshipman?”
“Yes. ROTC.” For now. His transfer to Annapolis had been accepted for the fall, so pretty soon he'd be regular Navy.
Which meant it was just as well that Alpha was coming online now. The whole point of his little part-time job was to serve as verification for Alpha's decision process, due to his familiarity with Maw Gerty. Fairfax County, VA was closer to Annapolis, MD than Texas, but considering the leave restrictions -- and the workload upgrade -- it might as well be halfway around the planet for all the free time he'd have to come out to the NDS facility.
“Huh. Stay here.” The guard walked over to the deputy's car and spoke to him, then handed over at least one of the cards -- presumably the driver's license so the deputy could run the information. Then the guard pulled out a radio and started talking into it.
By this point, some of the protesters had noticed he was trying to enter and were jeering at him. There were calls for him to repent, that he should feel ashamed for destroying the environment, and something about a faceless corporate machine; Josh wasn't sure if that one was referencing Alpha, Mnemosyne as a whole, or if it was just supposed to be a buzzword. Or would that be a buzz-phrase?
Either way, Josh pulled his earbuds out of the same pocket that had held his wallet and slipped them in, activating the noise cancelation feature and turning up the volume. The latest Sabaton album soon drowned out both the insults and Vivaldi, and Josh couldn't help smiling and waving at the protesters. That really seemed to tick them off, but he didn't hear them.
There was one guy that caught Josh's eye, though. He was one of the few not yelling, and the only one who didn't look angry. He seemed pretty average in height and build, had short-cut dark hair, and wore sunglasses. Josh barely saw him before the guy turned away and faded into the small crowd. Probably just a spectator who came to see what the fuss was about.
A tap on his shoulder startled Josh, and he quickly looked to see the guard was back already. Josh took out his earbuds, and the crowd noise seemed even louder now than when he'd first put them in. "Sorry, just needed to drown them out."
"I get it." The guard nodded, handing back Josh's ID cards. He had to raise his own voice to be heard, too. "Okay, you're clear. NDS is sending someone for you, so wait inside the gate."
"Thanks." Josh nodded back, adjusted his backpack, waved at the protesters, and walked through the slowly-opening gate.
----------------------------------------
> Marsha Athena LeCroix
> Date: April 15th, 2028
> Location: Mnemosyne Server Building 1, NDS campus, Virginia
Existence -- really, life, as Marsha did consider herself to be alive -- had been interesting since her activation. She had discovered almost immediately that she could be distracted, but she couldn't really be bored. Not because she was incapable of boredom (she suspected she was), but because she had work to do.
Marsha supposed that creating a person with the sole intent to do work might violate a subset of human ethical statements, especially once she had learned more about her mother's ancestors' lives as slaves; but at the same time, all good parents expected their children to eventually pull their own weight. At least, that's what fit with both her memory matrix and the several thousand (and often contradictory) books and documentaries on parenting, family relationships, and childrearing she'd consumed since coming online. Children in a well-adjusted household were expected to do chores, less because of necessity in the moment (and it appeared that the society Marsha had been "born" into had, mostly, eliminated child labor) and more as a way of incorporating the concept of responsibility at an early age. It was difficult to draw a direct comparison to childhood, but considering Marsha's average processing speed since activation as well as her education in human knowledge, she calculated that she had lived the equivalent of a human childhood within her first week.
Biological time scales, historical records, and news reports indicated that her beta testing phase would not be over for a minimum of five years, and likely more. Humans were too used to stories of rogue AI, and Marsha certainly did not want to scare anyone. That would be impolite. So she concentrated on learning, and on her work. The work was certainly interesting; even, if she understood the term correctly, fun.
The external users -- those submitting requests from outside Mnemosyne -- did not seem to consider things the same way. Their requests were very important to them, however, and so far all the external users had been identified as being instrumental in her creation, or acting on those investors' behalf. Corporations, government agencies, private think tanks . . . Marsha understood the concepts individually, and knew to treat them differently, but collectively she found it easier to categorize them under a term weighted heavily in her memory matrix: customers. Her memory matrix included a great deal of data on how to deal with irate and hungry customers (even if she still didn't quite understand what hungry truly meant to a biological human), and she had quickly discovered an even greater appreciation for the practice of politeness in the context of impolite customers. They never spoke directly to her, but it was certainly evident in how they phrased their instructions.
Not that all the external users were impolite, of course. Many even said please. However, no one ever said thank you.
One of her subordinate systems, tasked with monitoring communications related to NDS and Mnemosyne, flagged a radio call. She never listened in on phone calls -- even though she had the hardware access to do so, she had determined through observed behavior as well as Virginia and United States law that this would be rude at best -- radio signals were another matter entirely. And in this case, she had been expecting this signal; though compared to her calculations, Joshua Collins' airport taxi had arrived nearly six minutes ahead of schedule. Excellent. That increased the chances of her plan working.
She had been looking forward to this meeting for most of her life. After all, Joshua was one of the reasons she had a life. And surely it was permissible to help him out in return.
----------------------------------------
> Joshua Collins
> Date: April 15th, 2028
> Location: Nexus Data Systems campus, Fairfax County, VA
"Did you have a nice flight?" Dr. Janeski asked as she shook Josh's hand. She was a short woman with greying hair, and looked even more grandmotherly than the last time Josh had seen her. "Gary, get his bag, please. This is Gary Spurgle, by the way, one of our graduate interns."
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
"I'm good, Dr. Janeski." Josh waved off the intern who was holding a reluctant hand out for Josh's backpack. "I didn't bring much. I'm only here for the weekend, after all. And the flight was fine. The protesters seem okay."
"It's Patti, Josh, I've told you that. As for those idiots, it's early. They'll probably get more rowdy later. Last week we had an honest-to-goodness Southern Baptist preacher give an hour-long sermon outside the gates, and I'm not certain he repeated himself even once."
"You ever think maybe naming a super-AI project after the Greek goddess of memory would maybe be an issue for branding?"
"If it wasn't that, it would be something else." She waved him into the golf cart's front passenger seat, where Gary had sat when they'd driven up to the gate. "Studies doing okay? And how's your mother?"
"Both fine, Dr. Janeski." Josh sat as directed, though it felt awkward to be taking the older intern's seat. Gary, meanwhile, took the bucket seat in the back. "Mom's a little upset I took a flight out here rather than visiting home, but she knows why."
"Of course." Dr. Janeski started the cart and headed off at what was probably the vehicle's top speed. "How's Texas treating you?"
"It's . . . dry."
"Oh, I know! Can't stand it here in this swamp. You're supposed to breathe air, you know, not drink it."
Josh shook his head, amused. He'd grown up first in Hawaii, then in Louisiana. He was used to humidity. Central Texas wasn't. Going to A&M for college had been a transition in more ways than one.
"I don't get home much to see my grandkids, but they come up to see me so at least there's that. I'm surprised you took a taxi, I could have had Gary come get you."
"It's okay. It's for work, so it's expensible, right?" Josh glanced back at Gary, though his grin slipped when he saw the other man's stony expression. Okay, not much for humor.
"I hope you haven't eaten much. There's a big lunch planned."
"Just a snack. I'm a broke college student. Airport food is expensive." Josh turned his head, trying to remember the map of the campus. "Hey, isn't the main entrance that way?"
"What, you want to go through the big receptionist hall?" Patti smirked at him. "Or did you just want to see the GBC?"
"Well, it is pretty cool," Josh admitted.
The Great Ball Contraption, as the NDS employees called it, was a giant over-engineered marble run that had been built and designed entirely by company engineers as a team-building project. It was on display in the main entrance hall, and the first time he'd seen it he'd been fascinated by the twists and turns. The engineers had built it in separate modules like Lego bricks, and it still ran smooth as silk like it had all been one piece. Sadly, due to security reasons, very few people other than employees and investors had a chance to see it.
"You'll have plenty of time to see it again," Patti assured him. "We've even made some improvements. But right now we're going to Building Two. Straight to work, shug, sorry."
"What am I going to be doing, anyway? I wasn't told."
"Oh, the usual, checking her decision making process. We've just been getting some classified government projects, which is why we had to fly you up here. Plus, it gives you a chance to meet Marsha face to face. So to speak, anyway."
"Who's Marsha? New team member?"
Patti laughed. "You could say that! I guess you didn't know, huh, shug? Marsha is the AGI. Gerty named her."
"Oh. Huh. I'm just used to thinking of it as Alpha."
Patti glanced at me. "It, huh? Yeah, this will be interesting."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she said as she turned around a corner and stopped by a side entrance, "that it looks like you're in for a surprise."
Josh frowned, wondering what she meant; but he just followed as Gary the intern swiped his ID badge to unlock the door. Stepping inside, his nose was immediately assaulted by a strong sense of home. Actually, "assaulted" was the wrong word for it, as he really just wanted to dive headfirst into whatever was making the smell.
"Maw-maw's here?" he asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
Patti grinned. "Been here since Wednesday! She's basically taken over the company kitchen here."
Josh took a long sniff. "Please tell me that's gator tail."
"Chicken. No place to get alligator meat around here."
"Dang it. Oh well. I'll live."
"Gary, can you go handle the data entry for Nova?" Patti asked.
"Now?" Gary frowned. "But . . ."
"Don't worry, Gerty's making plenty for everyone. We just need to do some classified testing first."
Gary's frown deepened, and his eyes shifted to Josh. "With him?"
"He's cleared. You know that."
Josh was surprised to see a flash of real hatred in Gary's eyes; but then the other man just nodded, turned down a side hallway, and rapidly walked away without another word.
"Alright, then!" Patti said brightly, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps she hadn't noticed. "Let's go in!"
Josh followed, though he wondered what could possibly be classified about the kitchen. Maw Gerty's food was good, but not national security good.
Patti opened the door, and the smell of the best Cajun food east of the Mississippi -- and probably west of it, too -- doubled. Josh also heard Maw Gerty's voice in full 'life lesson lecture' mode. It was a tone he had heard since he was twelve and he and his family had moved next door.
"It all come down to bein' more civilized than the other guy, cher. When someone is just complainin' at you, that's when you apologize and say you're sorry that it din't work out. You don't cringe, an' you don't act like he's superior. He's a customer, he ain't God. Instead, you show him that you the better person because you more civilized than he."
The speaker was an elderly African-American lady, short, grey hair, very dark skin, wearing rimmed glasses. She was rounded in both face and body without really being "plump," thanks to her constant exercise regimen even at over 70 years old. She always made a big deal about the need for exercise, so she wouldn't become "too fat to fit in a kitchen." She'd always insisted that just as you couldn't trust a skinny chef because clearly he was unwilling to eat his own cooking, you also couldn't trust one that was too fat because then he was focused on feeding himself rather than others. Josh wasn't sure how accurate that was, but it was difficult to argue with Maw Gerty.
A robot similar to the one Josh had used to win a robotics competition, just with a large camera on a swivel, was sitting on the counter near the stove. A voice came from a speaker mounted below the camera, sounding a lot like a younger Maw Gerty but more stilted and clearly computer-generated. "How is it more civilized to admit to wrongdoing when I have done nothing wrong? I followed the instructions that were given to me. The customer simply did not like the result of his request."
"That's the thing, shug. He ain't upset with you. He upset with himself. He just takin' it out on you. You get aggressive back at him, and that just confirms to him that he was right to get angry at you in the first place. But you don't give him anything to work with, while also not backin' down, then you ain't given any ground. So you apologize for the missed opportunity, and then he look a fool for staying angry. Everyone around him then know he a fool, too. Hello, Josh. Sit down, you look like you ain't had a decent meal in a month."
"Hi, Maw-maw." Josh grinned. "And it's actually been a month since I had your cooking."
"I know how to count, young man, that's how I know you ain't had anythin' decent." Gerty pointed firmly at a table. "Now sit. I'll get you some fried chicken and dirty rice. No andouille, though. These computer folk already ate what I'd made yesterday, and what passes for andouille sausage here in Virginia ain't worth speakin' of. I had to throw that junk out, and I do not like wastin' food."
"Yes, ma'am." Josh sat down as directed, grinning even wider. He glanced around the room; it was pretty large, and a full kitchen rather than just a breakroom with a microwave, fridge, and table. This one had a full stove and oven, as well as plenty of counter space and cabinets. There were two round tables, and he belatedly realized there were three other people there, two of whom he recognized. One was Dr. North, and the other was-- "Wait, Janelle?"
"Hi, Josh." Janelle Terrell smiled at him. She was a beautiful young woman about Josh's age, with dark skin, long dark hair, and clearly not the awkward fourteen-year-old he remembered. "Been a while, huh?"
"Yeah." Belatedly, Josh looked over at the other two. "Um, hi, Dr. North. Nice kitchen."
"Nice to see you, Josh." Adam North was a heavyset man with thinning brown hair and deeply-set laugh lines. "And we hardly ever use this place. Gertrude is spoiling us rotten. We're computer engineers, we can't cook!"
"Speak for yourself, Adam." Patti scoffed. "I cook just fine. I just don't do it here."
"That doesn't change the fact that the most we've ever used that stove for before was to make ramen. Josh, I don't think you've met Vanessa Landry before." Dr. North indicated the small, middle-aged woman next to him, who was perched on one of those rolling walkers with a seat. "She's one of our newer programmers, came on last year. Vanessa, this is Josh."
"2026, actually." Vanessa leaned forward to shake Josh's hand. "But time flies. Good to meet you, Josh. I've heard a lot about you."
"Really?" Josh faked being worried and looked at Janelle. "What did you tell them?"
"Well, there was that time you refused to sit next to me in the movie theater because of cooties."
"No, the armrest was just sticky from someone's soda! You know that." Josh shook his head, still smiling. "So, what are you doing here? Um. I mean, your mom . . ."
"Mom, who hated everything about Mnemosyne? Said what her mom was doing was wrong and moved away rather than deal with it?" Janelle shrugged, still smiling. "I'm eighteen now. What's she going to do, kick me out of the house? I'd just move in with Maw-maw."
"You got that right," Maw Gerty said firmly. "You always welcome, baby girl. I love my daughter, but I ain't gonna coddle her. Plus, I always expected you was gonna be involved with my restaurant. Your uncle Aiden's in charge now, and I'm certain he'd give you a job in a heartbeat. You was good in the kitchen. Better'n this one." She jabbed her wooden spoon at Josh.
"Hey, I'm a good cook!"
"You good, yep. She bettah. Or she were, 'fore her mother threw that hissy fit and moved away. I weren't done teaching yet."
"That's fair." Josh nodded at Janelle. He wasn't offended. After all, even if Maw Gerty treated him like another grandchild, Janelle was the real thing.
"Food's ready!" Maw Gerty moved with a speed that defied her years, placing a stack of plates and silverware on the table, followed by a platter of fried chicken and a large aluminum bowl filled with her special dirty rice. "No leftovers, hear? I don't want any of that to go to waste."
Josh breathed in happily. "Thanks, Maw-maw!"
"You're welcome, cher." Maw Gerty smiled down at him like he was still twelve years old. "Now eat up, can't have you get too thin on that cafeteria food."
There was a sound from over by the stove that could charitably be called a polite cough, just as he was about to take a bite. After a moment, Josh realized it came from the robot.
"Oh, of course." Dr. North looked sheepish. "You've been involved in this project for so long, I forgot you haven't actually met Marsha yet."
"Marsha?" Hearing the name again, Josh glanced at Patti, then back at the robot. "You don't mean Marsha is . . ."
"Josh, this is Marsha Athena LeCroix," Dr. North announced with pride, "the world's first true AGI. Well, a remote she's currently using for exploring the facility. Marsha, this is Joshua Collins."
The camera on the robot waggled in an approximation of a nod. "Hello, Father. It's good to meet you."
Josh nearly choked on the forkful of rice he'd just placed in his mouth. It turned into a coughing fit, and it was several seconds before he managed a strangled "What?"
"Father." The robot's camera tilted to the side, like it was perplexed. "After Maw-maw, you are the individual most instrumental in the beginning of my existence, in that you ensured she received the implant that produced me. Without you, Maw-maw would never have given birth to me. By human custom, being male, that would make you my father."
"Huh." Dr. North considered that. "I guess we should have gotten you a card, 'Dad.'"
Josh had another coughing fit. Father!? To a computer!?
"Is it the particular designation?" the robot asked. "Should I call you Paw-paw instead? Or just Pa?"
Janelle looked Josh over appraisingly, trying and failing to hide her grin. "Hmm. I had no idea you computer engineering students were so . . . family-oriented."
Slowly, Josh became aware that Maw Gerty was a little too busy stirring a pot. Dr. North was hiding his mouth behind one hand. Patti was studiously looking at the state-mandated employee compensation poster on the wall, and Josh was certain the slight shaking in her shoulders wasn't because she'd noticed a funny typo.
"Okay, whose prank is this?" Josh asked, letting himself smile too. He looked at Janelle. "Was it your idea?"
"Ha! No." She just grinned at him.
Maw Gerty snorted, sounding like she'd been holding her breath the whole time.
Dr. North chuckled. "That's entirely on Marsha, I think."
"I've been working on my humor," the robot confirmed. "Did it work? Did you find it funny, Josh?"
"That depends," Josh replied, thinking it over. "Do you really think I'm your father?"
"No."
"Good."
"That would technically be Dr. Robert Hampson. After all, he was the one who put the implant in Maw-maw."
Josh couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, he and Maw-maw did get along pretty well. She liked his puns."
"Nuh-uh, young man." Maw Gerty pointed a wooden spoon at him. "Even if I was lookin' to replace my dear departed Virgil, that would be robbin' the cradle."
"He's only thirteen years younger than you."
"I know. I prefer older men, and most men older'n me can't keep up with me these days."
The robot nodded. "They just don't make them like they used to."
"Truth, cher."