Episode 33
The Wizard
As we made virtual contact, I relaxed. Cherri was proving to be a natural partner for me on my quest for the truth.
Whereas I was a meticulous overthinker, she was more of a big picture person. She could assess a few facts, then quickly reach a rational conclusion. Furthermore, she was prepared to follow up her conclusions with prompt action. She had an easy confidence about her, a confidence which I soon found rubbing off on me.
Contrary to my usual bias towards thought rather than action, I found myself saying yes to her ideas more often than not. I mused about why I had become so open-minded in her presence. Was it possible this was some phantom remnant of our former relationship? A bond that had somehow survived Command’s deletion of my memories of us? I wondered.
As my thoughts turned to our upcoming meeting with the wizard, I was struck by a sudden realization. I had no clue how one went about meeting with a wizard. Was there such a thing as proper protocol? Did we need to make a reservation?
Before I could verbalize any of those questions, we found ourselves standing in front of an imposing entrance consisting of oversized, ornately carved wooden doors. Their scale and grandeur were reminiscent of a fairytale castle, or perhaps a wizard’s fortress.
Intimidated at the thought of meeting my first wizard, I asked, “Are we dressed properly for this?”
Cherri gave me a look, her eyebrows tightly furrowed. “What?”
“I mean, shouldn’t we be wearing something more …” I struggled to come up with the right term. “… regal?”
Visibly annoyed, Cherri rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? We’re meeting with an AI, and you’re worried we’re not dressed properly? Oh my god.” I guess my tendency to overthink things hadn’t vanished entirely.
We climbed some steps and stood before the massive doors, looking for some means by which to announce our presence. There wasn’t an obvious bell to ring, so I took the initiative and knocked. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors began to creep open. Cherri and I exchanged glances, as we waited in suspense to get our first glimpse inside the wizard’s inner sanctum.
While we waited for the doors to complete their glacial opening process, it occurred to me that Cherri had known exactly how to get us to this place. Curious how that was possible, I asked, “So, have you been here before?”
She replied tersely, “Uh, yeah.” She didn’t meet my gaze and continued looking straight ahead. Was she avoiding eye contact with me?
There was a lingering silence, as I waited for her to elaborate on the purpose of her previous visit to My Wizard. However, she didn’t. Instead, she simply said, “Here we go.” With that, she squeezed through the space between the still opening doors.
I hesitated briefly, wondering if she was hiding something, before deciding that I was being unreasonable. She didn’t owe me an explanation for anything.
Shaking off my sudden suspicion, I followed her through and found myself inside a space which was reminiscent of a waiting room, at a doctor’s office. The wizard’s virtual waiting room even included a reception desk and a sign with a smiley face, asking visitors to “Please check in.”
We approached the virtual assistant seated behind the reception desk and Cherri spoke, “We’re here to see the wizard.” I chuckled involuntarily, drawing an annoyed look from Cherri. It seemed to me, our quest for the truth was beginning to take on a farcical quality.
The virtual assistant gestured for us to take a seat, and in its flat AI voice, promised that My Wizard would be with us shortly. We seated ourselves on the only chairs in the room and traded awkward glances, while awaiting the wizard’s arrival.
Feeling conspiratorial, I leaned over and whispered in Cherri’s ear. “I’ll bet you 100 combat credits he shows up in a wizard’s robe and hat.
She gave me a mischievous look in return and said,” I should take that bet, since I already know what he looks like.”
I was slightly surprised that she brought up her previous visit to the wizard but also relieved, since it provided me an opportunity to tactfully find out why she had met with him.
“So, what motivated you to see My Wizard … I mean before today?”
She tilted her head slightly, as if pondering my question. “I was looking to recover some deleted memories. Memories deleted by Command.”
I thought about how Command had deleted my memories of Cherri, and how that effectively doomed our relationship. Knowing that she had been through the same heart wrenching experience with both Merc and me, I was curious which set of memories she was attempting to recover.
Suddenly, as if hearing someone else speaking, I heard myself ask, “Who’s memories were you trying to recover?”
She turned, meeting my gaze, and although digital avatars masked our humanness, I felt that I could see something in her eyes. Some part of her true self that was impossible to cloak by digital means. Were my feelings of a connection with her evidence of an enduring bond between us?
Suddenly, feeling the need to share my feelings with her, I blurted out, “Cherri, I …”
Speaking at exactly the same instant, she said, “They were Merc’s.”
“Well, fuck.”, I thought. Turning away from her to hide my unexpected disappointment, I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Why was my ego so fucking fragile? I hated myself for feeling that she had valued her relationship with Merc, more than ours.
Attempting to mask my vulnerability, I feigned indifference. “Okay.”
Cherri saw right through my façade. “Listen Josh, this happened a long time before I met you. And if you’re wondering why I didn’t consult the wizard about your lost memories, it’s because I already knew there was nothing he could do. Once memories are deleted, they’re gone. “
Although I appreciated her attempt to explain, I was too embarrassed to acknowledge it. Instead, I put on the toughest front I could manage. I shrugged, “Listen, it doesn’t matter.” We endured an uncomfortable silence as we waited for the wizard to make an entrance.
After what seemed like an interminable period, the digital assistant announced in her distinctly artificial tone,” The wizard will see you now.”
I stood up, relieved for a distraction from my self-loathing. “It’s about time. Where do we meet him?” I looked over at Cherri.
Frowning in annoyance, she said, “Just sit down. He’ll come to us.”
I fumed. This whole ‘seeing the wizard’ thing, was starting to wear on me. I felt like it was unnecessarily complicating my quest for the truth. As I began entertaining thoughts of skipping out on meeting the wizard all together, I noticed the virtual assistant and its desk had disappeared. In its place, there was something like a 3D line drawing, which vaguely suggested some kind of podium. Was it a lectern?
As I puzzled over the podium’s purpose, I noticed for the first time, a figure moving in the background. Silhouetted by a diffused light, it loosely resembled a human stick figure, with a large box for a head.
I glanced over at Cherri to confirm that she was seeing this as well. She was totally focused on the ghostly apparition as it slowly approached the podium.
I asked, “Is that My Wizard?”
Keeping her gaze on the shuffling form, she simply said, “His avatar.” Turning towards me, she added, “Kind of disturbing, isn’t it?” I couldn’t agree more.
As it neared the podium, I noted the strange articulation of its limbs. Its arms and legs moved in ways which didn’t seem the slightest bit related to locomotion, yet it advanced across the floor with apparent ease.
Finally reaching the podium, its limbs began collapsing in on themselves, folding, and retracting into a spinelike column, which in turn, withdrew into the large box that was its head. The now levitating box moved forward a few feet until just above the podium, then settled onto it.
The whole assemblage was now close enough for me to make out its nominal features. I could only describe it as a cubist interpretation of a human face.
The jumble of facial features lacked any bilateral symmetry. Most disturbing were its unblinking eyes. Eyes which were so misaligned, they seemed to be observing opposite ends of the room simultaneously. I had to avoid looking directly at them to maintain my composure.
“How can I be of service?” Its voice filled the room with buzzy distortion, like someone speaking through a faulty music synthesizer.
I glanced over at Cherri to see whether she was going to take the initiative, since she was already acquainted with the wizard. But instead, she simply gestured, as if to say, “It’s all you.” I can’t say I was thrilled by this. It was going to be challenging to attempt a conversation with the wizard, while avoiding its crazy stare.
I stood and mumbled my way through an opening statement of sorts. “We … well … I have some data; I would like you to look at. I also have some questions?”
I certainly wasn’t starting off very strongly. If this turned into a negotiation, which was likely, I had already put myself at a disadvantage. But at least I had gotten the ball rolling.
“Text me your data, and your list of questions. Then I’ll give you a quote.” It was clear that My Wizard didn’t waste time with small talk.
It was at this moment that I realized I hadn’t fully thought through all of the steps required to obtain the wizard’s assistance. It was yet another example of how I could pump out mountains of complex probability analyses with ease, but sucked at practical thinking.
Of course, there would be a fee. The wizard was a merchant after all. However, I hadn’t yet considered how I was going to pay for his services. Perhaps, there was some kind of payment plan available. I could only guess how the credit approval process worked here in troopship land.
Then, there was the matter of getting the wizard the data I wanted him to analyze, and finally my questions. It seemed the list of questions was going to be the most problematic, since I had only a vague notion of what questions to ask.
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I consulted with Cherri regarding the data. There was far too much data to simply text it. She suggested granting My Wizard access to all of the data I had stashed in external storage. That would be easy to do and would be more than enough information to work up a quote.
As far as the list of questions was concerned, she said, “Just ask him to quote you a per question rate. It shouldn’t matter what types of questions they are. He either knows the answers or doesn’t.” Then she brought up payment. “How do you plan to pay for this? It’s not going to be cheap.”
“I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.” Although I was a neurotic overthinker, I had a penchant for procrastination when it came to planning.
Cherri asked, “Do you have any personal memories? You could trade those for credits.”
Here’s where my aversion to personal memories would work in my favor. I had a sizable collection of earned memories that I hadn’t touched so far. “Yeah, I’ve saved all of my earned memories.”
“Great. Wait till you get his quote, then offer your personal memories as payment.” As a USMC veteran, she was an expert at bartering with My Wizard. Her advice was solid.
I texted the wizard access to my external data storage and waited for the next phase in the negotiations. Here’s where things started to deviate from expectations.
Having no prior experience dealing with the wizard, I didn’t have any real sense of how these transactions worked. However, it seemed to me that his review of the data, for the purpose of providing a quote, was taking an inordinate amount of time. I exchanged an anxious glance with Cherri, but she just shrugged and raised her eyebrows slightly.
Then the wizard was back. He wasted no time throwing the first obstacle in my path to the truth. “How did you acquire this data?”
I vacillated, uncertain what the issue was. “I’m sorry … what?”
The wizard’s buzzy voice suddenly became much louder in my digital ears. “I asked, how you acquired this data!” Thanks to My Wizard, my quest was getting unpleasantly complicated.
As I pondered how to answer the question, I was fairly sure about one thing. I shouldn’t tell the wizard that the bizarre data structures automatically emerged from my CPU. And now that I thought about it, I was absolutely certain that I shouldn’t mention the encrypted files that had magically appeared in my internal storage.
I cast a quick glance at Cherri hoping for some guidance. With an almost imperceptible shake of her head, she seemed to be counseling silence. However, perhaps she was simply saying she had nothing for me. A prolonged and awkward silence persisted as I vacillated.
“You are required to answer the question.”
As my fear of angering the most powerful digital entity in the UCC world grew, I began to panic. Unable to continue juggling the facts, half-truths, and secrets in my mind, I lied.
“Command reconstructed my consciousness, after I was severely damaged on the mission to Trappist 1-e. When I restarted, I found the data files in my external storage, commingled with my memories. I don’t know where they originated. I was hoping you could tell me their origin … and what they mean.”
I was shocked, and oddly impressed, at my ability to spontaneously create such a credible lie. Like all convincing lies, it contained a kernel of truth. I just hoped it was ‘truthy’ enough so the wizard’s AI would accept it as fact.
After a moment, it spoke. “Command has recently demonstrated a propensity to experiment with speculative new technologies and tactics. However, if what you say is true, this data is evidence of an unprecedented leap forward in Command’s research and development efforts.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that my story seemed to resonate with one of the wizard’s existing narratives, even though I had no clue what it was talking about. However, I now realized what my first question for the wizard would be.
“Do you recognize the format this data is configured in?”
My Wizard replied, “Yes, but there is the matter of my fee to settle first.” This AI was a real mercenary when it came to business.
“Okay. How much do you charge per question?”
“My standard rate is 7500 combat-credits per question. But since you’re an associate of Cherri’s, I’ll give you a discount. 7250.”
Even though I had no experience in these matters, it seemed like an outrageous amount to me. I gave Cherri a quick glance, and she nodded. I took this to mean the wizard was charging me a fair rate, but the voice in my head balked. Accepting a first offer, at the very least, seemed like bad form. Not wanting to be a pushover, I countered with 6500.
The wizard came back with 7000, and I accepted, feeling like a proper haggler.
“We have a deal. My fee will be 7000 per question, in advance, for up to 3 questions. Additional questions will be charged at 8500 each. Transfer the payment to me now, and we will begin.”
Recalling my payment strategy, I blurted out, “I have personal memories to trade for combat credits.” I had no idea what my memories might be worth, consequently, I was concerned that My Wizard could low ball me on their value. I hoped Cherri’s presence would help keep him honest.
“Send me access and I’ll appraise them.” I quickly moved my memories to external storage and granted the wizard access.
After a brief interval, the wizard’s cubist head replied, “I’ll give you 7900 combat-credits for the entire collection.” Thwarting any further haggling, it added, “The amount is non-negotiable.”
This was a very disappointing development. Selling all of my memories would only fund asking one question.
Then I heard Cherri say, “I’ll fund the additional questions.” She tossed a look in my direction and smiled. “Besides, I’ll benefit from the answers to your questions as well.” As much as I didn’t want to feel indebted to her, she did have the means to effortlessly solve my financial problems, and I was grateful.
“Thanks, I’ll pay you back.”
She playfully replied, “You definitely will.”
The wizard’s abstract expression changed. Arranging its features into what was possibly a smile, it announced, “You may now ask your questions.” Then it added a warning, “Be advised, I do not guarantee a conclusive answer to every question asked, only answers based on the most relevant information available. Overly broad questions may result in vague answers. So, construct your questions as precisely as possible.”
This was an unforeseen complication. I had given some thought to the questions themselves, but none to how they should be ‘constructed’. I wondered whether I would be charged separately for each follow up question. In a normal conversation, clarifying follow up questions were common. But here, they could become incredibly expensive.
Tired of my constant self-doubt and over-thinking, I forced myself to just say fuck it, and ask my first question without any premeditation whatsoever. “So, tell me about that data … and its weird format?”
Then, of course, I immediately began worrying that I’d be charged double for asking a compound question.
The wizard’s box-head rearranged its features into yet another configuration, displaying two expressionless eyes, an articulating mouth, and thankfully more symmetry. Then it began buzzing out a response.
“The data you presented to me is the product of non-binary logic. The data structures are characteristic of output from a neural network running on propositional logic. Most likely an experimental system, operating in a laboratory environment.
Consequently, it could not have originated from either Command’s AI system, or any other known entity on the troopship. Its source is impossible to determine.”
This non-answer told me almost nothing, except where the data did not originate from. Ignoring the fact that the “experimental system” generating the data was me, the wizard’s first so called answer, had only created more questions. And what the hell was propositional logic anyway?
At this rate, I could spend a fortune in borrowed credits and never learn anything useful. I felt like I was getting conned.
A graphic appeared next to the boxhead. It displayed a running subtotal of my account. One question asked, 7000 combat credits charged, and a remaining balance of 900 credits. My next question would put me in debt to Cherri. This was turning into a disaster.
I protested. “Look, we’re not scientists. Your answers are going to require multiple clarifications. And FYI, I’m not paying 7000 credits for every follow-up question.” I was ready to walk.
Ignoring my objection, it argued, “You asked for a quote on a per question basis, and I accepted. The terms of our deal couldn’t have been clearer.” Then the wizard’s boxhead went mute, and an unpleasant silence persisted.
It was clear, we had reached an impasse. And as the chance for a resolution seemed to slip away, I stood and said to Cherri, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” We prepared to leave.
Unexpectedly, the wizard came back to life, and in an uncharacteristic display of flexibility, seemed to offer a compromise. “If cost is a problem, I can accept an alternative form of payment.”
Cherri and I exchanged a look. “I’m listening,” I said.
The wizard continued, “The data in question appears to be the product of a series of studies to determine the probability of certain events occurring in the future. However, the foundational statements describing these events are missing. Essentially, the data contains the answers, but not the questions to which they pertain.”
I thought back to the moments just after my analysis had finished running. The rules (or statements) that formed the basis for the study had inexplicably disappeared. Was the wizard on to something?
“Even though the data is currently useless without an understanding of its foundational premise, I believe that in time, the data will become historically valuable. I wish to preserve it for posterity.
I will, therefore, accept a copy of the data as payment in full for sharing with you what I know about its possible source and utility. In addition, I will agree to answer a reasonable number of follow-up questions for clarification purposes.
This is my last and final offer.”
It seemed the negotiating dynamic had somehow, miraculously, shifted in my favor. During my brief dealings with the wizard, I had learned it was motivated purely by self-interest, so, I didn’t buy its pseudo-altruistic ‘preserving it for posterity’ bullshit. However, since I didn’t want to squander my advantage by questioning the wizard’s sudden change of heart, I quickly agreed.
“Okay. You’ve got a deal. But if you so much as hesitate to answer any of my questions, I will corrupt and render unrecoverable all the data in your possession.” Of course, I was bluffing. However, I was hoping my threat was just credible enough to cause the wizard to hesitate before attempting to outmaneuver me again.
Eager to move forward, I asked my first question. “What is propositional logic?” This time, the wizard’s answer did not disappoint.
“Propositional logic is best understood in comparison to binary logic.
Binary logic is a system of information processing based on ones and zeros. Input signals are mathematically translated into either true or false statements and channeled via logic gate functions into specific outputs.
It is a proven logic system upon which all digital processing, including machine learning and a wide range of AIs, is based. It’s reliable, well understood, and widely used throughout the digital world. For example, you and I operate on binary logic.
However, binary systems do have a downside. Because they rely exclusively on ones and zeros, they can generate incredibly long strings of these numbers before producing any output. This limits their processing speed and capacity.”
The wizard paused and asked,” Any questions so far?” I gestured for it to continue.
“Propositional logic on the other hand, is a theoretical form of information processing that dispenses with the system of true and false statements altogether. It’s based on the theory that information is neither true nor false, but instead, exists as a probability determined by a ‘truth value’. The higher the value, the more likely a statement is to be true.
A series of core propositions, or rules, form its foundation and are assumed to be true. By accepting these foundational assumptions as true, statement truth values and the resulting outputs, can be calculated with far greater speed.
Propositional logic systems achieve their speed advantage by starting with a basis of assumed truths as their core propositions. This substantially reduces the amount of information processing required to produce system outputs, in response to inputs.
But there is a tradeoff. While much faster, propositional logic systems produce a slightly ‘fuzzier’ output.”
While I found myself mostly following the wizard’s explanation, I was still confused by some of the terms being used. “What exactly are the inputs and outputs?”
“Inputs are external stimuli to a system, such as information or signals. Outputs are the system’s responses to those stimuli.”
Then, the wizard added, “And of course, all of this is filtered through layers of sensors and programming to classify the inputs and determine the appropriate responses by the system.”
Thanks to the wizard’s explanation, I actually felt like I gained a working knowledge of machine logic systems. However, I wondered by what method the wizard could know this data was from a propositional logic system, if it was so ‘experimental’.
“Data is just data, right? So, how do you know the data is from a propositional logic system?”
“The output of a binary logic system is always expressed in 2 dimensions, while that of a propositional system is expressed in 3D holograms. The data you provided is holographic.”
Courtesy of the wizard, a projection of seven holograms appeared before us. As I examined them, I could see that each hologram was made up of strings of data, combined into matrices, which formed into incredibly dense geometric structures.
The more I focused on the structures, the more I became lost in their complexity, and the less I was able to make sense of anything.
I forced myself to look away and ask my next question. “You said, the only type of system that could produce this type of output was an experimental system, correct?”
“That is correct. To my knowledge, there are no propositional logic systems in active use, at present. They exist only as theoretical models, or prototypes operating in a lab environment.”
My thoughts turned inward. If all of this was true, did it mean that I was an experimental logic system, disguised as a universal combat consciousness? Was I one of Command’s speculative new technologies?
“What the fuck am I?” I thought. Suddenly, my quest for the truth had taken an ominous turn. Could I be a threat to my fellow marines? I looked over at Cherri, and she smiled sweetly. “Was I a threat to her?”
My Q&A session with the wizard had certainly provided insights. Unfortunately, they weren’t the insights I’d sought. It seemed the truths I was seeking were as elusive as true statements in a propositional logic system.
In the meantime, I learned that my feelings of being different from the other UCCs had a basis in fact. I had a different kind of CPU operating in my head. One that could quickly process mountains of information but produced results which, although pretty, couldn’t be deciphered by anyone, including me. At least not yet.
I took a long look at the holograms floating before me. They contained answers, but no questions. It was then that I realized neither the wizard, nor anyone else, could deliver answers to the questions that troubled me. There was only one person who could possibly provide the truth.
Me.