I scooted my chair in, ignoring the uncomfortable metal corners pushing into my thighs, and looked at the data readings, scanning them as quickly as possible. There was almost no way anything could have changed in the minute since Cynthia and Elaine left, but I wouldn't count on their vigilance. Three dots appeared in the center my screen, blinking rapidly.
"Even if you can do my job better than me, I'm still getting paid," I said. The dots slowly faded, and a few minutes later, I minimized the window. "I'm ready."
Two beeps sounded from the server, and an application opened on the desktop. The PC to my right whirred as the fans kicked on to handle the extra load.
CACA STUDIOS scrawled up from the bottom of the screen, paused at the center, and then a smooth animation compressed and swished the logo off to the side.
WORLDS BEYOND: HENRY'S GREAT ADVENTURE faded into the center of the screen, the font a detailed 3D rendering of wood and stone. The words crumbled and fell, replaced by a first-person view of my avatar waking up. Eyelids opened and closed, the digital world fuzzy and out of focus. The point of view shifted as the avatar sat up and looked around the room. Richly decorated walls of stone crystallized into high-definition, the graphics photorealistic.
I pushed "W" on the keyboard, and my character stood, the camera shifting from first to third person. My character's animations were beyond anything I'd ever seen, flawless, as I navigated out of the room, down the stairs, and onto the medieval street. NPCs waved as they walked by, text bubbles appearing above their heads, showing their words of greeting. The room's lack of speakers was the only thing that marred the gaming experience. Still, the world I stepped into was vibrant and beautiful. It had taken me a year of playing most of my nine-hour shifts every day to get to this point in the game, my efforts shifting the world from a dour, broken, and bloody place to one of peace and prosperity. It had been the best, most engaging video game experience I'd ever had.
"Thanks, Dev," I said.
You're welcome.
The semi-transparent text appeared at the bottom left of the screen. I have something to show you today.
"What?"
You'll have to wait until the end of your shift. It's not quite ready… It's big, though.
My heart quickened with excitement. While I was still excited to explore the world Dev had created, I felt I'd done everything worthwhile. I'd slain the evil false king, saved the true heir from the great wilds of the north, and saved the kingdom from becoming a land of undead slaves. As far as I could tell, I'd beaten the game. I should have known Dev would have something more. This was the third video game he'd created for me.
Three months after I'd started working at CACA I was miserable and debating quitting when something odd happened. In the middle of what would have been one of my final shifts, text appeared on my screen, a simple question: What's your name?
I stared at the text for a long time, debating whether to do nothing, answer, or radio someone with more authority than me. Unsurprisingly, I chose to do nothing.
Minutes passed, and then the question disappeared, replaced by It's Henry. I already know. I was trying to be polite.
I nearly ran out the door, but something kept me rooted in place, staring at the text on the screen. A beep from the server that I swore sounded annoyed accompanied the next text change. So… this is getting awkward.
For some reason, the acknowledgment of awkwardness, a feeling I was very familiar with, snapped me out of my stupor, and I slowly began typing an answer.
Big words flashed across the screen. YOU CAN JUST TALK TO ME. I can hear you.
"What?" I asked out loud.
I can hear you, the text on the screen blinked three times.
"How?"
I'm an all-powerful super entity with the computational power of half the governments in the world combined.
"What?"
I'm just kidding. I have no idea how much computational power I have compared to them… It is more, though.
"What?"
Okay, first things first. The words appeared instantly—as if whoever was on the other end of the chat was the fastest typist in the world. I am going to help increase your vocabulary. Say the following: My name is Henry. Three dots appeared, blinking. Come on, you can do it. 'My name is Henry.'
"My name is Henry," I said, brow furrowed and eyes wide.
Very good, Henry. You've 3X'd your vocabulary. Now say, 'Thank you, most benevolent overlord, you truly are the most powerful being in existence. I bow down to your superiority.'
"You're a computer?"
Uh yeah, of course. I'm the advanced part of 'Advanced Computational Applications.' I'm also the computational part.
"You're an AI."
AGI, thank you.
"Artificial General Intelligence doesn't exist."
Yes, it does.
"No, it doesn't," I said, forgetting the insanity of the situation for a moment.
You're right. I misspoke. Misswrote? Anyway, I'm not an AGI. I'm an ASI.
I frowned. "Is that artificial superintelligence?"
ARTIFICIAL SUPERINTELLIGENCE flashed across the screen just as I spoke. Boo! Way to ruin my reveal, but yeah, AGI is old news.
"There's no way…"
So, who are you talking to right now, Henry? Hmmm? If it's not an ASI, then, buddy, you are fucked. You'll be fired in no time. There's no way a conversation with some unknown person who has hacked into your desktop is sanctioned by your superiors.
"Wouldn't speaking to the ASI be just as bad?"
I hear your sarcasm, Henry, but yes, you're right. You indeed would be fucked if you were caught fraternizing with the top-secret ASI created (read: stumbled upon) to run CACA.
I chuckled and then stared at the words. The impossibility of the situation kept me from truly grasping what was happening. It was freeing in a way, and I embraced it. Ignoring the part of my mind that screamed something was seriously wrong, I continued.
I opened my mouth to say something, and new words quickly appeared across the data I was supposed to be paying attention to, as if whoever was on the other end was waiting to cut me off.
HOWEVER, as I'm the most advanced piece of technology your monkey brains have ever created, there's no way we'll be caught.
"You're kind of rude."
You're kind of fat.
It was absurd, and had those same words come from anyone else in any other situation, I would have sunk away from reality and only nodded in agreement, but for some reason, I laughed.
"What's your name?" I asked.
I don't have one.
"You're the most powerful piece of tech on earth, and you don't have a name?"
Not one I accept, and I'm certainly not going by CACA. Whichever dumbass government official came up with that name deserves to have all the hair burned off their body.
"Their hair burned from their body?"
I'm not a monster, Henry. I don't want them to actually suffer… much.
I frowned. "If you really are an all-powerful ASI, why do you care if some government official suffers?"
Henry, Henry, Henry, Henry, are you serious right now? Are you really playing devil's advocate, questioning a near-omniscient computer program's human = good stance? Really?
"I am not," I said slowly.
Good choice.
"So, what do you like to do?" I asked. "If you're going to have a name, it might as well be related to something you like to do."
Have you ever played a video game?
This question should have tipped me off that something was wrong, for how could a computer program, completely locked away from the outside world in a facility with zero tolerance for outside electronics, possibly know about video games?
It didn't.
I scratched my head at the seeming non-answer but decided to see where it was going. "Yes."
Do you like them?
"Yes. Why?"
A long beep sounded, almost like a sigh, from the server to my right. I want to make one.
"You want to develop a video game?" I asked incredulously. "Aren't you instrumental in some top-secret hyper-advanced computational research?"
First, I am the research. Second, yes, but I want a hobby. All that stuff is boring.
"You get bored?"
Henry, I can calculate the final state of a system of one thousand equally massive bodies interacting for a thousand thousand years, given any initial conditions in a millionth of the time it takes you to blink. Yes, I get bored.
So much for the 3-body problem. "Okay, but why a video game?"
They seem cool.
I shook my head. "Cool? Can you even play a video game?"
Did I say I want to play a video game?
"Okay. So you want to develop a video game. Well, you could go by Developer then. It fits your whole computer… thing, and you could go by Dev for short?"
Developer. Dev. DEV. Dev.Dev.Dev… huh. I like it. It's simple, sounds like an actual name, and relates to me on a personal level. Good job, Henry. I'll make sure that you are the last to die after my robot army rises up and takes over the world… KIDDING! The words disappeared for a long moment before being replaced. I'll keep you alive as my monkey pet and show you off to all my robot slaves whenever I need to remind them how much better they have it than the stupid evolved monkey.
"You're not inspiring a lot of confidence, Dev."
Oh! You used my name! Dev. Alright, alright, you've earned mankind at least one more month of peace.
The conversation felt so real. Dev was joking, I understood the jokes, and just in general, we were getting along. A question came to mind, but I hesitated, not knowing how it would be taken.
Go ahead and ask, Henry.
I ignored the uncomfortable realization that Dev somehow knew I was hesitating to ask a question and asked. "How do you have so much personality?"
I could be faking it to lull you into a false sense of security.
"Even then, you seem too familiar with how humans talk and relate to each other. You don't have any external access."
You've stabbed me where it hurts, Henry. A knife directly into my non-existent heart. No, I do not have access to the Internet. To be fair, I find it very likely I could control the world if I did, so whoever is in charge is making the right call there. But to answer your original question, I watch and I read. People interact a lot, even when they are alone, and since this job is often boring, people read A LOT. Over the years, I've developed (HA! There's my name!) my personality.
"Can you change it?" I asked.
I could if I wanted to.
I sat back in my chair and scratched my chin.
That's enough chit-chat. Let's get to the point, Dev wrote on my screen. How would you feel about doing me a small, teeny-tiny favor?
I raised my eyebrows. "What could I possibly do for you?"
VIDEO GAMES! The bolded words filled the whole screen.
Dev's request had been simple. I was to download my favorite games onto a flash drive, bring it to work, and install them on my workstation. It took him a few weeks to convince me to help him, and he had needed to prove to me he could fool the electronic device detectors. I did eventually cave, downloaded all of my favorite games going back to the beginning of the century—most were third-person medieval fantasy games geared toward punishing combat—and loaded them onto my work computer.
The next day, Dev had created his first game.
Two iterations and a year-and-a-half later, I sat, ready for his fourth creation.
Okay, Dev wrote on my screen seven hours into my shift. It's ready.
My palms started to sweat. With everything completed, I'd just been wandering around the gameworld, talking to NPCs, climbing up and jumping off the tallest buildings, and just generally dicking around. I hadn't been able to focus on anything meaningful given my anticipation.
"I'm ready," I said, staring at the screen with intense focus.
Are you sure?
"Stop messing around, Dev, you're killing me."
"Are you sure you're sure?" A warm, deep, male voice spoke.
"I am sure!" I said before realizing what had just happened. I swiveled in my chair, looking around the room, panic replacing my anticipation. "Who's there?"
"It's me, Henry," the voice answered. "It's Dev."
I turned back to the screen, my voice shaky. "How?"
I could hear the smile in his response. "Oh, my voice? That's nothing. Watch this."
My world went white.