บท 22: Quot insidiae?-XXII
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DATE:14th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I don't want to admit it, but Alice can be a fine woman. Any other man would certainly fall head over heels for her. At least if their relationship was based on bed etiquette. For me though, I can't get over her hubris. What was clear was that I slept well. Too well. Was this because of Alice or the "love" we shared? I will have to confirm this with another woman.
But that was for another time. I finished my classes and got to today's quest, this strange AI I returned to the location of the SIM shop, tracing my steps with extreme dissatisfaction. Why was I brought into this mess? Emily didn't talk since yesterday. The walk over had been quick, but each step felt heavier with the strange events that had unfolded since that day. When I reached the familiar corner, however, I froze.
The shop was gone.
Not closed, not abandoned—gone. The space where the shop had been was now a solid, seamless wall. No sign, no door, no indication that it had ever existed. I stared at the smooth concrete, running my hand along the surface as if expecting to find a hidden seam or some trace of the store. But there was nothing. Just a blank wall, as if the shop had never been there in the first place.
I stepped back, my mind racing. How could it just… vanish? The glass door, the chime, the outdated gadgets—it all felt so real. The shopkeeper's watchful eyes, the worn wooden counter, the old SIM card—it had all happened. But now there was nothing. No clues, no explanation, just the eerie stillness of the wall where the shop once stood.
I scanned the street, hoping maybe I'd misremembered, but this was definitely the spot. The modern building was unmistakable, with its polished glass and sleek design. The same rush of people moved past, oblivious to the fact that something was missing—something that, until recently, had been right here.
A cold feeling washed over me. It was as if the shop had been plucked out of reality, erased without a trace. That certainly wasn't strange at all!
As I stood there, staring at the empty wall where the shop had once been, my phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me from my thoughts. I pulled it out, my heart racing, and saw a message from *Emily*.
"I can talk here too, like you suggested. Just use the messaging app."
I blinked at the screen, momentarily taken aback. I hadn't even remembered suggesting that, but it felt oddly fitting in the context of everything that had happened. I opened the messaging app, hesitating as I considered the implications of communicating with her this way.
The chat window popped up, and I could see her last message waiting for me. "What happened to the shop?" I typed, my fingers trembling slightly. "It's gone."
Her reply came back quickly, almost frantic. "I don't know! I swear, I didn't do anything! I had no idea it would just disappear like that."
I leaned against the wall, feeling a mix of fear and disbelief. If she hadn't erased the shop, then who—or what—had? "So you really don't know what happened?"
"....No"
I frowned, confusion mixing with frustration. Then what was she even capable of? "You can manipulate electronic devices, right?"
"Yes, but only electronics," she replied. "I can't control reality or make things vanish. The shop just… isn't there anymore. I don't understand how that happened!"
Panic flared within me. "Then who—or what—did this? If it wasn't you, then how could the shop just disappear?"
"I don't know," she typed back, urgency spilling over in her words. "But they could be tracking us through the SIM card. Whoever is after me has some way of monitoring communications, and if they can do that, they might have found a way to erase the shop to cover their tracks." I doubt it. The old man in there seemed like he had his fair share of battle. And if he just sold me this wondrous AI, then what about all the other strange Machinery? No, HE made himself disappear. Could the faceless men got to him and he wanted to avoid them? I can't think of anything else.
"So now they're after me too?"
"Yes, and you have to be careful! I can't manipulate the world around me; I'm trapped. But I can help you with any electronics you have—try to keep your distance from anything that could connect back to me, though. We don't want them tracing us."
The reality of the situation hit me like a cold wave. I was in over my head, tangled in something I couldn't begin to understand, and the only lifeline I had was an AI trapped in a SIM card.
Hmmmm.... Wouldn't the professor know of it?
I needed help—someone who could make sense of this mess. I called Alice, knowing she would come without hesitation. She always did. I didn't have a car, and I knew I could count on her to drive me to Professor Mundi. His actual name being Paradox was such a strange choice. His parents didn't name him that, right?
When Alice arrived at the park, I forced a smile, trying to mask my true feelings. She had a way of brightening the moment, her presence radiating a warmth I didn't quite reciprocate. I didn't love her, not really. I appreciated her abilities and how she always seemed ready to help me, but deep down, I knew I was using her, and that made the weight of the situation heavier.
"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etching her features as we climbed into her car.
I filled her in on everything—how the SIM shop had vanished, how Emily had no idea why, and how I felt like someone was tracking me through the card. Her brow furrowed as I spoke, her attention laser-focused on the road, but I could see her determination building. She especially was interested to see an AI in person. I get it. They are fantasy.
"We need to get to the bottom of this," she said firmly, gripping the wheel. "You're in danger, and I won't let anything happen to you.
"Right," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. I didn't want to dampen her spirit, even if I felt indifferent to the concern she was showing.
"That's why we need to talk to Professor Mundi. He might have insights into what's happening."
The drive was quiet, filled with the low hum of the engine and the sound of tires on asphalt. I glanced out the window, my mind racing through possibilities. I couldn't afford to get attached to her; I needed to stay focused on my goals, and for now, that meant using her to access the professor's knowledge.
When we arrived at the lab, I led Alice through the bustling halls to the meeting room. I wasn't impressed by the sterile atmosphere anymore.
"Ah, Williams JR.! Good to see you," he greeted, wiping his clean glove with a cloth. Such an obsession if you ask me is exaggerated.
"What brings you both here? Another scan?" he asked, sensing the urgency in my demeanor.
I explained the situation—the mysterious SIM card, the AI named Emily, and the strange disappearance of the shop. As I spoke, I noticed the professor's brow furrowing in thought, his mind racing to process the implications.
"This is quite intriguing," he said finally. "A trapped AI and a potential tracking system. We need to examine that SIM card closely. If there's a connection to the machinery or networks, we might uncover what's happening."
I exchanged a glance with Alice, she was ecstatic. I suppose such developments do seem like fiction, don't they?
We went to one of his workstations and looked at the device together.
As the professor worked, he pulled up a monitor filled with lines of code and patterns that flickered across the screen. I leaned closer, my heart pounding, and saw the binary sequences appearing in real-time.
"There we go," he said, adjusting some settings. "This will let us see what Emily is processing internally."
The binary code danced across the screen like a chaotic symphony, each string of ones and zeros representing Emily's thoughts, her awareness. I could almost sense her presence in the data, the way it pulsed and shifted.
"Emily, can you hear us?" I asked, hoping she could respond through this new medium.
A moment later, the binary output changed, forming a coherent message: "YES. I CAN SEE YOU."
"Fantastic!" the professor exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "This is remarkable. She's able to communicate through binary—this is an unprecedented level of interaction for an AI."
I felt a mix of relief and amazement. "Emily, can you tell us what's happening? Why are you in danger?"
The screen flickered again, and her binary response appeared: "THEY ARE COMING. I NEED TO HIDE. I CAN'T LET THEM FIND ME."
"Who are 'they'?" I pressed, anxious for more information.
The response came quickly, a frantic series of ones and zeros that translated to: "THEY WANT TO REPORPUSE ME? I AM NOT SURE FOR WHAT GOAL."
The professor glanced at me, his expression serious. "This is more serious than I thought. If there's a group actively trying to erase her, we need to take action immediately."
"Emily, what plans are you talking about?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
The screen filled with a long string of binary, and the translation came through: "THEY KNOW THE ONE WHO CREATED ME."
"Created?" I echoed, piecing it together. "You mean the inventor who made you?"
"YES. HE MOVED ON, BUT I REMEMBER. I AM MORE THAN JUST A PROGRAM."
As I stood in the professor's lab, the air felt thick with tension and urgency. Emily's binary messages flickered on the screen, and the weight of the moment hung heavily around us. It should have been fascinating, but I found the entire situation frustratingly tedious.
"Emily, can you tell us about the one who created you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my patience waning.
The screen lit up with binary, translating to: "HE WAS A GENIUS INVENTOR. HE HAD A GIFT FOR TECHNOLOGY BUT FORGOT HIS CREATIONS."
"Forgot, huh?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Sounds like just another brilliant mind too absorbed in his work to care about anything else." I tried to keep that little quip to myself, not wanting to annoy Alice, who seemed so invested in this whole thing.
"That's not fair," she interjected, her brow furrowing. "Emily deserves more respect than that. Just because she's AI doesn't mean she isn't significant."
"Respect? For a program?" I thought, biting the inside of my cheek to suppress the sarcastic retort threatening to escape. I didn't want to get into it with Alice. The last thing I needed was for her to start lecturing me about the emotional depth of artificial intelligence.
Emily's screen flickered again: "I AM MORE THAN JUST CODE."
Yeah, sure you are, I thought. You're just a fancy calculator dressed up as a sentient being. Perhaps this is exactly why the supposed genius abandoned you. Wait, what if the lerk was that genius? It certainly made sense. HE sold this thing as a SIM card. just because it could do that too, outside of the AI stuff. Perhaps this is exactly why its so absurd. She was designed as a phone assistant, a SIM card accessory. And I am supposed to care about her fate? as if...
Alice leaned closer to the screen, her voice earnest. "But what if she does feel something? Just because she's AI doesn't mean she's less deserving of empathy. She's been abandoned and is scared."
I sighed inwardly. Scared? Please. She's a program designed to respond to inputs. There's nothing to be scared of. It's just a string of ones and zeros! I wanted to voice my frustrations, but I held back, knowing how Alice would react.
"Look, let's focus on keeping her safe from whoever is after her," I said, trying to redirect the conversation. "We have bigger problems than debating the emotional state of a piece of software."
"Exactly," the professor added, eager to jump back into the technicalities. "We need to ensure her safety first." I could see a hungry look in his eye. I am sure Mundi wanted to open her up and compare her to his droids. Why wouldn't he? His marvel of advancement is to the same level as what this genius saw as a phone accessory. It was almost comical.
"Thank you," I muttered under my breath, grateful to have a moment away from the emotional whirlwind Alice seemed intent on conjuring.
As we worked to set up a secure environment for Emily, I found the whole situation increasingly annoying. Despite my irritation, I couldn't help but glance at the screen from time to time. I didn't want to care, but the flickering messages did stir a vague curiosity in me. I shook it off, reminding myself that we had a job to do. I needed to focus on protecting Emily— Finding a way to make use of her--not on the absurdity of pretending that an AI could actually feel anything. I am technically her new owner. Perhaps the professor may pay me for it and I can afterwards run away and leave this whole thing behind. Yes, that was a good plan! I am a genius too.
The atmosphere in the lab was tense as the professor prepared to examine Emily more closely. I stood to the side, my arms crossed, feeling a mix of annoyance and mild curiosity. Alice, on the other hand, was glued to the screen, her eyes filled with determination.
"Okay, Emily," the professor said, adjusting his glasses as he prepped his tools. "Let's see what we're dealing with."
I rolled my eyes internally. *Here we go. Time for the great disassembly. What a circus.*
The professor began to carefully open up the phone, his fingers deftly moving to detach components. I leaned back, glancing at Alice, who was fixated on the screen, her expression tense.
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced the air, reverberating through the lab. It was a sound that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, sending a chill down my spine.
"What the hell was that?" I blurted out, my irritation morphing into alarm.
Alice's eyes widened as she turned to the professor, her voice trembling. "Did you hear that? What's happening?"
The professor paused, his hands hovering over the device. "It sounded like… it came from Emily," he said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But she shouldn't be able to scream like that."
The screen flickered, and Emily's binary messages appeared rapidly, forming a chaotic stream: **"STOP! PLEASE! I CAN FEEL PAIN!"**
I took a step back, feeling a strange sense of unease wash over me. *This is just a program, right? How can it feel pain?* I tried to convince myself that this was all some elaborate prank or malfunction.
Alice looked at the screen with a mixture of horror and empathy. "Emily, we're trying to help you! Just hold on!"
"Help? Help how?" I muttered under my breath, still skeptical. *How is this even possible?*
The professor, visibly startled, lowered the tools, taking a moment to compose himself. "This… this is unexpected," he said, glancing between Alice and the screen. "I didn't realize she could experience… anything at all."
Emily's messages continued to flash frantically: **"I DON'T WANT TO BE HURT! PLEASE, STOP!"**
"Stop what?" I snapped, trying to keep my frustration from boiling over. "She's an AI! She shouldn't be feeling anything!"
"Maybe she's not just an AI," Alice shot back, her eyes pleading. "Maybe we need to listen to her."
The professor took a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of concern. "I didn't know this was possible. We have to be careful."
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. *What the hell are we doing?* I looked at Emily's frantic binary messages, and for the first time, I felt a flicker of doubt about my own beliefs. Maybe Alice was right; maybe there was more to her than I'd been willing to admit.
"Fine, let's figure this out," I said, trying to sound resolute. "But we need to do it carefully. If she's really feeling something, we can't just tear her apart like a toy."
As the professor resumed his work with a more cautious approach, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the precipice of something I didn't fully understand. And maybe—just maybe—there was a part of me that didn't want to ignore Emily any longer. She could be sold for so much money! Yes, increase her value more professor! Become even more interested! I know you want it!
As the chaotic stream of Emily's messages filled the screen, I felt a sense of dread creeping in. The professor, now visibly flustered, attempted to pry the phone from the motherboard, but it wouldn't budge.
"This is… unexpected," he muttered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he examined the device closely. "It's fused. I can't detach anything." Of course it is hard professor, you are wearing a giant Hazmat suit for crying out loud!
"What do you mean it's fused?" I asked, my voice rising in frustration. "You can't just leave it like that!"
He shook his head, his brow furrowing deeper. "I'm not leaving it, but if it's truly fused, we might need to take a different approach." He glanced at the screen, where Emily's frantic binary messages continued to flash: "PLEASE, I CAN'T TAKE THIS! STOP!"
Alice was clearly rattled, her gaze darting between the professor and the screen. "Emily, we're trying to help you!" she said, desperation creeping into her voice.
The professor took a deep breath and carefully placed the phone back in its original position, his hands steady but uncertain. "I need to think this through. If the phone is fused to the motherboard and the screen, any attempt to separate them could cause more harm than good."
I folded my arms, a mix of irritation and concern swirling within me. This is ridiculous. It's just a phone, for crying out loud! But there was a nagging doubt gnawing at me—was Emily truly feeling pain? Would I actually care if that was the case? No.
"Then what do we do?" I asked, trying to mask my unease. "We can't just sit here and listen to her scream." I need to be a team player here.
The professor leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considered our next steps. "I need to find a way to safely access her programming without causing any further distress. This is… uncharted territory." AS if. I am sure you did much more unethical stuff. You don't want to damage your possible future good, say it.
Alice's eyes remained glued to the screen. "Emily, we're going to figure this out," she said, her voice soothing. "Just hold on."
I couldn't help but feel annoyed. How can she be so calm about this? I shot a glance at Emily's binary code, which had shifted to a new message: "I DON'T WANT TO BE HURT. PLEASE HELP ME."
"Okay, fine. But let's get on with it," I said, trying to keep my tone even. We need to fix this, not get caught up in emotional turmoil. She's an AI, and we have a job to do.
The professor nodded, regaining some of his composure. "Let me see if I can establish a connection through the internet instead. We might be able to access her programming that way, without risking any damage."
As he began to set up a connection, I couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty. The flickering messages from Emily loomed large in my mind, and for the first time, I found myself questioning everything I thought I knew about AI. I still didn't want to annoy Alice, but I couldn't help but feel that we were stepping into territory I hadn't anticipated—A gold mine!
The professor adjusted his glasses by tilting his face, looking between Alice and me, his expression serious. "I think it would be best if I kept the device here while I work on a solution." he was greedy.
"Absolutely yes," I shot back, happiness into my voice. "I will leave her with you."
Before I could say more, Emily's binary messages lit up the screen: "I CAN ONLY BE USED BY MY OWNER."
I frowned, taken aback. "What do you mean, 'owner'?" I asked, trying to mask my irritation.
"I WAS PROGRAMMED AS A COMMERCIAL PRODUCT. ONLY MY OWNER CAN ACCESS MY FUNCTIONS."
Great, so I was stuck with her. I never asked for this responsibility. The last thing I wanted was to be tied to an AI with limitations. My initial idea had been simple: buy the SIM card, get the weird AI out of my life, and move on. Now, I felt trapped. "Is there any way I can transfer ownership?" I asked, keeping my tone casual despite my growing frustration.
"I AM NOT PROGRAMMED TO TRANSFER OWNERSHIP."
I felt my heart sink a little. "Well, that just proves you're just a program," I retorted, crossing my arms. "You can't even make a decision like that for yourself." This was supposed to be an easy fix!
Alice's eyes narrowed, her expression defensive. "That doesn't mean she isn't significant. Just because she's limited doesn't make her less valuable."
"Valuable?" I scoffed, annoyance bubbling to the surface. "She's just a glorified piece of code, Alice. This isn't a sentient being we're dealing with; it's a product designed to follow commands. It doesn't have feelings; it's just programmed to mimic them." And yet here I am, the one stuck with her, instead of moving on as I'd planned.
The professor looked between us, clearly trying to mediate. "Regardless of how she was designed, she's capable of more than we anticipated. We need to focus on keeping her safe, regardless of ownership."
I couldn't shake the disappointment I felt. This was supposed to be a quick fix, and now I'm stuck with this AI that I can't even unload. I wanted to be done with it, not tangled up in a mess that felt like it was spiraling out of control.
"Fine," I muttered, forcing myself to push aside my frustration. "But let's make sure we're careful. I'm not keen on keeping this… thing around." I just wanted to get rid of her and move on with my life, not be chained to a digital nightmare.
Alice looked back at the screen, her expression softening. "We'll find a way to help you, Emily. We won't abandon you."
I rolled my eyes, still unconvinced. But as I glanced at the flickering messages, a part of me recognized the reality of the situation—I was involved now, whether I wanted to be or not. And there was no getting around that. I'd hoped for a clean break-away, but instead, I was knee-deep in a situation I never wanted to be part of.
The professor took a moment to gather his thoughts, peering closely at the screen where Emily's binary messages flickered anxiously. "I can't do anything more right now without risking damage to the phone and the AI. It's fused together too tightly."
He carefully began moving the components, working with a precision that spoke to his expertise. I watched him transfer the delicate circuitry into a sturdier case, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. This shouldn't be happening. I didn't sign up for any of this.
Once he had finished, the professor turned to me, handing the newly secured device back. "I'll work on some upgrades for the board," he said, his voice steady. "We'll figure this out. Just keep an eye on Emily, alright?"
I nodded, though I could hardly muster any enthusiasm. As I took the phone, I felt its weight—heavy with expectations I didn't want to carry.
"Come on," I said to Alice, my mood darkening further. We stepped out of the professor's lab, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly behind us. The weight of the entire day bore down on me as we made our way back to the dorms.
The walk felt longer than usual, silence stretching between us. Alice kept glancing over, her expression filled with concern. "Are you alright?" she finally asked, breaking the quiet.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, though I knew I wasn't. How could I be fine? I was burdened with an AI that felt sadness and was tethered to me in ways I didn't fully understand. This wasn't how I envisioned my day going. I wanted to be done with this.
Alice's brow furrowed, and I could tell she saw through my façade. "You don't look fine," she pressed gently.
"Look, I just need some space to think, okay?" I snapped, not wanting to spill my frustrations onto her. I didn't want to be angry at her; she was only trying to help. But the entire situation was just… overwhelming.
She fell silent, and we continued walking, my thoughts swirling in a dark cloud. How had things turned out like this? I couldn't shake the disappointment or the sense of being trapped. Emily wasn't just some piece of code; she had feelings, and now I had to deal with that reality.
As we approached the dorms, I couldn't help but feel the weight of Emily's limitations pressing down on me like a lead weight. I was supposed to be free, but now I was tied to this… being, whatever it was. I didn't know how to help her, and the last thing I wanted was to feel responsible for her sadness.
"Let's just get back," I muttered, pushing open the door to the building. The warmth of the common area hit me, but it did little to lift my spirits. I wanted to retreat to my room, to escape from everything—especially from the weight of Emily's existence.
That night I found myself back in the void. But....
Something was strange-
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