Read TimeShift Page 33


  chapter 32

  TEAM 3, YEAR: 2095

  Time Remaining: 133 Days

  Since assuming Jim’s position, both ends of Spencer’s candle burned like raging infernos. The one-month period of donor brainwave collection had ended and Spencer’s attention now focused on preparing the mountains of data. Once each donor’s data was properly formatted, it could be compiled into a Personality Application. And when all twenty-two personality applications were created, Spencer would need to verify the emotional balance and health of each personality. To do this, he would use a program called the Real Life Simulator. This program would run each of the personality applications through a gauntlet of true-to-life situations. The scenarios were designed to provoke and push each personality to their breaking points to ensure the reactions were acceptable by social norms.

  The situations for testing would be chosen by Ian, and programmed by Spencer and his team. Although Spencer had not yet received them, he knew the testing scenarios that Ian was going to provide him would be feeble and unchallenging, having seen them when he completed this project the first time. He knew he would have to add many more scenarios to the Real Life Simulator, and this made him nervous. He would have to justify his changes to Ian without blowing his Operation TimeShift agenda. Spencer anticipated significant pushback from him on this. Ian would see any proposed amendments as questioning his judgement, which to be fair was true, though not unjustly.

  This testing phase was one of the key milestones that would ensure the success of Operation TimeShift. The lack of thorough testing the first time was the reason robots were tearing the city apart in 2097. Spencer could not, would not, let history repeat itself. He knew that if more rigorous scenarios were added to the testing phase, the robots would fail, proving they were unsafe. Modifications would then need to be made to cut out the unhealthy aspects of each personality. It was these minor corrections to the personality programming that would rewrite the robots’ destruction in 2097. Spencer had no choice but to get through to Ian or Operation TimeShift would undoubtedly fail.

  Kalen was the life preserver keeping Spencer afloat. Without her help, he knew he would be drowning. Between formatting the personality data, covering Jim’s administrative duties and masking his TimeShift agenda, Spencer’s life was hectic. Thankfully, he could easily disguise his work on the operation as diligence in his job, so nothing he did appeared out of the ordinary to anyone he worked with. Yet.

  Kalen slid into Spencer’s office and seated herself in a chair opposite his desk. She found him in the exact position she had left him in—over ten hours earlier—staring intently at his screen. She was concerned about his excessive workload, which was showing no signs of letting up. His tan had faded and he rarely deviated from his route to and from the office.

  “Look what I have.” She held up a data drive—a transparent grey rectangle of plastic no thicker than a small stick of chewing gum. She knew this little delivery would make him happy; it was all he had talked about for weeks.

  Spencer’s face lit up. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Kalen tossed him the drive and it sailed through the hovering screen. Spencer caught it and plugged it into his CI.

  “I’ve come up with a list of really intriguing scenarios to add to Ian’s list.”

  Kalen looked at Spencer with confusion. “Why would you create a list of scenarios when you don’t even know what Ian’s are?”

  Spencer froze, worried that he may have said too much. It was so hard for him to keep what he knew of the future from his co-workers. “Oh, well, I don’t, obviously. But these are pretty unique…” Spencer ran his hand through his hair. “Well, no better way to find out than to look. Let’s find out.”

  A box appeared at the front of the three-dimensional screen showing different file names listed. The icon labeled “Personality Application Testing Data” flashed and the document opened up on the screen. As he scrolled through the document, Spencer read through the list of scenarios for him to program into the Real Life Simulator. As he expected, they were the same as they had been the first time—few in number and lacking depth.

  Ensuring the robots behaved in a predictable, socially acceptable manner was more than just a matter of safety. The robots’ behaviour and values needed to reflect those of the average human for the integration of the two species to be successful. If the robots’ behaviour or values deviated too far from what society as a whole deemed as acceptable, they would not be perceived as equals, merely machines. If a robot enjoyed kicking puppies, it would be outcast the same way a human would be. If the robots behaved happily in situations where a human would not, the robots would seem artificial, like programmed objects. The robots needed to experience the right amount of the proper emotions at appropriate times for humans to accept them as equals.

  “Hmmm.” Spencer scrolled back to the top of the document and re-read the table of contents.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Kalen.

  “None of these tests seem overly taxing.” He pointed to a section in the table of contents. Some of the test titles included Being overcharged at a store, Being cut off in line, and Co-worker has a baby.

  “Running the personalities through these testing scenarios will test basic emotions well, such as happiness, sadness and anger to some degree, but there’s nothing here that is stressful enough to test complex emotions like jealousy, rage, guilt or fear.”

  Kalen read the titles more thoroughly. “I see your point. That could be a problem. We need to know how much stress a personality can handle before it snaps.” She sat down again. “What are you going to do?”

  “I guess I’ll bring it up with Ian.” Spencer leaned back in his chair and stretched. “But first I want to thoroughly analyze this document and have some suggestions ready.”

  “I guess you were right to be proactive about those extra testing scenarios,” said Kalen.

  Time Remaining: 132 Days

  “Ian, I need to talk to you about the Personality Application testing scenarios I received.” Spencer’s stomach cinched upward with dread. He knew Ian would not take his suggestions objectively; the Project Director would see Spencer’s ideas as criticisms of his brainchild.

  “Sure, kid, what’s up?” Ian greeted his wonder kid enthusiastically. Ian liked Spencer. The kid was brilliant, no doubt about it, and he knew that in a few years when he told people that he had personally mentored Spencer Grayson through the AEI Project, they would be impressed. He motioned for his young protégé to take a seat in one of the hovering chairs opposite his desk. As Spencer sat, the chair adjusted itself to the perfect height for the length of Spencer’s legs. Ian sat, leaned back casually in his leather executive chair and clasped his hands behind his head.

  As usual, Ian looked like he had stepped off the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. He wore a trendy, black houndstooth sports coat with the sleeves rolled up. Beneath the jacket, he wore a fitted black t-shirt with some obscure graphic art printed on it. Through the glass desk, he saw Ian’s dark navy jeans and black alligator shoes. Nestled in his shaggy, salt and pepper hair, were a pair of Ray-Bans, which Spencer had never actually seen him use for their intended purpose. He perpetually wore a day’s worth of stubble that, when teamed with the age lines on his face, projected an air of experience and absolute confidence. The coup-de-gras, his hundred-watt smile was both a tool and a weapon; he frequently used it for both—to end an argument or close a pitch.

  “I’ve come up with some additional scenarios that I think would be good to add to the Real Life Simulator test. I mean, the ones you had made were good, well, they seem good enough on the surface…” Spencer felt his nerves kick into overdrive. Pull it together Spence, he thought. He cleared his throat. “What I mean is, what’s there is good for testing basic emotions, but I don’t believe that they’re stressful enough to really get a good feel for how the personalities will handle the more complex, negative emotions. If we don’t see what happens to the pe
rsonalities after they’ve exceeded their breaking point, we can’t truly know how the robots will behave in stressful situations.”

  “Interesting,” said Ian. He unclasped his hands from behind his head, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the glass desk. “You’re aware that I consulted extensively with some of the top psychologists in this country for this? And that these professionals, at the top in their fields, felt these would be more than adequate?” He spoke slowly and Spencer heard more than a hint of condescension.

  “Uh, yes, I am aware of that, sir,” he stammered. Spencer felt his resolve beginning to crumble. He knew that this was Ian’s intention, and he hated that it was working. Neither of the twins would ever be intimidated by anyone.

  Hearing submission in Spencer’s voice, Ian leaned back in his chair again and smiled; his voice once again became cheery and pompous. “We need to keep things lean Spencer; money and time are tight. There’s no point digging too deep for problems that just aren’t going to be there. This project is infallible, kid. I’ve got it all planned out. We’re all going to go down in history as the people who changed robotic intelligence forever. Well, maybe some of us more than others, I did come up with the idea after all. But, there’s plenty of room at the top. I know that with your brain, you’ll soon be up here with us corner-office elite.”

  “While I agree it’s unlikely there’ll be issues, I don’t think that spending additional time on testing is unwarranted,” said Spencer. “We’re ahead of schedule and I don’t mind working on it in the evenings if I have to.”

  Ian’s lips smiled though his eyes did not. “Thank you for your generous offer Spencer, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  In Ian’s tone, Spencer detected an unmistakable warning to leave things well enough alone. He knew he was pushing his luck by persisting, but he had no choice. This very conversation with Ian could impact the success of Operation TimeShift. He needed Ian to see it his way so he could change the tests and prove the robots were unsafe so they could be fixed. “These robots are going to experience social situations far more complex and socially intricate than what’s in these tests, and I don’t think it hurts to make sure those reactions fall within social norms.”

  “Spencer,” said Ian. His eyes became as cold and dark as the rain pounding the corner office window at his back. “Are you saying that you don’t think I have the public’s safety in mind?”

  “No, of course not. I just think that it doesn’t hurt to be extra cautious.”

  “Do you not agree with the way I’m running this project, Spencer?”

  “No Ian, that’s not the case at all, you know that. If I could just supplement your test with some additional scenarios, I think it will help with the public’s reception of the robots. If everyone knows the robots have been tested exhaustively, the time it takes for people to warm up to the robots will be much less.” Spencer handed Ian a thirty-page printed document. “Take a look at these. I’ve drafted some additional scenarios and it won’t add too much time. I think it’s absolutely critical…”

  Ian snatched the document from Spencer and tossed it on his desk without a glance. “Spencer, you’ve done a bang-up job on this project. Your division is on track and you’re doing the jobs of two people. I’m very impressed. Please don’t make me think I’ve got the wrong impression about you.” Ian walked to the door and held it open. Spencer knew nothing productive could come from talking further. As he walked away, he heard Ian’s shred bot through the closed door.

  Spencer fumed through his lunch. All of the things he should have said to Ian popped into his mind after the fact, as usual. The sole purpose of his and the twin’s journey back to 2095 was to change the project and Spencer knew that getting buy-in from Ian would ensure success. But if Ian failed to respond to logic or reason, he became the liability that the three brothers anticipated he would. Spencer would have to work around him, which meant more work after hours.

  When Spencer announced he was leaving early, his co-workers assumed he had food-poisoning. In his office, he made a copy of Ian’s testing data. As the files copied, his mind wandered to the repercussions he would face if caught. Copying data from the NRD was the equivalent of stealing trade secrets. It was a one-way ticket to unemployment to be sure, likely accompanied by jail time. Spencer thought about the past version of himself travelling through Europe. If I get myself fired I know I’ll never forgive myself.

  This marked the first time he had violated a policy—other than conspiracy—for the sake of the mission. When planning this op all those months ago, he had wondered how it would feel to blatantly work against the NRD. Would he feel a guilty justification, or remorseful? Perhaps powerful in some way? Now that it happened, he only felt anger at Ian’s ego.

  While predictable, Ian’s reaction complicated Spencer’s job considerably. Any work he did beyond Ian’s instructions directly violated Ian and by extension, the NRD. He would need to find a way to keep his work hidden and off the NRD’s Nexus server space, where it would inevitably be discovered.

  Spencer walked briskly to his car, needing to put as much distance between himself and the office as possible. As he strode through the parking garage, he sent a text message to his brothers requesting they meet later to discuss the new developments. As he approached his car, mentally dictating his message to Asher, he heard his car door unlock. He sent the message and it disappeared from his vision. He opened his driver’s door and a hand shot out in front of him, slamming the door shut again. Livid and looking for any excuse to unload his anger, he turned expecting to see one of the twins.

  “I am not in the mood right now for…” Spencer froze, stunned by who he saw.

  “Trust me, Spencer, this is no joke,” said Ian.

  Ian shoved Spencer backward against his car and leaned in close. The mad glint in Ian’s eyes was out of character and made him look unhinged and unpredictable. Spencer had never seen Ian like this before. He would probably have been scared for his well-being if he had not been so confused.

  “Back off the testing if you know what’s good for you.” Ian’s voice, although quiet, carried a deadly tone. He seemed distracted, more skittish than ever, and he made no effort to veil his threats, verbally or physically.

  Ian’s aggression stunned Spencer, but what confused him more was how disheveled the Project Director looked. His clothes were rumpled; one of his jacket sleeves was rolled down and there was dirt on his pants like he had been crawling around on a dusty floor. His jacket looked different than the one he wore earlier, though Spencer could not be certain. But he was absolutely certain that Ian did not have a purple rose in his lapel at their meeting just hours ago. Spencer’s anger outweighed his confusion and any questions were quickly forgotten. The nervousness he had felt in Ian’s presence earlier had vanished, now replaced with anger and something like recklessness or daring. He regained his balance and stood his full height.

  “What are you talking about, Ian? What the hell happened to you?”

  Ian leaned in close to Spencer’s face and spoke again. “This is my project and no corporate ladder-climbing little punk, genius or not, is going to derail it. Just back the hell off.” Ian smiled his broad, dimpled smile then turned and jogged through the door to the stairwell.

  “So, you’re telling me that even though Ian told you that the testing criteria was good enough and then physically threatening you in the parking garage, you’re going to alter it anyway?” Kalen shook her head as she pulled the cork from a bottle of wine. She took two wine glasses from Spencer’s cupboard and poured.

  “I’m not altering it per se, I’m just adding to it. I’ll add what I think needs to be added and then show him. He can’t deny simple logic. People’s lives could be at stake. Once it’s done and he sees it, he’ll really have no choice but to go along with it.” Spencer looked down at the string beans sautéing in the frying pan and gave them a stir. He knew already that Ian would not see his logic, but that was someth
ing he would worry about later.

  “He’s not going to be happy about that,” said Kalen, shaking her head. She sipped her wine and held the other glass out to Spencer.

  Spencer sighed. “I know. It’ll be tricky. I’ll talk to him alone again to give him the chance to make the right decision. If I don’t make any headway with him, I’ll address it at a director’s meeting, that way he can’t dismiss what I’m saying so quickly.” Spencer took a sip of his wine before setting the glass on the counter beside the stove.

  “I don’t know, Spence. That could blow up in your face. Crossing Ian in front of the directors could be a bad career move.” She watched him absent-mindedly flip each bean individually, lost in thought. Spencer’s dedication to his job was one of the qualities she admired most about him. But in this instance, she wondered if he was overzealous. His insistence that Ian’s testing data was grievously flawed bordered on obsession. She agreed that the proposed tests seemed insufficient, but if psychologists developed them, surely they would know what scenarios would best capture the broadest range of behaviour? It was unclear to her why Spencer fought so vehemently about the testing when the people at the top had no concerns. In addition, Spencer was never one to disobey a direct order, even if he disagreed with it. His recent behaviour seemed out of character for him, and she felt as though a piece of information was missing. However, he had just taken over Jim’s position as a director and undoubtedly that role came with additional responsibilities and high-level knowledge he could not discuss with her. No matter the issue, she trusted his judgment and supported him.

  “I don’t really see what other choice I have. At least this way I’ll have witnesses who are hopefully objective and may agree with me.”

  “Or, you could just do what he wants,” said Kalen.

  He laid the spatula across the frying pan and picked up his wine. He shook his head. “I can’t Kale. I have to make this right, otherwise, how can I live with myself? What if some of the personalities have defects? What if one of them is a psychopath? That personality will be put into thousands of robots. It’s reckless and dangerous to not do thorough testing. What if people got hurt?”

  Kalen hugged him tightly. “You raise very sensible points, Spence. Logic like that should be hard to ignore. But remember, at the end of the day the outcome is on Ian’s shoulders.”

  Spencer could not tear his eyes away from the beautiful, caring woman who supported him unconditionally. He knew he must sound like an obsessed lunatic, harping on and on about testing and problems that were only hypothetical. He held her tightly and rested his head on hers.

  Kalen pressed the AUTO button on the stove controls. The beans began moving around in the pan as if prodded by an invisible spatula. She lowered the temperature, placed the lid on the pan, then led Spencer out of the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?” Spencer pulled his hand away and bent down to look inside the lit oven. “The roast is done, we’re going to dry it out.”

  Kalen smiled at him and shook her head slowly. “Shut up Spence,” she whispered, then kissed him. She took his hand in hers and led him to the living room. She pushed him down on the couch and pulled her hair out of her ponytail. Her wavy hair fell around her shoulders as she undid the top few buttons on his shirt. He grabbed her hand, kissed it and then pulled her down on top of him.

  When the twins met at Spencer’s condo later that evening, they were stunned to hear about Spencer’s encounter with Ian in the parkade. Spencer felt heartened to see his brothers so outraged on his behalf. They all knew Ian to be many things—self-righteous, condescending and arrogant—but none of the brothers could imagine him aggressively accosting an employee. The behaviour seemed out of his character, even for him.

  The productivity of the brother’s meeting surprised Spencer. He expected the twins to be their usual, goof-off selves, leaving him to babysit them while solving his own problems. Instead, they impressed him with their attention and support. For the first time in his life, Spencer felt like they were working toward something as equals; each person offering suggestions and unique perspectives.

  The twins were not surprised to learn that Ian remained unmoved by Spencer’s logic and sympathized with their little brother because they knew it meant he would have to do his job twice. During the day, he would program the Real Life Simulator with Ian’s feeble testing scenarios. At night, he would have to program a second test, this one with far more numerous and much more complicated situations. When complete, he would run the personalities through his more realistic scenarios, then present the results to Ian and the other directors.

  Doing this work twice brought to light a new set of obstacles. The amount of space required to store the second set of the personality applications, the Real Life Simulator program, the test itself and the programs needed to complete the actual work, was substantial. He would be caught in an instant if he stored the files on the NRD Nexus server and his personal space in the cloud was nowhere near large enough. Asher devised a brilliant solution; however, it would take him and Logan weeks to source what they would need, plus time to implement it.

  Finally, the brothers discussed the actual moment of the timeshift. For their mission to be successful, the entire project direction needed to shift in favour of Spencer’s modifications. Getting Ian on board with this would have made the moment of the timeshift much easier, as he could have made an announcement to the stakeholders. Instead, Spencer would need to devise a way to simultaneously convince the directors and countless stakeholders that modified personalities would still be considered “true” AEI and do all of this covertly, with Ian being none the wiser.

  Logan suggested Spencer organize a demonstration for the NRD board and stakeholders, promising a preview of a functioning Personality Application in a robot. Spencer knew Ian would jump at this idea; it was an opportunity to put him and his beloved project in the spotlight. At the last minute, Spencer would switch the robot’s personality with one of the modified, safe personalities and use the meeting as a platform to explain the modifications. Spencer loved the idea; he knew all of the stakeholders were anxious to get a sneak preview. If Spencer kept his speech on schedule, he could have all of his points made by seven o’clock, and all of the stakeholders would see his logic, shifting their paradigms at the moment of the timeshift. Once Ian saw the buy-in from the stakeholders, he would have no choice but to go along with it. While there was no love lost between Ian and Spencer, Spencer would have preferred getting Ian on board beforehand. Having Ian’s support in advance of the presentation would add more credibility to his presentation.

  “So I’ll let you know when I’ve figured out how to accomplish that,” said Spencer wearily. “As you know, Ian won’t listen to logic.”

  “Well, if logic doesn’t work that leaves quick wit, persistence or force,” said Logan.

  “And you’re not quick-witted,” said Asher, looking at his little brother with a smile, “so that leaves persistence and force. We know you’re persistent but not very forceful.”

  Spencer knew that, so far, persistence had done nothing for him either.