Felicity 1.0
by Larry L. Richardson
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
In Stan’s tiny Stanford apartment were carefully packed cartons of robotic arms and hands, legs and feet. There was a torso chassis, and in a box by itself a head, without skin, its lifeless eyes staring from their sockets. Margo and I carried the boxes downstairs and loaded them into the van. Last to go was a box no larger than fifteen centimeters square and perhaps five centimeters deep. He carried this out himself. As we got into the van, he cradled this small box in his lap.
“Whatcha got there?” Margo asked.
He opened the box and lifted out a square of supple polymer. “It looks like the material used for skin on some of the high-end servbots,” I said.
“Well, it is,” Stan replied. “But it’s more than that. Over the past two years, I’ve developed a way to embed in the skin material carbon nanotubes coiled around electrodynamic ceramic polymer filaments. An electric current causes the filaments to shorten, compressing the nanotubes like springs. Cut the current and the nanotubes push the filaments back to their original length.” Stan saw my surprised expression. “Artificial muscles?” I asked. He smiled and nodded.
“Stan, that is amazing!” Margo said. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?”
“It was just in my last few days at Stanford that I got the electrodynamic skin to work,” he answered. “It’s taken two years to find the right compound for the filaments. Then I wasn’t really certain I could get the nanotubes coiled just right.”
During the hour-long drive back to the house outside Brookdale, we chatted about the possibilities of Stan’s android skin. This was a crucial development, Margo pointed out. It could make possible convincing emotive facial expressions, she noted. “How much of your skin can you make?” I asked Stan.
“To make a useful amount,” he replied, “I’d need a well-equipped lab.”
“Such as one Mannix Corporation could provide?” Margo asked.
We got back to the house late in the afternoon. The place was unfurnished, and we had been camping in the living room, sleeping on the carpeted floor in makeshift sleeping bags. None of us had ever been camping before, and for the time being we thought roughing it was fun. We gathered dry twigs and fallen branches from the pines across the road and built a fire in the fireplace and cooked hotdogs for supper that evening.
We were sitting cross-legged on the hearth, skewered wieners sizzling and dripping grease onto the burning wood. “Did I ever tell you,” Stan said to me, “that I told my parents about you and what you were working on in grad school?” I said I didn’t recall him mentioning this. “I was surprised,” he continued, “when they said they were really bothered by the idea of androids that showed emotion. They’re okay with servbots, but the creation of androids with emotional responses crosses the line, they say.”
“I think people have legitimate concerns,” Margo said. “Emotions are reflections of our values, what we hold dear, what we like and dislike, and what we fear. Our values are things that develop and evolve with changes in our lives. Different cultures have different values, so the question is whose values would a noetic android’s emotions reflect?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I’m not a philosopher, but my gut feeling is society can, on the whole, figure this out. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is an important question. I just think we as a society don’t have to fear progress.”
“I agree,” Margo said. “I’m just saying that there will be segments of society that will view noetics as something that blurs the line between human and machine. I mean, look, some people really hate servbots because they have replaced human workers in a number of fields. How much more would people hate it if noetic androids replaced humans in purely social settings?”
“Well, we already have companion bots,” Stan said. “Society hasn’t fussed too much about those.”
“Well, yeah,” I said, “but companion bots aren’t very convincing in terms of replicating a human being. On the other hand, noetics could display both emotive responses and the subtle facial expressions that would make them seem almost human. Some people could see, probably will see, noetics as a real threat to humanity.”
“Hey, I think these dogs are about done,” Margo said. “We got the buns here, the mustard, pickle relish, and — oh, yeah — we got the sauerkraut.”
Stan and I had no trouble refocusing our attention on the food. But I saw in Margo’s face that her mind was still turning over the points of our discussion.
When we finished eating, Stan scooted over to his bedroll, pushed earbuds into his ears, and settled in for an evening of playing online games, which was his favorite pastime. Margo and I sat together before the fire, putting on pieces of wood to keep the blaze going. She told me a bit about her childhood, that her father was a preacher, and her brother was enrolled in a seminary. She told me that after undergrad school she felt an urge to change her life, to be her own person instead of the person her father wanted her to be. She said she made some fundamental changes in herself, changes her father and brother refused to accept. They hadn’t spoken with her in two years.
Margo was so open with herself that I felt free to share with her some of my life, too. I told her I came from an affluent family, but my parents were emotionally distant. As a child, I never experienced a warm, loving family environment. I was emotionally insecure, which may be the reason I was a bedwetter until I was ten years old. When I told her this, I saw a bit of a smile on her face. “Aw,” I said, “I think you’re laughing at me.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth. Then she laughed out loud, just a bit. Her face reddened and she said, “Now I’m laughing because you’re accusing me of laughing at you.” She seemed so sweet at that moment, innocent of any mean thought, and I laughed, too. She put her hand on my cheek and said smiling, “Your secrets are safe with me.”
* * *
In less than a week, Mannix sent us emails offering positions with the company. At the appointed day and time, we reported to a small conference room in the Mannix headquarters building where a number of people had already gathered including Nagasaki and two other top corporate managers. Just inside the doorway Nagasaki’s geisha serbots tended a lavish buffet table spread with both American and Japanese delicacies.
I was standing with my back to the conference room door, facing Stan, while Margo stood next to me, her right arm lightly brushing against my left arm. There were other small clusters of people here and there around the room, snacking on macaroons and other things and drinking green tea. I don’t recall what Stan was saying at that moment, but he stopped talking in mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide. “Oh gawd,” he murmured.
“Why, Stanley Rubricki. What a surprise to see you here.”
I spun around. “Max,” SueAnn cooed. She stepped up, put a hand around the back of my head, and leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the mouth, after which she took a step back and asked who was the woman standing next to me.
By instinct, perhaps, or unconsciously Margo’s right hand slid up and took hold above my elbow. “I’m Margo Cassidy,” she said. “I’m a specialist in android psychology.”
“Cassidy,” SueAnn replied. “I recall there was a boy in some of my undergrad classes, Mark Cassidy. He was about your height and...” — she paused for a moment — “he could pass for your brother, I think. You have brothers, Margo?”
SueAnn didn’t wait for an answer because she really didn’t care whether Margo had brothers. Instead, she leaned toward me again and said in a low voice, “We’ll have to catch up later, darling.” Of course, Margo heard this, as SueAnn intended.
When SueAnn walked away, Margo said, “So, you and she were close friends?”
“We, uh...” I was searching for the right words. “I helped her with a couple of grad course projects.”
Margo looked me in the eyes and said, “She must have been grateful for your attention.”
Felicity — now SueAnn — Moriarty and I had a relationship, but were not in love. I helped her academically, and she expressed her appreciation in bed. It was just sex, nothing more than that. And it was not a subject I wanted to discuss with Margo, so I was relieved when Nagasaki tinked a spoon against the side of a glass tumbler to catch everyone’s attention.
“Please take a seat,” he said. After the room was quiet, he continued. “Welcome to all. We have gathered you together, some having been a part of the Mannix family for several years, some hired when our Brookdale headquarters was completed just two years ago, and for some of you this is your first day as a Mannix associate.”
He went on to describe in length the Quasimodo program and the way noetic androids would change society. He did not mention the money aspect of this pursuit, how many tens of billions in revenue Mannix would pull in from noetic android sales. He did not mention bonuses we, the Mannix associates, could receive. He did not mention the revenue sharing, or the stock options. He mentioned none of this, but I’m sure this was in the back of every person’s mind.
“Mannix has decided to add a new project to its R&D department,” he said. “This project will parallel our Quasimodo program and will incorporate a new team which will work on our noetics research. The name of this effort is The Felicity Project.”
The conference room erupted, everyone talking at once. I was named head of the project’s OS creation, Margo the android psychology consultant, and Stan the head of hardware development. Several Mannix staff members were moved from the Quasimodo project to the Felicity project, primarily to act as Stan’s assistants. SueAnn was assigned to the Quasimodo team.
Again Nagasaki tapped a spoon against the glass tumbler. “Quiet down, please,” he said in a loud voice. “Even though the Quasimodo team has several months head start, the company board of directors has asked that both teams present a prototype noetic android in thirty days.”
Again the room erupted. Someone shouted, “It can’t be done!”
I leaned over to Stan and asked, “Can we do this?”
“If we work day and night, maybe,” he responded.
I turned to Margo. “What do you think?” I asked.
“It may take our every waking minute to do,” she said, “but, yeah, I think we can do it.”
Four Mannix staff members came over and introduced themselves. Agatha, Berry, Gayle, and Gilbert were experienced roboticists. We were glad to have them on board, especially Stan who was feeling a bit desperate regarding the short time frame we were given.
The Quasimodo team shuffled out a door on the far side of the room, SueAnn trailing by a few steps. Suddenly, she stopped, turned, and looked back in my direction. Seeing this, Margo turned toward me, took my chin in her hand, turned my face to her and pressed her lips hard against mine. She then drew back and shot a sideways look in SueAnn’s direction.
SueAnn refused to acknowledge, her face remaining expressionless as she turned her back to us and followed her team out of the conference room. But the kiss had taken me totally by surprise.
* * *
The Mannix staff took us to our work area. The space, which we called our shop, had a half-dozen computers with large-format monitors, some with dual or even triple monitors. Long, broad tables were there for Stan to assemble our android. He nodded his approval. Mannix could provide android body parts, but Stan wanted to use the body parts he’d brought from Stanford. Margo and I agreed.
We got right to it. Stan supervised the Mannix roboticists’ assembly of the torso and limbs. He simultaneously put together the equipment to create the electrodynamic skin. He worked round the clock, having brought in a cot on which he slept, sometimes for just a few hours before returning to his work in the middle of the night.
Initially, I planned to adapt the noetic android OS that I’d created in grad school. Several times a day Margo and I consulted with Stan regarding the interface and control of the android body, but also of the complexity of the droid’s facial features. This was crucial. Get it right and the droid would communicate and show expressions that would seem very natural and very human. Get it wrong and Felicity would not be appreciably better than a servbot. We had to get it right.
As days passed, what was challenging became daunting, and then impossible. One night near the end of the second week, Margo and I were at home, lying together in front of the fireplace. “The OS isn’t going to work,” I said.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’ll have to go to Nagasaki and explain the situation,” I replied. “Maybe I’m just not up to the challenge,” I moaned.
Margo pulled me close, comforting me with the warmth of her body. “Maybe you’ve been trying too hard. Try to sleep.” But I didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep. I brainstormed all night.
The next day the SUV drove us into Brookdale, Margo holding my hand but saying nothing. I knew she could see it in my face. I felt defeated.
When we got to the Mannix building, she went to the shop while I took the vacuum tube to the tenth floor. Seated in Nagasaki’s outer office, I looked up to see a geisha approaching me. “Mr. Nagasaki will see you in a few minutes, Mr. March.”
Nagasaki listened patiently while I explained the situation. When I finished talking, he got up from his desk, and stood before a wide window that overlooked the city. His back was to me as he spoke. “What would it take to overcome this obstacle?” he asked.
“To achieve the leap from servbots to noetic androids would require....” I began, then stopped mid-sentence.
“Mannix wants this to happen,” he said. “I want this to happen. The noetic android’s time has come. Whatever is needed to make this happen, Mannix will find a way to fulfill that need.”
“The computers we are working with now don’t have the capacity or speed we need. The algorithms are too complex. To make this work, we need to get our hands on a small quantum computer, one that would fit the space inside an android’s head,” I said.
“Hmmm, those are hard to come by,” he replied. “I’ll see what I can do about this.”
I left Nagasaki and went to the shop. Stan and his assistants were like bees buzzing over their android body. I wrestled with the idea of telling them the bad news. Perhaps, I thought, it would be better to wait and see whether Nagasaki could arrange something.
* * *
Copyright © 2022 by Larry L. Richardson
