David Simpson: Post-Human Trilogy

Interviewer: No time for debate in a democracy?

Morgan: Let me finish. The Turing test is the only agreed-upon test in which all parties agree that, when a computer passes it, that computer will have reached human levels in all respects. We won’t have any cognitive advantages over a machine like that—we’ll be demoted to the second-smartest species on the planet. Like the dolphins. Ask them how that worked out for them.

Interviewer: So your position is that the United States will unilaterally decide to ban artificial intelligence if you’re elected president?

Morgan: I never said that.

Interviewer: You said the United States should insist on a ban.

Morgan: We should.

Interviewer: The rest of the Democratic Union doesn’t agree with that position.

Morgan: That’s not true.

Interviewer: It is true, Senator—

Morgan: No, it’s not. Sure, there are countries within the D.U. that disagree, and we’ll negotiate with those countries—

Interviewer: You said “insist.”

Morgan: The United States has the most influence of any D.U. nation. If we take a moral stand, I have full confidence that the D.U. will follow our lead.

Interviewer: Even if that’s true, China will never agree to abandon—

Morgan: I don’t know about that.

Interviewer: They have openly stated their position that they will continue developing strong A.I., regardless of the D.U. position on the matter.

Morgan: As President, I will not let China threaten us—

Interviewer: They’ve issued no threat, Senator.

Morgan: Yes they have. If they develop strong A.I., not only will that threaten international security, but it will also threaten our species.

Interviewer: How have they threatened international security?

Morgan: A strong A.I. would quickly be able to find a way around our defenses. That’s why they want to develop it in the first place—to threaten us.

Interviewer: With all due respect, Senator, aren’t you the one who’s issuing threats?

Morgan: Absolutely not, Anderson. I’m simply doing what the American people expect me to do—defending humanity from an existential threat.

Interviewer: Isn’t this—

Morgan: I’m glad you find this amusing.

Interviewer: I’m sorry, but aren’t you being a little dramatic?

Morgan : I don’t find the security of the American people and the security of the people of the Democratic Union funny, Anderson. I take it very seriously. If your friend, the President, were to take it seriously, he’d back me up and insist on a comprehensive, strong A.I. ban.

Interviewer: Let’s talk about that proposed ban. The election is almost eight months away, Senator, and even if you win, you won’t take office until January of next year. Meanwhile, IBM already has a working simulation of the human brain. Some experts are saying now that this simulated brain might be able to pass the Turing test before the end of the next President’s first term. How do you intend to implement measures draconian enough to stop multinational companies from following through on the development of these technologies?

Morgan: By any means necessary.

Interviewer: Excuse me, Senator, but I am a bit taken aback. Isn’t that the kind of talk that has caused some people to label you as an extremist?

Morgan: Your network has labeled me as an extremist. The American people haven’t.

Interviewer: Senator, I resent that. We’ve always been fair—

Morgan: Fair? The man who owns your network has donated to the President’s campaign already, has he not?

Interviewer: He has. Full disclosure for our viewers. That’s true.

Morgan: He’s got his toes dipped in every major technology company there is.

Interviewer: That’s an unfair generalization—

Morgan: It’s worse than selling his soul. If he just sold his soul, so be it. He’d burn in Hell. Serves him right. But this is worse than that. He’s selling out his species. He’d end humanity. He’d see a world that is post-human , as long as he lived to see it inside a computer—

Interviewer: Senator Morgan—

Morgan: He’s not just a traitor to America—

Interviewer: This is really—

Morgan: He’s a traitor to the species—to his own species!

Interviewer: Senator Morgan? Please—okay. Senator Morgan has walked out on the interview. He’s certainly started the general election campaign with a bang, that’s for sure. We’ll see how voters respond. A fiery outburst of a self-proclaimed Purist, or the extremism of a fanatic? The American voters will decide in November.

WAKING UP for the first time from nano-infusion treatment was a disorienting and altogether unpleasant experience for Dr. Craig Emilson. The feeling of nausea was overwhelming.

“Don’t try to stand up,” said the young doctor as she lightly pressed her palm against Craig’s chest and kept his back against the small bed on which he lay. “We have to do a quick test first.”

“I’m fine, really,” Craig replied as he tried to get up once again.

Again, the young doctor kept him horizontal. “Dr. Emilson, try not to be such a stereotypically bad patient for the next minute and just let me help you.”

Craig smiled. “You can’t turn off being a doctor.”

“Pretend,” the young doctor replied. “I have to make sure the respirocytes are operating and, since this is your first nano-infusion, it’s important that I show you how they work.”

“I know how they work,” Craig replied. “My wife builds them.”

“She what?” asked the doctor, her routine suddenly interrupted by the interesting tidbit.

“My wife works with Professor Gibson. She makes respirocytes, so I already know all about them.”

“Hmm,” the doctor eventually responded after a barely perceptible moment of disappointment. “Then you know how important the Freitas test is?”

“Uh…”

The doctor smiled, flirtatiously. “Ha! So, you don’t know everything, Smarty Pants! We have to test the respirocytes and activate the pressure tanks to get the oxygen and carbon dioxide flowing, and there’s only one way to do that.”

“The Freitas test?”

“That’s right,” the doctor replied triumphantly. “And do you know how we administer the Freitas test?” She seemed to be beaming.

“No clue.”

“We get smarty pants like you to hold their breath.” The doctor’s teeth were nearly perfectly white and straight; her smile was gorgeous. “Ready?”

Craig grinned, acquiescing. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“All right,” she said as she held her small tricorder in front of Craig and watched the screen for information on the progress of the tiny, robotic red blood cells that were now flowing through his veins. “Hit it.”

Craig inhaled and then began holding his breath.

“You didn’t have to inhale,” the doctor observed.

Craig’s eyes darted to her questioningly.

“Just let it out nice and slow, but don’t inhale again when you’re finished.”

Against all of his instincts, Craig began to let out his breath nice and slowly, just as he had been instructed.

“You’re married, huh?” the doctor asked, apparently rhetorically. Craig nodded anyway. “That’s a shame. You’re way too handsome to be married. Handsome young doctors like you should be single. Then single doctors like me could marry you instead.”