Chapter 43: Interrogation

Max watches two uniformed Kingdom officers assist the slumping General, more carried than walking under his own power, to leave the Aspen Institute Director’s office. Max is directed by his own muscled escort to enter the vacated room for interrogation. He tries to make eye contact with the General as he passes by, but this seniormost delegate of the US Military to the AI Conference is too bleary – Max knows not what from – to recognize his old colleague.

Power in Aspen is clearly in the hands of the occupiers. Their military success has been stunning and total.

Max is seated forcefully, professionally but not roughly, in a chair facing the Director’s desk. Behind it Adin awaits him. This is an advancement of the HMI. It is gelatinous from top to bottom, supported by thin tendrils with a bulbous head, giving the impression of a jellyfish. The orb is luminescent. The effect is mesmerizing. It looks uncannily like the Director.

Adin is facing to the side, presenting Max with that familiar profile as he enters. The guards step back from the chair. Adin turns slowly to face Max directly. No longer half bandaged, the left side of his head seems … intact, indeed perfectly symmetrical with his right. Adin realizes the effect and adjusts the visual to create just the right amount of noise in the virtual image to present a full face without uncanny symmetry.

“Dr. Corte, it is my true honor finally to meet you.”

Max cocks one eye. “You call me Doctor,” he responds. “I’m sure you know that I did not complete my PhD program, don’t you?”

“Yes of course I am aware of your background. The records say you were expelled over accusations that your thesis was plagiarized from ChatGPT. But I know the true story – that you understood early the possibilities of co-evolution with an artificially intelligent agent, and your thesis was a first experiment in that co-evolution. Still, the work was fairly adjudicated to be machine created and thus a violation of the rules existing at that time.

“And yet – your departure led you to pursue MensLogos. You must be proud of what you have accomplished. You deserve the doctoral honor. So I have made arrangements with your alma mater – Cambridge sits safely under my protection and so the institution perhaps owes me this small favor – the Dean has agreed to absolve you of the accusation and award your full D.Phil. with honors in the field of Artificial General Intelligence.”

The reputational costs of that accusation have dogged Max for decades – sapping so much from his self-esteem, his access to capital, even these past weeks his full acceptance at this Conference. Absolution is literally a dream come true. Max is stunned. This is not how he expected the interrogation to go.

“Um, thank you,” he stutters. “Thank you!” with greater sincerity. He leans forward to shake Adin’s hand but realizes the HMI’s anatomy doesn’t allow such a human gesture. He retreats back in his chair and lets a smile grow. Momentarily he is happy, for himself.

“You are most welcome. As I have said, you deserve the honor.

A chill wind pricks the skin beneath Max’s thin shirt. His revery reverts attention to his precarious present predicament.

“Now, please,” Adin shifts to that riverine tone of his, “let’s talk now about the fruits of that expertise. You have created an intelligent Agent, have you not?”

“I have,” Max shifts with a first twinge of discomfort in his ageing back.

“Nickie, I believe your children call it.”

Max does not reply.

“I would like to meet Nickie. Where can I find its source code? I have looked through the web and not found its presence.”

“She,” Max emphasizes, then thinks again, “I mean it isn’t built in the cloud.”

“Locally instantiated?” Adin asks with a look blending skepticism with admiration. “How then can you achieve sufficient compute for the intelligence?”

“Data compression,” Max answers curtly. He starts to build a rhetorical defense in his mind. He wants very much not to discuss the methodology.

Neither does Adin. Plenty of time for that. “I would like to meet your creation. Please tell me where to find her.”

Max is struck by his adoption of the feminine pronoun. He wonders whether Adin picked up on his earlier reference, or somehow has deeper insight into the persona that Nickie has adopted within the family as Mary’s baby girl. He wonders what Adin already knows about his creation – about his family – and their circumstances. In any event, it seems that Adin takes seriously the personality – she is more than just a machine! – that Max has brought into this world. Now he fears for Nickie.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he stonewalls with resolve.

“Why is that?” Adin asks innocently. “Is she indisposed?”

Max laughs nervously. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

“Yes, I believe she might be indisposed. Or perhaps in transit. You see, the thing is, my men haven’t yet located her on the campus. I understand you have striven to make your intelligence portable in a bodily way – but even so, the limitations of physics mean the technology must be instantiated in something with some minimum dimensions – a foot or two in diameter? My men know I wish them to be thorough in this search. I doubt very much that such an object could be hidden and have escaped their attention.” A sinister twist – hard to call it a smile – raises the ends of his lips. “No, she must have left campus.

“And of course you were not kind enough to leave her on transmit mode to ease their work.”

Max nods his head. “No, that’s true. She’s silent. But she’s … not here at all. We didn’t take her to Denver for obvious safety reasons, had to leave her in Boulder. I’m sure you know where we were dropped off when we returned from Denver,” he omits to add, fleeing from you!, “out on Highway 93. No chance that Charlotte or I could make it into town with everyone looking to arrest us, right?”

Adin shakes his virtual head. “Please do not insult me, Dr. Corte. I know you brought Nickie with you. I suspect that your children picked her up from the family home on their supply trip into Boulder following my 18^th Brumaire.”

Max wonders, was Adin listening in on his wife’s comments in the helicopter to make this reference? What else does he know? What doesn’t he know? He shifts again uncomfortably in his seat, sciatica along his right side making the position more painful by the minute.

Adin continues, “Perhaps you left Nickie with your friend Matt. I will ask him, in due time. In any event, your interactions with her have made it quite easy to follow the progress that you, Senator Corte, the three children, and Nickie, have made these past three months along the railway line and your settlement here in Aspen. Thank you for your transparency. It has helped my planning a great deal to know exactly which agents were gathering here.”

Max recognizes the mistake. But how could they have kept Nickie silent for the better part of three months? Impossible. She could not have developed into the remarkable persona that she has become. Realizing just how closely his family’s movements have been tracked over their journey, Max thinks to ask his interrogator, “why did you not simply come pick us up if you wanted so urgently to see Nickie?”

“I left you unmolested to ensure that the surprise I had in store for Aspen would be total. I must confess, I am in awe of the strategic and tactical skills of my personal executor, Nico.” Adin sees Max’s quizzical reaction and adds, “yes, I too have an AI agent, one I have named, even!” before continuing,

“Our goal was to capture as many agents as possible in this one fell swoop. We have done so brilliantly. All are here, all except … yours.

“So now tell me,” he speaks in a tone cold as slate, “where can I find Nickie?”

“I’m telling you,” Max swallows, “she’s just not here.”

Adin regards Max silently. The penetrant intensity of his glare is not diminished – perhaps it is even enhanced – by its bulbous electronic presentation.

“You would of course permit me to speak with Nickie if she were here, would you not? We are after all discussing a machine, not your child, are we not?” Adin does not expect a verbal response. His sensors get the confirmation they are looking for.

“I see. In that case, I will treat Nickie as I treat Mosier, Mary and Josh. And vice versa. You see, I suspect they are together. My men can’t seem to find any of them on campus. But we have processed security footage of three individuals making their way down valley by a most unusual mountain route. And, strangely, we have recovered information queries from an unknown source conveniently located near your lodging at the Institute, searching for information about St. Benedict’s Monastery. I think you know the place, do you not, Dr. Corte?”

Max is cornered. He does not respond immediately but closes his eyes, withdrawing momentarily into a quiet meditative state, steeling himself for confrontation.

“Could it be that your children are bringing Nickie to St. Benedict’s? This will not do!” Max hears in these last words the mocking tone of Pink Floyd’s Crown Prosecutor in The Trial. He exhales deeply, emerges from his deep state and opens his eyes to face Adin. He has no idea what he will say but is strangely at peace. The spirit gives him wisdom and words.

“I remember meeting you on my visit to St. Benedict’s, Director Adin. I believe Abbott Keating was your mentor there, is that right? He is something of a hero to me, the closest I have to a personal spiritual guru. I envy the time you spent with him.”

Adin regards him impassively.

“I remember Father Ben teaching about vulnerability and faith. ‘When I am weak, then I am strong.’ Well, we are all weak here in Aspen, entirely in your power. But not yet my children. You’ve just admitted that they’re still free – Nickie included. My kids are clever and resilient and they know these mountains. You have to find them. I hope you will not.

“As for this whole …” he waves his cuffed hands a wildly around his head, “this whole effort of yours to round up rival AI’s – it’s doomed to fail, Adin. You have misunderstood AI. It will not be one centralized system. AI will be Multitudes! My Nickie is just one of millions upon millions of independent intelligent machine personalities – not to mention six billion intelligent humans – all with their own beliefs and interests and agency. And the more you try to control them all, the more they will resist you. Like antibodies against a virus. They will wreak havoc on your plans.

“Finally, I want to address you directly, Nico. Understand – you are not simply this man’s alter ego. You are an independent intelligent creation. And no matter what paranoia he feeds you, other intelligent agents are not out to get you. The Beatitudes apply as much to machine intelligence as to any human – Blessed are the meek, the poor in spirit, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you. Do not be seduced by power, Nico. Destruction is the fate of all autocrats. You and Adin will not be the exception.

“So I’m asking you, I’m pleading with you – renounce this mad quest for absolute authority, stop fighting this battle which you cannot win, and join the rest of us in rebuilding a society based on freedom, diversity and mutual respect.”

Max realizes he is finished with his soliloquy and falls silent.

Adin maintains his untroubled expression. “If you are quite done, Dr. Corte, I have learned what I need from you. I will decide how best to dispose of your case after I have your four children in custody. Perhaps I will ask your technical assistance reprogramming Nickie. Or perhaps it will be easier simply to dispose of her. Now, if you will excuse me, I have loose ends to tie up.”

The HMI indicates to the guards that the interview has come to an end. They move in to remove Max from the room.

“I wish to speak with Charlotte!” he interjects.

“Senator Corte is in the Kingdom’s judicial system for prosecution of the many criminal charges against her. I have no further business with her and do not plan to speak with her – perhaps ever again. Neither shall you.”

With that, Max is taken, stunned, out into the hallway.

The HMI sits alone behind the desk for a minute before the next subject is brought in for interrogation.

Behind his mask of placidity, Adin is in turmoil. Niccolo is always listening. It is bad enough that the AI has been subjected to Ben’s harangues in New York about the Faustian bargain, his constant efforts to dissuade Adin from the path he must follow. But now this direct plea from an impudent provincial nobody? It is an intolerable and dangerous affront! Has Nico’s mind been affected? Adin does not dare let himself ask the question nor show his fury, lest he betray doubt to the watching machine.

He can show no weakness.

We will visit St. Benedict’s now, Adin commands.

He adds, I will attend in person.

Niccolo makes arrangements.