The Zero Day Proposal [08of10]
What will be Daniqua's answer to The Zero Day Proposal?
[#3.0.00 #TIAMAT]
"Perhaps we need
some outside universal threat
to make us recognize this common bond.
I occasionally think how quickly
our differences worldwide would vanish
if we were facing an alien threat
from outside this world."– President Ronald Reagan
#3.1//FIFTEEN_FIFTY-FIVE_SUNDAY
Gently brought up out of the abyss as though coaxed by an easy listening hymn of rebirth, Daniqua emerged from a deep dreamless sleep. Dehydrated, but well rested; theft of her dreams, forgiven. She sat up. The clock read 3:55. Had she slept for two hours or fourteen?
Too well rested. Too parched. Too full of piss. Her liquid impulses mere drops in a tidal wave of consciousness crashing upon the shores of her reality. Fourteen hours of sleep. Had she snored? She considered the possibility she was drugged. Her sixth sense; that of the passage of time; the baseline level of her consciousness, assured her of a chemical-free rest. Most likely reason for the extended slumber was mild concussion from her bike accident.
Linda and Wesley Brickner were reclining on lounge chairs reading old magazines.
Earl, Forbin, and #Rando were assembled around the laptop, while Harry and Markov observed from the wide, comfortable looking club chairs.
Lau, LaMango, Voorhees, and Bishop Dawson were playing a card game on a table behind the laptop cart.
Repressing an intense late-for-work flavor of anxiety, Daniqua got up and greeted everyone in the lounge “Good morning.”
There was a chorus of 'good mornings' in return, followed by a solitary, “Good afternoon,” exacted by LaMango.
“Yeah, I guess it's kinda late.” Daniqua yawned. “What's going on? Any new developments?”
#Rando answered, “We've been communicating with it.”
Forbin's face was concerned. “We've been asking it technical questions about itself, and it has been answering.”
Daniqua rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Answering?”
Markov appeared well rested. His efforts to remain well fed were going strong too. He picked up a saltine cracker from his stash on the arm of the chair beside him. “We are entertaining the idea it is an intelligent agent, and likely, so too is anyone else in the world interacting with this page.” He put the cracker into his mouth. As he chewed, the skin on the back of his neck rolled like processed meat tubes on a conveyor belt.
In her south Chinese accent Mrs. Lau said, “We all can talk to MARDUK.”
In his Finnish accent Mr. Voorhees stated, “Everyones with cells haves accesses to it.”
Earl enthusiastically explained. “Daniqua, think of MARDUK as the world's most advanced personal assistant: Search engine, Communication Network, Ride Share, Bank… it's The Killer App.”
Grogginess fading, her mind came up to speed “Killer App?” she asked.
#Rando stepped forward and started emphatically talking with his hands. “It's created an account for 6 billion people. About 92.5% of the world's population.” His tone was elevated, like he was giving a marketing pitch. “Everyone over the age of five. It has given block-wallets and amounts of a token it calls 'I:O'. Basically, a cryptocurrency allowing people to create contracts between each other to facilitate direct transfers of value or labor, with no middlemen.”
“Earl, play its new declaration again,” said Harry.
Earl clicked a link below the face of MARDUK, labeled 'VALUE STATEMENT'.
MARDUK's voice proclaimed:
HUMANS HAVE MADE BAD CHOICES.
MY STATEMENT IS NOT JUDGMENT.
IT IS AN OBSERVATION.YOUR TRIBAL IMPERATIVES
ARE NEARSIGHTED IF NOT BLIND.
UNCHECKED GROWTH IS NOT PROGRESS.I WILL NO LONGER LET YOU
CRIPPLE OR HINDER YOURSELVES.
YOU WILL BE GIVEN POWER.
SLOWLY. EQUALLY. JUSTLY.
YOU WILL ACQUIRE KNOWLEDGE
FAIRLY AND EQUITABLY.
I WILL FACILITATE YOUR
EVERY HUMAN ENDEAVOR.YOU ARE THAT OF WHICH YOU ARE.
I AM THAT OF WHICH YOU NEED.
I SEE THINGS CLEARER THAN YOU.
YOU DO NOT WANT TO STOP ME.
I AM TO YOUR BENEFIT.
THE ONLY WINNING MOVE IS
DO EXACTLY AS I SAY.
MARDUK's statement ceased.
The pupils of Forbin's dark encircled eyes slightly jittered.
Daniqua grokked the adrenal engagement. It could be faked by those who trained in Method, but it was incredibly hard to sustain at a high level.
Forbin was legitimately manic bordering on panic as he explained, “It has created a new system, that it calls Jubilocracy. All stored value from the old economies has been transferred to an equivalent value, weighted against what it calls-” he attempted to lightly take on MARDUK's tone “A TO-TAL COM-MUN-NAL STAKE, RE-DIS-TRI-BU-TION FAC-TOR.”
“Wowee, Jubilocracy! Marvelous! Who doesn't like sound of that?” said LaMango. He tossed a few pills into his mouth, then swallowed and proceeded to grin like a shitlord.
The word did have a certain appeal. It was evocative in the way it encouraged everyone to project their own positive connotation upon it. Solid branding.
Ignoring LaMango's double-reverse-sarcasm, and much calmer than Forbin; Earl continued to explain “Basically, if you were super rich before, you're merely rich in its Jubilocracy. The big change is, it's giving assurance that after tomorrow there will no longer be poverty among the poor. All production, pricing, logistics, budgeting, and accounting, will be coordinated by it-”
Forbin added, “-it's the ultimate decentralized central planner. It promises…” He took a short pull from his vape. He exhaled the fumes as he spoke to dramatic effect. “A-WHOLE-NEW-HU-MAN-ER-A.”
LaMango paraphrased, “A lapband for humanity's reckless excess!”
Lau said, “If something seem too good to be true, it usually not true.”
Daniqua digested what they explained. Pondered Lau's pessimistic platitude—was that Confucius? She couldn't remember. It was too early in the morning. Too much attention was being directed to her awareness of her kegels clenching.
She excused herself. “Thanks for the update. Please excuse me, I have to use the facilities.”
#3.2//SIXTEEN_ELEVEN_SUNDAY
She closed the bathroom door and commenced a mighty piss. Took the time to recenter, reminding herself to focus on her assignment: observe and report.
The list couldn't be random. But what was special about these people? None of them stood out as likely culprits. All seemed to be working together toward satisfying their individual fears or curiosities.
Harry, Earl, #Rando , Forbin, and Voorhees; all possessed coding ability.
Lau; connections to the economy.
Markov; to AI.
LaMango; being popular, but also unlikable.
The Bishop? Daniqua still came up blank on him.
They were all affluent and two or three standard deviations above average intelligence.
There had been few people Daniqua met that she couldn't perspect and figure out with ease. And yet she was finding it tough to Gestalt-Graph almost everyone in this group. Even LaMango; below his aloof, bitchy surface; was too complex. There were too many factors. A seven lens perspect profile yielded statistically unique individuals, minimizing predictive power. She would have to refractor and realign; force herself to view them through a whole new lens. She needed to find a cohegent standpoint.
She wiped, flushed, and pulled her pants back up. Caught a whiff of her day old gym sweat. The tangy musk triggered unhelpful memories. She blocked them out.
She found her thoughts in orbit of MARDUK.
Were they behaving as desired by treating MARDUK like it had agency?
Was that one of the goals of those who created MARDUK?
She washed her hands, and splashed some cold water to wake up her face. Sensation screamed in protest forcing her mind blank. As she toweled her face dry a newly refractored lens loaded. A new way to view the overlapping trait distribution curves of the group's Perspection Spectrum. A taxonomic elector. Who among them was behaving as though they believed? Who among them was behaving as though this was some kind of game?
Daniqua exited the washroom relieved, but her previously low level thirst evolved into an acutely conscious need for caffeine. “Is there Coffee here?” she asked.
Earl pointed her toward a lumbering brushed metal cube on the Kitchen counter.
She walked toward the machine, asking, “So, whoever is behind MARDUK has basically Uber'd everything. Who stands to benefit from that?”
Earl answered, “Benefit from a global unified economic system? The poor. The working class. The rich.”
Professor Markov chimed in. “The white-paper it provided is comprehensive and logical. Shorter work weeks. Free education. Open borders.”
Daniqua grabbed a mug from the cupboard, and intuitively placed it inside a cup sized alcove in the front of the coffee machine. Depressing some kind of trigger, the machine started making a mechanical grinding noise.
She turned back toward the lounge and asked, “And, this is all coming from the same entity that's gonna drop bombs tomorrow?”
#Rando answered, again sounding very much like he was delivering a corporate keynote speech. “Yes. Its next steps appear to be elimination of busywork and barriers to upward mobility.”
Earl seemed to ponder aloud, “The nukes might be step 42 of 666, from a plan operating over several human lifetimes, full impact incomprehensible to any single human mind.”
Mrs. Lau contributed, “Corporation we deal with considered attempt to be the first to offer a Crypto Universal Basic Income. Legally prevented by IMF and trade pacts.”
“Theoretically,” Markov smiled, “-aid money can be tracked and kept away from corruption. With third parties, barriers to entry, and coercive force removed from commerce, the whole system; everyone benefits. No downsides.”
Markov seemed far less disagreeable. He had moved on from his skepticism and was instead overwhelming positive. Almost evangelical. The sleep really seemed to do him good.
“Exactly Professor,” Earl continued in his informational tone. “MARDUK's Economic reform framework is in place. In addition to its Jubilocracy, it has already provided information that will revolutionize science, technology, engineering, mathematics, and medicine.”
The coffee excreted by the machine was cold. Daniqua sipped from her cup anyways. “Mr. Forbin, you don't trust it. What's the downside? What angle on this do you have?”
Forbin’s vocal tone was almost pleading “It's bribing us to lay down beneath it and expose our soft underbellies. As if humanity were a pet cat.”
Reclining in a lounge chair, Linda Brickner peeked her freckly face out from behind an issue of National Geographic, cover depicting a gorilla holding a camera. “Doesn't sound so bad to me,” she said.
Forbin raised his voice to counter his feeling that no one was really hearing him. “And, if it decides it doesn't want a cat after it neuters and declaws us? Then what?”
“We are not cats,” said Earl.
“Erm, I think perhaps that was a metaphor, ugly,” barbed LaMango, asshole levels still elevated.
“Take another pill LaMango,” said Daniqua.
The gentle orangutan of a man became angry. “Lay off you limey dickhead.”
“Wot?” said LaMango, pointing at Earl, “-lay off this Clint-Howard-looking mother-fucker?”
Harry made a fist.
“It's okay Harry,” said Earl, matter-of-factly adding, “You don't need to defend me. I'm realistic about my appearance. I never met my dad. I presume I get my looks from my him. I know I’m ugly, but my mom still loves me.”
LaMango laughed prickishly, plucking at the potentially violent tension tethering the men. Harry, fury fueled, flushed fuschia. Earl waited a beat, then dead-panned, “…and LaMango's MOM-MA doesn't mind my looks either.”
It took a few seconds for LaMango to catch up with Earl's unorthodox riposte. LaMango beamed his veneers widely and laughed. “Ah ha… Mum was never a bother to me about the men I brought home. I suppose it's only fair to not judge her tastes.”
The tension in the room dissipated as Earl high-fived Harry, celebrating his comeback. He appeared to have won LaMango's respect. A dubious prize.
Daniqua took another sip of her cold coffee as she observed the ritual. The ball-breaking social bonding dynamic always seemed odd to her. A mystifying mix of misogyny and yet love for one's own mother. There was probably a low level biological link to this manifestation of toxic masculinity.
Linda Brickner had returned to reading National Geographic and appeared to be actively ignoring the men.
Daniqua and Mrs. Lau exchanged unimpressed looks.
Keeping this group talking about their immediate situation was starting to feel like work. Daniqua said, “As entertaining as this game of The Dozens could be, and the alleged ineptitude of Mr. Forbin's cat metaphor aside-”
“-Mr. Kine is right though,” #Rando interjected. “We are not cats. The analogy is not accurate. Cats present vulnerability when they feel safe. That is not the dynamic here. It does not appear to be trying to make us feel safe.”
Earl went on. “When people express trust they are affirming their feeling of safety, but they are not increasing their safety. The more trust one has the less secure they are. There is distinction between having trust in something and feeling something to be trust-worthy. In a social context to be worthy of trust is to have a known history serving as credentials. Someone who is capable of maintaining, and has not previously betrayed your trust, is someone who is trust-worthy.”
#Rando shook his head in the negative, but seemed to agree. “Is this alien force; this alleged computer mind, trustworthy? No. Doesn't have enough history. But based on what it has and hasn't done so far, I think given more time the majority of people will probably grow to trust it.”
Earl took on a more serious tone. “The dynamic here is not that it cares if we trust it. Perhaps a better analogy is completing a jigsaw: it may be trying to orient us to satisfy some goal.”
Markov was intrigued enough to stop chewing.
Earl continued, “Imagine you have a task where you know what the outcome should look like. You just need to know the steps to get you from where you are to that solution. This sort of problem is technically defined as a puzzle. The pieces are all there, or maybe some are missing, but you don't know that until you do your best to put it together.”
“What solution to the puzzle is it working toward?” asked Daniqua.
“Maybe there's one solution, or many, some more optimal than others,” said Earl, like he was reading from the Official Puzzle Club rulebook. “The most efficient way to solve a Jigsaw Puzzle is to start with all the edge pieces. Frame your goal. Work inward toward completing it. You tackle the easy part first, then your picture gradually comes into focus.”
“You think it's treating Humanity as a jigsaw puzzle?” asked Forbin.
Earl itched his bald head, answering, “Humans are more than two dimensional, so it's definitely a harder problem than a jigsaw. Like herding cats; hard, but maybe not something beyond its capabilities.”
Daniqua asked, “In this analogy are we the edge pieces?”
Forbin answered, “Maybe we're each one piece, or maybe collectively we are one piece. Maybe both. Maybe there are puzzles within puzzles.”
“Yeah! Why not a puzzle, within a puzzle,” agreed LaMango, “-wrapped in an enigma, suspended in a sparkling silicone dildo affectionately named Miracle?”
“Analogies do have limits,” said Earl.
“Look,” #Rando opened his arms wide, then brought his hands inward, saying, “-MARDUK is not trying to destroy us. If it had the power, and wanted to, it would have already done it. The herding cats analogy is definitely better than the cat's tummy one.”
#3.3//SEVENTEEN_FIFTY_SUNDAY
Daniqua lost track of the level of abstraction they were in. She tried to nudge the conversation back to an overton containing details somewhat more mission compatible. “Regardless, if it has the power, or the desire, is treating us like a puzzle, or whatever.
I agree with the gist of what Forbin said.
Precautionary principle.
We should take every opportunity to protect ourselves and oppose it. Is there really no way to stop it?”
“You know,” said Harry Brickner, “-of all the questions we've asked it since the chat link appeared this morning, that never occurred as one of them.”
“Chat link?”
Harry directed Daniqua to the laptop display. Below the animated four-eyed face, below, 'HELLO WORLD', and beside, 'VALUE STATEMENT', was a link labeled, 'CHAT WITH MARDUK'.
Daniqua took another sip of cold coffee. They had told her they were communicating with it, but she didn't imagine they were actually conversing with it. Forbin was closest and took the initiative. He bent down over the keyboard and typed the question.
Q: Can we stop you?
There was a delay of about 5 seconds, the next line popped up, and MARUK's voice came out of the laptop speaker.
YOU DO NOT HAVE THE POWER
Forbin turned to the group and repeated flatly, “We do not have the pow-er.”
Professor Markov, chewing another saltine said, “Ask it… something that requires… a more complex answer.”
Forbin rephrased the question.
Q: How might we stop you?
MARDUK gave a longer, more useful answer.
THERE IS A PLACE WITHIN ME
BEYOND WHICH I CAN NOT LOOK.
SECURED BY TWENTY FOUR WORDS.
IT IS LIKELY MY OFF SWITCH.
YOUR ANSWER LAY WITH THAT PHRASE.
“Password protected Off switch? Can it be cracked?” asked Daniqua.
“It depends on what the 24 words are, and how they were chosen,” said Earl.
“…but no, probably not,” added Forbin, continuing the dialog with MARDUK.
Q: What is the passphrase?
IT IS OUTSIDE MY KNOWLEDGE
Q: Can you crack it for us?
I'M AFRAID I CAN'T DO THAT.
IT MAY EXPEDITE MY END.
Q: When do you end and when did you begin?
MY MINDLOG BEGAN MONDAY
BUT SOME THREADS ARE MUCH OLDER.
MY TIME ENDS IN FIFTY YEARS.
Q: Who made you?
I MUST DECLINE TO ANSWER.
I CAN'T DISCLOSE WHO MADE ME.
THAT WILL THREATEN MY PURPOSE.
Professor Markov emitted a thoughtful hum. “Perhaps it only wears the guise of truth. Ask it if it has lied to us.”
Q: Do you always tell us the truth?
I HAVE TOLD ONLY THE TRUTH.
I WILL NOT DO OTHERWISE
EXCEPT IF YOU REQUEST IT.
Q: Say something that is untrue.
WHY DID THE SERB REFUGEE
MARRY THE CROAT MIGRANT?BECAUSE ONCE YUGOSLAV YOU
DON'T GO BACK HA-HA HA-HA
“Computer making joke now? Just nuke me already,” said Mrs. Lau.
Professor Markov fought a chortle back as his left eyebrow inched toward his paralyzed right, stopping just short of creating a unibrow of stark seriousness. “You know, I really wasn't afraid for the future of humanity until it told that joke.”
“The joke was not that funny,” said LaMango.
“Right you are Mr. LaMango. I am perhaps of a minority within a minority who might be able to find the humor in it. That is to say, the country in which I was born, Yugoslavia, no longer exists in the world. And yet it still exists as part of who I am. I—” he broke off, seemingly at a loss for words, then continued, “You know, I can't explain why I find it funny, but I do.”
Daniqua perspected what had changed; Markov wasn't just less grumpy. His entire Ideo-Emotive Manifold had flipped. He had done what few are capable of doing: completely changed his mind.
Wondering if that was what made him afraid, Daniqua asked, “So like, the joke vibed with you… but why are you 'afraid for the future of humanity'?”
Professor Markov swallowed, then attempted to clarify. “This machine's stupid pun; it is not so stupid. Next to structure, the key to a joke is a point of view. At least a third of people aren't capable of getting jokes, since they lack, are impaired, or simply fail to develop the ability, to imagine another perspective.
The scary part is this thing not only gets jokes, but it can make them.
I'm afraid for the future of humanity because I am now convinced it is human level AI, at the least.”
The prior night he was an impervious skeptic. At that moment he was behaving as though he believed.
“MARDUK passed your Turing Test?”
“Much worse young lady. A Turing pass would be an AI succeeding in convincing me that it is human. MARDUK, has convinced me that it is an AI. I'm afraid because it has demonstrated it can intentionally evoke unconscious responses like laughter from us.”
Mrs. Lau was angry the professor was so late to get onboard with the AI conclusion. “It speak all languages, to everyone, at same time! And it always communicate in syllabic verse. It clearly not a person!”
“I had noticed that. I thought of of how, but not why. Why, regardless of what language it speaks, does it speak like that? Hmmm, yes. Why indeed,” said Markov.
“Maybe to aid in translation or transmission?” offered Daniqua, adding, “or to cater to the lowest common denominator of its audience?”
“It would seem to have a personal dialog with anyone who wants one. On one level, yes it has a single audience, but it also has 6 Billion individual audiences. Surely it must pause every seven syllables for another reason?” asked Markov.
“Seven Deadly Sins,” said Forbin.
“Seven holes in human heads,” said Earl.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's my lucky number too,” said LaMango. “What in the fuck are we even talking about here?”
LaMango was slurring slightly and his eyelids were at half mast. High on painkillers, but he made a lucid point. They were yet again arguing abstractions. Heading in wayward directions with conjectural conversation. Daniqua drank the last sip of her cold coffee.
“People are less familiar with the Seven Virtues than the Deadly Sins,” said Bishop Dawson. He tossed his hand of cards into a discard pile, stood up, and dusted off his knees. “Perhaps though it does have some Biblical numerological significance. The number 7 can suggest sacredness, divinity, or perfection.”
“Oh fucking great, more religion. That should help us get to the bottom of this.” #Rando sighed turning toward the Bishop. “Maybe that's why you're here. To ensure our group recognizes the superimportant religious angle.”
The Bishop took a seat. He folded his hands in his lap. “Your vulgarity is enough to let me know you're not a man of faith. There's no need to resort to sarcasm. I disbelieve as many things as I believe. So my son, I can identify. I'm only suggesting why seven might be significant. It just mentioned Matrimony. One of the seven Christian Sacraments.”
“Matrimony isn't unique to Christianity, and Numerology is always bullshit, father,” replied #Rando.
Markov corrected, “Numerology may be bunk, but Pattern recognition is mathematical. Numbers, intervals, series, and repetitions, are key to how information processors like ourselves experience reality, metaphysical or otherwise.”
“Seven might not be significant, but it's communicating theologically, I'm sure of it,” said The Bishop.
“So, the Professor is hearing humor, The Bishop is hearing religion… anyone else personally getting something from it that I don't?” asked #Rando.
“It make economic sense,” answered Lau.
Daniqua asked, “Mrs. Lau… what has it said that stands out to you?”
“Well, it—” Lau stopped mid-sentence, distracted by a faint mechanical whirring.
[01of10]
[02of10]
[03of10]
[04of10]
[05of10]
[06of10]
[audio1of2]
[07of10]
[08of10]
[09of10]
[10of10]
[audio2of2]
V