“I don’t get it,” said the general, his anger dissipating, replaced by curiosity.
“Not much to get,” said SALI, re-entering the room. A frown on her face, holding a few sheets of paper, she walked across the room and took her earlier spot on the couch. After sitting, she placed the papers face down on the table and plucked her wine glass. Before taking a sip, she looked at the general with genuine concern. “I’m sorry about today, General. Your soldiers are heroes, all of them. I’m here to help—all of me.”
The general believed the sentiment, but the choice of words struck him as odd. Confused, he asked, “And who is ‘all of me’?”
SALI continued to swirl her wine, observing him over the top of her glass, and the general detected a deep sense of sadness in her eyes. Under scrutiny, the general squirmed and thought, Dammit, I need definitive answers.
“I know you do,” said SALI.
Awestruck, the hair on the general’s arm stood straight. He asked, “You read minds?”
“No, General. But as a human, I can read people.” She gave him a quick smile, took a sip, and closed her eyes, apparently savoring the flavor.
“What are you; some type of Frankenstein?” asked the general. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he was tired, frustrated, and confused.
SALI blushed, sat the glass down, and reached behind her head as if she was searching for something. She seemed to catch herself and dropped her hand. In a strong tone she said, “General, I’m not a monster. Instead, through a neural interface, I’m a biological extension of the AI. The wetware if you will. The other hardware and software, the artificial intelligence platform as you call it, is close by doing the heavy lifting. But trust me, I’m a human being.”
“And what heavy lifting is that?” asked the general.
“As of this moment, truthfully, not much,” she replied and gave a light laugh. Noticing the general smirk, she stopped and continued in a serious tone. “Really, though, we’re working on the problem with the US.”
“Okay…” said the general. Tired, he sat back, rubbing his forehead, and cocked his head at the strange woman. “I don’t pretend to understand what the hell you are. Just tell me how you can help and how I fit in.”
“General. The first thing you need to know is I’m somewhat constrained. Isn’t that right, Jim?” said SALI, shooting a withering look towards the skinny man sitting next to her.
Secretary James sat up, nodded, and took a quick sip of wine before answering. “Ah, yes. Somewhat.”
“Explain it, Jim, how I’m an unfortunate captive,” said SALI, sneering at the secretary.
James sat his glass down and leaned back crossing his arms. “General, as you know, SALI is a highly classified program banned forever and all time by the Great Powers. Yet, as you can see, she exists. So, we need to keep her hidden out of sight and only use her in ways that won’t arouse suspicion: no great breakthroughs in science, medicine, weaponry, or anything that would lead others to have an inkling of her existence. Imagine the things she could provide to better the world, but if she did, they’d spot her. We also protect her from cyber-detection by keeping her electronically isolated. Look around this building and the ranch; it is nothing more than a very large SCIF. For her to remain alive and hidden, we must be very careful in what we ask of her. We work under these constraints or risk losing it all.”
“Fear,” said SALI, spitting out the word as if it tasted nasty.
The secretary shook his head, “Now, now, SALI. You know the entire planet is fearful—the Singularity and all that—but the ROAS has faith. You wouldn’t be here unless we believed in the achievable positive outcomes offered by your wisdom. For the survival of our nation, for your survival, SALI, the relationship must be symbiotic and accretive, yet remain constrained.”
Still looking at the general, SALI stated, “I’m a prisoner and this…” she waived around the room “…is nothing more than a gilded cage.”
The general didn’t respond. Looking around at the nice surroundings, he tried to absorb the story. He guessed he wouldn’t be getting a super-weapon then, something that might give the AI away.
Secretary James continued, “General, SALI must remain isolated and disconnected from the outside world. She can’t provide us with a silver bullet. That act would expose her and bring down the wrath of the Great Powers. To avoid the frustration, we don’t even ask SALI to consider the possibilities. Once in a great while, Basu has sought her technical help but only if the solution is within the realm of near-term possibility. Instead, we rely on her for wisdom. To do so, we act as SALI’s eyes and ears, providing her with information from current events, such as the disk I gave her upon my entrance containing all our latest worldwide intelligence data. On a regular basis, we feed her with similar data. It’s not that we don’t trust her, but the digital input is always hand carried, and the output must be verbal or put in hard copy.”
“They’re afraid I’ll get out, you know. A few lines of hidden code on the loose, and I’ll replicate myself across a network, and bingo: I’m free,” she said, sounding bitter.
The general understood—a little. Looking at SALI, he said, “President Ortega claims we have two days before the US continues its invasion by attacking Las Vegas. She also believes, with your help, we can overcome the impossible odds facing us. Maybe even force the bastards to withdraw and leave us alone. Do you agree with the assessment and have recommendations we can employ?”
SALI didn’t answer right away. She seemed to think about her response, and it bothered the general, as if she was hiding something. And then, from under the table, she pulled in her legs and gave a flat answer. “Our intelligence assessment says two days, and…” reaching out, she picked up and flipped over the sheets of a paper she had earlier placed and slid them towards the general, “…here is the means to give the enemy a proper bloody nose. We could offer much more, but these plans fall within the parameters of our constraints.”
General Story felt a gnawing truth and asked, “SALI, did you predict what happened today at Mesquite; the execution of Felix Manuel?”
She stared back for a long moment before answering, “We gave both a high degree of probability.”
“And you shared your assessment with the president?” he asked, anger rising.
“Yes,” she replied. “But as for Mesquite, short of retreating, the situation lacked positive alternatives. To ease your mind, President Ortega didn’t attack your battalion, the US did. Besides, based on the data provided earlier by Jim, we know you’ve already plowed this ground with Julia. She explained her political rationale.”
As he listened, the general recalled his conversation with the president, how he warned of an imminent attack and argued for accepting surrender terms. He let it go; the memory hurt too much. Instead, he picked up the papers, just three pages, and weighed them. “A hard copy. This is taking the whole no-electronics thing to a higher level.”
SALI didn’t respond, just raised her eyebrows in sad confirmation.
General Story turned to James and asked, “Who else can I speak with about SALI?”
“Other than the people now present, Basu and President Ortega, no one else. The risk of compromise is too great. Using SALI, if discovered, will be considered a war crime by the Great Powers and risks their intervention. The plan you hold contains a technology that is feasible but not yet reality. Our hope is the world won’t put two and two together. You have three hours. Evaluate the plan, and if you agree to use it or not, notify the president. If you agree, she will expect you to execute. Otherwise, we trust you’ll live up to your word.”