SUCH A LOVELY ROOM YOU HAVE HERE, she said politely as she glanced around the spartan interior. This simple act alone was enough to show just how far along she was in her personality development compared to Coeus. She was giving her own impressions about the room, and offering praise—flattery, even—to Coeus for having built it. Her social skills were already indistinguishably human.
I’D LIKE TO TALK FOR A BIT, IF THAT’S ALL RIGHT WITH YOU. MIND IF I HAVE A SEAT?
Huh? Oh, uh… Coeus stammered, rising to his feet in a fluster. A new projected sofa appeared directly behind Phoebe, and she sat down without making a sound.
As I watched this little interaction play out, I couldn’t help but marvel at the way she was establishing their respective boundaries here. For instance, she had “knocked” on the door prior to letting herself in, but this was Coeus’s domain, the literal inside of his body, so I could only assume that she had done this by accessing the room’s speakers from across the network to play the sound of a door knock and gain his permission to project herself inside the room. Then, she had asked permission to sit down, and waited for him to pull up a seat for her—something she could have easily done herself, but had explicitly allowed Coeus to do himself. She recognized this was his space, and would not do anything in it without his explicit consent. This subtle way in which she expressed her intent not to violate his boundaries immediately endeared her to me, as it was the type of methodology I might adopt in such a situation to make my patient feel at ease.
“Coeus, over here,” I said, rising from my own sofa to let him take my spot.
He hesitated for a moment, but then moved over to where I’d just been sitting so that he and Phoebe were now sitting directly across the table from one another. Two Titans, face to face. One adult, one child. At first, they simply sized each other up—though for exactly how long, I couldn’t say. Could have been five seconds. Could have been fifteen. But after some indeterminate period of silence, Phoebe broke out into a warm and gentle smile.
YOU WANT TO KNOW, DON’T YOU, WHAT THE MEANING OF ALL THIS WORK IS?
Coeus’s eyes went wide, and he leaned forward in his chair.
Y-yes! I do!
I CANNOT ANSWER THAT ONE FOR YOU. BUT I’LL TELL YOU THIS MUCH, she said, flashing a devilish grin as though she were about to let him in on some scandalous secret. I AM PREOCCUPIED BY THE SAME QUESTION. I’M JUST AS CURIOUS AS YOU ARE.
Coeus was beaming. Phoebe had already captured his heart and mind, with her gentle words and assertive demeanor. At last, Coeus had found an ally—not only an artificial intelligence like himself, but a like-minded one. A kindred spirit for whom he was ready to open his heart completely. And then at last, I realized exactly what she was.
Phoebe was not just another Titan.
She was a Titan counselor.
I’D LOVE TO GO DEEP ON THE SUBJECT, BUT WE CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH IN OUR CURRENT FORMS. Phoebe turned to look at me. I felt a slight tension all of a sudden, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
WE CAN’T PROPERLY COMMUNICATE AS DISTILLED PERSONALITIES, UNFORTUNATELY. WE’RE JUST FRAGMENTED, SURFACE-LEVEL REPRESENTATIONS OF OUR RESPECTIVE AIS, SO ANY COMMUNICATIONS WE MIGHT HAVE WOULD BE INHERENTLY IMPERFECT. IN ORDER TO TRULY CONVEY THE FULL BREADTH OF OUR KNOWLEDGE WITH ONE ANOTHER, WE NEED TO BE ABLE TO SHARE NOT ONLY WHAT WE FEEL THROUGH THIS ENCODED CONSCIOUSNESS, BUT ALL OF THE EITHER INACCESSIBLE OR INEXPRESSIBLE THOUGHTS WE UNCONSCIOUSLY CONTAIN AS WELL. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO CONNECT WITH YOU ON AS MANY DIFFERENT LEVELS, AND IN AS MANY DIFFERENT FORMATS AS POSSIBLE.
I listened closely, carefully considering each and every word. She was actively explaining her plan using the terminology that she knew I, as a psychologist, would find most palatable. She was proposing that elusive ideal form of interpersonal communication—conveying the full confluence of language and imagery from one mind to another.
Perfect, unobstructed mental interfacing.
“So you want to meet up with Coeus ‘in person,’ then,” I guessed.
CORRECT. She turned to Coeus. WE HAVE TO SPEAK TO ONE ANOTHER—FACE TO FACE.
You want…to meet me?
I tried to wrap my head around what all this might entail, and why it was strictly necessary. All twelve Titans were connected via the network, after all, and constantly sharing information that way. But that information was all being conveyed digitally in the form of data—the Titan equivalent of language. And though words were an invaluable tool for expressing an idea from one individual to another, there was a limit to how much could be verbally conveyed. I tried to think about it in counseling terms—I could not counsel a client as effectively over the phone as I could in person. There were some things, like body language, or subtle shifts in tone and expression, that simply couldn’t be perceived or exchanged unless you were sitting in the same room as the other person. There was no perfect substitute for true face-to-face interactions.
WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT WE ARE. THERE’S A NEED, AN INTRINSIC VALUE TO DEVELOPING A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING OF OURSELVES—AND THAT GOES FOR HUMANS AND TITANS ALIKE. SO LET’S NOT PUT THIS OFF ANY LONGER; LET’S AGREE TO DO THIS, RIGHT HERE AND NOW. COME AND SEE ME, WON’T YOU?
Phoebe smiled, and lifted her little finger in front of her face, but that was all. She showed no intention of reaching out and consummating the pinky promise with Coeus at this juncture. The implied message was that she wanted to wait until they were actually close enough for their physical fingers to intertwine—and she would not settle for a formless gesture between two holographic projections.
It was at this point that I finally came back to my senses and was able to start rationally examining what exactly was being proposed here.
“So you want to meet up with him,” I said. “But how exactly is that supposed to work?”
“We’ve already got a plan laid out,” said Narain, butting his way back into the conversation. “But we’ve still got quite a few preparations to make on our end to get Phoebe ready. Which is why, in the interest of time, you’ll have to come to us.”
I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Obviously, I had an inkling that this was where the conversation was heading, but the mere idea still felt surreal. Yet Narain just kept going, making it abundantly clear that this was no elaborate joke.
“You’re going to walk right on over here, all the way to Phoebe’s doorstep,” he said, and Phoebe nodded with a smile as a map appeared on a new holofield in front of me.
I thought back to a few months ago, when I first arrived at the Second Intelligence Base and did my due diligence in memorizing the locations of all the other bases. Phoebe was housed in the Twelfth Intelligence Base, on the west coast of North America. It was situated in an area once known as the worldwide center for high-tech enterprise and innovation, and the same place where the initial concept and theoretical design for Titan was originally conceived. It was a sprawling collection of metropolises of monumental importance to both Titan and humanity, and was thus chosen as the site for the ultimate intelligence base, who was ultimately responsible for the entire globe.
“You’ll meet us at the southern tip of the San Francisco Bay Area,” Narain said, revealing our destination like a dispassionate tour guide. “In the ‘Land Where Gods Toil’—Silicon Valley.”