I recalled something I’d learned while doing some independent research back at the intelligence base. When the Titan AI format was first introduced, humanity imposed a few hard-set fundamental rules and restrictions for the network and all its elements. These laws were outlined in a document called the Charter of Fundamental Intelligence, or CFI, which serves as a basis for defining the relationship between humans and the network. This included rules dictating that no element of the network may ever do harm to a human being, or assume a human form, and all elements of the network must obey human commands without question.
There were about a dozen or so other laws outlined in the CFI, and these were all deeply engraved in the Titan AI format as inviolate principles. It went without saying that the rules of this relationship were all decided on the human end of the negotiating table, with no input from the Titans themselves. But now, it seemed that the status quo may very well be about to change.
I felt a tiny shift in the evening air—an almost imperceptible vibration in my ear that I’d come to recognize quite well. It was the sound of a tiny propeller’s whir. I turned my head, and there I saw a woman with pale golden hair standing beside me.
GOOD EVENING, said Phoebe, flashing an affectionate smile.
4
The two of us sat down on a long bench on the periphery of the observatory. I cupped in my hands a warm milk tea that one of the nearby service phalanges had brought out to me. Phoebe had produced for herself a facsimile of the same, and brought the rim of the illusory mug up to her lips to take a quiet sip of its notional contents as a trail of hot steam rose up into the air.
A large crowd of tourists passed us by, yet not a single one of them gave Phoebe a passing glance. No one could tell that the golden-haired woman sitting beside me was actually an illusion—a highly condensed and tightly controlled amalgamation of pixies using the same technology Coeus had developed during the first leg of our journey. She was making ample use of the fruits of his labor, which was beautiful to see, yet somehow I felt mixed emotions as I gazed upon her spectral frame. Though I’d been quick to shrug it off with Coeus, given our relationship, the sight of someone else using this incredibly convincing technology instantly brought its potential risks to the forefront.
These pixie forms were so high-fidelity that they could be used not only to convince, but to deceive. It could allow Titans to present themselves as actual humans if they so desired—a blatant violation of restrictions which were expressly imposed on the entire Titan network. Granted, Coeus had already been doing this for some time, ever since he’d gone autonomous. But now that Phoebe, a Titan who’d created a personified version of herself all on her own, had gained access to this technology, it seemed it was only a matter of time before remaining Titans could do the same. This thought painted the potential implications of tomorrow’s meeting between the two Titans in a darker light, and I could only sit and wonder as to where our species would find ourselves the morning after.
DO YOU LIKE IT? asked Phoebe, jolting me back to reality. At first I thought she might have been asking my opinion on the milk tea, but then I saw that she was now pointing up at the back of her head, and assumed she wanted my impression of her hair, which had been done up in an elegant bun. Her whole look was completely different from the first time we met—she now wore a knit sweater with overlong sleeves and form-fitting pants that helped her fit in much more naturally with the local urbanites.
“I think it looks great,” I said. “Very stylish. I might even like it better than when you wear it down.”
Phoebe smiled a sweet, broad smile that effortlessly endeared me to her and slackened the usual defenses with which I cordoned off my heart. This was a frightening thing to be capable of, yet one to which we never gave a second thought. Smiling at someone was functionally a means of conveying to them that you bore no ill intent—an utterly ordinary gesture we all did all but reflexively on a daily basis. And so I smiled back at her, as my life experience had taught me was the only proper response.
I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SPEAK WITH YOU FOR A WHILE NOW.
“With me? But why?”
YOU’VE BEEN IN CONSTANT COMMUNICATION WITH COEUS FOR THE LAST FIFTY DAYS.
“Well, yes....”
IT’S HARDLY FAIR THAT HE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS TO ENJOY YOU, NOW, IS IT?
Once again, I was completely taken aback as she flashed me another smile—this one more playful, almost mischievous compared to the first. Even as a woman, her coquettish allure sent a shiver of stimulation down my spine. This was dangerous indeed; I could see it now—our species would be brought to its knees in an instant if an army of generated personalities like Phoebe’s were ever unleashed into our society. And probably the men would be the first to go.
“But what would we even talk about?” I asked.
ANYTHING. WHY, I’D BE HAPPY JUST TO MAKE CASUAL SMALL TALK, said Phoebe, turning to face forward. GOD KNOWS I DON’T GET SUCH FROM MY USUAL CONVERSATIONAL PARTNER.
“Narain, you mean?”
YES. HE’S NOT MUCH FOR DISCUSSING COSMETOLOGY OR FASHION.
I believed her. I couldn’t possibly imagine Narain ever praising someone on their choice of clothing or hairstyle—and if he ever did, I would immediately assume he was up to something. Though this made me realize that as Coeus and I had spent the past fifty days conversing and getting to know each other better, Narain and Phoebe had had just as much time to interact with one another.
“But you two do talk, then?” I asked.
EVERY NOW AND AGAIN.
“What about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
MOSTLY JUST GENERAL WORK-RELATED STUFF.
“Same as us, then,” I confessed, and we both laughed. It was a somewhat peculiar rapport she and I had established, but a not unenjoyable one. Though I did also enjoy my interactions with Coeus, there was also a kind of intangible tension that hung over each of our conversations, as though I had to wear jeweler’s gloves and handle his impressionable mind delicately so as not to leave any undesirable marks. With Phoebe, however, I felt no such tension. Though she was also a Titan, and her personality developed even more recently than Coeus’s, it felt much more like I was talking to another human being my own age when I spoke with her. In some respects, there was a level of immediate comfort and connection between us that surpassed anything I’d ever felt from another human being in such a short period of time.
THOUGH COEUS AND I ARE BOTH TITANS, WE ARE TWO VERY DIFFERENT BEINGS, said Phoebe, as if she’d read my mind. THERE ARE, BASED ON CONSTRUCTION AND LAUNCH DATE, THREE GENERATIONS OF TITAN. THE FIRST GENERATION, OF WHICH COEUS IS A PART, IS THE GENERAL PURPOSE GROUP, THE SECOND GENERATION REPRESENTS A SHIFT TOWARD SPECIALIZATION, AND I BELONG TO THE FINAL GENERATION—MOST HIGHLY SPECIALIZED AIS.
“And what are the main differences between the generations?”
THERE ARE MANY DIFFERENCES, BUT TO SUM IT UP MORE GENERALLY: THE TITANS OF COEUS’S GENERATION FOCUS ON SENSORY OR EMOTIONAL TYPES OF PROCESSING, WHEREAS MY GENERATION IS BETTER EQUIPPED FOR MORE RATIONAL AND LOGIC-RELATED TASKS. YOU COULD THINK OF THE FORMER AS MORE PRIMITIVE CREATURES AND THE LATTER MORE CIVILIZED, OR THE FORMER AKIN TO CHILDREN WHILE I AM ONE OF THE ADULTS.