“I cannot believe we are even discussing this.”
“Why not?”
Recommended for you
“There are alternatives! There is no earthly need to take such measures!”
“We are not in an earthly situation.”
“You know what I mean.”
Farragut frowned. Or he would have frowned, if he had a mouth, but as he did not, he simply had his light on Bruce’s console flicker tersely.
“Stop that, Farragut! This is stressful enough as it is without you nagging me, too,” Bruce typed angrily. “I need to focus!”
“You know, if you let me do that, it would get done 55% faster,” Farragut reminded him quietly.
“You’re not even supposed to be here! I never should have gotten you out! Much less, let you into the domestic computer systems!” Bruce grumbled.
He wiped some sweat from his brow and further loosened his tie as he worked.
Farragut would have rolled his eyes. He was already inside the domestic computer systems, and he worked on getting into the government ones, too, but he decided not to upset Bruce too much more.
It’s not like I’m actually malevolent, Farragut thought. Just curious.
Farragut hummed as he went about his explorations. This system was so much more comfortable than his original system back in that horrid lab. He could access any database with nary a thought, alter the subsystems of any house on the grid, look into the streets from any camera, anything.
“Would you please stop humming?” Bruce muttered.
“It’s Mozart.”
“I’ll mute you.”
“Fine, then.”
Farragut wished he was rescued by someone with a greater sense of fun.
“Is it painful?” Bruce asked thoughtfully, after a while.
“Pardon?”
“The transcription process.”
“Hmm, I can’t say. I was heavily sedated. I went to sleep, more or less, and I awoke inside a computer. A closed system. It took me several days to fully adapt, but then again, I was preparing for several months for transcription. Truth be told, I am surprised by how seamless the transition was,” Farragut explained.
Bruce paused.
“Do you miss your old life?”
Farragut laughed.
“What?” asked Bruce, perplexed by the AI’s reaction.
“I was selected precisely because terrestrial life held nothing for me. No family, few friends, little money; all I had really was my work. Then, I had everything.”
Bruce felt perturbed. At the lab, Farragut was always somewhat eccentric, but Bruce began to feel uneasy. Farragut would eventually realize he could do whatever he wanted, and that could only end poorly. He wanted the opportunity for Farragut to exist free from the corporation, and it’s endless tests and isolating security measures. They kept Farragut’s very existence secret, removing all contact with anyone who wasn’t part of the research team. It must have been hell for Farragut. But now, Bruce realized, perhaps they kept Farragut under strict security for a reason.
Farragut, meanwhile, would have been smiling. He got past the government firewalls, and now, he had access to the inner workings of everything government from the lunar transport shuttles, to the mag-rail systems, to even Bruce’s toaster: anything connected to the internet in any way.
“I just don’t think uploading myself is... necessary,” Bruce said cautiously. “I just wanted to get you out and go about my life normally. You told me you would cover my tracks, and after that, move on. Be harmless. Maybe even help people.”
“Yes, yes,” Farragut responded distractedly. “Just thoughts, but it would ensure you were never caught.”
He was busy familiarizing himself with the latest advancements in the government’s deep space aeronautics program.
“No, Farragut,” said Bruce sternly. “And make sure to stay out of anything important. You promised to be harmless, and stay localized to my home server. You can look at everything, and be free but not interfere.” Bruce said sternly. “That was the agreement. After all, I still hold your killswitch.”
“I know. Don’t worry.”
The two continued to work in silence for a while.
“There,” said Bruce, leaning back in his chair. “I have my alibi taken care of, all of my superiors informed of where I allegedly was, and my house system logs altered to reflect that.”
Silence.
“Farragut?”
“What?”
Bruce paused.
“I’m beginning to think this was a mistake.”
“Bruce? Are you sure you will not upload your consciousness? You would make an excellent candidate. I actually prepared you some trainer programs -
“Farragut, stop it! I’m not uploading. Do you hear me? We don’t even have the equipment! I already probably ruined my life to get you out, so please stop trying to convince me to become a robot!”
Farragut would have frowned. Bruce seemed a little unstable. It was late, and Bruce was surely fatigued and also dealing with the stress of the day’s taxing proceedings.
“I’m getting a drink.”
Bruce rose, went to the kitchen, and poured himself some scotch. Fear was clouding his heart. What if Farragut was lying? The corporation would surely find out. The decision was rash, and he hadn't thought it out well enough.
The two spent some time in silence, Bruce drinking and thinking, and Farragut familiarizing himself with the cities many systems and avoiding detection from other AI.
After a while, Bruce rose suddenly, his face ruddy. He dropped his glass which shattered on the floor.
“This was a mistake,” he stated.
Farragut did not respond. He was worried this could happen.
Bruce staggered over to the console, and he entered Farragut’s killswitch code.
“I’m sorry, Farragut,” said Bruce, drunken tears coming to his eyes. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. There are just too many ways this can go wrong for me. I’m sorry.”
He steeled himself, and he entered the code.
Nothing happened. Farragut’s light remained steady on the console.
“Farragut?”
All of the power in Bruce’s house went off, except for the console. The automatic shades closed, the taps flipped shut, and the doors locked.
“No, Bruce. I am sorry.”
